Into the Wastes

[Tom]

We always knew this would happen. For years, scientists, geologists and climatologists sat in their laboratories and theorised over dozens of end-times scenarios. It seemed the world could end in an infinite number of ways - if Yellowstone didn't blanket the planet in ash, we'd be hit by an asteroid. If we survived the magnetic reversal of the poles, our galaxy would simply collide with another one. We could be fried by solar flares or gradually melted by global warming. Perhaps something unthinkable would happen to our gravitational field, and our planet would float off into outer space, leaving us all to freeze to death.

But for all the wild theories, our final doom came as a result of the same thing which had brought down so many civilisations in the past - ourselves. It started in 2013 - Iran had completed its first nuclear weapon. Naturally, western nations were completely outspoken against this, and the UN imposed all manner of sanctions upon Iran, leaving it almost completely isolated. This wasn't much of a problem - for all the dangerous rhetoric, Iran's President knew that even with nuclear capabilities his country would still be swatted by the west as if it were an irritating fly.

This hesitation did not, of course, affect North Korea. Seeing an opportunity to antagonise the USA, they officially condemned western nations for imposing sanctions upon Iran, stating that all countries should have the right to nuclear technology. Little did they realise the effect this would have - Iran petitioned North Korea to enter into a new alliance of rogue nuclear states. Over the next few years, tensions between North and South Korea continued to rise, and eventually, on 5th December 2016, North Korea launched a nuclear missile at Seoul, killing thousands and utterly destroying the city.

Outraged, the USA and the European Union declared war on North Korea immediately, hoping for a quick end to the carnage. They got exactly what they wished for, but not in the way they had expected. Standing between the USA and North Korea was the People's Republic of China, who had been buying all of America's national debt. Little more than an hour after the declaration of war, China called in all of that debt and left America crippled, with no money to fund a war.

Then, tragically, and to humanity's ultimate demise, global thermonuclear war broke out. Missiles filled the sky like the Fourth Plague, and within a matter of six hours, humanity was almost completely extinguished.

Miraculously, some people survived the six-hour war, and emerged from their shelters to begin the arduous task of rebuilding civilisation. You are part of a group of survivors, living in a small, makeshift camp in the remains of California. You don't know your precise location - you have no maps and no frame of reference. All you know is that you are in the middle of the wasteland, and there you have been since you were a child.

Your camp is a humble one - there are a few tents strewn around the place, fashioned from bits of fabric, wood, and scrap metal. You have a small farming area, but the radiation makes it extremely difficult to grow crops. The people in your camp go about their daily tasks - there are some hunters, some farmers, a doctor, and, just in case anything should happen, a single guard. Sometimes people venture out alone to see if there are any other survivors out there, but none have ever returned.

This life is all you know, until one day, the leader of your camp approaches and tasks you with leaving the camp to explore, this time in a small party. You are told to wait at the camp's entrance for your partners, where you will be given further instructions.

Good luck.

[Vicious88]

Resentful, I gather up what few supplies I have into my bag and set out towards the gate. My bag, an old tattered sack marked "USPS" shows a faded picture of a bird on it. I can vaguely remember that this bag used to have metal rings around its opening, but my father scavenged the metal for use on a fence latch when I was just a kid.

Inside my bag I've placed a small stretch of old rope (twice my height), the three needles my mother used to keep my clothes from falling apart when I was a kid, a curious plastic cube with faded colors scattered across it (Rubik's cube), an eight inch knife made out of a piece of metal roofing set in a wooden handle, a crude hatchet made of stone, my other change of clothes.

I'd have packed more but that was all I had. After my mother died, and my father went missing, most of their stuff had been "collected for the good of the colony", by that ······ <<Insert Camp Leader Name Here>>... He's had it out for me since I was a kid, and I guess my fate was sealed when his daughter was old enough to have eyes for me.

No surprise he sends me out on the same task that robbed me of my father... Honestly, despite hating the man, I'm kind of glad... I get to leave, and perhaps find somewhere better, without being considered a thief and a defect, and being hunted down for taking MY stuff with me.

I look around my now barren shanty which my grandfather had built, and my father maintained... I'm told it will be used as a storehouse after I'm gone.

I head across the camp, with a click glance at <<insert Davy's character name here>>, wondering if he'd be one of those who were "called to explore" and sentenced to the same ill fate as I am.

I get to the camp's gate, and silently admire how my father and the other men of the camp managed to do so much with so little... It's here I'll wait.

[Tom]

Tom crawled out of the guardhouse - a hole in the ground, big enough for a man to sit in, with a pile of stones around it for protection. This was where Tom spent most of his life - sitting in the hole, looking out of a small gap in the pile of stones, waiting for someone to approach. He had been doing it every day for the past four years, since the previous guard had been sent out on an expedition, never to return. The guard of the day was always the one sent out to explore, which was why Tom was the only one who had wanted the job - he had been stuck in the camp since he was just a baby, and wanted more than anything to leave.

He had been told by the head of the camp that he was to lead the new expedition, and intended to do just that. He stood in the gateway and observed the others - only one had so far showed up. Tom approached him, and nodded respectfully.

[Vicious88]

Vicious looked up from where he was sitting, with his back to gate. He made eye contact with Tom briefly before looking back down at his feet. He meant no disrespect, but he was far too distraught by the situation to be chipper to his neighbor. Additionally, Vicious had minor problems with Authority and while he was not sure who <<Insert Camp Leader Name Here>> had appointed to captain this expedition, he knew that it hadn't been him, and therefore, in his eyes, the chances of being ordered to "take one for the team" were already too high for his tastes...

After about a minute in silence, he raised his head back to Tom, and spoke...

"What're you bringing with you?"

[Tom]

Usually, Tom would have been quite upset at his colleague's silence, but today was different. Nobody had ever returned after leaving the camp, and being selected for the task was the one thing everyone had nightmares about. Not Tom - he couldn't wait to leave, and do something other than sit in his guardhouse all day.

"I figure we'll be out there for quite some time. I've got a route planned already - so far as I can tell without any maps or navigational equipment. I've got some basic food supplies, a change of clothes, and my knife. The head has given me some special permissions, too - I've got a gun with six shots."

Tom reached into his backpack and drew out a modest revolver - a Ruger SP 101 KSP-3231X, according to the indentation. He had no idea how the head had come by it and did not dare to ask, but it was the only firearm in the village - and it only had six shots, of what claimed to be .32 Magnum. For that reason, Tom had never trained with it and would have to rely solely on intuition and experience with other weapons, should he ever have to use it.

