The Council of Resuscita

"And you're sure we can trust this man? After everything he has done to the human race?"

"We have no choice, Donovan. If his information is correct, then there is another wellspring of hope in this world yet. And I am not going to let that slide by."

"...you hopeless old crone."

"Like you're one to talk of old, geezer."

Deep within the bunker of the Council of Resuscita were a pair of old, but politically powerful people - at least, in what passed for government, barely a shell. Both had ascended to their positions at the head of the council in the course of the thirty years since the world went insane.

The wizened crone was Dorothea Sherwyck, the older man was Donovan Akermann. Both were the last of their families, outside of children too young to comprehend the world around them. They were dressed befitting powerful figures - both giving off an aura of authority anyone could pick up on at a glance...

And both knew, they were running out of options.

So when one of the heretofore most loyal warlords to Alpha-Leunis came forward, it was understandable for the more cynical of the Council to rally behind Donovan's perspective, that this was a trap.

Dorothea had her own reasons for believing this was the truth. And she plead her case well.

Both turned to look at an old, worn down and considerably sparking computer. It would take a lot to affect this kind of communication.

And when it turned on, both were looking at a man, dressed entirely in black and blue armor, light red dots visible inside his helmet. This was him - the one who'd come forward.

"Let me tell you a story about four artifacts."

Both Dorothea and Donovan looked at one another at this proclamation, as if both had some inkling already.

Kirkton, New York

The morning sun came up, casting away the shadows of the night and anything that had crawled amidst them.

The town of Kirkton was a place of mixture. Of many different worlds coming together in the midst of calamity, and making something new. And for what it was worth, the people made an effort to make it work.

In one of the outlying houses, a young man began to stir.

This was an old house, two stories and built before the calamity happened. Of course, due to all that happened in the intervening time, it was also one of the most beaten down of the residences. The roof had needed to be repaired so much it was arguable if there was anything remaining of the roof.

The couches and chairs were much abused, one of the chairs playing home to a small fridge full of beers and other alcoholic beverages.

The largest couch was rather blatantly used for some rather intimate pursuits nine times out of ten, and everything else was in similarly shabby conditions.

But as Cole Streiss got up and stretched his arms above his head, he found himself thankful he had a roof over his head at all. He promptly grimaced and rubbed his head. "What did I do last night...?"

He never slept in anything but full gear. Sure it got uncomfortable in Summer, but it was better to be uncomfortable than flatfooted.

Rummaging around on a floor full of used condoms, empty dishes, maps and various ID Cards, Cole eventually found his much abused MP 3 Player. He put the old earphones on and tried to get it started as he headed out.

He checked the mirror and winked at his reflection, "You're a Heartbreak Kid, Cole." He fired off finger guns at himself as he got his jeans, jacket and vest ready.

Cole Streiss was a tall, muscular and thin young man, light brown hair fading to blond near the tips, light blue eyes. He was muscular in the same way a runner or swimmer was, and that suited him just fine. He adjusted a denim jacket, quite beaten up, a zipped up tight vest over a black sleeveless shirt tight on him, tight jeans, and boots.

Sticking his MP 3 on his belt, he tried to get it working. A few whacks got his favorite tune playing - and with that he was out to his motorcycle.

Pulling out his "to-do list", Cole looked it over with an audible groan, "Get something for Livingston...find a book for Wilma, then some supply run stuff." He sighed, "Well, bellyaching won't finish my jobs quicker."

With that, Cole got his motorcycle started, and he swore, looked like it'd be time for a refill on the gas before long. Wouldn't that be an adventure?

The rest of the town was up and alive in tune with the rise of the morning light. There was a lot going on lately. The Hunters had reports of various monsters in the countryside for those willing to brave the more humanoid monsters of the wastelands, and there was a need for some supplies for repair of the electricity.

The electricity which was an absolute survival necessity considering what happened without light.

Edited by NickTheSwing on Apr 30th 2019 at 2:15:37 AM

Kirkton – Lucy Livingston

“Okay. Stay safe, sweetie. Love you.”

“You too.”

What could be vaguely described as a door (more a warped panel that was slid into place) closed behind Lucy as she took in a deep breath, pursing her lips as she looked about at the slumlike environment. She was always surprised that this place was still standing every morning. What with what they had to fight against, it was quite an achievement that they weren't a crater by now.

