Syben

Deadland Wasteland: //START Recruitment.exe [OPEN - APPLY]

I'm just trying to be reasonable, and believable :)

n e w - a g e - 2 0 5 0 :: a cyberpunk dystopia

user get.locale = "Club Event Horizon"

Lights flared brilliantly, insync with the rhythmic thundering of hard hitting bass and at times, with the rapid crescendos of electronic beats thumping through ridiculously sized arrays of speakers. A bit old fashioned, and some would call it analog, but Event Horizon was popular for that very reason. It was more of a rustic club scene, lacking many of the newer amenities the competition employed. There we no holographics, no automated drink machines and definitely no seamless musical projection systems. No, here the partygoers enjoyed seeing the subwoofers hammering outwards so loudly that it resonated within their bones. Here, things had a feel of realness that was substantially lacking in today's world. It was a venture that had turned out quite successful, that much was evident by the sea of silhouetted bodies dotted with their neon accessories and dyes. Above them strobes flashed and lasers skittered across the floor in dazzling patterns. It was one of Chiue's favorite scenes in Night City. Though, she wasn't particularly picky with her clubs, being a woman of many tastes. The music here however, was definitely what she was feeling tonight.

She moved along with the others, though she had given up grinding amidst the sea of sweat and wandering hands to take center stage on a small, raised rotunda. She moved fluidly in a black dress, perfectly accented with nearly transparent white to tease and tempt in strategic areas. The bracelets on her arms and ankles moved with her, leaving radiant trails of color when she dipped and swung her limbs around quickly. A set of bars ringed her platform, though they too were strobes and pulsed in rhythm to the music, periodically revealing the full visage of the woman within. Chiue had attracted a crowd around her, who whistled and catcalled out to her. She barely heard them, but the attention set her blood on fire.

She had come nearly and hour earlier, deciding this was the perfect way to wind down a day of hard work—Of hard, rewarding work. Her new employers hadn't said anything in particular about her doing work on the side. At least, not yet. But that was a matter for another time. Successfully shattering her way through ParaCiti's defenses, a subcontractor to a larger and more important company, meant tonight was all about blowing some of that hard earned cred.

Chiue let her eyes crack open as the atmosphere in the club changed to a slower, more melodic pace. She changed her style from a wild, chaotic pattern of practised dancing to a slower, sinuous style. She drew her hands along herself, drawing attention to certain aspects of her body in a rather teasing manner. She caught the eyes of a fine looking gentleman as she moved and swayed about. She let the hint of a smile play at the edges of her lips as she spun away, turning herself to a different audience. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed the same, cocky smirk and twinkling eyes. She played this subtle game for awhile longer, until the song began to drag on far longer than Chiue's interest could be maintained in such a slow beat. She stepped down from her rotunda, which was immediately replaced by a bouncy blonde bombshell wearing floss for clothes, or damn near close to it. Chiue eyed her anyways as the blonde ascended the short set of stairs, and smiled appreciatively.

She was contemplating a few adult themes revolving around her and the bombshell when a light tap on her shoulder caught her attention. It was the pretty boy before, same smirk, same glittering blue eyes. Chiue eyed him up and down; He wore a pair of well pressed pants, slashed with ribbons of glowing color and a vest that matched. She decided that beneath his rather bland, white button-up that he must have been hiding a set of abs. He was well built, and well groomed for a man in this club of pixies and rockers. They didn't say anything to each other, it was likely neither of them could properly hear anyways. Chiue flashed a smile instead, batting her lashes and moved to walk past him—Except, as she did so she let her hand trail slowly along the line of his jaw. A blind man could have read that signal, and dutifully pretty-boy followed.

Chiue led him to one of the serving bars at each side of the club, where the intense music was far less concentrated. A moment later the guy tailing her rounded the short planter that ran the length of the bar area, separated in places only so that people could pass through. Chiue pretended to focus on the plants inside the divider, which weren't really plants at all, but some weird glass sculpted pieces that looked like leafless branches pulsing with a dull red-orange color.

"This club is Massive yea?" He said, taking a seat immediately next to Chiue, "Names Raze."

Chiue smiled vixenly. "Chiue, a pleasure," She said, extending her hand in a ladylike manner. He returned her grin and kissed her hand. He wasn't as refined as that suit, but Chiue figured she'd roll with it.

