In the early 21st century, during the summer, a supernatural meteor crashes to Earth. Shortly after collision, many organisms undergo mutations, and the dead begin to rise. In this supernatural, undead-survival setting, the party must work to keep each other alive, and slowly rebuild civilization to ensure humanities existence. Players will begin pre-outbreak, living their lives as they normally would with their only knowledge of the meteor being a phenomenon and assumed to be passing by safely. Astronomers named it cryzoloth, which was derived from the scrambling noises of radio waves that are emitting from the meteor.
Game Setup
Level 1
87 attribute points to distribute. Cannot have an attribute be more than 18 or less than 3. Racial attributes can bring you to 20 and such.
All base races available. You're still human though. Just use the other races' stats if you'd like.
Gestalt! You're welcome (or I'm sorry).
Starting equipment can be whatever you would reasonably have considering your background.
Considering the dependence on improvised weapons, there simply are no penalties to using them. It all depends on your proficiency and certain weapons will be treated like certain martial weapons or exotic and so this will determine whether you take a penalty or not.
This can be debated, but I would like for us to just be able to use power-attacks and combat expertise as conditional modifiers. I'd also include Desperate Attack, where you take a penalty to AC for one round but gain that penalty as a bonus on attack rolls. This does not give martial characters a boost in my mind, because it would benefit artillery characters as well, because I'm expending it to work with ranged attacks.
-Power Attack: -x to Attack, +x to DMG.
-Combat Expertise: -x to Attack, +x to AC.
-Desperate Attack: -x to AC, +x to Attack.
Improved Unarmed is no longer required to be a prereq for the other feats in its tree. Unarmed attacks can be lethal as I'm simply considering them Simple Weapons. However, the feat can still be taken, and it provides +1 to CMB and CMD for two combat maneuvers of your choice. Monk auto-gets at lvl 1.
Feint is a combat maneuver check instead of a Bluff check. Follows same principles as other Combat Maneuver feat trees.
Skill changes:
Climb and Swim = Athletics.
Ride omitted = use Drive checks for vehicles.
Handle Animal = used for Ride checks to ride a mount.
Disguise omitted = used in Bluff checks.
Fly = piloting airborne vehicles.
Sense Motive omitted = Now used as a CMD of sorts. 10+(1/2)lvl+Perception=SenseMotive vs Opponent's Bluff roll.
Use Magic Device = Knowledge (Computers).
Weapons, especially fire-arms, will often have secondary attributes associated with them. Some have great benefits, to where they are considered exotic and special training is required to use them. Some examples are:
Auto-matic weapons: Double number of attacks, but at a -6 penalty to all of them. -3 for those with Exotic prof (Automatic).
Large auto-matic: Can be fired in a cone. -4 to attack roll for every square the width increases. -2 for those with exotic prof (automatic). Attack roll vs. Reflex Save. Takes a Full-round action to use big weapons, no matter what the kind.
Shotgun: Shotguns have a higher crit range. 18-20x2 for opponents in adjacent squares (5-9ft), 19-20x2 at 10-19ft, and 20x2 at 20-39ft. Those with exotic prof. (shotgun) add 2 to each range. (16-20 (5ft), 17-20 (10ft), 18-20 (20ft), then 19-20 (40ft)).
Snipers: Sniper guns are capable of making shots with long range and great accuracy. To utilize a sniper's advantages, it requires a full-round action. For every attack you are able to make in a full-round action, add half your Dex modifier (as a bonus to the one already incorporated in ranged attacks). Those with exotic prof. (snipers), add full Dex. Snipers can be used as normal rifles, but at a shorter range and without the benefit of this ability.
Semi-automatics are the most standard.
Martial weapons can have special abilities as well, mainly in the form of advantages against certain types of foes. Not all undead are the same in this setting, so some may be more vulnerable to piercing strikes than bludgeoning strikes and so forth. This makes feats and weapons that allow you to shift between these attributes very beneficial.
Armor is less utilized than in a fantasy setting, but it can still be important for resisting bites and other sources of damage. Armor instead provides DMG reduction. Certain attacks may entirely negate or reduce an armors DMG reduction. AC increases as follows...
No Armor Prof.: Column A.
Light Armor Prof.: Column B.
Medium Armor Prof.: Column C.
Heavy Armor Prof.: Column D.
Changes to armor proficiency because of archetypes apply. The Defense Bonus is applied whether you are wearing armor or not, so armor just adds DMG reduction equal to the AC bonus (along with ACP and spell failure and such).
Advanced commercially-hidden technology and the high levels of radiation from Cryzoloth are the excuses for magic in this game. Stable magic users are extremely rare and are more feared than accepted. Other than that, magic and spells are virtually vanilla.
You can resist infection and transformation with a Fort save vs 10+HD (this might be tentative). After 1d20 hours, you will die and rise as the undead. However, for every 4 hours you roll, you get another Fort save (1-3 no bonus roll, 4-7 1 bonus, 8-11 2 bonus, 12-15 3 bonus, and 16-20 4 bonus rolls).
I think this is enough info for a sandbox game. We'll figure it out as we go! :)
Durt.
poops magoops!
Officially my 1st primary character of this game. Disregard previous post.
"TIME TO FRRYYYYYYY SOME TURKEYS!"
NOTE: The information in the "Campaign Info" tab is updated, and will always be the most recent update. I cannot edit it further in the Gameplay tab.
Work in progress. Dirty maverick renegade Detective Jack Cosic is shaking off his hangover with bourbon and cornflakes.
It has been three weeks since the fall of the great meteor known as Cryzoloth; a phenomenon that has baffled even the greatest scientist considering its undetected arrival and the inability of their instruments to discern its properties. Cryzoloth exploded as it hit the Earth's atmosphere, distributing its debris throughout the planet and causing great destruction at points of collision. The dark-violet flame-like vapor lingers on the meteorites, and the very sky itself seems to take on a similar hue near these specific areas. Many of the meteorites now have laboratories built around them, as scientist struggle to study them.
It is estimated that 3,000,000,000 people have died from the collisions alone, and a few million from the resulting spike in crime-rate, especially where they have struck major cities. Its abrupt arrival left a very small window of time for analyses of trajectories and executing evacuation procedures. Cities flood with refugees, and the true causality of the destruction begins to unfold as denser populations lead to increased conflict, markets begin to plummet as the value on certain goods drastically shift, and governments struggle to uphold the law amid the chaos. As a result, many underground societies begin to surface, as their unregulated power finds an opportunity to grow when order weakens.
However, at this point in time, there is still hope for humanity. The apocalypse has not officially happened.... yet...
Monday, September 2nd, 2013. "Labor Day without Holiday".
New York City has been a "haven" for refugees the past three weeks, though with each day bringing new arrivals, the realization that it is growing more and more dangerous is despairing. Many of the refugees are immigrating from New Jersey, where one of the pieces of Cryzoloth struck, virtually destroying most of the state. Imagine the destruction a mini-nuke (not similar to Fallout) would cause.
You and your partner, Esteban Ramirez, drive in an unmarked car to a human-flooded downtown hospital about a mile from HQ. The increase in pedestrians and the erection of make-shift housing (slums) make traveling much more difficult, so the drive takes you nearly 20 minutes. Despite the drastic changes to peoples' lives, you still have a job to do, so you and your partner go over the details of the case you are working on.
Ramirez sips on a black coffee as he looks through the dossier of the interviewee...
Ramirez: "Look at this sick punta. He stabbed his own grandfather 12 times in the chest. All because he bit him on the arm. F@**ing pu$$y. They were both stationed at the C-lab in Jersey, I guess they worked togeth-"
His jaw drops as he turns the page and sees the photo of the culprit's arm. You sneak a peak out of the corner of your eye to see an extremely deep chunk missing, exposing the bone.
Ramirez: "Jesus Christe. Are people resorting to cannibalism already? It's only been three weeks. Imagine what case we'll take on next week. I heard in the news that a guy in North Carolina already murdered his family, saying that he 'saved them'. Just what this f%@#ing world needs is more sick f@$+s."
The name of the culprit is Peter Marx. He's a scientist who was stationed at a C-lab in Jersey and his grandfather is one of the lead scientist named Harper Marx. Peter is under arrest but at the hospital in downtown, and Harper is at the morgue undergoing autopsy. The incident occurred earlier this morning around 7:00am. It is now 8:34am.
1.) Conduct an interview with Peter Marx. Though he has admitted to the murder, he strongly argues it was in self-defense and should be released. You are to get whatever information you can on the matter.
2.) After the interview, you are supposed to go to the morgue to inspect the body of Harper Marx and gather information from the forensics team conducting the autopsy.
Cosic regards the photograph passively, "Yeah..." His tone made it unclear whether he was in agreement or just trying to push the conversation to an end.
Damn kid talks too much. At least Franco knew when to shut up. Won't have him back till they finish patching those burns with the skin off his fat ass. Poor bastard.
He pulls the Lincoln into the back entrance of the hospital where a slue of pedestrians clogged the street. Laying on the horn only answered him with middle fingers and some unintelligible words of contest. Ramirez reaches for his star but Cosic smacks it down onto his lap. "Listen rookie, you go flashin' that thing around and we'll be stuck out here for the next 5 hours logging problems we don't have the manpower to deal with."
He edges the car closer to the crowd and, eventually, they get the idea that he wasn't going to quit. A few people hit the hood and throw some garbage at the windshield but it was all in vein. He parks the car and tosses his aviators on the dashboard before climbing out and straightening his blazer. "Just listen and try t'look tough; and let me do all the talkin', alright?"
You and the Allington family made it safely to the bunker in the back of the mansion before the meteorite struck. Your gut says its been a week and a half, but cell towers and energy grids were destroyed in the blast, and so it's hard to tell for sure. The Allingtons are a very important family. They're land developers that have business throughout North America, so their wealth is nothing trivial. You are charged with protecting their lives at all costs; a line of work you are well suited for. You oversee all bodyguard activity, and are trusted directly with the protection of the family members themselves; Matthew Allington (dad), Mary Allington (mom), Jacob Allington (son, 22), and Patricia Allington (daughter, 21).
You and one other bodyguard made it to the bunker with the family. The condition of the rest of the guard is unknown; not to mention having no idea of the outside condition entirely. The guard with you is named Brian, who is about 13 years younger than you are, and most likely has less of a badass background. You decide it's about time you get the family to the surface and see what evacuation procedures are taking place.
Marcus: "Mr and Mrs Allington, kids, we need to see about getting out of here. We should try to evacuate the city."
Matthew: "Agreed. Where do you suggest we go?"
Marcus: "There's no way of tellin'. My gut says they'll be evacuating north to the nearest and safest airport. Though who knows how far that blast went. Stay here. Brian and I will check the outside."
