Dissident transmission broadcast on a public frequency picked up by most civilian radios at 10:36am, Monday.“Greetings Brothers and Sisters. For any new-comers I welcome you to our movement. I am Hermano and I work for you. I work for your families. I work for your brother, your sister, your mother, and you father. I work for the down-trodden. I work for the ones who cannot help themselves. Our goal is, as it has been for generations, liberation. Liberation from the iron fisted dictatorship we live in. From the military. The Mills say that they work to protect us. That without them we would all be starving and that we would all be dead. These are slanderous lies.
Only those who work for them are fed. Most of you out there cannot even receive a job. We have no need of further workers. There are no jobs left. These are lies as well. Farm work would boost the miserable rations that are handed out. However attempting to create a farm to feed your family is an act of rebellion. How many of us have seen “Dissidents” whose only crime was trying to feed their family and friends? Far too many.
What about those of us who voice discontent? Even a simple “I think they could be doing better”? Well those poor souls are taken away and never heard from again. It is time for a better life. It is time for Liberation!
Now some of my compatriots have yelled and prayed and hoped for armed conflict. Not yet my family. Not yet. Soon. However our numbers are small. An armed conflict now would only result in all of our deaths. Simply wait a while longer my family. Suffer for only a while longer. Salvation and Liberation are on their way. Only a while longer. I assure you that we at the Liberation Front are doing all we can. There will be a better tomorrow in just a while longer.
We are moving to Broadcasting Station B. If you can wait just a while longer we shall be a force to be reckoned with. Remember my family: Just a while longer. This is Hermano and I want all of you to stay safe. Farewell."
Day 1
GhostThe rain patters onto the dirt, creating mud. That's the best it can do, in the circumstances. Except perhaps within the Grey Forest, there isn't much plantlife to speak of anymore. You found more plants when you walked the badlands, but it seems the Green Zone is not a place for safety. [20] You see the guy leaning against a door, and he's exactly the sort of guy who needs a job done. He's a scarred veteran, wearing an army surplus jacket and beret. You walk up to him, but obviously don't say anything.
"You Ghost?" he said. "I heard you don't talk that often. You do jobs, right?"
You nod.
"Well, there's a house on the edge of the Green Zone, 226 Westmore Road. It's the white one on the corner. Don't ask why you gotta check it out, but if you find a bag with some ration cards in it, I'll let you have whatever you can find in the house, and a ration card for your trouble."
It's shady, but you can deal with it. You nod and shake on it, then head in the direction of the house. You know the part of town it's in: it's not a good place. The town around here is practically crumbling in on itself, no-one to live in it. Everything' been smashed and burnt and ripped to pieces, and then left to rot. The white house on the corner of Westmore Road is no longer white, and is more a stained grey. You smash a window in the back and climb through, into the darkness, then begin to look for the ration cards.
[3] [1] You look under a bed in the bedroom, then open the closet. There is a clicking noise, and you find yourself at the end of a metal tube attached to a complex mechanical rigging. [13] You step aside in time to avoid an arrow firing right at your stomach. It hits a wall, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You search the rest of the house, and find no bags with ration cards within. You decide to check for anything else of value within the house.
[3] [4] Nothing remains that isn't nailed down. The fridge is filled with gone-off food, the shelves empty, and even the drawers are simply gone. At least there aren't any booby traps. A trap to guard a long deserted house. How ridiculous. You head out of the silent home and back to the army surplus soldier. He looks at you up and down.
"Where's the bag?" he asks. You shrug.
[9] "You promised me the bag." he says. "I'm not giving you my ration cards, but... thanks for taking your time out. Here." He tosses you a can of baked beans. "For your trouble."
He walks away from you, leaving you with your new can of baked beans. It looks like the majority of houses you'll search in the Green Zone will be most likely empty. It's never simple for you, is it?
Heath 10
Hunger 5
Map
Recurve Bow
4 Arrows
2 Rations
1 Portion of Food
Alexis Jade[17] You managed to sneak out into the proper wilderness, under the cover of the darkness of the early morning. An army floodlight almost managed to expose you, but several panicked moments hiding under the car with your dogs managed to shake them off your trail. Now you're fully in the Deadlands, the local's name for the area in and around the Green Zone that isn't forest or city.
You wandered off the main highway a few hours before, when the sun started rising. Some parts of the Deadlands are desert, others are plains, there's even woods here and there. The area you're in is full of high grass that glows in the sun with a yellow tint, shaking stiffly in the breeze. A few hills surround you, and you note a few tracks of animals. The wolves go their separate ways to scout ahead, while you crouch and scan the area for animals.
