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Author Topic: D20 Modern: After the end. Accepting players!  (Read 54670 times)

Skyrunner

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Re: D20 Modern: After the end.
« Reply #780 on: November 02, 2012, 12:11:15 am »

Paprika coughs lightly and looks away, moving sideways slightly to give Ethan some breathing room.
"Don't provoke a sleeping tiger, the saying goes. Who know when he'll wake and start rawring."
She struggles to keep a straight face.
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mainiac

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Re: D20 Modern: After the end.
« Reply #781 on: November 02, 2012, 08:51:41 pm »

Guys I know I said friday but I just had a really exhausting day at work and I need to go on a trip this weekend and I'm just feeling so burned out so it's gonna be a little longer.
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« Last Edit: February 10, 1988, 03:27:23 pm by UR MOM »
mainiac is always a little sarcastic, at least.

Zako

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Re: D20 Modern: After the end.
« Reply #782 on: November 02, 2012, 09:04:49 pm »

((That's alright, I know the feeling. I just had an exam and last night was presentation for my uni group work. We actually won an award!

So go ahead and chill dude, we've all earned it. :P))
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Caellath

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Re: D20 Modern: After the end.
« Reply #783 on: November 02, 2012, 09:14:40 pm »

((Know how that feels. Exam yersterday, not nice.))
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"Hey steve." You speak into the air.
>Yes?
"Could you guys also make a hamburger out of this arm when they cut it off? I wanted to eat it just for the sake of tasting it."
>That is horrible and disgusting. It will no doubt set you apart and create fear in your team mates. So of course.

Dwarmin

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Re: D20 Modern: After the end.
« Reply #784 on: November 02, 2012, 09:53:29 pm »

((Np! That's why I started this impromptu RP :P ))

"Ethan probably does more purring than rawring, though I'd love to test out my theory on him to see how." Kat mused, finger to her chin.

Then she smiled, and silently motioned for Troy to start his story before Ethan exploded in a shower of awkward moments.
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Tiruin

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Re: D20 Modern: After the end.
« Reply #785 on: November 02, 2012, 10:00:56 pm »

((I love this RP. I love Dwarmin Brand RP. :P))
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Caellath

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Re: D20 Modern: After the end.
« Reply #786 on: November 02, 2012, 10:13:10 pm »

Ethan made half a dozen of low sounds - like a tiger having its belly tickled and actiing seriously displeased at it - before finally stopping, staring at the sky awkwardly.
"I don't purr."
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"Hey steve." You speak into the air.
>Yes?
"Could you guys also make a hamburger out of this arm when they cut it off? I wanted to eat it just for the sake of tasting it."
>That is horrible and disgusting. It will no doubt set you apart and create fear in your team mates. So of course.

Zako

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Re: D20 Modern: After the end.
« Reply #787 on: November 03, 2012, 12:11:54 am »

"Suuuuure you don't."

Troy smiled widely, seeing how the girls were getting to the poor man. He had clearly been alone for too long to be this awkward around people, which provided suitable entertainment watching him struggle to keep up with the girls, who clearly didn't have such restrictions.

"Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, it was way up north from here, in the dusty plains near the great deserts. Basically, the gangs up there had gotten into the habit of joining forces together to take bigger amounts of land and resources from other gangs, which worked quite well while the agreements lasted. The thing was, however, the plains up there didn't really have as much wheeled transport as the gangs down here do, what with fuel being scarce and working parts few and far between. So they used the next best thing, which was wind transport and horses for when they went into a fight.

I was a hired scout for a large group of gangs calling themselves the 'Kings of the Interstate' or something like that. My job was pretty simple, I just had to ride out on horseback with a few others, check the positions of rival gangs, look for sites that hold resources, update maps, y'know that sort of thing. Then, one day the kings got word of a oil drill that was supposedly still able to work, hidden out in the plains. They were understandably pretty anxious to get their greedy hands on it, since it basically meant they would have a larger reach over the plains due to having the good stuff for their cars, which makes them go further on the plains per gallon and let them react faster to intrusion as well. Unfortunately, I think a spy must have gotten the news to another large rival group called the 'Khanate Alliance' and the news had spread fast that the Khans were moving large amounts of people on horseback and sail to capture this drill. Needless to say, the Kings responded in kind."


Troy sniffed and scratched the bridge of his nose before continuing.

