1. Love to Write
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    Love to Write I'm a lover of writing. What else is to be said? Contributor

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    Asili Reborn

    Discussion in 'Archive' started by Love to Write, Jun 30, 2012.

    ASILI- A New Beginning

    It is the year 2052, on the planet Earth. There were once 5 great nations. America, New Asia, Russia, Japan and India. These nations once lived in peace, but because of greed and distrust, they went to war with one another and after a single year of horrible bombings, there was very little left on any continent. Barely 10,000 people out of 7 billion survived this massacre. Those who have survived scrounge what they can from the ruins. Where there was once Hope of a brighter future, despair thrives instead. Much of the land, that was once fertile and green, isn’t much more than a desert now, with scattered plants, dead forests, and the ruins of once great cities.

    However, scattered across the continents are oasis where life still manages to survive, but just barely. Rumors have spread of a large strip of land, the size of a state once known as Florida, that has been completely untouched by the bombings. It has been named Asili, meaning New Beginning. The most common belief is that it is located somewhere between America’s states of Maine and New York.

    Large groups of people have begun to gather in caravans and brave the dangers released by the bombings; mutated creatures, invisible mires, poisonous plants, murderous scavengers and more, in order to get to this rumored safe haven. Where once there was naught but despair, Hope is once again beginning to blossum. Perhaps there is still a place where humanity could survive and rebuild; if they survive the journey.

    GAME RULES: This is Asili 2.0.
    It has been 6 months since the bombings And 1 week after Colonel Garter's team found insulin. You are one of the people who have managed to survive the massacre.
    Two caravans have just met at the point of Lake Michigan.
    Your points of entry are: A) You are already a member of either Colonel Garter's or Jaxo's caravan.
    B) You have left a former caravan and have found your way to ones at the point of Lake Michigan
    C) You have some how managed to survive on your own this whole time and have stumbled on the caravan.

    As a survivor of the bombings the only equipment you would have is what was on you at the time and what you have managed scavenge and carry with you for the past 6 months. This could also include a vehicle IF it runs on a fuel that you can easily find. IE: Solar powered. Keep in mind this game takes place approximately 40 years in the future so feel free to introduce new technology (after you run it by me). Also this is a non-alien game. 40 years in the future we still haven’t found intelligent life on other planets or been visited…according to this game. This doesn’t mean you can’t have a character who is convinced the bombings were caused by aliens.

    The most important rule is to use your imagination and have fun. I will throw obstacles and criminals and dangerous mutant creatures at you to keep it the story interesting and flowing. Feel free to throw an obstacle out there yourself; after you run it by me. The rules are simple, the game is challenging and the journey is dangerous and wrought with hardship. Will you survive?

    Character Sheet: Please post this in the Discussion Thread after you get it approved by me.

    Name:

    Gender:

    Age:

    Appearance:

    Personality:

    Profession:

    Supplies:


    RPG RULES
    -------------------------
    1) Write the next part of the story.
    2) No controlling other characters! This means not moving another player, writing their response or writing another character’s actions without SPECIFIC PREMISSION from the other player.
    3) Post your Character Template in the Discussion Forum after being approved by me.
    4) Try to keep all your posts from being too long or too short.
    5) All posts must progress the storyline.
    6) Read all posts (or the last post well enough to keep the story flowing without plot holes.)
    7) No killing off other characters.
    8) Those that leave are welcome to come back, but you need to inform me if you are going to be away for more than a day.
    9) FLAMING, INSULTING, OR ANY OTHER TYPE OF HARSHNESS THAT IS DELIBERATELY USED TO HURT SOMEONE ELSE’S FEELINGS WILL NOT BE TOLERATED AT ALL, NOR ACCEPTED ANYWHERE ELSE AROUND THE FORUM.
    10) Edit before posting.
    11) NO GOD-MODING.
    12) Do not control other characters unless given consent.
    13) Discuss issues in Discussion Thread aka keep all Out of Character posts out of the game itself.
    19) Game master’s word is law. I will do my best to keep the story fun and on track but that can’t happen if people create their own main storylines. I would, however, appreciate side-story line ideas to help progress the game.
    20) HAVE FUN!
     
  2. losthawken
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    losthawken Author J. Aurel Guay Role Play Moderator Contributor

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    Approved... Again... ;)
     
  3. Love to Write
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    Love to Write I'm a lover of writing. What else is to be said? Contributor

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    Colonel Matt Garter

    Twenty-eight people. That’s how many Matt had counted after everyone had settled down for the evening. Two hours ago his caravan had run into another caravan run by a man named Jaxo. And together, the two caravan’s came to a grand total of twenty-eight people. He had two men as his “disciplinary enforcers.” Even though Jaxo hadn’t come right out and said it, he could tell by the way Jaxo’s caravan acted around him, that this man was no-good scum.

    He walked through the camp checking on each member of the caravan. His or not. The people were scared, tired. It had taken longer than expected to reach the oasis because of the radiation sickness that had struck several of the caravan. Even with the insulin they had obtained a week earlier, 3 had died. The stronger ones survived but were still weak and in danger of catching a sickness.

