PTU: The Beginning

[Arcran]

Chapter 1: The Beginning

Seven years. Seven long, hard years. Seven years full of conflict, senseless bloodshed and heartache. Everybody has lost somebody and some have lost everybody but yet somehow mankind endures, even if it is only a small band.

The small band of scarcely two hundred guided by Aron continues to survive but only just. From the outside, the group should be doing perfectly fine. The current camp is defensible with a steep hill giving defenders a steep advantage. The rotting skulls of greyskins on pikes show the beasts the folly of what can happen when they mess with mankind. Barrels and buckets, pots and pans and other appliances are almost always out collecting the almost continuous rainfall of Washington in April. The food, while not plentiful, is enough.

However, these meager blessings are hardly enough. The fear can be seen in the eyes of every man, woman and child in the camp. Rumor has it that firearms are running low on ammunition. The last raiding party that was sent out to collect more guns and ammunition never returned. Bows and spears work fine against animals, but against greyskins? They weren't much better than fists. Even Aron's mighty METANG unit is beginning to look a little worse for wear and is badly in need of repair parts or else the ace in the hole of mankind will no longer be operational. Since Aron had driven out Stephen nearly fifty had been lost to disease, greyskins or worse. There's even a rumor that the food stores are drying up, creating even more panic among the base.

In this most hostile of environments six children have found themselves blessed with extraordinary talents. Some control the elements. Others are fleet of food and strong in spirit. One is just a bit crazier than most. Whoever they are, whatever they are, they could not possibly understand the role something greater has planned for them.

April 7th, 2019

Another day, another cloudy sky up above. The greyskins haven't been seen for over two weeks, making everybody more on edge than normal. In some ways the occasional scout, that random assault was a good thing; at least you knew the bastards were there. After all, why would they stop? Were they plotting? Had something worse killed them? Or is it something more diabolical than that?

The rainy weather has caused a small cold to spread throughout the camp. Nothing major but the sounds of coughing and phlegmy spittle are almost the choir to the daily camp life at this point, nearly as much so as the fools that seem to always be training with archaic weapons in the vain hope to become competent enough in them to combat greyskins. Aron's METANG unit occasionally floats through the camp, exposed circuitry occasionally exposed as it buzzes and whirls, heavy metallic arms dangling loosely below it.

The sun has just come up but with the thick cloud cover up above the light has hardly changed.

Spoiler: Everybody

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And so we begin! This is your chance for your introductory post. In a typical morning around the camp what is your character doing? Feel free to create NPCs (within reason!) to help illustrate what your character's life is like. Let us begin!

And, if this isn't your speed, don't worry, fun stuff is coming soon!

[Tybar]

Marcus looks up at the morning sun with a frown, but shrugs. It isn't too hard to fight in rain after all.

He passes by Carlos, an 8 year old and smiles to him, ruffling his hair before heading off to training, nodding to adults and kids his age as he passes them.

When he gets to the training grounds, he looks around for Jill, a training partner, not seeing her, he unsheathes his sword and gets in some practice swings.

Spoiler: NPCs

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Carlos:
Young hispanic boy with an unruly mop of hair, lives with several others, not sure if they're his original family or not, as they don't speak English as their primary language. Carlos is grasping it well enough lately though.

Jill:
She's 18, short, blonde, blue eyed, and tough. She apparently did sports too before the Light and Greyskins, she talks quite a bit, mostly to fill up the silence that Marcus leaves. Sometimes he replies, usually with quick comments though. She is an active defender of the town, and keeps her hair short to help with that.

[Hefty Lefty]

"Anyone lookin'?" The boy dressed in tight Under Armour facing a tree leans into it as he stretches his muscles in the early morning fog. 90% of injuries are caused by improper stretching. He reminds himself. He thinks a coach told him that once. Either way, it sounds right. You pop or pull something out there in the woods, you're as good as dead.

"Um, no," the young girl barely into double-digits inspects her surroundings on the edge of the North Bend camp area. "But don't you think you shouldn't be here? Like, if you're hiding from people as you do something, you probably shouldn't be doing it." She tries to have the same conversation with her older brother every morning despite it always going the same way.

"Case', I'll be fiiiine. You gotta chill." He switches legs.

Casey rolls her eyes. Where does he get off saying that? A statement like that has no basis whatsoever, plus they both know that nothing's a guarantee in this world, especially when you're talking about the Greyskin. "...but, what if something happens?"

