Wasteland [RP] [Game]

48 posts

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1. The Walking One
2. John Rikks
3. Emile James
4. Variance Hedges
5. Tenouchi ‘Isaac’ Hayai
6. Jared Erasmus
7. Phillip Derroger
8. ‘John’

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1.
The Walking One
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Approaching in a south-ward direction to the northwest section of the map- Mount Hydro, which appears to be a huge pile of scrap miles high, a dome-shaped rain collector built around its edge.

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2. John Rikks
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Arriving by spontaneous appearance from the living world, he finds himself in a triangular centerpiece of Syringe, Fort Malachite and Pit City.

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3. Emile James
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Appearing directly beside Lake Barter on the southwest peninsula- near the edge of where the scrap ends, a huge murky oil replaces “normal” ground for miles.

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4. Variance Hedges
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After a long journey, Variance arrives at what distant travelers call “Adar Wasteland” and spots Fort Malachite in the distance, along with its large airfield. A biplane takes off, almost by magic.

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5. Tenouchi ‘Isaac’ Hayai
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An artist in nature, ‘Isaac’ remains at Pit City to investigate the seemingly endless hole in the ground the town was built around, while surviving off trade goods for a while.

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6. Jared Erasmus
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Arriving finally at Syringe, he spots the two-story “hospital” and number of tents around, and assumes he could probably sell any medical supplies he’s scavenged from the endless tunnels beneath.

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7. Phillip Derroger
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Phillip arrives near a small settlement built on the oil lake, one built for harvesting bucketloads of the liquid. After a not-so-short journey along the lake edge, there better be some supplies here.

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8. ‘John’
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He finds himself at Mount Hydro’s base for the third day in a row, asking around for some kind of remnant of himself. The huge disk around the edge shades him from the light sun, and he can investigate what he’s uncovered so far.

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0. ~~$(%^(
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)(#)($Pit City)!$_)!%$)^(#!~*!#&*($&*(U$(*!&$&!(*&U$*(U!$*(&!(*$&!U!$&(Y(&$Y!$(@!*^

[Okay, feel free to get started! If you want my introduction paragraphs to be modified for your backstory, please tell, but I won’t allow changing of location spontaneously.]

 
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I pick number 0.

 
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[My guy is of an artist, but it is good otherwise. =3]

Isaac

This is really no way to live… Living by scraps…

Getting up from his workplace on a makeshift table lighted by an ordinary candle, he starts putting his nib pen, plugged inkwell and spare papers in the backpack by his workstation.

Some people like my drawings that I do in my spare time while investigating this hole, but it is no way to make it in this world…

Getting up, he puts the backpack on his shoulders, and starts walking to his dilapidated shack.

I want to go make a name for myself… Maybe I could try and make a map of this realm… Would that get me fame? … Maybe not… But what can I do?

He continues to let his thoughts roam.

 
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John
Alright lets review what I know about myself. I guess my name is John, I’ve learned I have RED hair and GREEN eyes, I’ve been told I am 5’ 6" tall, I found a green hat made from a material called WOOL, and the word that’s been stuck in my head AMNESIA is some sort of condition where a person can’t remember their past.

I sit down near what appears to be an old bicycle.

So in other words i’ve gotten almost nowhere… sigh.

I stand up and begin walking around the mountain again.

 
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Phillip

After walking around the shore, he keeps looking for supplies, finding from almost nothing to just dust.
He decides to go back to the town, pack up his stuff, check what he found (a spoon, a rusty coin and a chain slab) then depart, deciding to go to Syringe, and try to find anything useful in the way.

…Sigh… Hope there is something I can take…

 
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(may as well gravitate to the most interesting poster)

Allen

A word came to mind about how he had sunk down here – escape – He had been done a serious injustice being thrown down here in the first place, condemned just for being a ‘monster’ on the internet of all things. But at least he was no stranger to survival, albeit inexperienced.

Just then, he almost stumbled into Phillip, but kept his composure. “Hello, would you know where I can find some food and drink? I am new here.”

 
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Emile

“She kissed me first!”

But Anderson wouldn’t have it, and he landed a second punch on Emile’s jaw. That was a terrible mistake on his behalf. Emile pushed the unsuspecting man off of him with his hips, and in a quick series of movements, it was him who was executing the punches while sitting on Anderson’s chest.

“I told you it was her that came on to me! Your little sister isn’t so little anymore, maybe it’s time you realized that.”

From a safe distance, Olivia watched as both her brother and EJ fought over her. This wasn’t fair, her first real kiss was ruined by her brother’s overprotective nature. Maybe it was time she had a talk with him, if he made it out alive that is.

Emile realized Anderson had had enough, and he got off of him. They were both covered in oil from having rolled around on the ground, but that didn’t matter. Emile wouldn’t be staying with these people anymore, not after the confrontation that just took place. It was time to find a new “home”, and some clean water as well. He didn’t look back as he walked off into the distance.