    A rough and heavy hand landed on his shoulder. It took all the discipline Matt had, not to grab the hand and break its thumb. He turned slowly to face the leader of the other caravan, Jaxo. He had a sly smile on his face.
    “Hey, Garter. It seems our two caravans are already becoming friends.” Jaxo said.
    “Yes it would seem that way.”
    Jaxo threw an arm over Matt’s shoulders much to his chagrin.
    “You know. These people trust us. I suggest we group up and work together to get to Asili.” Jaxo punched Matt softly in the chest. That was the last straw. Matt gave Jaxo a hard push with his elbow, but then looked straight ahead as if nothing had happened.
    “I agree. Bringing our two caravans together would be the best option. Now, if you’ll excuse me; I have people to check on.” With that he turned and resumed his rounds.
     
  4. Love to Write
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    Love to Write I'm a lover of writing. What else is to be said? Contributor

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    Jaxo Ventoriz

    Jaxo held a hand to his bruised rib. Damn, that guy can pack a punch. Mental note to never personally get into a fist fight with him.
    He turned in the opposite direction and grabbed one of his goons, Brutus, by the shoulder. “I want you too keep an eye on that man.” Jaxo pointed towards Colonel Garter.
    “If he starts undermining my leadership...let me know and I’ll deal with him personally.”
    Jaxo patted his sun-powered gun and Brutus nodded obediently.
     
  5. Love to Write
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    Love to Write I'm a lover of writing. What else is to be said? Contributor

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    Delete
     
  6. Amelyn
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    Amelyn Member

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    Lochlan (Lockie) Davis

    Lockie was doing a final sweep around the caravan. He was checking the perimeter like he did every night to make sure there was nothing dangerous that might threaten them during the night. Having a trained police dog helped and it was the one time that he could let Jack off his lead for a run. He knew Jack made most people nervous and rightly so, he is a highly trained police dog that could attack on command. To some people that made him something to fear. Though Lockie would never use Jack like that, just the fact that it was possible was… well, reassuring… for Lockie at least.

    Lockie liked doing their little nightly routine. Not only did it give him time away from the whining caravan and the somewhat needy people in it, it also gave him freedom to continue to train and reinforce some of Jack’s behaviours. It kept them on their toes and it kept them sharp. Jack could run and keep fit and Lockie would do some basic exercises with him. They would usually spend a good hour going through sit stays, hide and seek and even sometimes attack routines. It kept Jack under control and Lockie enjoyed the quiet of just him and his dog.

    The night was as they usually were, quiet and uneventful. Lockie took the time to reflect on what had happen that day. It hadn’t been a normal day at all. They had found another caravan and had decided it would be best to combine resources and stick together. Lockie agreed somewhat but also realised the dangers of having a large group. It meant they moved slower and had more people to protect. It made them more vulnerable to attack or sickness because they wouldn’t be able to see and watch everything that happened.

    And then there was Jaxo, the ‘leader’ of the other caravan. Being the cop that he was made Lockie very suspicious of people and their intentions and he really had a bad feeling about Jaxo. Lockie couldn’t quite put a finger on it yet but he was not going to except that he had good intentions and was a ‘good’ person.

    I'm gonna have to keep a quiet eye on him I recon. Be Garter’s eyes and ears. Besides he can’t be everywhere at once.
     
  7. SpitFyre
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    SpitFyre Senior Member

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    Arthur Jones

    Arthur forced his way through the forest grumbling to himself as he went "Much to old for this sodding bombs, ruining a good retirement. Now all hell in a hand basket future generation my arse" He pushed aside a thorn bush with his cane swearing as a thorn scratched the back of his hand, "Knives couldn't touch me now a sodding bush manages to draw blood, Should have let that arrogant prig of a president shoot me then i wouldn't have to deal with this worthless decrepit body" He whacked the bush with his cane halfheartedly and carried on.

    The trees began to thin out and Arthur looked out onto the expanse of lake Michelin and saw the caravan group camped near the edge. He stood watching for a minute "may as well join the buggers rather then forcing my way through this blasted country alone and having to eat half cooked meat and tree bark every sodding night." He began to walk down to the caravan then hesitated for a second it had been a long time since he had been around people even before the bombings he was a loner. He shrugged then carried on.

    Arthur hid in the dark shadow of a rock watching the lone sentry walking the rounds smart lad who knew who could be lurking, may as well see how close he could get to the lad, the dog was a problem though. Arthur licked a bony finger and held it in the air for a second he was downwind at least the dog wouldn't smell him. He snuck up to the lad using the shadows cast only moving when a cloud crossed the moon. he got to within 20 meters of the lad and one of his knees gave in and he thrust his cane to the ground to stay upright the cane hit a rock with a loud click causing the dog and boy to turn to him swiftly hand going to his weapon.

    Arthur swore then approached the lad exaggerating his limp "Oi boy do me a favor and take me to the leader of this caravan be quick about it too i dont have enough time in my bones to waste." The dog growled at him "Oh shut up you i aint threatening anyone"
     
  8. Fan7asticMrFox
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    Fan7asticMrFox Contributing Member Contributor

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    Doctor Sophie Martins

    The pale moon hung low in the evening sky, cutting a single silhouette into the wasteland. The lonely figure stood resolute with arms folded, staring across the barren space. She delicately placed a cigarette in her mouth before taking a long, deep breath, filling her lungs with smoky ecstasy. Her eyes closed, her shoulders dropped and her drag finished with a small smile. It had been a long day. Some of these caravan fools had been insufferable, and Sophie had wondered on a number of occasions whether mutants would be better company.

