The Twisted Earth (Post-apocalyptic Role play) (Started - Closed)

[Dectomax]

Sinclair looked across and nodded. " We shall provide a number of supplies. We have packed two trucks in the garage, ready for you. They have been loaded with Food, water and other survival gear. The trucks have more than enough Ethanol to get you to the location and back." He looked at the ground and sighed. " And after the last outing, I think we can spare you some more medical gear, ofcourse." Sinclair stood and looked across at the others. " If that is all you want to ask, may I suggest proceeding to the garage? there is a lot of work to be done."

 

[Emurlahn]

Gear was grumbling; his fingers was taping on his brass-plated gauntlet. "Okay, Sinclair. I know Balthazaar is quite busy. But I still think that instead of busting into my shop and do a half-assed kidnapping, you could have just asked me to come. Then one of your guys wouldn't have a big hole where his chest used to be." He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms. It was obvious from his act that he didn't care much for neither his fellow prisoners or this mission.
"I think you managed to damage some of my stuff, and some stuff I was making for some high-assed merchant; I don't believe he will be happy with the delay."
"Though I would guess that you are bringing me in more because of the parts I sold to Balthazaar when I arrived, rather than any trouble I'v caused, right?" He looked around, from the looks he was one of the eldest in the room, if not the eldest. He looked hard at Sinclair again before looking away. "Rebuilding a bloody airship." The last was a bare mumble.

 

[Irony's Acolyte]

Kreth had watched the video and listened to Balthazar with an ear, but for the most part he had been looking around the room. Aside from the usual thugs, the man had collected an interest group of wasteland miscreants, each of whom's power remained to be seen. One seemed to be nothing more than a brute though, his weight apparently breaking a chair. Kreth figured he was as tough as a rock and probably just as bright. Still, subtlety wasn't needed to kill. A fist to the face could do just as well. Kreth would have to watch himself around that one.

He shifted in his chair again, tested the rope that tied his hands behind his back. Still as tight as ever. Not that Kreth was particularly interested in breaking out now, with all the guns pointed at him and the other individuals Balthazar had collected.

Looking over at Sinclair, Kreth spoke. He never made eye contact though due to his heritage, instead focusing on the man's mouth. He squints the whole time, his sensitive eyes bothered by the amount of light in the room since they took away his black strip of cloth.

"We going to be taken bound or set free?"

 

[Dectomax]

Sinclair looked at the man. "You are a valuable object to our family. You posses, certain skills which are hard to find." He stood taller, motioning to the guards. "You have knowledge that will be beneficial to us and our plans." Looking up, Sinclair addressed the other man. "You are to be unbound, though anythought of running would be unwise, Balthazaar is a powerful man. He has many contacts." Sinclair motioned for the rest of the group to stand and, in formation between the heavily armed guards, led them out of the room.

The corridor outside was cold steel, with concrete roofing and flooring. Heading to the stairs, He led the group down several levels until they reached the Garage. It is a large open space, containers of ethanol stacked high as the ceiling, spare parts laying across the floor and various vehicles parked, either being serviced or waiting to be used.

Jumping out of a side door of an old hummer a small man appeared. Covered in oil that was nearly as dark as his skin. " Hey Sinclaire! These guys ready yet? The trucks just about done, added a new paint job to her too!"

As you round the corner, two flatbed trucks are visible, stacked high with supplies on the rear. The front of the two trucks has flaming decals painted along the front bonnet.

 

[Mr.Ivebeenframed]

Ashe followed Sinclair but was wise enough to keep her distance from him or the guards. Keeping her real identity had been a real gamble to her these past few days. She reached for her neck and scratched an itch where her skin rubbed against the explosive collar that they had placed on her. She had deserved it after making a fool out of Balthazaar's men evading them time after time again and even in plain sight. Ashe knew that there was a bounty placed on her head the second she stepped into the Crux because after all her father had been known to be a survivor.

"Nice rides..." Ashe said to the man. Ashe felt the decals against the car. Something about the way it was painted reminded her of the way muzzle flash looks in the dead of night.

 

[Dectomax]

Sinclair smiled "This is Ford. He's our resident mechanic. He knows pretty much evertything there is about these vehicles." Ford stepped forward and patted the vehicle. "She's mah girl. This beauty will take you just about anywhere if you treat her right!"

