Author Topic: Winds of memories (Cata RP Character background stories)  (Read 1566 times)

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Noctifer-De-Mortem

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Winds of memories (Cata RP Character background stories)
« on: September 30, 2017, 06:46:48 pm »
   Timeline: 2 weeks into the cataclysm. 6 months before the death of Hunter Roxanne Blackmore.

   People involved: Victor, Alt-Roxanne



   It had been a long day for Victor and Roxanne. The cities were infested but they needed to go in to scavenge whatever supplies they could find. Victor was particularly weakened by the effects of the Sword of the Void draining his life essence in order for him to fight. The twosome had reached an abandoned motel and decided to secure it for the night.

   “Alright. You know the drill Victor.”, Roxanne explained to Victor, “Stay back and I will handle whatever dead lays in our way; I have walked enough to fully recharge and my rifle is ready to go as well.

   “I can fight too you know! Don't go rushing into things, that will get you killed some day.”, Victor exclaimed to Roxanne.

   “Look, you rely way too much on that sword of much for combat. Right now it's drained and it has taken quite the toll on you. Seriously, that thing is gonna get you killed if you are not careful.”, Roxanne responded, “Honesty, you should pick up a gun or let me teach you how to use that thing in it's off state…

   Roxanne didn't wait for an answer, she picked up her rifle and walked against the wall towards the main parking area of the motel. She would have a clear view of the rooms’ entrances once she cleared anything there. When she turned the corner, she found only three zombies. Roxanne laugh at that and slung her rifle back. Her laughter had attracted their attention and she just smiled.

   “Hello boys! How are you doing tonight?”, Roxanne addressed the undead. She then deployed her bionic blade and advanced towards them. As they came close, she simply sliced them with her blade and were swiftly put down. Once all noise had ended, Victor knew that as his cue to approach. When he turned the corner, he saw Roxanne bashing the corpsed to make sure they would not get up; all the while humming a tune.

   “Alright then...so we have this place clear, what now?”, Victor asked, a bit disturbed by the scene in front in him.

   Roxanne finished with the last body, finished her tune and looked at Victor when she stood up.
We are going to get ourselves a room to sleep for the night. This place looks defendable but we don’t have the supplies to rebuild here. We could stay here for at most 3 days.”, Roxanne answered Victor, “For now, let me open one a door and we will discuss this inside."

   With a lockpick in hand, Roxanne approached one of the doors and started to fiddle with the door lock. “Almost there...just a couple of pins...there!”, Roxanne said as she messed with the lock until it eventually opened. “Alright, let’s go in.”, Roxanne told Victor, she motioned him to go inside.

   Victor did as instructed, he was tired and would get some sleep once he had a quick meal. To his surprise, Roxanne entered the room as well and locked the door behind her. “Wait...aren’t you getting your own room?”, asked Victor.

   Roxanne grinned at his comment. “What? Never taken a woman to a motel before?”, Roxanne teased. Victor just glared at her and she laughed. “You are too easy Victor.”, Roxanne commented, “I am not getting my own room as it’s easy to defend a single room. It would be to hard to wake up to you screaming if a zombie breaks into your room and by the time I get there...not a good idea. Besides, there are two beds here so calm down ok?

   Victor reluctantly agreed, Roxanne had just indirectly insulted him be he knew she had a point. “Alright then, but I choose the bed to the far end of the room.”, Victor declared. Roxanne shrugged and she hopped onto her bed. She took a can of soup and a scavenged soda and started to eat. Victor did the same, he hopped onto his bed and took out an MRE and some juice.

   “So, any plans for the future?”, Roxanne asked to break the silence.

   “Same ones I had since I took the oath. I will continue to research into the arcane. I will preserve knowledge knowledge lost due to the cataclysm. My work will not go unfinished.”, Victor responses.

   Roxanne frowned and gave a sight. “Look, I know you have accomplished a lot of great things but...you don’t have the resources you have then. Don’t do anything reckless Victor; you might end up getting yourself killed. I’ll be damned if I will let my partner die because he was too stubborn to not play with fancy toys.”, Roxanne told Victor.

   “And how is that any different from those who stray from humanity via bionic and mutations? Those who strayed from the path of humanity, and in some case, left it all together. Fools...we together had build an empire...may Goddess Venus have mercy on them.”, Victor replied.

   Roxanne raised an eyebrow; this wasn’t a side of Victor she had seen before. So he did not approve of Cyborgs and Mutant? She decided to press him on this. First, she deployed her bionic blade and brandished it around. “What was that? I hope you are not talking about me...You who realizes on a tool to survive chastise those who seek a path different from yours? I didn’t think that’s what you thought Victor...You think you know someone…”, Roxanne answered back.

   Victor recoiled back at her deployment of the blade and her words made him regret speaking without thought. “No no no! You misunderstand! I don’t care if anyone decides to augment themselves. I just don’t like it when they claim it is ‘the next step on human evolution’. Fools! We are all human! This is what defines us, together and united as a species. Those who stray from it and decide to “transcend” don’t know what they are talking about. You are fine Roxanne...your mutations are as much tools as my sword is. You are just much skilled at it...Don’t think bad of me...I just believe we should all unite under the banner of Humanity more than ever.”, Victor corrected.

   What he said was true, but he had left one part out. The way he felt as if mutations and augmentations were impurities. They took the human form and perverted it in the name of progress. He silently frowned upon Roxanne’s own bionics, why would the order do this to someone? They seeked to quell the natural and yet mingled with the artificial? That being said, Victor would never let on to this; this was something he would take to the grave. Years later, he would come to be reminded of this when a certain group expressed similar ideals but they acted on them. A great conflict would silently happen inside him, one that would not be quelled for years afterward.

   “Is that so...I don’t particularly agree with you but to each their own I suppose...anyways. It is getting late. We should sleep now. I will be teaching you how to fight properly tomorrow ok? So get some rest. Alright, good night Victor.”, Roxanne told Victor. She put away her remains and gear and then laid on the bed to sleep. Due to her haste and shock at Victor’s comments, she neglected to put her bionic blade away and sleep with it deployed.

   Victor soon followed too. He put away his stuff and reviewed his notes before going to bed. He took a look at Roxanne sleeping and noted her bionic blade still deployed. He gave a deep sight before laying on his bed himself. “Great...she now hates me...I hope we can move past this…”, Victor whispered to himself. Soon, he turned off the light of their mutual atomic lamp they shared and he went fast to sleep.

   That night, they would both have similar dreams. They were both fighting each other; they represented different teams. It was a battle of ideologies it seemed. Difference being would be the outcome, each would win in their own version and further reinforce their beliefs.
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Chaosvolt

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Since this would be a good place to post our non-smut background stuff, I'll post an old one I had elsewhere.

Timeline: The day the imminent cataclysm began to spiral out of control.

People involved: Nathaniel, alt-Hector



The group made their way towards the rudimentary checkpoint in column, expecting everything to be fine given things appeared to be under control up ahead. Sounds of distant weapons fire and the cries of the undead could still be faintly heard on the wind.