    The merge had not been pleasant either. The discussion between the two leaders had been more like a hostage negotiation and Jaxo had invited her to present a more “intelligent” opinion. Sophie found the whole conversation tedious, and though peace was achieved there was still a clear divide within the camp. She paused, taking another long drag before surveying the wasteland once more.

    The vast open space rolled out ahead of her, with dirty sands glistening in the moonlight. The barren wastes were eerily still tonight, leaving Sophie with an unsettled chill. It’s too bright she thought to herself. The moon shone on her like a spotlight, inviting the dangers of the new world. She flicked the cigarette away, not before smoking it dry. With one last stare at the horizon she released a dejected sigh and turned back towards the camp.

    Movement flickered behind, skittering across the sands. A nervous tingle danced through her and her hand twitched towards the silenced pistol resting close to her chest. Twisting round swiftly with the Colt .45 in hand, Sophie’s eyes narrowed ready for the threat. The empty sands shook silently as a soft breeze waved over the wilderness. Unsure of herself, Sophie waited for a moment before holstering the weapon. Eventually she turned and hastily marched back to her tent.
     
  9. Love to Write
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    Love to Write I'm a lover of writing. What else is to be said? Contributor

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    Samantha Hazel

    Samantha attacked a tree, pretending it was her opponent. *Swish.* Her hand went through several branches without touching them.

    <You have to be able to defend yourself in this world.>

    Her right hand stopped centimeters from the tree trunk.

    <Your mother and I won't always be there to protect you, Sammy.>

    *Swoosh.* Her foot landed a solid blow on a branch near her eye level.

    <Always remember to keep your emotions in check. Allowing anger, fear, hate or misplaced sympathy to take control, can kill you.>

    Samantha breathed heavily and began a slow walk back towards her side of the campsite.

    <Keep your mind and concious clear, fight without reservation, and your opponent will go down almost every time. And don't forget we love you.>

    Samantha plopped down on her makeshift bed beside a tent she shared with Sophie. With limited comforts to go around, most people shared what they had. Samantha and Sophie had met a week ago, and even though there were many secret things that Sophie chose not to reveal, she had found a companion in her.
    Sophie stalked out from behind a campfire, not two minutes later, and took a seat beside her. She gave Samantha a side glance, raising an eyebrow at the sweat discoloring Samantha's faded green t-shirt.

    "Just excersing." She explained.
    "What? You haven't had enough exercising with all this walking? Jeez, girl. Your not that fat."
    Samantha laughed at Sophie's dry humor. It had taken a while to get used to, but she had found it refreashing to the constant complaining by the other members of the group. Especially by Jaxo, her caravan's leader.
    It felt good to be in the presence of a large group finally. With two caravans combined, the group was larger and for some reason, felt much safer. She brushed her fingers through her tangled, brown hair.

    "You think this Colonel guy will be able to keep Jaxo and his goons in check?" She asked Sophie.
     
  10. Amelyn
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    Amelyn Member

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    Lockie and Jack

    The night was peaceful enough. There was a slight breeze but nothing to worry about and Jack wasn’t indicating any odd scents. Lockie looked towards the camp which sat quietly a few hundred meters away. He could make out a lone woman standing not far off, smoking, he could tell this by the tell-tale red ember from the cigarette as she took a drag. He could also see a younger woman practicing some kind of martial art on a tree. These two had been part of the other caravan so he didn’t know anything about them.

    I’ll have to keep an eye on them till I know more, he thought to himself.

    He was pulled from his thoughts by Jack. He had stopped and a low rumble was coming from his throat. His ears twitched trying to pick up and pin point the source of whatever was bothering him. He lifted his nose to the wind to try and catch the scent. These signs told Lockie that something was amiss.

    Crack

    Lockie spun to his left, hand dropping to hover over his pistol. An olderly man with a cane approached. By now Jack was ready to attack, teeth revealed, barking and crouching slightly set to pounce.

    “Heel” Lockie called to Jack, before he decided to neutralize the man.

    "Oi boy do me a favor and take me to the leader of this caravan be quick about it too i dont have enough time in my bones to waste. Oh shut up you i aint threatening anyone"

    By now Jack was at Lockie’s left leg but his stance had not changed, though his barking had died down to a snarl.

    “Sir, as you can see my dog is free and ready, at my command, to attack. If you do not show me your hands and explain yourself I will let him.”
     
  11. SpitFyre
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    SpitFyre Senior Member

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    Arthur Jones

    “Sir, as you can see my dog is free and ready, at my command, to attack. If you do not show me your hands and explain yourself I will let him.”

    Arthur scowled "You would set your mutt on me. I was old before you were a lewd thought in your paps head boy have some respect. Keep about your rounds il find someone with more then two braincells to rub together." Arthur turned and walked towards the camp.

    As he was about to pass between two of the caravans another man popped out arms spread. Arthur looked up at him the idiot was at least 6ft 6 tall and built like a house. "No further old man." Arthur laughed and raised his hands to either side of his head and growled like a dog. The man scowled and took a step forwards, While he was off balance Arthur wrapped the handle of his cane behind the mans knee and pulled toppling him to the floor. Arthur advanced whacking the man anywhere exposed as he rolled to protect sensitive parts. Whack! "Have" Whack! "Some" Whack! "Respect" Arthur's last hit clipped the mans temple and he slumped down unconscious. Arthur stepped over him and continued into the camp. Muttering darkly about the youth of today.