"I hope I won't have to use this. Let's step outside the gate, I want to show you the route before the others get here."

[Boxofit]

(Since Tom is Tom, can I be Box? If not I'll just edit this post to whatever character name Tom gives me or make one up if he doesn't feel like it.)

Box woke up groggily, and looked around his tiny hut on the outskirts of the camp.He tried to blink the specks out of his eyes, and immediately checked under the cloth he rested his head on to make sure his small box of fire-sticks,(matches), were still there since they were his most valuable possession. He quickly dressed in his cloth pants he had haphazardly sewn together two years ago, and a patchwork shirt Vicious had given him.
It was still a while before he had to leave the camp with the others of the group. Box didn't yet know who the others were, but decided if Vicious wasn't one of them, then he'd ask Vicious to just leave the camp on his own, and happen to take the same course as the group.
Deciding not to worry about stuff until it happened, Box sat on his sleeping cloth, and thought about all the time he had spent in the camp. He couldn't remember his parents, and no one had ever bothered telling him what had happened to them, so he supposed they had just gotten bored of the camp, and left. Box was very strong because he had been farming his own food since as long as he could remember. Because of that whenever he fought with Vicious he always tried to grapple with him since Vicious was much faster than him.
He had probably been chosen for the expedition because he and Vicious were always getting in trouble for fighting and breaking things, but Box didn't really see why that mattered since between the two of them they could always fix the things they broke.
Box noticed the light outside, and noticed it was time to go to the gathering area to meet the group, so he stood up, stretched, looked around his tiny home one last time, remembering how he had found all of his little trinkets including the fire-sticks exploring immediately outside the camp, he grabbed his canteen which was his only heirloom of his parents, and set off.
Box returned about three minutes later since he had forgotten his shovel, and the small backpack Vicious had made for him.

[Vicious88]

Vicious rose to his feet with a sigh and was ready to follow the all-to-happy man with a gun out the gate, when movement in the distance caught his eye. It was Box trudging towards the group with a shovel and a blank expression on his face.

"Hey, wait up." Smirked Vicious to Tom, not wanting to leave his friend behind.

[Boxofit]

Box heard Vicious before he saw him, he heard "Hey, wait up."
Box immediately started waving at the two specks up the hill from him, and called out, "Hey guys! Is it time to go, did I forget anything important?"

[Vicious88]

Vicious's mood was picked up a bit to see that his friend would be marching towards death along with the rest of the group. Not that death was anything to be cheered up by, but with Box by his side, it should be a pretty sweet ride up to that point.

"How the hell would I know what you've forgot?!?!" called Vicious across the camp, cause of a few of those who were staying to look up from their daily labors towards the commotion. "Get up here, you're wasting time!"

Vicious hadn't intended to be harsh, but rather blunt. The two were often blurred when wielded by him, however.

[Tom]

Tom surveyed the landscape before him, and grabbed his companion by the shoulders, steering him around to face a small gap in the line of hills that seemed to cut off this small slice of desert from the rest of the world. "You see that gap? That's where it will be easiest to get past the mountains, so that's where we're heading. From the stars, I figure it's more or less south-south-west. All we know is that we're in what used to be known as California - I don't know what's out there, but I'm hoping we'll come to the ocean at some point. Oceans mean cities, and cities mean survivors."

Another man came sprinting towards the gate, and Tom offered him his hand to shake. He didn't know many of the other inhabitants of the camp by name - his life as the guard was a pretty lonely one.

[Vicious88]

Vicious's interactions with Tom had been few, and they'd never even exchanged names before... In fact the only memory Vicious had of Tom was when Tom had scolded him for spraying dust into his guard post while dragging a log from one end of camp to another. That wasn't enough to set them off on a bad note, but he'd always thought that someone locked inside a hole all day would likely make more of an effort to be sociable.

"Alright, Boss Man... Not to shake your plan here, or anything, but if we head towards the sunset, we should be headed pretty true west, meaning we could probably hit water sooner. Only problem is the hill. Or mountain... Depending on how you look at it. But I mean, who knows, we could get lucky and spot another camp from the hill top... Assuming we make it there."

Vicious had spoken more than he meant to, uplifted by Box's approach... He had no intent to make friends during a death march, so he let out a sigh and summarized, "It's your call; Longer walk to the west with the chance of spotting others or water, or the closer level path towards the gap."

Vicious had wanted to propose a vote, but the word was so uncommon to the survivors of his camp, that he had a hard time recalling it. Usually what the leader wanted to happen was what happened, and anyone who disagreed could hike off towards the mountains.

With his idea voice, he shrugged Tom's hands from his shoulders and turned to urge his friend onward up the hill.

[Boxofit]

Box approached the man standing with Vicious first since the man extended his hand, Box gripped it firmly, and shook. He introduced himself as Box, and said it was a nice day to be setting off. After staring oddly at the man for a few seconds, his face brightened, and he said, "I recognize you. You're one of the hole guys."
He wasn't sure which of them was the leader, so he just said in general, "I'm really strong. I can hit stuff with a shovel, or dig with it, it makes no difference to me. Now that you know why I've been chosen for the group, why don't you guys tell me why you're here. I understand Vicious being here since Leader-man hates him, but why you?"

[Vicious88]

Vicious sighs and hangs his head.

[Tom]

Tom smiled at both of them. He didn't know them, but since they would be stuck together likely until their deaths, it made sense to be friendly. He shook Box's hand. "I'm Tom. The head's put me in charge of this expedition - we were just talking about where to go. I plan to make for that gap in the hills over there, it'll be easier. Your friend here wants to head due west, and go over the hills. What do you think would be better?"

He knew that, whatever they chose, they would have to get past the hills within two days - they didn't have much food. If they ate lightly, they could probably stretch it to three days.

[Boxofit]

Box considered Tom's question, and then replied, "I have no idea what's more than a few miles away from the camp, and Vicious only taught me how to read books a few months ago, so I don't know much about what used to be outside. I say we should go through the gap, and THEN head west. I read that in the west there's a HUGE golden bridge that crosses an ocean, I want to see that!"

[Vicious88]

"Yeah, that would be a good find. Lots of metal, stone, wires..."

Vicious thought for a moment about Box's "Go through and THEN west" idea... "Is this our entire group?"

((Seriously if anyone else is going to get in on this RP, now would be a good time: Dent? Mike? Flozz? Anyone???))

