|
Post by knightc3 on Feb 2, 2008 11:49:02 GMT -5
(Hey there, dont kill me lol)
As he made his way towards his only hope of survival, a mirage or a tower of some kind on the horizon, he couldn't remember how long he had been walking. He looked down to see he still held the knife tightly in his hand.
Riker was now almost dragging himself on the sand, not made easy by the burning heat and his wounds. Very soon though he heard a lot of gunshots and explosions with men shouting faintly from the direction of the tower. He was filled with the hope that he might actually survive to see the stars again.
After what seemed like hours, he got close enough to see the carnage that had taken place outside a tall tower. He could see a few scared men running away in another direction, who he assumed were the attackers. He was too tired to think the people who did this might actually take a shot at him before he got close enough to say anything. Adrenalin does crazy things to people, as he found out for himself back in the camp.
As he limped and dragged his body closer to the few people standing outside, he tried to shout out a warning or greeting of some sort, but nothing came out... only a dry pain erupted in his throat. He coughed painfully, almost collapsing from the effort. On his knees now, he looked up...
|
|
|
Post by Rosy on Feb 2, 2008 22:16:47 GMT -5
((The post is basically fine, but you might want to go back and change it so you're not controlling other people's characters. Its not a huge deal, but it sometimes upsets people. And even small things like "he saw he drawn the attention of a man and a woman, the man having trained his gun at his head." are considered controlling other characters. ))
|
|
|
Post by Rosy on Feb 2, 2008 22:26:35 GMT -5
"Holy crap!"
Gail popped out of the buggy, dragging the passenger seat with her. She held in her mouth a small, wooden box. Tossing the seat aside, she held the box with her free hand and slipped the lid off.
"These guys were carrying crack."
She dove into the buggy again and pulled out eight more boxes.
|
|
|
Post by knightc3 on Feb 2, 2008 22:38:05 GMT -5
((Very sorry about that. I wasnt sure about it when I posted either, EDITED))
|
|
|
Post by Da Pwny on Feb 2, 2008 22:51:08 GMT -5
"That would explain why they were so vicious" Sasha remarked, noting a new sap that had wandered in from the desert. He looked pretty bad, but he wasn't her problem at the moment. Finally able to get up, she used the wall for some support as she slowly moved over to a nearby buggy, her nose sniffing out something inside. And so it was; after searching under the seat, she triumphantly pulled out several wrapped packages.
"Energy bars, anyone?" she shouted, munching on one herself. Note her favorite flavor, but better than nothing. Finding a liter of unopened water under there also, she pulled it out and, after making sure it wasn't tainted with something via a possible syringe stuck in the side or cap, tore the cap off and drank half of it in a single setting, even though it was fairly warm. Forcing it all down, she replaced the cap and laid down after shoving the last occupant out, who was already getting stiff thanks to the desert sun.
Finally, she had enough energy, and couldn't take the idea anymore; unlike the bandits, she had a conscience, and although she could quiet it while fighting, it was screaming at her like a barking b****. Sitting up, she walked over to the dying sap, grabbed him by the collar, and dragged him back to the shade of the vehicle she was sitting in earlier. Laying him on her lap, she fanned him with her left hand as she grabbed the water bottle. Uncapping the water, she took a quick swig, then poured a little onto the sun-burned man's face, hoping to get him back to reality before he got too dehydrated. She saw the markings of the gang on him, but her instincts told her another story entirely...
(>.> <.< ...)
|
|
|
Post by Rosy on Feb 2, 2008 23:00:34 GMT -5
"Hey! Are you retarded? He's probably one of them!"
Gail stuffed the boxes into her pocket and grabbed the buggy seat. She dragged it across the sand and threw in it onto the ground next to the dying kid and the new chick.
"Did you hear me? Who do you f**king think you are?" She was tempted to kick something, but held back. Deep down inside, she didn't have the guts to hurt anyone or anything. She threw a glance at Crow and Cipher, hoping one of them would do something.
Finally, she flopped herself into the buggy chair and examined the boxes.
