oasismods: (Default)
Oᴀsɪs Mᴏᴅs ([personal profile] oasismods) wrote in [community profile] oasislogs2016-02-11 01:01 pm

[Intro Log #01] Enjoy your new vacation home



 INTRO LOG #01

The Crash



"-̭̫̜̩̪̑̈́̓̌̐-̞͓̘̩͖̿́͒͑͘░͙͈̥̦̼̌̊̒̾̅░̨̢̠͙̖̉͊̽͌͝░̫͔͎̤̘̀̑͋͛̾ȩ̨̬̙͛̐̋̀̕͜m̻̬͈̠͒̌͌̍͌͜ ̡̲͈̙̼̽̾͆̊̃f̖̟͉̲̪̈́̾̀̂̀ą̢̯̘̙́̇͑̈̋i̪̱̙̘̟͌́̄̊͘ļ̢̛̲͕̣͐̎̿͛u͕̣̥̘̳̓̃͗͠͝r͉̠̗͖̰̉̅͗̚͘ę̛̺̥̝̘̄͑̌̈́.̣̫͕̰̭̓͂̈́̓͊ ̟̗͔̟͋̿̒̚̚ͅA̠̫̬̼̣̒̇͛́̊l̫̬͎̤͈͑̀͂̐̆ë̡̧̝̺͖́̍̂͂͝r͙͍̱̫͕̆͊̾͐̕ţ͙̻̣̝͒́̄̈́͆!͕̫͓͉̹̌̍̽̂̓ ̧̛̲͎͖̳̌̆̾̏░͖̲̞̼̹̇̄̌̈́̊░̡͍͎͍̘̇̈́̕͝░̪͚̼̦̃̋͊̆͜͠è̛̞̬͙̠̖̊͌̂m͖̝̟̗̣̽̄̐̚͠ ̛̹̯͈̮̼̈́͊͌͠f̧̰̖͋̊̈̊̑͜͜ą̨͚͎̹̀̎̑͋́i̞̬͓̭̳̎́̓͘͠l̢͈̲͇͕̈́̆̐̌̈́ư̰̞͚̻̺̔͑̓̑ṛ͎̯͚̇̔̾̔̏͜ę̛̻̼̭͊͆̕͜͝.̯̖̫̣͔̔̋̔̽͠ ̺̼̟̲͌́͒̔̅ͅĄ̹̝̖̺̂̇̽̒͊ĺ̛̺̰̰̤͎̾͗͝e̛̗̭̻͕̹̓̔͆̆r̢̛͙͖̘̻̈̚̚͘t̰̲̠̖̻̉͂̆̓̇!̬̞̟͉̺̂͆̊͑͐"


You awaken to godawful static overlaying a female voice that's too monotone to be anything but a recording. The static makes it difficult to understand the warning, but it's clearly a warning if your surroundings tell you anything...

You're buckled into a sturdy seat bolted to the wall behind you. Around you, there are dozens of others like you, some awake and others still unconscious, but it seems most of the seats lining the walls are occupied. The lights are dim, likely auxiliary lighting, leaving you mostly in the dark. You smell smoke and hear the sizzling crackle of electrical systems popping and shorting out. Some of the seats were jarred off the wall, leaving the occupants either wounded or dead. Count yourself lucky all you have is a headache and various aches accounted to whiplash.

You appear to be in a drop ship or an escape vessel of some form but the pilot is dead and the hull bears a massive gash where it buckled under the impact and sheered off. Through the door-sized opening, you can see vegetation. The air that wafts in is heavy with a humid heat, but it's obviously breathable.

Once you make your way outside, you'll see greenery: Trees, grass, and shrubs tangled with vines that grow wildly and suffocate the trees they climb. In the distance, behind the ship, you can make out a sandy desert that seems to stretch on endlessly. Forward through the trees, however, you may see a crumbling wall, but more importantly, you'll see signs of civilisation. Buildings and other structures seem contained within those decrepit walls. Maybe the natives can fill you in on what's going on, because the last thing you remember isn't being in an escape shuttle. As a matter of fact, you don't remember much about your arrival or where you are. But it's going to be a bit of a hike, better get moving. Though you might want to grab the backpack of supplies under your seat before you go.

