[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

OTA

[nokidstuff]

Arrival - fresh to the outskirts of the oasis. send help?
[Huh. Wha- wha- what.

Truth is that's the clearest thought Carl Grimes can come up with from the moment his awareness seems to be working for him again. But really how can you blame him when he doesn't know how he came to be in a strange metal craft in the place first. He was home with his baby sister just a minute ago as far as he remembers, and now he wasn't.

The sudden change of scenery alone causes him to panic and scramble around his surroundings, first eyeing the spam and cheese strangely and then picking up the backpack to search through. All the contents inside the bag are mostly ignored since he digs for what he can see is the most useful thing first. It's a good thing too as it seems like just when he finds the .22 in his bag, there is already the noise of strangers outside working to pull off the door.

Thankfully it takes them a long time to accomplish that as Carl knows the sounds of strangers outside doesn't necessarily mean friends who have come to help and at least has the time to gather his wits about him. That said, he snaps his head to the door and pushes aside all his confusion and afraid feelings, the ones that were just about to sink in, to do what he knows best:

Act. Survive at all costs. Do something. In case he's right about the people outside not being his friends. (You get the idea.)

He fishes out the gun and some bullets, dropping the bag to load the weapon, and then waits to see if he's facing friend or foe. When the door finally does go down, he takes a deep breathe, finger waiting just off the trigger because he's not sure who or what he'll see.

(It's safe to assume he fires at the bandits with the hatchets and scary masks.)]

Timeskip to the Wall and City
[A part of him still couldn't believe the state of things he saw when he passes under the wall, but he couldn't deny his own two eyes; the City at first sight was in ruin compared to his home, whatever side of the world it was on, he thought. Everything was almost dusty at a glance and covered with overgrown plants.

Honestly, Carl was shocked, but at the same time almost mesmerized with taking in it all. People really lived here and thrived, he asked himself quietly in his head, and knew they did. The faces and clothing of some people, none of which he really recognized, hinted at that much as he continued walking forward.

It felt weird being like the new kid on the block all over again so with some people he comes into eye contact with, he smiles a little nervously, while only sometimes averting his eyes, in an effort to be somewhat friendly. If he's learned one thing by now after all, it's that not everyone who survives is bad.]

Wildcard
[Feel free to change up a little to scenario a or b above, or make your own. Not sure what's okay? PM me. It's all cool.]

OTA

[dirtyredneck]

Spam in the place where I live now~
With the cannibals dead, and the ship emptied, all that was left was to go through and bring the supplies dropped with it back to the city. The spam was met with a raised eyebrow, but not one that was disapproving. Daryl actually liked the shit. Growing up where and how he did, it had pretty much been a staple of the dinner table when hunting wasn't good. And it kept pretty damn well, too.

The cheese was more the problem. It wouldn't keep and the assholes that sent the food down had sent way more cheese than they had spam. At least the trail mix kept reasonably well.

Daryl picked up one of the cheese bricks, looked at it, and dropped it with a muttered, "smartass."

For Clarke
The presence of the woman had not been lost on Daryl and while he couldn't claim to know her, he did remember seeing her briefly the night her ship had crashed. Minho had joined his group then. And the other two had ran off. He suspected they'd joined up with Lexa, but hadn't been able to verify that. With the woman having come around to the ship and subsequently helped save Carl from the bandits that had piled on, Daryl didn't have much reason to be all that suspicious of her.

She seemed like good people.

So after getting a decent headcount of the supplies they could strip from the ship, Daryl made his way to her. He nodded his head in greeting and opened up with: "You gonna take some of the cheese?"