"3-13, this is 2-14. We are approaching checkpoint Kilo, requesting sit-rep." came a voice over the radio. There were 15 of them in total. 2 humvees in front, followed by 3 experimental models of APC. Then 4 light tanks, 4 main battle tanks, and finally 2 experimental minireactor-powered tankettes. "3-13, do you read me? Checkpoint's up but I d-"

Someone interrupted, a woman's voice. "This is corporal Andrews, 1st squad, 3rd platoon, 3-13. Checkpoint is hot, I repeat. Checkpoint is hot! Platoon is fucked, unmanned is mal-" Gunfire resounded and cut off the signal, overheard from a building nearby. The column had just halted when the checkpoint's anti-materiel turret whirled about, a .50 caliber round ripping into the driver of the lead humvee.

Suddenly all around them the formation was taking fire, several unmanned armored vehicles, mainly light tank drones and a few chicken-like machines, forced the group to frantically try and break out from the flanking AIs.

Radio chatter at that point was abuzz with activity, a sudden explosion rocking the city block as one of the tankettes went up in a plume of flame, scattering debris and pieces of radioactive material everywhere. That and the sweeping flames of a nearby machine forced several of the scattering tanks to button up their hatches.

Among them in the chaos, two of the light tanks had turned down a side road, the lead veering and swerving around a stricken, burnt-out schoolbus to buy a moment's reprieve from wild AI-controlled turret fire. In the rear tank of the pair, Corporal Nathaniel Ford was frantically managing the storm of radio reports, directing his crew, and watching the camera feeds. "Gunner, target walker 4 o'clock, 60 meters. Tomcat 2, UAFV at 9 o'clock, 120 meters." he directed.

Nearby was a burning wreck that used to be one of the APCs, the crew and personnel from Division XV almost all killed by a tank drone round that struck it. Out of the wreckage were 3 survivors, powered armor visibly glowing from the heat as they simply walked out into the street. The glow faded from visual and thermal imaging as advanced climate control and environmental systems worked overtime, one returning fire on a distant chicken walker with a nearly-overheated laser rifle, the others searching for any intact weapons as the fire had ruined theirs. For now, the two tanks drove on.

He remembered with some amusement the nicknames he and other crews had picked for the various armor in the company. Nothing that special really. Tomcat 1-4 for the lights, Bobcat 1-4 for the heavies, Lynx 1 and 2 for the atomic mini-tanks. A resounding boom echoed through the street as an armor-piercing shell reduced a two-legged monstrosity of a machine to a tangled mess of metal. The tank in front of them moved to put a ruined old house between them and the tank drone that was speeding along the street. He didn't know their commander that well, a corporal Allen or Alex or something like that. But he knew the driver, his friend Hector. Very reason he was in this disorganized mess of a unit, slinging phrases and unit designations that were a clusterfuck compared to regular Army organization.

"Commander, reloading AP." the gunner answered over the intercom, seeing the tank ahead of him swirling its gun barrel to knock out another drone they hadn't seen, the one they saw nearing the cover of a building. "Fire at will!" Nathaniel directed, seeing that they had only a moment before another building would obscure the target, wishing that these machines had enough of heat signature to track them through cover, given the 120mm round could easily punch through the building. There was a sudden jolt as the tank rolled a tread right over a stranded car, right as the main gun fired. A spray of shattered pavement filled the air as the round struck the ground several feet off-target, the gunner frantically loading as the machine slipped out of sight. What he could see clearly was an impact that rocked the right side of the other light tank, having just turned and rolled towards the closest available cover.

"H-hec...to-Tomcat 2, are you still up? Are you reading me?" Nathaniel said, voice breaking a bit. To his surprise, Hector answered him, having flicked a switch on his console. "I'm still up, Tomcat-1. Commander and gunner are out, cameras are half-blind." he said, the tank turning awkwardly. The right track was also barely holding up.

"Tomcat-2, get in defilade and across the street, I will have eyes on tango shortly." Nathaniel directed. Hector meanwhile was fumbling with the controls, feeling how the machine was struggling to keep going. He felt his side, feeling the blood running down, before regarding the pock-marked panel of steel that had driven spalling into him when the round hit the tank. He'd been through worse, he thought. But simply walking out of this wasn't an option, and he knew Nathaniel might get himself killed trying to help him limp out of danger.

"Negative. Nate, I'm hit. Get that fucker and fall back." he said, prompting Nathaniel to go a bit pale. "Hect...Tomcat 2. This is an order, get in cover..." he said, unable to manage the sort of commanding tone he was used to. The stricken light tank was simply trundling down the street, leaving itself exposed to the tank drone. "Gunner, fire on visual!"

In a split-second, so many things happened at once. The light tank erupted into a ball of flames, sending wreckage in every direction, turret sent sailing into the air. A round had hit it straight through the back, exploding inside and setting off a chain reaction. In nearly the same instant the main gun on Nathaniel's own tank repaid an eye for an eye, catastrophically taking out the tank drone.

"Fuck! Tomcat 1 h-here, is anyone still up?" he said, having to practically force himself to call out on the radio. Someone else answered. "This is Bobcat 4, we're holding steady. I see multiple unmanned pushing through a mob of X-rays, en route to your location. I am holding Colonial street, advise falling back."

It was then that another voice came on the radio. "Captain Richardson to 2-14. Division HQ is confirming that every AO with functioning unmanned is fucked! Anyone still up, pull out and link up with 24-11 if possible. Otherwise, you have your contingencies." For a moment, weapons fire drowned out the voice on the radio. "We're immobile and X-rays are closing in fast. You have your orders, out."

It seemed like days but in truth had been mere minutes. Most of the unit's armor was taken out in seconds, the light tanks pushing through several now-traitorous machines only to be whittled down, and most of the main battle tanks pinned down until only one had broken out. By then it was just a single light tank and a main battle tank frantically fleeing the mess as zombies swarmed over the last few dismounted soldiers, mobbing rogue war machines that fired on living and dead, civilian and military, as if anything moving was fair game.

They couldn't get any word from HQ, nor the group they were directed to link up with. The two tank crews were on their own...
« Last Edit: November 11, 2017, 04:23:44 pm by Chaosvolt »

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Timeline: Roughly two years after the cataclysm, during the events of The Shifting.

People involved: Nathaniel



A main battle tank rumbled across an old bridge, winding its way to the edge of the wetlands that surrounded the small area of open field. It passed a weathered old sign warning of the area up ahead being government property, and warning would-be trespassers of automated defense systems.

The structure itself was rather plain and unassuming, a small fortified bunker surrounded by a razor-wire fence, two positions for guard stations built into the fence perimeter. Those guards had long-since either deserted or succumbed to the horrors that now made up their daily life.

The tank halted at the end of the road, a hatch at the rear opening as a woman stepped out, making her way to the sliding fence gate. It was chained up and locked in its hasty abandonment, making use of a scavenged acetylene torch she cut away the chain, soon sliding the gate open. A man, looking out of the commander's hatch, said something into his headset that was drowned out by the idling engine, and the tank pulled forward to park in the relative safety of the fence.

Soon all four of them stood by the entrance, the tank's commander fumbling with a keycard. It identified him as Corporal Samuel Erik, with no other unit information other than 2nd Company, SPD XIV. Once they were just one of 15 entire divisions, in theory the first line of defense in case of threats that few knew of back then. In practice, little more than guinea pigs for testing experimental weapons, composed largely of soldiers on the verge of washing out of basic training and whoever else seemed easily manipulated into joining, existing only for a futile attempt to sweep a growing problem under the rug.