Mary was doing nothing but sobbing. She sobbed everyday around this time while you were down here. Sometimes it's just what people need to do. But not you. You act.
Patricia: "I want to go with you. I can't stand it down here anymore. The cell towers may be back up. We can maybe find out what happened."
Jacob: "You're so f%*!ing retarded, Pat. We were hit by a meteor. That's like, getting hit with 50 zillion nuclear bombs! Sorry, but you're not going to find s&&* about dick."
Marcus: "Mr Allington. May I?" Matthew nods his head. "Jacob, SHUT YOUR F~++ING HOLE!! You think getting hit with a nuke-like impact is the perfect time to berate your sister? Act like a f@#!in' man and guard your family."
Jacob: "You can't f+@#ing talk to me like that! You dog!"
Matthew rapidly walks over to Jacob and grabs him by the face.
Matthew: "Jacob.... shut up."
He released his face with a heavy shove. You nod your head to Brian and you two make your way to the stairs and undo the hatch.
The gust of fresh air you'd expect was not there. A strong violet haze lingered in the air, and the mansion was entirely destroyed. This included your means of transporting the family. You would have to escort them through the streets that were obviously cracked and broken in large places. The property is located on a hill, and so you have a nice lay of the land: bridges were in ruin and temporarily repaired with military bridges, people scrambled the ruined roads and over large piles of rubble toward the highway north or south. Few went east toward the mountains. Some sturdier large buildings stayed erect, but for all things considered, destroyed. You'd military attempting to maintain order and direct people toward evacuation points. You see a group of army transports by the bridge, and decide that's where you will go.
Marcus: "Mr Allington, family, come with me. We're heading toward the bridge. We'll try to catch a ride to an evac zone. From their, we can take a plane to your condo in New York City. At least there will be a place to stay, assuming it's not blown to bits. But we'll find that out at the bridge."
Matthew: "We're in your hands, Jackson. Pack lightly, this shouldn't take to long."
Patricia: "But, what about all of our stuff?"
Marcus: "You aint got no stuff, P. So don't bother even being upset about it. Lets go. There's still plenty of earthquakes so the sooner we get to an evac zone, the better off we'll be."
Monday, August 12, 2013. "Watchers in the Dark".
Kalyna: (French)"Oh my god. You need to stay still. It isn't that bad. Once it's through, you'll see how painless it actually was. You're working yourself up."
Unnamed Client: (French)"I... (pants)... No, I don't think I can do this."
Kalyna: (French)"Look, sweety. It's an ear-piercing. It's not even an industrial. Look at this s@$!..." Kalyna pushes her hair back, the side with blonde and burgundy highlights, revealing an elegant assortment of piercings on her left ear. "You see? You're just getting a lobe done. And you're going to look so good with it. I made this earring myself, so you're getting a unique piece of jewelry not found anywhere else in the world stabbed into your head. You should feel honored."
Unnamed Client: (French)"Well... I guess when you put it- AAAHHH!"
Kalyna: (French)"Congratulations. You're now a work of art."
Kalyna escorted her client to the register to pay and then out the door. At the same time, her younger brother (age 17), who is also her roommate, enters her shop.
Oleksandr: (Slavic)"Hey sis!"
Kalyna: (Slavic)"Olek! Ya out of work early?"
Oleksandr: (Slavic)"Yeah, we were pretty slow today. Thought I'd bring ya a coffee... and maybe catch a ride home."
Kalyna: (Slavic)"Well, unfortunately I took the bike today. But you can take the bike, because I think Laurent and I are going out to dinner tonight. But come in and hang out anyways. I'm done with appointments for the rest of the day unless someone walks in."
Kalyna and Oleksandr sit down in the lounge area where a tv is. He turns it on and begins flipping through the channels. As he's scrolling through, he passes an image of a giant, violet flaming ball and quickly switches back to the channel. Astonished, they both realize it is on the regional news channel.
Oleksandr: (Slavic)"Holy s&+@! What the f$~$ is that?"
Kalyna: (Slavic)"I couldn't tell ya, but it looks like it is some sort of comet or something. Can ya turn it up?"
They sit and listen...
Anchorman: (French)"...undetermined what exactly this is as none of our satellites managed to detect it. Its abrupt arrival has astounded scientists, but one thing they know for sure is that the strange color is unlike anything they have ever seen associated with a comet. They are trying to determine its trajectory, but in the meantime, people frantically begin evacuating away from cities, flooding the streets. People are also cramming themselves into subway systems in a hopes to bunker themselves from a potential collision, but many emergency responders are trying to discourage them, claiming they could trap themselves from fallen debris. Still, at this point, it is undetermi-OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! RUN! RUN! GO! GO! GO!"
At that point, the meteor explodes into hundreds of pieces, and the camera man bravely follows the blazing violet fireballs as they jet across the sky toward unknown horizons. Eventually, an extremely loud explosion is heard, and the camera went down. Kalyna and Olek run outside to stare at the sky; joining the rest of the people in the city as they step out to observe the phenomenon. Hundreds of people fill the streets as they stare at the violet streams that color the sky. From the looks of it, the streams seem to be radiating out from a single point, and no fireball is in site that they can tell would endanger Quebec City.
Kalyna: (Slavic)"Olek, we need to get a hold of dad. I'm going to find a radio."
Oleksandr races to the phone and Kalyna heads to the garage attached to the back of the shop to search for her radio. She eventually finds it and races inside back to the lobby. At that time, Laurent, her current squeeze enters the shop.
Laurent: (French)"Ummm... what the f*$@ is going on? I've been inside all day and it appears I missed the coolest jet-show ever."
Ignoring Laurent's comment...
Kalyna: (English)"Anything, Olek?"
Oleksandr: (English)"Nothing. It says his service provider is no longer available."
Kalyna: "So we have no way of getting a hold of him... dammit. Okay, lets check the radio first. Maybe some new developments have happened..."
Laurent clicks on the radio for her. He was a bit too helpful for Kalyna's taste, but he was a hot enough guy for her to tolerate his puppy-like attentiveness.
News Reporter: (French)"...ities of Toronto and Niagara Falls is completely in ruin. We're reporting from helicopter and if you could only see the destruction this has caused. We've received reports from other areas as well; multiple locations in North America are hit and other areas around the world are predicted to be met with collisions very soon considering the velocities of the meteorites. The inability for anyone to react to this cataclysm has lead to massive death tolls. L.A. has been hit, Mexico City, New Jersey..."
Kalyna: "NOOO! NO NO NOOO!! Olek, we have to go, now. Laurent, please, you have to get us to my car."
Laurent: "Yes yes, of course. Lets go, quickly. I'll go with you."
Kalyna: "Shouldn't you stay here with your family?
Laurent: "Quebec City seems to not be in any real danger and the only family I have here is my step-father and his kids. I want to be there for you. I'll help anyway I can."
Kalyna: "Thanks tuts." She pecks him on the brow. "We can't waste anymore time. Pack light and quickly."
Laurent: "Does your dad live in New Jersey?"
Kalyna: "No-Long Island, but it's close enough and we haven't heard anything about New York yet." Kalyna races over to the register and takes out all the money that is in there. "My landlord will have to be understanding considering the circumstances. Lets get out of here."
With that, they departed from Kalyna and Olek's apartment and followed the southeastern streams that illuminated the sky a tinge of violet. It has a very unnatural feel that they could not help but notice. Like a sort of presence that was unmistakable. Like being watched from above.
1.) Escort the Allington family safely to the National Guard located at the fallen bridge.
2.) Gather information on the current state of things and try to find an airport that will take him and the family to a safe-house, hopefully in New York City.
1.) ROOOOAAAADTRIIIIP!!!
2.) Find potentially dead father.
Monday, September 2nd, 2013. "Mr. Hyde".
It is 6:22amEST. You were given residency here at the Coeus-Lab (C-Lab) in New Jersey. Before the fall of Cryzoloth, you were progressing through your doctoral degree in the biochemical sciences. That doctorate was so close, you could taste it. But unfortunately for you, your merits and honors, in addition to your published research on pathology and bioengineering, placed you high on the list of wanted scientist that are petitioned to work for the government, or a contracted entity of said government, during times of catastrophic events: close-encounters with human-extinction being one of them. Begrudgingly at first, you accepted the job, and realized later that it would benefit your career greatly and you'd have an edge over your peers.
C-Lab is a federally contracted research company. They are heavily relied on as a think-tank (the company is more properly named Coeus Institute, but commonly is called C-Lab), for technological development, and general research, especially in bio-engineering.
Here you are, three weeks later. The place where you were conducting your research was spared, but now that you have been called to Coues Institute, it's left to the demise of.... Luckily your lab partner, Dr. Peter Marx, was interesting enough, so he kept your mind occupied. Not to mention there was little time to think of anything else, considering the importance of your job. 3 million people dead within a few minutes, and millions more dying from societal collapsing (literally and figuratively. Also, these large numbers are considering the meteorites struck all over the world).
You are at your computer; in a room mostly made of glass, the walls transparent save for signs stickered on them to provide directions (and probably also to keep people from running into them). These rapid-deployment facilities were designed to provide the basic needs of a laboratory, and be able to be constructed in variable terrain. Considering these labs are built around the meteorites, they have a containment chamber that harbors the fallen rock, with many rooms surrounding it containing all the basic needs of a scientist, even dormitories, as usually these labs are used in remote locations (New Jersey is now considered a remote location). Including you, there are 17 scientists stationed at NJ C-Lab, one of which is the great Dr. Harper Marx, a German scientist who taught at Cornell and is considered the leading scientist of this facility. His grandson is Peter, the one you work close with. You can tell they never really got a long. Harper was not the most socially tactful, and was often too involved with is own thoughts to bother with human interaction. But a genius, he was no doubt.
Believe it or not, it is still 6:22am. Peter walks in with coffees for everyone. He hands you yours last, and sits down to go over some figures, and to just shoot the shat.
Peter: "You've been here all night again, haven't you?"
Esteban: "Okay okay okay... Chief wasn't kidding when he said you'd be difficult to work with. But he also said you're one of the best." You both step out of the car. "He said you were the guy that caught the 'Werewolf of New York'. Took him down on your own after he put three of your partners out; two in the hospital and one in the morgue. They say he was seven feet tall and harrier than most men. But the real reason they call him the 'Werewolf' is because he'd tear his victims to bits and he'd only kill on a full-moon. He killed people throughout the country, didn't he?"
It seemed Esteban knew enough about the case, but it was dusty with conjecture. He was 6'6", blonde, and no more hair than usual save for long hair and a beard . He did usually attack on full-moons, but his plans did not always work out perfectly and he'd strike early or later depending on the situation. But that was a big case for you, and earned you much respect in the force, though you still flirted with the end of your career with your ways. If it weren't for the current chief, you probably would have lost your job by now.
