The Last Frontier

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Apollyon, May 23, 2015.

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  1. Location: North Cadabury, U.S 302nd Infantry ( Outpost Lima)
    Player: Calamity
    Character: Aiden Kingsley

    “In the blink of an eye, it all ended. Within the moment it too to take that last breath, we failed ourselves as a species. What we saw in ourselves, I may never know. Perhaps this was always the outcome to be. Perhaps we were destined to fail. To fall, alone and in the dark with only our greed and arrogance to comfort us. I know that, as I write these words and future generations read them--I can only say how truly sorry I am. I may have not made the decision that brought you to the this precipice, I may not have authorized lighting the skies on fire. But I as a human being, bear that sin, as do you and for that I am sorry.

    I know you are but one, meandering and struggling to find your way in this now despoiled world. But you are a cell, a living testament of something much greater than just yourself. This is my testimony; I have nothing left. My wife, my child perished in the initial attacks. By some cruelty I am left, staggeringly, alone. Know that I don't write this to solve the world’s current state; the air is as toxic now as it will be for generations to come. It was dark in the day as it is darker still at night. The sun lies just beyond unbreachable cloud; shining so bright, what we took for granted now is unattainable. For every ray, falls a radioactive snowflake in the form of ash.

    The countless thousands of millions, snuffed out in an instant; time stopped for them. Their passing, etched into the very surface of the concrete upon with they strolled every day. Shadows of children holding their parent's hands--burned into stone. It make me cry whenever I come across some lost soul carved into the side of a building--because then I wonder was it as fast as that for them? For my beautiful wife and my darling little girl? Or did a much more sinister route take place instead?

    I can't help it I'm a weak man; I grovel on my knees and I beg with tears in my eyes. Eyes that burned, lungs that agonize and a heart that aches. For I shall never know and that's what hurt's the most..."

    Aiden looked over the pages through the ash covered twin visors. A faint blue light from his LED flashlight pouring over the pages of words scribbled down. Most were legible, however, the last half page or so the author must've died in the attempt to make sense of his own thoughts. They weren't as coherent as the rest was. Despite the book's value being worthless, he tucked it away in his gear vest. He pointed the light down at the skeletal remains of what was presumably the author in question.

    He crouched down slow in in front of the corpse. He had been long dead. The bones nearly picked clean by rats and other creatures. No telling what he looked like originally. Captivated, Aiden's eyes scanned over the slack-jawed skull.

    "Whatever happened to them old man, you're with them now. Be thankful." He then stood up and lifted his AK-12 and attached the light to the fixture along the underside of the barrel.

    Leaning around the dark corner, arms up, rifle poised to fire--Aiden stepped carefully forwards through the refuse of what used to be an outpost during the Invasion of 2025. History got a little blurry as to just who was invading, but supposedly there was a decent stock pile left behind. It was what the duffle bag slung over his right shoulder for. These days, these parts were known for their "Infestations". That was former human beings, twisted and mutated into mindless ghouls that hungered for flesh.

    They preferred it to be fresh; Aiden knew too well how ravenous they were over it. Even a something as cute and cuddly as a lab mouse was like fine dining to them. Their gnarled, chipped teeth and slobbery mouths could shred meat and--with enough bites-- shear bone ragged. But these weren't their main threat. The main threat was the sheer volume of numbers. Trying to fight of twenty or thirty of these aberrations was fair game given the right equipment. Only thing was, there was always more. There were only so many bullets in a clip and it was impossible to get head-shots each and every-time.

    So if you did spot one, it was best you take it down quick, and more fittingly--quietly.
  2. “Your hand is steadier than it used to be.” Sonya paused at what she was doing just long enough for her to glance back towards the raspy voice of the man at the lamp lit doorway. She tossed a quick smile before turning back to the boy sitting on what used to be someone’s dining room table. The young blonde was trying so hard not to cry out as the needle pierced his skin again and again. Near the table, what Sonya could only assume was the boys little sister, or another relation with a strong resemblance, was being entertained by her own ward. Sonya was quiet for most of the stitching, only asking questions that were relevant. The woman wanted to ask where his parents where, but she had the feeling that they were no longer in the picture. The brunette glanced up at the blonde again, giving him a soft reassuring smile. The same smile that so often got her into a heap of trouble.

    “Almost done.” She murmured at him. The woman had been walking towards where she and Lily was living when she had heard the younger girl making a fuss. When the brunette had ducked into the ally the two blonde children were curled up next to what used to be a dumpster, the boy was bleeding from his upper leg. Sonya had hesitated for just a few seconds before she had brought the children back with her. It had taken a few minutes to convince the boy that she didn’t have any plans on hurting either of them, but the girl had jumped at the thought of the boy being fixed up. After, Sonya brought the pair back and introduced them to her current companions, her mentor, Gregory, and her ward, little Lily. Gregory when he first laid eyes on them knew without a doubt that neither children would be able to pay for the medical attention. Just as he knew that Sonya wouldn’t be letting either of said children leave without care and full bellies. So the aged man just gave his favored pupil a sad little smile.