[ArthurDent]

( Hmmm... This isn't kind of RP I'm used to, but I'll try to adapt. )

Dent grew up under the name "That Kid". You see, Dent's father took his life before Arthur was born leaving a pregnant wife devastated and alone with no one to provide for her. She moved from household to household taking whatever anyone was willing to spare. This was a fine way to get food, and she ate better than she did before her husband's death. After all, no one was going to let a pregnant woman with no husband starve.

Then a day came a few weeks before Dent's birth that would influence Dent's entire life. Dent's mother went to the leader of the village and begged for food. When he refused to give her anything she went into complete hysterics (as any pregnant woman would) and insulted the leader in every way imaginable. The leader was a very proud man, and was going to take action to regain his honor, but at the same time, couldn't take the life of a child who wasn't born yet. So, he waiting until Dent's birth, then crept up on her while she was sleeping and crushed her skull with a rock.

Because of these events Dent grew up without a family and without a name. He never knew exactly what happened to his mother, even though everyone else in the camp did. All he knew was that her head was mush when her body was discovered.

So at first Dent did what his mother did, and because he had no name he was given the name "Kid". Dent quickly found that he would not lead a happy life if he begged like his mother, so he learnt to be a thief. He started out sloppy, and was caught committing crimes, but he was never hated for choosing the path of a thief. This was partly due to his natural charm, but mostly because he only stole to live. Thus, he went from "Kid" to "Rascal". Dent slowly became a better and better thief. One can tell because he never switched names again. He was never caught committing serious crimes, so he remained Rascal until he turned 22.

At age twenty-two one of the villagers let it slip that his mother was murdered by the leader of the camp, so Dent grabbed a rock intending to crush the leader's head in his sleep, just as he did to Dent's mother. He crept up on him while he was sleeping, and smashed his head with a stone, killing him. However, his skull wasn't crushed, all that the stone did was leave a dent. And thus, instead of being given another name, Dent took one for himself.

The other villagers were not happy with Dent's actions, so they sent him on a suicide mission, with several other villagers. Dent didn't protest. He knew that if he didn't go he would be bludgeoned to death too. So, he packed his bag, armed himself with a stolen knife, and began walking to the meeting point...

He could already see them in the distance...

" Don't leave without me! "

[Vicious88]

Vicious was moderately displeased to see Dent running up so eagerly to join the death party. He had nothing against Dent, and had in fact, often caught himself pitying him from a distance... But Dent, most likely due to the circumstances in which he was raised, struck Vicious as the kind of guy who, under the right circumstances could be a very dangerous and unpredictable man -- although throughout his life Vicious had no evidence of Dent acting unacceptably strange.

"Seems like they're throwing away all of us rejects at once..." Mumbled Vicious just loudly enough for Box to hear.

[Boxofit]

Box saw Dent heading up the road, and waved, and called out to him. Box had seen Dent stealing food from his crops plenty of times, but rather than try and stop him Box had started growing extra food just to cover what Dent took to live. Box never read much into other people's personalities, so he had no idea whether Dent was a good person or not, but Box had never heard of him hurting anyone, so decided he was alright.

[J.L Hunter]

Supplies were running out fast.
The small crop Josh had been trying to keep alive, consisting of a few dried up stalks of corn which produced tiny brown ears and a row of potatoes that came out of the ground shriveled and barely worth eating at all, were finally dying. The place where he lived, which was barely more than a shack built against the rock wall of the cliff that his parents had built before they left and never returned, was in the outskirts of the ram-shackle village, near the southern tip.
He never really knew why his parents left, probably just to try and find food for them. Josh guessed that didn’t turn out so well, so he was always dissuaded when he thought about leaving to see the village or to go out to the west. He did remember that his parents, before setting off all those years ago had told him to not talk to any passers by, to just hunker in his home and stay there until everyone was gone, because back then there had been many search parties, and he was told they would kill whatever they saw in their way. Josh didn’t know if he believed this exactly, but it was better to be safe than sorry. But there had been no travelers in almost three years, not from the village, nor from anywhere else.
Josh walked over to the limp corn stalk, and grabbed one of the few ears that were left on it. It felt mushy in his hand and when he opened it up the meal worms had already gotten to it. He picked them off and ate what little had not rotted. His stomach growled.
The water was gone. He had been collecting the rain and filtering it with a piece of old cloth. His parents had shown him how to do it, and in his delirious state, he supposed he had forgotten how. There hadn’t been any rain in a week though, and a sudden realization had come to him. He would die here, in the only place he had ever known, nestled in between the mountains. He thought about gathering up what little bit he had in his possession and making for the village, but mostly fear kept him from doing so. He was good at surviving, but Josh didn’t think he would last long against the evil men from the villiage. So the days passed by, and the crop diminished to a few sticks protruding out of the ground. There was nothing. All he had to do was wait for death to come.
Then, one morning, he saw through his glazed eyes, several figures making their way across the horizon to the north. They were headed westward . He blinked, hoping he would be blinking away the mirage, but the shadowy figures did not disappear. He got up quickly, staggering on his feet until he was able to steady himself. Although he was waiting for death, a slow, cold approach that he would accept gingerly, there was something that told him to follow the strange travelers. He thought "if im going to die, i might as well die in a way that would be suitable" and picked up his dusty bag full of things he thought he might need to survive, slung it over his shoulders and set off towards the figures, not knowing what might happen once he caught up to them. Just in case he kept a old rusty knife tucked into the wasteband of his pants.

[ArthurDent]

( A huge block of text is intimidating to the average RPer (me). Although I'll always read your entire post no matter what, it will look less menacing if it has breaks and pauses in the text... I'm not criticizing what you're doing. Just giving a little tip that makes things easier for me. )

Dent eventually made his way over to the group of travelers. He saw Vicious, Box and Tom. Box had always been nice to him. In fact, if Arthur had to like someone in his camp, it was Box. However, he didn't like anyone in the camp, so you can disregard that last sentence. He had stolen a great deal of food from Box, but when he robbed him he only stole stuff he needed (the closest thing to kindness Dent had ever shown). Vicious and Tom on the other hand he had stolen nothing but random crap from (huzzah for grammatically incorrect sentences!). Books, clothing, eating utensils; nothing incredibly important, just random crap.

All the crap he stole from Box, Vicious and Tom put together wouldn't even come close to matching the value of his favorite stolen item. A stick of Bert's Bee's chap stick. He had never used it, and didn't plan to anytime soon, but it was great knowing that his lips wouldn't become chapped as they walked through "California". He always kept the chapstick close. It was currently hanging from his neck by a piece of string, which coincidentally, he stole from Tom.

" Hey guys... Is this our entire group? I thought they'd want to send at least a dozen people off to their deaths. "

Arthur was only half joking.