You get to the elevator in the parking garage and take it to the 3rd floor. You notice some people have made homes in the parking garage as well, but no one disturbs you or seems to even pay much attention. They looked pretty ragged, probably more refugees from Jersey, but more and more people were coming in everyday from all over.
The elevator door shuts, and you feel your weight increase as it carries you up to the 3rd floor.
Esteban: "Sad to see people this way. I still don't know what's happened to my family in Mexico. I just hope it's better than this."
The lift stops and the doors slide open, revealing the chaos that has become the hospital. You got an immediate impression that they are horribly understaffed and running out of room because people were being treated in the hallways with nurses performing tasks usually assigned to a doctor. You inconspicuously show the receptionist your badge, stating you're looking for Peter Marx. She directs you to room 323.
En route, you walk by a few rooms, sneaking quick peaks inside. Many had crying families inside, but not all were sad. One in particular had an old man on a hospital bed with a bandage wrapped around his chest. He seemed to be happy with his family: a young-man, maybe 22, a younger boy, probably about 15-16, and then a young-woman of about 24, full of tattoos, dyed hair and some piercings. Perhaps not so much what you would want a hypothetical daughter of yours to look like, but artistically done considering the other tattooed freaks you've had to deal with in the underworld.
Esteban: "Looks like the room's just up ahead."
Inside was one police officer; Thompson, you think his name is. Tall, with his hair clipped close to his scalp. Nice enough guy and he did his job well. Peter laid on the bed with a bloody bandage wrapped around his arm. In one of the chairs sat a young looking women, blonde hair and plush pink lips that could find the center of a tootsie-pop with ease. You saw a lab coat hanging on the coat-rack, the blood smeared over it made it look like tie-dye. She must also be from the C-Lab in Jersey, and was probably there when the incident occurred.
Officer Thompson: "Good morning, detectives."
"No. Not really all night, per se, but yeah, just all morning." She sighs and collapses into a chair opposite her colleague then starts pushing back loose strands of corn-colored hair from her face. She was very young and very pretty, a mixed blessing in her male-dominated field.
"You know I don't drink this dreck, Peter," she says with a feisty air as she skirts the coffee back across the desk. She rises almost as abruptly as she fell, takes a steamy flask from a bunsen burner and empties it atop a powdered compound at the bottom of a ceramic mug with the caption 'World's Best Daughter and Biomedical Engineer with a Focus in Comparative Biomechanics and Physical Anthropology' scrawled in black (checkpointing itself twice around the circumference) against an otherwise plain white backdrop. The mug was a gift from her father - one he thought to be a very good one - when she began her post-grad career.
She twirls a stirring rod in her "tea" and watches out the window as a dozen researchers and twice as many interns hustle about the makeshift lab with clipboards and coffees. It had been 5 hours since she waved her badge at the security checkpoint and picked up where she left off only a few hours before but she was still at a loss for how to proceed and, judging by the actions of the others, she was not alone in that sentiment.
"Has Dr. Marx had any success with the sample?" She didn't have to specify which Dr. Marx she was inquiring about.
"He killed people throughout the country, didn't he?"
"Yeah, he did." His typical lack of enthusiasm wavered slightly as he continued. "Put a bullet in him for each a' our boys. Thought the one to the face woulda put him down but the doc said it ricocheted off his jawbone and came out the other side. Sonofab+*!* got wheeled outta the ICU and into lockup two weeks later." He gives his partner a cold look, "Even if he can't remember their names, he sure as hell remembers mine. Every time he talks must feel ‘bout as soft as a dentist's drill."
Woulda emptied my piece in that f#@+er's skull if Martin hadn't called it in. Said "Justice can't be measured in blood." "Can't save em all" I told him before he took off for the hospital. Year later, some highschool kid stuck him eight times with a beer bottle. "Can't save em all" I told him. He didn't want to hear it from me. Had to see it for himself, I guess.
The elevator doors pinched out the view of the tired and poor New York City kept their gates open to for the past century. Free as they were, the huddled masses would only be breathing the smells of garbage, human s+&! and hospital refuse.
"Sad to see people this way. I still don't know what's happened to my family in Mexico. I just hope it's better than this."
Cosic doesn't make a reply; he just looks from his partner to his own reflection in the dented steel of the elevator's doors. Don't put those hopes up too high, kid. It's still Mexico.
The elevator rang and his image disappeared, replaced by crowds of hysterical patients and an equally hysterical staff. "Hijo de puta!" Ramirez calls at a man who nearly knocks him to the floor in his rush to board the lift. Cosic grabs his partner by the shoulder and yanks him out before the doors close, just enough time for the hothead rookie to make a profane gesture for the other man to see.
"Keep your head, kid." were his only words of advice as the squeezed through the halls en route to Peter Marx's room. "Must be someone special, getting a private room at a time like this. They give you any more info on Peter Marx or the guy he killed?"
Marcus and Brian guided the Allington family through the ruin that was suburban Las Angeles. Mounds of rubble stacked as high as the second story of some buildings, and great fissures made some paths impassible. After 15 minutes of walking through the mayhem, still making your way down the hill the mansion was located on, you counted over 50 dead bodies. Those trapped in traffic, no intention of escaping, simply because of the fact no one had time to react or know if it was dangerous to begin with.
Marcus: "We're nearly there. Stick close to me. This is worse than I thought."
Brian: "Jesus... look at all of them. There's just piles of them in some areas... where people gathered to stare at their demise in the sky."
Marcus: "Quit being dramatic, Brian. I need you sharp right now. Save the grieving for when we're safe."
Eventually Marcus leads everyone to the National Guard trucks by the bridge. There was a small crowd of people waiting to be evacuated. The impression that most people died in the collision was apparent, and the remainder were evacuated earlier in the week. Though you did not have a view of the entire world, it felt a whole lot emptier.
Jacob: “Holy s**&! Look over there!” Mr. Allington's son points to the south, near the center of the city.
Though the meteorite itself was blocked by the remnants of buildings and other obstructions, the source of the violet haze was apparent. There were already helicopters flying over in that area, and at that moment another flew just overhead coming from the east. Barely making out the logo, you think it said Coeus on the side of the copter. Some are large and some are small, but they all seemed to be carrying equipment.
Marcus approaches one of the guardsmen while he assists the refugees into the truck.
Guard: “Please sir, we need to keep everyone in order here. You need to wait in the back.”
Marcus: “At ease, solider. I just have some questions for you. I'm a retired captain in the Marines; I'm aware of the protocol.”
Guard: “Even so, sir. I have to ask you to move to the-” Marcus interrupts the guard.
Marcus: “What's the status on New York City, corporal?
Guard: ::sigh:: “Sir, please, I will not ask you agai-” Another gentleman in uniform approaches, a familiar face.
Sgt. Riley: “Captain Marcus. My god, man. I have to say, I am not surprised you survived the blast.”
Marc: “Riley. It's good to see you, even in this hell-hole.” They shook hands. ”I see the National Guard does see some excitement every now and then. But I'm sorry, I do not have time for s*%$-shooting. I'm charged with the protection of this family here and I need to know the status of New York City.”
Sgt. Riley: “It's less exciting than the Corp, especially after being under your command. But it was a wise decision when I started a family. Couldn't charge into hell with you anymore, but I'd like to think I fight the good fight on a different front. But you're right. It's damn good to see you but we have no time. New York City is a haven for refugees, but it's filling quickly. Chicago is another one that was spared in the collision and is not as congested; you may be better off evacuating there.”
Marcus: “We need to try to get to the City; they have a condo there.”
Sgt. Riley: “What are you playing baby-sitter now? If only the rest of the refugees were so lucky.”
Marcus: “Just doin' my job, sarge. You understand.”
Sgt. Riley: “Honestly, Marcus. I don't. Lets get you guys loaded up. We'll take you to the air-force base some kilometers north of here. Should be about a two hour trip. We'll get you just outside the city, but as far as getting in is up to you guys. There's some transportation going in but to get anywhere takes an extensive amount of time just because of all the people piling on the streets. Jersey is completely gone, and so is Philadelphia. That's where most of the refugees are coming from.”
Marcus: “G## d*&mit... just what the f++& happened? Do we even know what it was? Or what it is?”
Sgt. Riley: “A meteor. According to the air-force. But the lab-coats can't figure a damn thing out about it. Coeus Institute has been leading the research; constructing makeshift containment laboratories around the meteorites. They're unlike anything we've ever seen before. Literally. They're completely invisible to RADAR.”
Marcus: “How many are dead?”
Sgt. Riley: “Hard to tell... current estimate... 3 billion from impact. Within minutes, 3 billion people gone. That's just under half of the world's population. The worst is yet to come, unfortunately. The U.N. is virtually non-existent, and many nations, including ours, have crumbled into chaos. The past week and a half, most military and police forces are struggling less with getting people evacuated and more with murders and robbery. Where have you been, anyway?”
Marcus: “Bunkered down.”
Sgt. Riley: “You're damn lucky, Marcus. But a lot of people would rather be dead. Welcome to the New World.”
At that moment, a man in a hazmat suit approaches, walking in an uncontrolled zig-zag, wobbling from side to side as if under fatigue. His helmet was on but not attached. He fell to the ground about 10 meters away, and people started rushing toward him.
Sgt. Riley: “Son of a b~&#%, what now?! Marcus. Get yourself and the ones you're charged with into the truck. It was good to see you, old friend. I'd say 'we've been through worse'... but have we? Just take care of yourself.”
Marcus: “I can't say we have. But it oddly feels like home.”
Marcus and the family load into the truck with some of the other refugees. About 20-30 people remained, some very upset with the special treatment you and the family received.
The truck starts up. You observe the situation with the man in the hazmat suit. A combat medic approached him, checking for vital signs; Riley right behind him inspecting over his shoulder. The people were ordered to stay back, and some took the opportunity to climb into the already congested truck. As the truck began to drive away, the man in the hazmat began twitching violently. The medic removed the helmet, and black and red blood fountained out of his mouth, causing the medic to jump backwards. You see the man in the hazmat roll onto his knees to let himself up, but a sharp turn in the road and the obstruction of a bluff prevented you from witnessing the fate of the Coeus scientist....
The Northway (I-87 in NY) was a damn parking lot. The North Country never had so many people in it at one time.
Laurent: “I'm about to freak out. We haven't eaten since this morning cause we can't seem to get anywhere. Lets just get off at the next exit and take the county roads.”
Kalyna turns up the music. One of her favorite songs from her teen years came an old mix CD she found buried in her glove box. Since the internet has been down, her grooveshark was inaccessible and radio stations were either destroyed, or reporting about the impact. They were sick of hearing it; 'nearly half the people in the world dead'. Their non-sealant attitude was only an indication of shock. Their biggest concern was their father.
