Fixed that for you.CloggedDonkey said:Andronicus said:Agreed. Always ready for a nice chat and a slice of something nice. Ah, it's as if I can smell the lovely hot meat pies through the speakers.Commander Jack Rankin said:Andale. Such friendly folks out there.
I love all the little random spots that you find scattered around that tell little stories about the people before and after the bombing, like burnt skeletons lying on a bed, or that house in DC with the robot you can give jobs to, like tell the (quite deceased) children a lovely bedtime poem. It's the little things like that where I can let my imagination make up the stories of the people before they died that really make it a joy.There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And frogs in the pool singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white;
Robins will wear their feathery fire,
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself when she woke at dawn
Would scarcely know that we were gone.
any way, I liked most of the city. I would clear out buildings and just sit there, staring at the destroyed metropolis for hours. It's kind of depressing, but it gives you the scope of what humans will go to, justto survivebecause the entire population of the human race is comprised of idiots.