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[Intro Log #01] Enjoy your new vacation home
| INTRO LOG #01 |
The Crash  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. 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  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." "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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[Daryl snarled, pointing back at the walker.]
Mine's stuck in the other and that one needs to die. Again.
[And with as sturdy as some of the skulls had been so far, Daryl didn't really want to hurt his foot stomping a few heads in. Not before they'd cleared out enough of the lurkers to get through the gates.]
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Grab your blade, King Arthur. I'll watch your back.
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You always this friendly, Captain Caveman?
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Only on Thursdays. You always so-- [ He waggled the fingers of his free hand. ] --handsy?
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[Daryl was only so-so impressed with Quill's ability to smash a couple heads in. Especially when there were still plenty to go around.]
Don't move.
[It was all the warning Quill got before Daryl flipped his knife, brought it up, and threw it past Quill's shoulder. There was a very satisfying, wet, thunk as it buried into the eye of the walker that had just dragged itself upright. Killing it quite effectively.
With a satisfied smirk, Daryl parroted:]
Movement behind you.
[Then started to jog past so he could retrieve his knife yet again. He really missed his crossbow.]
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But like hell was Peter going to give the guy the satisfaction of a compliment, if he was gonna be so smug about it. ]
In my defense-- [ It's punctuated by another swing of his branch, when a corpse decides to grab at Peter's ankle. ] --I don't have a single fly or pom-pom, so I resent that remark.
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[Daryl snapped even as the branch came down on the thing's head. It was more an automatic thing than any real concern about the other man. Daryl didn't know him and his loss wouldn't put another gash in his heart. But they weren't enemies, either. And another body that could handle itself was useful.
To the rest of Quill's commentary, Daryl just snorted.]
You don't got the legs for the skirt anyway.
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[ He pauses for breath, taking stock of the situation. No movement for now, but that could change at any second; while they have a second to breathe, Peter wipes at his brow with the back of his hand. ]
--What'd you call it just now? A lurker?
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[Daryl nodded toward the one that had reached out for Quill.]
The one's that ain't strong enough to move much and just lay there, the ones that lurk. They're walkers, too. Just... Easier to call 'em by what they do if they ain't up and moving around. Swimmers, floaters, they're the ones that get stuck in water and bloat up like pus balls ready to pop.
[Daryl wiped his knife on his sleeve and re-sheathed it for the time being since movement had stopped and they were taking a breather.]
Gotta take out the brain to make 'em stop moving.
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So what you're sayin' is, you've seen shit like this before?
[ Said with a touch of disbelief in his voice. He hissed out a breath. ]
That's-- kind of messed up, buddy.
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[More messed up than you know.]
I take it you ain't from around here?
[There were more than a few at this point that had no knowledge of walkers. He got a feeling he'd be having to give this lesson a lot more than he'd like.]
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[ Or, well, he certainly wasn't from here, wherever the hell here was.
But maybe he was from here, as in the planet. He kept seeing things that reminded him of Earth -- the trees and the plants, for instance, and he's pretty sure he saw a squirrel dart around a corner at some point -- but Peter clung to the hope that this was just another alien planet in some alien system in some alien part of the galaxy.
It's nice to dream. ]
Where I'm from, the dead stay dead.
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[Daryl turned his head at the sound of another pile of bodies shifting, put his hand on his knife, took a deep breath, and got back to it. Luckily a lot of the bodies were already dead dead. But that made the lurkers all the more dangerous.]
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Are you at least gonna tell me where the hell we are?
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[He called back over his shoulder, knife coming out. He stomped hard on a head that was just emerging from the pile, not really crushing it, but doing enough damage that when he bent over to bring the knife down into it, there wasn't so much as a crunch, as there was a loud pop.]
Never been to this part of the world before.
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In any case, Peter hesitated before asking his next question: ]
You know what planet we're on, then?
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He yanked his knife free, took a deep breath and let out it in what was clearly an exasperated sigh before calling back over.]
Earth. It's a planet called Earth.
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Shit.
It was the only coherent thought he had, really. Shit, shit, shit, accompanied by a few flashes of fuck and goddammit. That was exactly what he had been afraid of. ]
When the hell did this-- [ Ah, just a moment. A twitch of movement caught Peter's eye, and he decided to take a second to let out some of his anger to smash an infected's head in. ]
What the hell happened?
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Virus. Spread like wildfire. Only took a few weeks once it went global. World went to shit and ain't likely to recover. Not to the way it was.
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If it's that bad, how'd you survive? How come you're not like-- [ He gestured to the pile of corpses. ] --that?
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[Daryl snapped, looking at Peter like he was. A moment later his shoulders dropped and shook his head.]
Everyone's infected. It's dormant or something. But it's inside ya already. When you die, or you get bit, that's when it wakes up. Spreads. Fever'll kill you and if there's no one around to do what's needed, you'll get back up and start looking for your next meal.
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Peter looks none too impressed with that glare or the tone of voice, but given what everyone has been through today, he let it slide without comment; it certainly helped that Peter had a pretty thick skin. (You're on watch, though, Starshine.) ]
And it's like this everywhere? No cure or-- I dunno, a vaccine or something?
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Cheerful.
[ He took a breath, shaking himself physically to get himself out of his head. Worrying about Gramps or his aunts and uncles, wondering if they were reduced to this-- it wasn't going to help him right now, was it? ]
What's your name, anyway?
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[He tossed a considering look toward the man.]
From Georgia. Around Sedalia way.
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