Kalyna and Oleksandr's mother died a long time ago, when Kalyna was nine and Olek was three. The thought of losing another parent rehashed old feelings. Olek is much more calm than Kalyna about it, bearing less doubt of their father's life than her. She kept her spirits up though. It was the only thing that could be done.
They were about 20 hours away from New York City, and from the info they gathered, it was spared in the blast. Still, their father lives near the City and no doubt it was not spared from all the destruction.
Kalyna: “I think we should just stick to the Northway. We have no clue where we're going. Last thing I think we need is to get lost in the Adirondacks.”
Laurent: “Aren't you an avid camper? I think camping would be wise so we can f$++ing get some sleep and maybe eat something. Your g*@ d&*n brother ate most, and the rest of, our food that we brought.”
Olek gave a snarly look. He wasn't in the mood to be scolded. It was comfort-eating.
Kalyna: “What the f@++, Laurent?! What's gotten into you? For one, don't swear at me or my brother. And two, you can discuss your thoughts, issues, and feelings with me anywhere, anytime, but you will act civil toward me.”
Laurent: “I'm... I'm so sorry. That's not like me. Olek, I did not mean anything. You know I've always liked you. This has been a crazy week... thinking about my family. Well, my real family. It was such a normal day, last Monday. And then our world virtually collapsed, and the sky changed color. 'Is the sky blue?' has a whole other meaning.”
Kalyna: “I know, babe. I forgive you. Besides, always know I can whoop your ass when civility is not in the cards.” She gave him a sassy wink, and in response he grabbed her hand and kissed the top of it. ”Olek, forgive my boyfriend! Or I'll whoop your ass too!”
Olek: He gave a yielding chuckle, “It's all good. I know what you're going through so no hard feelings."
Kalyna: “Now that all the kiss-and-make-up is over, can we see where we get to, and if it gets too dark and we're still far away, lets camp. I brought the stuff anyways. I always keep it in my car. You'll never, EVER find me unprepared. When I say 'pack light' I mean 'pack concisely'.
Olek: “Yeah. Not to mention you have all of your tools in here with random boxes of scrap-metal. Are these the same that were stacked in the living room?”
Kalyna: “No, that's pretty much what I keep in my car at all times.
Laurent: “Ummm.... but why?”
Kalyna: “Well... in case the world ends I guess.” She sarcastically shook her head in disapproval, ”F&$*ing imbeciles.” She reassured the joke with a grin.
They made their way south down the Northway toward the City, and were now about 12 hours away, but that was an extremely rough estimate. It could take another day for all they knew, and they were only a quarter of a tank full. They agreed to make camp and got off at the next exit, Schroon Lake.
The North Country was spared for the most part. They were not the only ones with the same idea to go camping. Other cars were parked at the trail head. You decide to make camp up the mountain a little bit, but still able to see the road. You saw other campers with fires ready. As you walked by one site, the denizens invited you to join their area. There was plenty of room for one more tent, and the fire could be shared. Not to mention the new company. Kalyna is always a friend first and a stranger second. The invitation was heart-warming.
They made introductions. Most of the people at the site seemed to be in their mid to late 20's, with two older gentlemen in the group, both with beards but one is of a heavier build than the other. Including the three from Kalyna's party, there are 11 people total staying on the site.
Richard: “Glad you guys joined us. It isn't worth it making your way further up the mountain. It's getting a little too dark and we have plenty of space. Where are you coming from, anyways?”
Kalyna: “Further north. From Quebec City. We are, of course, trying to get to NYC. Seems to be the thing to do lately.”
Richard: “Yeah, it's a growing trend, right? The cool thing to do would be to go back north.” They both laughed together, and Olek couldn't help but notice Laurent's discomfort. The slight argument that occurred earlier was still fresh and not helping his jealousy.
Kalyna: “You take me for a hipster?” she smiled. ”I have no trouble walking a beaten trail. It's fun to stray sometimes, though.”
Everything she was saying translated into something completely different to Laurent. She finally caught on to his disapproving body-language.
Kalyna: “Well. I guess it's getting pretty late. But it was great to meet you guys during times like these. I hope people can retain these common decencies for the time to come. I can't help but think the blasts are only the beginning.”
Richard: “Damn. That's deep, K. Well hey, there's plenty of room in the camper. You guys don't have to sleep in your tents.”
Laurent burned on the inside when he called her 'K'. Then he asked for them to stay in the same sleeping area, which irritated Laurent even more.
Laurent: (French) “Kalyna. We're staying in the tent. We're going to bed. Now.”
The Americans do not know French, but his attitude had shown through clear enough.
Richard: “I uh... I didn't mean to trigger anything. Just weird times now and I guess I can be a little too friendly under stress.”
Kalyna: “No, no. You're fine, Richard. It's kind of funny. We now we all have something we can blame our problems on. 'That f%+*ing meteor!'. It's like a president, or the economy. Or day-light savings time.”
The group laughed, and Laurent even managed to squeeze out a chuckle. Her friendly personality was often mistaken for flirting by many a boyfriend, but Laurent was usually docile toward these situations. He simply was not himself today.
Olek decided to take advantage of Richard's offer and slept in the camper. He figured he'd give his sister and her boyfriend some alone time. Inside the tent, Kalyna and Laurent immediately began to argue.
Kalyna: (French) “I'm not a violent person, but I'm so ready to beat the crap out of you right now. How dare you embarrass me like that in front of people?! Or even one on one!? What the hell has gotten into you today!? We're all suffering, so stop making me an enemy.”
Laurent: (French) “Do you think I'm blind, Kalyna? You acted so into him! How can I just ignore that?”
Kalyna: (French) “You know, I can connect with people on a platonic level. You can be friendly with people for multiple reasons, not just sexual interest. This is not you. I told you from the beginning, 'I-Do-Not-Put-Up-With-This-S%!#'.”
Laurent: (French) “You're right... you're right, you're right, you're right. I'm... g#$ d&%mit, I don't know. I think the shock is wearing off or something... I'm actually encountering the thought that half the people in the world just died. Out of all the people I have met in my life, that's half of them dead right there, and I have no clue who.”
Kalyna: (French) “Babe, that's terrible use of statistics... You have a biased sample-size.”
Laurent: (French) “What?”
Kalyna: (French) “I'm not being insensitive. Look, most of the people you know live in Quebec City. Well, our city did not get hit. If everyone you knew was equally distributed throughout the world, then you'd be closer to correct... but still wrong. So don't let the thought of half the people you know dying turn you into an a+#*+#*, because it's simply not true.”
Laurent: He started to smile more, ”I hate you and your brain. Remind me to eat it when you get bored with it.”
Kalyna: She laughed, ”Oh are you a zombie-boyfriend now?” She began playfully clawing and biting toward him. And one thing lead to another....
Peter: “I couldn't tell you honestly. He's been very reclusive with a lot of things here. You'd think being the lead scientist, he'd let us in on what he's finding so we could all do our jobs better.”
You notice something caught Peter's attention. You look into the containment chamber to see what he was looking at. Dr. Marx is just standing on the rubble, staring at the meteorite. He starts to move closer toward it. You notice he left his tools at the bottom of the rubble .
Peter: “Oh now what is he doing?” Peter picks up a headset on the desk and presses the intercom button. ”Dr. Marx. You forgot your sampling tools.”
After a short delay, Harper responds...
Harper: “It is fine. I'm just having a look.”
Dr. Marx begins touching the meteorite. It still was glowing, despite it being three weeks since its landing.
Harper: “It's quite cool, actually. The light it's emitting does not seem to be radiating any heat...”
Peter: “Dr. Marx, can I please advise you not to touch the meteorite without tools?”
Harper: “If you haven't noticed, child, none of our tools seem to be detecting anything. So I'm going to observe the old fashioned way.” He continues to feel around the meteorite, slowly walking around its perimeter. ”What elemental signatures did we find from last night's test?
Harper: “Let begin some basic tests then. Lets try to determine its state changes, pH, hardness... if our latest tech can't detect its energy, we'll use more traditional methods to observe it more physically.” He stops again in front of the meteorite and stares at it as if in awe. ”What are you?”
Peter: “Dr. Marx, who is that you're talking to?”
Harper: “What.... who... Who are you?”
Peter turns his attention toward you.
Peter: “What the hell is he saying?”
Harper: “I see.... I see now.... I...” Harper collapses to his knees and rolls down the rubble.
Peter: “S@**!” Peter races for the chamber, rapidly putting on a hazmat suit.
The chamber door opens after the quarantine door shuts. Many of the other scientist move to the windows that lead into the chamber to see what happened. You remain on the intercom.
Peter: “Grandpa, are you okay? Are you getting light-headed again?” Peter is about 20ft away.
Harper: “I'm... I'm fine. It's just... a lot to adjust to. It's much heavier here...”
Peter: “What? Grandpa, what are you talking about?”
Harper: “So... squishy. I feel... like I'm spilling.” He freezes in place and stares intensely at Peter.
Peter: “Grandpa... Dr. Marx... lets get you inside. Ugh, and look; your helmet isn't even sealed...” Peter approaches Harper. Before he gets close enough, Harper begins to speak, but in a very unfamiliar voice. Like that of one speaking in a stadium, but without any knowledge of how to use vocal cords or other parts necessary for conducting speech.
Harper: “Grains of souls. Like sand on the edge of the universe...” He moves forward toward Peter.
You could not believe what you were seeing, but it almost seemed like Harper wasn't touching the ground when he moved.
Peter: “You're talking nonsense. Why the hell didn't you have your helmet sealed? We need to get you to the infirmary, immediately. Miss Stubins, throw on a hazmat suit and give me a hand real quick.”
Harper: “All we do... all we do.... lets... lets make...”
Peter: “What? Make what? What are you talking about?”
In a weird moment of some coherence, Harper beckoned Peter closer with a motion of his figure.
Harper: Whispering closely, ”... a god.”
“If you haven't noticed, child, none of our tools seem to be detecting anything. So I'm going to observe the old fashioned way.” He continues to feel around the meteorite, slowly walking around its perimeter. ”What elemental signatures did we find from last night's test?"
"Reports found that [jargon]-[jargon]-[jargon]..."
“Let begin some basic tests then. Lets try to determine its state changes, pH, hardness... if our latest tech can't detect its energy, we'll use more traditional methods to observe it more physically.”
"O my God! What's gotten into him?" Her voice was thick with apprehension. She moves to the glass separating the subject from her lab quarters and watches the scene unfold fearfully.
When Peter dashes for his hazmat suit, Gwen swiftly moves to block his path. "You're not seriously thinking of going in there!? Peter? Are you!?" His only response was a determined glare. It was enough for her to take a step back and let him do what he must. She resolved to man the intercom and watch remotely as the leading scientists exposed themselves to the greatest scientific mystery of the century.
