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

[Tips_of_Fingers]

Blake found his trusty crossbow, a quiver of bolts and his old, rusty hunting knife in one of the lockers. Strapping on the quiver, he looked at his 'companions' for the first time since regaining his clarity. Mutants, the truck was full of mutants.

"What's goin' on?" He rasped, anger building, "What the fuck are we doin' with these hellspawn?" He pointed at the obvious mutants, disgust plastered over his ragged features. Gripping his knife tightly, Blake waited for an ansmwer before striking out; something he wasn't used to doing where mutants were concerned.

Better not cause trouble right away...someone this powerful might be able to help me find Rico...

 

[Mr.Ivebeenframed]

Ashe looked and right away she heard the bickering that they gave off. Ashe didn't like working with a mutant as the next person but everyone here was as bit as useful to each other in one way or the other.

"It's simple, we work together, find some airship, and bring back whatever we can find. If you want you can kill him afterwards but right now we need each other to survive." Ashe said to the rather irritated man. Ashe hoped that her long-winded response didn't indicate at all of her rather fake voice. It would hurt Ashe's throat every time she deepened it for long periods of time.

 

[Dectomax]

Marcus looked back at the man, frowning he rested his gun on his knee and listened to the conversation. "She's right. We go there get this shit done and you can do whatever you want after, I don't care. It's a nasty bit of land we're heading too and we'll need everyone to get through it. Just concentrate on killing any scum that get in our way. Leave the rest out." Marcus looked annoyed, he'd rather not work for Balthazaar, the man was ruthless. But he'd work on that after, for now freedom was a good enough prize to warrant this temporary truce.

 

[Tips_of_Fingers]

Blake snorted derisively... "hmph, These mutant scum are getting in my way just being here." He leant back, sheathing his knife. "I've never met Balthazaar...heard some pretty interesting things about him though. If I do this for him," Blake hesitated, "and leave those things alone for now, can he help me find someone?"

 

[Dectomax]

Marcus let out a laugh, it looked strange coming from him. "Balthazaar? He's a big fish in a little pond." Marcus looked more serious. "He's got contacts, sure but he only 'runs' this city. Anything further out is fair game." Marcus smiled for a moment. "He's one hell of a resourceful fucker though."

Ford yelled something out of his window and the garage doors opened. He drove the truck out into the open courtyard and then waved back, motioning for the second truck to start up.

 

[Mr.Ivebeenframed]

"Balthazaar has eyes and ears everywhere not to mention the Stronium dogs on his leash." Ashe said as she reached over and grabbed her bag. First she checked her MP7A1 but it was already extremely worn out as it is. There scratches everywhere and she was sure that there was some dust in the barrel. Next was her Colt Python. The magnum was a matte black but rust crept up along the barrel like vines on a tree.

"Crux is just one of his little places that he likes to call -his- city..." The rumble of the truck's engine was reminiscent to all those times her father forced her to come with him all those many times. Whether it was for another one of his tasks that he made her do or the "business" that he made her watch, Ashe always felt a little uncomfortable on the road.

 

[Tips_of_Fingers]

Blake smiled at Marcus, his eyes cold and hard in their sunken sockets. "I am also a..." he waved his hand briefly, as if swatting a fly, "resourceful fucker. If Balthazaar can't help, then I'm sure I'll make do. I always have." His smiled widened, turning into a grimace

Turning to the younger man who'd addressed him, Blake glared. "And what do you know of the Strontium Dogs...boy?" His mouth twisted with the final word, mocking and agitated. "You're hardly old enough to shave by the look of you. Fourteen? Fifteen at most?" His eyes pierced into those of the 'boy's'. "You're well-informed for a kid, too."

 

[Mr.Ivebeenframed]

Ashe grinned at the man's remarks. Ashe was tempted to reveal her identity but she just wanted to see how far she can take it as with most of her encounters like this.

"I'm old enough to know that people like you are generally lucky enough to live for this long in the wastes without knowing their place in today's society. I don't think you know how fortunate you are to not be connected to a man like Balthazaar by way of a price on your head and I sure as hell know that you don't know anything about how brutal life can be in the wastes. Don't preach to me on how much age factors in this world because all in all we live in a world where age doesn't quite matter anymore..." Ashe said. It felt good to vent every once in a while and this time was no different. Ashe sank back a little bit in her seat seeing what else this man had to say to her.