"So, here I was, being sent out on horseback to scout out the enemy army and report on their position, all in the middle of the great plains where I could get picked off by sniper fire from a mile away. Got me real paranoid, but I think that the enemy snipers must have been more focused on preventing ambushes rather than killing scouts, which suited me just fine. So I come up onto a ridge for a better view, it was overlooking a basin, and I can see the whole lot of them just sitting on their asses on the other side of the basin. They must have been waiting for their scouts to return or something, so I talked to one of my fellow scouts and he rode off like the wind while I sat there to keep an eye on the Khans.

Half an hour later, I can hear this thundering coming from below me, so I look over the ridge and what do I see? I see the kings, all on horseback with the odd car on the outside, just rushing out into the basin towards the Khans, must have been two hundred of them! The Khans must have seen them coming because, like the idiots they were fighting against, they rush out too! So here I am, watching both sides run at each other on horseback like it was some kind of history lesson or something, and the sound that they made when they clashed was incredible! I saw people and horses literally fly through the air from the force, saw cars swamped under or flipped over by horses, the screaming and yelling and the sheer amount of noise, it was like nothing else!"
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Dwarmin

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Re: D20 Modern: After the end.
« Reply #788 on: November 03, 2012, 09:22:46 am »

Kat listened to the story enraptured-and horrified. She had never heard of such large battles between bandits...though she supposed in an ironic sense, it was actually more proof the world was coming back together. In a bad way, but still. She wondered if the good people to come together before the bad ones...

Kat ran a hand through her hair.

"Wow...to ask the question we're all thinking, who won the battle in the end? Not that I think either sides loss would seem a particular blow to humanity."
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Zako

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Re: D20 Modern: After the end.
« Reply #789 on: November 03, 2012, 11:03:20 am »

"Heh, that's the thing, neither of them really won. The battle made both sides suffer so many losses in both manpower and resources that after both sides retreated from the battle, they both disintegrated from infighting and coups. I suppose those remains were either absorbed into new alliances or left the place, or died outright."

Troy shook his head sadly.

"Quite pathetic really. If they put aside their differences, they could have controlled a major part of the continent, but thankfully noone has managed that so far."
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Dwarmin

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Re: D20 Modern: After the end.
« Reply #790 on: November 03, 2012, 12:43:52 pm »

"If only more bandits would get the good idea to destroy each other and leave good folk alone, the world would be a nicer place. But not nearly often enough of them do, so they don't, and it isn't." Kat said, shaking her head.

She turned to Ethan.

"Now, what about your story? Don't think you're off the hook, Big Guy."
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Dwarmin's fell gaze has fallen upon you. Sadly, Your life and your quest end here, at this sig.

"The hats never coming off."

Dwarmin

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Re: D20 Modern: After the end.
« Reply #791 on: November 04, 2012, 11:38:37 am »

Kat blinks, watching Ethan try to recall a story. To fill in the silence, she offers another of her own...

"While we're waiting for Ethans gear to spin, let me tell y'all how I got my guitar...Rains already heard most of this, so it won't come as much surprise to her, but..

I was only 12. There was this old Mansion, a bad place most would agree. I went in on a dare..."


....

Kat had gone in on a dare.

She slips and falls as she tries to negotiate a portion of the sloping floor (almost everything but the walls seemed to be falling apart), Kats flailing hands missing the balustrade by inches. It'll be a few years before she gains the sort of grace and strength required to make such a way, but nothing stopped her from trying-even at 12, she was daring.

She hits the rotten wood floor badly. Despite her name, she doesn't always land on her feet. Luckily for her, nothing is broken-and the floor didn't cave out from under. Though it is making some stressful sounds...

Kat stays absolutely still, trying to gauge how bad a spot she is in. She had to wonder, again, why she came here. Her Mother and Father were pretty clear on the subject. The Old Mansion was dangerous-impossibly large (taking space for no other reason than it could) ugly, falling to pieces, yet impossibly strong-not to mention filled with...other things. Only experienced scavengers dared to go in. The people feared it, for few returned from it's depths. They were enchanted by it-because it was a symbol of the world-that-was. Luxury, power, safety, joy-the Golden Age of Humanity, before the sky was torn open. To think, people used to live in places like this? When they were lucky to not have their roofs cave in during heavy snows. Of course, everyone also said it was haunted. And in a way, it was. Under no circumstances was she to explore.