Soon the driver stepped up, giving a nod to Samuel, before the tank commander spoke. "Alright. Reyes, Daniels, you two keep an eye on things." he said, addressing the woman from earlier and a nervous-looking young man. Sophia Reyes and Conner Daniels. He then looked to the driver. "Pvt. Alexander, you're with me." he added.

Jonathan Alexander readied his M4 and waited, the other two taking positions behind the tank. None of them stood directly in front of the armored shutter as Sam slid his ID card through the slot, expecting the defense systems within to be just as haywire as the robots and turrets that turned on him long ago. That fateful day just over 2 years ago, when the world ended and their last, desperate attempt to control the situation ended in their own unmanned weapons reducing an armored company to just two fleeing vehicles.

Since then they were on their own, and in dire need of supplies. Not to mention parts for the surviving light tank, whose crew was waiting for them on the north side of a town to their east. The door slid open and several alcoves closed up, deactivating military-grade turrets that would've fired on any living target, no longer heeding old IFF protocols.

With a sigh of relief Jonathan went in first, flashlight illuminating the darkened stairs as the corporal followed close behind. It was just when they descended into the storage level of the bunker, that they felt a faint tremor in the ground, giving them only a moment until an abrupt shock knocked them off their feet, the walls of the structure creaking and straining as though being torn in half.

A chunk of the structure, including the stairs, was suddenly swallowed up by stone, as though engulfed and consumed by solid rock, only for the outer face of it to explode outward from the stress, dust filling the air. Before Jonathan even became fully aware of what happened, Samuel was completely crushed and buried in rubble. "Corporal? Corporal!" he shouted, sent into a coughing fit from the dust as he knelt by the shattered stones, frantically trying to feel around with only his mounted light to see by. There were no sounds of agony or frantic cries for help. The man had been killed instantly, and buried under rubble he couldn't easily move.

The gravity of the situation started to sink in. He was trapped, with no means to dig his way out, and the keycard was lost under rubble. He realized the only way he'd get out alive was if Sophia and Conner were to dig him out. Until then he sat down, trying to conserve air, and took out an old notepad. He had nothing better to do, and he let his mind wander.

Above him however, the bunker was gone, taking the two remaining crewmen with it. An old farm now lingered in its place, drawn forth from a world that was being torn asunder. The foundation of the farmhouse settled the slightest bit, going unnoticed by the survivors gathered there.

Elsewhere, Nathaniel waited outside the old light tank, examining his supplies and gear, before looking back to the machine once nicknamed Tomcat 1. Ammo was completely out, fuel was running low, and the engine was wearing down. And now the batteries were dead from their attempts to get in contact with the other tank on radio. It'd been two weeks since they last heard from the crew of Bobcat 4. Their gunner had been lost to the old city during a supply run, and now the weather made it unbearable to shelter in the stricken vehicle.

Just yesterday the two survivors, the driver and commander, had an argument over what to do. The chain of command no longer mattered to them. Nathaniel, the tank's commander, wanted to fall back into the woods, skirt around the city, make sporadic raids on it and eventually continue south, considering the others a lost cause. The driver wanted to make a beeline through town and reach the site of the bunker as soon as possible.

The two parted ways, Nathaniel holstering an old Glock scavenged from a shambling monster in the guise of a half-eaten police officer. He'd given his old service pistol to the main battle tank's commander, after his was damaged during heavy fighting a few months after they deserted. He gathered the supplies they divided up, slinging an old leather jacket over his shoulder, the weather too warm to bother wearing it. It wasn't even in his size, an old friend's "lucky jacket" that was given to him about 6 months before the cataclysm started...
« Last Edit: November 11, 2017, 04:38:02 pm by Chaosvolt »

Noctifer-De-Mortem

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Timeline: 6 years before the cataclysm, 5 years before name change.

People involved: Roxanne Luna



   Roxanne woke up in a surgical bed. A gas mask of sorts was being removed from her face while she awoke. Her memory was fuzzy but she soon recalled what had happened; she had just undergone bionic surgery to officially earn the title of Cleanser.

   It had been two months ago since she had been recruited. She remembered her orders; “Go to this location and accept their offer but reject their gift. Once you awake be sure to thank them properly.” She was now awake, she would test out her new toys and then give the men in the room a proper thank you.

   “I hope the procedure was to you and your benefactor's satisfaction?”, Answered an older man wearing a doctor’s coat and glasses; he help a clipboard close, “We installed a bionics to your expectations. We used CMB of course, but the result should be no less impressive! Why don’t you try it out?”

   “Yeah, let’s.”, Roxanne answered. She accessed her BUI for the first time ever and she smiled. After a quick read of the digital descriptions of her bionics, she got to work. First on the line was to test her Close Quarter Combat bionic. She set it to Bionic Combatives and tested out the new moves she now suddenly knew how to perform. She stepped forward as she gave kick and punch to the air in rapid succession; her movements were fluid and perceived. This would come in handy a lot, she thought; she had guessed correctly.

   While she was doing her little “dance”, armed men looked on. They held rifles close to their person with hand in the weapon’s grip but away from the trigger. Roxanne smiled after her little demonstration was over. She gave a small bow to the armed men and then continued to toy with her new bionics. She gave another pass to her BUI and found the other two could be used as a combom. The first of the two to be activated was the bionic blade; a foot long nano-carbon blade came out of her forearm. Roxanne raised it to meet her face and grinned; she then activated her second bionic, electroshock unit. As she did so, the blade was filled with visible and audible currents of static electricity; this made Roxanne’s grinned widen and become predatory.

   “You did a very swell job doctor. Only one more thing; how about you give me a life target to test this on?”, Roxanne commented while walking towards the doctor..

   “Oh? Life target? Sorry but there was no mention of such requirements of this procedures so we did not bother. We are sorry about the inconvenience.”, The doctor said.

   Roxanne was already within striking distance of the doctor, she paused and smiled. “No worries doctor, you will make a fine replacement!”, Roxanne exclaimed. She then jammed the knife straight into the doctor’s chest, piercing his heart; the electroshock unit then made him spasm as taser-esq electric currents were unleashed into his body. Roxanne’ smile grew wider as she dropped the limp body of the doctor on the floor. She then covers her ears and closed her eyes and waited the next part, smile still etched in her face.

   The armed men raise their rifles as quickly as they could. They shouldered the firearm and pulled the trigger; some were faster than others and as such only a few shots were fired. However, not all of the guns were trained at Roxanne, the faster to draw people among the guards shot down the other guards who were slower. They did so with precision and prejudice, as if they knew ahead of time that specific person needed to die. The bullets flew through the air and into the other men who never got to fire a single shot. The projectiles tore through muscle, tissue, bone and brain matter. All of it splattered all over the room as blood covered the shooters and Roxanne.

   Roxanne opened her eyes when the shooting had stopped and gave a little yelp and bit her lip as she witness the scene in front of her. These men were no more, reduced to mush and she was responsible for it. She now wielded the power of life and death and was tasked to use it on other people. She got to decide who lived and who died, she alone made the final judgment...Roxanne had never felt so alive!

   One of the men stepped forward and interrupted Roxanne’s little day dream. “Roxanne Blackmore?” The man called.