Fear crept up her spine on crab legs. Stunned, she watched on...
"Miss Stubins, throw on a hazmat suit and give me a hand real quick.”
Though it took some effort, Gwen jams her skinny legs into a hazmat suit with a well practiced motion and makes for the gateway to join the Harpers and the subject.
"Is he alright? Why in hell did you feel the need to touch it, Doctor?"
You and Peter try lifting him to his feet.
Peter: "I'm not sure he's responsive, Gwen. Look at his pupils. They're all... what's this?"
He looks closer into Dr. Marx's eyes, squinting as if to focus on them. In that moment...
Peter: "This... Okay. We cannot bring him back inside. Look, look at his-"
Dr. Marx's neck stiffens up, his teeth grinning as far as they will go. It's as if someone had squeezed his bottom half to cause his upper half to explode. His veins began popping all over his face and neck. His head rapidly tilts toward the floor. He begins vomiting blood all inside his helmet, violently. He screams as if in agonizing pain.
Dr. Marx: "GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!"
Peter: "Lets get his helmet off! Quickly!"
As Peter lets go on his right arm (you're holding the left) and removes the helmet, Dr. Marx became surprisingly alert. You were slightly behind him, but his head seemed to rotate around much more than a human normally could. He stared right at you, and for a fraction of a second, you caught a glimpse of what Peter was referring to. His eyes appeared black with a feint hint of violet. Not glowing like the meteorite, but not unlike its color. But as soon as that fraction of second was over, you realized you were flying through the air, toward the meteorite, crashing into the box of tools, scattering them on the ground. You quickly gather your bearing, ignoring the pain your back was feeling from the force of the throw. How you were thrown exactly is a mystery to you.
You look over at Peter and Harper...
Peter: "Grandpa! Grandpa, what are you doing!" Peter begins floating in midair. The other scientist outside the chamber begin to scramble, engaging in emergency protocols though they had none for a situation like this. Some begin to suit up in hazmats, but it is too late. Peter's arm seemed to extend itself to Dr. Marx's mouth.
Dr. Marx: "All we are.... is energy. The substance of god. And we will return to such a state."
Peter: "Oh my god... Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god... I'm going to die, no no no I DON'T WANT TO DIE!!!"
Dr. Marx casually begins gnawing on Peter's arm.
Peter: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRHHH! NOOOOOOO!!! GWEN!! GWEEEEEEEEEEEN!!!"
You search your surroundings in a panic. The obvious solution came to sight. A titanium scalpel was within reach. The consequences would have to come as they may...
Your adrenaline was at levels beyond what you have ever felt before. Beyond the anxiety you get when writing your dissertation, beyond the fear you felt when you got in that severe car accident as an undergrad... simply beyond anything. The very laws of nature are being defied before your eyes, and you find your brain is having trouble processing everything. Having few options to choose from, you reach for the scalpel that rest on the dusty Earth, and charge as fast as your body would allow toward Dr. Marx. The first puncture felt completely foreign and filled with guilt. But the series of stabbings that followed felt easier and easier, knowing that whatever the doctor was is certainly no more. You stab him three times in the back, and after he turns to engage you, dropping Peter from his telekinetic grasp in the process, you stab him five more times in the chest, feeling the blade pierce his vital organs. He emitted a screech unlike anything you have ever heard; a noise created beyond the capabilities of normal vocal cords. Your scalpel became stuck from suction, and as Dr. Marx fell to the ground, you fell with him. Unconvinced he was dead, you stab him four more times. You couldn't hear it during the fight, but when you reacquire your bearing, you realize Peter was screaming the whole time, and as soon as the last puncture was dealt on Harper, the other scientist were already tending to Peter. Two other scientist approach you and help you to your feet. You struggle to understand what they are saying, as most of your hearing seems muffled.
"I think she's in shock.."
"Get them in the helicopter! We'll take them to the City."
You start to "come to" in the helicopter. Peter laid next to you on a stretcher and another scientist, Dr. Daniels, sat next to you with his arm around you.
Dr. Daniels: "Gwen, how are you feeling? We're almost at the hospital, we'll get Peter taken care of." He looks at Peter, and then looks back at you; clearly playing with thoughts in his head. "Listen: I don't think it is wise to have you be placed in jail. You've proven too valuable to this cause and we can't let impractical laws get in the way of handling this catastrophe. Peter knows this. When you were in shock, it was actually his idea to take the blame for it, that way there's a chance he'll get away with acting in defense, being the one more severely wounded. We can't compromise our mission, Gwen. Please, let Peter do this. We all know you did the right thing. There was no telling what was going to happen... we've never seen anything like that before."
Your attention turns to the other end of the helicopter, where you see another body covered in a bloody blanket. The sight of the red made your heart pump faster, and your breathing heavier; recollecting on what you have done. For the first time in your life, you killed a man. A brilliant man at that. Dr. Marx would have wanted the nature of his demise to be investigated.
Esteban: "Her story seems to clear. Not like we have room for her in the cells anyway."
Jack: "Cuff her."
Esteban: "Woh, what? How come?"
Jack: "HQ phoned in with more than one eyewitness saying Gwen stabbed Harper in retaliation for him attacking his grandson. She is now a primary suspect."
Esteban: "You can't be serious, holmes? We're completely flooded in the cells."
Cosic: "Then throw her in the big one. We still got a job to do. And it's Jack, Cosic, or Detective. Not 'holmes'."
Esteban: "She'll be torn apart in there. May as well throw her in a lion's den."
Cosic: "She's guilty. End of story."
Leaving no more room for argument, Esteban reenters the room and places
Gwen Stubins under arrest. Peter tried to argue, but it was in vain. As you escort Gwen back down the hallway, you are unexpectedly stopped by the tattooed female you saw earlier in one of the rooms.
Tattooed female: "Hey! Excuse me! Officers!"
She spoke english well enough, but there is definitely an accent.
Cosic: "We're in the middle of an arrest kid. We don't have time to idly chat."
Tattooed female: "Um, excuse me? This girl is the least threatening person I've ever seen, so I doubt she's taking off on you. No offense, sweety. But you're too damn cute for your own good. So please, given the current state we're in, you can spare a couple minutes."
Admiring her gumption, you allow her some of your time.
Cosic: "Alright, kid. Make it quick."
Tattooed female: "Well, detective, I'm not one to be rushed, but thankfully, my questions are naturally quick. My father was mugged outside of his home in Long Island. Some strangers helped him to the hospital, where he was treated and then called the police. The police basically told him to F.O.D. My father was stabbed and the cops said they couldn't do anything about it! Look, I know some s@#$ has gone down, but that is when order and law must be its strongest. How can the police force so callously ignore the citizens they are sworn to protect? They may as well murder innocent people if they aren't going to protect them from those who would."
Esteban: "Move it, punta. We don't have time for this s*+!!"
You see her fill with rage that is barely being contained with every ounce of her willpower. She wasn't about to start beating up cops. Despite her attitude, you respected her convictions. As for Esteban, you were feeling very annoyed and disgusted with his language toward the lady.
Cosic: "Go bring Miss Stubins to the f~++ing car, and watch your f*#~ing language in front of the lady."
Esteban escorts Gwen to the car, while you continue to entertain this woman's questions.
Cosic: "Forgive my partner. He's not one for courtesy."
Tattooed female: "And neither are you, I can tell! Thanks for getting rid of him. My names Kalyna, but most call me Rose. So look, I know s*+&'s crazy. But can you do a solid and just look into it?"
Cosic: "Look, kid. I'll take some basic information, but I will make no promises. Things are crazier than you think. Much crazier. We're in a downward spiral toward anarchy, and it happened in a matter of weeks. I'm not saying your father being stabbed is a petty crime, but our biggest concerns are keeping gangs from taking over the city."
She releases a saddened, heavy sigh.
Kalyna: "I suppose times are just different now... What kind of information will you need?"
Cosic: "Someone will have to come down to P.D. and file a formal charge. You got time? We need to make one more stop before we get there. Shouldn't take too long if nothing holds us up."
She had a mild look of worried hesitation on her face, but in the end, she agreed to go.
Kalyna: "Yeah. Yeah, I can go. Just let me say bye right quick."
Between the solemn silence coming from the scientist, the animosity between Kalyna and Esteban, and your functional-sociopathic dispostion, the car ride was quite awkward. Kalyna seemed to always need to fill the air with conversation, when normally you would prefer silence. But you admired some of the things she had to say. Esteban grew increasingly annoyed with every word that came out of her mouth.
You finally arrived at the morgue, which was a surprise to Kalyna. You ordered Gwen to come with you, and Kalyna came just out of interest, claiming she had never been to a morgue before. The area is hot with gang activity, so you and Esteban lose your ties to look more casual. As soon as you parked, you could see an encounter between two gangs begin to boil, but you assumed it would be talked out and nothing would happen. With that, the four of you continued into the morgue.
Barren. The place was completely barren. The main hall was lined with doors leading to other rooms. Recalling other times you have been here, you remember the “fridge” is located further down the hallway and to the left. It didn’t feel right though. No one was walking around, no receptionist. Some decorations, papers, and other items seemed to have been heavily misplaced or destroyed, as if everyone left in a panic. But then you really began to worry when you saw blood at the end of the hall. You immediately pull out your gun.
Cosic: “Esteban. Take Kalyna and Gwen back to the car, then meet me back here.”
Esteban: “We can’t just leave our prisoner alone with a stranger! This is ridiculous! We need to call it in.”
Cosic: “And who exactly are we going to call? Go ahead and try, they’ll tell us to just ‘figure it out’. The big dogs are occupied.”
Esteban: “This is loco, Jack.”
Kalyna: “Hey don’t rule me out! I’m plenty useful. I got a pre-med and an engineering degree. Plus, I’m from the Ukraine, which should be enough credentials. Make me an honorary deputy!”
Cosic: “Get back in the car, or I’ll completely forget about your father’s case. Move. And you better stand down, Ramirez. You take orders from me or you turn in your gun and badge.”
Esetban: “You know what, ese? How about I do that? Working with you has been hell. I shouldn’t even bother doing my job because it’s not like I’ve been getting paid for the past two weeks anyways. Dealing with you is not worth working for free. Go f~!@ yourself, punta.”
Cosic: “Then give me your gun and badge. I thought you were a cop. Not a mercenary.”
Esteban mutters some nonsensical words in spanish and makes his way out the door, but not without glaring at Kalyna.
Cosic: “Can you use one of these?”
Kalyna: “F+#@ yeah I can. I’m not a bad shot either.”
Cosic: “I’m breaking rules here, so you do as I say. You’re an honorary deputy.”