"C'mon when has anything happened?" He shifts to stretch his arms against the tree; leaning against its soft damp bark, he pulls his body away from the trunk, stretching his pectorals, alternating sides.

"But it only takes one ti- "

"If anything's out there, I'll run away from it. Ain't nothin' gon' catch me."

"But you don't- "

"Hey." He tenses up for a moment and looks Casey directly in her eyes. "That's why I run out here. You know that. When the next invasion comes," Casey shivers; it's unclear as to the thought of another attack or just the morning chill. "I'll be just as fast through the trees as I am on the field. If they need me to do recon or somethin', I'll be ready." He waits for a reaction from his sister, but she continues to stare into the dirt. "Make sense?"

The girl kicks a small rock over a twisted root. The speech didn't validate the risk in her mind, but she's tired of fighting this losing battle for the millionth time. "Yeah." Casey glances back up at the village to still find no prying eyes. "If you're gonna go, go now. But please, be fast Wes."

Wes takes a few hop-steps backwards into the woods, picking up momentum, and laughs, "Come on, all I am is fast!" He turns and dashes into the forest and after only a few steps is lost between the thick sea of foliage. Casey shoves her hands into the pockets of her blue and green Seahawks hoodie and, as she always does, heads back to the group in search of her friends. They help dissolve the terrible sickness at the pit of her stomach she gets this time every morning.

- - - - - -

Marcus and Jill are suddenly startled by a loud rustle of leaves behind them and can't help but violently turn towards. Maybe in a different world they could have believed the sound was just a squirrel or other small woodland critter - but here in the unfortunately all-too-real world, anything can be the beginning of everything. This time, however, it's just their friend Wes emerging through the green foliage; his dark red athletic wear contrasts sharply with his surroundings.

"What's up guys!?" Wes wipes a generous sweat from his forehead. "I make it in time to see Marc' get his ass beat by a girl again?" He takes a seat on the ground in a V-formation and starts stretching his hamstrings. "Or did I already miss it?"

Spoiler

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Wes' voice and a bit of inspiration: Boobie Miles (wearing the black Nikes) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EniSVYFXuP8#t=05s
Casey's voice: Jazmine https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iQmL7t6QyZU#t=66s

[Tybar]

Marcus and Jill spin, his sword flashing in a guard to cover the left, her staff spinning to the right. Both look at him, Marcus grunts once and turns back to Jill, who trips him with her staff, giggling.

Marcus gets up, spitting out some dirt from his mouth, grinning a bit. "Just in time."

He stretches, looking up at the sun. "Time for a break?"

Jill nods, and flops down next to her staff. Marcus cleans his sword, setting it on the ground next to him.

Jill looks at Wes slyly. "How was the run?"

[The Grim Author]

Morning was usually a slow time for Sinclair, allowing him to get dressed and do a little reading on medicine and photography (his parents were supposedly photographers, knowing about it would be good for his cover). He didn't normally like being interrupted during his study time... especially when it was someone who had done something stupid. And yet... "Sinclair, I don't feel too good..."

He sighed as he walked over to the source of the noise, a 10-year-old brown-haired white boy with athletic tape on his arms, legs, hands, and feet. "What is it, Bobby?" Sinclair took a few mental notes; Bobby's eyes were wide but his pupils were abnormally small, he was shaking a little, and his teeth were stained blue-green. "...Bobby, what were you eating?"

"I found some berries in the woods, and they tasted really, really good, but now they're making my stomach feel really, really bad..." Sinclair took a look at Bobby's hands; they weren't stained too badly, so it probably meant he'd only eaten a couple handfuls. Not enough to make him over-full. That meant...

"Bobby, those were bad berries. Like, poison bad." Sinclair sighed. "I guess I know what I'm doing this morning."

Spoiler

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NPC:
Robert Barnes Jones III, aka "Bobby": Brown-haired, blue-eyed, white-skinned kid. Wears athletic tape, plain color t-shirts, and jean shorts, but doesn't wear shoes. Has a sort of higher-pitched voice, and tends to go around looking for trouble. 10 years old, one younger brother (Michael Jones, "Mikey", age 9) and one younger sister (Felicity Jones, age 6 (yes, 6, and only just turned 6 at that)). Parents died 2-1/2 years ago.