"Get'cha a drink?" He asked, adjusting his vest needlessly.

"Neon Snail, Blue."

"Ah, I'm particular to the green one m'self," He said with a nod, waving the bartender over. A moment later they each had an effervescent, neon drink in their hands; His green, hers blue, and each topped with a gummy, alcohol infused snail.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Chiue spoke up, "Quite the charmer," she remarked playfully.

"Me? Nah," He deflected, "I ain't no good at seduction and stuff, but the worst you could do is use me for free drinks right?"

Chiue gave a complementary chuckle, "A realist, I like that." Her comment served to make him blush, and probably set him off guard a bit.

"So, ah.. What's Chiue mean?" He asked, fumbling for conversation. Chiue decided his awkwardness was rather adorable.

"Beautiful Lily."

"Wow, really?"

"No," Chiue laughed, earning herself another blush. "Are you going to ask me my favorite color too?" She teased.

"Er.. No, how about a refill?" He asked, signaling to her diminished drink. Chiue nodded in acceptance, though not before plopping the candy snail into her mouth. It was tart, and bitter, but underneath all that there was a light sweetness. Whatever was in the snails, it made her feel a little fuzzy. She'd thought once it had been drugs, and even though she claimed to be done with that kind of scene, it wouldn't bother her if the snails were in fact, spiked. It's not like she was actively seeking what could, or could not be, inside them, so it didn't count.

"So," Raze started through sips of his drink, "W͡_͈a̹t͜ ̦b͐t̘y̜n̛g̱z̋ ̿o̮u̦e̜ ̲rͩ-̂u̅ṫ ͨt͑xͅn͑iͮu̥șd͆t̞h̦?" Chiue stared at him flatly, whatever he had said seemed to distort into.. well, complete gibberish.

"What?" She asked, her heart fluttering in slight panic. 'It's not..' She thought, immediately pegging the interference as the white noise that haunted her. Had he drugged her? He had handled both of their drinks and this sort of interference wasn't typical of white noise. The motherfucker had spiked her!

Raze smiled affectionately, "O̹u̠ ̡s_̏e͂a͖d̀", w̨̼̣̖ͪt̤͊̇͊ ̢̺̭̿͌s̴̪̀ͫa̸ͪ͊̂…̯̙͑͢g͍̋̅ͬͅh̄̀ͪe͎̹r͒͂̉?"

An alert popped up on her optics, but everything went black far too quickly for her to read whatever it had been. She froze, daring not to move as the world became dark and muted.

"Go to the Red Warehouse, Now."

"What the fuck?" She asked, sort of, but the voice was gone. As quick as it had begun, it was over. The world returned, the music flooded her ears, and her date was gone.

"What the fuck..?" She breathed, her face contorted with confusion as she turned her attention back to the alert. It wasn't an alert at all in fact, it was a map location. Chiue checked the time, she wasn't that far but it was already well into late evening. 'I guess that's why it said now, huh,'She thought to herself. Whoever her mystery date had been had probably bugged her. That was the most reasonable explanation, chipping her with something internal would be one of the easier, if more complicated, methods of jacking her neuralware. It was harder to fight something inside of you. Still, she set diagnostics to run for the last half hour anyways.

Chiue got up to leave and bumped into another woman stumbling through the bar area. "Hey gorgeous," A pretty gal, with spiked, pink hair jutting for her head slurred at Chiue in what she probably thought was a flirty, sensual tone. Chiue shrugged her off, she had other things to do at the moment. Besides, obviously plastered chicks didn't interest her, in fact, it just kind of felt wrong to take them home. Chiue retrieved her black longcoat after appropriating the proper identification code, and left the club. A short walk brought her to nondescript garage where she had parked earlier. A bit of a splurge, her car was a fancier high-life model, complete with autopilot. Since she ran most of her hardware through ACE, she wasn't too concerned about hijackers.

She linked up with her vehicle and set the destination. She liked driving, quite a bit actually, but this whole scenario had her suspicious—And more importantly, curious. The only people who had really caught her off guard like that had been Biotechnica. Well, at least within the last two years or so. But, without any official handle she had nothing but guesses. So, if she couldn't figure out who had sent her, she could try to figure out who was expecting her.