    “You’ll have to pay.” He reminded her quietly. Sonya just gave him her own smile back with a nod before ushering the blonde pair into the house and towards the room she and Lily shared. Lily, bless the young girl’s soul, had immediately taken the younger blonde girl’s attention away with the offer to play with Lily’s stuffed unicorn.
    Sonya pulled the last stitch through before tying off it off.

    Now that part’s done.” She informed the room at large before she got up and walked a couple feet to the aged dresser, pulling open the top drawer and pulling out a handful of clean rags. She knelt back down before the boy and began to wrap the stitching.

    I’m going to give you some extra rags.” She looked up, her face going stern. “You’re going to need to do your best to keep this clean until it’s all healed up, understand?” She asked, meekly, the boy nodded bright blue eyes glancing at her then back down. “Good boy.” The smile came back, like a soft ray of sunlight piercing through the ever falling ash.

    Before you leave, I’m sure the two of you are hungry.” She continued as did calculations in the back of her head. She’d give each child two of her meals worth of food. If she did that, she’d be eating only two meals for four days. But she’d survived off of less before. Sonya turned away from the boy again, this time taking in the empty doorway. Old Gregory must’ve gone to do something else; to attend one of the two patients staying overnight, or perhaps to give instructions to one of his three pupils.

    Sonya and Lily had been with Gregory the past four years. For those four years what once was a brilliant, award-winning doctor had passed as much knowledge as he could onto not only Sonya but two others. Sonya had absorbed the information, read every book the older man had instructed and followed his words as if he was a preacher and she one of his devoted clergy. Meeting the man four years ago had been a godsend for the honey-eyed woman. She’d been an aspiring a pediatrician before, and even during the war. However after things went beyond the point of sanity, she had almost given up hope; life would be impossible and the only thing left to do was to survive until a grisly end met you and took you to peace. So when she met the doctor, watched him save someone on what could only be the precipice of death, it was as a saving light. Hope filled her world once again. Under his wing she could help people, maybe install that same light of hope into those she came across. She clung to that.

    A few hours later, Sonya was seeing off the two blonde children. They had refused to stay overnight, but had taken the food with them. Sonya continued to wave and smile until the two small figures turned into an ally and disappeared from sight. The brunettes smile faded as her mind raced. She’d probably never see the pair again.

    “Sonya?” Lilly small voice beckoned her back into the depths of the house. After another moment, the woman turned and gave the child a smile before closing the door against the darkness of the outside.
  3. Aiden leaned out from around a darkened corner; arms pulled tight as he gripped the assault rifle by both the grip and the forward grip under the barrel. The stock positioned squarely against his shoulder as he moved as quietly as he could through the eerily abandoned streets of a former military base. The devastation from the invasion still felt visceral and real in the 'expression' of shattered windows; curtains left flailing in the wind like widow's arms reaching out for him. The doors of houses left ajar, leaving an impending sense of danger around every corner. As though behind every door, lie in waiting one of those aberrations of humankind's darkest hours.

    He' seen them up close. It was a near fatal encounter, one that made him chose to maim himself or die. He chose the former, and now he had serious trust issues and was a fatalistic person because of it. One simply did what one could to survive, and that was all there was to it. That was all there was anymore. Anything more than that, was a fleeting hope. It was like waking from a dream; it was still kinda fuzzy. It lingered, but in the end, you knew it wasn't real. There was an 'ecosystem' in the world. There were people that survived, and those that didn't.

    Granted, Aiden wasn't so far gone from his humanity that he was like drug addled raiders or cannibals. And he had too much reasoning to be a ghoul. His arm was a synthetic one. He had to severe his left arm and use it as bait to draw away the feral mob that had ran him ragged once upon a time. Because of that event, he knew there was no going back to the way things "used to be". That world was long dead and gone. In the wake of it's destruction was borne this hellish world. One of terminal radiation sickness, and violence.

    Aiden spotted one of the feral ones, and in sneaking up--lashed out with his automated arm. The hand gripped the rotten flesh, peeling it from the bleached bone. But more than that, the metal fingers latched on and lunged forwards crushing the skull of the ghoul by smashing it into a nearby wall. It was quick and effective, and no bullets were used in the attempt. He neared the vault of the base, but first he would need to gain access. Not entirely an easy thing to do, but it wasn't impossible. He did have some hacking skills after all. In the business he was in, you pretty much needed it to gain entry into vaults like these...