    He came across the central fire and saw a middle age woman cooking in a large pot in the middle he walked close and tipped an imaginary hat to her, she smiled with a corner of her mouth but otherwise ignored him. "Mother i was wondering if i could have a taste it has been a long road coming here" She tapped him on the knee with the long handled spoon "Nooone eats till its proper and done" Arthur sat down on a handy log near her "Surly you wouldn't make a half starved man wait when the smell pulls at him stronger then an angels call" The woman smiled again "Alright one taste in return for sweet words, and you can park your self there and wait for the Colonel to get here" Arthur took a taste of the stew and sat back arms behind his head. The woman scowled "no more sweet words on my stew or now ya got what you want ya quit it?" Arthur smiled "I dont have the words to describe it propper i would prefer to show my contentment in my posture mother" The woman smiled again and tapped him playfully with her spoon "Just sit and be quiet silvertongue before i find myself liking you too much"
     
  12. Mr Mr
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    Mr Mr Active Member

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    Bee

    The fish swam about just out of reach; Bee didn't move. The bait was just a few inches closer, all the fish had to do was swim towards her and she could grab it. It was a big one aswell, it would make a tasty meal. As the fish swam closer Bee misjudged the distance and grabbed, falling forwards and into the water. It panicked and tried to turn away but Bee grabbed it's tail. She stabbed into it as it swam through the shallows towards the deep.

    Bee panicked. She'd encountered the giant thing that lurked at the bottom of the lake and wasn't too keen to let it have another crack at her. She sank her claws in again, and again, the fish slowing enough for her to start swimming against it. Blood filled the water now. Bee carried on swimming, the fish had stopped moving now. Leaving the water she dragged the fish behind her.

    She took it to the building she'd been living in since...since as far as she could remember. It was right next to the lake, a large wooden square hung above the door with wierd shapes Bee didn't understand carved into it. She had found a lot of the symbols around the building, carved onto walls adn various places. Placing the fish on the table in her cooking room she started to slice it up with her claws.

    2 days worth counting tonights meal!

    Fish sliced she wrapped it in some cloth she had found before storing it in a metal box set into the wall. So far nothing had entered the house but she did it just incase. Bee headed up to the second level of the building and to her sleeping place. Her sleeping spot was a large bathtub she had filled with pillows from around the building. She was about to settle down when a noise came from outside.

    "Ggggrrrrr"

    Bee darted downstairs and peaked out from the door. What looked like a bear with scales stood metres from the building, sniffing the trail of blood she had left. It looked up and she hid behind the door wimpering. After a moment she stuck her head out again.

    "Go away or Teddy will get you!" Bee called dropping to all fours. The bear paused for a moment before turning and heading back into the woods. Bee waited a moment before heading back to her sleeping place and settling down. As she slowly drifted off she wondered what things were like out side of the lake.
     
  13. Amelyn
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    Amelyn Member

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    Lockie Davis

    Lockie stood there in shock. The elderly man had blatantly ignored him and walked away. Not before beating some bloke with his cane mind you. Even Jack was quiet and just staring after the man. Neither of them moved for a few seconds till Jack got bored and started barking at the beaten man on the ground.

    I have got to tell the Colonel about this, he thought to himself, grabbing Jack’s lead that was slung over his shoulder and clipped him on heading towards the caravan.

    The caravan was not quite settled for the night. People were still sorting out sleeping arrangements and food. The central fire was burning and people were using what cooking utensils they could carry to cook what food they could find or had carried. For the most part everyone helped everyone else, whether it was with cooking or setting up their tents. There was a pretty good community feel amongst the people of the caravan but Lockie had to wonder how the new group might change the dynamics.

    Lockie didn’t have a tent to sleep in; he just slept in a makeshift swag, something he could easily carry but also so he could easily hear things and react if things went bad. The only time he would seek some kind of shelter was when it would rain. The rain was almost toxic from all the chemicals in the air and one could have a very bad reaction to it if they were caught in it without getting shelter.

    Lockie got to the camp and started looking for the Colonel. He had seen him talking to Jaxo earlier but he could see him now.
     
  14. JessWrite
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    JessWrite Word Nerd & Proud! Contributor

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    Kyra Shade

    "Gigi, tap into my contacts."

    "Certainly Miss Shade, please stand by."

    Her phone's slick surface illuminated her scowl, as she sat on a log a few feet from the main fire. Once Gigi brought up her contacts, she began to delete the numbers of the people who had passed on from her life. It had been 6 months. Half a year since she had joked and laughed with her friends, gossiped on the latest juicy news, went shopping, dyed her hair, and relaxed in her hot tub. It was official. She would probably never hear from these people ever again. It was time to move on, permanently.

    Kyra sighed, when she got to the M names. Marshal. His name and profile picture was all she had left of him. She sat there for a moment to stare at his once familiar dark brown eyes and dimples, the past flashing to the forefront of her mind. Her heartbeat quickened at the memory of their last morning spent at his house before she had left for work. His arms wrapped around her, his breath on her cheek...

    Her device gave a sudden flicker before its screen turned a solid deadly black. “Darn solar battery!” Kyra muttered, angrily tossing her dead phone into her bag to pull out a piece of gum in its place. Others had cigarettes and alcohol; she had gum. She flicked out her favorite, Spearmint, and chomped away at its tangy flavor. While brushing her fingers through her hair, she turned to look curiously around at the nightlife of camp.