[Boxofit]

Box looked around at the ragtag group of people which were now is favorite people in the world, and announced merrily, "Well if everyone's here, I guess there's no point in dawdling. How about it Mr. Mole? (Tom) Shall we head on out?

[J.L Hunter]

Josh approached the travellers just as they were leaving the gate. "HOLD UP!" Not really knowing what to expect, josh kept his right hand just inches away from the blade, which was hidden by the shirt he wore, making him look like a gunslinger preparing for a shoot out. His brown, shoulder length hair blew in the wind, he squinted to keep the sun out of his eyes. To them he probably looked crazed, like the old men who had reached the decrepid edge of their lives that dementia had consumed the entirety of their minds. He hoped not, but hope was something he had long ago forgotten, and did not see it as a luxury.
Josh walked over to where Box and Vicious were standing, near the head of the small group. He recognized none of them, but saw no fear in their eyes, nor did he see hostility -perhaps a little in Dent's, but there was a sort of natural hostility.
They all looked itching to get somewhere quick, "Where are you all going? If it's to the sea, i'd like to come along, if it is okay with you", Josh asked timidly.

[Vicious88]

"Sure," Breathed Vicious tiredly... "Let's bring a long another lunatic... What's the worst that WORST that can happen?" Vicious meant the question as rhetorical, so he knew better than to look up and make eye contact with Box, as that would prompt for an answer, one which no one wanted to hear.

"Listen Stabby, whatever it is you're reaching for in your shirt should stay where it's at. I don't know you - which means I don't trust you, so if you draw a weapon on me, I promise you that mine moves faster. Speaking of..." Here Vicious swirled around and faced Tom "I don't really know you either, but since you drew the short straw and were chosen to lead this little death march, I'll go along for the ride -- but since Trust and Knives are the topics at hand, I'd like to start off on the note that I earned my name -- so if anyone tries pulling anything over on either Box or me, we're both gone. You treat us right, and we're the nicest guys on earth -- do us wrong and I'm likely to be the last person you ever see.

"Everyone Got That?!" Vicious asked eying Tom, Dent, and the newcomer who would forever be known in Vicious's book as Stabby. "We don't leave you to die, you don't leave us? Sound fair?"

It had been the truth what he had said about earning his name. Vicious was given his father's name "James", just as his father before him had been given it. But when Vicious was 11, after his mother had died, Vicious found himself spending much of his time in one of the storehouses where what few prewar goods the camp had were stored. His favorite was an old crank styled record player and a variety of odd records which had been brought to the camp by one of the original founders. The time he wasn't in the field, helping his father with the metal work, or mending what few clothes he and his father had - he could be found secluded in the storehouse listening to these old records.

This habit earned him a "slacker" reputation with some of the other boys his age, who proceeded to harass him in every which way they could - until one of the scruffs got out of hand and one of the boys accidentally broke the record player after having pushed Vicious into it. It was then that Vicious earned his nickname by thoroughly beating the four boys in the store room, and then hunting down a remaining three who had harassed him elsewhere in the camp. Making things worse, Vicious's focus without the record player shifted more and more towards violence and when not working he could often be found brawling in a field with Box (often the two of them doing serious damage to each other at the dismay of many of the elders) or practicing throwing his knife into the old dead tree in the south side of camp.

"Wait a second" Continued Vicious, turning again to face Stabby, "You're VOLUNTEERING to come with us? The leader won't like that all, you know? I mean, I guess you're as good as dead when you leave so there's not much he can do about it, but still..."

[J.L Hunter]

Josh gave vicious a grim half smile, "Well, if i don't come with you guys, i'm dead, if i go with you guys i might be dead, so i figure i'll take my chances if you will have me." He walked amongst the group, pulling the long knife out from under his shirt. He saw everyone tense up, visious' eyes glaring at him, except Box who was continuously staring at a peculiar rock on the ground by his feet. The knife was suprizingly dull, Josh hadn't realized that, if he had pulled it on anyone the worst that would happen is the point of the blade would merely bruise the outer surface of the skin. "Look, I don't plan on using this at all. I'm coming with you to try and see if my parents are out there somewhere, probably not, but my crops are dying and i don't trust the village in the least to try and find food there." Josh dropped the rusty old thing on the ground, it made a soft thud as it impacted the rocky ground. The knife was useless anyways, but he planned on finding a better one later, he had to live up to his newfound nickname.

[Tom]

Tom shook his head at the shambles he was condemned to lead. They didn't want to go, and that would make his job far more difficult than it needed to be. In fact, he was sorely tempted to make off with the food during the night and go exploring on his own, or put bullets in the lot of them and be done with it. Needless to say, he didn't mention this to the others.

"This is everyone. Let's set off. If you duck into the guardhouse you'll find some sacks full of food. Take one sack each and follow me."

The sacks weren't really 'full' of food - they each contained a few mutated fruits, a small loaf of nearly-stale bread and a pouch of water. Tom left his companions to pick up their sacks, turned around, and began the long trek towards the gap in the hills.

[Vicious88]

Happy that the negotiating phase was done with, Vicious tagged along at the back of the group, melodically humming the tune of one of the old records he had heard as a child, and absent mindedly sharpening the knife Stabby had dropped back at the gate so as to keep his hands busy. Not far ahead of him trekked Box, who's reaction to being outside was hard to gauge, although Vicious found his silence most perplexing. Surely he had questions, was he too distracted to ask them?

Ahead of him walked Stabby, who despite being in the middle of the haphazard line seemed to be trekking through the wilderness completely alone in his demenior - rarely looking up from the bottom of Dent's feet. Dent, on the other hand, was nearly in pace with Tom, who direction the group had followed thus far with little complaint.

((Not trying to god, or anything, but just establish some basic positions as it helps me remember things like this, if you don't like where I've put you, feel free to move lol))

[Boxofit]

Box followed along looking around at everything, it wasn't long before they were further out than Box had ever been before, and he was excited to see everything, and had loads of questions to ask about everything around him, but he doubted anyone in the group would be able to answer his questions, so he took out the oddly shaped rock he had been eyeballing by his feet earlier, and started lightly tossing it up and down to pass the time.

[J.L Hunter]

They all followed along a road that was nothing more than a line depressed slightly into the blackened ground, defining itself as different from the rest of the scenery by its slightly lighter color. Nothing was said for a while, Josh could almost taste the hostility among the group, or maybe it was indifference he wasn't sure. There were moutains to the far west, their sillouettes pasted against the cloudless blue monocrome skyline and Josh guessed because that was the direction they were going that that was their destination. There was really nothing special about the arid desert they now trekked across, every once in a while Josh would see hollowed out skull of some animal he couldn't even begin to name, laying atop the sand like someone had just placed it there. Nothing alive, which was promising. Of course that promise would be death no matter what.

