My father told me that the first time they called for one of these expeditions, no one expected them to go as bad as I did. Even if a bit apprehensive, people were genuinely curious to see what happened to the rest of the country. Most of the people in the city had been alive before the shit hit the fan, and had hopes for reclaiming lands they used to called home. I was just a baby the first time around, so I only know what he told me.The next time they did it, though, I was around 5 years old, so I can remember a few things fairly vividly.
I can remember my father, angry at the world, just about. He never really directed his anger at me or my mother or anything, but I could tell something was wrong, his usual demeanor was just completely different, as if he gave off a whole new aura or something. That sweet, gentle father I had known had been replaced by this despondent, depressed, gray man. He lost his color. Quite a few times, I walked in on him crying, either alone or in the company of my mother, who this sort of… solemn look on her face. Something akin to sadness mixed with helpless. Thinking of it now, it makes me sick to my stomach. That's been my father for the past 20 years, just about. I see the old him every now and again, mostly in the pictures we have together, but, it's just not how it could, and should, be.
I didn’t really know what was going back then, only that, my parents kept telling me that “Mommy is going to have to go on a work trip.” and that it may be a long time until I saw her next. I felt sad, but I had to be strong for my mom. I remember hearing things calling the expedition “a load of utter horse shit” and “just another way to control the goddamn population.” Whether it be from small bits of conversation I heard on the street, or hearing my parents’ conversation through a locked door or from around a door frame, the general consensus was that this expedition was a “death march.”
It was a rainy morning the last day I saw my mom. My father had me on top of his shoulders, and we both waved back at my mother, who stood amongst other doctors at the top of their huge housing unit. The rain was hard enough to where it was hard to tell who was crying and who wasn’t, but it was safe to say most of us were, including my father. First and last time I ever saw that. Other children, my age and little older, followed suit with me, boarding one of their parent’s shoulders to wave goodbye to the other parent, or some would reach at their mothers and fathers from the sidewalk. I just gave my mother a great big smile, and a thumbs up, and she smiled back. I didn’t notice it back then, but that smile was showered in her tears. My father stood silently, giving a wave and blowing a kiss to my mother. I could feel him tense up when the unit she stood on sprang to life and left the gate. I didn’t know it, but it was the last time I was ever going to see her.
I can remember this underlying sense of rage in all the sadness, in my father especially, but, I was too young to really know why. I figured it was a chore that people didn’t want to do or something, but I know now. I know they all thought they were going to their death. which, in the end, I guess wasn’t too far from the truth. Murmurs of “Damn the Council for pulling this bullshit again.” or “What the fuck is the Council thinking trying this again.” ran rampant through the crowd there, and I could remember hearing them for weeks to come.
Soon after she left, Dad had begun to take down pictures of her from around the house. Too much to deal with being reminded of her left and right, I’m sure. I got along fine, the naive confidence that my mother would return keeping me from getting too sad. I managed to snatch a picture of my mother before my father had taken it down, and I kept it hidden in my room, talking to her when I got down, or when I made Dad mad and figured mom could help. I thought he’d get mad if he saw I had it, so I made sure he never found it. Other than that, she slowly began to fade from the forefront of my mind.
I don’t think I’ll forget the day they sent out the third of these damned expeditions. Most people, including my Dad, had taken to calling it “The Annual Death March.” There wasn’t as much a crowd as there was before. It wasn’t raining, and the lack of raindrops oddly correlated with the lack of teardrops. Huddled around the large housing unit that they took were mostly men in white jump suits, chained and shackled. Stood among the various platforms of the unit were prison guards, doctors, and other important looking people, with the rest of them tucked away inside the unit. They waved at the groups of people gathered on the sides of the road as the massive gates to the city opened, and the housing unit began its slow trudging out of the gate, with the men and women around it following suit.
That was the last time I saw those men and women, and that was the last time I can remember them running another Death March. That was the same day I figured out that I wasn’t going to see my mother again. I felt sour, like someone had just taken my favorite toy and smashed it. I missed her for a long time after that, and when I told my father that I knew I wouldn’t see her again, I won’t forget his face. The closest way to describe it was disappointment, like he had let me down. I think it was better that way, in the end. We helped each other through it, and I matured a bit sooner because of it. It was a sobering feeling, ever for a 10 year old. I even showed him the picture I saved. I sometimes wish I hadn’t. Seeing that picture was as if I just pulled the scab the rest of the way off.
The political backlash and civil unrest caused by the third annual Death March was enough to keep another one from happening for the foreseeable, and damn near enough to topple the government. Luckily, the trouble and cost of overthrowing our government these days is a bit too much to deal with considering they weren’t doing much else wrong. Plus this time, instead of sending valuable people like doctors and soldiers, they sent mostly prisoners, with some skilled people mixed in. Pretty fucked up, looking back on it. Pretty much had thrown all those men to the wolves.
Now, though, they’ve called for another Exploration Expedition. And now, it’s my time to go. Maybe I should’ve listened to my father, and been an artist instead of a doctor.
So, in this roleplay, you guys, the characters, are the freshly chosen crew for 2096’s “Exploration Expedition, or known more affectionately by the locals as the Death March. There hasn’t been one in about 15 years, and the last one was a pretty controversial event, and many, many of the city’s inhabitants are still, for the most part, against any expeditions of the sort, including us. We are a mixture of all sorts of skilled persons, such as doctors, soldiers, hunters, anyone that could fit an important and specific roles on, basically, an expedition into completely unknown and uncharted territory. We don’t know how heavily changed or morphed the landscape of the United States can be, so anything is possible, along with monsters and creatures of untold horror. I have a slight backstory and other things that I have decided for the universe, but I wanted to probe for interest before I continued putting a lot of work into. If you have questions, want more information, or are interested in the roleplay, just post here in the thread, and I’ll try to get back to you guys as soon as possible! Thanks for reading!
