Utterly Mad

The Survivors
It's been twelve hours since the enormous fireball crashed down on the planet. The rescue team has just arrived, and the survivors are going about their business figuring out just what the hell happened.

Holland Sheldrake and Rex
You two are chilling out in the apartment building lobby while on floor guard duty. The apartment's lobby used to have two large windows instead of walls, but they've been replaced with wooden barricades. Holland's old mining hammer rests on the counter of the reception desk. Its head and shaft is filled with a number of reaction wheels designed to accelerate the hammer mid swing, increasing its impact velocity to the point that it can smash through most anything. Quite useful. Rex is nosing around a one of Holland's hand grenades near the door. The other two are attached to Holland's belt, alongside a heavy duty mining charge and a molotov.

Waylon Ashford
You're chilling in the third floor apartment where you live with the other survivors. The furniture is pretty run down after a couple years of wear and disrepair, and the bullet holes perforating the couch doesn't make it any more comfortable. Regardless, you're up there, and your Moscow Assault Solutions rifle, an old AK variant, is resting nearby the window. Its scope and your proficiency with it has netted you a lot of sniper duty, but today is your day off.

Aaron Vance
You're standing on top of your group's building, looking out at the nearby coast for any kind of movement. You were the first to see the fireball land, somewhere in the northern sea. Right now, there's just waves and a few seagulls flying around the sand bank. Wait... You think you can see something wash up on the beach! Better gear up and investigate. You think you left your folding sword in the apartment, with your two Glocks.

The Rescue Team
Your ship's intercom bings as you exit warp space. "Destination reached: Livma-6. Operation Quarantine Break initiated. Prepare for landing." says the ship's AI. It's got some long, professional designation, but the company just calls it Hal. Somebody up there has a morbid sense of humor.

Marcus Sands
Your seat rattles and shakes, and you know you're entering the atmosphere. You can see your three other teammates in the ship's passenger bay. You're sitting next to Perigrinium and across from Audrey. Your gun, a TSS Longshot Revolving Rifle, rattles in response from its rack above your head. Your trusty 50 cal Anti-Personnel Revolver stays silent as ever in your hand.

Mike Kilgore
In the darkness, you grip your Zion-7 Sonic Shotgun. It's blue charge meter illuminates your face in an unnatural glow. It's full, at least. In the otherwise rather dark ship, you see Audrey next to you and Perigrinium across. On your hip, your laser machete jingles and jangles.

Audrey Dean
You're sitting next to Mike and across from Marcus. Your Matterhorn 782k-P Rifle jumps around a bit in its rack above your head. It casts a green glow on the wall. On your hip, in its holster, sits a small Zion-7 Hand Cannon. It whirs quietly.

Agent Perigrinium
You're sitting next to Marcus and across from Mike. Your Durant "Eagle Eye" Laser Sniper Rifle sits comfortably in your lap. It gives off no glow, and is covered in urban camouflage paint. On your hip, a TSS Tri-Shot Plasma Pistol rattles and jiggles a bit in its holster.

With one giant bump, the ship touches down on the ground, and the back wall opens outward to form a ramp onto a ruined city street. "Welcome to Ward City. Population: Unavailable. You are currently on the eastern edge of the megacity. Last contact was made with the passenger ship Orion twelve hours ago on the northern coast. Good luck." beeps Hal, over both the ship's intercom, and over your radio headsets.
The seat restraints hiss as they slide up, releasing you. The smell of salt water wafts into the cabin, and you can hear waves nearby. A seagull cries in the distance.
Time to get going.

Aaron goes to the stairs down, he looks for his folding sword and glocks, *Grumble* "Where the hell did I put them?..." He mumbles.

Perigrinium silently exits the ship, and begins surveying the area for movement.

Holds up six fingers.


(Im terrible at dialogue, im just going to be silent.)

"I know, I'm just a tad... cautious with them." He said as he placed his other hand on top of the dog's head. As Rex continued on, he replied, "We'll be going soon as soon as Aaron and perhaps Waylon get down here."

The Rescue Team
You all trump out of the drop ship, and into the midday sun. The city before you is in ruin. Vines cover the walls of storefronts and office buildings. Shattered glass lays in the streets and you'd be hard pressed to find any unbroken windows. Weeds and ferns grow out from cracks in the street and sidewalk. A young tree pokes its leaves out of the roof of a nearby surf shop.

"Last contact co-ordinates are north-west of here. Be advised: Previous military installations may be active. Proceed with caution."

The Survivors
Aaron Vance
You see your equipment lying on a table next to the old television. Four extra magazines lie next to it. You see Waylon sitting on the couch, taking a nap.

Holland and Rex
Your casual conversation is interrupted by some scratching at the windows. You hear something grumbling, and then footsteps moving around the outside of the barricade.

Marcus would be among the first exiting the ship and looking about, rifle in hand. He really hoped that his teammates were at least reasonably competent, if not they would likely end up puddles of muck somewhere...maybe in a fire, depended.

"Okay everybody, remember to shoot first, shoot again, bash it's head in, and then afterwards ask it some questions over a cup of finely brewed tea."

Rex would hear the Noices coming from behinde the gates,as he would stand on all 4 and his ears were perk up,he gave a soft growl as he standed behinde Holland,he hear it loud and clear,whatever was there might not be Friendly and he was ready.