[4] There aren't many animals around. Life in the Deadlands is few and far between, as one would suspect from the name.
[10] An engine starts in the distance, and you lay down in the grass fully, seeing a truck full of nasty looking types in leather jackets and gasmasks, wielding shotguns and scrap swords. Wasteland raiders, worst kind of criminal. Too insane for the Green Zone, taking so many drugs their brains are fried. Their truck is weathered and damaged, with an improvised steam engine. Your heart skips a beat when one of them looks in your direction. What these guys do to woman (And men too, depending on the circumstances) is not to be thought about. The guy looks away, and you breathe out.
The truck eventually moves out, but that only underlines the fact you have to keep moving or you might find something else. You look around for animal remains, because if there are raiders in the area then they'll be hunting animals.
[12+1=13 thanks to butcher kit] [6+1=7] On the ground, barely hidden by grass, is a dead raccoon. It's basically healthy, apart from a few eyes in the wrong places, and it seems to have been shot by buckshot, it's guts hanging out. It's only been killed recently, as the flies have only just gathered. You take out your butcher's kit and gut the animal, getting as much usable meat as you can get. The amount you have would be enough for three portions, enough for a day. You eventually come out with two portions. You whistle, and the wolves come back. One of them has a dead rabbit in it's mouth, which is too eaten to be useful. You roll your eyes and start heading back to the Green Zone. Under cover of grass, then eventually broken down cars and ruble, you make your way out of the Deadlands and back into the Green Zone.
You feel a lot safer within the barbed wire encased Green Zone then you did out there, with the wilderness stretching forever beyond. That's one of the few things you could say about the military occupation that isn't a critique: they keep you safe.
Alexis:
Heath 10
Hunger 5
2 Rations
3 Portions of Food (One day worth of food)
Wolf One (Name not yet chosen)
Health 10
Hunger 8
Wolf Two (Name not yet chosen)
Health 10
Hunger 8
Old Man LeeYour knees creak as you kneel down, parting the dirt that you shifted with the shovel, trying to find some eggs. It was hard-going trying to shovel through the dirt: the ground's practically frozen nowadays. What used to constitute "winter" now lasts almost half the year, while summer now only consists of two weeks of a hazy warmth. There's a lot more fires being lit nowadays, that's for sure.
[3+4=7] [20+4=20 capped] [20+4=20 capped] A grin lights up your face as you find a veritable bounty of food. 20 eggs! From three chickens, that's a borderline miracle. God really smiled on you today. You gather up the eggs in a basket, then head to town. You'd be skipping to town if your legs worked right, but since they don't you just limp to it.
This neighborhood used to be so nice. Friendly folks, hospitality, the way a proper town should be. Now it's full of military thugs, crazy gangsters, and menacing young people. Of course, the thugs keep the gangsters in line, the gangsters can get you stuff the military forbids, and the young people usually get themselves killed fairly quickly.
You approach a young man with red hair whose name is Rederick Stuart, though they call him Red. He's a scumbag and a smuggler, but at least he's sort of polite to you. Poor bastard has a mutant daughter. You can tell he loves her, and that's the sad thing. He nods to you, smiling like a friendly snake.
"Morning, old man." he says. "Whatcha got for me?"
You give the propisition. Find some medicine for you. Payment up front, since you know Red's not going to rip you off like some of the other losers around here.
"What's the payment?" he asks. You present him with the eggs. He nods and takes [4] 12 of them. You raise an eyebrow and remind him you have to eat too. [18] He drops three back in, leaving a fairly good amount still in the basket.
"Thanks for the eggs, I guess. She'll like them. We barely get any rations even if we have the right cards. Those guys down at the army base don't like me much. I dunno why, I provide valuable target practice. I'll get back by nightfall, I'll see if I can't pick you up a few of your pills." he says. "Have a nice day, old man."
You go back home and spend the day rearranging your furniture and trying out your new past-time, throwing rocks over the fence and seeing if you activate a landmine. It's like rock skipping except with more explosions. It messes with your hearing like nothing else, but it's certainly a rush. Who knew the end of the world would be so dull? As night falls and you light the candles, you hear a knocking at the door.
[10+1=11] [8+1=9] [10+1=11] Red's wearing his gasmask and urban camo. He takes a pill bottle out of a dufflebag and tosses it to you. You catch it, and look at it. The label says it's your prescription. You thank him, and he nods. You shut the door, then go back up to your room.
