Gaia

[gardenphilosoph]

GAIA

http://fc82.deviantart.com/fs15/f/2007/075/d/5/Concrete_Jungle_by_egn56.png
Image courtesy of Daniel Cuomo.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

BLOCKHEAD

Name: Freddy Biscuit
Age: 22
Sex: Male
Occupation: U.S.M.C. Private
Birthplace: Arizona, U.S.A.

STATUS
Hit Points: 15
Fate Points: 11
Damage Bonus: +1D4

ATTRIBUTES
STR: 12
CON: 15
SIZ: 15
DEX: 10
APP: 5
INT: 11 (Idea - 55)
POW: 11 (Luck - 55)
EDU: 18 (Knowledge - 90)

SKILLS
Climb: 50%
Drive (Automobile): 80%
Drive (Tank): 40%
Firearms (Assault Rifle): 75%
Firearms (Handgun): 60%
Firearms (Sniper Rifle): 21%
Leadership: 30%
Martial Arts (Akido): 26%
Navigate: 50%
Pilot (Fighter Jet): 51%
Repair: 60%
Survival: 50%
Swim: 65%

Background: Freddy was a pretty much average joe from his childhood. He had many friends, he loved sports, he did okay in school. Soon after graduating college with reasonable grades, he decided to serve his country for a few years in the armed forces. He was referred to the U.S.M.C. and began his training at the age of 19. Freddy showed amazing potential and ability to pick up practical skills for use in the field, despite his sometimes lack of understanding. He trained in various areas in the U.S.M.C. and was requested on several specialist posts. In the end, he decided to join up with a rag-tag bunch of troops as part of a Recon squad. They traveled the globe, performing missions for their country for the like. Freddy also picked up yet more skills while traveling. At the moment, the squad is currently on stand-by and so is Freddy. Freddy also wants to become a fighter pilot.

Appearance & Personality: Not very visually charming, Freddy has a huge nose, a small mouth, is bald and has brown eyes. Although Freddy is fit and is quite strong, his body does not show this, a six-pack or any form of muscle, it just appears to be of average build. Freddy has small scars here and there from injuries in past missions, but none too large or particularly special. He has no piercings, but he does have a tattoo printed on his right arm. It is a pair of goggles, with two assault rifles crossing the middle at the diagonal on a flaming explosion background with the words 'Gun Goggles Squad' printed in black above and partly below the main tattoo. Freddy stands at a whopping 6ft 6ins tall and weighs about 189lbs. Freddy is a keen learner and is naturally curious. He wants to do his country proud and keep his squad mates alive. He is fun-loving and out-going.

EQUIPMENT

U.S.M.C. standard issue army camouflage helmet
(AR - 5 HP)
U.S.M.C. standard issue army camouflage uniform
(AR - 7/8 HP)
U.S.M.C. standard issue army boots
U.S.M.C. standard issue M16A4
(DMG - 2D6+2, RNG - 90 yards, ATTKS - 2, MAL - 00)
(AMMO - 30/100 bullets)
U.S.M.C. standard issue M1911A1 .45 Caliber Pistol
(DMG - 1D6, RNG - 15 yards, ATTKS - 3, MAL - 00)
(AMMO - (3/8)/16 bullets)
U.S.M.C. standard issue short-range radio
combat knife (1d4+2+db)
canteen
first aid kit
flashlight



KUMA DA

Name: Caleb 'Buddy' Maxon
Age: 24
Sex: Male
Occupation: Survivalist
Birthplace: Norton, MA, U.S.A.

STATUS
Hit Points: 14
Fate Points: 10
Damage Bonus: +1D4

ATTRIBUTES
STR: 10
CON: 14
SIZ: 14
DEX: 15
APP: 8
INT: 15 (Idea - 75)
POW: 10 (Luck - 50)
EDU: 10 (Knowledge - 50)

SKILLS
Dodge: 60%
Fast Talk: 05%
Firearms (Rifle): 85%
First Aid: 50%
Hide: 50%
Listen: 75%
Melee Weapon (Knife): 40%
Navigate: 30%
Spot Hidden: 75%
Stealth: 50%
Tracking: 40%

Background: Caleb grew up around stories. His grandfather's--of the war in Korea--and his father's; little moral tales about independence and courage and pride. Caleb took those stories to heart and, while he did alright in school, he never really felt like he fit in. Everyone else was right on track for the lives that had been arranged for them. By society. By their parents. By the government. Caleb discovered that he was happiest when he was away from the crowd--drinking a stolen Budweiser on the roof of the high school, or hunting in the woods with his dad. So, when his eighteenth birthday rolled around, he moved out west and decided to try and forge a life for himself.

It didn't work.

He found himself waist-deep in debt, working at the local Wal-Mart, somehow wrapped up in all of society's petty snares despite his good intentions.

Appearance & Personality: Buzzed blond hair. Five 0' clock shadow. Wiry muscles and uneven teeth. Fiercely independent and maybe a touch elitist. Caleb prefers the simple, practical things in life. A college diploma's a nice thing to have, sure, but you can't really touch what it is. What it stands for. A set of tools, on the other hand, is pure and physical and you can tell if it's any good just by looking it over.

EQUIPMENT

army surplus camouflage uniform
steel-toed boots
machete (DMG - 1D6+db)
canteen
water purification tablets
lighter
rucksack
compass
21 packages of MRE
lantern
first aid kit
anti-venom
40 ft. of nylon rope



PAININTHEEAR

Name: Cliff 'the Cyclist' Clyde
Age: 34
Sex: Male
Occupation: Professor of Health Sciences
Birthplace: Dove Lake, VT, U.S.A.

STATUS
Hit Points: 11
Fate Points: 11
Damage Bonus: +1D4

ATTRIBUTES
STR: 12
CON: 8
SIZ: 13
DEX: 13
APP: 12
INT: 13 (Idea - 65)
POW: 11 (Luck - 55)
EDU: 21 (Knowledge - 99)

SKILLS
Academics (Health Sciences): 86%
Climb: 75%
Computer Use: 36%
Dodge: 46%
Fast Talk: 45%
First Aid: 70%
Grapple: 70%
Jump: 70%
Medicine: 45%
Research: 70%
Ride (Horses): 25%
Sciences (Nutrition): 66%
Swim: 40%

Background: Cliff is a quiet single professor of health sciences and nutrition. He occasionally competes in cycling events and constantly trains his body, maintaining a healthy diet.

Appearance & Personality: Cliff is a slim boy, but muscular in the distance-runner way with built legs and thighs, and has piercing blue eyes that go well with his blond hair. He normally wears athletic-styled clothing, even to work at the local college, where it only seems natural to... especially since he jogs there every morning.


DJDEMIKO

Name: Timothy Braderville
Age: 46
Sex: Male
Occupation: High School Biology/Chemistry Teacher/Retired Military Scientist
Birthplace: Wise, WA, U.S.A.

STATUS
Hit Points: 9
Fate Points: 10
Damage Bonus: +0

ATTRIBUTES
STR: 9
CON: 10
SIZ: 8
DEX: 10
APP: 9
INT: 17 (Idea - 85)
POW: 10 (Luck - 50)
EDU: 20 (Knowledge - 99)

SKILLS
Academics (Natural History): 41%
Computer Use: 41%
Explosives: 41%
Firearms (Rifle): 65%
First Aid: 70%
Heavy Machinery: 41%
Insight: 50%
Language (???): 26%
Medicine: 45%
Navigate: 60%
Research: 35%
Sciences (Biochemistry): 61%
Sense: 30%
Spot Hidden: 45%
Survival: 35%

Background: Tim was a brilliant, poor and patriotic. However, due to various circumstances, when he graduated from high school he was only able to receive partial scholarships and he just wasn’t going to be able to afford to work and go to school. Fortunately, this is where the army stepped in. The deal seemed great to young Tim. He would go to school on their dime and then join up to perform his patriotic duty when he was done.
He studied a variety of subjects, primarily natural history and biochemistry. On the weekends he participated in ROTC training and during one summer he barely survived basic training. It wasn’t that he didn’t find combat and weapons interesting, it was just that as a small and relatively nerdy person, the strain of the training was a bit much for him.

Upon graduation Tim began to work in a research and testing capacity for the military. He worked on projects, some simple, some complex, some open and some top secret. At first Tim loved helping the good 'ol USA, but over time these feelings began to fade. Tim realized that everything he did was to create things to kill things. It became too much for him when he saw a tape of one of his projects being used to kill a group of insurgents.

He left and decided he wanted to try to give back. He went to his old high school, learned they had an opening for a biology and chemistry teacher and he took the job.

Appearance & Personality: Tim is a small middle-aged man. He is below average height with brown graying hair and brown eyes. He has a badly trimmed mustache and tends to wear khakis with long sleeve buttoned mono-colored shirts. His personality is cautious and fearful, but curious. He still sees himself as a teacher.




“The more we exploit nature, the more our options are reduced, until we have only one: to fight for survival.”
MORRIS K. UDALL, U.S. Politician

It started about a month ago, maybe a bit more. One day, it was hot. Hot, as in shorts-and-a-polo-shirt sort of hot. In the middle of September. It was unusual, but a little crazy weather was nothing to get over excited about. It was an extra line thrown casually into the evening news report, a little paragraph scrawled onto the bottom of the third page in the paper. So we did what all Americans would do - pulled out the summer wardrobe and enjoyed the novelty of having a day at the beach in September. It was fun, until the next day was hot too. That started to garner a bit more attention, especially since it started getting sort of humid, too. The morning fog wasn't morning fog - it was suspended water vapor, just hanging there in the air. It must have been at least 86 degrees that day, give or take a bit. Goddamn, it was September, and people were sweating like pigs.

It's been the same ever since. Wise, our little city, south of Seattle, of the U.S. of A.'s west coast. We were used to being drenched with rain and blinded with coastal fog. We all kept an umbrella at hand and a raincoat in the closet, and now, all of a sudden, our climate shifted to the steaming humidity of a equatorial rain-forest. It didn't make sense. The scientists, the meteorologists, the climatologists, the news reporters, the government, they had no explanation for it. It wasn't even a disaster necessarily, so the cops couldn't do anything about it. Nobody was being hurt...well, a couple senior citizens got heat strokes, but that was about it. It was an enigma, an oddity of nature that defied all explanation...so we lived with it. Then a week later, things got that much stranger...

Animals were going berserk. Not all of them, but a couple of them would spontaneously revert back to some sort of primal instinct, their minds stuck in the instinct driven fight-or-flight mode. It started like that. Dogs loyal for years would suddenly snarl at their loved owners and flee, cats would break their claws pawing at the door for escape, mice would chew their teeth down to nothing and bloody their gums chewing at the metal doors in a single-minded attempt at escape. This worried veterinarians. Animal behaviour specialists were called into news studios all around to be interviewed, only for the waiting populace to find out that they knew nothing. They were as clueless as us. A week later, the gears changed. Someone had taken the lever on the flight-or-flight scale and jammed it all the way to fight. Dog maulings, farmers gored by their sedate cattle, children attacked by feral cats, and random citizens mobbed by swarms of crows and seagulls, all in sweltering unnatural heat.