[carnackiArdent]

Clara is still asleep. Not that she's sleeping very well; she was up late doing a combination of research in the chemistry textbooks she's scavenged over the years and fretting. Okay, mostly fretting. Either way, she fell asleep at the overturned crate that serves her for a desk in the little lab tent rather than actually making it to what passes for bed.

It isn't until voices start passing by outside that she wakes up, pushing her glasses up to rub the sleep from her eyes. She's still a little groggy - but that doesn't mean she forgets to make sure her cap is on securely before she sticks her head outside to see what was going on. This early in the morning she might be able to pass it off, but she doesn't want to make a habit of forgetting and have someone start questioning why she looks like a dandelion these days.

She sighs at the gloomy weather. Just like yesterday, of course. Not that she isn't used to it; this isn't too far from where she lived before, considering. She flinches a little as the METANG floats by, sparking in the dampness; it hasn't ever shown any indication of noticing her strangeness yet, but it still makes her jumpy.

"You know, as much as you fuss over everybody else, you'd think you would take better care of yourself."

Clara looks around quickly to see Rhys lounging at the base of the hill, which the lab tent is set right up against. She sighs and rolls her eyes. "Do you have to do that?"

"Sneaking up on you's the only way I ever get to talk to you anymore." He pushes himself off the ground to come over to her. "Is there something going on?"

"No, Rhys, I just..." She just really doesn't want to have this conversation right now. In the process of avoiding looking him in the eye, she spots Sinclair and Bobby a little way off. "Oh, geez, I wonder what Bobby's done now. I should go make sure Sinclair has everything he needs. Look, we'll talk later, okay?"

Before he can answer, she hurries off in the direction of the two boys. She really doubts she's done much to fool Rhys, but she's procrastinating on figuring out what to tell him as long as she possibly can. Besides, it's true that she ought to make sure Sinclair isn't out of whatever he needs to treat Bobby. "What is it this time?" she asks as she gets closer to them.

Spoiler: NPC: Rhys Kenrick

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A lanky young man in his late teens. Has long, mousy brown hair. Dresses mostly in black with splashes of color. His family moved to America from Wales not long before the Golden Light; he's still got an accent. Primarily known around the camp for being rather loud and a bit lazy, preferring playing his guitar to any actual work. He and Clara used to have a thing, but she's been avoiding him lately for obvious reasons.

[The Grim Author]

"Bobby decided to eat some berries he found in the woods. From the looks of it, they were poisonous." Sinclair sighed. "I think I've got something in here that'll help... If you've got any ideas, now'd be the time. The berries were probably blue or purple, if that helps..."

"Hey, Clara..." Bobby waved weakly to her before he turned a slightly greenish shade.

"Can we borrow the lab tent? Only getting the antitoxin right without knowing what's in Bobby's system is going to be hard. Like, possibly-no-more-Bobby hard." Bobby turned very pale at this. "Don't worry, Bobby. I'm not going to let you go without a fight. A big long hard one. Although in the future, don't eat anything that's just growing out there until you've had someone like Toby look it over."

[carnackiArdent]

"Oh, wonderful. Just perfect." For once, at least, she doesn't immediately launch into a lecture, but only because Sinclair is already doing so. "Blue berries... hm."

Botany is not, in fact, Clara's strong point. She's not very good at identifying what is edible and what isn't herself, though she generally tends to err on the safe side. "I think I have a book that might help. It's just one of the little field guides, but it's got some of the common plants around here."

Unfortunately, it is of course in the lab tent. Back where Rhys is. But she's not going to let a ten-year-old be poisoned just because of her relationship problems. "Right, the lab tent. Of course you can use it. And I'll see if I can find that book."

[Hefty Lefty]

"Yeah yeah, break time as soon as Wes shows up. I get it." The boy leans up and starts digging in the ground in front of him, where an astute eye can notice the soil is softer. A few handfuls down, he pulls up a lime green Nalgene bottle he stashes there for after each morning's run. "'Sgood Jill. Took a lap aroun' the Greyskins, bashed a couple heads in." Wes takes a long drink. "If it weren't for me, we'd be havin' daily attacks ya know." He eyes Marcus, then Jill intensely. "So you're welcome." He keeps the stare up for a few seconds before breaking his charade and laughing as he drops to the ground. "Seriously though, the f*cks up with those Greydicks. It's boring here without them."

[Tybar]

Marcus frowns at that, but shakes his head. I'm worried. They shouldn't be this quiet.