Heath 10
Hunger 5
2 Rations
4 Pills
11 portions of food (Rounded off to be enough for 3 days)
Wade BlueEmily looked so optimistic when she heard that broadcast. Her eyes brightened, and she listened intently until the broadcast was over. She asked you if you thought it could be true. You said that she should turn the radio off, if the military hear that you were listening to it they'd be angry. She said, "Let them be angry". You turned the radio off yourself. Thirty minutes later, you kissed her goodbye and went to do the dirty business.
According to some magazine you read, the military is always on the look-out for the ideal "warrior" personality. One of the parts of this is that the warrior shouldn't be interested in girls. It wasn't unreasonable, since guys tended to say things that should be kept quiet to a woman they just screwed, even a hooker. Problem is, it's fairly rare that you find a guy with zero sex drive, so you gotta accept the fact they're going to be screwing like rabbits after they just risked their lives on the field. Nothing's better then sex after utterly risking your life.
Problem is, what if there isn't any more hookers? It's the oldest profession, but so was farming and no-one's farming right now. You guess it's up to you to restart the business.
You look around for any pretty women. They're harder to find then usual because everyone's caked in dirt, ruddy from sunburn, and have suffered slight dental breakdown. [16] However, you see one girl, probably in her early twenties. She's not exactly a supermodel by old world standards, but she's a goddess nowadays. She's got short blond hair, hazel eyes, and it looks like she's been eating well enough not to be horrifying when it came down to business. You walk up to her with a winning smile and start talking. She's a nervous, fluttery sort. You say you've been assigned by the army to find proper applicants for a unique job. You keep spicing it up and getting her interested, offering good pay and a place to stay, and finally bring the hammer down on the actual point: she's going to be a prostitute.
"Er... I'm going to be having sex with soldiers... for money?" she asks quietly, leaning in.
You explain it's for ration cards, and put a little spin on the prostitute part by saying she's going to be a "callgirl" instead of a whore. Whore is an unpleasant word. She stares for a moment, seemingly considering it.
[11+2=13] "... I guess I could try it..." she says. You say that's excellent, and then say that the army will discuss the specifics of the contract at the base. You ask for her name, and she gives you it. Veronica. A lovely name, you comment, then make your leave. You feel vaguely dirty after that, and head to the army base with your head looking at the ground.
The army woman is waiting outside the army base, a fenced off section of the Green Zone filled with practicing cadets and rookies stacking crates. The female staff sergeant looks at you and asks "Did you find someone? My men can't wait any longer."
You nod and tell her it's all sorted out, then hold out your hands. Girl named Veronica should be popping by fairly soon. She catches the brief look in your eyes.
"Desperate measures for desperate times, Wade." she says, handing you a few ration cards. "I don't like it either."
You walk away from her, not even saying goodbye. You go home to Emily, and perhaps back to some sense of morality. Would she be the only one who'd miss you if you went? Maybe.
Wade
Heath 12
Hunger 4
3 Rations
2 Ration Cards
1 Reward Card (Special Use Card: Use these to get luxuries you wouldn't get normally at your supply depot. Usually rewarded for doing a particularly good deed.)
Emily
Heath 10
Hunger 4
Edgar WinterThe army guy shrugs, leaning back on his desk. Outside, a few soldiers star-jump, and you can see that shady guy Wade talking with a lieutenant.
"I dunno." says the army guy. You look back at the army guy. He's a fat bastard, obviously indulging in a little "the rations disappeared on the way to the supply depot, dunno where they went" and skipping exercises. He seems to be a sergeant, one of the higher ones, so that'd make him one of the highest ranked soldiers in the area. What a mess. "I'm not sure what you could do around here."
You say there has to be something. The US Army uses a lot of electronics, thus they have to have something on hand, right?
[3] He shrugs again. "Nope, sorry."
You curse a bit, then make your leave. Outside you pass the exercising soldiers and look around the yard. This used to be a big school, now it's as close to a military base you can get around here. In the bell tower they have snipers now, and the classrooms are used as storage for ammo. You heard rumors the army around here has a helicopter and a tank, but that's just that: rumors. It's amazing how standards dropped. It wasn't so long ago this country spent the most money on the army then any other, now having two combat vehicles is by itself impressive.
You walk over to a few soldiers sharing a smoke by the swings and ask them if they have any need for an electrician.
"An electrician?" asks one, a guy with goggles and a camo bandana. "Where'd you learn to do that?"
You reply that you have acquired the knowledge of electronics thanks to the education systems of yesterday, which you have been putting to use even after the potential end of the world, implicating that the soldiers present who have not made the optimal use of their training.
[1] "Fuck off." says one. You realize you probably shouldn't have implied they're dumbasses. You probably aren't going to get a job today. You slink back home, defeated.
Heath 10
Hunger 5
Toolbox
2 Rations