   “The one and only!”, Roxanne responded.

   “Welcome aboard Cleanser Blackmore. You are now ready to serve under our banner. Go home and await orders. We will take care of the scene here, so don’t worry about that. From this day forward, your new life begins! But for now...get changed...spare clothing are on the back room.”

   The man left and Roxanne was more elated than ever. This is it, she had found her purpose! She was no doing what was the best for humanity. She would get change, go home and get some rest...her new life would soon start.
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...

Chaosvolt

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Timeline: Six and a half months into the cataclysm, a day before the death of Hunter Roxanne Blackmore.

People involved: Helen, Darius, Toshiro, Alexandra.



"It is your right as Thane to know the nature of tomorrow's hunt. The enemy of old, the brethren-led-astray, one of their scouts and a sorcerer. No evidence of recent contact with the rest of their order, they are confirmed to be in possession of at least one artifact of grave historical importance to them.."

Within an abandoned cabin, a few miles from a city now inhabited by undead, a small flame of human life still lingered. Within the old building, a dozen and a half people reveled, enjoying food and strong drink laid out on a grand dining table, playing music that made the whole structure resonate with songs in Latin. The scene within was a rather peculiar group of men and women, many adorned with an eclectic mix of formal attire and medieval armor, some wearing cloaks covered in countless metal scales. Several wore masks of iron or bronze, decorated with other metals to mimic hair, though copper-on-iron was the most common form. For those that weren't wearing theirs, there were just as many masks laid in a neat row along a line of shelves.

In another room a young woman with light brown hair, wearing a bronze mask with silver decoration, conversed with a middle-aged man whose mask he kept laid on a nearby counter. His was unique among the collection of masks, deliberately styled after the somen a modern-day samurai might wear instead of the impassive visage of a Roman cavalry mask all the others resembled. "Defender Torshiro? I have the reports here." the woman said, handing him a set of maps and notes. "Just Brother Toshiro will suffice, Sister Alexandra. I've cast aside my old title years ago." he said softly, examining the notes. "Excellent. In one fell swoop, both our missions can be accomplished. I shall tell the others the news immediately."

Toshiro smiled a bit, stepping out into the main room to address the others, Alexandra close behind. "Tonight has been more fruitful than I'd ever hoped for. At last we have a lead on a dangerous enemy, and a party of our brethren joins us for this hunt." he said. Thus far he had only told Helen the true nature of the arcanists they were after, only the Founders and their children still knew about Shadows of Arcana. "Their own mission is now aligned with ours. They had been tracking down a cache of potentially dangerous artifacts hidden by a rogue arcanist we captured last month. It just so happens that the two we are after recently stumbled upon this cache. As both missions will now be accomplished in one action, we at last have a full hunting party."

Alexandra then spoke up "A full party, six each for assault element and support element. I will lead the support element. While Brother Toshiro will be a part of the assault element, he has requested another lead it. Thus, Thane Helen shall serve that role." With this, the others went back to their celebration, while a red-headed young woman led a darker-haired man to one of the nearby hallways. He had a youthful appearance and she seemed to act like an older sister as they conversed, but in truth he was about 4 years younger than her, and in the back of their minds they both struggled with conflicting emotions they had little experience with.

"Brother Darius. No, Acolyte Darius as of today. May you carry that title as proudly as your father did." the woman said, only for Darius to shake his head. "I still fear I won't live up to that, but. But, well. T-thank you Helen. You still carry the title of Thane far better than I can ever hope to carry mine." he said, Helen responding by setting a hand on his shoulder.

"You will live up to your father's memory, just as I have my father and mother. I swear it to Odin the All-Father and the God in Three Persons both." she answered, only to pull him into a hug. "Drink well, eat well, and sleep well. Tomorrow, you will fight by my side, prove you have earned your sword and title." she added, the thought lingering in his mind. The first actual sortie he's participated in.

Helen's thoughts were more conflicted. She had feelings of some sort for the Acolyte, and no idea about how to act on them. She decided they would talk about things after the mission, then she might have more courage to act on those feelings. At the same time, Brother Toshiro's words earlier had her worried. Brethren led astray. They would be a more dangerous, unpredictable foe than any blood mage. But must it come to this, when their divide was fading from the living memory of her order?

They must be brought to justice, made to understand why The Cleansing Flame acts the way it does, before they cause any further harm to the world and humanity itself...
« Last Edit: October 23, 2018, 09:48:30 pm by Chaosvolt »

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Time: Six years before the cataclysm

Characters: Drifter(Isaac), Doctor Morten, Clean up Crew, Experiment 402-XO7
______________________________________________________________________________

Morten sat across from the specimen as he moved a piece on the board. The specimen smiled as it moved it’s own piece while the cleanup crew scrambled to get their gear on. Isaac shouted for the men to move faster as he pushed out the door and into the specimen floor.

He didn’t think as he fired the first shot that tore a specimen in two and sent it to the floor. Morten moved another piece as the automated turrets opened fire on the specimens awaiting their victims in the hallways. The specimen in front of him merely shrugged as it’s compatriots fell to a hailstorm of gunfire before moving another piece. The rest of the clean up crew was hustling to catch up to Isaac as he slammed another shell into the chamber of his shotgun and fired.

Morten took another of the specimen’s pieces as he said “You know you won’t win. You just enjoy playing don’t you.”

The specimen nodded as it moved a piece and took one of his. At the same time a specimen crawled out from underneath some debris and took one of the clean up crew members to the ground before plunging a bladed hand into his skull. Another crew member fired a round into it’s spine as he ran past and towards the room.

Isaac fired another round into a specimen charging him before his weapon fell apart in his hands. Pulling the machete from his belt Isaac hefted the weapon and hacked the nearest specimen’s head off. As it stood to try and swing it’s clawed hand at him he swung the weapon down and into it’s skull. Jerking the weapon from its head he stood and saw the specimen awaiting ahead of him.

Morten leaned back after taking another piece and simply stared at the specimen. To him it was so interesting that one such as this had intelligence to rival his own. He made a decision as it moved another piece into place.

Isaac slammed the B series experiment into the wall and went to swing his machete at it before it grabbed his hand and took the weapon from him. Throwing him into a wall the bot walked towards him screaming unintelligibly. Sighing Isaac stood and side stepped as the other crew members unloaded into the bot. As it fell to its knees and dropped the machete Isaac picked the weapon back up and touched the blade to its head.

It looked up at him and for once one of them spoke actual english “End it. Kill me and end my suffering.”

Isaac complied with the request as he cut its head clean off and walked down the rest of the corridor to the room. His crew, well what was left of it, stacked up on the door and prepared to breach. Pulling out a flashbang he got ready to go in.

Morten meanwhile leaned forward and said “What’s the price you want to let me study you further? We both know you can force the issue and get them to kill you so name a price.”

The specimen smiled and whispered something to the doctor. He grinned as he stood up and opened the door. The crew rushed in as they’d been trained to do to protect the HVT. Which was when Morten spoke a single phrase and the men fell to their knees holding their ears. It was a few seconds later and the specimen stood over Isaac with a knife.