Sinclair stepped forwards and with a strange device, unclipped the explosive collar. " We wouldn't want that damaging our good's now would we?." He smiled to himself. "Now, everything should be in order. Ford here will be coming with you. He knows the way and will be guiding you to the town of Glenn.".

Ford climbed into the truck with flames. "Ok guys, hop in let's get this started. There's five seats in each truck."

 

[Mr.Ivebeenframed]

Ashe nodded and climbed into the truck that Ford went into. Cars were always abundant wastes but working cars were only in the hands of either bandits or the ones with power although the bandits leaned towards motorcycles than cars from what Ashe had experienced. Almost all the bandit attacks that she had seen Ashe always heard the roar of the heavier bikes or the intermittent rumble of dirt bikes weaving circles around their pray like the vultures above them. Only a few times Ashe had seen the sight of actual 18-wheelers or heavier trucks on the road and those were bandits. It didn't surprise Ashe that the ones with real power only used the smaller ones.

"How far's Glenn?" Ashe asked. Ashe hadn't even bothered to talk to the other members in her crew despite the fact that they had to work together but she figured that there would be time for bonding sometime else.

 

[Dectomax]

Ford thought for a second. " Well, we have to go up route 5 until just before Willows, then we cut across and get back onto the 162. 'bout 15 maybe 20 miles. It's gunna be rough going though. the lands not the best. Ford said. He was looking genuinely excited.

Sinclair nodded. "It's about that far, I'd guess. Be careful at Willows. It's a nasty place. the people there, well...their manners aren't quite the same as ours." He looked worried for a second then smiled. "I'm sure you'll be fine.".

From behind came the sound of shackles. Out of a side door came a heavily bound man. Looking to be in his early twenties. He was bound at the hands, feet and draped over his head lay a cloak.
Sinclair laughed. "C'mon men, let our friend out, he's got his job."

From under the locks and chains, emerged a man. He shrugged his way out of the guards hold and moved forwards. He looked at the truck and found what he was looking for. He grasped his Steyr Aug, checking it over. Looking up he stared over the rest of the group, nodded and then climbed into one of the trucks. He did not look happy.

 

[Irony's Acolyte]

Kreth looked over the 'trucks' as the group gathered around them. He had seen the occasional working auto-mobile but most he had seen were rusting hulks in the wastes, great for scrap but worthless for transportation. None of the more powerful Crucible members had ever got one working; plus they were very noisy, making them pointless in the stealthy raids the inhabitants of the Crucible loved so much.

He heard one of the guards move up behind him and relaxed as the guard untied the rope binding his hands. As his hands were free he took the piece of grey cloth he carried with him at all times and tied it around his head, covering his eyes and allowing him to open them fully without the pain caused by all the light in here.

Not quite sure of the power hierarchy currently at play right now, Kreth simply hoped into the back of one of the trucks. Looking through the supplies, he noticed some weapons stashed amongst them. Searching harder his suspicions were confirmed when he found his long-knives as well as his crossbow and ammunition packed into the pack of the truck. Grinning happily at having his weapons of choice back, he sheathed his knives and slung his crossbow over his back before turning around and seeing what the rest of the group was doing.

 

[Emurlahn]

Gear continued grumbling under his breath all the way to the trucks. "Freaking airship. Freaking crazy plans." He climbed into the truck. "And not only are we going to look for something we don't really know what is. Nooo, cause that would make sense, we're of course taking a trip to Willows, just for good measure."
He spat at the ground at the memory of Willows, a place he had promised he would not visit again voluntary.

As he sat down he noticed that most of his weapons had been brought. He started putting al the things back at their usual place, and he outfitted the goggles with the light-degrading lenses, it would be needed when they got outside.

"Do you at least have a boiler here so I can load the cannon?" Gear yelled out of the truck. "And some gunpowder too." He made sure that none of the things were broken. Slight surprise showed in his face when he saw that they had brought his prototype lightning-gun too. Well at least he would have something to pass the time with now.

 

[Dectomax]

Ford looked around the garage, shrugged his shoulders and fired the truck up. It rumbled into life. Ford was smiling like a child at Christmas. Looking back out of the window he motioned to the group."C'mon guys, we need to go, hell it'll be light soon, it's gunna take us most of the day to get there!

Sinclair stood back, wafting the smoke out of his face. "Remember, bring back everything you find from that airship, try and scan the exterior too, with these. He held out his hand, in each were two small devices. "Just run these over the surface of the airship and they build an image of it. Get that data back to us and you'll be rewarded well."