    After jumping through eight different caravans, she had made her way to one a few days ago, guided by an old army man. And, today another caravan had conveniently stumbled in their path. She hadn't yet tried to form any new friendships. These people seemed smarter than most, she would need to be extra careful.

    Since experiencing attention from other caravans, Kyra had taken advantage of her looks. Stupidity was a fair enough handicap. Why should she go collect firewood and do all of the heavy labor, if no one expected her to anyway? She vowed to be the secret weapon. When everyone was worn out and something major finally got in their way, she’d be the one to the rescue, the dumb blonde to turn intelligent. Kyra’s scowl turned into a smirk, as she lightly patted her bag, feeling the indent of her knife handle.
     
  15. Love to Write
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    Love to Write I'm a lover of writing. What else is to be said? Contributor

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    Colonel Matt Garter

    The colonel had finally finished his rounds and was about to sit and eat when Lockie approached from behind. He knew it was him because his walk was unique and was almost always accomponied by the heavy breathing of his watch dog.
    "Anything to report, Mr. Davis?" He took a mouthful of food as he waited for an answer.

    "Evening sir. The perimeter is clear, nothing to worry about there. But I did come across a strange old fellow that totally disregarded my instructions and wondered into camp. Not before beating so poor bloke that jumped out of the bushes. Speaking of, we probably should check on him too. Umm, a girl from Jaxo's group was doing some kind of martial art on a tree, very precise, I might add. But other then that, sir, nothing else comes to mind. How did things go with Jaxo?"

    Garter chuckled at the news and guestured for Lockie to sit and eat with him. "Well, if the man wasn't unconscious or bleeding he'll likely be fine. If he really needs help, Dr. Fox should be able to oblige. As for the old man, there is room to spare. I will find a time to greet him soon. And Jaxo...well the meeting went as well as can be expected. I have no doubt in my mind that he has an instatiable hunger for power, so we need to handle the merge of our caravan's carefully if we are to avoid conflict. It's bad enough we are fighting against the rest of the world without fighting amonst ourselves."

    Colonel Garter set his tin plate down and rubbed his calloused hands together before looking Lockie in the eyes. "Rest up and eat well, Lockie. I have a feeling that tommorrow is going to be a very interesting day."
     
  16. SpitFyre
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    SpitFyre Senior Member

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    Arthur Jones

    Arthur sat staring into the flames in a world of his own, One hand gripped tight to the handle of his cane, His other hand flicking a blade along the back of his fingers, most people had seen magicians do the same with a coin, only Arthur did it with a knife. He looked into the flames watching them dance and form pictures.

    ___________________________________________
    August 5th 2020 London, Arthur sat on a bench watching the politicians slowly filter into the house of commons a gristly job this one but the employer paid well, he just wished it didn't have to be so damn theatrical. When the last politician filtered in Arthur wandered in after them assuming the guise he had stolen a couple of months ago. He sat in his seat smiling slightly as the doors were sealed behind them locking them in the room till the debate was finished.

    Arthur checked his watch 10 min exactly he heard a slight hissing, he ducked underneath his chair and slipped an oxygen mask over his face. Within seconds the occupants of the room began to slump down in sleep. He waited a couple of minutes and released the mask. The employer hadn't asked for sleep gas he wanted them to all suffer but hey ho no need for idiocy in this line of work. He pulled a knife from the handle of his cane and walked along the large lines of people a quick slash across the neck of each occupant. It took him over an hour to finish off all the politicians, his suit was still pristine but his hands were drenched in blood. He scowled and wiped them clean on the coat of a fat guy on the end row.

    He reached back into his coat and pulled out a metal contraption he pressed a few buttons and threw it into the center of the room, He walked to the wall and pulled out a panel slipping into the walls. Arthur looked back into the huge room and saw the white phosphorus spitter begin to spin throwing great gouts of flame onto the walls and floor, Time to go. He hurried into the cavity of the wall and escaped out of the building.
    ________________________________________
    Arthur threw himself out of his memories with a shudder, he noticed himself flicking the blade across his fingers and scowled shoving it away. He raised both his hands in front of him old hands, but with more blood on them then most dictators, strange how still he felt no guilt or remorse just a lingering disappointment, with himself or that he couldn't do it anymore Arthur didn't know. He sighed and took a long gulp from a flask at his belt.
     
  17. Fan7asticMrFox
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    Fan7asticMrFox Contributing Member Contributor

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    Doctor Sophie Martins

    "You think this Colonel guy will be able to keep Jaxo and his goons in check?"

    The question passed over Sophie, her mind scrambled in thought. The evening had brought strange winds to the wastes and each howl screeched across the tent like frenzied screams. Strange silence held between their wails and the moon sharpened in the sky, looming ever larger over the camp. Her stomach wrenched, rotting her to the core.

    “Well?” Samantha persisted. “Sorry, what?” Sophie returned to reality once more, met by a quizzical look slapped across Samantha’s face. “The Colonel? Do you think he can handle Jaxo?” Samantha spread over her bedroll on her stomach, arms folded under her chin and legs bent in the air, poised like a school girl gossiping with friends. So naive. Sophie shot a dark stare across the tent, striking coldly at the girl’s heart. “That’s not the right question to be asking. Can you trust the Colonel? Ah…” A dry smile crept onto Sophie’s lips, “…now that is more interesting.”