The state of Washington called a state of emergency, as did the rest of the States...and Canada...and Mexico. Europe, South America, the rest of the world, who knew. Whatever was happening in their countries, it wasn't important enough to make the papers for the past weeks. For the past few weeks the papers were full of scientific discussions about the climate and animal behaviour, not to mention the various other things that had occurred. Plants erupted from the forests to overtake the land that man had claimed. Within less than a month the outer edges of the city had been reclaimed by crawling vines and creeping tendrils, green shoots extending ever forward. The growth of a year occurred in a week, and cement foundations were weakened by invading roots and tubers. Sudden explosions of molds occurred in cellars and basements all over the city, releasing toxic spores and forcing hundreds to leave their houses. Everything was going to hell, and no one knew anything. Nothing.

They started the shelters roughly around the time when packs of feral dogs were roaming the streets and when noxious spores forced people out of their homes, when wooden sheds were reclaimed by nature and buildings were overtaken by the advancing wall of green. They herded people into stadiums, town halls, and community centers. The army came in, marines and all. They sent out patrols, jeeps with machine-guns and men in green, protecting the panicked citizens of Wise from roving dogs and seemingly suicidal crows.

A week later, and things changed again.

It was the animals again. They were changing again, but this time, it was physical. No one knows if the animals themselves were transforming (IMPOSSIBLE! cried the scientists) or if they were birthing young that were different, some sort of twisted accelerated evolution (IMPLAUSIBLE! cried the scientists), but in any case, they were changing. Pigeons - it was the pigeons at first. The little flying rats had tripled in size and morphed into some sort of pseudo-dodo, a chubby little fowl with a massive beak and iridescent neck. Cockroaches climbed out of sewer grates, foot-long insectoid monstrosities that were quickly overtaking the buildings that had been abandoned. Seagulls also grew larger, and started resembling some sort of vulture with a serrated beak. Dogs lost their fur. At first it was presumed to be some sort of city-wide mange, but when they stopped walking and started shambling, when their incisors and canines and molars became fangs and fangs and fangs, the public wizened up.

The shelters became mandatory. Squadrons of soldiers would be sent into neighbourhoods with strict orders - find civilians and get them back to the shelters, by any means necessary. Martial law was enforced. Bodies began filling the streets. Dodo-esque pigeons ripped the flesh of the rotting corpses of strangely reptilian pseudo-dogs.

That was then, this is now. It's been about a week since they sealed off the stadium completely. There's one entrance in, and one entrance out. The soldiers are everywhere, and they've withdrawn into the stadium as well. It was a football stadium once, the renowned Waits Stadium, the proud child of the much hated taxes a couple years before. It was the jewel of Wise, a 'state-of-the-art' completely 'modern' football stadium. Today, it was covered in sterile white plastic canvas, something the military had done. They had covered the entire stadium in the white sheets, erecting tent after tent of the same material. Some of them were hospitals, others were barracks. The civilians had mostly free roam everywhere except the strictly military area, but that didn't mean much. There were three hundred or so civilians in the stadium, and most of them were in different states of trauma, panic, or mourning.

Things had been stale lately, and tensions were on the rise. The radios cut out a couple days ago, and there's been nothing but static then. A couple times every day for the past couple days the lights and power have flickered on and off. The stadium is secure enough with enough of a military presence to ward off any threats, but the outside world has been invisible ever since they sealed off the stadium. The past couple days have been unnerving...though the walls are thick, occasionally the shrill cries and deafening roars of...things...still manage to penetrate the cement foundations of the stadium. Whatever is out there, it's growing.

OOC: Welcome to Gaia, let's hope for a good game. All of you are scattered and part of the civilian crowd, save for Blockhead, who is part of the military. Role-play as you wish, and try for some early character development so I feel bad about killing your character off. Oh wait...I mean...hehe, nevermind. :smallwink:

[painintheear]

Cliff Clyde did all he could to help save his sanity inside the dome: pace, and think, and pace, and think, and teach.

Clyde taught all who would listen how to make do on the little rations they had; beans and rice were a good combination and gave whole proteins, meats might need to be avoided due to the conditions - they might cause food poisoning. Clyde also quickly volunteered to help with the rationing committees that formed, trying hardily to avert them from the simplicity of greed - everyone was going to have to sacrifice, and feeding some people well while starving others was only likely to breed insanity.

Clyde was in the middle of a small lect-

The lights flash, the second time today, and the hisses and growls roar deafeningly into the stadium sending small children and weaker minded into shock and tears. "Never" said Clyde, "eat that." For the first time in days he, and others around him, gave out a short laugh...

[Kuma Da]

Caleb Maxon

Try caging a mountain lion. Really. Put it behind bars and watch as it paces and claws and scours its prison for a single weak point. One vulnerability for it to pick at until, finally, it comes free in a blur of claws and sound. Living vengeance.

Caleb spend his days in the Waits Stadium in an almost hyper-active state. He paced the diameter of the civilian area several times, before deciding that there weren't any exits the military had overlooked. Then he began approaching off-duty soldiers. Not to fish for information--that would come later--but to try and make friends. It never hurt to have heavily armed men thinking they were on your side.

Caleb's skin itched, and not for the first time he wished he had his Remington back. 'Confiscated for use during times of emergency'? Bull-****. They didn't trust him with a gun in his hands.

This coming from the same government that had once protected his right to bear arms, so that he might defend himself in times of need.

It was enough to make a man spit.

OOC: Question for Garden: What do Fate Points do? I'm guessing they're gonna be similar to the Fury in Dread?

Also, question for Blockhead: has Caleb met Freddy during his attempts to make friends with the guards?

[Blockhead]

Freddy Biscuit


The walls of the skyscrapers had become invisible due to the huge wall of moss and jungle vine that hung from the windows and plunged down through the pavement. Freddy's squad had been called in to help with the civilian evacuation, searching in the more populated areas of the city. The road was bumpy and the hummer bounced off yet another broken piece of road surface.

Linda was driving, she was an average soldier, skilled at a great deal of things, she was the generic grunt of the army, until it came to R&R where she partied like one of the guys. John, the squad leader, was in the passenger seat, Freddy had remember that quite well. John was a very by-the-book marine and had the utmost respect from his squad mates. Freddy had sat in the back with Derrick, the medic and Paul, the 'crackshot'.

The city was a looming jungle and would of looked quite beautiful if it had lively people living in and around it. As it was, there were tell-tale signs of violence and human death, but the marines in the Hummer didn't dwell on that too much, it was the very much alive people they were concerned about. "You understand our objective guys?" Asked John, turning around to face the back of the Hummer. Nods were exchanged around the vehicle and John turned to Freddy. "You understand... don't you... Freddy? ...Freddy? ....Freddy? ....Freddy?..."

"Freddy? Freddy! Wake up man, you were having a bad dream!" Said a marine, standing next to the cot Freddy was laying in, shaking him. "It's our duty shift Freddy. Cmon, get yourself together and let's go before the Sergeant has our hides." He said. Freddy rubbed his eyes and pushed off the tatty cover off his cot. He was in one of the many 'barrack' tents reserved for the military personel. Lamps were placed here and there and they flickered once before Freddy hauled himself up out of bed and opened his chest of belongings, putting on his uniform. The marine who had woken him up he hadn't know for very long, only so long as he had been stationed at the stadium, but it seemed they were already becoming friends.

Freddy and the marine exited the tent and the roar of quiet moans, conversation and crying could be heard. They made their way over to one of the many command tents and saluted the duty sergeant there. "Evening gentlemen. Not much to report today, your duties for today are to patrol the tents and assist the refugees with whatever food, medical or comfort needs they can reasonably be allowed to have. You are dismissed." The duty sergeant waved them out and Freddy and the marine left without a word.

Both of them knew they couldn't hold up in the stadium forever and it would only be a matter of time before they would have to leave the stadium in search of food and supplies. Freddy wandered through the various tents, seeing families crying over the loss of their loved ones, others trying to cope and other's just sleeping, quietly, in their cots. "Hey, I'll catch up with you later, I've got a friend to see." Said the other marine. Freddy nodded and continued walking along the row of tents.

(OOC: You can 'introduce' yourself now if you like)

[gardenphilosoph]

OOC: Yeah, Fate Points are an abstract concept I'm working on. The actual system calls them Power Points and they're to be used for magic and the like, but since we don't have that I'm thinking I'll just use them like Fury in Dread, for bonus rolls and the like. I don't know, don't worry about them yet.

Also, great roleplaying you guys! This will be an awesome game.

[DJDeMiko]

Tim

Tim stood in a group of men and women. He listened patiently to a tired and fearful man speaking. When the man was done, Tim replied.

"John, I think you are belaboring the point," Tim said, "Everyone one of us with any background in science agrees that what is happening is completely impossible. What I'm trying to explain is that, as we can also all agree is that it IS happening. Since it IS happening we must assume that either their is a wholly unknown aspect of nature that our science has never discovered or that the laws of science have suddenly chanced."

The man, John, started to interrupt Tim but Tim spoke quickly to cut him off.

"No I'm sorry John and to be honest instead of arguing over what might be happening, who is to blame or how impossible it all is, I think that those of us with scientific background should be offering our knowledge and skills to the military. I don't relish the idea myself, the military spends all of its time creating deadly weapons, but we could be part of the only chance to try and fix whatever is happening."

[painintheear]

Dr. Clyde

Cliff, during the hours he wasn't pacing around, thinking, or lecturing began to actually talk to some people. More importantly, Cliff began to listen to them, and many were becoming restless. Truthfully, he remembered, so was he but all the same he knew it wasn't good and everything was going to get exaggerated in everyone's mind if they didn't all just calm down. While trying to ensure his fellow dome-mates were keeping a somewhat healthy diet and urging them do some basic exercise did some help to keep the tensions down, the professor certainly felt he could do more.

Pacing back and forth he thought of some ideas, mostly about the enemy at large. "Enemy" Cliff repeated the word in his mind, "enemy... is there an enemy at all?" People around him and all about the dome were talking about a menacing presence outside and maybe, just maybe there wasn't one. Sure, the roaring and scratching outside was scary and lately animals had been acting strangely, but could it all be for help? The larger threat seemed elsewhere, the animals raving about only a minor inconvenience in something much more sinister. In all the behavioral classes he'd ever taken it seemed like the animals just wanted in for safety... animals flock to the safest point, its instinctive.

Cliff noticed a guard pull a small pocket knife away from a young woman and hand it to an army-type soldier. He noticed the soldier head out towards the edge of the dome, a majority of the soldiers were at the edge now trying to figure out the situation immediately outside of the dome. It looked odd all the soldiers on the outside with weapons and the defenseless civilians being surround - no, Cliff was being stupid and just needed to get back to his work on the food rationing boards; being hungry could have a negative effect on a man.