Pulling up the diagnostics report really only told her what she had already assumed. She jacked-in to her deck and accessed the city grid. From there, she checked the location she had been commanded to go to. The best she could see at first glance was that there were cameras from another facility across the street. However, speeding through the recording didn't reveal much. The camera was too far away, and had absolute shit for resolution quality. Chiue grimaced, but, you couldn't really expect much from the dirty industrial types she surmised.

"We will arrive at your destination in three minutes," The automated navigator's voice announced.

Chiue sighed, there was nothing of interest from the video feeds. No armed squadrons, no supercops staking the area out. That must mean whoever had summoned her probably hadn't arrived yet. Which, in reality, was a smart idea. The car slowed and turned into the property. Chiue switched into manual mode just as the car was announcing it couldn't appropriate a designated parking area, cutting it off just before it could suggest she take over anyways.

Chiue parked right next to what she figured was the door into this place—She was nothing if not bold. She killed the engine and opened the door in practically the same instant. There was no need for archaic keys, Chiue's system operated remotely, bonded to her NIC (Net Identification Code) and protected by her ACE. The cool night air rustled her overcoat gently as she made her way into the warehouse, and arrived mid-conversation, or so it seemed.

“Did you guys get coasters, too? I got a coaster.”

“We got an orange,”

"I bet you're all wondering why I've gathered you here," Chiue announced to the rather odd group of characters, smiling broadly before chuckling, "Nah I'm just fuck'en ya, I got drugged.. or bugged ..or..you know what, I would have loved an orange. Oh shit, is that Bubble Battle? Link me!" Chiue finished, whipping out her phone. She was still watching the others out of the corner of her eye, but it seemed for now her curiosity wouldn't be sated just quite yet.

n e w - a g e - 2 0 5 0 :: a cyberpunk dystopia

@Didgeridont In the works. Been a bit busy hanging with my best bud and helping him with his divorce. Should be up tonight or tomorrow.

Deadland Wasteland: //START Recruitment.exe [OPEN - APPLY]

Fixed the character thing.

Also, about the ghouls. It's true that the standard ghoul is about as fast as an average person. However, I'm diabolical you see, which is why I gave you runners. Even if we assumed we killed all of the initial runners, there would be others in the city. Likely, even, in areas that the convoy had already passed, hiding from the daylight.

Now, if we also consider that in today's reality, the drive from Brown's Point to Federal Way (the destination) is supposedly 20ish minutes. The route I had envisioned in my head was more around 30 - In today's world.

Add in an overgrown jungle, dangers around every corner, rough and unstable terrain, and the need to drive about as fast as the jurassic park automated observation jeeps (slow). We have a trip that takes a good amount of hours. Now, in all of those hours of trying not to kill yourself driving through other dangers, on top of the millions of ghouls in the city -- The ghouls coming at Refuge can be implied to be a different set of baddies.

However, there is an unknown variable. The weird phenomena, the girl, the sounds, and why all the ghouls that had been in Eli's area are gone. So perhaps, maybe it's not the truck's fault? Perhaps there are darker forces at work here, or perhaps the runners (who could keep up with the trucks trying to plow their way through uncertain paths) notified their brethren, and thus a horde began to amass behind them.

If we ascertain that each pack of ghouls has a good number of runners, as seen by the skirmish at the rubble pile, which we can assume were probably between 10-30 in number, than attracting a wide swathe of ghouls from sections of the city could potentially bring hundreds of runners. Thus, the need to get in the gate quickly.

Yes, I did say hundreds of runners, which I would say is about equal to as Sergeant Docker put it "a tide of ghouls".

Speculate on that.

You don't even see the rest of the ghouls.

Yet.

Was this explanation satisfactory?

Syben's Swamp

<Snipped>

n e w - a g e - 2 0 5 0 :: a cyberpunk dystopia

@Aeonumbra Meanwhile Andrejs is just like LOOK AT ME I'M CLASSY

@Lemons

If he can tolerate Chiue, they'll likely be friends. She likes fancy.

n e w - a g e - 2 0 5 0 :: a cyberpunk dystopia

Predicted conversation between Goonster and Chiue:

G: "I'm the best"

C: "Nu-uh, I'm the best."

G: "No.. I'm the best."