Kalyna: “You won’t be disappointed. But I have to warn you, I’m a cowboy.”
Cosic: “This will work out fine, then.”
Kalyna: “What about Miss Stubins?”
You toss her the keys.
Cosic: “Go grab her. We can’t leave her unattended. Meet me back here.”
Kalyna leaves the morgue to grab Gwen. As soon as she does, you feel like you heard voices toward the end of the hall. Without wait for her, you begin to advance…
Ccccrrrrrlyyyyyyyzooooooooliiithhhhh…..rrrrl-kah…..cccrrrrrlyyyyyyyzooooooo oliiithhhhh…
Cosic: “The f~~+?”
At the end of the hall, you peer around the corner to the left where you heard the noise. The blood trail also guided you in that direction. In the “fridge” room, a light struggled to stay lit. You approach the door quietly; worrying that Kalyna would be less quiet when she entered. You sneak a peek into the room through the glass window in the door, but as soon as you look the lights went out. After a few seconds, the lights kick back on again, revealing a terrifying and deformed face staring at you and gnawing at the glass. It appeared seemingly out of nowhere, forcing your heart to skip a beat and your skin to perspire abundantly. Seldom do you feel fear. But this…. This did not seem natural. This person’s skin was a rotting grey, like old raw hamburger beef that has been sitting out in the sun. Its jaw gaped open further than humanly possible, as if the pain had no limitation on how far its mouth open. Skin began to tare at the sides of its mouth. From what you could tell, this person is a male, but given the state of the body, you have no idea what age. Gathering your bearing, and now comfortable with the fact that it hasn’t opened the door yet, you peer beyond the deformed person. Inside the fridge, there were piles of bodies. Some moving, and some not. You didn’t get an accurate count, but it seemed somewhere in the thirties. As you tried to get a better look, you heard another voice…
Unknown person: “Please…. ::heavy breathing::… stay back from them. ::cough:cough:: They’re workers here.... but some.. :;cough::… some are….”
Cosic: “Some are what?! What the f%@& is going on here!?”
Unknown person: “Stop, stop stop… please, stop yelling…::heavy breathing:: there could be more…. I trapped however many I could in that room…”
Cosic: “I’ll ask you again. What are they!?”
Unknown person: “Some are… ::heavy breathing::…. Cadavers….”
Cosic: “Shut your mouth. Impossible. Why are they acting this way!? What the f%*@ is going on here!?”
Unknown person: “You REALLY need to ::cough:: quiet down…. I ::cough::…” He coughs up some blood.
Cosic: “Get up. I’m taking you to the hospital.”
As you go to approach the man, Kalyna and Gwen arrive. Kalyna hears the noises coming from the room and peers inside, abruptly stepping backwards in shock.
Kalyna: (Slavic)”My stars…” (English) “What is going on with them? Their eyes… they’re so… dark.” Turning her attention toward the mortician. ”Hey. Hey! Seriously, what the f~+! is happening here!? They’re acting like they’re on bath salts or have rabies or some s@&*.”
The man laughs: Unknown person: “No… no no. Not necessarily…” The man sits on the ground up against the wall and slowly turns his attention toward Gwen. She nearly faints, but luckily Kalyna was close by to catch her fall.
Gwen: “Nooo!! What!?!?!? Stop it, we need to get out of here we need to kill him!!!!! He’s not supposed to be here!!!!”
After hearing Gwen freak out, you observe the mortician more clearly. He did look familiar, but you couldn’t pinpoint where.
Gwen: “NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!” She tries to grab the gun out of Kalyna’s hand, but Kalyna pushed her aside. With a wave of the mortician’s hand, Jack is flung backwards against the door, nearly opening it. With another wave, Gwen’s handcuffs are unlocked and drop to the ground.
Gwen: “You don’t understand! This is Harper Marx! He isn’t what he seems! Do it! Do it noooow! Shoot him!”
Kalyna nervously points the gun at Harper, still confused as to what just happened. The supernatural became natural, and to her pragmatic mind, anything was possible. She did not know whether to be amazed or scared. She chose the latter.
Kalyna: “Don’t you f$#+ing move! Stay right where you are! Jack, are you good?”
Cosic: “I’m fine! You! Harper Marx! On your f~!$ing feet and keep your hands where I can see them!”
He releases another chuckle…
Harper: “Come, Gwen. You must come with me.”
Cosic: “I said on your feet! If you raise a hand or do anything other than what I say, I’ll unload on ya!”
Gwen: “It wouldn’t matter….. He wouldn’t die…. He just… wouldn’t die….”
Harper: “The same could be for you, human. You wouldn’t be like the rabid beast in that room. You’d be powerful beyond your imagination. Your physical form would be a gradually deteriorating boundary for your potential. The flesh… the flesh is primitive to life. True-life… oh ho ho…” He lets out a manic laugh. ”True-life… is beyond this. And whether you know it or not… you’re already on your way there…”
With her curiosity peaked… Gwen: “….what are you talking about?”
Cosic: “Can it, you rotting maggot, you’re under arrest! Now on your…”
Jack is interrupted when Harper raises his hand and opens the door. The light went out a little while ago. It only creaked open slightly; the anticipation of what would emerge caused your adrenaline to skyrocket.
Harper: “Imagine…. A world… that responds to your every demand. An entire people…. Civilization on a string… with you unattached. ‘Humans’ and…. Others… all seem to cling to their own imprisonment. Now… your world will become what it truly-“
Jack unloads his gun into Harper’s chest and throat. But that also drew the attention of the rabid people inside the room. He quickly changes mags and grabs Gwen by the arm.
Cosic: “Lets move. NOW!”
Kalyna was frozen with fear, but quickly shook it off when she saw a bloody hand reach outside the door of the room. The three of you darted for the exit, but with no means of locking it.
Cosic: “It seems your story has changed, Gwen.”
Gwen: “So it has…”
Cosic: “I think I need to talk to the big dogs.”
As you three get into the car, there were about a dozen of dead bodies on the street. You have no idea how you didn’t hear gun shots or commotion, but it seems that gang confrontation did erupt. The area was mostly empty, and no ambulances in sight. Severed heads from the losing team were staked on street signs, like a lime on a gin and tonic glass. One of the heads was from a different team. You recognized him as Ramirez.
There goes another one, Jack... You've lost your job for sure...
As Kalyna and Gwen get in the car, you get a call from HQ. They say the hospital has been overrun by gangs. But they also said patients were attacking people too. You weren’t sure how to break it to Kalyna. She was too hot-headed to take it lightly. But you knew you’d have to tell her that her family could be in danger.
The world changed overnight, and the Underworld emerged. You thought about what Harper said, but couldn't finish, in the morgue before you dished him a lead salad.
Now… your world will become what it truly is…
The following information is derived from the manuscripts of the self-proclaimed first historian since the Distopic Age (synonyms include "The New Age", "The Age of Cryzoloth", and "The Age of Regression"). A gentleman with compassion for humanity, though quite egotistical, Dr. Haraldr Davis possesses a zealous urge to preserve its history. Copies of his journals can be found throughout the waste; containing reminders for those living in the New Age of a time past, and hopes to being there again.
Haraldr Davis: "This is an account of a particular time in the history of the Distopic Age. Near the beginning, about four weeks post-Planetfall, dated September 11th, 2013 => May 6th, 2014. The true causality of Cryzoloth's arrival was becoming understood. Significant changes to society occurred very rapidly, and the changes were truly unforgiving. It is similar to uprooting a plant and replanting it in different soil. It causes great stress; not unlike the poor young men sent to war, submerged in an environment with devouring violence only to be returned to a place of civility and peace. Humanity underwent a transplant. The socioscape shifted paradigms. The very idea of government became a joke, as if obeying the law just was not practical to survival. A great awakening occurred, in the sense that the populace no longer blindly obeyed authority figures. A whole new world became available to them - unrestricted. The human race, being a practical species, decided their nations could no longer offer protection in the realm of Armageddon, so they turned to their own authority, and of course - instincts, for guidance. It still overwhelms me with wonder when I ponder the weapon that is "support"; the will of the people that truly give government power. It can be quite destructive. The very fact that nations had no people to support their laws, or just to even recognize their government as an entity, led to anarchy in a matter of days.
So as a result, the union of humanity began to separate. Societies became more akin to tribes, factions, and even small city states, but to call any type of community a nation (or civilized for that matter), would be fallacious in magnitudes. In addition to stationary congealed communities, other forms of society appeared. Nomads are probably the most common path people have taken. Because the majority of the people pre-Planetfall lack leadership skills or the abilities to work together to build communities, the majority of people post-Planetfall resort to scavenging and migrating. People that do not have skills in farming, construction, leadership, electrical, etc. are the ones found traveling the waste hopping from settlement to settlement to take what they can. This is not to say all nomads take advantage of people, but they are certainly opportunist. Some communities of scavengers exist and are very dangerous. Infested with consuming anxiety and stress from the environment of the new world, these groups resort to very desperate measures to survive. These effects are seen late during this section of time, around areas where settlements have been completely scavenged and no other food is accessible.
As you can see, the paradigm of civilized society completely shifted. The most successful communities are ones controlled by large gangs. The underworld had surfaced, simultaneously as the reptilian part of humanity's brain received more focus. I was truly lucky to have survived this period, as many brushes with death occurred. The nomadic group I traveled with ensured my survival, and if it were not for them, this manifesto would never be written. This time period (approximately eight months since Planetfall), I call "Rising of the Abyss". However, it is more commonly known as "Othello's Reign". A powerful leader achieved control of most of the gangs in the city (New York City), and with their "fealty", he built a fortified community to live in among the Horde. However, near the middle of his reign he became corrupt and sadistic, but not..."
