Utterly Mad
The Pit => Rec Room => Topic started by: Wheel-Son on December 15, 2015, 09:01:58 pm
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A rough looking old man looks toward the group and says in a thick, unditerminable, accent, "Izzis the whole group? Anyone else coming? Alright, we're gonna be headin' to the London Eye today. T'ere's been reports of survivors near there. Everyone got their gear? Cuz we're not headin' back for a few days. We've got food and water to handle us and extra survivors for two weeks, a flare gun, spare signal flares, ammo, blankets oil lamp, oil cooker, oil, first aid kit, back up gasoline for the boat, and cooking utensils." he gestures for you to follow. Inside the old evacuation boat is 2 bunk beds, enough for 4 people, a steamer trunk, the pilot's station, along with a table and chairs along with a sofa bolted to the floor on the front left corner. "Folks call me Captain." he claps his hands together and says, "Alright! Let's go." Captain sits down on the captains chair on starts up the boat, ready to head to the London Eye
Boat:
2 weeks of food (mostly canned goods and wastebread)
2 weeks of water (Plain water mostly)
[|||||] Gasoline
[|||||] Health
75 rounds of ammo
A map with the London eye marked
A full first aid kit 4/4 uses left
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Atryom boards the vessel lighting up a cigarette. "I don't know boss, do you think we have enough oil for this little venture out, uhh..." he turns on his heels, scanning the murky 'rivers' that once were the streets of London. "East I'm guessing. I can't see the damn thing. Maybe I'm finally going blind." He walks over to the couch, tossing down his bag on the lumpy cushions before following the captain into the bridge. Puffing on his cigarette he leans on the railings near the bridge window, the skies were as grey and depressing as ever. What a great day to go sailing.
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"Yo, guys, if I see any of those sick fucks, I'm shooting, kay?" asks Lewis.
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Creighton lumbers after the group, the links on his ruined restraints noisily clanging against each other, his little coach gun slung across his chest in a leather holster, and his mace tucked into the heavy firefighter's belt around his waist. He grunts here and there in acknowledgement of the others speaking, not putting forth his own opinions. He could talk, but seems to prefer silence. Didn't seem like he was much for conversation, at least.
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"Yo, guys, if I see any of those sick fucks, I'm shooting, kay?" asks Lewis.
Captain raises an eye, "Hope ya don't mean normal people mate." he says. The boat goes forth, to the London eye. Not much happens before you notice a... Swan boat? You hear a male french accent, it says. "Ah! Fellow Humans, I- I could use some assistance!" Captain halts to boat to a stop before asking, "I say we help 'em, we ARE here to look for survivors after all." the man pipes up again, "Could you hurry up a bit! I'm bleeding quite a bit here! If you help me I got some goods that I'll let you have!"
Boat:
2 weeks of food (mostly canned goods and wastebread)
2 weeks of water (Plain water mostly)
[||||/] Gasoline
[|||||] Health
75 rounds of ammo
A map with the London eye marked
A full first aid kit 4/4 uses left
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Let's get this dude on the boat. Captain, we have place for him?