[gardenphilosoph]

Freddy Biscuit

"Freddy! Get your ass over here." ordered one of the superior officers. It was Miller, a First Lieutenant that no one particularly liked. He was paranoid, touchy, and especially commandeering. That attitude, along with the thick black mustache he sported on his angular face, gave him the unofficial nickname of 'Stalin'. It was a running joke among the lower rank and file of the U.S.M.C., one that would surely end in disaster if Miller overheard it. Still, it was funny. Unfortunately, Stalin was in charge of security for the Waits Stadium, or as it had now become known, Civilian Shelter A-91487. "Listen up, Private. I'm appointing you to shelter security. Patrol the civilian area and look for potential security threats - people in these situations tend to get nervous and rally against anything they can. In this case, it's us, and we don't need angry civilians on our hands, not now, not ever.

He paused, turning you towards the crowds. "That man, there." He pointed towards a middle-aged blonde man who had been lecturing the crowds about nutrition and rationing, as well as volunteering to help with distributing food. "He's got the crowds paying attention. Same as that man on the other side." He pointed toward an older, more sophisticated-looking man. He was in the middle of a debate with another man, apparently discussing the science of whatever was happening outside. "And lastly...that guy there." He pointed to a wiry man trying to befriend some of the relaxing army guys. The guy himself was dressed in army surplus and carrying a worn rucksack. He looked like trouble.

Patting you on the shoulder, Miller leaves. "Get to it, Private!"


Caleb Maxon

You tried to befriend a couple of the more relaxed army guys, the rank and file that were stuck herding the civilian crowds. It wasn't too successful. Most of them were young, in their early twenties, and just laughed off the guy who was dressed in army surplus and steel-toed boots.

They thought you were a joke.


Cliff Clyde

You were earning tired smiles of thanks from a lot of the civilians, having helped the emergency workers deliver out rations. In the down time, you had been able to educate small groups of people and the importance of nutrition and the proper way to ration their meals. A couple dozen people respected you, and you had gained the thanks and respect of the emergency workers.

Things were going well, though you did notice a couple of the army guys - and not the rank and file, the higher-ups - eye you every once in a while.


Timothy Braderville

John scoffed at your 'help the military' speech. "The military? The military are men with guns, what could they do to help us besides shoot off whatever those things are outside there? Sure, they have science wings that could probably figure this out, but we're in Waits Stadium, not the Pentagon!

No, no, we need to contact a larger military body. They've isolated in this stadium with limited supplies and food. Sooner or later, we'll have to unseal this place to get more supplies. Things will be even worse then. A couple weeks ago, it was just hot. Today, we're in a military-run Waits Stadium-turned-civilian shelter. If we wait until later, things will just get worse, whatever those...things...are."

John was a well-spoken man, a genetic anthropologist from the University of Wise. He was cynical and pessimistic though, and particularly untrusted of the military, despite being rather smart.


OOC: You're free to read the entire post and not just your own blurb, depending on how you'd like to play this game. If you want the maximum mystery/survival-horror effect, I'd advise only reading your little blurb.

[Kuma Da]

Caleb

Dissent is an ugly, writhing thing that starts deep in a man's bowels. It takes a powerful long time to reach his brain, but once it does it settles in and just starts twisting. Constricting. Cutting off the flow of oxygen to all the logical bits and leaving doubt to take control of the rest.

By the time Caleb has said his "see you later"s and walked on, dissent has found its way into his stomach, curdling the acid around it.

They're not going to trust you. They have their guns and their uniforms and their credo, and that makes them just so much better than the men they were sent here to protect. And a piss-poor job they've been doing of that. If you want a man to be safe, you teach him how to fight. How to defend himself against the **** dirty punches this world throws. You do not round him up and put him in a cage and tell him that he is oh so very safe. That's what farmers do to sheep. That's why sheep are dragged off by wolves.

On the heels of that thought follows another one. Much darker.

If I don't do something soon, these military men might just be the death of me.

[DJDeMiko]

Tim

"I agree John," Tim says, "but I don't want to go by these soldiers backs for that. We need to try to get a meeting with the people in charge and discuss how to best use our expertise."

[painintheear]

Cliff Clyde

Professor Clyde knew that poor nutrition, which even he carried in this scenario, could cause one to be paranoid but he could still feel the higher-up personnel staring at him. Clyde's instinct was to hide, but that was silly - these were military men, meaning only to help him. He knew that. But still something was bothering him.

Clyde decided to walk up to one of them, and greet them... mention his work with the rationing and see if they approved. He'd treat, no matter how his leanings to the intellectuals might be, the man of order as... well, a man of order. After a brief chat everything should be straight in his mind, but who knows what will be said?

ooc: shall I do a fast-talk roll? if so [roll0]

[Blockhead]

Freddy Biscuit

Freddy listened to what the 'nutritional scientist' had to say and nodded. "I personally think what you are doing is important and helpful, and I respect that. Although some of my superiors are a little suspicious of you, maybe because you hold the civilian attention so much. As long as stick to helpful topics that keep the people and the military safe, you should be fine." Said Freddy.

[gardenphilosoph]

Cliff Clyde & Freddy Biscuit

Cliff's short interaction with Freddy was more than enough to keep watchful eyes off him. Cliff was just a nutritional scientist who was more than happy to help out with the disaster, as far as the military was concerned.

In other words, you rolled a fantastic Fast Talk success.


Timothy Braderville

"Right...right." John pauses, thinking. "Well...we're both learned men, with degrees and all, right? I bet we could get some sort of audience with them if we tried. Come on, let's go find some one we can talk to and sort this mess out."

He strode purposefully off toward the direction of the military base camp.


Caleb Maxon

You spot some one in the crowd. Perhaps it's your paranoia, perhaps it's the beer you just had, or perhaps it's your keen senses, but...the man seems to be striding directly toward you, clad in full military uniform. There's a couple shiny metal bits on his uniform. He's a Private.

****, he's ugly too.


OOC: Right now, I need to get your characters linked together some how. Freddy has just made brief contact with Cliff...

Guys, I'm absolutely psyched to say that I've started working in conjunction with a brilliant artist and mind named Rodrigo Vega, or by the internet alias IRIRIV (http://iririv.deviantart.com/). You have to check out his work. Not only are his illustration skills ridiculous, but the concepts behind his drawings are of a vein very similar to this. In any case, he's helped with with some setting ideas and drew up a few concepts for the...creatures...you'll be coming up against.

[Kuma Da]

Caleb

Don't look directly at him. Don't look away. Just let your eyes slide off and get walking. Slowly. Drop the beer can and angle it in the wrong direction. Weave in and out of rows of pup tents. Don't socialize. Keep your head up. Find a crowd.

There. Those two professors arguing. Blend in and wait for them to wrap up...good. Now scatter with everyone else.

Hide check: [roll0] out of 50

OOC: That's fantastic, philosoph. And IR's work looks amazing. I'm definitely looking forward to running away from some of that stuff. :smallbiggrin:

[DJDeMiko]

Tim

Follows john.

[gardenphilosoph]

Caleb Maxon

You duck and weave in and out of crowds, and sooner or later you loose him in the mass of faces. You're safe for now...but what was that all about?

Successful Hide roll, good job.


Timothy Braderville, Freddy Biscuit, & Cliff Clyde

The two of you (Tim & Cliff) stride around the military areas trying to find some one to speak to, but there seems to only be rank and file and the private military camps. The rank and file dodge all your questions and fail to be of further help.

Wait...ahead you spot a man in full military gear with a couple of badges on his uniform. He's not just rank and file, and already seems to be helping a middle-aged man with a bundle of rations in his hands.

[Kuma Da]

Caleb

Alright. We're in the clear. Now, let's double back and see what his deal was.

OOC: Tracking, to follow Freddy unawares. [roll0] out of 40.

[Kuma Da]

OOC: Whoops. Stealth, also. [roll0] out of 50.

Edit: Oh, jeeze. HAY GAIZ IM RIGHT HERE! I guess I should be glad that's out of the way.

[gardenphilosoph]

Caleb doubles back, following Freddy and the others.

Two children suddenly dart across Caleb's path, and he falls, sprawling out on the floor in front of Tim, Freddy, and Cliff. Oops.

OOC: Yeah, so that's an example of a Critical Failure, or in other terms, a 'HAY GAIZ IM RIGHT HERE!' in the case of a Stealth roll. :smallbiggrin:

Also, if you guys were wondering about advancement or improving your character in GAIA, basically, every time you successfully use a skill you get a check for it. I indicate this by highlighting the word in green. At certain checkpoints, I'll allow you to roll a d100 for the skill. If you get higher than your skill, you get to roll...I think it's a d6, but I'll get back to you on that...to improve the skill. Basically, the more talented you are in a skill the harder it is for you to learn more.

[painintheear]

Cliff looks around, very confused about what is going on, everything seemed 'fine' - well, as fine as could be for this situation - just a second ago. He tries to ask Freddie or anyone around him what the commotion is all about.

yeah, seriously you guys just lost me... all of a sudden I'm following people I didn't know just a second ago, huh? ...huh?

[gardenphilosoph]

OOC: Alright, here's the situation.

Freddy, an army Private, has been tasked with pursuing possible security issues - basically anyone who's not just lying down and succumbing to shock and/or depression. That's basically all the player characters.

Freddy goes after Cliff first, who with a successful Fast Talk roll manages to convince him that he's not a threat. At this point Tim as well as an NPC John spot Freddy, and seeing that he's an army private, approach him.

So that's happening, and Caleb suddenly trips over some children and lands smack dab in the middle of it all.

And thus the player characters are united. So Blockhead and painintheear are talking to each other, while DJDeMiko and an NPC have shown up to talk to Blockhead. Just as that happens, Kuma Da lands embarrassingly in the middle of everything.

[DJDeMiko]

Tim

"Excuse me sir," Tim says politely to the Private, "My compatriot and I are trying to get an audience with someone in charge to discuss how we might be of assistance. As it so happens, we are both scientists." Tim pushes his glasses back onto his nose.

[Blockhead]

Freddy Biscuit


Tim

"Excuse me sir," Tim says politely to the Private, "My compatriot and I are trying to get an audience with someone in charge to discuss how we might be of assistance. As it so happens, we are both scientists." Tim pushes his glasses back onto his nose.

"I appreciate your eagerness to help citizens, it is important for everyone to pitch in with the relief efforts. I suppose I could talk to my duty sergeant or you could ask an emergancy worker for something to do. Do you have medical or psychological training? We're in need of competent doctors and we could always use more counsellors." Replied Freddy.


Two children suddenly dart across Caleb's path, and he falls, sprawling out on the floor in front of Tim, Freddy, and Cliff. Oops.