But right now, she had a job to do. The already limited electricity in their home was starting to die. Most likely a faulty connection someplace. And considering there was supposed to be a supply run to get more resources for that anyway, the girl was already feeling stressed out. It most likely meant scavenging. Something she'd only done a couple times before.

She'd hated every second of it, but she'd be damned if she didn't do her part.

“Excuse me. Sorry,” she murmured as she trudged through the streets, pulling her hood ever tighter around her head as she tried to hide herself from the small crowds. She thought she'd have had more trouble with massive amounts of people, but she was starting to think that smaller concentrations were worse. Namely because she stuck out like a sore thumb. A bigger mass of people would hide her a lot more.

It's why she slipped into one of the alleys and shot a tendril up onto a specific route. Her usual spot when she was out and about. It was the only place where she could relax. She almost liked overseeing the area. A position of advantage. She could see them, but they couldn't see her.

...Granted unless they looked up. But it was the principle of it all.

Despite having her bag on her, Lucy didn't feel like going through the tedium of unpacking her paints. So she simply sat back against a fire exit on the roof and fiddled with some of her ink—morphing it into different shapes and letting it weave between her fingers as she gazed absently up at the sky.

After a while, she formed it into a globule and flicked it off to the side.

Some might have called it procrastination.

The fracture in the roof where the globule had impacted said otherwise, though.

“I wonder how those monsters are doing.”

Wilma Printer—Once Upon A Time In Kirkton...

Wilma woke up to the sounds of various members of her family still snoring, in their roughshod yet sturdy abode which somehow miraculously managed to fit all the members of the admittedly large Printer family.

She quietly got changed into her day clothes behind a paper screen, and put on her messenger bag and—perhaps most importantly of all, her newspaper hat! She twirled in front of a mirror and smiled. Today was going to be a good day.

As she stepped out of their abode and into a large cracked-up courtyard, she took the time to admire the chalk drawings done by some of her littler cousins (with a little help from her mother). She added more details to one, and a deer delicately curled a leg in caution and paused to look around on the wall. Another mark and a spaceship took flight, becoming no more than a yellow chalk pinprick. One more and a dragon rose terrifyingly to be beaten back by a valiant knight and a princess who cast icy spells.

She could have spent all day on those drawings. They really brightened up the place. One of her cousins tugged on her coat, pausing his play with the other kids for a moment to say something: "When are you coming back, Wilma?"

"Probably around dinnertime," Wilma answered, knowing better than to speak in absolutes.

"You'll be right there and back, right?" he further questioned.

"I'll be right there and back," she reassured him. "As soon as I can, and as fast as I can, and if I can."

Wilma patted him on the head and rose. Some scavenging needed to be done so that electricity and light could be maintained, and some monsters needed to be slain.

We're running low on supplies, but the monsters are of immediate concern... Wilma thought to herself. One thing at a time, one thing at a time...

She flipped her braids behind her as she sought to head to the place where the monsters were last recorded to be seen. Alone—it should be noted that the Printers' old family curse and family feuds may have contributed to some unfortunate circumstances befalling their family, but romanticism also played a significant part.

There was also some substance to that romanticism—one Printer really was the match of a horde of Dream Eaters, but against the same amount of other beasts, the odds were not in a Printer's favor.

Kirkton - Melvin Hurst

Melvin awoke in his humble abode by preapocalyptic standards, but not so humble abode by current standards. It wasn't particularly large but it was well maintained. It had room to fit an entire family, two if they didn't mind being cramped, but it was currently only inhabited by a single person, and sometimes not even by him for decent lengths of time. The roof was solid, the plumbing worked well, and while the power was flickering that had nothing to do with the wiring of the house and only the power issues plaguing the rest of the town.

He rolled out of bed, hitting the ground without a sound as trained reflexes took over even in a half awake stupor. He sprang to his feet as he swiped his holstered handgun and sheathed knife off his endtable, bringing them with him as he changed into his clothes for the day. Since he wasn't planning on making a Big Apple run his bow sat on its stand with its special lidded quiver.