And here she was, tenderly checking her balance, feeling the floor crack...creak..pop. There was something down below. A minor miracle it hadn't woken up fully already.

She didn't want to know what it was-though she could hear it, and smell it. A steady, sleeping snoring (it trebled in speed as she listened, and she knew that was bad)-and a fresh, bloody smell. Like raw hamburger. If the fall didn't do it, well...best not to think about it.

Kat edged her way across the floor, as quickly and quietly as she could. One inch at a time...Kat didn't want to die here. In this moldy old castle...she felt very young, and very afraid. She wasn't the sort of person to give up, though.

As she reached the area around the stone staircase-mostly stable, here-when she heard a stealthy patter of large, soft paws behind her, kicking up clouds of long undisturbed dust. How could someone that big be so quiet, was her first thought-it slid through the ruins of the mansion with casual, almost contemptual ease. Kat only saw a few things through the clouds of sawdust, cut through by slanting sunbeams. Claws the size of swords. Paws half the size of her body, almost delicate in form, distinctly feline-but she could seem them gripping at the splintered wood with horrendous power. Luminous orange-yellowed eyes (the colors of dusk) burning in the gloom, streaked with veins of dark red. A mighty pale grey mane. It was beautiful and awe inspiring, even in the depths of horror. It was a MutaLion. The rarest and most ferocious predator, some said, in the entire wastes-ideally suited for hunting in the ruins of the cities and ruins it inhabited. It was rumored to be invulnerable to gun fire in all parts, except for it's eyes. They told tale it ate the souls of those it consumed. That it's belly was full of the undigested gold and precious metals of those it ate. It never died of old age, and pieces of the creature, when powdered and mixed properly, could make you mortal. But mostly, all tales agreed-you were going to die when you faced it.

Kat couldn't quite bring herself to run until it opened it's cavernous mouth, licking it's chops casually. Those teeth were longer than her arm.

She sprinted up the stairs-not heeding of danger, or the pain. If her leg fell through a splintered board...if she tripped...if she was too slow...Kat didn't hear the if's, only what she could do. And she knew she could get through the door ahead. Knew it.

When she tumbled through the doorway, feeling it's hot breath on her neck, she didn't even see the gap in front of her. Perhaps that was for the best-she ducked a massive paw, swung almost lazily, and fell...fell...fell. Again.

...

Kat wakes up, and it's pitch black. Part of her is afraid to move, to even breath. She reaches for her small lighter-hoping the light won't illuminate some horror, something she won't even want to comprehend before the end.

But being who she is, Kat flicks it all the same.

The room she is in is small-the floor under her, concrete, though it seems her fall was saved from being truly lethal by only luck. Her leg hurts bad, though. Might be twisted. She looks up. Dead end. Given enough time, surely, she could climb back up-it looks to Kat like she's at the bottom of what might have been an elevator shaft (though she's not quite sure what an elevator is), but even if she did, the beast would be up there-waiting for her. She knows it will wait.

The only way is forward-she hops a small concrete ledge, dragging herself through the remains of a sliding metal door, that some past scavenger no doubt pried open. Kat has an idea his bones decorate the Great Lions den, about now. She travels through dark paths, beyond memory and time. There's nothing alive down here. No...

...

Kat comes upon a door, in time. It's a vault door. A wasteland legend, actually. The Vaults. Supposed to carry the wealth of a forgotten age. Many people waste their lives looking for them. Kat has found one by accident.

She sees no way to open it-there's no handle, and it's far too large for her to move even if it wasn't locked. Kat sits down, enjoying a good laugh. All the wonders of the universe, and she'll never know, she thinks.

But her eyes are also sharp-and she spots something, inset in the wall. A small pad. numbers. 1-9 and 0, digital readout. She presses one on instinct. To her surprise, it responds with a harsh beep. Kat picks more random numbers. The readout fills entirely, then responds with an ever harsher buzz, and an automated womans voice, nearly imperceptible due to age.

"Acc...esss...deeeeny..duh..."

She plays with it a bit-finding small amusement, even in such dire circumstances. Right before she gives up, Kat concentrates. Like a whisper on the wind (a very, very faint voice), something comes to her. A bare emanation of the minds that used to reside here. She feels it's right-down to the marrow in her bones.

[1123-6536-5321]

"Acc...esss...grant..grant...grant"

Lucky guess?