 

[Irony's Acolyte]

Kreth rolled his eyes behind his strip of cloth as the man who seemed to hate mutants so much made a fuss. Kreth didn't care one way or another about mutant or 'normal'. Everyone bleeds the same when you jabbed a knife into their gut. Or at least Kreth hadn't found anyone who bled different.

Kreth took out one of his knives and began to make sure everything was fine with it, cleaning the blade and checking it for any breaks. The whole while though he was listening to the one member who had spoken up towards the mutant hater. Kreth wasn't sure what it was, but he was able to detect something off about the man's voice. It didn't seem like the natural tone of it, almost like the man was faking it. He couldn't be sure though, the engine making it hard to pick up. Instead he simply crouched and listened, looking over at the two while they talked.

 

[Dectomax]

Marcus leapt into the front seat and twisted the keys. The engine roared into life, shaking the truck. He pulled out into the courtyard, Behind the Ziggurat stood, illuminated by spotlights and floodlights, men sat on the higher levels, rifle in hand. As the trucks moved forwards, the front gate opened, to a bridge, heavy defences lay on either side, with a fifty calibre machine gun watching the bridge. Snipers lined the structure, observing the city.

As the trucks chugged forwards, a radio crackled and Ford's voice came through: "Keep behind me and don't go off track! We're gunna head out of Crux and hit the high 5." His voice sounded as excited as ever.

Marcus kept an eye on the sides of the roads, beneath the headlights, people were scurrying back into the alleyways and peering out at them. The truck rumbled over the uneven ground, bouncing as it hit dents and potholes on the broken roads. The cold night air swept in through the side windows, washing over Marcus's face.

 

[Chaos Incarnate]

Delrath snarled at Blake, "Quiet fool, I'm quiet hungry... and you look rather sweet" Delrath grinned barring his teeth, I will kill him before this is over Delrath turned to the rest of the group, he was the most obvious mutant of the group but several others were certainly not entirely human. Delrath leaned over his knuckles touching the ground and peered out back as Crux began to grow smaller and the bleak wasteland swallowed it up

 

[Tips_of_Fingers]

Leaning forward in his chair as the truck pulled out of the garage, Blake smirked at the boy and humongous mutant who had addressed him. Voice calm and quiet, Blake spoke: "I know nothing of the brutality of this twisted earth? I have encountered such hardships and suffering that you wouldn't believe...and all as a result of these," He flicked a hand towards Delrath and Kreth, "abominations. We live such brutal lives because the Good Man is punishing us for allowing these evil beings to live in our world."

Tilting his head so they could get a good look at the livid scar running along the left side of it, Blake continued: "See this? This is proof of my knowledge of brutality. Brutality between comrades pushed to the limit thanks to creatures like them!" Blake's voice had been raised by the end of his statement, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth.

Calming himself visibly, Blake fiddled with his crossbow. "But as they say," he shrugged, "we gotta work together," his smile never touched his eyes as he fixed them on Kreth, "put personal differences aside, right Night-Eye?"

 

[Chaos Incarnate]

Delrath slammed his fist into the trunk, a sharp twang echoed out, "That is not brutality, seeing as you still alive." He paused for a moment sitting up and slide his hand across his face. "Brutality is something... else, worse" Delrath hated the common tounge but he believed this "Mutant Hunter" would not be foolish enough to attack and discover true brutality.

 

[Emurlahn]

Gear looked at the young man who had asked about his cannon. "This?" He tapped the cannon, it made a hollow clacking sound. "It's a steam-powered cannon. My own invention." A slight sound of pride was clear in his voice. "It'll send one of these," He hold up one of the brass balls up before the youngling. "Out with a speed about 900 feet pr. second. Making a nice round hole through a man." He made a spiteful grin. "And it is accurate up to about 2500 feet. So you don't want to be at the wrong end of it."
Gear then turned around to the bickering people. "Could you guys wait with killing each other till the rest of us don't get caught up in the collateral damage?" Gear signed heavily. "Cause some of us actually enjoy being alive, at least sometimes."

