Author Topic: A History of Time to Come  (Read 413 times)

0 Members and 0 Guests are viewing this topic.

RedVulnus

  • POST LORD
  • **********
  • Posts: 2,308
  • Dapperness +20/-4
    • View Profile
Re: A History of Time to Come
« Reply #15 on: March 25, 2021, 03:21:30 pm »
Sokolov walked with a dozen loyal couriers. They weren’t loyal to the company nor Alice, but to the middle aged russian that had given them their new life. His old contacts from his past life had left him with a catalogue of locations and now he’d made his way to one of them. His men followed him into the building and found themselves in an old house, a picturesque living situation for a family of five underneath all the damage.

Walking to the living room Sokolov held his hand out and waited. After a moment one of the men put the sledgehammer in his hands. Twenty minutes later and the men, Sokolov’s Sparrows, pulled the wooden crate free of what remained of the concrete. After a nod from their leader the men opened it and stared at the contents in surprise. Pulling out one of the rifles the first man examined the AK, thankful for his gloves so the old wood didn’t leave splinters. “Soviet?”

Sokolov nodded as he lit his cigarette and walked “Dah, Soviet era. Remnants from ancient plans made by men long dead. Now they will serve us as they once served the men of the red star.”

Carrying the crate out one of the men pointed out the gear needed to be fixed. Sokolov shrugged as he said “That will be taken care of in time. First we get the rest and then we go to the Church for Agmen’s blessing.”

Within the next three hours the men had crates of AKs, Dragunovs, PKMs, SKSs, and a crate of RPG launchers and a large supply of attachments for the guns. From there they made their drive towards the church. Sokolov sat and smoked, smiling as he put together the pieces of his plan. He’d protect his other self’s daughter, and from there he’d do what he could to make things better.

The pair of old military trucks pulled up to the church and stopped. Their thirteen passengers jumped out wearing tan combat gear, a rifle hanging from each man’s sling. Two of them approached the church entrance as the others pulled the cloth off of the back of the trucks revealing the old crates. Sokolov put his cigarette out as he neared the door of the church. He wanted to make a good first impression after all.

The nun that came out of the church wasn’t quite what he’d expected. She wore a habit like those he’d grown up around but hers was stained with grease and machine oil. A belt of tools wrapped around her waist and a bandoleer that looped over her shoulder held parts for machines that she’d been charged to care for. Giving Sokolov a smile she asked “What brings you to the church of Agmen?”

Sokolov returned the smile as he said “I need my weapons blessed, and repaired if possible. I also come with gifts for the church.” As he says this two of his men bring a crate of the old AKs up behind them.

The nun stared for a moment before saying “Oh my. I think I need to go find someone more important than myself to handle this.”

A few minutes later and a trio of nuns were following a man out to the truck. He rushed over and stared at the array of crates as one of Sokolovs men said “We got ten crates of AKs, packed em tight so we got about fifteen per crate. Two crates Dragunovs, three crates PKMs, five  crates SKSs. I’d say we could give the church a crate of AKs, one crate of SKSs, and three Dragunovs and PKMs.”

Sokolov looked at the man, whom he presumed to be a bishop of some sort, and said “I assume the nun told you what I want. My friend just told you what I have to offer.” Picking up one of the old AKs Sokolov examined it “They could function with little work I imagine, but I want to be sure. I know your people value these things as well. I also have offer but that would be for higher ups of the church. For now I assume you can make decision on repairing my weapons.”

After some discussion the Sparrows moved the crates into the church proper and left them for repair. As they walked back to the trucks Sokolov gave out the orders “We’ll start getting questions, unhappy comments, all of it. I want the rest of the postal service moving faster than normal, three day trips are two day right now. I want the Sparrows to split up, take some bikes out and get in touch with some of our friends. Alice has been absorbed in her project too much, and right now we need to keep an eye on the new arrivals. I don’t like hearing my mail trucks are getting pulled over by armored humvees.”

One of the Sparrows asked “And what about our other problem? The fucking hordes of zombies we keep dodging?”

Sokolov shook his head “Solution is in church right now, we’ll do our best to deal with that once we have gear for it.”

The men voiced understanding as they mounted the trucks. The sun was setting as they drove out of Walkerville and back to the Postal Station.  Sokolov had a feeling something was coming and he wanted to be prepared.