I can remember my father, angry at the world, just about. He never really directed his anger at me or my mother or anything, but I could tell something was wrong, his usual demeanor was just completely different, as if he gave off a whole new aura or something. That sweet, gentle father I had known had been replaced by this despondent, depressed, gray man. He lost his color. Quite a few times, I walked in on him crying, either alone or in the company of my mother, who this sort of… solemn look on her face. Something akin to sadness mixed with helpless. Thinking of it now, it makes me sick to my stomach. That's been my father for the past 20 years, just about. I see the old him every now and again, mostly in the pictures we have together, but, it's just not how it could, and should, be.
I didn’t really know what was going back then, only that, my parents kept telling me that “Mommy is going to have to go on a work trip.” and that it may be a long time until I saw her next. I felt sad, but I had to be strong for my mom. I remember hearing things calling the expedition “a load of utter horse shit” and “just another way to control the goddamn population.” Whether it be from small bits of conversation I heard on the street, or hearing my parents’ conversation through a locked door or from around a door frame, the general consensus was that this expedition was a “death march.”
It was a rainy morning the last day I saw my mom. My father had me on top of his shoulders, and we both waved back at my mother, who stood amongst other doctors at the top of their huge housing unit. The rain was hard enough to where it was hard to tell who was crying and who wasn’t, but it was safe to say most of us were, including my father. First and last time I ever saw that. Other children, my age and little older, followed suit with me, boarding one of their parent’s shoulders to wave goodbye to the other parent, or some would reach at their mothers and fathers from the sidewalk. I just gave my mother a great big smile, and a thumbs up, and she smiled back. I didn’t notice it back then, but that smile was showered in her tears. My father stood silently, giving a wave and blowing a kiss to my mother. I could feel him tense up when the unit she stood on sprang to life and left the gate. I didn’t know it, but it was the last time I was ever going to see her.
I can remember this underlying sense of rage in all the sadness, in my father especially, but, I was too young to really know why. I figured it was a chore that people didn’t want to do or something, but I know now. I know they all thought they were going to their death. which, in the end, I guess wasn’t too far from the truth. Murmurs of “Damn the Council for pulling this bullshit again.” or “What the fuck is the Council thinking trying this again.” ran rampant through the crowd there, and I could remember hearing them for weeks to come.
Soon after she left, Dad had begun to take down pictures of her from around the house. Too much to deal with being reminded of her left and right, I’m sure. I got along fine, the naive confidence that my mother would return keeping me from getting too sad. I managed to snatch a picture of my mother before my father had taken it down, and I kept it hidden in my room, talking to her when I got down, or when I made Dad mad and figured mom could help. I thought he’d get mad if he saw I had it, so I made sure he never found it. Other than that, she slowly began to fade from the forefront of my mind.
I don’t think I’ll forget the day they sent out the third of these damned expeditions. Most people, including my Dad, had taken to calling it “The Annual Death March.” There wasn’t as much a crowd as there was before. It wasn’t raining, and the lack of raindrops oddly correlated with the lack of teardrops. Huddled around the large housing unit that they took were mostly men in white jump suits, chained and shackled. Stood among the various platforms of the unit were prison guards, doctors, and other important looking people, with the rest of them tucked away inside the unit. They waved at the groups of people gathered on the sides of the road as the massive gates to the city opened, and the housing unit began its slow trudging out of the gate, with the men and women around it following suit.
That was the last time I saw those men and women, and that was the last time I can remember them running another Death March. That was the same day I figured out that I wasn’t going to see my mother again. I felt sour, like someone had just taken my favorite toy and smashed it. I missed her for a long time after that, and when I told my father that I knew I wouldn’t see her again, I won’t forget his face. The closest way to describe it was disappointment, like he had let me down. I think it was better that way, in the end. We helped each other through it, and I matured a bit sooner because of it. It was a sobering feeling, ever for a 10 year old. I even showed him the picture I saved. I sometimes wish I hadn’t. Seeing that picture was as if I just pulled the scab the rest of the way off.
The political backlash and civil unrest caused by the third annual Death March was enough to keep another one from happening for the foreseeable, and damn near enough to topple the government. Luckily, the trouble and cost of overthrowing our government these days is a bit too much to deal with considering they weren’t doing much else wrong. Plus this time, instead of sending valuable people like doctors and soldiers, they sent mostly prisoners, with some skilled people mixed in. Pretty fucked up, looking back on it. Pretty much had thrown all those men to the wolves.
Now, though, they’ve called for another Exploration Expedition. And now, it’s my time to go. Maybe I should’ve listened to my father, and been an artist instead of a doctor.
So, in this roleplay, you guys, the characters, are the freshly chosen crew for 2096’s “Exploration Expedition, or known more affectionately by the locals as the Death March. There hasn’t been one in about 15 years, and the last one was a pretty controversial event, and many, many of the city’s inhabitants are still, for the most part, against any expeditions of the sort, including us. We are a mixture of all sorts of skilled persons, such as doctors, soldiers, hunters, anyone that could fit an important and specific roles on, basically, an expedition into completely unknown and uncharted territory. We don’t know how heavily changed or morphed the landscape of the United States can be, so anything is possible, along with monsters and creatures of untold horror. I have a slight backstory and other things that I have decided for the universe, but I wanted to probe for interest before I continued putting a lot of work into. If you have questions, want more information, or are interested in the roleplay, just post here in the thread, and I’ll try to get back to you guys as soon as possible! Thanks for reading!