C: "NOI'MTHEBEST"

Deadland Wasteland: //START Recruitment.exe [OPEN - APPLY]

_{There is only silence, broken sporadically by the sound of Aeon cackling with a vaudevillian flair, and then he begins to monologue}

Originally, I was going to leave Refuge alone. I figured it was out of the way enough, and with the night curfew the residents would be quiet enough not to attract any ghouls (who would then call out to other ghouls in a sort of domino effec.

And then @Andreyich happened.

Remember in the IC when I said your character's actions will have real effects on this world?

_{Aeon laughs, claps, and exits right stage.}

:)

Deadland Wasteland: //START Recruitment.exe [OPEN - APPLY]

---

E L I

Monday, June 1^st, 2111

Unfortunately, Eli noted it was still dark outside as her creaked open the rear exit slowly. Unconsciously, he had been hoping to see the brilliant, muted rays of light streaming through the foliage clogged alleyway. He hadn't even realized that particular thought had lived within him until the disappointment hit him. He signaled for those immediately behind him to move out into the narrow space between the buildings. He was acting as the pointman, of course. This was a dangerous, and delicate situation. It was one that had everybody scared, including himself. He peered upwards into the afternoon night, thinking about the paradox that statement created. He was overwhelmed with the failure to come to any logical, reasonable conclusions. Even one of Washington's legendary storms, it shouldn't have been this dark. In fact, it had grown even darker.

Eli squinted towards the opening leading out towards the street. Shadows flickered across worn bricks and clusters of plants. Vines snaked their way down the sides of the buildings, but thankfully they remained stationary. Eli crouched against a thick cluster of ferns as he tried to see down the road before him. It was just too dark. He strained his ears instead, listening for the tell-tale signs of ghouls lurking around the bend. Nothing. That was strange, they had moved on rather quickly. Had that noise earlier really drawn all of them off, or had they migrated on their own, seeking easier prey? Either way, that was fortunate news for the group.

He turned to face the group and found himself face-to-face with Garsin and Geo, whom he had just met moments prior as he conversed with the other members of their little ragtag group. Fortunately, a few of these others seemed a little more capable than Eli had thought at first glance, but none of that would matter if they ran into a horde of ghouls. "Stay low, stay quiet," He said, following his own instructions as he dipped out into the street. He hugged the wall, moving slowly, ignoring the whispers of grass as he passed through their long, still stalks.

Eli skirted around a rather large root protruding forcefully from the wall, and soon found himself closer to the firelight and the dancing shadows. There were no other sounds, no growling or shuffling, not even the rustle of an occasional bush. He dared a glance around the corner. There was literally nothing but the gruesome scenery of mangled corpses. He wait, yet nothing stirred—Not even the bodies, at least, not yet. Some of them looked too damaged to resurrect as a ghoul anyways. Still, how much time had passed? How long did they have before those corpses woke up, hungry and pissed?

He was about to turn around, satisfied there was nobody else he could save when he caught the sight of a personnel truck buried halfway into a brick wall, shrouded by hanging vines, rubble, and tall fens waving slightly with the breeze. As if trying to subdue his glimmer of hope, he felt a cold, wet droplet splatter on his cheek. Confused, he looked around, before he noticed that it had begun to sprinkle. 'So that storm has finally decided to hit, eh?' he thought resolutely to himself.

"We got a mechanic?" He asked, turning back to the group of bodies behind him, most of which were cowering within the grass, trying to seem small and hide within their poor excuse for shelter.

"I am," A quiet voice spoke up. A woman shuffled to the forefront of the group.

"What's your name?" Eli asked, taking in the lithe woman with stormy, gray eyes.

"Abigail," She said through a noticeable, but light French accent, "Just call me Abi."

"Alright Abi, you think you can make sure that truck will get us home?" Eli asked, motioning behind him with thumb. She peeked around his shoulders, her face contorting as she studied the wreckage.

"Hard to tell from her, but my instincts say it doesn't look good."

"Well, it's that or we have a long hike back in this," He paused, "Darkness.."

"Right," She said, obviously thinking along the same lines. It was near suicide.

"Garsin, watch her back. Make sure nothing kills our only mechanic. Geo and.." Eli looked through his pool of candidates, "You there. Yes, you. Go up the rubble, quietly, keep and eye out. If you see something amiss don't yell, use a flashlight to signal us."