As he put his vest of random odds and ends he stared at the one photo he had on his dresser. He always spent a minute or two each morning looking at the photo of his parents and him as a young child. He could barely remember the day the photo happened. Though it wasn't something ironic like the day before his father died and his mother was crippled. It had happened well before that. They all seemed happy like they weren't living in the ruins of a once great world at least the way some of the other people who lived in it before the rise of Alpha Leunis described it as great.

Shaking his head, yet again telling himself he needed to stop dwelling on what was once his life. His parents were gone, he was alone, he needed to get over it. He grabbed breakfast, as he looked over the things needed to do around town at the moment. He didn't have a courier job lined up yet today, though he could probably dig one up if he tried instead of trying to get involved in monster hunting. He unchained his bike from its spot near his front door making sure the cart was still attached. Still scavenging for parts to fix the towns powerplant couldn't be that bad. He might have to go back for his bow. A quiet ranged weapon was always so useful when not in a mostly safe spot like Kirkton.

A quick trip back inside, and double checking his place was all locked up again, he tossed his bow and quiver in the cart on the back of his bike as he headed to the gathering point for the scavenging trip. He normally liked working solo on scavenging trips, but with something as important to the town as the power plant, he wasn't going to object to doing it in a group.

Edited by Kosjurake on Apr 30th 2019 at 6:14:18 AM

As the first few rays of light shone through the windows, it took Jayce a few moments to notice morning had arrived, somewhat distracted by his task of repairing a pedestal fan. With the blades spinning quietly on all settings, he switched it off before leaning back in his chair, satisfied with the results and the mug of coffee in his hands.

Another job done, even if most of them so far had been something as simple as this. Taking it back to the owner would be the difficult part.

Which was sort of a necessity considering there wasn't any way of contacting the client to pick it up without any reliable forms of electronic communication. In all honesty, he was partially hoping to work on repairing something more complex as he stepped outside to find the pin board had little more than notices and two requests on it, with one standing out in particular, informing him that the generator or whatever powered Kirkton was in need of repairs. ...The other wasn't even worth considering, not for the moment.

...Honestly, a clothes dryer? There's an invention called a clothesline that don't require electricity and does the job perfectly well.

At least it was obvious which one that'd be taking priority for the rest of the day. Not that he was going to object to honest and slightly harder work. Specifically getting stuff back, figuring out what would be needed for repairs wasn't likely to cause issues.

Finishing the last of his coffee and gathering his things before locking the place up, along with putting a 'Closed' sign on the door to make it quite clear he'd be out for the day, Jayce glanced back at where he'd been staying for the last two weeks as he headed to the center of town, carrying the pedestal fan with him.

Whoever the previous occupant of the place was, they'd done a rather shoddy job of looking after it. Even if it was little more than an old repair shop-garage and not particularly homely as a place to live, the last two weeks had been fixing the place up when he had some time to spare.

On the plus side, most of the equipment behind still seemed to work along with having plenty of space to work. Not to mention it was quiet and out of the way.

...Hrm. Hopefully there will be someone else to help out with this job. Otherwise I don't foresee this scavenging trip going well.

Edited by TheRealWren on Apr 30th 2019 at 11:10:24 PM

Somewhere on the edge of Kirkton

A growl resounded impressively from the stomach of a young woman struggling to drag with ropes from behind her a rather enormous monster head. Her response was mostly to snarl and kick the head in frustration...as if that would make it easier.

She paused to catch her breath and look at the town ahead of her with a tired sigh. To say she was relieved when she spotted the faint glow of electric-powered civilization last night was very much an understatement. She had already spent 2 days on edge from being stalked by the monster whose head was now in her possession; on top of it, she had been running low on her rations the day prior to...that f***ing beast ruining my hunt and forage run! This g*dd*mn head had better be worth a good amount of meals and a bed to crash on or else I might just have to strangle the a**hole who cheats me out of it...

Her thoughts drifted into rather dark territory as her irritation and hunger fuelled her enough to move the head clumsily nearly into the center of town. She paused to observe some stares and whispers she was getting from the locals she was trudging past. Considering that she probably looked more like a mangy, blood splattered mutt hauling in a fresh kill, she couldn't really blame them much to her chagrin. So she begrudgingly added a mental note of a bath to her list of priorities and tried to mask her discomfort by rearranging the ropes on the shoulders of her cloak and straining harder to pull the head further.