“This one will do doctor. His heart will be a pleasant meal don’t you think?” The specimen said as it carved the heart from Isaac’s body and walked to the table. Morten had already called a specialty crew to drag the dead and the unconscious from the room. He’d have to call some favors in to get the crew leader a new heart and brought back. No price too high for progress.

Chaosvolt

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Timeline: Various.

Characters involved: Helen, Helen's parents, Toshiro.



Quote
2. Cast aside your schisms and strife. It has ended countless groups, but it shall not end us. We are brothers and sisters, and we shall respect the gods in equal measure, disparate though they may be.

12 years before the cataclysm.

She remembered being just old enough to start combat training. 14th birthday, expected to join the fight in 3 years. Ensure she and others her age would be prepared for what they must do, by then.

There'd been an argument between her mother and father. Her father, Thane Thomas, was reluctant to explain the nature of one of the enemies that Helen might face in adulthood. He didn't want to be reminded of old friends that betrayed him, not long after their daughter was born.

Her mother, Thane Sophia, insisted on it. It was her right as the daughter of two founding members of The Cleansing Flame. She was the one who taught her those protective spells starting a year before her combat training began.

"They were brethren once. There was a great argument over a dangerous item they sought to use, even knowing the full nature of the item and its magic. Misguided, and I fear their actions have brought them self-destruction. I lost many close friends when we were driven apart..."

"If they are still around, you must be prepared for them, but I still hold hope that it needn't end in violence. They must be made to understand why we disagreed with their actions, and everything we have seen to reinforce our caution."

Quote
3. All powers from beyond, and all things worked from it, are a potential threat until clearly understood. Observe in any manner that is safe, but err on the side of caution first and foremost. If determining its nature cannot be done safely, destroy it if you must.

A few months later.

Defender Toshiro was there, along with Sophia. Within the past year, a few months since Helen began her combat training, there had been a break-in. One of their main sanctums, and a damned blood mage had dared to sneak in. This was an act they were usually too cowardly to attempt.

He was clearly not expecting a fight, intent on stealing or spying or whatever his objective was. But he'd found a mere teenager instead. It was either flee with his mission failed, or kill what he thought was easy prey caught alone, and possibly buy time to complete his objective. She wasn't.

Toshiro had examined the items on the sanguinist's body, and one item they found shocked both Defender and Thane. "The image of the goddess Venus, and other old symbols. Some motifs favored by Golden Wind and the Path of the Sun." he pointed out. Arabic inscriptions and the image of the storm god, respectively.

Sophia sighed a bit, before looking to Helen. "They still live, then. This sanguinist was likely sent here, either hired or as punishment for his sins. They were the same brothers and sisters who convened with us to fight the Sanguine Order, and this is what they resort to?" she said, raising her voice. "You shouldn't have to fight profligates like this so early. Go with Toshiro, and I will finish this investigation."

Quote
4. Suffer no cowardice, no petty bringandry, no lust for vengeance. We take from others only what is too dangerous to leave in their hands, and inflict no further depredation upon them unless they are a threat to humanity itself. If they are, be they blood mage or bandit, offer no mercy and expect none in return.

9 years before the cataclysm.

She remembered the funeral pyre. And who it was for. A protector of the faith, a skilled user of the rare defensive arts, a Thane who cast aside her old title, leaving only what all members of The Cleansing Flame called each other, Brother or Sister in her case. Her mother.

"She was sent because we found them. We found the gods-damned corruptors of the faith, and attempted diplomacy. She was chosen as the best candidate, and sent alone. They lured her into a trap, and left the corpse for us to find..." her father explained, tears running down his face. They weren't just tears of sorrow though, but of anger.

Brother Toshiro looked away. The day after the blood mage had been discovered, after they were awakened to the true fate of their former comrades, he had cast aside his old title of Defender. "No more attempts at peace, at explanation. They've wasted their one chance..."
« Last Edit: November 11, 2017, 05:23:38 pm by Chaosvolt »

RedVulnus

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Time: 5.7 years before the cataclysm
Characters: Experiment 402-XO7, Drifter(Isaac), Dr Morten
-----------------------------------------------------------

Isaac had been sitting in the rec room listening to the radio as an announcer relayed the results of a ballgame. He wasn’t aware of the two security officers that were following a captain down the hallway towards the room. Nor was he aware that Morten and the specimen were playing another match of chess and a piece had just been taken off the board.

Looking up as the door swung open Isaac saw the trio and nodded to them before walking towards the pool table. Grabbing a stick he saw the officer make a finger gun in one hand and point it at one of the unaware staff members. As he brought his thumb down one of the men with him fired a round into the man’s head as Isaac swung the pool cue into the head of the other. As the officer turned to try and fight him Isaac shoved the pool cue through his eye and pulled the gun off his belt.

Morten took a piece as Isaac killed the pair of security members. The others in the room paniced and rushed for the door as he retrieved a rifle and heard more gunshots in the hallways.  The specimen smiled as he took a piece and asked “Tell me, won’t they shut down your little facility here after this?”

Morten shook his head as he moved a piece into place and said “No. This portion of the facility is only filled with disposable personel and willing participants of the science staff.”

The creature nodded as it continued to play. Isaac meanwhile stepped into the hallway and started firing into the security members. As their bodies fell it took a few seconds for them to retarget towards him and open fire.

Long enough for him to find cover and eliminate the handful that had angles on him. Meanwhile the chess game continued. More pieces taken from the board until finally Morten won and quite a few bodies were left on the ground in the corridors. Isaac filed his report later that day and met with a pair of security guards. Standard medical procedure they told him as he lay on the table. Morten almost smiled as he watched the memories being wiped.

RedVulnus

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Time: 5.5 years before the cataclysm
Characters: Drifter(Isaac), Patches
_________________________________________________________
Isaac walked towards the barricade the clean up crew had setup and heard one of the men say “The son of War is here boys.”

Isaac smiled under his helmet at that. He’d heard some of the boys call him Tyr, or the son of Tyr or one of the other names Tyr had been given. He came to like the moniker of the ‘Son of War’ he realized as he fired a round past the barricade into one of the loose specimens.

Sliding over the barricade Isaac was followed by Patches his second in command. Firing another round he put a second specimen down as Patches tossed a fragmentation grenade through an open doorway. The blood curdling scream of a scientist locked in the room with a pair of specimens was cut short by the detonation.

This was followed by Patches swing his machete down through a table. As it fell to the ground the specimen inside bled out having been cut in half. Firing his pistol at another specimen Patches put it down. “Fuck you. Tired of this shit.”

Isaac nodded as he fired another round from his rifle before using the stock to smash an injured specimen’s skull in. Turning and pulling his machete he cut a second specimen in half. This was going to be a long day.

It was three hours later when Isaac and Patches walked through the doorway to the security checkpoint. The guards there looked like they were going to vomit when they saw the pair. Covered in blood and organs the two were a horrific sight to see. Depositing their weapons at the checkpoint Isaac laughed a bit as he saw one of the guards actually throw up into a trash can.

And yet again they were led away by a pair of security officers.

Chaosvolt

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Timeline: Six months before the cataclysm.

Characters: Nathaniel.



Nathaniel still felt a bit awkward in the leather jacket Hector had given him. Back in their regular unit he would've been out of uniform wearing it, but so long as he put the right patches on, in the correct manner, Division XIV didn't seem to care.