    She stood from the conversation, allowing her words to weave doubts in the girl’s head. The night’s haunting song had made Sophie restless, and the talk of the Colonel had intrigued her. The discussions between him and Jaxo, while heated, had been irrelevant. It was time for more serious matters and Sophie had been itching to give the officer a piece of her mind.

    Passing near the camp fire, voices snaked quietly into the open air. Chatter of flawed patrols and threats to power leaked into the darkness where Sophie waited patiently, listening intently. The Colonel perched by the fire, scoffing down beans like a rabid beast. His lieutenant sat closely, trading open secrets, and gently patting his mutt of a dog.

    "Rest up and eat well, Lockie. I have a feeling that tomorrow is going to be a very interesting day." As Lockie motioned to leave, Sophie materialised from the shadows, much to the surprise of the two men.

    “Well if it isn’t Turner and Hooch. Why don’t you just run along now and complete another failed patrol before bed?” She brushed past Lockie, not before giving him a sharp nudge with her shoulder, and placed herself next to the superior. “Go on now… the Colonel and I have business to discuss.”
     
  18. Snowmantheory
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    Snowmantheory Senior Member

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    Makari Shleckno
    ~Dear Verkov,
    It’s been how long? Hell, I’ve lost track of time in this purgatory. Things haven’t been going right sir, I wasn’t supposed to end up like this. I only wish you would call more often. The only thing that I could find for entertainment down here is socializing, counting, and other mindless ways to “make the best”. I don’t even like the people down here, they are so distant from the world, crude as well. They are always just fading into nothing and rematerializing. As they fade they always taunt me, ignoring me when they aren’t taunting me.
    Sir, please send help. I’m exactly where you sent me, doing my job. You haven’t held your end too well… not to criticize of course! You have done a great job! Well, I gues~
    What was that? Noises outside? Chatter? I swipe up the letter in a haste, ignoring the flickering faces of my bunk mates. “Hello?” I shout. Who am I kidding? They won’t hear me yelling, they will probably just ignore it. Maybe, if I’m lucky, they will hear this. Running to the door I keep shouting “Help!” then I pound on the door. My bunk mates just stay still, staring blankly at me. “What do you want from me?!” they just keep staring… judging… Come to think of it I don’t even remember letting these people in. Around day 8, was it? They just showed up, not speaking a word unless to taunt me.
    “You aren’t leaving here. You’ve been deserted once, you will be deserted again.” One of them heckled.
    “You’ll be stuck with your good friends at the shelter!” a little girl giggled.
    “All of you, if you don’t want this-“ I reveal my TKB-506 magnum “- I recommend you leave me be.” Even at that, they stared blankly. Staring right through my magnum. Ignoring it.
    I continue pounding on the door, hopefully they will hear me.
     
  19. Love to Write
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    Love to Write I'm a lover of writing. What else is to be said? Contributor

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    Colonel Matt Garter

    “Well if it isn’t Turner and Hooch. Why don’t you just run along now and complete another failed patrol before bed?” She brushed past Lockie, not before giving him a sharp nudge with her shoulder, and placed herself next to the superior. “Go on now… the Colonel and I have business to discuss.”

    The Colonel nodded his head at Lockie, signalling that he'd be fine. The sassy woman, who had spoken, came and sat down beside him. She had pretty brown hair and an amazing figure. Matt would have been almost smitten with her if it wasn't for the dangerous, scheming look in her eye. He turned so that he didn't have to crane his neck to see her.

    "I recognize you from Jaxo's caravan. What's your name?"

    "My friends call me Sophie. My colleagues call me Doctor Martins." Her face twisted into a crude sneer, "You are neither." Matt disregarded her comment, unaffected by her cruelty.
    "Well, Sophie. What is it that you wanted to say?"
    “Don’t play dumb Colonel. You may find that most of our caravan are ignorant fools, but you will not pull the wool over my eyes.” Matt gave an raised an eyebrow, wondering as to what she was insinutating.
    "I'm afraid I don't understand what you are saying."
    “You may act the hero, but I know you just want power. I see how you look at these people, like they are sheep ready to follow their shepherd. A noble cause?” A quiet cackle left her lips, enough to cause the colonel to move his hand a little closer to his ankle weapon. “I highly doubt it. I see the hunger for power in you, as I see in Jaxo. You lead these people to a promise of Asili – for what, so they can call you their Protector, their Saviour, their King?” Her eyes searched the Colonel’s face, longing for a reaction.

    Matt stood, a fire in his eyes. Few dared call him traitor or insinuated that he wanted more than to protect his carvan. Matt wanted to yell at this infuriating woman. To tell her all that he had done to protect them. To prove to her that he had everyone's best intentions at heart. But the look in her eyes told him that this was exactly what she wanted. She was prodding him to see how he reacted, so he took a deep breath and spoke calmly.

    "You have been with this caravan for only a few hours and already you are accusing me of things. I assure you, I only have both caravan's best intentions at heart. I have no desire to be worshipped or called king. Perhaps your time with Jaxo has caused you to be fearful that I might be worse then him. I assure you, I'm not. I hope with time, you will come to see me differently." With that, Matt gave Sophie a polite bow and walked off towards his tent. Sophie stood as well and with a wry smile on her face, she called out to Matt in a low voice, "I'll be watching you, Colonel. This isn't over."
     