May 2nd, 2014. 10:03am. "Othello's Reign"
Synopsis of the eight months for the party in particular: The hospital was overrun by the Horde. The dead began to rise and devour the living. Due to New York City's spike in murder rate, there were plenty of bodies for the "cryzo'd" Dr. Marx to reanimate with the strange energy brought by Cryzoloth. Simultaneously, an enormous war for the streets took place. Apparently this situation was brewing in the underground, but now with the police force and the military being a shadow of its former self, the Street Wars began, and there was open war. Unfortunately for Kalyna, her family and her boyfriend were killed by a gang that sought control over the hospital. She had her first kill that day. Shot one of the gang members straight between the eyes after she beat him to an incapacitated pulp. She now became a target, leaving you needing to defend her and yourself in order to escape the hospital. Gwen is virtually useless and in your mind she is still a prisoner, despite the voice in the back of your head saying Give her a gun, Jack... the Rule of Common Enemies applies... You escaped the hospital, and some of the major fighting in your area began to settle. Once outside, you were approached by another gang; enemies of the one that attempted to take the hospital. They were grateful and also impressed that two people fought their way out against 20 or so baddies, and so they extended an invitation for us to join their gang. We declined, and instead Jack took us to his apartment. You knew P.D. would be overrun, and not to mention the things from the morgue entered the streets. For three months, we all watched and waited while the Street Wars slowly fought for the city. It was a war between factions of gangs, the police and national guard, and the Horde against everyone. For us, we have our own faction. We stuck together for survival, but being forced to live with each other has created a strong sense of protection over each other. The thought of the world population being divided in nearly two created a looming sense of loneliness. Even for your cold-heart, you found comfort in the company of Kalyna and Gwen. Over the next three months, your apartment complex began to form a little community of its own. You begin associating more with your neighbors on a daily basis, a stark contrast compared to your previous life. By nature, you know how to take control of a situation. Humans tend to cling to people such as yourself for advice, and therefore by nature, you have been more and more relied upon for leadership. Many of residents are middle-aged or older, seeing as old people seldom leave the house, thus avoiding the conflict. As for Kalyna and Gwen, they naturalized as your "officers". They are experts that you rely upon for wisdom and aid in decision making, and the people of the complex also recognize them as authority figures.
Also around this time, the Street Wars began to fizzle. The police and the national guard dissipated, and the only enemies left were rival gangs and the Horde. Having the need for leadership, the common-folk began recognizing gains as entities of authority and sought their protection, seeing as they have the best means of combating the Horde. This occurred for about a month, leaving the last two months of this period for Othello's Reign.
Othello is the name of the gang leader of the Ghost-Faced Killers. It is said that they were formed by a group of marines who's battalion name was called the same. With proper training and better weaponry, they took the streets and had most gangs swearing fealty to them. The first month of his reign was more organized and peaceful, placing a strong emphasis on combating the Horde instead of each other. However, he had no qualms about sending out raiding parties to gather supplies. This conflicted with many peoples' interests, but Othello knew it was necessary in order to survive. It wasn't until the beginning of April when he started turning his attention toward the other people in the city. He began threatening groups with neglecting their protection against the Horde and revoking their rights to the supplies they acquire from their raids. In return, he wanted their enlistment and their oaths, allowing any disagreement with Othello's will to be punishable with sanctions or even execution. He was kind enough to send messengers to the people, stating his initiation of a draft. It also stated that if any community wished to secede from the Chromatic Union (as in, a union of "gang colors"), they had to leave the city. There was a two week time-limit for decisions, and today, March 2nd, Othello was sending out messengers.
You and Kalyna sit at your table in your tiny kitchen, sipping on cold-brewed coffee while trying to ignore the ripe stink of being without shower for a week. She tinkered with some electrical stuff on the table, hoping to make a radio out of it. You didn't bother asking her about it, because you know you wouldn't understand it anyway. Gwen was up on the roof, tending to the small garden you managed to organize. You wanted to ask her again what she thinks about Othello's new draft, but you know it would never change: "Given our lives now... it would just be smart to join the C.U.. Going independent is just as good as going rogue. We'd only create competitors for ourselves; powerful ones at that. No, I think it is best we stay with the C.U.. Even if it means some personal freedoms. At least we will have supplies and protection while we try to build our lives."
You disagreed with one part: "Our lives... it simply wouldn't be that..."
Kalyna made her thoughts very well known. You cringed at the idea of bringing the matter up again: "You know what I think? I think we can have what Othello has if we truly wanted it... We got a good thing going here. Our garden is growing, I'm almost done working on our water system, and some of our own scavengers are out looking for a generator as we speak. So why does Othello get to make the decisions? Why is he the leader of the C.U.? Because he believes it. That man is a leader, no question, and he's too good at it. I say, 'so are we'. This lot here in this building? Submissive sheep! They are ruled because they want to be. Lets take the leadership for ourselves, and rebuild something we all miss. Peace and civility. You won't get that with Othello in command. He's a despot and he's convinced he's doing the right thing. Going on raiding parties to suburbs, robbing what he calls "tribals". It isn't right. And now, he's forcing us into a draft at the expense of food and protection? With the threat of execution if we don't leave should we refuse? I think the very motion is begging for dissent, so we should respond according."
There was sense and an undeniable spirit in her reasoning, but you couldn't help but find disagreement with her as well: "What about the lives at stake? The casualties would be too much... his forces are to organized and trained. We'd be slaughtered..."
Kalyna interrupted your thoughts.
Kalyna: "Give anymore thought to the draft? A messenger is supposed to come at noon. You know how I feel but... well, you know how I feel."
She reverted to silence, waiting to see if you had anything new to say.
EDIT: You now have in your possession two guns - a revolver and the one you've always had. Kalyna still has the gun that you gave to her. Gwen still does not have a gun. You wanted to go dual-gun, right?
Also, the gang that raided the hospital is called the Rakes. The gang that is friendly toward you is called the Coven and individuals within the gang are refered to as witches and warlocks (female/male). They're rasta, voodoo types, similar to the gang in Predator 2, but maybe less driven by sadism.
Further notes.... (I'm so very sorry)
Status of Dr. Marx: His location is unknown at this time. His risen Horde drove the people into hiding or evacuating the city. As far as you know, your lead salad did the trick in killing him, but we have our doubts considering he survived 12 stabs with a scalpel.
Status of Coeus Institute: You have no clue as to the status of the C-lab located in New Jersey. Not many travelers coming into the city these days to spread any news.
Status of the world: All there is is speculation and hearsay. Many radio and cell towers were destroyed in the blasts so little knowledge outside the city is known.
Some cultural developments: People still cling to life before Planetfall but there are many that have quickly adapted to the New World. Such individuals have found cultural expectations are no longer a priority when it comes to survival. During this time, the word "tacky" is developing a new meaning, and it'll only get weirder as time goes on. This is my excuse for the aesthetic aspects of the game I'd like to see.
”Way I see it,” Cosic starts after a heavy sigh, ”Leaving where we are isn’t an option. It’s far from perfect but what we have here is a foothold; something to build on. Fortify and expand. It’s safer to stick with the C.U… for now, at least.”
He chokes down a gulp of coffee; it was as bitter as it was cold but it was coffee and he kept plenty of it. Surprisingly, Jack’s apartment –save for the bedroom, which he gave to the girls – looked much the same now as it did before Cryzoloth and society’s subsequent collapse. His cupboards had been stocked with cans of tuna and soup, protein bars, whey supplements, oats and coffee. He was, however, getting dangerously low on cigarettes. During the war he lost his taste for fine foods so his diet was based on a function-first priority. There was enough of his stock left to carry the three of them for another two or three months; longer if the garden takes off.
”Part a me thinks that Othello is gonna outright kill off half of the groups who leave,” he finally says after a long break in the conversation. ”The second they leave his protection, they become enemies. He won’t blink at a chance to nip that in the bud. Strike first, save himself the trouble down the road. Even if he keeps his word and lets them go it’d just be postponing the inevitable. If the horde doesn’t catch them, either his gang or another eventually will.”
”A dictatorship is only as bad as the dictator. Ruling with fear works. Sickeningly well, it works. The only reason Othello is in charge is cuz he has more guns than the other colors out there. This draft is him asking permission to wrap his hands around your throat. Everything that follows is him squeezing.”
He looks to the youth sitting across from him as she busies herself in a pile of scattered parts and tools. She had grown substantially over the time they had been together and, after his more base instincts had subsided, he began to look after her and Gwen as if they were his own. Kalyna was a warrior. He knew from watching the sloppy, remorseless beating she gave the Rake back at the hospital that she would flourish in the new world so long as she had the right guidance. When the worst of the riots was over and things began to settle down, he coached her with the heavy bag he had hung up in the living room after ditching the majority of his electronics and impractical furniture. She jumped at the offer and exuberantly welcomed the experience. It has since become routine for them to train almost every morning after the sun broke.
”I know what you’re thinking. A coup, right? He asks his rhetorical question in a hushed whisper, leaning over the table giving her the unnerving stare-down only a cop could manage.
"You're definitely not wrong. None of our choices would be wrong. Unfortunately, every choice we make will have its sacrifices. I definitely think a coup is the way to go. It will not be easy, but in the end, assuming we're on the winning side, our lives will be much better than they are now. There are plenty of colors still loyal to Othello, but there's a small but growing number of people that are tired and scared of living under the rule of gangsters."
She sets her tools down and grabs her cup of coffee, "Odds could still be in our favor yet. You know my buddy, Kojo? He's the guy from the Coven that'll sneak us some luxury goods every now and then. But he's been telling me the Coven is growing more and more pissed off with Othello; saying he's 'lost the path'. They aren't saints, but they aren't tyrants either. I think they just value their freedom but that is now being directly threatened by the GFK. Well, anyways. I know you're stressed about it so I'll keep my trap shut. You've kept us safe this long, so I trust your judgment." Her eyes shift slightly upward, looking at the top of your head, "I need to give you another haircut soon." She directs her attention back to the primordial radio she's constructing.
”I'll need to talk to him. Kojo. Should be easy for you to get him up here tonight. We'll need to know what other gangs share this concern.” He scratches at his beard and roughly pushes his empty cup on the table. Cosic rolls to his feet and goes to the door, he pulls his jacket from the coat rack, tosses it on and starts unlocking the many devices securing his door. ”And I want to know how he's getting past the checkpoints and leaving the secured zone.”
”I'm gonna check morale. You coming or staying?
"Yeah I'm comin'. I've been f+%+in' around with this thing all morning. Gotta stretch my legs. You seen Gwen yet?"
Gwen... The little bird. She's not handling this too good and I'm hardly fit to baby her.
He takes his time with the last lock before answering. ”Not yet. You?
"Nope. Not since we woke up. She went right to the roof. She's really trying to expand the garden. I think she's thinking of squaring away a meeting with Othello to try and get some things brought in from a supply run. She wants lumber, some 50 gallon barrels, and a s#!~-ton of soil."
Kalyna straps on her thigh gun-holster and her buckled boots and grabs her leather jacket from the bedroom. She quickly checks her clip and sticks another one in her pocket.
"K. Who are we visiting first?"
"Whoever's waiting outside," he replies simply. Cosic raps his fingers on the doorknob impatiently as Kalyna suits herself up for their habitual outing. "Your makeup is fine. Now, if you're ready..."
He opens the door and is instantaneously greeted by a haggard, hog-faced woman wrapped in a soiled bathrobe. "No, Mrs. Davenshire, I haven't seen your cat."
Mrs. Davenshire: "Not that I'd expect you to. It's been three weeks since Mittens got out and you haven't done a damn thing about it! Too busy with your little harlots. What kind of a policeman are you? Your mother would be ashamed to call you her son!"
Jack brushes past her and continues down the hall.