Meanwhile three dirt bikes tore through the abandoned highway. The bikes were custom jobs, not the standardized bikes the postal service issued. The rider in the back pulled the Uzi from his jacket and fired at the sprinting zombies chasing them. “One. Two. THREE!” he said as he took out the closest of the zombies.

The trio were in charge of getting a special package back to Walkerville. The run had been fine until they’d run into a horde that had migrated ahead of schedule. “You know I thought the crews were trying to keep this one corralled in that old city a few miles north!”

The second biker tossed a pipe bomb over his shoulder as he responded “Crew must have bit the dust then cause these fuckers sure are hungry!”

The explosion had taken care of a few but the biker bringing up the rear still fired on target after target. As he reloaded the Uzi he added “Well I don’t exactly care about the crew right now. I care about us getting back home with all our limbs!”

The lead turned them off the highway and tossed a bit of bait off to the side as he told them “Shut up you two! We’re Sparrows, we’re gonna make it just fine!”

Thankfully most of the zombies ran after the bait as the trio tore down the road and out into the countryside. The few that were left the man in the rear took out with his Uzi as the lead took them onto a trail in the woods the Sparrows had mapped out and rigged with a few surprises for anyone following them. The trio rode fast through it and out the other side to find more zombies waiting. Coming to a halt they looked at each other. “Guess it’s gotta be the hard way then.”

saltmummy626

  • Admin
  • POST LORD
  • *****
  • Posts: 2,457
  • Dapperness +20/-7
  • Lord of Gulgatha
    • View Profile
Re: A History of Time to Come
« Reply #16 on: September 03, 2021, 04:35:29 am »
The Craftpriests of Agmen took in the weapons, put aside their own projects, and set to work one them. Stripping, cleaning, recording in blueprint form, reassembling, and refining like a practiced manufacturing line. Most of the rifles were fine enough but some had not weathered times endless march as well as others. A couple new barrels were turned and a stock replaced. When the Craftpriests were done, the guardians took the weapons and tested them. Sighting in and firing. Making sure each one worked flawlessly before sending them on to be given the final examination.

"Truly fine work." A bishop commented, "The Craftpriests really are a blessing."

"If you believe in that sort of thing." Said another bishop as he packed one of the rifles back into its box with the others while a mouse faced laborer moved to nail it shut.

"How you became a bishop Zachary, I'll never know." Groaned the first bishop.

"It's because Agmen doesn't care if you believe in her or it or... Whatever. It doesn't care. What did you say we got for this work, Len?" Zachary asked.

"The man donated a box of the Kalashnikov's and Carbines along with three of the long rifles and machine guns." Len mused, "I'm... Not sure if he meant three each or three total. Should we assume three each?" Zachary shrugged and ran a hand over a PKM.

"A good haul of slug throwers. I suppose it isn't important where they got them?" Zachary asked. Len looked over the rifles and the stack of rolled blueprints resting on a cart, ready to be taken and filed away in the chapel undercroft. "Lianne is going to want one of these Dragunovs."

"I know. She and her partner have been after Arch-Aegis Hennigan for new rifles for some time. I suppose they've earned them..." Zachary said, nodding.

Len rubbed his chin in thought, then took up the cart. "I don't see why they couldn't. Do me a favor and call them in when you get the chance? And get ahold of Ms. Walker and Mr. Lowe to come take a look afterwords?"

"Of course Zachary. I just hope that Her Holiness, Ms. Walker will forgive your less serious faith."
I'm really just a sexy skeleton in a suit.
Fingering techniques are very important
Quote from: Six
Using guns while sober? Sounds like you're a coward.
Yes, little hats for every noodle.
Everyone is forks it seems.
"Everything is fucked forever, and ever, and ever." -Forrest 2016

saltmummy626

  • Admin
  • POST LORD
  • *****
  • Posts: 2,457
  • Dapperness +20/-7
  • Lord of Gulgatha
    • View Profile
Re: A History of Time to Come
« Reply #17 on: October 04, 2021, 08:16:19 pm »
"How is your back treating you, Ms. Walker?"

"Like heck. Please Hector, just Catnip. You can't just change to a more formal tone after so much time."