What was more relevant was the training and the mission. Right now it was the former that led to the vehicles of 2nd Company into a small town, securing positions at each major road in. New England charm aside, it reminded Nathaniel a bit of the town he grew up in down south, until he was about 13. One other difference was the Priority Site a couple miles out of city limits, and the infestation that came from it. The maps officially listed it as a water treatment plant, which explained a lot.

It was just their company of XIV Armored, and 3rd company of XV Medical. The place had maybe a few hundred people at most, and several now roamed the streets after succumbing to the undead plague. People higher up on the chain of command had already shut down local media and incorporated local police into the operation. It resembled a small-scale mimicry of an uncontrollable plague that would soon wrack the world, as Nathaniel would recall after the cataclysm started, but back then it was a trivial training exercise.

Nathaniel's tank crew was there maintaining a roadblock, watching a line of cars backed up before them. There were police officers and men in modified Army uniforms, all forced to wear gas masks, ordering people out of the vehicles for examination. One car at a time. "3b. Move your vehicle to the lot on the left and enter the medical tent. You'll be fine within a few days." said a woman with a Division XV patch, addressing an old man in a worn-out pickup.

The next was a family. A man, a woman, a sickly-looking young boy. The soldiers there took a few blood samples to run test strips on, examining their eyes, ears, nose, and throat as well, checking pulse. The man and woman were told to continue on due to having minimal infection, but the young boy was directed to a tent on their right.

Nathaniel gave a sigh at that, he could see the way the man reacted when the family was asked to separate. He also knew what the second medical tent was for, for any victims triaged as 5a or 5b. The resulting shouting match between the couple and the woman, who he knew as Sergeant Anderson, was getting everyone riled up.

It was when a man in the next car back stepped out, holding a pistol, that all hell broke loose. The M2 Nathaniel was operating gave a resounding boom as it cut the man down, followed by point-blank gunfire from the sergeant raking the couple up front when the husband had tried to push past them. In an instant people were getting out of their cars and scrambling in a panic, one vehicle pulling away and running someone over in an attempt to rush at the checkpoint. The main gun reduced it to a burning pile of scrap a split-second later.

Their sector of the town was soon in chaos, and Nathaniel felt nothing as he acted according to his orders. Any disruptions to triage will be assumed post-critical and dealt with accordingly. He simply hoped that the other checkpoints were having less trouble, but distant gunfire hinted at others having problems of their own.

Worse, fires were spreading through several of the residential blocks. The advanced troop carriers were sent in to assist in managing evacuation, maintaining quarantine, and dealing with the casualties that had already succumbed and stood back up. The obstinate reason for the checkpoints, given Nathaniel's crew had already put down a good dozen or two undead that strayed too close to the evacuation queue, using the driver's mounted M240 and the commander's M2.

The fires were thanks to the soldiers in full MOPP gear, wearing Division XV patches, each squad having a man toting a flamethrower. Shoot the undead, then burn the remains, and any signs of civilians holed up in their homes rather than cooperating followed suit.

Despite the chaos, at the end of the day they hadn't lost a single person, only one or two members of the medical company treated for minor bites and scratches, one checkpoint guard that suffered bruises from a rioter's rifle rounds being caught by his ballistic vest. It would be easily covered up, and of the 700 people in the tiny little town, over 200 had been evacuated or treated successfully.

Nathaniel would later find his friend Hector's checkpoint had been one of the only ones that operated without any problems, which led to a good bit of irritated remarks about the earlier gift of a so-called lucky jacket...
« Last Edit: November 11, 2017, 05:35:04 pm by Chaosvolt »

RedVulnus

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Time: 3 years before the cataclysm
Characters: Bandit, Drifter, SIDEWAYS AK MAN
__________________________________________________________________________

Bandit sighed as he measured the last bag. This little deal had taken far too much of his time at this point and he was going to be happy to be back in his lab. Tossing the bag to the man sitting across the table he simply told him that it was the last of the shipment.

Nodding the man opened his mouth to say something when a bullet found its way through his skull. Bandit grabbed the bag of money as the chaos began and bolted for the back door. Running out he found his way to a car.

As he did so he saw a man that caught his attention for a second. Firstly the man was wearing golden boxers, not gold colored, gold plated boxers. The second was that he was holding his AK sideways while he fired. The sheer stupidity of it made him blink before realizing there was still a crazy guy shooting at them.

Getting in the nearest car Bandit made his escape as Drifter tore through the place like a demon. Men fell to the ground dead as he tried to stop the car. Realizing this was a lost cause he decided to finish mopping up and then head out.

Some hours later the man in the golden boxers woke up to find himself on a couch. Something was poking him in the ass. Reaching back he pulled a bullet out of his boxers and stared. Forever would he wear these boxers and shoot sideways.

RedVulnus

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Time: 2 years after the cataclysm
Characters: Alexei
____________________________________________

Alexei was doing what he always did at this point, walking. Smoking a cigarette he saw an old establishment up ahead and figured he could find something to drink. Pushing through the door he started for the bottles lined up on the shelves of the old bar. No one else was here so he should be able to look in peace.

A few bottles of a couple different kinds of alcohol were found before he felt a barrel of a gun pressed against his back. The irish accent of the man was so strong Alexei rolled his eyes “Get up and tell me why I shouldn’t kill you.”

Alexei stood up as he said “You like make car bombs?”

The man cursed Alexei as he grabbed his arm and swung him around to swing his pistol int-

He never got a chance to hit Alexei as the Obrez blew a hole through his chest. The others that had followed the man in shouted and started shooting as Alexei ducked behind the bar and holsted the Obrez to pull out his AK. Holding the weapon sideways he stood up and opened fire.

The firefight was short lived as he put them down with accurate fire. Once the last body fell he lowered his weapon and sighed. “Why do you always try and kill me!” He yelled at the body in front of him as he kicked the dead Irishman’s face.

Stopping himself after a couple of seconds he retrieved the bottle of whiskey and sighed. Opening it and pouring some into a whiskey glass he shook his head. Sipping the whiskey he looked at the carnage. Ten dead men. Ten rounds from his AK. How quickly lives ended. Downing the rest of the alcohol in the glass Alexei set the glass down and walked around the bar. Taking the bottle as he walked out he poured some of it out on the ground before marking next to the door with a piece of chalk.

Walking away he put the now closed bottle in his bag and sang a song he’d heard his brother sing one time when he’d gotten back from the military. Reloading his weapons he saw the glowing eyes peering out of the darkness and looked up to see the sun beginning to set.

“Lord guide my hand, oh hear your wayward son.” He sang before turning to open fire as the ghost town was consumed by the dark night.

“Won’t you hear this son far from his homeland.”

Chaosvolt

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Timeline: 7 years after the cataclysm, detailing events dating back earlier.

Characters involved: Captain Anguiano.



Following is a summary of files sent to Refugee Center US77687 (Site 4 Designation: Center Sierra).

Defense Initiative Site 4. Designation: Vault Delta.

Purpose: Site 4's primary purpose is self-contained, long-term command-and-control of local strategic assets and direction of military operations within the region. This purpose is incomplete, as Site 4 was still in the development and testing phase. Communications equipment to contact local assets had been installed, but full command and control systems were not made available.

