[Intro Log #3] SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM.

[oasismods]

INTRO LOG #03

Dropship The new dropship touches down during the evening when the sky is beginning to get dark. It lands further out than usual, where the greenery and trees taper off into the desert sand. The most surprising thing about the ship's landing is that it does - in fact - land in one piece. It leaves the same crater beneath it as the others have, but there is no sheared metal or bent in portions of the ship to show that something has gone awry. There is simply the ship, groaning as it cools from its re-entry into the atmosphere. Despite the best landing so far, the power has failed aside from flashing alarm lights and an annoying warning sounding off every couple seconds. The shock doesn't end there, the mysterious voice that Han Solo had contacted kept his... promise... instead of packages of trail mix there are boxes and boxes of cheese. On the foremost box is a note and written on it: "HAVE A LITTLE CHEESE WITH YOUR WHINE." Next to the boxes of cheese are stacks and stacks of canned spam. Delicious. There is only a single person on the dropship but he is supplied with the typical backpack. What's different is the .22 tucked safely inside next to a box of bullets. Inside the box of bullets there is an additional note, in different handwriting: "broadcast your needs." Cryptic but promising to anyone that knows what's going on. Someone was feeling merciful apparently. The Welcome Party All possible exits to the ship are closed, and if Carl feel like he's strong enough he can try to pry one of the doors open, but someone seems to get the same idea. Suddenly something is wedged between the door and where it lies before it's wrenched with a twisting metal noise. Then another crowbar is wedged far enough in to cause a gap that's quickly filled with a hook. Then another, and another. The same process. It takes a long time, but then the revving of an engine, a far too pleased yell and the door is yanked from its home. Confetti pops and sounds, falling from a small space near the top of the door - another mockery from the man who left the harsher note, no doubt - that distracts the sudden strangers that are poking their heads into the ship, and staring up like they've been shown the light through their masks. The hatchets in their hands make it clear they're not there for hugs. Besides the bandits, the drop-zone around the ship is completely silent, not a single infected in sight. It's like they're all busy with something else.

Navigation Network | Logs | OOC Taken Characters | Reserves | Applications | Activity Check Rules | Setting | Locations | FAQs | Deaths | Wanted | Hiatus | Drop Item Request | Plot Suggestions | Navigation

Comments

[dirtyredneck]

Yeah. There's only about fifteen of us, counting you.

[He snorted in a rare chance at amusement to Carl's protest. Made the trip out to the ship worth it.]

Come on, let's get this done.

[nokidstuff]

Only fifteen?

[Whoa. He wasn't expecting such a large number, even including himself and Carol, Glenn, and Maggie. He moves though to continue packing whatever he can.]

'Kay. Moving on it.

[Seems to make sense to switch between grabbing cheese and spam, until his backpack is full.]