"Are you alright citizen?" Asks Freddy, helping the man up. "I've seen you walking around the tents and talking to some of our boys, are you looking for somebody?" Quizzed Freddy, having realised this was the man that he was following a short while ago.

[DJDeMiko]

Freddy Biscuit

"I appreciate your eagerness to help citizens, it is important for everyone to pitch in with the relief efforts. I suppose I could talk to my duty sergeant or you could ask an emergancy worker for something to do. Do you have medical or psychological training? We're in need of competent doctors and we could always use more counsellors." Replied Freddy.
.

Tim smiles politly and says, "I am not a doctor, but in my last life I was a biochemist for the military. I think I may be able to pitch in a hand at figuring out whats happening or at least how to survive it."

[Kuma Da]

Caleb

"Are you alright citizen? I've seen you walking around the tents and talking to some of our boys, are you looking for somebody?"

Caleb accepts the proffered hand warily. A pair of cuffs is not slapped immediately across his wrist, so he stands up and does his best to address the situation.

"I was jus' bein' social, is all. You boys have been doin' your level best to protect us, and I feel like I should get to know a person that looks out for me. 'sides, things have been awful dull in here. 'thought maybe I could lend y'all a hand.

Name's Caleb, by the way. Caleb Maxon. But y'all're welcome to call me Buddy."

As he talks, he tries to surreptitiously scan his surroundings. See if maybe more of the military men are headed towards him.

OOC: Caleb picked up the accent when he was traveling cross-country to Seattle. This is why he speaks it, but doesn't really think in it.

Also, rolling a spot hidden to stay on the alert for other soldiers. [roll0] vs. 75

[Blockhead]

Freddy Biscuit


"I am not a doctor, but in my last life I was a biochemist for the military. I think I may be able to pitch in a hand at figuring out whats happening or at least how to survive it."

"Heh, you're probably a higher rank than me!" Chuckled Freddy. "I'll talk to my duty sergeant, I'm not actually involved in the running of this place, I just keep order citizen."


"I was jus' bein' social, is all. You boys have been doin' your level best to protect us, and I feel like I should get to know a person that looks out for me. 'sides, things have been awful dull in here. 'thought maybe I could lend y'all a hand.

Name's Caleb, by the way. Caleb Maxon. But y'all're welcome to call me Buddy."

Freddy laughed. "It's good to know we're apprieciated around here! Don't worry citizen, we'll protect you and everybody else here from any danger." He said. "If you want to help, talk to an emergancy worker, see if they need a hand; the military has everything else under control. And I'm Private Freddy Biscuit of the United States Marine Core, but you can call me Freddy." Winked Freddy.

[gardenphilosoph]

Freddy's radio buzzes as a transmission comes in, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Private Biscuit, we have a situation unfolding downstairs. Please report immediately."

It was the grizzled voice of Stalin, and he sounded slightly unnerved.

[painintheear]

Clyde started to go up to the eager helper approaching the ranked officer, thinking it'd be nice to have a friend and a fellow helper - an honest seeming helper - on the rations team. But that was before Stalin roared into the arena.

Cliff Clyde suddenly got a eerie feeling at the sudden epiphany... it was like they, the survivors, were gladiators in an arena: lions roaring and the growling of the crowds around them waiting for more excitement. Maybe it was too early to call himself a 'survivor' yet.

Dr. Clyde looked at the sky and imagined, if there were such a thing, a god speaking to him from the heavens. Instead he heard Stalin...

epic post is epic, I know

[Blockhead]

Freddy Biscuit

"Yes sir!" Replied Freddy. Making sure his radio was turned off, he said: "At once, comrade! For the motherland!" Desperately trying to contain his laughter, Freddy addressed the eager citizens around him. "Sorry, but the Bear is calling." Said Freddy as he walked away and burst out laughing. After walking a few steps, Freddy turned and called out: "Ask the emergancy workers if you want to help. If you want to stay out of trouble, don't go snooping around military matters!" And with that, Freddy disappeared into the forest of tents and people.

Freddy arrived downstairs within minutes, as he was ordered, having regained his composure.

[Kuma Da]

Caleb

Caleb crosses his arms and leans back, shifting his weight onto his heels as he watches Freddy walk away.

"They have 'situation unfolding?' What a quaint way'a sayin' someone **** inta the fan." Caleb does a quick run-through of his gear. It's all distributed throughout his backpack, the pockets of his fatigues, and the machete sheath strapped to his right leg. "Y'all do what ya want. I reckon I'll go talk ta those emergency workers."

OOC: Holy crap! Where did all those MRE come from? I didn't think I asked for 21 of them...but I'm not gonna complain.

Also, Caleb's gonna go lend a hand if he can find a first aid station or something like that. Rolling first aid in case it's needed. [roll0] out of 50.

[gardenphilosoph]

Private Biscuit

After a series of sterile maintenance hallways and small, cramped stairwells, you arrive at the small room where Stalin and a handful of other soldiers await.

One of the soldiers, a man by the name of Thomas, stood in a corner, sweating profusely with a long scratch on his left arm. It was bleeding, but it was shallow and only a flesh wound.

"Private, I sent Thomas here down to fix the fuse boxes. Apparently the...enemy...has gotten in here as well. Bugs. Big ones. In any case, we thought we had the building sealed off - if it's not...

We at least need the fuses fixed. The generators aren't going to last long in a state of emergency, so we need to rewire them to use less energy, or else the lights could shut off at an-"

With a slow murmur, all the electricity in the stadium died.

Screams and shouts began to sound from upstairs.


Cliff, Tim, and Caleb

With a slow murmur, all the electricity in the stadium died. The stadium plummeted into pitch blackness, and it was impossible to see anything more than a foot in front of you.

Screams and shouts sounded from the darkness. The crowd was panicking.


OOC: That was an epic post, painintheear. Nice job. :smallbiggrin:

Also, I highly recommend NOT reading posts not intended to you in this particular case.

Kuma Da, you said a week's supply. Three meals a day times seven days a week...that's 21. I mean you could probably cut it down to 1 a day if you needed to, but...

[Blockhead]

Freddy Biscuit

Freddy took a second to adjust to the darkness, it was rather unnerving. "I understand sir, I am to escort an engineer to the fuse boxs or am I to repair the fuse boxs myself?" Asked Freddy. "And I'll need a torch, sir." Added Freddy. In the darkness, nobody realised that the statement was a sarcastic one.

[gardenphilosoph]

Private Biscuit

"You should be competent enough, Private. And what, the flashlight on your M16 not working? Pff, torch. What is this, Biscuit, Britain?"

The trapdoor down to the stadium's extensive wiring is small and leads straight down into cramped, circular tunnels that aren't tall enough to walk in without crouching down. All the while, everything is bathed in pure darkness.

[Blockhead]

((Shush Mr. American! I'm trying :smallbiggrin:! M16, sweet! Then again I have no full knowledge of standard marine gear. I'm about to walk into one of those generic horror movie bits... let's hope I packed some clean underwear!))

Freddy Biscuit

"Very good sir! I shall be back in a jiffy!" Freddy had to bite his lip to stop himself laughing. He slowly descended the metal ladder into the tunnels. He walked a few steps and tried to turn his flashlight on. It didn't work. Freddy tapped it hard with his fingers and it flickered to life, illuminating his face. Satisfied, he pointed it down the the tunnels....

[Kuma Da]

Caleb

"Aw, ****. Don't nobody run me over." Caleb kneels down, unslings his backpack, and fumbles out his lantern and a lighter. It takes him a couple of tries, but eventually he gets the gas running and ignited without burning his fingers too badly. Shouldering the backpack again, he holds the lantern high overhead and starts walking towards the area of the stadium that the army's guarding. "I think I'm gonna go be where all the guns are, just in case. Ya'll are welcome ta follow."

[gardenphilosoph]

Private Biscuit

The tunnel was extremely small and dark, and you had to crouch almost half-way down just to struggle down its claustrophobic confines. In your military kevlar and bulletproof helmet, you felt more than a little awkward struggling through a minute tunnel.

Another thing you realized was how supremely quiet it was down here. A couple feet of concrete muted out all the background noise you were so used to. There was supposed to be a room a couple feet ahead - it was pitch black though, and your flashlight only illuminated a couple feet ahead.

OOC: Can I get a Listen roll please? You're not skilled in Listen, so your default chance is 25%. Now roll a d100 and hope for the best.

Also, what is Freddy armed with? I'm ruling that it's too confined down here to use the M16, so you can pick between his pistol or a combat knife. Ammunition is limited as well, remember that.

Also, I've updated Freddy's equipment list on the front page. He's pretty seriously armed - helmet, kevlar, M16, semi-automatic pistol, and combat knife. Expect to be the group's designated protector, at least until you run out of ammo or your equipment malfunctions. :smallbiggrin:


OOC: Pssh, I'm Canadian, the hybrid combination between English and American slang. We put U's in our words like crazy, but we call flashlights flashlights and not torches. :smallwink:

[painintheear]

Clyde, spooked, sits down and balls himself up, protecting his head like in one of those grade-school tornado drills. All the time hoping no one would start running around like mad.

[DJDeMiko]

Tim

The lights go out, survivors begin to panick.

Tim glances around, his spectacled gaze finding nothing in the darkness and he says quietly "this will be bad."

[gardenphilosoph]

Caleb, Tim, and Cliff

Caleb scrambles away, his lantern illuminating the panicked bodies of the public suddenly plummeted into darkness. Eventually he reaches a line of soldiers, all with the mounted flashlights on their M16s turned on.

The public is totally panicked. Most of the civilians are cowered into corners are starting to panic and run...

Soon, it will be widespread chaos.

[Blockhead]

Freddy Biscuit

Well, I'm training in Handguns, not knives, although you'd expect a marine to carry a knife anyway. So I'll be using the handgun for now

Freddy crouched through the tunnels, hoping to stand up and click his back at somepoint. He thought he heard something in the almost complete silence and tried to pinpoint it. [roll0] vs (Listen) 25%


EDIT: OOC: Great, I'm deaf!

[gardenphilosoph]

Private Biscuit

You continue to crawl through the maintenance tunnel, suppressing urges to panic. You notice that it's cold down in the tunnel, which is under several feet of concrete and earth. You haven't felt the sensation of cold in over a month, ever since the climate started getting hot and muggy.

Eventually, you emerge into a small room, filled with wiring and small fuse boxes, labeled by pieces of tape left by the maintenance workers. You can finally stand, and do so...it feels good to stretch.

You notice little ruptures in the wall, near the corners. There are holes a foot or two in diameter, crudely punched through the cement walls. Other than that, the room has nothing unusual, besides the usual smell of dank earth and mold.

After looking though the fuse boxes, you find the one you're looking for.

OOC: I need a Repair roll to rewire the fuse box.

Also, for knives, you have a default 25% chance, but yeah perhaps the pistol would be a better choice for now.