 

[tobi the good boy]

Mortis was storing every word to memory. This was a new form of technology he had seen so little of in the wastes, It was vital that he remembered everything he could. When the fellow in the huge goggles had finished explaining the inner workings of his weapon he had turned to the other captives on this little mission of ours and started complaining again.

Mortis studied over the weapon, eyes rapidly flickering over every inch of the weapon. He tugged on Gears arm to grab his attention, he had noticed something off about the cannon.

"Excuse me but you said that it uses steam, shouldn't you seal that crack?" Mortis queried as he directed the older mans vision to a hairline crack on the underside of the cannon.

As he did, an all to familiar feeling ran up his arm and Mortis watched as his index finger tore and fell into Gear's lap.

uh-oh

 

[Emurlahn]

"Bloody, arsemongering, brutish, fu..." Gears voice trailed of as he saw the finger. He slowly took the finger with his right hand, lifted it up and studied it. "What the hell?" He mumbled again. He looked at Mortis. "I hope this is not some kind of disease, cause if it is." He gave the man a stern look. Then mechanically he flicked the lenses out of the goggles ans exchanged them with the magnifying set. He studied the finger again. "Interesting." He looked at Mortis, "The tissue is still living as far as I can tell." He pushed the goggles up on his forehead. "Is this some kind of mutation?" This was said at an almost whisper, trying to make sure that the mutant hunter didn't get another to fight with.

 

[Irony's Acolyte]

Kreth cocked his head as the mutant hater addressed him. He met the man's gaze, though it was a pointless act seeing as his eyes were covered. It was more out of instinct than anything. The man seemed to know a bit about Kreth considering he had figured out the cloth wasn't used to indicate blindness. Or perhaps he knew about the Crucible. He wouldn't be the first mutant hater to go after the tribe, though none had succeeded in wiping them out. They were usually good fights too, unless they were just some wasters deciding to pin the blame of their troubles on the obvious scapegoat. Kreth doubted the man was so naive though, considering Balthazar had 'hired' him.

"You know of the Crucible then? You know about my mutation?" Kreth said, while lifting two finger to his face to indicate his eyes. "Then you know we give a good fight."

Kreth was visually handling his one knife now as he continued to inspect the man. "We kill one of your family? Take them as slave? Or maybe we gave you one of those scars, huh?"

 

[tobi the good boy]

Mortis' smile grew wider, some people scream when that happens and make a damnable ruckus.
"One could call it a mutation." Mortis reached out and retrieved his lost appendage from Gear.

"But it was not by birth. I hail from a community that was saved from the destruction of the great war of the Ancestors, our speciality was genetics." Mortis positioned his finger back into its correct position with only a tiny gap in-between his hand and disembodied finger. After a few second of anticipation Mortis displayed privately how the blood in his body flowed freely from the gap in his hand into his index finger and pulled it back in place.

"It was called Sanguine, A man made mutation that allowed for the sealing of wounds." And with that comment the blood leaked forth, flowed around the wound and formed a red flesh like substance sealing and reattaching the limb in it's rightful place.

"However, high radiation from where I lived has damaged my muscle and flesh. I constantly need to patch myself up." Mortis let his words hand as he flexed his fingers testing their dexterity.

 

[Dectomax]

Marcus looked over his shoulder, listening to the conversation in the background. He shook his head and continued watching the road. They were going no faster than twenty miles per hour, the roads, if they could be called that, were little more than cracked asphalt with overgrown vegetation growing in-between the nooks. The lights of the city were being swallowed up by the darkness as the vehicles headed further away, slowly chugging along the 'high 5'. The wastes stretched for miles, until they rose up into mountains to the west. The night was clear and stars shone down upon the land.

 

[Chaos Incarnate]

Delrath turned toward Kreth surprised at the man's sudden barbaric tone "I think we won't kill each other, maybe we take turns with this one" Delrath turned back to Blake "You make many enemies in the wasteland" Delrath thumped his chest, "I make dead, no enemies that way" A sudden breeze passed Delrath that unmistakenly carried the scent of freshly spilled blood. Enemies Delrath hoped, they would satisfy his bloodlust and if in the confusion one of them were to die all the better.