 

[Emurlahn]

Gear grabbed the two devices. He put one into a pocket, and threw the other in for one of the others to grab. He then turned to look at Ford. "Does this car have a boiler? Cause apparently Sinclair doesn't even want to respond to my request." He then mumbled: "And some gunpowder would be great too, but I guess that is too much to ask.."

He looked closer at Ford. "Hey, did you use to have a workshop out a few houses from Gizz a few years ago?" Gear clearly remembered a mechanic working just down the street of Gizz's old workshop, which was now his own. "I think I made a small brass-boiler for you just after I arrived."

 

[Chaos Incarnate]

Delrath silently followed the group, they carried a strange variety of smells but the overwhelming stench of oil and gas overpowered any specific scents. Delrath paused he had only seen two working vehicles like this before, they were creatures of immense strength and endurance but in the end the Kalorik were more powerful. A guard removed a key from his belt and unlatched Delrath's bonds, Delrath clenched his fists together before grabbing the guard who freed him, "I will not be bound again" Delrath growled and dropped the man. He quickly climbed into the truck, a low groan could be heard as the truck shifted down slightly under his weight. Delrath slide his arm down his shoulder spikes and forearms. "Fight will come quickly... be ready if you don't want to die" He muttered clenching his fists together.

 

[Dectomax]

Ford leaned out of the window. "Who? I've lived here for all my life? Never been outside the ziggurat? Must be thinking of someone else? He shifted in the seat, looking excited with the prospect of finally getting to drive his Truck.

Sinclair stepped back, giving Delrath a wide berth. " There are other matters I must attend too, Ford will lead the way. Good luck! With that, Sinclair exited the garage, taking the guards with him.

 

[Emurlahn]

Gear shrugged. "Probably someone else then." He looked at the man again. "You didn't have a boiler though? I would like to load the cannon up before we get into any kind of trouble." He leaned backwards. Slightly annoyed; he would have liked to prepare better for this trip. Again he mumbled, "Well, that's what's to be expected from a damned gang."

 

[tobi the good boy]

Mortis climbed his way onto the back of one of the vehicle that rattled before him. As he lifted himself up he noticed that his left leg, from the knee downwards, was loose from his last expedition with the Dogs.
I'm going to have to fix that soon

Mortis made his way to a footlocker welded to the back of the truck, above it wrote 'Doc's Stuff'.
How astute Mortis thought as he lifted the containers lid. inside was his bag, filled to the brim with various medical supplies. Next to it was a small case with a detailed pictorial of a human heart etched into it. Mortis slid the lid on the small box open and peered inside. His eye's darted back ans forth over something concealed within and as they finally came to a stand still he swiftly closed the lid and slipped it into his pocket.

He opted to take his seat as the machines blared loudly signalling departure was imminent. Mortis found himself situated next to an older man who kept complaining about some sort of boiler. In his hands was some foreign device made of brass and cogs that looked like some twisted reimagining of the tech he had known in his past.

"OH! What's that?" Mortis asked as he pointed towards the device, his voice thick with child-like excitement and wonder.

 

[Tips_of_Fingers]

Blake had been shouted at, beaten, questioned, hustled and dragged for few hours and in his hazy state, he had no idea what was going on. Brief snippets of the previous day reached his memory.

Exhausted, Blake had reached Crux early in the morning and began interrogating the first person he saw about Rico, his son-a-*****, back-stabbing second-in-command. Unfortunately, the rage gripped him and he had killed a number of people before being apprehended. The rage had lasted countless hours and now Blake was suffering. Vision blurry, head throbbing and still occasionally coughing up blood into his hands, Blake was put in front of various people but was in no state to comprehend them. He remembered walking, being led by some armed guards...and some guy offering freedom...

Suddenly realisation dawned through Blake's foggy mind: they were looking for something. Blinking through the painful haze, Blake felt his body begin to return to normality, his muscles relaxing and the fire in his veins slowly seeping away. He was in a truck...with mutants.

"Where's my stuff?" He croaked.

 

[willofbob]

@Dectomax

Spoiler: OOC

wait, wait wait, am I in or not? this is exactly what happened last time, come on tell me!

 

[willofbob]

-

 

[Dectomax]

Marcus sat up, looking at the others who had entered the truck. "Try the lockers, on the back." He was busy checking over his rifle, as a craftsman would check his tools. Opening his rucksack he pulled out several items and a smooth clothe and begun cleaning the Steyr Aug.