  20. Love to Write
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    Love to Write I'm a lover of writing. What else is to be said? Contributor

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    Colonel Matt Garter

    A New Day

    A dog barking. That was the first thing Matt heard when he woke up the following morning. He sat up and listened as Lockie’s dog began barking more incessantly as if warning of danger. Matt grabbed his gun and crawled out of the make-shift tent. A rat the size of pig walked past him. It turned its head towards Matt, sniffed him, kept on walking and began rummaging through the food left out from the night before.
    At least it’s not aggressive. Unfortunately it was a premature thought, as a scream pierced the air immediatly afterwards. A young woman ran out of her tent with a large rat dangling, by it’s teeth, from her blood soaked sleeve. Her scream was the first of many, as people were rudely waken up by mice and rats, much bigger than normal, attacking them. Their claws were an odd color of yellow and Matt worried that they were poisonous. He shot a rat the size of cat that charged him. The rat flew back a few inches but then stood back up and charged again. He had to shoot it two more times before it finally died.
    The pig-sized rat was shot at by someone to his left and the rat charged at it’s attacker. It took several shots from several people to finally put it down. By this time the whole camp was in choas. Women and men alike were screaming in pain and fear. Those who had managed to get weapons were doing their best to fend off the mutated vermin. Matt grabbed an extra solar-powered gun and tossed it to an older man trying to fend off the rats with a frying pan. It was time to protect his people.
     
  21. Snowmantheory
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    Snowmantheory Senior Member

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    Escape

    The jammed door stands strong as the sentinel holding me in here. For every Super Man there's a kryptonite, to every lock a key, to every jammed door- I haven't heard that one. Boy would I love this to just be locked, I could pull the infamous lock-shooting. Of course, what sense would it make for an explosion to simply lock my door? No, it had to bust it in. Blow the hinges out, but keep the door jammed in. Of course! All of the ingredients are right in front of me, some tape, a bit of gun powder, some string, and there's bound to be some sort of pin or something.

    A few minutes later: Alright, I've got my gun powder emptied. Gently now, pouring it on to the ripped off slab of tape, I can't afford to lose any of this. Sliding the string on to the tape, a perfect fuse. Just need to roll it up. That won't be enough, I'll need a few more.

    Twenty minutes later: "About fifteen make-shift firecrackers ready to go, now I just need to link them up, I may have to get some more force to it, and spark it. Some tape should suffice." I roll up all of the firecrackers into one piece of tape. For the finishing touches, I sprinkle one more bullet's worth of gun powder. A bit of my ammo was consumed by this experiment, but I should be fine. Now, there's gotta be a lighter around here somewhere. I catch a glint of steel attached to a red box, my lighter. Perfect.

    Flicking the switch and activating the spark, I realize that I have absolutely no protection. I'll need to fix that if I don't want to go down with the door. There are supplies all around me, the shelves will do best. Raising up my arms, I grasp a shelf and tear it off of the wall. These never were too tough of shelves...

    After about twenty minutes of tearing apart the shelter for a barricade, I'm finally ready to light the fuse. Well, bombs away I guess... I hold up the lighter to the string and flick it on. Running behind my shelter as soon as the deed has been done.

    BOOM! I cry out in pain for my ears. The ringing, it doesn't stop. I can't even think of a time when they weren't ringing, it just clouds my thoughts completely. One thought does stand in my mind though. The door... it's still there. It hardly looks like it moved, I wedged the explosives right where the hinges should be! The blast should have finished off the door! In my clouded rage, I charge at the door. I collapse when my shoulder hits the door, pain shooting out through my arm. The door collapses too. As if my senses weren't being tortured enough, the light floods in. "H..h..hello wor-" my words fall short in my agony. I look behind me at my personal Hell, I see my old cell-mates sitting there. I had forgotten all about them. They are sobbing, they don't want me to leave. As they sob, I just hold up one finger. One finger to show them how much I hated them, cursed them. They disappear. I have conquered them.

    Now to conquer the rest of my personal fears, time to face the world. I must continue where I left off, but where to first?
     
  22. SpitFyre
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    SpitFyre Senior Member

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    Arthur Jones

    Arthur woke up with a snort, he heard the screams echoing through the camp. He frowned and wriggled a finger in his ear dislodging the earwax. The screams magnified "Ahh that's better" He looked down to his feet and saw a large rat crouched there, "not these buggers again" He slammed his cane into the middle of the rats head shattering its skull. Arthur got up gingerly hopping slightly as he got his balance. The rats were everywhere locking their nasty little teeth onto people the idiotic beasts were too stupid to realize their claws were poisonous while their teeth were useless.

    Arthur slipped his cane into a loop on his belt and began pulling knives from tons of small pockets. As he pulled each out he threw it with a flick of the wrist, the knives flew through the air taking each rat just behind the ears severing the spinal cord, Arthur slipped slightly as he threw and a knife went wide causing a shallow cut on the leg of a woman running away and embedding itself in a caravan wall. The woman stopped and looked at him accusingly "Sorry love Eyes aint as good as they were".