Eli stood, peering once more over his shoulder, "You two-" He said, pointing "-Watch the southern intersection. The rest of you stay near the truck, keep eyes on the windows and alleys. Lets try to get home in one piece, yea?" He finished with a soft, lighthearted chuckle.

For Eli however, he was going to make sure those bodies stayed dead.

---

R E F U G E

Sergeant Docker grimaced at the papers held before him in thick, calloused fingers. Smoked streamed through his teeth, currently clenched around the thick end of a cigar. He slapped the papers down, scattering some small objects on his desk, and moved his massive frame from the chair struggling to hold him, to the window. It's not that he was fat, but he was bulky. Years of serving in the military, combined with a mixture of Germanic and Icelandic heritage, would do that to a man. The paper he had been reading was a dossier on none other than Eli Shuppert, and frankly, Docker didn't know what the mayor saw in him. Yet, he shrugged. The mayor was entitled to her fancies, even if that meant letting some soldier start his own special operatives unit.

That worried him, somewhat. Though, Eli didn't look capable to enact a militaristic coup. On the other hand, Mayor Guzman didn't seem capable to resist a well organized mutiny within the structure of her own settlement. He grimaced, fingering the stubble along the edges of his jawline. Then there was that fellow, what was his name.. Theron? Jackson Theron. That's right. He was starting some sort of unionized movement, something about better pay for unskilled laborers. Docker shook his head slightly, people always wanted what others had. It was a wonder this place was holding together at all.

As he contemplated the rising problems of the town, a shadow cast itself over the immediate area he had been observing. He hadn't actually been looking at anything special, in fact it was just the parking lot in front of the command center, with few vehicles and even fewer bodies milling about. He let out another heavy sigh, turning back to the reports on his desk. He should be out there, reassuring the people and forming bonds with them that wouldn't break instead of staring at the reasons why the fishermen weren't hauling in as much as they used to. More pay this, more food that. This whole system of self-management was a farce, but Guzman insisted it made the people happy.

"If it made them so fucking happy why do I have a desk full of problems?" He grumbled. Arguably, some of them were small problems, like the petty theft census. People didn't want to work together, they wanted to work for themselves and take what others had. He knew first hand what happened when you let all of these little problems stack up. He had just sat down to starting cleaning up some of those problems when his door burst open. The cigar shot from his mouth, flipping end over end as it spiraled into a stack of papers.

"For fuck's sake man! Can't you knock?" Docker shouted, getting up to retrieve his cigar from where it had rolled onto the floor.

"Eh..S-sorry VP, It's just.." The boy stammered, he couldn't have been past twenty, "It's about the convoy. They established radio communication, but it was garbled.. full of white noise. I couldn't make out anything but the screams really, and then the transmissions stopped altogether."

"The screams, son?" Docker questioned in a more fatherly way. The kid seemed to respond better to that.

"Yes sir, they were under attack, we think by ghouls."

"Ghouls? Ghouls?" Docker questioned, his face scrunching in confusion, "How could there be ghouls out in the middle of the afternoon?"

The kid looked taken aback at that, he had to take a moment to recompose himself, "Uh.. Sir.. have you looked outside?"

Docker's eyebrow rose as he looked over at his window. It was dark, not like a cloud passing in front of the sun, but actually dark. "How the fuck?" He asked, before the gears and cogs began whirling in his mind.

"Fuck me. Kid," He began, striding forward and taking a quick moment to catch the boy's name. "Cadet Wilson, radio the other lawkeepers, even those off duty, I want the night curfew enacted now."

"Yes sir!" The cadet said with a reassured nod. That's what kids like him were good for, taking orders. He'd grow up to be a fine enforcer.

Docker left his office only to nearly run into Mayor Guzman's thin, rail-like figure.

"What's happening Docker?" She asked neutrally. No panic, always the proper delegate.

"Do I look like a fucking scientist to you? It's night, in the afternoon, I'm enacting the night curfew."

He moved to step around her but she slipped before him again, blocking his path. "What about the convoy?"

"I don't know, we haven't heard back yet," Docker said irritably, weaving himself around he with surprising grace. "Now if you'll excuse me," He said curtly.

