Author Topic: CDDA: Adventures in Cataclysm  (Read 33306 times)

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saltmummy626

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Re: CDDA: Adventures in Cataclysm
« Reply #5115 on: February 20, 2019, 07:41:49 am »
The story was totally familiar by the end of the day. Person after person was led into the office. "My name is so and so, I was a such and such. I put my faith in the Archbishop and we were misled." They told tales of how the big storm came and things had changed. There had been a burst of light in the eye of the hurricane, and when the storm ended the Archbishop had begun gathering people up. slowly at first, then with increasing frequency. Again, something changed. The earth had churned in Abaddon and some ungodly monstrosity, too terrible to look at, had appeared and just as quickly disappeared. When Astor made his next appearance before the gathered people of New Bangor, he had made a terrible proclamation. New Bangor had been undermined. Corrupted by body corrupters and demons. New Bangor would be purged of it's corruption.

On the first day, fifty three people had been purged and on the second another forty. Then on the third Astor robbed his followers of over a hundred people. It was decided that the remaining would flee. Many had already done so, it would be simple if they all left at once. There would be no one to come after them if they all went together. If they stayed, they would surely die. Astor was a monster, and the robots of God's Army were in service to him alone. They'd started with seven buses, Catalina had only seen the two that made it. The others had broken down or been destroyed. In all, maybe seventy people or so had made it this far.

Catalina and the others assigned to assist in processing gave her reassurances that they wouldn't be harmed. Yes, they'd be watched closely and yes, they would probably be looked on negatively at first. If they had anything that would mark them out as God's Army, they were to turn such things in or keep them hidden. They could stay so long as they did their part.

"Okay," Nell sighed, "That's the last of them. What do you make of all that Captain?" Larion slipped out and closed the door behind him with a perfunctory farewell.

"It sounds like a clusterfuck." Catalina said, "I'm not entirely sure what to make of it yet, but we will have to see what comes of it. It all matches up with some of Jennifer's reports... If you want to take a look at that Nell, go ahead and ask Jenny if you can. Just don't spread it around too much."

"Speaking of Captain... How do you think Jenny is going to take this?"

"She'll be fine." Catalina replied, casually filing away her collection of reports, "Maybe she'll recognize some... Oh."


Jennifer wasn't fine. Jennifer was alarmed. She had just finished her second helping of fries when the first of the New Bangor refugees nervously filed into the cafeteria and took up a position against the wall. Standing against it with their hands behind their backs and glancing around the large room like harried animals. Other people walked past them like they were just more survivors, but Jennifer knew. More people trickled in and she recognized some of them. What had her alarmed was the idea that they would recognize her. Sure enough though, someone did.

"You're a mutant!?" A man hissed, dropping himself in the chair next to and badly startling her. He was tall, old, and a bit scruffy with the perpetual five o' clock shadow and swept back short hair unique to a certain class of late middle aged working man. Jennifer recognized him as the man who ran the bar in New Bangor where she'd spent time collecting information and sharing half true stories of her own. "I'd like to say I feel betrayed."

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Jennifer said stiffly, "What are you people doing here?"

"Sure you do, and I could ask you the same thing. I don't have to though because you're a mutant, and of course you're here since that's the case. What were you doing in New Bangor?"

"Spying." Jennifer said simply. The old barman nodded solemnly. She'd spent plenty of time in the bar and that made sense to him. What better place to keep your ear to the ground than the bar? He hadn't come to indict the woman, he had questions and just maybe she could be a 'friendly' in to this place. Someone who could vouch for them, so long as she could be convinced. The silence between them stretched out to an uncomfortable degree, but no one noticed besides him. The people standing against the wall started to disperse among the tables now, seemingly emboldened by the barman's initiative. Jennifer was glaring at him, and it took him a moment to notice. "You didn't answer my question."

"New Bangor's full of mind controlled undead, devil hunters, and especially robots. The Archbishop started making all the humans disappear..." He told her flatly. Then his lips quivered almost imperceptibly and added, "They took Madaline." Jennifer had to rake her memory for the name and came up with the face of the friendly chubby woman who'd gone from table to table refilling mugs and offering bread or salted mystery meat. She'd had doughy eye's and a pretty face. Jennifer had once noted off handedly how the barman and the barmaid often had their eyes drawn to one another when the other wasn't looking. "These people, the regular folk, have nothing to be afraid of." He went on suddenly steering the conversation away from this subject, "They were just people huddling together against what the world has become. A whole lot of terrified people sticking together for protection. They've got nothing to be afraid of from this place I mean. But them, the fighting men and women who lined themselves up against that wall like a line of criminals in an execution line, they are afraid."

'Of course they were.' Jennifer thought, 'Fighters in the den of the enemy, of course they are.'

"They know what they've done to the people here or people much like them. They don't know if it's safe here for them, if the people here can even forgive them. You understand? It was hard for this people to choose to come here. Some of them are still unsure and some of them just can't let go. I'm a man of the world, I can let go, but in order to get them to do so you have to-"

Jennifer cut him off with finger. "What the hell brought this on? You guys are here for a start, I don't see anybody bullying your people, so what brought this on?"

"I suppose..." He said, "I suppose I'm just preempting."

"Well don't do that. They don't seem to be getting along all that terribly. You could probably tell them to loosen up a bit though." As she said this, she indicated discreetly a nearby table where a woman was sitting stock still and rigid among a group of chattering locals, one of whom sat tall above the others as a prime example of the deeply mutated, a young serpentine woman with a camera and a crayon drawn journalists badge. The newcomer couldn't help but stare at Leslie uncomfortably. It was probably fortunate that it had been that particular mutant, since Leslie could put up with that sort of strange behavior for a long time before losing her cool. Without her armor, Jennifer hadn't recognized her at all until she got a good long look at her face. Cherise Cohen, Templar of the blue flame. One of God's Army's small group of skilled mutant hunters. No wonder she sat so awkwardly. Jenny couldn't help but think that Cherise must have been pissing herself at that moment, but she could see why the barman had seen the need to preempt whatever it was he was preempting. These people knew what they had done and what they were responsible for. The fighters knew well what had happened here little more than a year ago. She thought for a long time, conferring with Cheena. Cheena wasn't having any of it at first. The fox inside Jenny hated these people, but there was a weakness to that hate. For all that had occurred to Cheena and the death wrought upon her skulk, she couldn't force herself to keep on hating. It wasn't a part of her.

"I'm going to go." The Barman said briskly rising from his own seat, "I need to make myself useful I guess."

Jennifer grabbed his elbow, getting a few ideas. "Hold on a second." She instructed. Cheena had reminded her of the little 'job' Jennifer had been planning out, and that she'd likely need more than just the two men she'd already conscripted. "Hey chef!" she called and waited for the chef to emerge from he steaming kitchen, "This guy needs a job, he's got experience pre and post Cataclysm working a bar. You think you have a space for him?"

"Sure thing little lady, always need people to watch the floor and run errands. Can he cook?"

"No," The barman said, "Not well I mean. I can wash a dish though."

Lyle took the barmans details and scuttled back to his kitchen to get him an apron. "In exchange," Jennifer said, "I need you to introduce me to Cherise Cohen, and any of the other fighters you guys brought with you. I'm getting together a group and maybe somebody will want to earn a little redemption."
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