[Blockhead]

Freddy Biscuit

"Hmmm... must get those holes patched up...." Thought Freddy. He inserted his flashlight into his mouth as he fumbled with the repair box, making both hands available. [roll0] vs (Repair) 60%

[painintheear]

Let's hope that counts, I mean it was supposed to be d100, right? oh, well, 5 times 5 equals 25 out of a 100... here's to hoping

Cliff Clyde
not much to do, really... I just stay in my current position; best to stay calm, eh?

[Blockhead]

OOC: DAMN! That was rather, rather silly of me! *slaps self* I'll roll a proper d100 now and see what I get. If I fail this d100 roll, you can deduct a Fate Point and we'll call it a success, deal? Ok, here goes [roll0] VS (Repair) 60%

EDIT: Woo! Got lucky there! I'll try not to make such a silly mistake again in the future, I seem to be making a few here and there.

[DJDeMiko]

Tim

Tim will try to calm anyone around him but he isn't about to go storming off int he dark.

[gardenphilosoph]

Private Biscuit

You start to reconnect a couple wires, disconnecting unnecessary power drainage and various other electrical facilities that won't be needed any longer. It takes a few minutes, but you successfully rewire the fuse box. If the city's generators are still on, then the power should turn on within the next few minutes.

Suddenly, you hear scratching of chittering, coming from the direction of the holes. Something, or many things, are simultaneously making clicking noises and scratching the concrete.


Tim & Cliff

Things have descended into chaos. All around you the crowds have frenzied, and everything is a mass of shifting bodies and panicking civilians. John has been swallowed into the crowd, as well as the man who tripped on the floor earlier. You two are alone, bound by nothing but the mutual search for army authority.

It is not quite pitch black, for most of the soldiers have turned on the flashlights mounted onto their guns. The dull illumination only serves to light up the chaos that is unfolding.

Suddenly, there is screaming at the entrance. The crowd is yelling for escape, but the soldiers are trying to hold them off. A couple armed soldiers versus hundreds of frenzied civilians...things don't look too good.


Caleb Maxon

Things have descended into chaos. All around you the crowds have frenzied, and everything is a mass of shifting bodies and panicking civilians. It is not quite pitch black, for most of the soldiers have turned on the flashlights mounted onto their guns. The dull illumination only serves to light up the chaos that is unfolding.

Suddenly, there is screaming at the entrance. The crowd is yelling for escape, but the soldiers are trying to hold them off. A couple armed soldiers versus hundreds of frenzied civilians...things don't look too good.

The soldiers around you look nervous and stressed. Whatever they were prepared for, it wasn't crowd control in an urban state of emergency.

[painintheear]

Cliff

"Tim, whatever we do we need to stick together. We should try to gather as many people together as we can and huddle together til everyone calms down. The situation is bad but people, from what we know, seem to be over-reacting."

Cliff, in his efforts to save his (and other's lives), reaches out to grapple [roll0] (of 70) the ankle of a passerby. If he manages to get them to drop maybe he can persuade them to reason and calm them down.

I'll be having a fast-talk roll again soon, I bet! This person (and sorry for making you have to create an npc here but I figured the move would be cool with you) might be not so happy about this... however you make them, shall I roll the fast-talk now?

[gardenphilosoph]

Cliff & Tim

Cliff reaches out to grab a passing ankle, and pulls down a passing woman. She hits the ground, hard, and Cliff quickly pulls her in before she is trampled by the crowds.

"What the **** are you doing?!" she shrieks, immediately crying out and trying to pry Cliff's fingers off her. She is in her early twenties, with fashion model looks (tall, thin, and a symmetrical plain face), and shoulder-length red hair.

[painintheear]

Cliff

Re-assuring the woman (heres another fast-talk for all its worth: [roll0] was that outta 40 or 45? I forget... if its close I'll report down at bottom with an edit... but anyhow, hopefully my words should do it) Cliff tells her, "There is a wide hysteria going on, everyone needs to calm down. If there is any danger we should stick together and figure out what it is, running around like mad won't help anyone. Please work with us, my name is Cliff and this is Tim."

[DJDeMiko]

Tim

Tim watches Cliff tackle the passerby. He turns to the crowd running past and calls out, "People, people, calm down, panicking will get us no where!"

[gardenphilosoph]

Cliff & Tim

"Get away from me, you ****ing maniac!" The woman shoves herself up, half-heartedly kicking at Cliff with her heel. She is soon lost to the crowd.

Tim's voice is lost among all the shouting in the crowd. His words have no effect.

OOC: Unfortunately that was a failed roll. And seeing as you just grabbed the woman's ankle, I don't think logic is going to help. You guys are alone.

[Kuma Da]

Caleb

Caleb faces the row of flashlights. The hairs on his neck start to stand on end, and he can feel more than hear the wave of panicked civilians sweeping in behind him. It's a ballsy move--not a bright one--but he tries his hand at oratory.

"Don't nobody start shootin' nobody. If ya got the guns, then y'all're here ta protect us. If'n ya don't, then yer safer behind this here wall of violence than you'd be between it and whatever it's put here ta shoot."

If the crowd doesn't look like stopping and the guards don't look like backing down, Caleb will drop prone and start kicking ankles to get people out of the line of fire.

OOC: This'd be a great place for me to drop a fate point. If they work anything like they do in Dread, than I want to bullseye this check. If they don't, and if you've got rules for them yet, then I'd like to burn as many as I need to bolster my shoddy fast talk roll. Speaking of which, here it is. [roll0] vs base (25, I think.)

Edit: sweet mother of mayhem! The dice are with me on this game.

[painintheear]

Cliff

Tim and I are going to have to do something.
Tim and I are going to have to do something.
Tim and I are going to have to do something.
Time and I are going to have to do something.

Time!

There was very little time, right? All this panicking had Cliff worried, most likely unreasonably. He took a deep breath, "Tim what do you think we should do?"

[Blockhead]

Freddy Biscuit

Freddy grabs his pistol from its holster and his flashlight from his mouth and aims/shines at the holes in the wall. He slowly makes his way over to the small tunnel that he got here through.

[DJDeMiko]

Time

"Unfortunitly," Cliff calls out loudly through the din, "We are just men of science facing a panicking mob, I fear their is little that we can do except to keep ourselves safe and do what we can to keep others safe. We will just have to wait and see."

[gardenphilosoph]

Private Biscuit

You stand at the mouth of the tunnel, still warily watching the holes in the wall.

The sound of scratching and clicking increase, sounding dangerously close. Suddenly, a pair of antennae appear out of one of the holes, waving around, searching, sensing. Each antenna is a foot long.


http://i239.photobucket.com/albums/ff197/Blumboman/GAIA/GAIA-Cockroach.jpg

You catch a glimpse of a brown exoskeleton. All the holes suddenly begin twitching with motion. From each hole a massive, cat-sized cockroach erupts forth, jaws clicking and legs scuttling. Besides their massive size, these are still irregular cockroaches. Their first pair of legs are held off the ground, are are elongated and serrated, like natural scythes. You count five of the insects.

A fetid stench suddenly fills the room, smelling of sewage and fermenting rot.

OOC: Alright, here's how the round is going to go. The cockroaches have a higher DEX than you do, so normally they would get to go first, but since they have melee weapons and you have a firearm that's already aimed at them, you get to pull off one shot before they attack.

So you roll a d100 for your Handgun skill, which is 60%. Since you're at point blank range though, your skill is doubled, to a theoretical 120%. Having over 100% in a skill, even temporarily, is impossible though, so it's 99%. Basically, you're guaranteed to hit. Almost. Also, roll your damage after your shot, which is, for the handgun, 1D6.

Then they will attack.

Then you will shoot again. And again. Your weapon gets three attacks in a round. You don't have to shoot though, you can retreat into the tunnel, but shooting while crouched down and crawling backwards is pretty hard, so you may want to rethink that.

In short - you attack (roll a d100 to hit & a d6 to damage), they attack, you attack, you attack. Or instead of the last two attacks, you can retreat.


Tim & Cliff

The two of you just duck out of the crowd, trying your best to remain calm and keep from being stampeded. It is hard to imagine how there is a constant rush of people. The stadium was tightly packed as it was when everyone was more or less still. Now though, it was like everyone was running toward, or away from, something.

The standoff at the door had escalated. Soldiers were barking orders to stay back, while the frenzied mobs were caught in confusion. The crowd was too frenzied for a mere black out. Either they thought the safety of the stadium had been compromised or somewhere in the stadium it had been compromised, and was just now spreading rapidly.

Somewhere to your right you hear somebody yell. "Don't nobody start shootin' nobody. If ya got the guns, then y'all're here ta protect us. If'n ya don't, then yer safer behind this here wall of violence than you'd be between it and whatever it's put here ta shoot." Despite the man's uneducated voice, there is solid reasoning behind his words. Perhaps you should start making your way over to the soldiers by the wall.


Caleb Maxon

You see a couple of people turn at your words, and a couple of the soldiers beside you shoot you a quick glance and nod. Your reasoning has broken through to them, and at a good time too.

The standoff at the door had escalated. Soldiers were barking orders to stay back, while the frenzied mobs were caught in confusion. The crowd was too frenzied for a mere black out. Either they thought the safety of the stadium had been compromised or somewhere in the stadium it had been compromised, and was just now spreading rapidly.

OOC: Also, epic success. The base chance was actually 05%, not 25%, and you still made it. Nice rolling.

[painintheear]

Cliff, at the words, decides to run parallel to the voice. No sense getting too close to people with guns yet, and no sense getting too far away from the potential protectors... right?

After awhile he hadn't heard anyone, or anymore reason, to be able to tell what was going on - he approached his right and got closer and closer to the soldiers... waiting to hear what was going on.

(So as to listen without going too close: Listen Check [roll0] if I fail it, I'll go close enough to see it. (Sorry, don't remember what base was.) )

[Blockhead]

Freddy Biscuit


Freddy nodded to John and a particularly nasty bounce caused him to turn to Linda. "Try to avoid the bumps in the road Linda!" Linda smiled and replied: "Thought you guys liked a bumpy ride!" Freddy remembered himself, Derrick and Paul laughing at this. John looked about ready to blow his top, but simply laughed as well and concentrated on what was left of the road ahead. The in-car radio chirped into life and a voice said: "Spotted a few survivors on a roof of a super-market, about 1 mile South of your location, go pick em up, over." John picked up the radio and replied: "Copy that, retrieving survivors, out." Linda swung the Hummer in a 90 degree angle at the next turning and headed South down the broken road. Freddy remembered stumbling against the side of the Hummer and laughing at Linda's recklessness. Unfortunetly, the vehicle went over another nasty bump and the in-car radio began to buzz. "I don't like it this rough Linda!" Shouted John, trying to clear up the frequency on the radio. Twisting dials and bashing the dashboard did nothing. The static from the radio grew louder and louder and Freddy grabbed his ears at the sound of it. Looking at his fellow marines, they seemed fine, but the buzzing and clicking grew louder and louder. Then Freddy heard an inhuman high-pitched scream.