    He stepped up to the terminal, pulling out the keyboard with one hand, he let the rifle relax against his armored kevlar vest. A green monochromatic screen flickered on, showing a plethora of various words, one being the key. The trick was deducing which one it was because you only had four chances before it locked you out of the system. And without administrator approval that was like breaking a lock pick in the lock.

    The terminal essentially, would become useless.

    Fortunately, he'd come prepared. See if someone wanted him to break into a vault and bring its contents back--they would first have to do several things, one being sign a contract telling suppliers how much food rations he would get,the doctors would be informed that he would probably need a check up once he got back (if he got back.), and finally they would usually give him a holotape recording of what the password was supposed to be. This was all fine and dandy if the damn things worked proper, but having survived a nuclear fallout (Which shocked him at times.) there was no guarantee and so you had to decode the password usually by selecting a word with several letters being in proper order. This amount was usually 8, however, he'd run across a few that were up to twelve.

    A pain in the fucking ass for sure.

    "Let's see here..." Aiden murmured to himself quietly, his eyes moving in discontinuous and jerky movements as he glanced over the screen with focus.


    "Price..?" He questioned.

    Entry Denied
    0/5 Correct

    3 Attempt(s) Left:

    "Tires." He said clicking the said word.

    Entry Denied
    2/5 Correct

    2 Attempt(s) Left :

    "Hmm," The length of the words was determined by the difficulty of the lock. If you didn't guess correctly, the terminal will display "x/y correct" where x is the number of correct letters, and y is the word length. A letter is correct only if it is in the right spot.

    For example, if the password was "RELEASED" and you chose "DETECTOR" then you would be told that there are 2/8 correct because there are 'E's in the 2nd and 4th place for both. The words have other letters in common, like 'R', but it is in the first spot in one word, and the last in the other. It was very similar to an ages old board game called "Mastermind".

    "Texas..." He inquired.

    Entry Denied
    2/5 Correct

    1 Attempt(s) Left:

    "Terms." He said steadfastly. Eyes narrowing.

    Entry Granted
    5/5 Correct

    The doors to the locked robotics manufacturer 'clicked' as the bolts that had barred them shut for years slid back leaving him to freely venture forwards; re-positioning his weapon against one of his shoulders, he took to the forward grip locking it in place. His other hand slid over the pistol grip, finger aligning with the trigger guard as he moved forwards, reaching out to push the door open and enter.

    When he entered he was greeted by a half dozen hungry, ghoulish faces. He sighed, relaxing his shoulders. The only thought on his mind?


    He immediately opened fired, striking one in the head and the next in the torso with the three-round burst, and grabbed a third with his pneumatic arm catching it by the face. Its teeth breaking as it tried to devour the sleek black magnesium-alloy prosthetic which was lighter than aluminum but stronger than titanium. He quickly shoved the ghoul's cranium against a near by stone pillar crushing the entire backside of its head as he continued o fire in short, concise bursts.

    After all was said and done, a heap lay on the ground around him as he quickly changed mags, placing the used one along the backside of his vest to differentiate from full clips that were attached to the front of his vest.

    "Wish I could have avoided that," he sighed. "But if that's any indication of what's in here, maybe I should look for the security office first. Maybe they might have automated turrets or senties still active that I can use to make my job a HELL of a lot easier."
    #3 Apollyon, May 27, 2015
    Last edited: Jun 2, 2015
  4. After going back into the building, Sonya was led back to her and Lily's room. As they went, they passed by several doors, some housed patients behind them, others housed Gregory's students. Sonya still found it a little weird that instead of using the old hospital, or an old clinic, that Gregory had turned this large house into his base of operations. Sure, it was a lot cozier, or as cozy as it could be given the times, but it didn't exactly scream sterile. Not that it matted, people probably didn't care so much about the location, as long as they could get the care that they needed. The old house offered plenty enough room for the practice and for the living quarters of Gregory and his staff. But to the 24 year-old, it was just a weird setting for a medical practice. But it was secure behind the tall brick walls that surrounded it and it was always open for those who needed aid.

    Sonya let her thoughts drift away as the duo ducked into their room and Lilly pulled out her favorite, and only book.
    “Will you read to me for a little bit?” She asked, her young voice as soft as ever. Sonya looked into the younger girl’s eyes, which, for the moment were green and gave a nod.

    I’m still on duty though, so if someone shows up, I might have to stop.” She reminded before settling down onto the double bed and patting the spot next to her. The eight year-old wasted no time in plopping up beside her and handing the book over. “Which one do you want to read tonight?” Sonya asked, although in the back of her mind she wished she could find another book for the young girl.