He sighs and stands back up, stretching, and pulls his sword back out of its sheathe, staring at it for a moment. Sparring time?

He walks a bit away and sets himself in a defensive position again, sword held firm.

[Arcran]

"Oh, wonderful. Just perfect." For once, at least, she doesn't immediately launch into a lecture, but only because Sinclair is already doing so. "Blue berries... hm."

Botany is not, in fact, Clara's strong point. She's not very good at identifying what is edible and what isn't herself, though she generally tends to err on the safe side. "I think I have a book that might help. It's just one of the little field guides, but it's got some of the common plants around here."

Unfortunately, it is of course in the lab tent. Back where Rhys is. But she's not going to let a ten-year-old be poisoned just because of her relationship problems. "Right, the lab tent. Of course you can use it. And I'll see if I can find that book."

Rhys is sprawled out in front of the tent, his guitar across his legs. He doesn't seem to be doing much of note from afar but, as you near, he frantically pushes himself up and begins strumming with his fingers on the guitar.

"If we were a movie," he says, his British accent slurred somewhat. Apparently sappy Hannah Montanna songs are what pass for romance in a post-apocalyptic world. Half of the chords are wrong anyways, from the little you remember of the famous Hannah Montanna of your childhood.

"I'd be the right guy that you'd fall in love with. In the end we'd be laughing, watching the sunset!" he almost shouts, forcing himself into a sort of rolling cough for a bit. He spits out a prodigious lugey before looking at you with big, sad eyes.

"Comon Claire," he says, using his pet name for you, "Tell me what's wrong. You haven't said more then five words at a time to me in almost a month. What the bloody hell is up with you?" he says somewhat angrily.

Marcus frowns at that, but shakes his head. I'm worried. They shouldn't be this quiet.

He sighs and stands back up, stretching, and pulls his sword back out of its sheathe, staring at it for a moment. Sparring time?

He walks a bit away and sets himself in a defensive position again, sword held firm.

Jill uses her staff to push herself up, grinning widely. She simply circles you for a bit, occasionally poking a quick, easily avoidable jab with her staff to keep you on edge. After a minute of simple sparring she dashes forward, her staff headed straight for your knees! Unless you either pull off an amazing feat of gymnastics of block it Jill will likely put you on your ass for the second time today.

Spoiler: Trip Attempt!

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AC: (1d20-7)[8]
Trip: (3d6+2)[14]

This is a Trip attempt, so oppose this with Combat or Acrobatics.

This is a sparring match, so please no *actual* attacks. Keep it to Combat Maneuvers unless you want to actually hurt her.

[carnackiArdent]

This is exactly what Clara was afraid of. She wants to have this discussion in front of other people even less than she wants to have it at all. But she has somebody she needs to help, so just turning around and walking away really isn't an option right now.

"When I said 'later', I didn't mean 'five minutes later.' Can we talk when I'm not trying to help with a sick kid, at least?" she asks, gesturing in Bobby's and Sinclair's direction.

She doesn't pay much attention to his voice. It's possible she doesn't even notice it; she's trying not to even think in Rhys's general direction right now and she isn't always that observant at the best of times. She moves to walk past him into the tent and hopefully cut the conversation short.

[TwilightKiwi]

Daybreak found Tobias slinking into camp via less-used avenues, a wet and heavy burden on his back, his clothes damp from the early morning's rain. As usual, he'd spent most of the night out in the forest - he felt more at home in the wild Pacific Northwest twilight than he did in what passed for sunshine among the tents and ramshackle buildings that housed Aron's congregation, and more and more Toby found himself awake and active at the wrong time of day and tired in the afternoon. The darkness held no mystery or terror to the boy, and nothing ever found him that he didn't want to. He'd almost stayed out in the woods for the rest of the day, found a nice hidden spot to take a nap - better to be scarce than let the adults think you were just being lazy - but for once he'd actually been doing something arguably productive with his time for the last week or so.