The scream brought Freddy back to reality and he raised his gun to meet the threat and pulled the trigger on the nearest cockroach. [roll0] VS 99% Damage = [roll1]

[Kuma Da]

Caleb

Caleb turns to face the pair of soldiers nearby. The ones that seem like they might be willing to listen to him. "I don't think I can do this all on my own. Calmin' folks down, I mean. Somma've 'em 'll listen, sure. But I don't have authority like y'all do." He raises his hands over his head, and with them the lantern. "It's gettin' hard ta yell over everybody else, so I'm comin' over to ya. Kindly don't shoot me as I do."

Caleb starts walking towards the pair of soldiers, keeping his movements slow and deliberate. As soon as he gets there, he's going to try to get them away from the bulk of the crowd so they can talk.

[DJDeMiko]

Tim


Tim does his best to stick with Cliff in the dark. If there happen to be any downed soldiers he will grab some gear.

[gardenphilosoph]

Private Biscuit

The bullet shears off the cockroach's left rear legs, but it keeps scuttling at you, bleeding a chunky liquid reminiscent of pus, or vomit.

The cockroaches are surprisingly swift, and cover the room in mere seconds. Before you can react, they are all over you, jaws snapping and scythe-legs scratching. Their legs are surprisingly sharp, and easily puncture your uniform as they scale your legs and scuttle up your torso, heading for your unprotected neck.

Bite - 20% [roll0]
Bite - 20% [roll1]
Bite - 20% [roll2]
Bite - 20% [roll3]
Bite - 20% [roll4]


Tim & Cliff

"Let us out! They're in here, they're in here!" screams a civilian, his voice mingling with dozens of others, all in the same vein. The mobs are practically frothing at the mouth, so desperate are they to escape.

"Remain calm! The lights will be back on shortly!" replies one of the soldiers, shouting to have his voice heard. Most of the soldiers are quiet, however, sweating profusely and looking unsure of themselves. They obviously have orders not to let anyone out, but there are about a dozen soldiers against hundreds of civilians.

The two of you are near the entrance, on the side, listening in.

OOC: You failed the Listen roll, the base chance for that was 25%.


Caleb Maxon

Though you have the attention of two of the soldiers, they refuse to move for you, for fear of breaking the formation.

Tensions are obviously running dangerously high in the room. All of the soldiers are sweating profusely, awaiting orders on the new development of fear-crazed civilians. For some reason, none of their higher-ups are responding.

[gardenphilosoph]

Private Biscuit

The thick kevlar of your military uniform is thick enough to shield you from the tearing claws and jaws of the cat-sized insects, but the are dangerously close to your unprotected face and neck.

Bite Damage - [roll0] - [roll1]

One of the cockroaches manages to find a weak seam in your kevlar and tears at it with its serrated mouth parts, damaging the bulletproof material.

OOC: In this case, the cockroach actually has a negative damage bonus. The bite damage is 1d4 plus the damage bonus, which in this case is negative 1d6.

EDIT - So it did 3 damage. Your armor blocks that but I'm going to rule that it damaged your armor directly, taking away 1 point from your overall armor's worth.

[DJDeMiko]

Tim

ooc - Not really sure what to do right now, I mean we are near the gaurds with guns and a panicking crowd, I think its wait and see.

[Kuma Da]

Caleb

"Y'all got standing orders to keep us from hurting ourselves, right? I mean, I'm assumin' that's why you ain't lettin' any of us outside. Or lettin' us carry weapons, neither.

Right now, though, we've got a lot of folks who're scared and in the dark. Sooner or later, one of 'em's bound ta do somethin' stupid. When they do, you can either let 'em on through, past all y'all to take their chances maybe gettin' hurt outside...or you can kill them yourselves.

It sounds like your superiors are bein' awful quiet. Decision's up ta you, but I trust ya'll.

I'm gonna stand over there. Out of the line of fire. See if maybe I can't get a few other folk ta do the same."

OOC: Caleb's accent is kinda fun to write, although I imagine any southerner reading this must be suppressing a shudder every time he opens his mouth. In a way, though, it's kinda honest. I'm a northerner who can't do a good southern accent writing a northerner who can't do a good southern accent. :smallbiggrin:

[gardenphilosoph]

OOC: I've been meaning to comment on that accent. I can't tell a good Southern accent from a bad one, but in either case, it's damned fun to read, and sort of adds to that loner survivalist feel I think you were going for. I love it.

I know this is getting sort of off-topic, but I have to wait for the others to respond to update things, as everything is in unison. But Kuma Da, have you ever heard of the indie RPG called Dogs in the Vineyard? Just because of that last post, I want to run it and have you play it. Dogs in the Vineyard is a gem of a RPG, something totally unlike any other RPG I've seen to date. Basically, it's a narrative game focused on narrative storytelling and facing the players with these massive complex moral dilemmas, and you are so playing into something like that right now. Just out of curiosity...if I ran something like that, would you be interested?

[Kuma Da]

OOC: That sounds kinda cool. I'd like to know a little bit more about the setting and player roles and stuff like that, but I do enjoy writing my characters in a way that (hopefully) makes their story engaging. Plus, there are a lot of fantastic indie RPGs out there. I'd be willing to give Dogs in the Vineyard a shot.

[gardenphilosoph]

OOC: That's awesome. I've just got my hands on the original edition of the game, and am reading up on it now. I've never been more impressed by a RPG, to be perfectly honest. It actually strikes, just by the nature of the game, on some profound that surpasses a game. The mechanics are an essential part of the game, not just a system that decides whether something is successful or not. The morality of your character is called into question, and your own morals if your character is based off you at any point. It's definitely a hard game to explain without the rulebook, but I think I can find a way around that. The original setting is fine, not quite to my tastes though - it's a West that never was, based on pseudo-Mormonism in a pre-statehood Utah but it in it's own world. In any case, you've gotten me excited. I find that your characters have a lot more substance than the run-of-the-mill character, even in such crass and blunt games as Dread. Kudos to you as a player, Kuma Da. I knew you were good when I was genuinely disturbed by Haze's background in Dread. The choo-choo piece of intestine totally struck a chord somewhere where my soul should be.

So that post was totally unrelated to Gaia. But for you others, the offer of a Dogs game holds up to you too, if you're interested. Expect a thread up soon.

[Kuma Da]

OOC: I genuinely like Dread. And I happen to be a huge fan of both pulpy and crass. It gives me more freedom, I think. In a more artsy game, there's pressure to keep with its standards. In Dread, I can take a break from character development every so often and just punch demons in the face. Which is immensely fun.

Also, one of the tricks that I've found with horror writing is that, sometimes it's good to be needlessly specific. Just a little bit of extra detail at the climax of a scene can make all the difference in the world between your readers skimming right along or stopping to wince.

It's the difference between a pool full of entrails and a kiddie pool full of entrails. One of those is way more disturbing than the other. It made me wince as I wrote it.

Anyways, I digress.

Let's get back to some environmental horror, shall we?

[painintheear]

OOC: Unfortunately I'm with Tim on this one... I'd like to have my chance to be an awesomely descriptive player here, but maybe only a southern phrase could do it, "like a bump on a pickle."

Clyde waited like a bump on a pickle.

OOC: No, not quite. :smallbiggrin:

[Blockhead]

Always a fan of narrative games, do sign me up at some point, especially if it's a war based game, that'd be fun to.... Hell, it'd be so much fun to roleplay D-Day, it'd be like Saving Private Ryan, only in your own words!

Freddy Biscuit

The roach's teeth slice at the kevlar, causing Freddy to cry out in agony at the surprising weight of the roaches and their sharp teeth. Bringing his pistol to bear, he aims it right in the face of the biting cockroach. "Eat this **** for brains!" Freddy pulls the trigger once.
[roll0] VS 99% Damage = [roll1]

EDIT: After reading the fact that I aimed it right in the face of the cockroach and got a 6 for damage, unless it's dead anyways, could I spend a fatepoint or something to blow the cockroach's face away?

He then turns to another cockroach pulls the trigger again.
[roll2] VS 99% Damage = [roll3]

[gardenphilosoph]

Private Biscuit

The handgun shears the two closest roaches off your body and onto the ground, clicking and hissing in their death throes.

The remaining three cling fiercely on to your body, their antennae whipping your face, their greasy brown carapaces reflecting the light shown on them.

Bite - 20% [roll0]
Bite Damage - [roll1] - [roll2]
Claw - 40% [roll3]
Claw Damage - [roll4] - [roll5]
Rip - 80% [roll6]
Rip Damage - [roll7] - [roll8]

The cockroaches' savage attacks do little but tear cloth and pockets, your uniform cushioning you from their serrated claws and bladed legs.

OOC: Ooh, your rolls went well in hand with your description. No worries, that's more than enough damage to blow the cockroach into little shreddy insectoid bits.

Also, you have five more bullets in the clip before you have to reload. You only had 16 bullets for the handgun (two clips), and you've already used three bullets.

And in case your wondering, the cockroaches are just using different kinds of attacks. They can bite with their mandibles, scratch with their legs, or rip with their scythe-forelegs.

EDIT - So two attacks hit, but because of the negative damage bonus they don't do any damage. Lame.


OOC: No worries, folks in the stadium. There isn't much you can do in this situation but wait, like a bump of a friggin' pickle. Wait until Blockhead's character returns to the surface, anyways.

[Kuma Da]

OOC: Book it outta there, Blockhead. We're waitin' on you. :smallbiggrin:

[Blockhead]

OOC: Bloody thanks I get, fixing the lights, risking my ass *grumble grumble*

IC: His uniform falling to pieces, Freddy was glad he had body armour to protect him. Alright, maybe the guys at R&D hadn't designed them specifically to stop giant cockroachs clawing or biting you, but it worked nonetheless. Freddy continued his assault, pulling the trigger on yet another disgusting creature clawing at his leg.

[roll0] VS (99%) Damage = [roll1]

"This one's for Pemberton!" Cried Freddy as he aimed and pulled the trigger on a cockroach that appeared almost like the leader of the group.

Spot the reference? [roll2] VS (99%) Damage = [roll3]

[gardenphilosoph]

Private Biscuit

You blow the closest one of your chest off, splattering the ground by your feet with cockroach guts, which has the consistency of old vomit. Another bullet clips the wings off one on your leg.

There are only two remaining, and one of them is wounded. Sensing their imminent deaths, the cat-sized insects scuttle off, vanishing back into the holes before you can get another shot at them.

OOC: You only have three more bullets in this clip. You have two clips - one is loaded, and only has 3/8 bullets left. The other is in your pocket, and has 8/8 bullets left. If you reload, you'll switch out this clip for the full one.