Docker made his way outside. There were other people here, some of which were just standing there staring at the sky, shocked in stillness by disbelief. Docker clapped his hands together, starling them out of their trances. "Sullivan!"

"Yes sir?" Sully replied, jogging to close the small gap between himself and the VP.

"Up on the wall, make sure it's properly manned. I sense a shit-storm."

* * * A Few Hours Later * * *

"Just treat it like any other night," Docker told himself. He wasn't smart enough to contemplate what had happened, nor was he philosophical. He'd just spent the last few hours organizing his forces to contain the spread of panic and get everyone situation within their homes. Thankfully, things had been quiet so far. Since it wasn't technically night yet, Docker was considering allowing the public back out into the streets, as long as they maintained a relatively low level of noise. Refuge was far enough out of the way that they didn't necessarily have to whisper, but there was to be no loud work like forging, or god forbid, gunfire.

Docker found himself outside the command center, taking stock of the situation. He caught sight of Guzman making her way over to him, her strides purposeful and her sharp eyes were set on Docker. He sighed inwardly, would the woman ever stop nagging him? Before she could pin him down with more of her bureaucratic crap or questions, a guardsman called down from the tower"

"Truck coming!"

"Thank God," Guzman breathed.

Docker came over, scaled the ladder up the watchtower with ease, and peered out into the direction the soldier was pointing at. Sure enough there were a pair of headlights coming closer, approaching with enough speed to churn up the smaller plants that broke through the asphalt. Docker couldn't help noticed the light, feminine huffs coming up the ladder behind him. Didn't she have babies to kiss or something?

"There's only one," Guzman observed.

"There's a second one coming from the other end," The soldier noted.

"Why would they-" Guzman pondered, but Docker cut her off.

"Ghouls," he breathed.

"What?" Guzman asked, confused.

"Ghouls. Look, behind the trucks," He handed her a pair of binoculars, her eyes weren't attuned like his were to notice things like that. From this distance, it was minute, but noticeable. It had been days since ghouls had found their way to the wall, and even then that had just been a small, roaming pack. This.. this was..

"Radio the wall teams, and tell them to stop by the armory.. We're going to need bigger guns."

"What about the trucks?" The soldier asked Docker as the VP began his descent down the ladder.

"They've got a little bit of a lead but there's not enough time for the trucks. Open the gates just enough for them to squeeze through, no bigger than a person. Even if the ghouls catch up we can still get them closed."

"Yes sir," The soldier nodded.

Docker was barely halfway to the armory, connected to the Command Center, before bodies began streaming in. Soldiers in fatigues, lawkeepers in trench coats and vests and distinguished hats, and other volunteers. By the time the soldiers shouted out a warning that the gates were opening, bodies were flowing towards the wall laden with gear and ammo. There was a lot of wall to protect, they were undermanned and under-gunned. They didn't have enough resources, holding back a tide of ghouls like that would be a miracle. Every god forsaken ghoul in the city must be stampeding towards the gates. He was going to have some very unpleasant words with whoever was driving those fucking trucks when this was all over. If he was still alive.

"This is going to be one hell of a fight," He said with a grimace, flipping open his tin of cigars. I don't even like cigars, he thought as he trudged towards the wall.

---

I N T H E T R U C K W I T H F R E D

* * * A Few Hours Later * * *

The driver was panicking, his heart was thumping out of control, as if it were trying to rip its way from his chest. There was a guy sitting next to him, he didn't know who he was. The guy was one of those types with a strong chin, like a hero, but with a scar through it. He looked tough, like he knew his shit. That didn't help. The driver's hands were shaking so badly it was a wonder he could keep the truck on the rough, bumpy road. Plants whipped by, each one sending tremors through the terrified man. At times, the vines were so thick, or the fens and ferns were so tall he couldn't see through them. Still, he plowed onwards, uncaring of what was before him because he knew what was behind—The tide of ghouls.

And they were leading them straight home.

To his home.

They were all going to die.

He was going to die.

The better man in him knew he should just throw the wheel to the side, wreck the truck into something thick and large and hope that killed him. But, inside, everybody wanted to live, right? It wasn't just him, right? No.. no.. the walls would hold. They'd shoot back all the ghouls, he'd live, they'd all live.

...Right?

Hide Request

roleplayerguild.com/posts/4412852

Please and thank you.