 
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The Walking One
I just walk into this land of area. I am tired of walking forever. Nothing really is over the horizon, right? Well, I pick up my trusty rifle and head into a deep shaft, starting a new home once again. Maybe they won’t find me here. I set up a little bed using scraps and then mark my area with a distinct red and black emblem (mainly semi-circles). I head up again and spot a town. Maybe there would be something to trade with them. I pick up something like an old drill and stare at it for a while, thinking on how to fix it. I’ve had experience on fixing things, but this drill is requiring a charger, which might be difficult to find. I start searching around for a charger for the drill.

 
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Jared
As i climb over one of the countless ridges of scrap that make up the landscape of Wasteland, a large rusty metal building comes into view. A large, crudely painted red cross is painted on a plywood sign bolted above the entrance, and from what the people going in and coming out tells me, this was the Syringe Medical Center.
I carefully pick my way down the ridge, taking care not to step on the numerous shards of broken glass, scrap metal, and overall dangerous garbage that threaten anyone who ventures out through the Wasteland without the proper shoes. I take a quick glance down at my metal plated shoes, a thin strip of iron bolted on to the bottom of my footwear, and smile a little.
“At least I won’t be getting any foot damage today.”
I walk through the open entrance of the hospital, taking care not to bump into the people standing or sitting on makeshift chairs, and walk up to the attendant behind the counter. There was barely any electricity in the city, and all of it went to powering the hospital’s record computers and the city hall’s computers as well, so the room was dimly lit by kerosene lamps, torches, and chemical lamps. (Chemical lamps work by mixing together substances to release light, sort of light a firefly, but on a larger scale.)
When the nurse finally notices me, she peeks her head around from the cracked screen of the monitor.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“Yes, and I believe I can help you as well. I have an appointment with Dr. Fritz to discuss delivery of medicines?”
The nurse released the characteristic sigh that you get used to after being a scrap merchant.
“Room 208, second floor.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
I turn to the left and walk up the stairs to the second floor, and start counting off the rooms. “Room 201, 202, 203…” i counted off, until I found the right door. “Room 207, Room 208. There you are.” I place a quick knock on the door, and turn the rusty knob. I walk into the room, which is somewhat long with a chipped wood table in the middle. A few doctors and many more merchants sit around the sides of the table, trying to pitch sales to the doctors. “One box of Rustflower for a canteen of water.” “Three bottles of old Ibuprofen for a box of scrap metal.” “Two intact frozen organs for four boxes of syringes.”
I slide a chair out of the table, making sure to make as much noise as possible. As the old wooden chair scrapes across the makeshift flooring, all eyes turn to me when i sit down at the end of the table, and sit back in the chair. The room suddenly becomes much quieter.
“I have a deal to make with you, doctors.”
A few seconds pass before Dr. Fritz speaks up.
“Make it, then.”
I sit forward in my seat, and I pour the contents of my backpack onto the table, making sure to separate them. Painkillers, anesthetics, slightly used bandages, unopened alcohol pads, and much more. Most of the people around the room gasp in astonishment, and a few sit back in their chairs, obviously wishing for my astonishingly good fortune.
Dr. Fritz looked at me, then the supplies, then back at me again. “W-where did you get that, Jared?”
I pull my hand up and scratch my wrist, an old gesture of scrap merchants for “good luck”. “I have my sources.”
I lean forward and look around the rest of the table, staring at the other merchants.
“And apparently, so do you.”
Dr. Fritz rubbed his hands together, then stared at me. “How much do you want it for?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
I pulled out a small clipboard out of my backpack, with a piece of notebook paper inscribed on it. All of the supplies were listed there, along with little check-mark boxes next to each of them. I pullet a pen out of the side spot, twirling it in my hand as I read off the list of medical supplies.
8 bottles slightly used painkillers, 24 fluid ounces anesthetic, 3 rolls unused bandages, so on…
I hand the clip board over to Dr. Fritz. “I’ll take 2 pounds of gold for it all.”
After a few minutes of reading off the list, he hands the list back to me, along with his signature. “Done, head to the basement to get your payment.”
I get up from the table with my clipboard, and proceed out the door. This was a pretty good haul, i think silently.

 
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Phillip

Who is he?

“Over there might be something” He points at the town he just left. “If not, there”. He then points at a pile of scrap. “Good luck”. He then resumes his walking towards Syringe.

If someone else tries to stop me, I shall ignore him or her, who ever that person is.

 
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Allen

“Thanks, and sorry for almost stumbling over you.” He said, in deep thought. There seemed to be no animals, but he wasn’t certain of that. Places like these wouldn’t have too many creatures, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Deciding to hunt the scraps, he was almost bitten by a rat. But in finding the rat, he attacked it using his survival dagger, with good results. It was, apparently, taking care of a family of rats there. He killed the other rats, totaling 2 adults and 5 children. Eating a smaller rat, he then addressed Phillip.

“Say, what’s your name? Tell you mine if you do.”

 
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[There is absolutely no life in the Wasteland- at least, none that doesn’t condemn sunlight. The things that do lurk far down… most are just legends; those who stay alive to see them don’t last much longer.]

 
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Phillip

Ugh

“Phillip Derroger. Now, if you mind, I’m in a hurry” He says, then resumes his march

Some people just don’t understand when someone needs to get to somewhere

 
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(ok, no more rats then…)

Allen

“Allen, and farewell.” He said, thinking about heading to the community for employment, then did so.