Objectives:
1. Site 4 is to maintain a fortified position in the region to supplement all nearby military operations.
2. When development and testing is complete, Site 4 will function as C&C for all assets within the New England region, including nuclear defenses.
3. CLASSIFIED (overridden by Cpt. Anguiano, 3-IV): In the interim, one anomalous materials department has been assigned to Site 4, researching a number of items brought over from other Y-series sites.

Facility Summary:
Level 1: Surface level. A facade of a small town has been constructed above for concealment purposes, and to provide supplementary housing for civilian contractors, along with other peacetime amenities. Surface is to be evacuated the instant strategic assets are initialized, if a state of war is declared, or if a nuclear first strike targeting the United States is detected.
Level 0: Access level. A functional sewer with integral water-treatment system, with concealed access to Site 4 itself. In addition to personnel entrances, access for vehicles and construction materials is available via a secondary entrance, capable of being collapsed via buried explosives in the event of enemy invasion.
Sublevel 1: Main sublevel with amenities for both personnel and civilian contractors, including education and medical facilities for their families to live on-site, and a "visitor center" primarily used for orientation of new civilian arrivals. Notable sectors include a Security section that doubles as an on-site Military Police station, Communications including monitoring systems, and Control. Control is intended to facilitate Site 4's planned C&C role, but currently houses the engineering department's Damage Control personnel.
Sublevel 2: Secondary civilian housing and other amenities. Some were incomplete in construction as of this time, and not presently at acceptable standards of living. Secondary Engineering sectors are here, in addition to Robotics.
Sublevel 3 CLASSIFIED (overridden by Cpt. Anguiano, 3-IV): Reactors, main Engineering department, and Data Management. Additionally, Research has been assigned a sector on this sublevel.

Personnel Summary:
1. One company from Army Corps of Engineers, unit information classified at request of Captain Anguino.
2. One company of United States Marine Corp (unit information classified at request of Captain Anguino), including Military Police and attached United States Navy Hospital Corpsmen.
3. Various civilian contractors hired to assist in construction and maintenance, estimated number 1075 civilians, both contractors and their families.
4. CLASSIFIED (overridden by Cpt. Anguiano, 3-IV): 3rd company, Special Projects Division IV (Nuclear Operations).
5. CLASSIFIED (overridden by Cpt. Anguiano, 3-IV): Research Department Y-241, anomalous materials series. Estimated 200 personnel.

Note: "Yeah no, I'm not incriminating the others with this shit. If word of what we're up to gets out, 3rd company is taking the blame." - Captain Anguiano



Number of assigned personnel (including civilian contractors and families): 1435.
Number of active personnel on record: 8.

Commissioned Officers:
1. Catalina Anguiano. Captain (OF-2). Female. 3rd Company, Special Projects Division IV.

Non-commissioned Officers:
1. Nell Branham. Sergeant (E-5). Female. USMC. Unit data classified.
2. Alberto Vela. Corporal (E-4). Male. USMC. Unit data classified.

Enlisted Personnel:
1. Leila Carnes. Specialist (E-4). Female. USACE. Unit data classified.
2. "Dusk" Gao. Hospital Corpsman Third Class (E-4). Male. USN. Given name classified. Unit data classified.
3. "Atomos". Private First Class (E-2). Female. USMC. XV Classification: 3a. Full name classified. Unit data classified.
4. Larion. Private First Class (E-2). Male. 3rd Company, Special Projects Division IV. Surname classified.
5. Mardell Baumgarther. Private (E-1). Female. USACE. Unit data classified.

Note: "Had the corpsmans' first names taken off-record because navy was really fucking pissy about any of their boys being linked to SPD shit. Last names for any 3-IV enlisted or NCOs are off-record for obvious reasons. And finally, Atomos is off-record at her request." - Captain Anguiano



Log 031548-1:

"Getting increasing amounts of chatter this evening, Major Thomasson has been on edge all day over more incident reports, evidence that the topside fuckers are going to be mobilized soon. That's on top of a lot of bickering and saber-rattling between Mr. President and his Chinese equivalent. The way those two are going at it has the civilian contractors on edge, but the Major figures that the imminent mobilization orders are just a convenient excuse to initiate Operation Antibody discreetly. Nice to hear that threatening to start WWIII is the cover story. Here's hoping when the PRC realizes those launches are landing on our side instead of theirs, they'll figure out something's gone sideways."

Log 031648-1:

"At around 8:17 this morning, radio chatter went completely batshit. Confirmed x-rays in almost every city we're getting reports from, topside SPDs are being mobilized for Operation Antibody. All personnel have been ordered to get down below, screened and triaged according to XV Directives. Around 50 civilians are 1b and currently being treated in the medbay, no one's terminal."

Log 031648-2:

"It's been about 2 and a half hours. No more chatter is coming from Divisions XI-XV. Every X-series lab we got contact with was compromised, XII did a shit job as usual. XIII was the real MVP it seems, they can't program unmanned defenses worth shit. For added fun, the only Z-series lab we could get in contact with consisted of one asshole ranting about something called 'Apophis' before the radio went dead an hour into this clusterfuck. Center Sierra was made ready and filled with people in preparation for XV to arrive and triage, but seems their assigned companies of XIV and XV never made it."

Log 031748-1:

"Topside monitoring is showing signs of rogue x-rays poking around in the abandoned Surface sectors. I'm ordering the charges blown to collapse Vehicle Access, so only way any shamblers are getting in is through personnel entrances. Good fucking luck, assholes."

Log 031748-2:

"Welp. We're fucked now. Holy fucking shit. Reactor 1 went prompt-critical about an hour ago, we've lost all security feed for sublevels 2 and 3, along with half our sensors for Surface and Access. We're in Security, most of the other survivors are in Damage Control. Army and Marine boys down there are working overtime to stabilize whats left of Reactor section remotely. God. Everywhere except our two sectors ate so much radiation that all other personnel are dead or dying and it's only been a fucking hour. The Major and about half of 3-IV were down there in sublevel 3. There's maybe 200 of us total left in our two sections."

Log 031948-1:

"Full day of work but Control has mostly sealed off all access to sublevel 3, radiation levels might take a year to die down though. We got other problems. They're getting back up. I don't know how the fuck they're doing that. All the civilians that were 1b had been treated and were cleared for duty by the time the reactor blew, and even then 1b is below the threshold where casualties are at risk of becoming x-rays. 2b's when it becomes a risk."

Log 031948-2:

"We need to get the group from Control into Communications. Get word out to any survivors that we've got over 1000 radioactive shamblers down here and they're threatening to pop the hatch to Access level. We've put on full MOPP and initialized what I've unofficially titled Operation Move Our Fat Asses."

Log 032048-1:

"Good news is we've retaken Communications. Bad news is we've lost three-quarters of our men, between IV, the marines, and the engineer boys. Got a headcount of 34 here and 22 in Communications now. Worse news is they're saying the goddamn transmitters were fucked. Receiver still works, we're getting intermittent chatter including from Center Sierra, and we've got access to the old personnel network."

Log 032748-1:

"I've lost half the surviving men to radiation poisoning by now, mostly in Communications. They're working 24/7 to decontaminate their sector. It was a fucking moot point since outgoing comms aren't an option. We're gonna lose the rest of our group if we try to find a parts kit for them. Good news is both sectors have assloads of supplies. We could sit around eating MREs and civilian stockpiles for about 30 years, if we don't all kill each other before then."