Spotting Sinclair following Clara into her makeshift laboratory, one of the camp's younger kids in tow, Toby cheerfully picked up his pace, barely paying any attention to Rhys. "Clara looks a mite busy, mate -" He mimicked the older boy's voice with surprising accuracy as he walked past. "Make yourself useful an' do somethin' with these, eh?" Rhys suddenly found a large, squishy, and pungent trashbag dumped into his lap - several pounds of freshly caught fish, some still wriggling and gasping. "Sure they'll think th' world of a right responsible dude like you performin' his duty as an upstandin' citizen." Ignoring any protests Rhys might have made, he continued into the tent, greeting Sinclair with a hearty slap on the back. "Morrrrrrrrrrnin' Sinny!" he declared brightly, drawling out his words as he shook some of the water out of his ratty scarf. "Grabbed some breakfast. See you guys're gettin' an early start. What's all the fuss?" Spotting the several unusual shades of color Bobby was sporting, he leaned in closely with no regard for personal space, sniffing the berry juice on the young boy's hands and giving a quick lick before spitting matter-of factly. "Hmmmmm."

Spoiler: Action!

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Survival to try and identify the berries: (3d6+3)[17]

[Tybar]

Spoiler: Combat Check!

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(3d6+3)[12]

Spoiler: Success!

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Marcus blocks at the attack, grinning a bit as he does.

He then slides his sword along her staff, attempting to knock it from her hands.

(1d20-7)[-5]

Spoiler: Failure!

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Marcus can't shift his sword in to block in time, and falls, this time on his back, staring up.

[The Grim Author]

"Hey, Toby. Bobby here decided to eat some berries and now he's..." Sinclair paused as he racked his brain. "I think the word is 'tweaking'. And nauseated. And..." Sinclair scraped a little juice off his fingers before walking over to the equipment. "And he needs to understand that just because it looks good to eat doesn't mean it is good to eat. Do you know what these berries are? Only I'd like to know if you know, before I try to test a couple things to see what kind of poison it is."

[MrE]

Juliet strode up to the practice field, sword held loosely in one hand as she thought about the morning's disaster. She had woken to find herself floating two feet above her bed. This was getting out of hand! Luckily no one had been around to see her, or hear her scream of surprise and horror when she woke up.

She had decided to head to the practice field to work out her anxiety with a bit of training and maybe some sparring, but as she reached the field she heard people talking. Marcus, Jill and Wes. Really? I could deal with the first two, but not Wes right now. Turning away she is about to leave when a rogue gust of wind sends two buckets near the field toppling over and making a ridiculously loud amount of noise. Damn!

Looking sheepish Juliet steps back towards the field and stands the fallen buckets up, before heading up to the others who had by now seen her. "Morning," she said, nodding to the three. She then set herself up in a fighting stance and swept her shortsword round in an arc, imagining that she had severed Greyskin's arm. She then moved through her paces, light on her feet blade always moving. She had had no formal instruction, but she had made up for that with a lot of practice. Her moves weren't fancy, but they had a certain grace to them, and her every step and strike was perfectly controlled. She had learned not to swing wildly or lose her head in a fight, and she applied that now, driving all thoughts of her strange powers from her head as she put herself through her paces.

[Arcran]

Juliet

As you go through your steps a few of the younger children in the camp marvel at your speed and grace. Still, while your finesse and focused movements are impressive the kids are almost constantly looking over your shoulder. After about thirty seconds of this you can't help but overextend on just one last swing to get a better look only to find the METANG just hovering there, almost silent.

Aron requests the presence of Juliet, it says in its flat, monotonic voice before hovering away to do whatever massive flying robot drones do. It doesn't elaborate, doesn't explain itself, simply tells you that you should go see Aron. You can see it go towards Wes, pause, then hover towards Marcus, pause once again, then hover off towards the outskirts of the camp.

Sinclair

Billy looks at you with pitiful eyes as the tent flap, well, flaps open, and an elderly woman strides in hastily, a ladle clutched in her bony hands. You quickly recognize her a Marge, one of the only other people in the camp with medical experience. She raps Tobias on the back of the head as he licks the boys hand, trying to determine the berries from taste alone before leering at Bobby.

"Eatin berries, eh?" she asks, her eyes shooting bullets at Bobby. "And what did I say about that?"

"To not-"

"TO NOT EAT THE DAMN BERRIES IN THE WOODS!" Marge shrieks, rapping Bobby across the knuckles with her ladle. It wasn't anything new; nearly all the small children fled at the sight of Marge but yet they still came to her when they scraped a knee of fell out of a tree. You're loathe to admit it but, frankly, she's probably forgotten more about medicine then you could ever hope to know.

"Sinclair, sweety," she says, all smiles, "The great big hunk o' metal has been floating around asking for you. Wants you to go see Aron. I can handle Bobby, why don't you go ahead and dash on over there," she says, dismissing you with a flick of her hand.