 
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The Walking One
I quickly find a charger for my drill (not quickly actually). I hold it in my hand and power it on multiple times. I smile on the inside and walk down to my pathway complex in which resides my home. I quickly make it down the lighted steps and pass a large dent in the wall with my ‘bed’. I then find it easy to navigate the tunnels to something that visibaly has business. I walk up to a shack in the town of (is that “Nit Xitw”?) after a while and walk up to the only lighted part of the house. “Here for doing busi WOW YOU’RE TALL.” “Hey, what can I get for a fully functional power drill?” “How’d you get that?” “It seemed like some of it’s parts where scattered around.” “Well Mr. Tall guy, I can get you a pillow for that, if you want.” “Really? Back where I come from, I’d get about 8 cans of food for this (lie).” “Hmm….. Well, how about I double that and throw in a can of that precious food?” I accept the deal quickly and carry my goods out of the building and down my travel hole. I head back to my ‘home’ and put the generic pillows on my bed and find a way to crack open the food in the can. I dig in.

 
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John Rikks

I look at my surroundings, the scraps and waste that litter the Wasteland, shaping the otherwise formless landscape. Like a desert of scrap, it forms hills and ridges. I walk in a westerly direction, clutching tight to the bits of chain and gold coins that I’ve found, knowing that I can trade for food with these.

After some time, I reach the wretched hive known as Pit City. Aptly named after the giant hole in the ground that it was built around, it is now a beacon of life in an otherwise desolate landscape. After a little it of bartering, my scraps have gained me a few days worth of food, but I need some place to stay. I need someplace to stay, but I’ll need even more scraps. Something that works, perhaps, something of value. A man rushes past, carrying several goods on him. He drops a few nails, which I pick up. Kindness has almost entirely evaporated from a world like this, a world where humanity has to live on what they can find on the floor. Generosity flees from worlds like this. I look around for a place to stay for a night or two, so I can eke out my meaningless existence on mere scraps for another few days.

 
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Variance

Biplanes still work? Strange; with the dust in the air the lift must truly be immense.

Still, before I head for Fort Malachite and my uncle’s business there, it’s probably wise to get some kind of weapon first. My ever-trusty beating stick fell apart on that damn highwayman’s head on my way here…I need another one.

I wonder why my uncle sent for me. Business must truly be booming if he wants me to take over running a caravan…I would’ve thought Eldest Brother would have done the job far better than me. Oh, well, I suppose I can take care of myself better. Maybe he just needs a bodyguard for a new driver. I suppose that might be enough. And I pay my debts.

Weapon…or maybe I’ll just keep going.

(takes three steps and trips, sprawling face-first into the sand)

Oof.

What … what is that?

(yanks what he tripped over out of the sand; a dull hatchet buried in some kind of chest. A very dull hatchet.)

Ooh! Canned food! (keeps it in his pockets) Thank you to whoever reconciled here!

Onward to Fort Malachite….and my uncle, the trader….

 
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Emile

He’d been walking for who knows how long without water or food. The few people that he came across were reluctant to help him, that, or they outright refused. Maybe it was his appearance, his unfriendly nature, or more likely, a combination of both. Whatever the case, Emile was exhausted, and the chances of him finding shelter soon were diminishing. His physical state, coupled with those worrisome thoughts, caused him to collapse on the ground that was now a dirt road instead of an oil field.

 
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(which town am I at?)

Allen

As he reached the town, he decided to put his skills to the test. His primary objective, indeed, was to escape – but that could potentially wait. Looking around, he decided that he would best be developing some kind of farm in some way. At least, that way, the people here would potentially have some food, and he would gain some support in his quest to locate an exit back to the ‘surface’ as he would call it. But the first step would be to discover where he really was presently.

 
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(The one directly south of Syringe, that’s where you started at according to what I can get from your writing.)

 
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TWO (Acronym)
I rest in my hole for a bit and then start cleaning up. I throw the junk outside and keep what is of value. I set up a little lamp in my room and throw a few clothes onto my pile I call a bed. I then find a book and set it to the side. Maybe I can prosper here. I find an old item that seems to be fireworks. Prime condition, somehow. I decide to relax and find a match. I then head up and have a sip of water. I then set up the fireworks and light the thing. It flies up with a great amount of noise and reaches a great height before exploding into a beautiful set of colors. No one knows who specifically did this, right? I enjoy the bright colors and the vibrant sound while it lasts.

 
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John
I guess I better find a place to rest. I think as I walk around the mountain. In hear a noise in the sky. I look up and see bright colors in the sky. What’s that? I walk in the direction of the lights.

 
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Checking the sign-ups thread often is a good idea. Checking it is the best way to not lose new players.

 
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Originally posted by Stone667:

Checking the sign-ups thread often is a good idea. Checking it is the best way to not lose new players.

I must’ve checked the first page on accident, and not seen that you posted (I don’t look at threads until they update). I will add you.

 
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No, wait, I have added you, I just didn’t post it. You’re on the list, feel free to start.