Log 031749-1:

"Yay, happy one-year anniversary of the fuckfest that trapped us in this hellhole. We're down about another dozen people altogether. Longer-term symptoms of our little jaunt out of the hardened area. We've also had signs of radiogenesis-based mutations. I've long since given up on the standing order to put down any that go 5a, because fuck that noise. Besides, only mutant right now is PFC Atomos and she's only 3a."

Log 062250-1:

"Picking up seismic activity and other weird shit going on over comms. On top of all that, comms picked up the activation of a nearby supply bunker, then a few minutes later we stopped getting logs from it. What the fuck is going on up there?"

Log 121352-1:

"We've had a few mutations and casualties over the years since, and nothing really to report in the logs. Today we got something. Yesterday the remaining half-dozen men and women of my company had an argument about the old procedures. A one PFC Matthias, USACE, had been suffering from radiogenic mutations over the course of the past year. Roughly a week ago his condition exceeded the threshold for classification as 5a. Within an hour after the discussion Matthias, presumably having overheard it, took matters into his own hands and shot himself in the head. Following this, I've clarified to everyone else remaining: the old medical directives can go fuck themselves for all I care. We're all stuck in this together, we aren't going to blow another guy's brains out just because he drew the short straw in the 'radioactive hellhole lottery' or whatever."

Log 072653-1:

"Down to maybe 24 people total as of this log. PFC Larion and I are the only members of 3-IV left down here. Recently picked up something unusual on the network logs, one of the nuclear launch sites reported one tactical missile was armed and sent off. Without the setup this place was planned to have built into it, we can't get uplink with it to determine who, or what, authorized it. Nor what its target was set to. All we can confirm is that it was a on-site activation. Don't think the old silos even had their half of the C&C network finished anyway, so probably the only way anyone would get those running. Still, worrisome to know someone was able to break into one of those and set up a launch."

Log 030454-1:

"After all this time there's maybe the first sign I've seen that confirms someone is out there and in our area. Two intruders were observed on our internal security systems, having broken into the old Personnel Access entrance. One seems to be a woman carrying a number of artifacts, some of it looks like what the old Research Directive had stashed down in sublevel 3. Other's an aug just tearing up the X-rays with his bare hands. They made some headway before attracting so much attention the shamblers forced them into retreat. Fuck."

Log 030454-2:

"At this point we're down to 8 people in total, including myself. Radiation levels have stabilized enough that no more casualties are expected, and supplies will likely last longer than we will now. If we get another intrusion and it seems like they have better luck, we're going to risk sending someone out of the secured areas to try and get in contact with them."

Log 062054-1:

"Two more people picked up on security feed today. One's in a knight outfit, description consistent with a civilian contractor Center Sierra's transmissions have mentioned on occasion. The other's a 5a mutant, suspected chimeric and arachnid subtypes. Possibly one that the center's referred to as Mica. Half the time the latter's only showing up on the thermal cams that are still working, but both of them are cleaning house. Gonna assign Sargent Branham and Corporal Vela to the task of linking up with them."
« Last Edit: March 21, 2018, 02:13:31 pm by Chaosvolt »

RedVulnus

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Characters: Drifter
Location: Somewhere in Texas
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He’d been walking with the caravan for some time now. He hadn’t kept track of how long, it didn’t matter to him in the end. As they turned the corner he readied his rifle knowing the reason he’d come with the caravan would come over that nearby hill. Sure enough he heard the motors before he saw the bikes.

The quartet of motorcycles jumped over the hill and barreled towards the first of the armored box trucks. Taking careful aim Drifter traced one as he neared. The resulting explosion of his first shot took two of them off their motorcycles and the remainder pulled away in a wide arc to come up behind the trucks. Drifter fired a few more rounds before the armored school bus pulled up behind the bikers. “Hand me that big thing right there.

The mounted gun on the bus opened fire as the driver swerved and the man inside the armored truck handed the machine gun up to Drifter. A round found its way through Drifter’s jacket as he pulled the trigger and sprayed the bus with automatic fire. A round pinged off his helmet before the gunners ducked back into the bus and the driver pulled off the road as the bikers sped up beside the armored truck. Pulling out his pistol Drifter shot the molotov one of them had lit and watched as the two fell from their bikes screaming.

I think that’s the last of them. Let’s get where you boys need to go.

It was a few days later the caravan stopped in a small town and delivered supplies. One of the caravan heads approached and said “You should come work us. We can always use a good gunman.”

Drifter shook his head as he said “I was coming along to kill the leaders of the Wolves. With those four bikers dead they’ll eat themselves alive.

The caravan head nodded and tossed Drifter a canteen as he said “Well if you need help with anything just give us a call and we’ll come. We owe you.”

Drifter shook his head again as he started walking away “You don’t owe me anything.

guest48

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Timeline: Four months before the Cataclysm

People involved: Carol 'Kathrine' Faye, Claudia 'Susan' Archer



Kathrine checked the graffiti her and Susan had drawn over their dividing walls.  She couldn't read anything Susan wrote down, of course, but the stickfigure pictures she drew while writing were fun to look at.  The bee-girl's art was still good enough to get her messages through, though.   Kathrine had gathered that the sad faces meant that Doctor Ilyushin had skipped another session.  Kathrine looked around the square of drawings they'd made and tried to find a spot to wipe down with her sleeve.  She settled on her old drawing of what Susan had looked like originally.  Before the wings and arms and eyes.   Kathrine peered through the space left behind, sticking her tongue out.

Susan's antennae drooped, along with her wings.  The bee-girl brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped all four arms around them, dropping her head to rest against her knees.  Kathrine crawled up to press her face against the plexiglass wall, looking worried.  Susan was always so happy, but she didn't look happy right now...  Kathrine tapped on the wall, and when that didn't elicit a response, she started repeating Susan's name.  Kathrine's ears began to drop when even that didn't get a response.  So instead, Kathrine grabbed a marker.

Kathrine still needed to get Susan's attention.  It'd been four hours since she'd last seen someone walk past, so she'd had a lot of time to draw.  Tapping hadn't worked to get her attention, so maybe...  She placed the sharpie on the floor and took a couple of steps back, drawing her arm back as if winding up for a punch.  Kathrine ran forward, and then threw her entire body into the plexiglass barrier, leading with her fist, and was rewarded with an echoing 'THUNK'.
Kathrine's wrist was definitely broken, but Susan had looked up.   The sight immediately cheered her up.  Kathrine had drawn a full-sized copy of the original picture of her in the empty space they used for charades.  It looked off, like someone's bad tracing, but the affection was there.  Susan scooted up to the wall, placing her top two hands on either side of their first ever message.

Kathrine spent a moment just looking into Susan's fake eyes.  Originally her compound eyes had freaked her out, what with being unable to see where she was looking, and the fact they were constantly pitch black, but she'd grown to like them.  From what she could guess, Susan couldn't even see out of them.   The bee-girl's antennae were twitching while her face was pressed against the glass, waiting for Kathrine to join in on the mirror kiss.  Kathrine, obviously, obliged.

 

NOCTIFER IS A FAGGOT