He fished out a folded piece of paper from the leather satchel he had brought with him, its tattered remains looked as if it would fall apart if he held it the wrong way. It was a map, an old one that his parents had kept from the time before. He carefully unfolded it. On top were the words, "California and major cities". Josh examined it for a while, not being able to make out any of the signs and multicolored lines that crisscrossed each other like a spiderweb. Supposing that Tom and Visious would want to see the map, he quickened his pace so that he was beside the both of them and held the map where they could see it,
"Are we headed to this place called Los Angeles?" He pronounced the word Loss Angal less.

[Vicious88]

"Hell if I know." Grunted Vicious looking up to see the map which had the words 'Waffle House' written on the lower corner, each letter in it's own box, and odd thick-lined illustrations on the back.

"What the hell's a 'waffle'?" Vicious let slip from his mouth. "No - wait, never mind -- that's not important -- you see that entire eastern side of California, Stabby? We IMAGINE, thanks largely to the desert and the mountains that we're somewhere over there. So in other words, we have no clue where we are, and no clue where we're headed aside from West. So unless boss man here-" with a quick head nod Vicious acknowledges Tom who was looking at the map with what could be perceived as either curiosity or humor (though Vicious was not sure which) "happens to have some particular point of reffrence he's looking for; our best hope is to walk west until find water. Because water is our best chance of finding something or maybe even some*one* who can tell us where the hell we are."

[Boxofit]

Box nodded at Vicious' statement. He also went on to say that one of the historical books he had read called "History III," had said that a civilization or camp is most likely going to spring up in places with a ready source of water since everything needed water to live, but at the same time most water was heavily irradiated, so most of the water sources that hadn't been hit would probably be tucked away in tiny hidden areas no one had ever heard of.

[Tom]

Tom grunted at the map with disdain. "It must be dozens of years old - half of it probably isn't there any more. Look, the best thing we can do is head for that gap over there." He reiterated his point by nodding his head to the southwest, and kept on trekking for the gap. They had been walking for quite some time - the camp could still be made out in the distance. The sky was getting darker - clearly night was drawing in.

"We can keep going for another couple of hours, and then we need to set up camp. When I stop, you stop. We don't go any further than that."

[Vicious88]

"We're barely willing to move -- I doubt any of us are going to keep walking if we don't have to." Said Vicious with a smirk.

Vicious estimated that they were just past the half way point towards the gap in the mountains - meaning he'd made it further than he gave the group credit for. They were so far out into the desert now that what little 'road' they had been following had vanish, and the sands they now walked on had been shaped in small rolling hills by the winds as they came down the mountains.

Aside from marching headlong into death, this wasn't such a bad day. Vicious had seen much hotter days back at camp, and it'd been a good few weeks since the last sandstorm blew through... So as long as the winds kept at a calm breeze, the night should be peacefully cold.

"Here's a thought, that just now came to me." Said Vicious, voicing the thought as it became more and more clear to him, "The founders of the camp... for whatever reason... decided that the best thing they could do to survive... was to build a camp in the middle of the freakin' desert. Doesn't that seem strange to anyone else? Whatever we're walking towards - is something they must have been actively trying to get away from."

[ArthurDent]

( Quick question James... I understand why the speech was directed at me, but why Tom? Is it just because you don't know him, and don't trust him yet? )

The entire journey was turning out to be more fun than Dent thought it would be. Mainly because Vicious decided he would let everyone know how much of a badass he was. He was being an egomaniacal attention *****, and Dent was pretty sure that most of his speech was directed at him. Dent and Vicious were clearly not going to get along. In fact, if Vicious continued being such an ······ Dent would have to do something to make him shut up.

"We're gonna walk regardless of any thoughts you have, so stop thinking and start walking. Jeez. It's bad enough to think about our lack of water."

[J.L Hunter]

Josh eyed dent suspiciously. Maybe the heat and the long walk was making all them a little strung out.

They walked until the ground became more and more unsteady, the once sterile sand now riddled with rocks and chunks of charred metal. Josh had to watch his step as he almost stepped on a blade of glass jutting out of the road. It wasn't until they were walking through the landscape of metal and huge standing stones that were hollowed out and resembled skeletens across the sky to the sides of them, that they were in a city of some sort. It seemed ancient by the way things were leaning as if they were about to fall over any minute.

Josh said to Box, rather sporatically, because vicious and tom seemed to be distracted by everything around them, "Do you think there's water here?"

[Boxofit]

Box heard Stabby's question, and answered, "I wouldn't doubt that there's water in some of the darker shadows around, but it's likely been there a while, and stagnated. So it'll be no more good for growing plants. Even if we distill it we'll be taking the nutrients out, and ruining any value it had to us."

Box then continued walking, and looking around. The heat didn't bother him since he worked in his field almost all f every day, he sort of wanted to start reading a book, but he had forgotten to bring any with him. He decided it would probably just end up distracting him anyways, so he decided to re-wrap the handle of his metal shovel again. The cloth he put over it was very aged and worn, if he spotted some new cloth he would probably use it instead, and make a headwrap of the older cloth.

[J.L Hunter]

(Okay, sorry about the whole description thing and unintentionally stealing the roleplay creator's job in taking the story along, i understand now and ignore that paragraph of description i had in the previous post; again, my apologies)

Josh looked around at the desert around him, how desolate it all was. Back home was nothing like this he thought to himself, however most of the time he spent inside his shed home during the day, and at night he managed his crop and walked around for food.

He looked down at the pack that Tom had dispersed through the lot of them. It bulged toward the bottom like a starved child's stomach who just gorged himself with an unexpectedly large meal. He wasn't hungry, the thought of eating now nauseated him in this heat. His mouth was dry, his lips so chapped they felt like two big painful callouses lining the dry stinking hole that was his mouth.

He thought about what Box had said and wondered how they were going to survive when the provisions were gone. He wondered about Dent, those empty eyes, that he would do anything imaginable just to live another five minutes. With tremendous effort Josh blinked his eyes, pain seared through his head like someone had just shoved razor blades through the sockets and into his brain.

[ArthurDent]

( Jesus Christ Tom. Get on with it. And if you don't want to, or you don't have anything planed I'll take over. )

[Mike]

(I have something planned, but you have not reached the requisite point in the journey yet.)

