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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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it doesn’t stop the pile of bodies from striking ever fresh memory of home, though. piles of bodies, cranks ripping into people, into themselves, eating them. the desolate places in the scorch, where the bloated corpses were just left out to bake in the sun. the stench of it.
and the blood on his hands now. he’d had the knife newt gave him to fight, and it required getting fairly close, and while his clothes already had blood and dirt and carbon dust staining them, these are fresh. once all the bodies that were going to rise were taken care of, he’d run for a stream, jumping into it to try to clean all of it from him. but some lingers, still, in the lines of his hands, underneath his fingernails.
he’s picking at it, more an idle action, as his eyes watch the bodies gamora’s moving, sat on the ground with legs bent, forearms draped on his knees, looking entirely too tense for comfort. if you watch closely, he’s shaking, and the red rimming his eyes isn’t just from lack of decent rest. ]
We should leave them. [ he answers, voice tight. ] Climb the walls instead.
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[ Whoever everyone may be, or if there are ever any more everyones, and so on. Gamora alone could scale a wall, sure, but could he even manage it? He looked fairly young, too, not unlike Athena, if a bit older. For that, at least, she can forgive the shaking she notices, even at a distance.
This isn't something she should be asking of children, even she knows that. So, in this case, she only shakes her head and turns back to her grim task alone. ]
Stay over there. Keep watch on the treeline instead. [ A safer option, though what she expects to come from there, who knows. ] We don't know what else might be around here.
LMFAO LOOK MAN HE'S HAD A BAD TIME OK
[ he's also said it because it's driving him nuts looking at these bodies, or just being around them, but he's keeping that to himself. he's seen worse, but just the quiet of it, maybe, is getting under his skin. he could make it over the wall, he can make it through all the rest of this, he can stay alive and keep his friends alive. but he won't pretend there's not something seriously fucked up here, and he won't act like it doesn't affect him. ]
You're handling infected corpses. Not that it matters if it's airborne.
[ they would've gotten it during the fight already. hell, maybe just walking around the jungle. not spoken in a defeatist attitude, there's nothing thomas loathes more than deciding your doomed before you even try, just matter-of-factly. he wants to know what this is, how it spread, why they were sent here without anything to try, who even knows, fixing it? colonizing? to what end, it's still here, whatever ruined this place.
pushing himself up, he turns to look towards the trees, as asked, knife pulled free at his side. it's better this way anyway, with his back to the corpses. this won't be it. he knows that. ]
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[ They've been fighting them. Continued exposure may make it worse, but, in Gamora's case? She isn't worried. She can't even remember the last time she caught anything and she isn't about to begin worrying now (of course, she should worry, but she doesn't know that).
Regardless, she's making short work of what's left in front of the gates. It won't be long before they can pry the gates open.
Still, considering how the poor boy looked, she could still find it in her to ask while she worked, ]
Did you get hurt in the fight?
[ more or less her "are you okay", okay ]
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[ or biting and scratching, which Newt said about the Flare in his world. freaking weird, that. how could it have spread so fast only traveling that way? well, it's not like cranks made themselves easy to avoid. he's mindful of the treeline as she works, watching closely, keeping his mind busy with it. it gives him so peace, at least. enough to settle himself some.
when she speaks up, he shifts, peering over a shoulder at her, and then looks down over himself, checking for any injuries he might have sustained. there's still blood stains that'd soaked in at home on his shirt and jacket, damage here and there, but none of it recent. ]
No. I'm fine. Did you?
[ he turns fully, brow furrowing some in concern. ]
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[ Gamora? Get hurt? They were gross, but also barely coordinated. She imagines that she could have held still and most of them would have missed anyway. Moving on, next body on the pile, then back for another. ]
I only wanted to know, since you looked so shaken. I've been told once someone catches this virus, they need to be killed. [ Another body tossed away from the gate. ] Though I'm glad I won't be killing you, in that case.
[ Mostly because she balks at offing a kid. She'd still do it, mind, but it would suck. ]