Catnip leaned over her cane and looked over what the chapel had taken in for repairs and what they'd been paid. Russian weapons, old ones. Fine ones. The chapel had neatly packed them back up into new boxes just in time for Catnip and Hector to come and take a look before the fresh new lids were nailed down. Hector shuffled a little uncomfortably at Catnip's request. His station demanded a certain level of courtesy and aplomb that he had grown accustomed to.

"I'm sorry Nip, you know how it is." He apologized.

"Of course. People have expectations of how bigshot schmot guys like us have to behave and some habits die hard. These are good rifles yeah? The chapel is keeping these here, as payment, but we've blueprinted all of them. Does your order need anything like these? We can of course make more of them." Catnip asked in return. Hector looked over the weapons with an eye that had diminished little in it's expertise in the last twenty or so years.

"No, well, yes. But New Paris and the outlying settlements should be taken care of first. My people have plenty to work with as it is. Especially thanks to the mechanics you sent us." Hector said, easing up a bit.

"Oh, that reminds me. How are they? Chase, Maria, and Deids? I heard they'd been making improvements to your armor?" Catnip asked. Hector nodded at that and grinned.

"They're doing well. The armor was a bit stiff during the first few tests, but when it came time to actually use it, it performed like a dream. Or so I heard." Hector told her with a bit of pride. It was Catnip's turn to nod at something and share in Hectors pride. The trio of mechanics Catnip had sent to assist Hectors own aging technician had begun work immediately on improving the exoskeletons used by Hectors heavier units, culminating in the recovery and repair of an S.H. class powered armor. A hulking monstrosity had appeared in a small settlement called Blueville and the Lilith sized suit had been dispatched along with a small group to deal with it. The suit, Catnip and Hector had been informed, had performed beyond expectation by punching the hulks head into its chest cavity.

"Excellence." Catnip said.

"Excell-ent." Hector corrected.

"Either, or." Catnip countered. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and adjusted the cane so she could run a hand over one of the machine guns. "You should come around to the chapel more often Hec."

"You see me around the farm all the time though." Hector mused, wondering what brought that on.

"No, to the chapel. My people and you're people should have more interaction. I know some of my craftsman can be a bit... preachy, sometimes but still. I think it would benefit the chapel to see how your people are putting the things they make to use, and it would be good for your people to see how some of their gear is made and maintained." She explained. Hector pursed his lips, then grinned. Sure they'd seen each other plenty but had they talked? Really talked? Not really. Mica hadn't talked to him much either, but Mica had been more overt about the disapproval that had spurred on that drifting. Disapproval of what? Disapproval which started the moment it became known that Hector had taken a second girlfriend, and that Roxanne was alright with it. Catnip had coped and moved on, Mica had begun to do the same before she passed, and Kathrine... Kathrine would never approve. Would never even look at Hector's relationships with anything besides thinly veiled distaste. It was a shame that they'd drifted apart in such a way.

"You know what?" Hector said with a clap, "Sure. Why not? I'll arrange to have some of our old equipment brought over and have the men stick around to observe. If that won't get in the way of your peoples workload, that is?"

"That's not what I meant Hec." Catnip laughed, "but I get what you mean. The craftpriest's would be happy to host you."
I'm really just a sexy skeleton in a suit.
Fingering techniques are very important
Quote from: Six
Using guns while sober? Sounds like you're a coward.
Yes, little hats for every noodle.
Everyone is forks it seems.
"Everything is fucked forever, and ever, and ever." -Forrest 2016

Noctifer-De-Mortem

  • Lurkifer
  • Postcount Generalissimo
  • *
  • Posts: 1,826
  • Dapperness +20/-25
  • G.M.O Combat Cyborg: Mk.Alpha 5.3
  • Location: 7th Dimension
    • View Profile
Re: A History of Time to Come
« Reply #18 on: October 04, 2021, 08:35:30 pm »
A lot had happened from this current point in time. A lot of plans Roxanne had had simply didn’t happen; but no one seemed to care or notice, not even the once that involved other people. She had engaged in many other things and helped some people but for some reason that all seemed like a blur. Didn’t really matter, however, as her memory was sharp as ever and whatever this fuzzy feeling was it had gone away now.

Roxanne wondered what Lucy and the gang were up to. Last she saw of them they were camped just outside the fa- walkerville, right. Looking around she notices this wasn’t the place of just a few friends roughing the cataclysm but a rising civilization. She missed the adventure but peace was nice too. Her thoughts wondered back to the previous subject, what about Neo-SoA?