Mrs. Davenshire: "I'm not here about that neither. No, it's those damn hooligans who went and took over the neighborhood! What, don't the police even care anymore? I knew this city was heading downhill but I never thought, in my life, I'd see it get this bad. They don't even cover up their guns! The audacity! Aren't you going to do something about that? It's your job, isn't it? Hmmm?"
Jack bites his lip as he keeps walking.
Mrs. Davenshire: "And if you see the Super, tell him the lights keep going out in my house. And the water isn't working. And my cable's out. And my phone isn't working! I keep calling the 911, since you obviously don't care what's happening to this city, but it never gets through. O, hell! You're like talking to a wall!" Mrs. Davenshire waves her hands in the air dramatically, tightens the ties on her bathrobe then retires back to her room, cursing this and that along the way.
"Jesus-f~&!ing-Christ..." Cosic sighs when he hears her door slam shut. "I keep waiting for the day my decision to give that woman binoculars finally pays off."
"Someday, someone will tell her that humans started eating each other and gangs stole her sovereignty."
"Lets go see if Gwenny wants to join us. She spends too much time on that roof."
”Yeah, sounds about right.” Cosic agrees simply. The pair makes their way up the stairs in a quiet, orderly fashion but are interrupted at the 3rd bend in the corridor by two teenage boys laughing and racing in the opposite direction.
Steve: “O! Sorry, Jack! Uhh… Didn’t know… Yeah! So, we got another gallon and a half of gas from a camry a block or so from here…”
Paul: “Yup, siphoned it out just like you said. Steve loooooves siphoning gas. I caught him practicing on the hose the other night... He looked really into it.”
Steve: “Shut up, Paulie!” His eyes dart from Paul to Kalyna rapidly before focusing with a glare on his peer. ”You better run cuz I’m gonna kick your ass!!”
As swiftly as they arrived, the boys were gone. Jack had nothing to say about the encounter so he kept his pace as if it never happened. There was no surprise when they finally arrived at the roof. Gwen was pruning her prized tomato plant while a slightly younger boy dragged buckets of water from the rain barrels to her station. The boy, Eli, seemed helpful enough. Jack couldn’t sense any ulterior motive for him to spend most of his days in seclusion with the attractive, blonde scientist. It was his assumption the kid just needed the work; something to keep him from thinking about the world they now lived in and the possibilities of the future.
Eli: “Hey, Gwen. Do you think this water is safe for the plants? Y’know, the asteroids… radiation… zombies… You don’t think this could eventually, like, poison us or something, do you?”
In reference to Steve and Paul...
Kalyna: "I think we intimidate them. Or rather I make them feel funny feelings. I guess I should be flattered."
You enter the roof.
It is a slightly cloudy day with spots of sunlight here and there. There's really no telling what the weather will be like, due to the lack of media. With a proper knowledge check, it can be interpreted.
Eli: “Hey, Gwen. Do you think this water is safe for the plants? Y’know, the asteroids… radiation… zombies… You don’t think this could eventually, like, poison us or something, do you?”
Gwen: "Well, it's really hard to say. People here never thought to question their water source, and so far no one's contracted anything. And the radiation coming from the asteroids: They're oddly inert. Like they don't even exist but we can still see them. Ugh... I can't explain it. I'd have to smother you with lectures on electromagnetic radiation in order to make any sense..."
She continued to till the soil in one of her barrels: a 50 gallon plastic drum that was sawed in half and made into a garden bed. Jack had built her a little lean-to a few months back against the wall of the stairwell extension for her to store her tools, most of which are kitchen-ware.
She hears the door to the stairs shut and turns around...
Gwen: "Oh. Hey guys."
Kalyna: "Gwenny. You spend too much time up here. We're going for a walk."
Kalyna sometimes went too far with Gwen. To her, Gwen is an extremely tense person and a perfectionist. She is very empathetic, and so when Gwen is feeling a certain way, so is she, which causes her to actively try to make Gwen loosen up.
Lucky for Kalyna, Gwen can be quite submissive.
Gwen: With a heavy, surrendering sigh, "I suppose I could use a break. Where are we going?"
A.)Gather information from Kojo down at one of their hangouts. They run a little store outside of a bar where they exchange guns and ammunition for supplies. The bar is called "230 Fifth".
and/or
B.)Arrange a meeting with Othello or one of his agents in order to request some items for the next supply run (e.g. soil, lumber, and seeds).
and/or
C.)Continue with morale assessment and gather information in order to make a decision that concerns the future of your community.
"We're checking the group to see how they're taking Othello's proposal. So far, no ones mentioned it; so I'm guessing the folks we've seen so far are only concerned with their day-to-day lives." He sighs and watches the eerily-shaded clouds slowly advancing on the sun. "Probably the same kind a idiots who think voting is a waste of thier time."
"Eli, you seem like a smart kid. What's your thoughts on Othello?"
Gwen's newfound assistant it is hesitent to speak. He hides his face and continues to bring water. Eli: "Well, ummm... I dunno..."
"Spit it out, kid. Nothing leaves this roof. You got my word."
Eli: "It's suicide, Jack." He blurts out with the relief of long held poo. Eli: "The guy's a psycho! And if we leave our homes we're zombie fodder! It's a miracle we've lasted this long. Start with nothing again? No thanks!"
"It's suicide, Jack." He blurts out with the relief of long held poo. Eli: "The guy's a psycho! And if we leave our homes we're zombie fodder! It's a miracle we've lasted this long. Start with nothing again? No thanks!"
Gwen: "I know it's not ideal, but why fight an enemy we can't win against?"
Kalyna chimes in before Eli can answer...
Kalyna: "If current events aren't reason enough to believe anything is possible, then I don't know what is. Hell, even look at your own history. The American colonist fought an empire because they had an edge. They went rogue; utilized unorthodox warfare. With the right edge, we can beat the C.U. Or replace Othello with a more tolerable leader, like the Coven."
Gwen: "The Coven? I don't think they have the leadership skills to head the C.U. Probably because they smoke too much pot, which I'm amazed at their ability to grow it within the city. The G.F.K. at least have some political sense. There might be good reason for Othello's draft. Maybe... he wants to expand borders? That makes the most sense considering the projected food shortage. Or..." Gwen pauses has she runs other probabilities through her head, "...perhaps he wants to cross the bridge?"
The bridge Gwen is referring to is the bridge to Manhattan. Every salvaging party that has crossed has never returned, but it is supposedly a gold-mine for untouched resources. The last words sent over local radio from the doomed salvaging parties indicate so.
”Hmpf!” Jack grunts ponderously, lighting a cigarette with a precious match. He tosses the smoldering stick over the side of the building and leans back on the ledge, ”Taking the bridge sounds pretty ambitious. It'd definitely make Othello's militia that much more important. So, suppose he raises an army, crosses the bridge and gets those supplies. Who do you think is gonna get the lion's share of the prize?”
He takes a long drag and looks out over the city. ”The men who take the risk will get the better reward. Plain and simple. Anyone not serving in his military will serve his military. Y'know how much it costs to feed an army? I don't know what the man has planned but I haven't heard a word about anything but his ability to lead an army. He's gonna put them first and everyone and everything else is gonna fall to the wayside.”
”Now, could be I'm wrong. Until I meet the man, I can't say for certain what to believe but judging solely on what I've seen and heard: the man is a powerful general. No doubt he'll expand the boarders, he'll be successful against other groups like his, he will make the C.U. something to fear. But – just like you said, Kalyna – history's gonna repeat itself. The people on the bottom will want to be the people on top, eventually. The C.U. Under this kind of rule will burn bright and burn fast, but it's gonna rot from the inside out. That is unless the people get a voice.”
Gwen: "So if you believe the C.U. will just destroy itself, why even fight it? Ride it out until it dies." Gwen starts to gather her tools and hang them up under the lean-to. Eli assists her with the clean up.
Kalyna: "Hey handsome. Mind giving us a second? I'd hate for this conversation to worry your head."
Eli: "Oh, it's okay. I don't mind. I like listening to how you guys solve these problems. I've never really had to care about this stuff until a few months ago. It's a real eye-opener. If you don't mind, I'd like to stay and listen."
Kalyna: "That's sweet of you, handsome. And maybe one day you'll be on council. But this next bit I'm about to say I can't have in anyone else's brain but Mr. Cosic's and Ms. Stubins's. If you want to be a leader someday, you will have to understand why these precautions are necessary."
Eli: "Yeah. I suppose I get it. Well, if there anything I can help with let me know."
Kalyna: "Thanks tuts."
Eli finishes putting the tools away and head back down the stairs.
Gwen: "I'm afraid of what you're going to say next..."
Kalyna: "I think we're going about this all wrong. We need to approach this from all angles. Think of it like chess. We can win with only a few pieces if we strategize. If we have just one ace in the hole, Othello can crumble in one fell swoop with minimal casualties... "
She awaits a response before continuing with her plan...
"So if you believe the C.U. will just destroy itself, why even fight it? Ride it out until it dies."
"Would think you'd learn a thing or two with all the time spent in the garden, Gwen." Jack replies in a cryptic breath of smoke.
Cosic sits back and allows Kalyna to assert her authority. The girl earned his respect months ago; he was completely comfortable with her decision making.
"Yeah. I suppose I get it. Well, if there anything I can help with let me know."
"Thanks, kid. You're doing a good job up here. It's noticed. It's appreciated." He gives Eli a nod, simultaneously conveying "Thank you" and "Get the f&&@ out" then waits silently for Kalyna to continue.
Gwen: "I don't see the logic in fighting them. I'm sorry Kalyna. I want to live my life my way as well, but that includes surviving. If we join them, we increase our chances of surviving." Gwen was starting to show frustration.
Kalyna: "Hear me out, babe. I'm not saying we have to fight anyone. To win against someone without violence, you have to make them an offer they can't refuse."
Gwen: "I'm sorry. What exactly can we offer?"
Kalyna: "We offer him the city. We take it away from him until he steps down from the seat of the C.U. We..." Kalyna pauses and her eyes look upward, as if she was trying to see her thoughts to better understand them, "... we threaten to destroy the five major barricades."
Gwen's mouth drops. She couldn't believe what she just heard.
Gwen: "Okay. You've gone mad. Terrorism, Kalyna!? Really?!" Now Gwen was just getting annoyed.
Kalyna: "I didn't say we'd actually do it! It's a bluff!"
Cosic creases his brow and takes a fiery final pull from his cigarette, tosses the butt off the roof and folds his arms decidedly. Wearing a questioning look, he stands in momentary silence as the girls bicker over Kalyna's proposal.
"Gwen," he says with a note of paternal command. "How bout we let her finish before we pick it all apart, okay?"
He slowly turns his attention back to Kalyna with obvious interest in what she had to say next.