"W̞͓̝͓̓̀̍̒͘͜ȃ̢̗̪̤͇̔̃̚͝░̟͙̯̳̱̈͂̈́̈́͠n̬̘̬̤̠͛̅̈́͋͝i͓̟͈͎͙̐̆̈́̔̓n̡̟̤̟̤̑͐͋͐̚g̩̱͖͉̻͌͛̈͆̈́!̧̪̰͇̦̓̂̆̌͝ ̢͔̣̠̗̾̉́̌̒C̢̥̟͍͊͊͑̀̚ͅr̛͙̪̙̟͐̽̓̅͜i̫͖̻̣̘̽̑͂̾̎t̩͇̦̬̞͊̌̑̈́͝i̡̳̠̞̐̿̍̎̀͜c̡͕͙͕͕̓̊̌̾͘å̼̯͍̙̲̍̏̚͝l̢̥͉̮̙̋̆͐̆́ ̢̰̞͕̯̋̈́̈́̋͌f͇͔̟̻̈̽͌̒̉ͅa̳̰̠͉͔͒̑̈̈͘i̟̭̦̺͎̍̾̽̈́̐░͕̣̥̭͛̿̓̽̐ͅ░̰̪̠͇͍̆͛̀͝͝░̘̱̩̳̘͆̈́̆̀̚e̛̻͈̳̳̺̊̔̚̕.͙̟̳̼̾̀̅͊͊ͅ"


With that, the power dies, leaving the drop ship in the dark, crackling and groaning as the hull cools from its catastrophic re-entry.


[Mod Note: In case you missed the testdrive, this is your chance to play out your arrival or any other intro CR]


Traversing the Forest



Between the crash and the ruined city is a lush forest full of skittish wild life, the ruins of a farmhouse-like structure, various flora, and the occasional body. Try not to get too close to those bodies, kids. They have a tendency to wake up and try to get ya. The closer to the city one gets, the more frequently they'll see a dormant body.

Hopefully you took the time to set up your small ear piece. Once inserted into the ear, the device will prompt you for your name. Once spoken, the device in your ear will be given its own address and all someone has to do is tap the button on their ear piece, speak "private to" then their friend's name, and it will open a private channel to the comm device coded with that name. Open radio signals can be sent by simply tapping the button and speaking.

Once you reach the city gates, you will find a mass of corpses piled against the closed gates. These corpses will stir when they catch the scent of the survivors or hear their approach. You may want to take care of the dormant infected before they fully regain awareness. Or, you know, trip the closest person to you and run like hell. Maybe they'll be too distracted chewing on your former friend to follow...

Once inside the city, you'll meet its only surviving occupant. He's a bit unique and a bit... well... he's unique.


⨷ TK Baha's Warm Welcome


[TALK]

"Smells like livin' folk. Yer just lucky I got no munitions left."

Sitting on a porch with a shotgun balanced in his lap was a scarred gentleman wearing dark goggle-like glasses. He was missing a leg and looked a little worse for the wear. His voice was thick with a drawl, but he seemed to be well and alive. He chuckled and lowered the shotgun back to his lap, patting the barrel.

"Naw, ain't seen nothin' worth shootin' in a long time. Heehee! Ohhh-hoo boy, you lot've seen better days. Well, come on over here and git that gate shut before somethin' with an appetite thinks we're open for business." TK smiled and laughed again, beckoning the shipwrecked survivors to come closer. "Let's see. First things first, you lot gotta have somewhere to stay. Hotel's open an' prices 're cheaper than ever! Forgive the staff, they ain't too lively, though if you know what I mean. Heeheehee! You get it, right? 'cause they're all dead. Make yerselves at home. You're gonna be here a while."

TK pulls out an old, worn, folded pamphlet and holds it out. There are plenty to go around. "This here's a tourist's guide ta everythin' ya need to know. Or, well, kinda some of it. Anyway, it's useful. Take it. The name's TK Baha and I been around these parts a while. Anything you need, you let me know, okay?"