"And remember to use that ointment for your skin!"

"Oh, I think he wanted you too Tobias," she says offhandedly. "Go see Aron."

Marcus

Spoiler: Por Favor

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In the future, please either roll in the OoC or edit your post instead of just leaving it in spoilers.

Your sword is just barely to slow and you get a sharp rap to the knee due to it, your legs crumpling beneath you like so much tissue paper. Jill laughs as she offers you an arm, only to step back quickly as a shadow passes over her.

The METANG floats right above where Jill once stood, small camera eyes leering at you from on high.

Aron requests the presence of Marcus, it says in a flat robotic voice before floating off to continue its search for, well, whatever the hell a robot searches for in its spare time.

Tobias

You almost gag as you lick the berries. They were so incredibly bitter that you could hardly fathom how Bobby ate enough to make himself sick. Unless you're mistaken, they seem to just be blueberries that were far from ripe. While it isn't likely to kill Bobby, the amount it seems he ate will probably give him a nasty tummyache for at least the next day, although the blueberries will likely exit his body in a very rapid fashion.

Unfortunately, as you're pondering this you get the sharp rap of a ladle to the back of the head. You head is ringing more than a little from the impact as you turn to see Marge. You can see her speaking but can't quite make out the words until:

"Oh, I think he wanted you too Tobias," she says offhandedly. "Go see Aron."

Wes

Jill rolls her eyes, as always. She didn't waste quite as much time as some of the other girls accommodating your tales. It's a shame; she's really not that bad to look at. You're about to make some witty remark when Jill and Marcus begin sparring. As they do so you hear the slightest buzzing behind you, only to turn to see the giant METANG lurking over you.

Aron requests the presence of Wes, it says in a flat robotic voice before floating off towards Marcus who appears to have fallen upon his ass.

Clara

"Fine," he says, clearly moping.

"That big dumb robot was looking for you earlier," he says as he leaves, guitar held loosely by his side. "Said you were supposed to go see Aron or somethin'."

[carnackiArdent]

Moping or not, Clara's at least glad he doesn't press the point. Though it sounds like she's getting a little less necessary, since it was hard not to notice Tobias going past and now she can hear Marge yelling in there as well. At least it sounds like Bobby's in good hands.

What Rhys says next makes her turn pale; there's really no way to hide it. Though even as much as she's been avoiding him, he's probably noticed that the METANG scares the living daylights out of her recently."It did?"

She really, really hopes this isn't about what she's afraid it's about. She has a hard time thinking of what else Aron would want to talk to her for, though. Maybe the METANG is smarter than she thought. Either way, though, there's really no avoiding it - if she doesn't go, Aron's just going to send the robot after her again, or come after her himself, and neither one fills her with confidence. Either she meets him and hopes that it's something perfectly innocent, or she runs for it on her own and ensures she's in trouble even if it isn't round two of Aron's Xenophobia Olympics.

At least this way it won't come as a surprise, and maybe she'll have a chance to talk to him. She's not incredibly optimistic about her chances of convincing him to change course, but at least it's a chance. She sighs and rubs her forehead. Nothing for it.

After a moment she calls after Rhys. "Hey, uh. Listen, we'll have that talk tonight, okay? I promise." If I'm still here, she adds to herself, turning to head toward where Aron is doubtless waiting for her.

[The Grim Author]

Sinclair bit his lip at Marge's insistence. "Yes ma'am." As he walked toward where Aron was probably waiting, he murmured, "There is no way that ointment would ever treat argyria, it's not a thing that can be..." And then he realized that Clara was nearby. That shut him up immediately. He turned to her. "So... Aron wants to talk to you too?" He tried to ignore the fact that she might have heard what he said about argyria. That would only bring questions. Questions he didn't want to answer.

[Arcran]

Moping or not, Clara's at least glad he doesn't press the point. Though it sounds like she's getting a little less necessary, since it was hard not to notice Tobias going past and now she can hear Marge yelling in there as well. At least it sounds like Bobby's in good hands.

What Rhys says next makes her turn pale; there's really no way to hide it. Though even as much as she's been avoiding him, he's probably noticed that the METANG scares the living daylights out of her recently."It did?"

She really, really hopes this isn't about what she's afraid it's about. She has a hard time thinking of what else Aron would want to talk to her for, though. Maybe the METANG is smarter than she thought. Either way, though, there's really no avoiding it - if she doesn't go, Aron's just going to send the robot after her again, or come after her himself, and neither one fills her with confidence. Either she meets him and hopes that it's something perfectly innocent, or she runs for it on her own and ensures she's in trouble even if it isn't round two of Aron's Xenophobia Olympics.