    Arthur walked around the rats he had hit pulling the knives out and wiping the blades on the nasty hides to clean them before secreting them away once more. He kept one in his hand and hobbled towards more screams. He came out next to another tent and saw what he guessed to be the Cornall, He skimmed a knife at a rat jumping at his back, He hit it perfectly mid air the corpse hitting him in the back. "Thats 6 for me chief better speed up a bit". A rat jumped at Arthur and he casually raised his cane pressing a switch on the handle a foot long thin blade sprung out of the bottom impaling the rat through the eye socket, Arthur shoved it off his cane retracting the blade with a wet 'Shick' "disgusting creatures"
     
  23. Amelyn
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    Amelyn Member

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    Lockie and Jack

    Lockie had shaken his head as he walked away. Not only did he not like the lady’s tone or treatment of him but he couldn’t understand why the Colonel hadn’t defended him.

    I guess next time I will have to do my own dirty work, he thought as he stalked off to take first watch.

    The early evening was peaceful enough as Lockie sat on a rock just outside the camp. Jack lay next to him, not asleep but head down, comfortable. It was a good sign when Jack wasn’t restless, hopefully that meant the night would be an uneventful one. Lockie rolled out his swag and lay down, he could sleep sound knowing Jack would wake him at the slightest problem. That’s exactly what happened.

    Lockie woke sharply, jolted awake by Jack’s low growl. He got up quickly and looked in the direction to which Jack was looking. He didn’t see anything but then his senses were nothing compared to that of a dog. It wasn’t till Jack started barking hysterically that Lockie pulled his gun.
    What happened next took Lockie totally by surprise, all of a sudden large rats were rushing the camp. They came from nowhere into the dull light of the morning sun. He just stood and stared for a moment as some wondered past harmlessly, others looked at Jack, who was at the outer reaches of his chain trying to get at them. It wasn’t till Lockie heard the screams from the camp that he snapped into gear. He released Jack from his chain and ran after him towards the closest tent.

    It was mayhem, people and rats alike ran around, both trying to defend themselves, humans mostly winning. Then Lockie saw the karate girl from the night before. Rats were making their way towards her and she looked defenceless.

    “Come,” he called to Jack as he started to head in her direction.

    Those karate moves won’t help much here, he thought as Jack grabbed a rat by the throat and with one sharp shake, broke its neck. Lockie shot another in the head as it tried to leap onto Jack’s back in retaliation. Lockie shot several more as he made his way as quickly as the damn things would allow him, aided by Jack, toward the girl.

    I have to help her, he thought as he put another bullet through yet another rat.
     
  24. JessWrite
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    JessWrite Word Nerd & Proud! Contributor

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    Kyra Shade

    She hated to lose precious beauty sleep; to rats of all creatures. Disgusting vermin were crawling all around camp, and the desperate screams had awakened her. After opening her tent cover, she had wanted to go back to sleep and ignore the situation, but rats had already invaded her personal space. Kyra scowled while she rummaged through her bag, to pull out her bowie knife. Crawling back inside the tent, a rat as large as a housecat made eye contact with its red eyes glowing, pearly incisors revealed.

    “Don’t worry little guy, this won’t hurt much.” Kyra cooed at the creature, raising her knife with both hands. The rat pounced for the kill, but missed the landing, her knife blade piercing its mutated heart. She shook the rat off the knife, and slashed through a few other smaller rat bodies before wiping off the discolored blood with her blanket. Quickly she pocketed the knife once more, before exiting the murder scene.

    Kyra’s eyes widened at the amount of people scattered about, hitting the rats with anything possible. She walked a long the edge of camp, watching in amazement at the weakness and strength combined of the people. She would join in to slash through more mutant flesh, but that would completely blow her cover. She’d have to take a different approach this time.

    Kicking off a rat that bit at her leather boots, she ran to a cluster of people. A girl was fighting off some rats and she noticed in the distance a muscular man with gun raised. It was obvious that his direction and attention was toward the young girl. Lightbulb. Placing herself in front of the girl, she watched as the stunned rats the girl had kicked, got up and pursued their new prey.

    She raised her arms, flailing them helplessly. “Help! Someone help me please!” Kyra squealed, a mask of fear covering her face.
     
  25. Love to Write
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    Love to Write I'm a lover of writing. What else is to be said? Contributor

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    Samantha Hazel

    Samantha brushed back the blond hair that kept falling in her face, as she kicked at rats that got to close. She hated rats. They were her worst nightmare. And being surrounded by them was even worse. She despretly wanted to scream and hide but she felt as if her dead parents would be ashamed if she did. Besides...there was no where to hide. A man ran towards her with a gun and shot a rat that lept at her. She nodded her head in appreciation.
    Samantha looked around her feet. She needed some sort of weapon. Sure her kicks were strong enough to break a guy's nose but these rats seemed to have 9 nine lives. The man stopped beside her and started shooting rats that got within distance. She reliezed with a start that he was trying to protect her. How sweet.

    The thought was interrupted by a young woman, probably a few years older than her, suddenly appearing in front of her. She was screaming hysterically and waving her arms like a scared cheerleader. Samantha wanted to yell at her to stop screaming but she understood that not all girls had her training in controlling their emotions. She stepped back, as another rat charged, and nearly tripped over something. A frying pan! She grabbed it and with a satisfying "wack" she sent the rat flying out of the camp.
    Think of them as baseballs. Baseballs with hair and legs. Come and get it baseball!!

    The woman was still screaming so Samantha pushed her behind her and said sternly, "Stop screaming! You're only attracting them." She looked back out at the camp. There seemed to be less rats but people were still having trouble with some of the big ones. Hopefully they would retreat soon.
     

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