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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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no subject
[She turns to look at him with both of her eyebrows raised. She wasn't programmed to tell when people are lying and even now she has no idea that he's hiding something from her. She's just grateful to have a name to call him.]
Jimmy who travels with Dean. Jimmy, Dean. I'll remember that.
[Her eyes go back to the shelves and she tosses old containers that are falling apart to the floor. Her eyes are on the shelf itself now, a loose part. Her hands grip hold of it and she tugs as hard as she can. The broken metal part tears off and she's left with a nice secondary weapon. In case anything happens to her knife. It goes right into her backpack.]
Do either of you have a weapon yet?
no subject
I have a blade. Dean is unarmed.
[ And then, carefully, he finishes taking that step forward, approaching the shelves. ]
Not much seems to have been left behind.
no subject
[Which makes her wonder how long everything has been sitting here.
She doesn't think Jimmy will find a weapon for his friend here. So she opens her backpack and hands him over her piece of shelf.]
Give this to Dean. He can use it until he finds something better.
no subject
[ He accepts it, with another soft smile, though he seems to struggle for a moment with where to put it. In the end he just tucks it inside his coat, which seems to do because it doesn't fall on the floor a second later. ]
It must have been terrible, what happened to these people.
no subject
[Her response is immediate and curt. She doesn't want to think about how these people died or how they're able to get up and attack. It's a frightening concept to her and the whole thing makes her skittish.]
We have to figure out what happened though. To make sure it doesn't happen to us too.
no subject
[ He pauses, suddenly grim and serious, and looks over the room, checking out the others within sight of them both. ]
There are people here who can think about those kind of things, instead. It's what they do.
[ What we do, he wanted to say, except that it isn't any more. It can't be. His intervention always ends in death. ]
no subject
[Her tone raises a little. Like she's offended he'd suggest that she doesn't worry just because she looks young.]
I've crash landed someplace where the dead aren't actually dead at all and survival looks increasingly improbable. I can't do anything except for worry.