"You got a good set a' legs, right? See, I gotta ask you a favour. I ain't been keeping up with things. Gonna need you to find me a power cell for this here transceiver. Think I stashed the last one at the hotel reception desk. Or was it the minimart? The fuel station? Anyway, you get me that and I'll get this here piece of scrap workin' again."



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strangelic: (Considerate)

[personal profile] strangelic 2016-02-29 07:00 pm (UTC)(link)
[ And that's enough. Castiel turns his face away slightly, grimacing as the blade plunges through bone, killing the brain before its pulled free with the most unfortunate wet noise. He holds the body for a moment, before dropping it at his feet, a crumpled mess of a thing that barely resembles a human any more.

It's a waste. A waste of life, a waste of a death. How many of these things are out there, if they've come across so many already?

He sidestepped around the corpse, wiping his hands off on his coat. He'd smell of rotting death if he kept this up--which was about when the one Dean had made stumble came weaving toward him.
]

kickingand: (Default)

[personal profile] kickingand 2016-03-02 04:59 pm (UTC)(link)
How many more we got?

[ Dean is fully oblivious to Cas' feelings on the matter, instead turning to face what he believes is an oncoming hoard. He's expecting more to pop out of the bushes, a flock to appear, monsters running towards them dragging the weight of their dead bodies. He's primed and ready to go and ignoring the misery pounding down on his head. Because it's easier to fight than it is to think and so he's here, only here, nowhere else.

All he wants is for the fight to go on until there's nothing left. Let him return to the murky shadows of warfare for a few more seconds, but there isn't a horde, and there isn't anything but the fallen bodies, the creak of the forest surround.
]
strangelic: (Pointing)

[personal profile] strangelic 2016-03-03 12:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It takes him a moment to dispatch the straggler, and as the body falls a sort of eerie silence falls over them again, just the steadiness of breathing, as though the forest is holding its breath while it decides whether it's safe to exhale again. ]

That's all of them, now. We should push ahead, while it seems clear.

[ And the farmhouse isn't far now. It'll be a good place to rest, catch their own breath. ]
kickingand: (Default)

[personal profile] kickingand 2016-03-03 08:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Then let's make it quick. Without, y'know, causing a shitstorm.

[ Ducking his head and carrying on, Dean started back up on his path, leading the way without truly intending to. He wasn't even sure what direction he was supposed to be going in, but walking seemed to be the best option, carefully stepping over whatever scrub he could, trying to keep from brushing up against plant life and overall storming along until the farmhouse came into sight. ]
strangelic: (Considerate)

[personal profile] strangelic 2016-03-05 12:10 am (UTC)(link)
[ Since Dean was choosing the right direction, Cas just followed right in his tracks, perhaps not being quite as careful to avoid touching the undergrowth. He wasn't good at the stealth thing; he hadn't had a Bobby to teach him how to move silently through the forest, and when he'd wanted to stalk wildlife to enjoy watching them move around, he'd been able to do so invisibly, without ever touching the earth.

So this was not his strong suit. He crunched things, and he swished things, and really what he needed most was a crash course in being subtle.

But here the farmhouse came now, and he reached up to touch Dean's shoulder.
]

There's bodies around the door. They seem restless.
kickingand: (pic#10069139)

[personal profile] kickingand 2016-03-06 01:37 pm (UTC)(link)
[ While Dean would've normally had no issue with Cas being overly obtuse, he was still almost inclined to turn around and tell the angel that he really needed to pay attention to the level of noise he was making. Granted, Dean wasn't actually over sensitive himself to the whole thing, but even he had to wonder if Cas was noticing the way he seemed to brush up against every single green, leafy life form.

Really, dude, hush up. Really.

Except by the time he was annoyed enough about the whole thing, they were coming up on the farmhouse and he slowed to a halt, turning halfway to face Cas with the hand on his shoulder.
]

Cas, I think they're always gonna be restless.