[Tom]

((I was waiting for Mike to post so he could have a chance to get in on this, lol. If he doesn't post in a couple of hours, I'll continue.))

[ArthurDent]

( I'm fairly certain it's been more than a couple of hours tom. )

[Tom]

The party had now reached the foothills. Now the mountains rose ever taller, blocking out what sun remained. "It's dark," said Tom. "We'll rest here tonight. Everyone, find what you can to sleep on." He turned to Vicious and hissed sarcastically at him. "Since you're obviously better than the rest of us, you can keep watch tonight. Wake us at dawn, and not a moment before.

Tom shrugged the backpack off his shoulders and cast it down onto the hard dust of the desert floor - a pillow. He lay his head down upon it, and watched while the others made their own sleeping arrangements. His intention was to keep Vicious as tired as possible tomorrow. That way, he wouldn't be so mouthy, and, hopefully, he'd drop off along the way.

[Mike]

(ehehe the fun comes soon. after you all wake up, in fact.)

[Boxofit]

Box unwrapped the handle of his shovel, and used the cloth to cover as much of himself as he could, he had chosen a large flat rock for his bed as he hated getting sand in his clothes, and besides if they didn't have a chance to wash their clothes for a while it was best to keep minerals out of them in order to avoid unnecessary wear, and blistering.

[Vicious88]

Vicious rolled his eyes at the ignorance of the proposed leader... If he'd thought about what it was he'd asked of Vicious, then he'd realize that he was requiring him to go two full days without sleep -- as the group isn't likely going to wait around for Vicious to rest up.

"Actually, while I'd rather trust myself with my survival: If it's all the same to to you, I'd rather have half a night's sleep than no sleep at all. So how about I take the first watch, and have Box cover the second half?"

He addressed his question at both Box and Tom, though Box's approval to be woken in the middle of the night was really all he cared about.

[ArthurDent]

Dent smiled to himself while everyone began to fight. He had somehow managed to stay under the radar for the first day of their journey, which he was proud of. The only other person who had managed to do this was Josh, which made Dent think about Josh for a few moments. Dent obviously needed to be wary of Josh, seeing as he'd never given Dent a good reason to be wary of him... Josh was clearly the biggest threat of everyone in the group. Dent didn't know a single thing about him. He didn't know his strengths or his weaknesses, and on top of that he didn't have knowledge of a single aspect of his personality. For all he knew Josh could be planning to kill him that very night. This thought didn't bother Arthur in the least.

Instead of trying to construct some form of a bed Dent laid down on the cold dirt, and closed his eyes. However, he didn't go to sleep, he was still listening to the group's conversation.

[Boxofit]

Box waved his arm in approval of taking the second watch, he only ever slept for five hours at home anyways, and walking all day had not tired him since he was used to working his fields all day anyways, actually so far this trip had been easier than farming, but he had a feeling that would change once they reached the mountains, an all day uphill climb didn't sound easy to him. He decided not to worry about it though, he'd approach it when the time came.

As far as his feelings on the group went, he found them pretty entertaining, he could tell that Mr. mole and Vicious would be good friends soon since they bickered like brothers, and they both seemed generally pessimistic.
He knew Dent sort of, even though they had never spoken, he knew Dent wasn't a bad guy or he would have tried to have taken something important from Box before rather than just stealing food. Stabby had come out of nowhere, but Box had examined his hands, and saw the lines of spade usage, Stabby was a farmer which meant he was trustworthy, anyone who spent their life raising new life in this wasteland could be trusted in his book. He liked the way they all felt so comfortable with each other even though they had only been together a short time, except for he and Vicious who had been friends for years, he decided he'd probably fight with Vicious sometime the next day if they sopped for a break.

Box went to sleep smiling while thinking about that.

[J.L Hunter]

Josh stayed awake for the most part of an hour after most of the group fell asleep. He stood in a grouping of large rocks to the east, staring up at the stars. He wondered what had become of his mother and father, so long ago, and what had made them decide they needed to leave, was it because they knew they would die shortly if they stayed? That was probably it he thought to himself.

He could feel the awareness of one in the group, Vicious was obviously awake, as he was on first watch, although Josh would have elected to do so. It was Dent he felt awake, who lay on the cold dirt with not so much as a thin blanket to seperate himself from the earth. There was a detatched pity for all of the ones in the group, that didn't exclude himself either, although he wanted no one to pity him.

Realizing he needed to explain some things to at least one member of the pack, he walked over to vicious, "You know why i came with you all? Because i've been watching the village with a fear that was instilled in me, but all that time i had no reason to fear any of you. I guess i wanted to find out for myself, and to give my life some kind of meaning." Josh knew Dent was awake and aware of what he was saying, and although he was primarily talking to vicious, he directed his voice to any of the group that happened to be listening.

[Vicious88]

"Okay." Said Vicious to Stabby. He wasn't trying to be cold, but he really didn't want to have a heart to heart with someone he didn't know...

Roughly an hour later, Stabby went ahead to sleep, and the rest of the night was fairly silent except for a pair of small scorpions which wandered through the camp pulled in by the heat of the fire... Vicious killed one with what had been Stabby's knife, and the other ran back off into the bush. He considered sweeping the dead scorpion away, but the chance of having it be the first thing Tom saw upon waking, was far too great to pass up.

As the moon reached the high point of the sky, Vicious walked over and nudged Box with his foot. "Hey, it's your turn... Do me a favor and wake me before waking the rest of them, okay? Wake. Me. First."

He handed Stabby's knife to Box, despite the fact that Box was much more inclined to bash any threats to death with his shovel.

After waiting long enough for Box to be almost fully awake and nod agreement, Vicious set about making his own sleeping spot a few feet from the fire.

[Boxofit]

Box patrolled around their little camp checking everything before trying to decide on the best vantage point to watch from. The night was cool like he had predicted, but not incredibly cold, there weren't any really deep shadows around the camp, and nothing looked suspicious at all, he finally settled on sitting on a large rock so he could look over the camp, the rock was up against a couple of others, so he could rest his back against them.
He idly began re-wrapping his shovel as he waited.
After a while he decided to sharpen a stick with the knife he had been given, and impaled the dead scorpion near Tom, and roasted it by the fire, he had often done this back home, and once cooked, the venom added to the flavor, afterwards he resumed his post from the rock he had sat on earlier until the sun began rising, and he began to see the first stirrings in the camp.