Edited by ayamketimun on Apr 30th 2019 at 7:00:18 AM

Cole - Kirkton Errands

Cole was out on the town - whistling the tune to his song as he zipped past on the roads, looking around for the first few errands on his to do list. He swore the Association was not barking up the right tree, but as long as the tasks were on his plate, he'd do them as best he could.

I mean, who'd send a help request to the town fuck-up?

He mentally ran through the to do list again.

Wilma's place was closer, so he decided to get that done first - just in time to see Wilma heading out herself. He brought his motorcycle to a halt and parked just close enough. Getting off his bike, he pushed the earphones down to around his neck.

Walking over, Cole gestured greetings towards her.

"Hey, Wilms, were you uh needing anything? The request mentioned a new book, but I wanted to check things out with you first. Anything I can do?" His smile was confident bordering on cocky.

Outside, within earshot of the fire escape in the building Lucy was dwelling within, three people chased after one - the fleeing one was a dark haired, smooth skinned youth, wearing a crop top shirt, shorts, and a headband, his hair somewhat long.

He tried to knock over garbage containers, but these were just swatted out of the way - and before long, he was pressed up against one of the walls by the lead member of the three man gang, held by his neck.

One of the men immediately stated, "Three ways you're a freak, Zachary Mantle...and a spy, too."

Edited by NickTheSwing on May 1st 2019 at 9:47:27 AM

Wilma Printer—Once Upon A Time In Kirkton...

"Hmm?" Wilma turned to face Cole as he approached her. "Oh! Good mornin', Cole!" she said cheerfully, walking towards him.

"I have to say: I'm needing nothing but basic necessities at the moment, which are food, water, shelter, etc. etc," she stroked her chin in thought. "But those needs are being met, and my dad mentioned starting a library-slash-museum with the art pieces we save, so I want to do that..."

"As for anything you can do...Well, I should not be factoring too much into that at the moment, but you could start by getting my Goethe or doing one of the jobs the Hunters put up. Like hunting monsters, which I am fixing to do. If they're Dream Eaters, I can dispatch them easily..." Wilma trailed off.

"I'm getting rather tired of reading the Illiad again and again. Poor Helen of Troy," was her last nonsensical declaration before she asked Cole "Would you like to say anything else?" with a polite smile on her face.

It should have been noted that while the Printers' inability to lie made for excellent lie-detector immunity when they told half-truths, it also meant that their inability to break promises (they had to learn to use exact words, loopholes, etc.) and ingrained sense of politeness combined with the above made for the most frustrating conversations imaginable. They almost never said anything bluntly, and always preferred to circle a topic several times before lightly poking it as if it were a dead creature one wanted to make sure was dead, and always answered questions literally.

Words were binding. In this case, Wilma had taken Cole's question of "Anything I can do?" to mean he wanted to do her, and responded with something along the lines of "Not me, not right now, please get with the program and stop flirting with me if that is what you aim to do."

Edited by JumpingFruit on May 1st 2019 at 9:46:25 AM

Kirkton – Lucy Livingston

Lucy started at that, pausing in her practice with her ink and raising her head at the sound of the commotion. Momentarily frozen in place out of indecision of what to do, she eventually absorbed her ink back into herself and stood up—cautiously approaching the ledge of the building and leaning over it to find out what was going on.

A boy. She didn't recognize him, but with the size of their dwelling she was sure she'd seen him before at least once. It was too small for anything else. It was also too small for physical assault to be excusable, and that along with her ingrained sense of fury on behalf of the lad soon made up her mind. She stepped on top of the ledge, momentarily bracing herself—before hopping off, coating her legs and feet in thick ink padding so as to break her fall. She landed with a dull ‘thump’ a short distance behind the gang, and wasted no time in approaching them—ducking past the apparent leader's lackeys (her diminutive height helped immensely with that) and lightly tapping him on the shoulder.

“Could you put him down, please?”

It was... a strangely amicable request, by all intents and purposes. No underlying threat or anything. She did meet the boy's eyes for a moment though—smiling kindly as if to assure him it'd be alright—but after that her gaze remained locked on the gang leader.