At least this way it won't come as a surprise, and maybe she'll have a chance to talk to him. She's not incredibly optimistic about her chances of convincing him to change course, but at least it's a chance. She sighs and rubs her forehead. Nothing for it.

After a moment she calls after Rhys. "Hey, uh. Listen, we'll have that talk tonight, okay? I promise." If I'm still here, she adds to herself, turning to head toward where Aron is doubtless waiting for her.

"Fine. Whatever," he mumbles as he walks away, waving with his back turned.

[Tybar]

Marcus looks up, then grunts, standing slowly, looking first at Jill, then at Wes. Good hits Jill. See you later.

He waits for Wes, a bit quiet, but not unusual at all for him.

Spoiler

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Noted, I'll do the OOC thing next time. Thanks!

[MrE]

Juliet went cold when she saw the METANG hovering above her, its cold and impassive exterior still exuding menace. This can't be good, she thought. But she hadn't gotten this far by worrying about the future. She couldn't ignore a summons from Aron without leaving the group or exposing herself, and since both would likely lead to her sudden death, there wasn't much to lose by walking into the lion's den, so to speak. Sheathing her sword she saw the others also being visited, and frowned slightly. It wouldn't be about her powers if those two were being summoned, that was certain.

Juliet hurriedly skipped ahead so that she didn't have to walk with Wes and Marcus and headed towards Aron's home/workplace.

[Hefty Lefty]

Wes can't help but laugh again, and applaud the failure of his friend Marcus as he falls on his ass. "Oooo sh*t man she just gave it to ya, man!" As he casually takes another sip of water he look around, and is frozen mid-swallow when he sees the roaming RoboCop METANG question Jules, then make his way to him. Oh sh*t. Wes doesn't exhibit his worry or stand up to meet it. "Watchu want, pig?" If the robot doesn't react to the words he says, he rises despite his feign of defiance. Wes wraps his arm around Marcus after the METANG is done with him as well and starts walking back to the main camp. "You just got saved by the bell, my friend." He looks back over his shoulder to the girl left alone. "'Ey you keep practicin' Jill. My boy's comin' back for round two!"

[TwilightKiwi]

At first trying to catch up with Sinclair and Clara once he was able to escape Marge's scolding, when Tobias spotted Juliet coming from the field many of the older kids used for training, he quickly scampered over to her and matched her hurried pace. "Hoi, Jules! Got summoned by th' boss all official-like. Buncha folks did by th' looks of it." He realized they were heading in the same direction after a moment. "You too? Figgered maybe I was in trouble at first. Can't fathom what for... haven't done nothin' nearly bad enough poorly enough t' get attention... uh, lately at least, don't gimme that look!" he finished with a raspberry.

The robot had never intimidated Toby much - its AI was simple enough that it was easy to confuse with enough effort, and since it couldn't attack him directly without orders, nor was it the tattling type, he was usually safe from retaliation. He usually left it alone, though, since robots were pretty cool in his book.

[Arcran]

As the six of you head towards Aron's tent you that Celestia appears to have been summoned as well. She isn't taking the news as well as you lot; while most of you are nervous she is in a nervous breakdown, shaking violently and almost crying. Any attempt to comfort her doesn't particularly help and, if it's Wes, just makes her cry harder.

Soon enough you arrive at Aron's tent. Like almost every tent here, that was a generous use of the term; it was really just a motley collection of tarps haphazardly stitched together and nailed between a few trees. Still, they kept the rain out even if they were a bit ugly and they were considerably easier to pack than a typical tent.

Aron himself is wrapping his shoulder; he'd taken a Machoke spear through it in the last raid and, judging from the smell, it might have gotten a little infected. It hasn't seemed to slow down Aron much though, and judging by the empty bottle of alcohol he's either self-medicating or actually treating to wound. As you come in in groups of twos and threes he waves you towards some stumps that somewhat resemble stumps until the seven of you are all present, Celestia furiously trying to remove the tears and snot from her face.

For a bit Aron just sits there, looking at you with disdain but whether it's for your age, Celestia's blubbering or something else you couldn't possibly know. Finally, after almost a minute of awkward silence the METANG returns, going into a corner and curling its arms under it to go into sleep mode.