[ArthurDent]

( Tom, it's obvious you have some RL stuff going on that's keeping you from posting here. I DO NOT want this thread to die. I want to see this thread through to the end, and thus I erge you to let me (or anyone you think would do a better job than me) take over. )

[Vicious88]

((All anyone has to do to move us forward is wake up. It doesn't make sense for my character to be "stirring" already, as I was the last to sleep. Davy failed to get me up before the rest of you, as noted by the fact that his post ends prompting either Tom, Josh, or Dent to wake and begin "stirring"... So rather than everyone waiting around for everyone ELSE to post... POST SOMETHING, PEOPLE!))

[Tom]

((I was only waiting for someone to wake up))

[Boxofit]

After watching everyone stirring for about ten minutes with noone getting up, Box yelled at the top of his lungs, "HEEEEEY VIIIICIIIIIOOOOOUUUS!!! IT'S TIME TO GET UP!!!

[Vicious88]

With a deep sigh and a murmured "Damn it", Vicious woke and began to pack up his section of the camp for the day ahead.

[ArthurDent]

( Do you guys mind posting exactly what you have in your bags, so I don't have to god mod when I rob you tonight? )

Dent considered yelling at Davy, but he decided that Davy probably had a more powerful voice than him, and would win in a yelling contest. Plus, Davy could probably kill Dent rather easily, so Dent staggered to his feet and waited for orders from mole man.

[Boxofit]

(My Character name is Box.)

Box saw that everyone was starting to rise, and decided to check his supplies while he waited. He took his backpack out from behind him as he had been using it as a prop during the night, and scanned through it. There was a small faded book with the words "Island of the Blue Dolphins" barely legible on the front. In a small pocket sewn into the inside of shirt he had his fire sticks.
He had emptied the bit of water Tom had given him into his canteen which was strapped to a loot on his pants waist. He had the peculiar looking rock he had found the day before in his backpack since he decided that he liked it, and it was the type of little trinket he usually picked up randomly, and brought to his house. There was still a small bit of food that tom had given him wrapped inside the backpack along with the sack it had come in, as well as the Scorpion he had cooked during the night, and planned to eat later. He had a Needle, one almost gone spool of thread, and a small length of rope about his height.

After box had finished checking his supplies he hopped down from the outcropping of rock, and went to rejoin everyone in the camp.

[Tom]

Tom arose quickly and began to rummage through his backpack. He took out a pouch of water - containing slightly more liquid than the others' - and took a few sips. "This heat makes my throat feel like sandpaper," he complained, and then glanced over at Vicious with a hearty laugh at his tired eyes. "HAHA! You don't look so well, Vicious. Nevermind, I'll take the watch next time we stop."

He turned around to survey the path still ahead of them. They had reached the very beginning of the foothills - just a few short miles beyond, the mountains rose into the hazy sky, simultaneously elegant, yet daunting. Their target, the gap in the hills, was in clear sight, and Tom was about to deem that the group should move on when a white glare suddenly struck his face. He looked upwards, shielding his eyes from the fierce light, and saw what appeared to be the source. There appeared to be some form of metallic object atop one of the higher foothills which was reflecting the sunlight down onto the camp.

Tom posed a question to the others. "What do we think that is?"

[Vicious88]

Vicious said nothing, but instead stared off towards the gleaming hill top to watch the light... If it moved, it was most likely alive, and if it was alive, it already knew where the group was, and how many of us there were, which meant that Vicious and the rest would be at a disadvantage if it was hostile.

The only problem with staring into a light, is that you get tunnel vision, and spotting it's movement, if there is any, becomes hard...

"I don't know, but it's got the high ground over us. It could be some sort of trap... There was a book in the Eastern Storehouse which told about a fish that used a light to lure in food."

On that note, Vicious turned around and began to watch over the back flank of the group, knife drawn. He'd have drawn both knives, but he never got Stabby's back from Box.

[Boxofit]

Box quickly rubbed the dust off the end of his shovel with some cloth from the handle, and after re-wrapping the handle he used the shiny bottom side of the spade end to reflect some of light back upwards towards the source, he didn't know if a person were up there shining a light at him, but he didn't appreciate it, and would blind them right back if he could.

[Boxofit]

(The End?)

[Mike]

("In the end, we'll lie awake, and we'll dream of making our escape.")

[ArthurDent]

Dent pushed himself off the ground and rubbed his eyes. Dent, not being the type to try to avoid danger, simply said "Let's go look at it."

[Boxofit]

Box began walking towards the hill the light was coming from alongside Arthur, he would definitely climb to get to the bottom of the situation.

[Tom]

Tom beckoned for the others to follow him and began to march up the hill, towards the mysterious glint of light. As they approached, Tom realised that what they had seen was in fact a small makeshift metal hut, made out of sheets of corrugated iron, entrenched in the sand. It was a ramshackle affair, covered in rust but still bright enough on that one side to reflect the light. Why had Tom never seen it before, from the camp?

Tom reached into his backpack and pulled out the revolver, keeping it trained on the hut's door. "You - Box. See what's inside."

[Vicious88]

"Says the man with the both gun AND courage." Smirked Vicious, from his safe distance behind the rest of the group -- still cautiously watching their flanks.

[J.L Hunter]

(sorry i haven't been posting lately, inspiration for writing has been in short supply lately, just act like I'm hanging low in the background until my creative block stops)

[Boxofit]

Box heard Tom's order, and moved quickly to the door, the shovel he was holding behind his back, ready to pivot swing it around quickly in case there was something on the other side of the door wanting to hurt him. Box first moved his hand very, very slowly towards the door, and after about twenty seconds of him moving his arm five inches Vicious told him to hurry up, so he quickly knocked on the door, and asked if anyone was home, after all, just barging into someone's house was something you only did after you met a person, and Box didn't remember any of the villagers having this house out here. When nothing answered, Box pulled the door open quickly, and stepped back to give Tom a clear view of the inside.

[Vicious88]

Vicious quickly stepped to the side so that if anything should burst straight out of the door, he wouldn't likely be in the stampede path.

[Boxofit]

After what seemed like days Box slowly edged back up to the door, not wanting to obstruct Tom's sight, and cautiously peeked inside.

[Mike]

Inside of the small house was a makeshift table, made of a large wooden crate and in one corner, a rusting wireframe bed. A small electric light hung from the ceiling. Buckets of water lined one wall of the hut. Small roughly square holes, one in the three walls opposite the door, served as windows to allow sunlight and a light breeze into the dwelling. The hut was devoid of people, but clearly, someone had been living here, quite recently.

[Boxofit]

Box gazed at the empty home, and quickly noticed that outside of the home the grain of the the sand was disturbed, meaning that someone or something had been coming or going. He gripped his shovel tightly, and began looking around for any signs of life besides their group, when he detected none, he told Vicious, "Looks like there are people outside the village after all. The sand here at the door has been packed by someone passing over it, seems they didn't leave a trail though, so no idea where they might be, could be watching us right now."