Kat steps back, as the voice-to her it sounds almost ecstatic-finally gives out. The door slowly begins to open, ancient gears spinning, hydraulic pumps performing their final, solemn duty.

Inside, she will find death...but not her own.

The bunker Kat finds is nearly untouched by time-though the air of the wastes will no doubt corrode even this, now. It's hardly less ostentatious than the building that encircles it. Kat sees many strange things-a dried out concrete swimming pool (deflated pool toys lying in the bottom), a kitchen area (no food left she can eat-all the cans are empty), a massive four poster bed with rotting silk sheets (Kat still dreams of this vision, oddly enough), a padded floor with rusted weights strewn about (for exercise), several rooms of slightly smaller size and function. She finds the occupants. Almost a dozen of them scattered through the complex, rendered not so much corpses as mummies. Many of them seem to have killed themselves, Kat cannot help but notice...or been murdered. The violence will shock her more than anything-that perhaps the world before was not so bright and happy as they imagined. Perhaps it was more similar then anyone wants to admit.

...

It's not hard to imagine herself, here-in fact, Kat visualizes it quite perfectly, unknowingly aided by her strange powers. The bombs falling, the muted thuds above your head, the silent terror. But safe and secure, in this little space. Safe, but no way out. No way to get supplies. Living in relative luxury, as the sky tears open. You entertain yourself at first, try to concentrate on the fact that you survived above everything else. But it gets to you. It eats at you. Guilt-not everyone you knew got out. The walls close in. Can't breathe. Supplies run low. A dozen people, trapped down here? No wonder they killed themselves.

...

She finds the guitar in the master bedroom. It's owner, still clutching it's case. He bears no marks of violence. Whoever it was likely the last to die. Judging by the bottles festooned around him...he went out playing, and drinking. Kat supposes that's a good a way as any.

Something makes her pick up the guitar case. She'll replace it later, but it's done the job it was intended for-the instrument inside is almost perfectly preserved.

Kat's first instinct is to strum a note...


Kat coughs.

"...my first instinct was to strum a note. Poor guy, he just about collapsed as soon as I did-like he was waiting for someone to pick it up, so he could rest. To play. To remember...now, I found music down there too. You could say it was the start of my career.

I know, the me finding the guitar part was actually sort of short But it's the journey and not the destination, you kennit?"


She smiles, warming her hands by the fire some more.

"I'll leave the story how I got out of there, and not ending up Mr. Lion's dinner for another night." Kat says, throwing a subtle wink at Rain. She hasn't even told her that part of the story yet-no matter how many times she tells the first part, Kat likes to keep Rain in suspense until the end.

((The end. O_o))
« Last Edit: November 05, 2012, 07:32:09 am by Dwarmin »
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Dwarmin's fell gaze has fallen upon you. Sadly, Your life and your quest end here, at this sig.

"The hats never coming off."

Dwarmin

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Re: D20 Modern: After the end.
« Reply #792 on: November 06, 2012, 10:49:40 am »

((Two days with no response makes me nervous. Did I scare everyone away with my Monsterpost?))
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Dwarmin's fell gaze has fallen upon you. Sadly, Your life and your quest end here, at this sig.

"The hats never coming off."

Tiruin

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Re: D20 Modern: After the end.
« Reply #793 on: November 06, 2012, 10:53:14 am »

((I bet they're all busy... :P Your monsterpost was nice to read.))
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Caellath

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Re: D20 Modern: After the end.
« Reply #794 on: November 06, 2012, 11:12:47 am »

((Frenzy due to tests, my bad, almost no creativity.))

Ethan had used the opportunity proportioned by Kat's long storytelling to hide behind a particularly large log nearby whilst the rest of the group listened to her tale. He heard it as well, resting his back against the dead bark.

He wasn't very interested in talking about his life, to be sincere. Most things he remembered weren't exactly exciting except for that one time he saw a particularly well-equipped gang being taken down by a hail of fire from a working plane, or that story the old man who taught how how to fly had about those dogfighters almost taking him down for trespassing.

His life just wasn't exciting, he supposed. No mercenary work, no nothing.
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"Hey steve." You speak into the air.
>Yes?
"Could you guys also make a hamburger out of this arm when they cut it off? I wanted to eat it just for the sake of tasting it."
>That is horrible and disgusting. It will no doubt set you apart and create fear in your team mates. So of course.
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