"Seriously though... Who the hell are you?"
|
|
|
Post by Crow on Feb 2, 2008 23:05:29 GMT -5
Crow was already having a field day. He was running around with a box gathering parts and tossing them in. Eventually he started towing some of the busted vehicles in and started trading parts, and managing to fix up about two of the other buggys by the end of the day. Obviously keeping the best parts in his own buggy. It's not that he didn't care about the two extra people that had wandered into the area of the tower, it's just that he had better things to do than mess with someone that tryed to kill him earlier.
|
|
|
Post by knightc3 on Feb 2, 2008 23:28:46 GMT -5
He faintly remembered being dragged into the coolness of the shade. It felt so comfortable, he was about to pass out of from a mixture of exhaustion and dehydration. Then he felt something that felt like acid hit his face. He realised a bit later it was just water hitting his dried up skin. His back arched nevertheless because of the sharp pang it brought before the blissful coolness that came an instant later.
He could hear some talk going on around him, but he couldnt really make out much of what was said. He still clenched the bloody knife tightly in his hand.
Finally, he tried to focus on the closest distinguishable face to him and whispered really quietly, "Tha...*cough*...nk You..."
|
|
|
Post by Da Pwny on Feb 3, 2008 0:29:11 GMT -5
"Shut up." Sasha's voice was cold as ice, reaching down to the hand clenching the knife, wrenching the weapon free and throwing it aside a short distance. "First of all, I do not belong here, and neither do you. I would just like to make that clear to you before you get any reservations about me being a part of these..."
She looked over to the girl nearby, who seemed about ready to kill Sasha earlier, and decided against her first choice of 'wretched, lying, scheming scum of the earth' and instead opted for "...people." She forced the man's mouth open, slowly pouring some water into it, expecting him to gag at first. That was usually the case with those who were dehydrated. "What is your name, young man?" she asked softly, tearing the gang ID patches from his arms and chest as she asked, tossing them under the vehicle.
It wasn't that she trusted the man; she was ready to pull out her own knife at any moment. It was just that she had a feeling that this man was a refuge, not a hostile. And she trusted her instincts more than she trusted her brain, or those of others for that fact...
|
|
|
Post by knightc3 on Feb 3, 2008 0:40:44 GMT -5
He was still very dazed from the taste of the water he had just gulped down. Coughing up some more, he felt a bit more confident in his voice now.
He just nodded at the girl for the first part of information she gave him, looking around trying to take in his surroundings at the same time
On being asked his name, he suddenly realised he had been called so many things back at the camp, he had forgotten his name. He took some time, all the while trying hard to think, looking confused at the same time.
"Riker" he whispered, "thats.... my name..."
He had felt the knife snatched from his hand earlier. He did not have the energy to resist. He didn't know what made him carry it so far in the first place.
|
|
|
Post by Mirshaan on Feb 3, 2008 3:54:22 GMT -5
Clink was busy refilling the methane gass containers on the invention he had called the 'Portable Fire Thrower'. He had considered making a bigger version to put on top of a vehicle or something but he couldn't see where he would be able to find that much methane.
All thoughts however were dropped when he spotted something even more fantastic. Lying in the middle of a sand dune, where clearly it had fallen was something that could only have caught they eye of the nutty inventor. He ran to it full pelt, discarding the Fire Thrower as if it wasn't even there. When he reached it he pulled at it, tugged it, pushed it and eventually freed an old, bent and extremely battered piece of metal from the sand. The object looked nothing more than an old rusty piece of scrap, but the genius was jumping up and down and grinning as though he'd struck oil, shouting "I've got it, I've got it." repeatedly at the top of his voice.
|
|
|
Post by ev1lpoptart on Feb 3, 2008 4:26:01 GMT -5
Cipher decided against talking to anyone at all at the moment. Instead, he opted to pick and choose the guns and ammo he wanted from corpses strewn about the immediate area. He eventually came across the girl whose name he hadn't bothered to learn.
"this place ain't exactly a f**kin' resort, ya know." He motioned to her legs. "now, ya've got two good ones there, whaddya say you put em' to use?"