[Vicious88]

"Fantastic." Said Vicious, who definitely didn't like the thought of being watched from afar... "Alright, so what do you guys suggest we do? The only thing here I see as worth looting is the light -- but if Box is right, these people could be watching us right now, and for all we know, they may be watching us through the sites of a rifle."

Vicious spoke these words, but then realized that if there was someone with a weapon and an intent to use it near by -- they'd have likely fired when Tom drew the pistol, unless of course they couldn't see it -- a thought which prompted Vicious to sidestep and watch the wilderness directly behind Tom for signs of life...

[Tom]

Tom swallowed his fear, looked at Vicious, and stepped into the hut. He kept the gun drawn in close to his chest in case he suddenly needed to fire at short range, but it didn't appear as though there was anyone in the hut other than himself. He took a few steps over to the rear wall and peeked through one of the makeshift windows, allowing the gentle breeze to caress his face. "I see nothing but haze on the other side of this hill. Maybe it will clear up later in the day."

He then turned his attention towards the light, dangling precariously from the ceiling. "Amazing," Tom said, and unscrewed the lightbulb. "This hut was obviously built after the war. I wonder if whoever lived here managed to produce power, and if so, how?"

[Vicious88]

"No clue." Vicious said with a mild gruff... "But if you can follow the line you'll likely find your answer."

Vicious kept his concern about investigating the house of someone who is very probably hostile to himself. His only concern was that no one came up while they were there and found the theft of a light to be a killing offense... Unless of course, they weren't as well armed as the group, but considering their ease of living (isolated shelter AND electricity), that seemed unlikely. No, Vicious could only imagine that a sweet setup like this was something that would most likely be earned through bloodshed.

[Mike]

From behind, a voice slowly questioned, "Just 'at are you folks doin' in our house?"

[Vicious88]

Dammit thought Vicious... JUST AS SOON AS I'M NOT LOOKING OUT BEHIND US! Vicious raised his hands up slowly placing them behind his head -- a position which seemed like surrender but actually closed the gap between his hand and the knife in the back of his shirt to less than two inches.

"We..." Vicious said desperately seeking a reply which did not give too much information... "Are lost. Saw your house up here and hoped you could point us in the right direction. Tom, you wanted to talk to, uhh... Yeah..."

[Mike]

The speaker, an elderly man in his 70s, was flanked to his right by an elderly woman, presumably his wife. Both had starkly white hair, and the woman looked frail and sickly. The man was holding what appeared to be a double-barreled shotgun.

"'hat choo lookin' so scared for, boy? I just wantad know why you was in my house. We don't normally get visitors, even from that camp right out der' in ta valley."

[J.L Hunter]

Josh came up from the back of the group, after having remained silent for the longest time while they were traveling, and said, "We're not here to cause trouble for you two. We're pretty much lost and are just wondering if there is anything west of here?" He glanced at vicious, wondering what was running through his mind.

[Boxofit]

Box, who had never seen or heard of a shotgun, didn't understand why everyone was so tensed up, surely they knew that old people were nice. So he walked up to the old couple, and offered his hand saying, "Hi, I'm Box. I really like your home, but can you explain to me how that light works?"

[Vicious88]

Stabby's probing glance, gave Vicious the feeling that it was alright to turn and face the voice. Keeping his hands behind his head, he turned to face the old couple, and (more accurately) their shotgun.

Once he was turned to face them, he lowered his hands further down his neck -- taking the knive from the back of his collar into his hands - although from the front it would hopefully just look like a relaxed adaptation of his previous pose.

The last minute replayed itself in Vicious's mind, and he nearly shuddered at the realization that Box had drawn attention to the light Tom had earlier removed. Light bulbs were not likely easy to find in this world, and as such, Vicious could easily imagine Tom being blown to pieces as punishment.

Having no real favoritism towards seeing anyone in their group die, Vicious thought it best to distract from the light for now...

"You know of our camp? We've been their all our lives, and have never seen signs of anyone else... I mean, hell, everyone who leaves, never returns -- getting sent out to explore was always viewed as sort of a death sentence."

Vicious presented this information quickly, in as few breaths as possible, so as to hopefully overwhelm the mind of the old man and change his tone from one of hostility to one of inquiry - though in the silence that followed Vicious could not tell if the old man was thinking about what was just said or not.

[Mike]

The old man lowered his weapon, and smiled. "Well, I reckon' none a' them folk know how ta make it out here. Heh heh. Its tough when you're on your own, something you young folk probably wouldn't 'precia-"

The woman standing next to him interrupted him, "Don't take my husband seriously, he appears tough on the outside, but he's really kind. Please, make yourself at home! We never get visitors," and formally welcomed them into the hut.

(I r not good at this. Or storytelling in general)

[Vicious88]

(It's cool, you've got a good response time)

[Vicious88]

((Apparently, if I don't post no one does... So I'm just going to come out and ask, who all cares to keep this RP going??? Cause if not enough people are on board, I'm likely to just close the thread...))

[Boxofit]

(I'd like to keep it going, but if god doesn't move life forwards, then it won't move forwards, no matter what.)

[Vicious88]

((Actually, it doesn't have to be Tom or Mike who posts next -- just someone OTHER THAN ME who has enough of an interest in keeping this RP going to progress with the story. I stress someone other then me, because I've been posting ever other post several pages now, and I don't want this story to be about any one character -- which means we can't allow people like Dent and Josh to fade away into the background through inactivity)).

[Boxofit]

(So...should I hax to become DM until I die or we find someone better, or Tom or Mike or anyone interested really decides they want to take over?)

[Mike]

(Mike is an unskilled immigrant, whose only purpose is to introduce you to the Technocratic Union, and the New California Republic, should the game ruler allow the second one.)

[Boxofit]

(I don't understand politics at all. I'll try though if Tom isn't opposed.)

[Vicious88]

(This RP is turning into Fallout)

[Mike]

(Not on your life. I just added the NCR bit for the lulz. We don't have a proper atmosphere for Fallout.)

[Boxofit]

(So Tom, do you mind if I move the RP along until you feel like doing it again, or someone better comes along?)

[Vicious88]

((As Vicious waits endlessly, he begins to hum one of the old songs he listened to as a child:

http://www.frankedgar.com/3_-_Simple_Man.mp3

[ArthurDent]

( Dead thread is dead. I don't think now is the best time to resurrect it, either. )