Aron stands up, surprisingly quick for his size and grabs a spear, dragging the point across the ground in some sort of pattern.

"I'm sure you all know that things are getting bad around here," Aron says slowly, looking you all over. "Low on weapons. Low on food. And whatever is happening out there is going to be bad," he says, continuing to drag the point of the spear. "This long with no attack could only mean that they're planning something that we are going to be woefully unprepared for."

"Fortunately, I think I may have found our savior," Aron says, flinging a battered and worn book at Juliet. "The METANG were just one of many robotic constructs used in the war. There were the next-to-useless Klinkers, Volt-bombs, and, of course, the Magnetic Assault Units. The latter were programed to mass together near high outputs of electricity. They had very simple AI, barely enough to reason, but could be easily collected and called with a simple generator. We've tried to get some to go into this area but there seems to be something interfering."

At this point Aron steps back, gesturing at the map. "There's a hydroelectric dam up near the Snoqualmie falls," he says, gesturing towards the map, "Just about four miles outside of North Bend. Add in the ten miles to get there and we have about a three day round trip, four if you stay at the dam. Your job is to go to the dam, scout it out and see if there are magnets floating around. Get them to return here by whatever means necessary and hope that we're still around when you get back."

"I wish I could send a few fighters to escort you but, frankly, we need them here if we're attacked," he says, dismissing that question before it's even asked. "I've packed two days of food for each of you; you'll have to find enough out there to compensate. It's all we can spare at the moment. Any questions?"

Spoiler: Intuition DC 14

Show

Throughout the entire speech Aron avoids eye contact with each and every one of you; is it guilt from sending children to do dangerous work or something else?

[Tybar]

Marcus looks at Aron for a minute, frowning. He knows why they could use those things but..."Why us?"

[Arcran]

"Because, frankly, you're all we got at this point," he says with a frown. "Most of you should be able to fight well enough to keep away the weaker monsters but you aren't strong enough to make a big enough difference against the greyskins, to put it frankly."

Spoiler: Intuition DC 12

Show

He trails off a bit at the end, implying that there is some other reason that you all were chosen but what that is you can only guess.

[TwilightKiwi]

The tension and uncertainty in the room was lost on Tobias, far too fidgety to be paying proper attention. Most of what Aron was saying at first went in one ear and out the other... until the subject of robots came up.

"Jules!" he hissed fiercely as Marcus put voice to the concern many of the others were no doubt feeling, leaning over to whisper to the novice swordfighter. "Ju-li-et, he's sendin' us out to snag a buncha robots of our very own!" The boy was quivering with excitement; and in fact, it was a good thing all eyes were focused on Aron at the moment, because behind Toby his shadow was writhing a bit without quite matching up to his own movements.

[MrE]

Though Juliet didn't appreciate her skills being dismissed, she did see the sense in it: she wasn't as useful in a conventional battle as many of the adults. Not yet at least or without her powers, but she didn't think they would really help her persuade Aron to let her stay.

Anyway, if truth be told, this sounded much more fun! She found she was just as keen to go on this mission as Toby, and though she could control her emotions better, she still shot him a grin and muttered: "I know. Think of the trouble you'll get into with them..." She then gave him a more serious look and shifted her eyes to his shadow, signalling for him to get it under control.

To Aron and the rest of the group, she did her best to sound confident and adult when she said: "Understood, sir. We won't fail the group. We'll bring back these Magnets." If what he said was true, the survival of the group depended on it, and she wasn't about to let them down.

[carnackiArdent]

Frankly, Clara doesn't notice any subtext to Aron's orders, or his reasons why. She's too busy being relieved she hasn't been found out. She nods sharply in response to his orders, trying to cover it up. "Yes, sir."

She's not wild about a wilderness mission on their own - though having Wes, Juliet, and Marcus around will definitely help - but she really just wants to get out of there as fast as she possibly can. She does make a mental note to talk to Marge and make sure Aron's actually disinfecting that wound and not just drinking to get past the pain, though. She has no idea what will happen to the remnants of their little group if Aron has a breakdown or gets too sick to lead. She may disagree with him, but holding things together comes first.

At any rate, he's right that they could use more defenders, even with the greyskins being quiet - and she has to admit that she's thinking a bit about the possibilities inherent in the Magnetic Assault Units not being under Aron's sole command, though the day she'd even consider putting that into action is a long way off.