In truth, he had no care how she reacted, but the monotony of disposing of bodies and picking up salvage was starting to get to him.
he wandered over to Crow eventually. "hey, this place ain't exactly the Mariot, ya know? The more people who are here, the more likely we are to be found, and then the real killin' starts, and we have to find a new base. And I like this base, Brenda. I really, really do."
He lit another cigarette, not bothering to offer one to the young man, and waited.
|
|
|
Post by Rosy on Feb 3, 2008 8:29:38 GMT -5
Gail rolled her eye's at the older girl.
"Sweet Jesus. You don't have the right to tell me where I f**king belong," she said aggressively. "I bet you think I'm one of those bastard's b****, right? Stupid bag of sh**. And for the record, you're stuck here until you get me a new truck. My truck wasn't just a load of crap, it was customized with all my loots. It took freaking forever to get it perfect. That little roll of dough you sh** out won't even start to cover it."
She spat in the sand next to the girl's foot.
"So welcome to the gang. Since you're going to be with the gang for a while, you might want to offer your name before we give you one."
With a groan, she stood and walked to where Riker's knife was thrown. She picked it up and pointed it at him.
"I don't know what's going to happen to you, you poor bastard. But if you were running from a gang, you picked a poor place to get help." Dissatisfied with the quality of the knife, she dropped it. She pulled out another box of crack and tapped it on her fingers.
"And by the way... My name's Gail." She threw the b**** a smug glare. "But you can call me 'Your Highness'. If you want to survive, you'd better start treating me like I am."
|
|
|
Post by Da Pwny on Feb 3, 2008 9:04:48 GMT -5
'Riker...' Sasha repeated to herself. For some reason, she thought that she'd heard that name before, but more than likely it wasn't this man; she'd been around a lot of people, and she had killed a lot of people too. Their names eventually blurred together over time, becoming just another face to her that she had to remove from this world prematurely...
"In case you haven't noticed, dumbf**k," she retorted, "your little paradise on earth has already been found. Do you think those gang members are just going to forget where we are? Besides, this place isn't exactly 'covert' by any means."
At the last lines from the girl, she stared for a second, then broke out laughing. "Alright, Gail... 'your Highness'" she began, her voice oozing with sarcasm and a poorly stifled laugh, "my name is Sasha, but you can call me 'Mamba' if you wish for my professional name. And just for the record, the only thing I have seen you do much of is b**** at me. So unless you have some hidden talent that makes you worth more than a child, you will be treated as such by me. A spoiled child at that. As for that truck... it was not worth much monetarily; a thousand, perhaps two at most, on an open market. One of the newer models would be better suited for the purposes you have, but I am sure you have your reasons for hanging onto such an old beater."
Pulling out her knife, she began to pick under her fingernails when her ears picked up something ever so slight off in the distance behind her. Sighing, she picked a bit more out, then began twirling the knife on her fingers, switching smoothly between each one. Suddenly, she flipped the zalchi up into the air behind her; it landed on the shoulder of a supposedly dead guy in a vehicle, who abruptly cried out in pain as the knife bit into his flesh, reaching the bone with ease. Cocking an eyebrow at the large man, Sasha remarked "You seem to have missed one. But this could be more useful than harmful..."
Carefully setting the man in her lap down, she walked over to the vehicle, yanking the knife out before the faker could grab it. Clamping her arm down on the wound, she also took the automatic from him, whistling to the two still by the buggy with the dehydrated man as she tossed it over there. Pulling the man quite forcefully from his vehicle, dragging him out into the open sand between the two buggies as she looked around. Facing the trio she'd just been talking between, she shouted "You people wouldn't happen to have any good lengths of rope, would you?"
|
|
|
Post by Mirshaan on Feb 3, 2008 9:31:05 GMT -5
Dragging the piece of metal took all of the old mans effort, but Clink was determined that he had found exactly what he needed, and wasn't going to miss an oportunity. He'd stopped jumping up and down though which one would imagine could slow him down a bit. He aproached the two bickering girls and the injured man, dragging the slab of rust behind. One girl appeared to storm off as he passed between the group as though the group as though he hadn't even noticed them, but at the last moment he looked up.
"People... Language please!" He exclaimed. "There are ladies present."
Then without another thought he returned to tugging at his salvaged metal.
|
|