They had probably gone back to the tower. It had surprisingly gone unnoticed by the big factions at play here despite its size and purpose. Guess that fact that most of it was underground helped. Melody had gone with them, Roxanne wondered if she got membership; wondered if she had learned to cope with her “curse”.

That thought brought her back to someone else, Victor; and that in turn the new thing he and Helen were working on. “Wonder how they are going along. I don’t do groups anymore but hey, more power to them.”, Roxanne told herself. Her mind wandered to that little memory curse Victor had and if he had gotten used to it or found a way to fight it back. She had helped get a lot of that back, he at least was able to recognize Helen and their child a while ago and he seemed happy. “Good for you edgelord, you deserve some peace… after all I made you go through. Need another sip!”

To no ones surprised Roxanne was wandering around with a bottle of premium spirit booze drinking straight from the bottle. This one was quite weak but was simple to make. The fact this thing could affect your soul to intoxicate even ghost and spirits would have been a hit if commercialized but Roxanne kept the formula to herself to enjoy; only a few select people new about it.

Yes the carefree spirit walked around drinking and saluting the many working people. Today was a good day all things considered. It was peaceful and quiet until a familiar noise was heard; the handheld two way radio she carried. Roxanne looked at it puzzled before shrugging and answering it. “Hello, Roxanne Eris Luna de Gray speaking!”

There was a slight moment of silence before a deep sigh could be heard. “Seriously? Do you realize how pretentious it is to combine the names of you two into one? What am I saying, you don’t care. Why do I even bother… Anyway, enough of that. This is Victor, need to talk to you ASAP.”

Something was off about all this; Victor didn’t speak like this. Not ever since the incident; no, not where he lost his memories but the one that defined the two of them before the cataclysm even began. Something deep inside Eris’ memories triggered a feeling of uneasiness as this tone and manner of speaking was awfully familiar in a way she didn’t expect to ever hear again.

“Helloooo, why the silence? Did this thing break again?”, Victor asked.

“N-no. Had ours checked a bit ago and it’s in working order. I can hear you clearly.”, Roxanne answered.

Another moment of silence and then he spoke again. “Is that you Eris? I know you are the one speaking now.”

“Yeah, its me… How are you Vic’?”

A small chuckle could be heard from Victor. “Haven’t heard that little pet name in quite a while. So you figured me out huh?”

“Yeah, you are speaking way too casual for my liking. You haven’t been like that ever since… you know… I am sure you can remember now can you?”This time there was a long pause between the two. Eris looked intently at the radio knowing Victor was doing the same.

“Listen, I need to talk to you ok? Come to the woods to that little clearing you like so much, alone… There’s a few things we need to discuss.”

Roxanne stayed silent for a couple moments more before asking her own question. “It’s time isn’t it? Time to have that talk we have been avoiding for over a decade and half… Are you sure?”

“Listen, we have been through a lot this few years. We can’t afford to live in denial for much longer; we have people who care about us now. It’s not like the old days, just you and me against the world. I couldn’t protect you but now I don’t need to. We need to end this Roxanne. We have to.”

The answer was immediate this time, she nodded as she did so. “I know. It’s just so sudden. I’ll be right there so sit tight.”

“Alright, I will… Oh, and Roxanne?”

“Yeah?”, Can you bring me some clothes please?

That caught her off guard. “What do you mean?”

“A little experiment tore my outfit… currently hiding in a bush… please hurry, this is uncomfortable.”

Roxanne gave a hardy laugh at that. Despite everything somethings never change. “I gotcha then. Wonder which dress will look the prettiest on you~”

“I swear to god Roxanne…”

“Which one?”

“All of them! Just shut up and come here!”
Quote from: Soviet Commissar (COD WaW)
Abandon you post, abandon your homes, abandon all hope!

Quote from: Alice Margatroid
Bitch,get out of the way!

Quote from: Fujiwara no Mokou link=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YIDxZMMjNTA
With the power of a phoenix I can proudly say everything is hand-grilled!!!

Quote from: Liberty Prime
Obstruction detected. Composition: Titanium alloy supplemented by photonic resonance barrier. Probability of mission hindrance...0%!

...I wish for airborne rabies.

Granted. A giant box full of bats appears on your doorstep...

 

NOCTIFER IS A FAGGOT