NEO Scavenger - How far will you go to survive?
This character had been doing really well. Warm clothes, shoes, a backpack, a shopping cart to haul all the crap, even for the first time in my 20 hours of play: a gun, a .308 rifle; 4 rounds of full-metal jacketed ammunition. Could probably rip a man's arm off at 200 yards. A man?
There was just one problem: Food. God, I was hungry. You see, water is plentiful enough but you can only go so long without something solid. The only things I'd been sustaining my self on were: A gummy bear or two; dug from in-between moldy couch cushions in dilapidated old house. A Small packet of soup crackers, taken from the apron of a skeletal waitress in a long ruined dinner. And a handful of mushrooms, which may or may not have been poisonous, picked in a bleak, dying forest. I was just so hungry.
I was picking across some collapsed office building, so hungry, when he caught me off guard. A looter with a with a spear, no more than a sharp wooden stick really. It-He, He I mean, caught me by surprise, however I quickly sidestepped the lunge and received only a nick; I've done this before you know -fighting that is, not... Never mind. Hungry. I wouldn't waste any of the precious 147 grain .308 bullets unless my very life depended on it, this? Just a fight. A hungry fight. I parried the spear away and brought my cleaver across it's chest. It backed away holding the wound, seemed to be thinking better about taking me on... Went into a retreat. Hungry. Normally, I'd let one go. You see I'm a pacifist at heart: Really?, I am. But, this time I thought: What if I let this go? It really didn't learn a lesson did it? It wouldn't come after me, but maybe a young woman? A child? A young pregnant woman? The more I thought, the more my hung-dissatisfaction grew. I couldn't take that chance, I unslung my rifle, my aim was disrupted by the grumble of my stomach, but was still true.
It was probably... Say? 200 yards away at this point. Blew it's arm almost clean off. It fell to the ground in shock, I trotted over and brought my cleaver down on the base of the skull. It was necessary. During the walk over; I had some time to think. I thought about yin and yang: Everything needs to be balanced, right? Yeah, right. The death of this poor thing was bad, so something good needed to balance it out. Eating is good, hungry.
Is not death less of a waste if some good does not come out of it?
I was so hungry that I ate some raw, but only enough to tide me over. I threw the rest into the cart and went to a nearby patch of woods and cooked it. See. I'm not some sort of barbarian, no still quite civilized. Perhaps I'm one of the last civilized people out here?
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Topic: NEO Scavenger - Post-Apocalyptic turn-based survival (Read 27521 times)