    Uhmmmm,” Lilly paused and a look of though crossed over her feature before they brightened again, “Alice in Wonderland!” She chirped. Sonya flipped the pages until she found the section that would tell the brief version of Disney’s Alice in Wonderland. Soon, the room was quiet, and then the only sound was Sonyas voice as she read the story that she could probably tell without the use of the book. Lilly listened in captivation, just as she always did, no matter how many times she’d heard the tale.
  5. Location: Unknown, Alaska
    Player: Jack Doyle
    Character: Eric Lance

    He scrounged what little water was left in the bottle. Already he had run dry, faster than he had expected. He returned the container to his small bag. He was surrounded by fields of snowy hills, nearby the mountains ranged to the east and a city was to the west. And he couldn't drink the snow. Since the bombs fell everything, even the water supplies, had become irradiated. But the rain and snow was the worst. Wherever it fell it carried the pollution and the radiation. The land around him was mostly hills, easy cover for other survivors. Just a few miles north was a thicket of trees. There the land rose steadily from hills to mountains.
    He heard an animal call out. A screech of some kind, he guessed it to be a bird. A second bird answered the call. But there weren't no birds. Since the bombs fell most of the wildlife had been killed off by either getting caught in the open or suffering from radiation poisoning. The birds had died off in the early years. Another bird call, more of sqwuark than a screech. But if there were no birds, then what was making those noises? It was people. It had to be. Other survivors, killers and cannibals.
    Eric scrambled. He ran to the bottom of the hill and pressed his body to the ground. The first bird call was to notify someone else that he had been spotted. The second was command. But to do what? To stay and wait for help, or to investigate? The third bird call was a reply to that command. Either they agreed or disagreed. Which meant someone nearby would be doing one of two things: Either coming over to Eric, or regrouping and coming en masse to Eric. He needed to move. Quickly, with haste, but quietly.
    Slowly Eric stood. He had two choices of where to run to. Either he could attempt to make it to the city or run into the mountains. East or west. Which ever direction he had to choose fast.
    "Caw." He heard another bird call. Meaning: This way.
    It came from his left, from the east. Meaning he would have to go west if he wanted to outrun them. Eric began moving. He was sure to keep low, crouching and staying in the dips and notches between the hills. He moved fast. All the while he left a trail through the snow. He knew that they could follow it. He held his gun firmly in one hand as he moved. It was old, over forty years, prone to jamming. He had four bullets. How many of them were there?
    "Ca car." More bird calls. These ones meant: Follow the trail.
    They would be on him soon. The city was about four miles away, over an hours walk. Could be further. Eric didn't even know if he could find cover there but he had to try. He skipped over a creek that had trickled down from the mountains.

    Eric had been running for over twenty minutes and was already feeling tired. His breaths came in short, quick bursts. The land was growing steadily smother as he neared the lowlands. The city was on the coast and the seafront areas had developed into dangerous mudflats that the low tide revealed. He couldn't turn around and fight. A lack of ammunition or a lack courage, take your pick. But it was becoming too difficult to keep running.
    "I need... To hide..." he said to himself in between breaths. "Besides... I could do... With... A lie down..."
    So he planned to do precisely that. He backtracked, careful to only step in his own footprints, until he could hear his pursuers. Eric laid himself down in the snow. Besides the tracks. Pulling mounds of snow over himself, Eric buried himself beneath an ice-cold blanket. It was freezing. Literally. So very damn cold. He began to shiver, his body was rapidly loosing heat. Then he heard the thudding of feet as they passed by. They went out of ear range again. For five minutes, maybe more, it was difficult to tell the time from underneath a wall of snow. Then their loud stomps came by again.
    "He vanished," said one.
    "He couldn' of just vanished," replied a second.
    "But am telling you, he did," insisted the first. "You saw dem tracks. Just gone. Poof."
    "Well he has to be somewhere," stated the second.
    "Obviously he has to be f**king somewhere!" replied the first, letting lose his temper. "But where?!"
    The second scoffed. "How should I know?"
    "Because you're the spotter," answered the first. "You're our damned eyes and ears. You see and you listen. That's what your job is. I'm the chaser and I have to run after 'em. But I can't chase 'em if you can't see 'em."
    "Then maybe you shouldn't of let 'im get so far ahead," replied the second.
    "Are you sayin' that this 'ere is my fault?" asked the first.
    "That's exactly what am sayin'" answered the second. "You told us about dem tracks. You called out, told us to follow the bloody trail of bloody footprints. But you only gone an' bloody lost 'im. Bloody hell. The boss won't like this, not one bit."
    "You watch your tone with me," warned the first.
    Their voices trailed off. Eric had escaped them, hidden from them. He was safe now. Just a little longer, he had to endure the cold a little longer before he could come out. It would do no good to get spotted again. But it was so cold. Wasn't ice meant to act as an insulator? That's why igloos worked so well, right? Eric shivered an awful lot. He could feel the cold seeping into his body, into his limbs, and he couldn't stop the shaking. But at least he was safe for now.
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