Nice reference, by the way. Sadly that game doesn't look like it will make it off the ground. I figured that might happen, seeing how esoteric it was. Blegh.

[Blockhead]

Freddy Biscuit


John fiddled with the radio, the static only a quiet buzz and dying down now. With a final bang on the dashboard, the in-car radio came into line and kept quiet. The squad kept silent as they drove down the road, looking at all the wrecked retail stores that lined both sides of the broken road. The radio buzzed again, but John didn't pick it up. The voice on the other end seemed familiar, even through the buzzing and crackling.

Coming back to reality, Freddy shook his head. He really needed to see a shrink about these flashbacks. The radio on his shoulder buzzed and crackled and Freddy heard the distant voice of Stalin. The reception seems too bad to even attempt a reply. Freddy reloads his pistol, making a mental note to pick up some more ammo later on and checks the fuse box again; deliberately stepping onto the body of a cockroach, his foot sinking into the creature with a sickening crunch, covering his foot in a horrible goo.

If the fusebox is not fully repaired, Freddy will repair it now, if it is repaired, Freddy will travel back to Stalin and his boys and report on the situation. He'll also probably grab a new uniform, pistol clip and possibly body armour if available.
[roll0] VS (Repair) 60%
By the way, I know you said skills in green allow for a check, when are we allowed to take a check? Will you tell us when?

[gardenphilosoph]

Private Biscuit

As you ascend the ladder back up into the stadium, you are surprised to hear panicked screams and shouts, and the sound of a couple hundred very scared civilians. The lights are still out, the only source of light being the five or so flashlights being carried by Stalin and the others.

"About time.", mumbles Stalin, noticing the cockroach gore encrusting your boot and staining your uniform. "Did you get the fuses fixed? The lights aren't back on, and the civilians are panicked."

OOC: Well, checks are supposed to be taken at the end of a session, but seeing as this is a play-by-post game, we don't really have sessions. I figure I'll just tell you guys to take a check when you've reached some level of security or peace, or accomplished something momentous.

[Blockhead]

Freddy Biscuit

"I thought I fixed the fusebox sir, it may just take a while for the juice to get around the system, might be worth checking out the generators as well, with your permission. Also, it seems we've got a bug problem, sir." Said Freddy pointing the goo on his foot. "I got attacked by about half a dozen cockroach, managed to kill off a few before they retreated. I'd recommend posting guards around the areas of the breech, to avoid massive civilian-wide panic, if I do say so myself, sir. Although it seems they're already in a panic.... If you don't mind sir, I'd like to get a change of uniform, some new body armour and another clip for my pistol, maybe more clips now we've got hostiles." He said in a mixed tone of seriousness and absent-mindedness.

[gardenphilosoph]

Private Biscuit

"Very well, Private.", replied Stalin. "Tell me about these hostiles. The first marine told me they were dog-sized bugs, with two large razor claws and jaws that could tear a man's eye out." He says that all with a light tone of disbelief, but you detect the unsureness behind his words.

As the group of you ascend, the noises of the panicking crowd increase and all of your radios snap on, simultaneously. Apparently they had cut off from being underground, and the past messages all storm in at the same time.

"Sergeant, the crowds are getting panicked..."
"They are demanding to be released..."
"We are getting unconfirmed reports of hostiles in the stadium..."
"The crowd is bordering on hostile..."
"The civilians are rioting, we may have several civilian casualties..."
"LIEUTENANT MILLER, WHAT ARE YOUR ORDERS?!"

The stadium is in a grim situation. The lights are off, the stadium only illuminated by dozens of flashlights mounted on soldiers' weapons. The crowd of civilians, hundreds strong, has whipped itself into a panic and fear-driven frenzy. They all seem to be heading toward the stadium entrance, which is sealed off by a small group of guards. There is intense shouting going on. The civilians are demanding to be let out, screaming that there are monsters in the stadium. The guard are on strict orders to guard the entrance, but for the past couple minutes have been cut off from higher command, since Private Biscuit and the others were underground.

If something wasn't done soon, someone would do something stupid..."

[Blockhead]

Freddy Biscuit

Before we ascended into the stadium:

"Pretty much what we've got sir. Think cockroachs, only at half the size of a man with razor sharp claws and teeth." Freddy shines his flashlight on the spot where his body armour has been damaged. "As you can see, they're pretty dangerous, especially to unarmed and unprotect civilians."

Ascending into the stadium:

Freddy looks about, his flashlight in his hand at the crowd of people screaming and running about. Freddy then looks at Stalin (I'll probably be calling him this from now on) and awaits his orders, if he is capable of them.

[gardenphilosoph]

Private Biscuit

"****." Stalin is not impressed. "Hold your ****in' fire, soldier!" he shouts into the radio, directing his warning at the entrance guard team.

The sound coming over the radio sounds like chaos, and the crowd is high off a mix of fear, panic, and anger. The stranger shouts something over the radio, but what he says goes unheard amongst the background noise. He sounds panicked.


A shot rings out over the stadium, followed by a cry of pain from a civilian. One of the entrance guard has fired.

[Blockhead]

Freddy Biscuit

"Jesus!" Cried Freddy. "If that damn power doesn't come on soon, there's going to be a lot more shooting." Freddy couldn't do much for the citizen that had been shot, he had no medic training and knew that doctors and emergancy workers were inside and they would help. "We should make our way to the announcer's booth, sir. If the power comes back on we can calm the citizens down using the stadium megaphones and amplifiers." Said Freddy over the noise of the crowd.

[Kuma Da]

Caleb

"****. ****. ****." Caleb dives back into the crowd, keeping his head low but staying oriented on the site of the muzzle-flash. There was a person in front of it, and they might have survived the shot, but they won't survive the tide of the crowd once people realize that they outnumber the men with guns who're threatening them. Once Caleb reaches the body, he grabs the arm of a bystander and stares him (her? It's hard to tell in the dark and the jangling shadows that the lantern throws,) directly in the face. "You. Gimme a hand. This man's dying. We're getting him to safety. Grab the legs."

Once they're out of the immediate press of the crowd, Caleb sets the injured body down and lays his middle and index fingers over his mouth. If he can feel the man breathing--or if he's still responsive--he immediately begins hunting for the site the bullet entered through. If not, he does several quick rescue breaths.

After locating the wound, Caleb yanks his machete out of its sheath and uncaps his canteen. He squeezes a big dollop of water over the clothing around the wound and cuts it away as soon as it softens.

There are tweezers in the first aid kit. There's a bullet somewhere in the wound. "Sheeyit. No point in lettin' it get comfortable."

If the wound is to a limb, he removes his belt, re-sheathes his machete, and twists them in a tourniquet between the trunk of the body and the wound. If not, he works fast; following the trajectory of the bullet, closing the metal grips of the tweezers over it, and yanking it out before the flow of blood can swamp the wound. Then he bandages the site and starts applying pressure.

First Aid: [roll0] vs. 50

OOC: Man, it would be nice to know what kinds of neat stunts we can do with our Fate points... :smallbiggrin:

In case you ever have to treat a bullet wound: http://www.wikihow.com/Treat-a-Bullet-Wound

Caleb is not a perfect model to follow.

[DJDeMiko]

TIm

Tim grabs Cliff and throws them both to the ground.

ooc - HAHA Saved your life because i posted first!

[painintheear]

Dude, totally shoulda grappled! lol, I'm such a weirdo...

Cliff takes the fall and thanks Tim graciously. The more things happened the more Cliff realizes that Tim and he are going to be going through some similar things: Tim looks promising as a good buddy. Cliff gives him an understanding smile and secretly wonders if they'll make it out alive...

Gardenphilosoph:
Are my short posts bothersome, I'm really at a loss as to what to say now... just make a short move and be on with it, yeah.

[gardenphilosoph]

Private Biscuit
Your suggestions go unheard amidst the sudden chaos that immediately follows the gunshot. Driven by a potent emotional cocktail of panic, fear, and now anger, the crowd, driven by a mob mentality, all push forward, overwhelming the entrance guards who are unwilling to fire into a crowd of mixed age and gender civilians. Sunlight floods into the Waits Stadium, along with fresh air and clouds of humidity.

Caleb Maxon
You fall onto the wounded civilian, a tall athletic man with a knife laying by his hand. He must have tried to assault the entrance guard. The gunshot is in his thigh - if it's pierced a major artery, then it's fatal. Otherwise, the man should be okay. Still, it's impossible to repair the wound in the several seconds you have. The crowd suddenly shifts forward, every one rushing the entrance. With a bang, you realize that Waits Stadium has just been unsealed to the outside world. You shield the victim and hope that you don't get trampled in the rush.

Tim & Cliff
The two of you are prepared, shielding each other, when the crowd suddenly rushes forward and breaks the stadium doors open. A rush of humidity and the wild, untamed musk of nature leak into the stadium. The stadium has been unsealed.

OOC: Painintheear, not at all, there wasn't much to post about that time anyways. :smallwink: Now there is.

[Kuma Da]

Caleb

****. Fine. Can't save everyone.

Caleb makes a grab for the dead man's knife, wipes it off, and shoves it into his backpack. When the crowd surges forward he clambers to his feet, throws his forearms in front of his face, and begins trying to force his way through the mess of humanity to an area outside the firing arc of the soldiers.

OOC: Brawl seems an appropriate roll, although not to damage. Rolling against the base of 55. [roll0]

[Blockhead]

Freddy Biscuit

"Holy....! We need to get out there and form a defensive perimeter before we can close the doors, in case any of the citizens become targets for anything dangerous." Cried Freddy, rushing for the entrance, following the flow of the crowd to avoid being trampled or pushed.

Upon reaching the entrance, Freddy grabs his assault rifle and keeps an eye out for anything 'bad' that might try to make it's way into the stadium.

[gardenphilosoph]

OOC: Kuma Da, are you headed outside?

[Kuma Da]

OOC: negative. Moving parallel to the soldiers, trying to get to one side of the crowd.

[painintheear]

"Tim, hunker down!" was the cry from Clyde as the surging of bodies ripped over them like a high-tide rip current. Only the moon shone above them, the mad crowd, the soldiers, and the entities surrounding them outside. Seconds after a young boy scurried over his back Clyde chanced a peek out towards Tim yelling, "How many more can there be?" but in a tone that suggested irony, not inquisition. Dr. Clyde was terrified, but rationale said he should be fine... right?

What if they were all running away from something? No, its silly! But what if it wasn't? "Tim we have to get out of this!" Cliff yelled as if only to himself. No longer were these his students, or rational beings, they were but water molecules in a waterfall; they never looked back, most of them, and seemed to know no consequences but fear. And why not join them? Did the crowd know best, or was he smarter than the rest? Cliff Clyde was a man of self-doubt: Just because I'm a professor, does that mean I must be more intelligent. Are not these people smart too? In the terror, words broke down into the meaningless grunts and urges of the frustrated toddler trying to make communication with the world; where... help... who?

