- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
((Sorry guys for this was rushed. I hope it is an alright starter!))
The time claimed the sun was high up the sky, shining it's rays that would bring a bright day... Yet it's rays shined on a dark, post apocalyptic world that was leaving it's nuclear winter, unbeknownst to it's inhabitants. Despite the gray, merciless life of the metro, there is still a flare, one that was bright enough to show the way. That flare we know as hope, hope that the younger ones will be able to live the ways of the old world once more. Unfortunately, human kind has not learned from it's mistakes yet, and war comes yet again on top of all the nightmares they already live in.
---
L'efant Plaza
The sizable station was rather bustling with metro dwellers like usual. People both normal or abnormal walked the tracks or the platform where makeshift shelters were built either for trade or to establish a more permanent home. Many people were not from the station though, and they could be spotted out by the west gate where a line of carts and man made transportation started building up. At the end of the line, a couple armed men stood at the gate, refusing to let anyone through. One of them was the center of attention it seemed, a ranger whose token he wore around his neck read the name 'Wilson Fillmoore'
"Why are you not letting us through? Can't you see we need to get to the metro center?!" One of the more impatient refugees exclaimed, one who was fleeing the war. "Some of my family was in that group that went in! What do you care if I get killed?!" He wasn't the only one, but the only thing stopping him was the furred individual's word and the station militia who had guns ready for the worst.
"Like I said.." Wilson replied, trying his best to keep his serene, professional tone. "There is a bandit blockade down the line. The sooner I can ensure nobody will move down towards the Smithsonian station the sooner I can deal with the situation myself." He said it with confidence, and like a ranger he had the mind to follow his word, but even he knew he couldn't take on a station of god knows what alone... He didn't even know how many guys with guns were down there.
"They could be selling those people off to slave traders right now! Just move you ignorant animal and let us protect our own!" With that the angered man stormed into the crowd, and those who were observing started speaking among each other in hushed whispers. Tensions were starting to rise, and this crowd will ultimately want to break through, like cattle breaking past a fence to run into a herd of wolves.
The time claimed the sun was high up the sky, shining it's rays that would bring a bright day... Yet it's rays shined on a dark, post apocalyptic world that was leaving it's nuclear winter, unbeknownst to it's inhabitants. Despite the gray, merciless life of the metro, there is still a flare, one that was bright enough to show the way. That flare we know as hope, hope that the younger ones will be able to live the ways of the old world once more. Unfortunately, human kind has not learned from it's mistakes yet, and war comes yet again on top of all the nightmares they already live in.
---
L'efant Plaza
The sizable station was rather bustling with metro dwellers like usual. People both normal or abnormal walked the tracks or the platform where makeshift shelters were built either for trade or to establish a more permanent home. Many people were not from the station though, and they could be spotted out by the west gate where a line of carts and man made transportation started building up. At the end of the line, a couple armed men stood at the gate, refusing to let anyone through. One of them was the center of attention it seemed, a ranger whose token he wore around his neck read the name 'Wilson Fillmoore'
"Why are you not letting us through? Can't you see we need to get to the metro center?!" One of the more impatient refugees exclaimed, one who was fleeing the war. "Some of my family was in that group that went in! What do you care if I get killed?!" He wasn't the only one, but the only thing stopping him was the furred individual's word and the station militia who had guns ready for the worst.
"Like I said.." Wilson replied, trying his best to keep his serene, professional tone. "There is a bandit blockade down the line. The sooner I can ensure nobody will move down towards the Smithsonian station the sooner I can deal with the situation myself." He said it with confidence, and like a ranger he had the mind to follow his word, but even he knew he couldn't take on a station of god knows what alone... He didn't even know how many guys with guns were down there.
"They could be selling those people off to slave traders right now! Just move you ignorant animal and let us protect our own!" With that the angered man stormed into the crowd, and those who were observing started speaking among each other in hushed whispers. Tensions were starting to rise, and this crowd will ultimately want to break through, like cattle breaking past a fence to run into a herd of wolves.