This Post is to Contain All Contributions I Add in The FUTURE!
Mutants
Upyrs
Sometimes, it's not the bomb that gets you, even if it's a head-on blast. No, sometimes it's a lot worse than that. So, take Russia, yeah? Russians were crazy paranoid. Shelters, failsafes, bunkers, the whole shazzam, buncha paranoid bastards thinkin' they were clever 'cause they knew the world was gonna end. Well, upyrs are testaments to how that went for 'em.
So, the bombs went off, places got nuked, blah blah blah, you've heard this part. Now, a whole buncha Russians, they thought they were clever. They thought they were gonna wait this whole apocalypse thing out, wait until it all blows over and the tsar comes to save them or some shit. Well, they huddled up in their little shelters of stacked cement and hard work and false hopes, and they waited. They waited a long, long time. Had kids in those bunkers, and those kids had kids. Well, in the loosest sense.
Because, as it turns out, there was something seeping into those bunkers. Nobody's sure what, but it sure as hell wasn't sunshine and Mountain Dew. Radiation, anomalous matter of some sort, some kinda Soviet experiment, who knows? Anyways, whatever it was, it did some bad things to those people, and it shows in their offspring.
Upyrs (Roughly the Ukrainian equivalent of a vampire in folklore) are the mutated offspring of those in Eastern Europe who took shelter in bunkers and underground vaults after the bombings. They're disgusting, barely-human monstrosities, towering above the average person, with leathery skin and viscous slime coating their bodies. Upyrs' hands are webbed, with menacing, retractable claws capable of extending two inches outwards. Their mouths have evolved to assist them in their favorite pastime: draining blood. Clawed mouthparts, extending in either direction like miniature arms, 'hug' the throats of subdued victims, allowing the hollow tongue of the upyr to pierce their jugular and lap up their lifeblood as fast as it can flow.
Dream Beast
People used to say that the Bogeyman didn't exist, that the hands outside the window were just tree branches, that the breathing behind the door was really just the air conditioning. Well, there's no air conditioning or living trees to explain it all away now, because the Bogeyman does exist, and he's not just haunting kids anymore.
Dream Beasts are the remnants of failed psychic experiments by American and Soviet intelligence agencies. Foreigners and vagabonds, dragged off the streets and experimented on in underground laboratories, they've lost all sense of humanity, and have no intentions to get it back. A Dream Beast, thanks to the ungodly experiments inflicted upon it, has the ability to warp the senses of creatures around it, partly due to hallucinogenic pheromones released into the air, partly, some say, to the scientists successfully instilling psychic abilities into the creatures.
These monsters, hateful of all humans now, take great delight in tormenting wanderers with their powers. They were given their name due to their ability to turn the world into a 'waking nightmare.' The landscape shifts to an even more hellish wasteland, dark, devilish creatures lurk around every corner, and your closest friends seem to be nothing but impish tricksters and unholy abominations. And through it all, a well-dressed man in a brown leather cap watches from afar, cackling madly at your foolishness.
Through sheer willpower, one may cast off the 'nightmare state' a Dream Beast casts over you. Once this is accomplished, one must only deal with the creature before it can make its escape. While always appearing as a stereotypical ragged Bogeyman in the visions, in reality, Dream Beasts are hunchbacked monstrosities, vaguely humanoid in shape, coated head to toe in ulcers and tumorous growths. Take no pity on these foul beasts, just swiftly put an end to them before more survivors are driven mad by their machinations.
Factions & Groups
Doc E's Pharmaceuticals
Nobody really knows who Doc E is. There's speculation here and there, there's people who try and find out but simply can't follow the complex spiderweb of drug dens and stoner informants, then, the most common type, there's people who really don't care who the fuck's making their hard drugs. All anyone really knows is that once in a while, packed in the back of random middle-of-nowhere caravans, are large cases labeled, obviously enough, 'Doc E's Pharmaceuticals.'
Whoever he is, he must be a popular guy. Caravans are popping up all over the place, manned by wide-eyed traders stoned outta their noggins and guarded by blank-faced guards hopped up on nerve-killing opiates. Colorful trains of pack animals bear pills, liquor, syringes, pipes, hookahs, and any other drug paraphernalia that exists, carting their sick wares about to village after village, spreading happiness and accidental death like it's candy.
The traders don't know who they're working for, and the guards might as well be mute. All they'll say is they've got a message for anyone who's curious about what they're doing and why they're doing it:
"This world is fucked. This whole planet is just fucked. We're fucked, you're fucked, your children are fucked, your dog is fucked, and there's probably no escaping what's coming, whatever it is. That's why Doc E is tirelessly working for you, America. Because Doc E loves ya, and he knows better than anyone else that life can get rough. So when it does, forget your troubles, forget your cares! Pop a pill, snort a bump, take a shot, or huff some gas and boom, you're right as rain! We don't have a lotta time left on this fucked world, so come on, live a little. Can't kill ya."
Items (Mostly Chems)
Gilgamesh
A powerful fast-acting psychoactive steroid, Gilgamesh was being developed as a top-secret 'edge' for American soldiers, before it was deemed too harmful to their health. Normally mixed into a solution and drunk from a small bottle, it stimulates reflexes, increases adrenaline production, and induces feelings of heroic grandeur. Those on it feel 'invincible,' and will haphazardly leap into battle, ignoring wounds and striking crushing blows before the eventual comedown, which is highlighted by extreme fatigue. Gilgamesh is highly addictive, and overdose is lethal.
Bushwhack
A more recent addition in drug culture, Bushwhack is a nerve-steeling drug popular with tribal warriors before battle. Synthesized from mutated descendants of various Pre-War plants, it's most commonly smoked in pipes, or any other viable container on hand, steadying hands, sharpening perception, and instilling a sense of calm in the user. In battle, aim is better, panic is less likely, and tactics are decisively thought out in the blink of an eye. Bushwhack isn't physically addictive, but those who use it often are often unwilling to go into combat without it.
Cujo
One of the few drugs directed at a new species, 'Cujo' is the street name for a synthesized cocktail of stimulants and psychoactive chemicals created to affect Lycans. While the name implies canines, any mammalian Lycan is affected by the drug. Cujo is normally taken by injection, marketed by Doc E's cronies in small metal vials. Lycans on Cujo temporarily lose most of their humanity, their baser instincts taking over and all morals swept to the wind. They fight like the animals they resemble, giving them a significant edge in combat over normal humans. Frequent users find the sensation of being an animal addictive, spelling trouble for their sanity.
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