Cliff Clyde broke down, Mr. Clyde began to cry.

[DJDeMiko]

Tim

Tim just tries to stay hunkered down with Cliff.

"Is the audience running from fear or something dangerous," he wonders in a coldly calculating thought. "Either way being pressed in with that mob sees far more dangerous."

He notices Cliff begining to cry and slaps him on the face.

"Calm down man!," he shouts over the roar, "Your a man of thought, put your emotion behind you, if we want to survive this we need to keep our heads about us!"

[painintheear]

The sting of Tim's hand oddly shocks Cliff more than any of the trampling people running over him.

It, quite literally, *knocked* some sense into him. Tim was right, the two of them needed to outlast the storm of people blasting over their heads.

[gardenphilosoph]

OOC: Sorry, really busy weekend and upcoming week. Will update when I can.

[gardenphilosoph]

Private Biscuit
Freddy rushes to the door, keeping along the wall to avoid the dozens of people pouring into the sunlight outside. The air is damp and smells musky, the wild scent of nature pouring into the sterile air of Waits Stadium. Taking up a position amongst the former entrance guard, Freddy grips his assault rifle and keeps an eye out for danger.

The entrance is still blocked by bodies pouring outside. The stadium is quickly emptying.

A man in surplus army garb, but clearly not military, forces his way through the crowd to land against the wall beside you. You make eye contact, and notice that he has blood stains on his hands and chest.

Caleb Maxon
You forge your way to the crowd, eventually pushing through to a wall on the left side of the entrance, where a group of soldiers lean against the wall, in combat stance and clenching their assault rifles.

You make eye contact with the Private you saw before, and quickly become aware of the fact that your hands and your torso are marked with the gunshot victim's blood.

Tim Braderville & Cliff Clyde
The two of you hunker down and hope to survive the rushing torrents of people. It seems like minutes, but eventually the surging crowd is reduced to a couple meager stragglers, confused, scared, and alone. The military presence in the stadium is in chaos, and soldiers rush around clenching their assault rifles, clearly disorganized. The latter half of the stadium is almost clear of civilians now. The crowd has moved on to the entrance, crowding around the entrance and doing their best to get out, while the military stand by guns ready and fingers drawn to triggers.

You spot the Private you tried to talk to before, along with the twitchy man in the army surplus. They are standing by the left side of the entrance amongst a group of what used to be the entrance guard.

[DJDeMiko]

Tim

Carefully approaches the group.

[Kuma Da]

Caleb

"Aw, ****. It's pandemonium in there. I don't suppose you could tell me what in the sam hill is going on?"

Caleb glances at his hands, then wipes broad scarlet streaks down the sides of his fatigues.

[Blockhead]

Freddy Biscuit

"I wish I knew, the power was supposed to come on, but it didn't and now the crowd's gone crazy over something I don't know about. Are you ok?" Shouted Freddy, pointing to the blood stains.

"****! These people were secure in the Stadium, now who knows what will happen to them?! Where will they go? What will they do? Idiots!" Shouted Freddy to no-one.

[Kuma Da]

Caleb

"You reckon they'd all come back if we got the power back on? Nobody liked waitin' around here, thumbs up their *****, under heavy guard by people who wouldn't tell 'em spit. I suppose it's better 'n whatever the ****'s out there, though.

If you wanna go check on the generators, I could lend a hand. Jus' tell yer friends not to put a round between my eyes."

[Blockhead]

Freddy Biscuit

"What would be the point? Everyone's leaving! ****! Who knows what's out there!" Although the question was a rhetorical one, Freddy knew what was out there. Not only had fought off the cockroaches just minutes before, but he had seen the damage caused by other creatures and even seen some before being assigned to the stadium.

[Kuma Da]

Caleb

"That is, after a fashion, exactly my point. Better the devil you know than the one ya don't.

In here we've got greed, cowardice, pride, hatred. Human evils. Out there, we've got...well, I ain't sure what we've got. I've heard stories of everythin' from the smallpox virus to armadillos the size of minivans. Dogs eatin' men and men livin' like dogs.

It sounds to me like what we've got out there is hunger, and that's a damn sight scarier than a few men in uniform who think they own the world. Present company excepted, a'course.

So I say we should be gettin' the lights back on. Givin' us all a safe haven in case the world outside gets nasty."

[DJDeMiko]

Tim

"I do believe that it got nasty a few weeks ago."

[Kuma Da]

Caleb

"It got nasty here a few weeks ago. It's worse to the east."

[Blockhead]

Freddy Biscuit

"You can check on the generators if you want, if you run into trouble, tell 'em I sent you and they can radio me. But I'm staying here trying to cover the damn entrance." Replied Freddy.

[Kuma Da]

Caleb

"Wait just a minute. When it comes to patchin' up things that ain't people, I don't know my own *** from a hole in the ground. Not to mention nobody's told me where these generators are. If you're stayin' here, I'm stayin' too. I jus' think it'd be smarter to get the lights back on."

[painintheear]

Cliff Clyde came too... he must have passed out.

sorry, been gone

Upon first looking he saw Tim and some army sergeants, but no mass of people. The lights were out, but everything seemed okay. Maybe, he thought, everything blew over while I was sleeping.

In a groggy voice the professor asked the military man, "Can we go home yet?"

[gardenphilosoph]

OOC: Just to let you know, December is a very busy month for me. I got a seasonal job as a chocolates warehouse guy, so the Christmas season is very busy indeed. It's crazy awesome pay for lifting boxes and the like, so I'm working a fair number of hours, not to mention the seasonal fits of holiday debauchery and school. My games will probably slow down, so I'd like to warn all you guys first of all.

[DJDeMiko]

ooc - do they need extra help :P I'm in grad school and my savings were largely in stocks and such :)

[Kuma Da]

OOC: No problem. I'm used to slow games, and I'm impressed by the pace most of yours have been moving at so far.

[gardenphilosoph]

The crowd, bursting outside, had finally started to calm down a bit. The hordes of panicked people loosened and spread out in the spacious parking lot, marveling at the changed world around them.

A few weeks ago, when they had gone in, the world around them was very much the same that it had always been, with the added humidity, heat, and of course, army presence. The entire world had been a bit more green, a bit more feral, but not entirely different. Moss blossomed on concrete walls and weeds sprouted out of sidewalks, and the screeching calls of cats and birds were unusually frequent.

Now, things were chaotic. The parking lot was an untamed mess of concrete and foliage. Moss grew in thick clumps on almost every available surface, and primordial weeds sprouted out of cracks in the ground and walls, the silhouette of roots clearly visible by the upraised concrete. The once flat gray plain of the Waits Stadium parking lot was now more like a jungle clearing, light shrubbery formed by weeds and plant growth.

The greatest change was the skyscrapers around, towering over the urban jungle. The gigantic buildings dripped with moisture, and a dense mixture of vines and moss grew out of the windows and on the walls, giving the appearance of giant cubic gardens. Things weren't completely overgrown and occasionally patches of aged concrete could be seen in between the overgrowth, but the city of Wise was changed.

The sun shone down on the parking lot, making everyone sweat and pant. The air was so much more humid, so much rawer than the sterile air of the enclosed stadium. In the distance, the calls of birds sounded. The noises were exotic but not unpleasant.

Aside from that, it was silent.

[Blockhead]

Freddy Biscuit

"It's quiet. Too quiet." A moment later Freddy grinned to himself at the realisation at what he had said. Freddy began to move out from the stadium, keeping his gun level with his eyes, staring down the sights in case anything non-human came into view. He moved in a wide arc around the scattered citizens, keeping an eye on the folige.

[Kuma Da]

Caleb

"I don't exactly like this either," murmurs Caleb as he follows the marine, but he doesn't take the silence as anything out of the ordinary. Nature has a habit of going dead quiet when humans show up.

[painintheear]

The silence did seem to almost penetrate the stadium, which was now much less populated with people - only birds could seem to be heard. In his early days of college Dr. Clyde had taken classes in bird calls... he wondered what these species he was hearing were, but they were so faint. He cupped a hand over his right ear and peered (with his ear!) into the distance... listening [roll0]

[gardenphilosoph]

Sunlight beaming down from above and humidity coalescing on skin and hair, the experience was almost serene, if it were not for the transformed city in front of them.

Several minutes passed, and still, nothing happened. The soldiers and military were as stunned as the civilians. All had been expecting something gruesome or dangerous, but were now faced with an overgrown city, nothing else.

Quiet murmurs were exchanged, and most of the civilians separated into groups and vanished into the overgrowth, the sound of their footsteps fading into the distance, crushing vines and splashing puddles as they went.

The parking lot was soon empty, save for a handful of citizens that were either alone or had no where to go. The soldiers began whispering amongst each other, and guns relaxed.

[DJDeMiko]

Tim

"This is no good, no good what's so ever," Tim said. "All those people just going out there. It's way too dangerous. We need to stay somewhere safe, we need to study the situation."

[Kuma Da]

Caleb

"Amen to that. There's guns and food here, though. They'll come back. We just need to stay put."

[Blockhead]

Freddy Biscuit

Freddy radios his commanders, if they are not already outside. "Outside seems clear. I'd even go as far to say peaceful. The citizens have nearly all split up and have headed their own ways, we are not attempting to follow them. Some citizens still remain in the parking lot. What are our orders?" He said, easing up.

[painintheear]

Did I fail that hearing check? I meant to hear not only the birds but anything else going on too... just using the birds as a guise.

[gardenphilosoph]

Alright, I think I am back and ready to resume this game. I apologize for my complete absence, it's been a rather insane month involving a trip up to the interior of my province, severe dehydration, a dislocated right shoulder, and a run-in with the cops. Insanity abounds. Anyways, it's completely my fault, and I'm sorry. I know play-by-post games are fickle creatures, and long absences do them no good.

So, who is still here and up for it?

[Kuma Da]

I'm still here. I think Blockhead might've left, though. Not sure about the others.

[gardenphilosoph]

OOC: Right, so we have you present. I've PMed the rest. DJDeMiko has replied with a no, and I'm still awaiting the others. I will do this with a minimum of two players, or I can also do a one-on-one if it comes down to that. Also if its wanted we can always recruit others to fill the empty shoes of missing players.

[Kuma Da]

OOC: Provided nobody else comes back, I think I'd actually be kinda happy shelving this game for the time being. It's really promising, and I wouldn't mind returning to it later, but I'm not feeling it at the moment? I dunno. I'll play if people show up, but I'd rather finish a couple of my other games first. :smallconfused:

[gardenphilosoph]

OOC: I feel the same way. I'm attached to the concept of this game but it'd be nice to clear my plate, at least for a little bit. In that case, save strong player interest, I think I will lay this one on the shelves.

[painintheear]

I'm here fools! But yeah, I know what can happen with these games... I know I've had a game with somebody in here that crashed and burned... (sorry) But, yeah, looking for a game like this is why I come back sometimes still.