Cole

Cole shrugged his shoulders as Wilma basically went into great length and depth on the exact extents of "what can I do" and "what do you need". He was kind of used to this kind of thing from her. He figured he could just take the job. Kicking some pebbles along the road, Cole stated, "Hm, I'm gonna be heading out to help with the scavenging efforts. If I see a book store while I'm out there, how 'bout I swing in and see if there's anything you might like?"

He knew she didn't appreciate his flirtatious ways - probably knew about all the stories of Cole the Fuck-Up, especially considering who his parents were - and he didn't blame her. So he decided to cut right to the chase.

Figuring he should get going, Cole promptly waved and said, "See ya 'round, Wilms."

And with that he walked back over to his motorcycle and slipped his earphones back on. He got his favorite tune started again and then slipped his feet to the pedals.

The motorcycle did not need any warming up, and so with that Cole sped off on it, heading to his next destination.

But on his way, he wound up seeing a girl pulling a monster's head back into town, and he stopped his bike to whistle at the sight. Grimgrin the Vile was quite the monster, and he had to appreciate the effort that probably went into slaying the beast.

Due to the way these towns worked, Cole did know who was carrying that monster head home.

The lead brute, looking away from the downcast and frightened Zach, glowered at the appearance of Lucy. He let Zach fall from his grip, the young man accidentally hitting his head on connection with the ground with a crack that sent him reeling.

The brute promptly shouted at Lucy, "Don't get in our way, you little brat! This kid is not some innocent! On top of being a boy of the night, he's been listening in to people talking!"

Zachary visibly recoiled at each word and tried to visibly make himself smaller, holding his hands to his head, sobbing. "P-P-Please I'm sorry I didn't mean ta—-"

The brute then spitefully kicked him in the gut, grinning a bit when he heard Zachary start crying from the impact.

As Melvin got to the gathering spot for his group of scavengers, it seemed there was talk going on. People were discussing how Finn Acker, the chief lieutenant of Saint (the lead local Warlord), was ramping up his activity lately. There was worry the dangerous lieutenant might make a power play to prove himself by taking slaves from scavenging groups.

Wilma Printer—Lone Crusade

Wilma waved at Cole as he left, shouting "Thank you for your offer! Don't forget: GOETHE IS THE WORD! Don't trade away too many important things!"

After a few seconds, she continued on her merry way to the city outskirts, humming to herself along the way.

As she approached the border and exited the city, she checked her supplies: canteen, rations, many loose sheaves of paper, and one sketch-filled piece of lined paper. The lined paper had a pencil drawing of a motorcycle, a rifle, and two pistols (with the appropriate ammunition).

It looked like all was in order. Wilma pulled the motorcycle and guns out of the paper and took the time to make her paper hat into a sword, which she strapped to her back along with the guns (properly holstered, of course).

Wilma revved up the bike's engine and rode off all on her own, following the path plotted out in her mind from previously checking a map.

She was heading towards the area that most likely showed signs of Dream Eater activity, with people noting darkened areas and a deep sense of hopelessness whenever they drew near it.

Near the center of Kirkton

The sound of a dying motor and the shrill whistle following afterwards startled Aria out of her task, her head whipping about to find the source. When she spotted Cole, she followed his impressed gaze to the monster head behind her with a slightly prideful smirk unconsciously breaking up her fierce expression. Even if she was used to being a mute lone hunter, it still felt good to be appreciated once in a while...even if it was from whom the townsfolk called the local f**k-up.

Then her stomach seemed to rumble even louder than she thought possible, putting a scowl on her face once again as she contemplated her options for food. Well...it'll take a while to get this bastard back to my base. Too long for me to wait for food... She glanced back and forth from the perpetual grin on the deceased creature to the guy on the bike. Eh...f**k this s**t! I'm too hungry to care where I get it from anyways. And besides, after hearing all the rumors about him in the month she'd been here, she was more curious to meet him in person to see him for herself.

So she shrugged off the ropes to pull off her backpack hidden under her cloak, pulled out a worn notebook with a pencil and jotted down a few things. She paced over til she was just out of arm's reach from Cole before holding up her writing: Where's the grub at around here? I ran out of rations during my hunt a few days ago. Another ravenous grumble punctuated her statement and Aria's brows furrowed and twitched in annoyance.

Edited by ayamketimun on May 2nd 2019 at 2:11:00 AM

Kirkton – Lucy Livingston

Lucy visibly flinched as she was shouted at, but she still managed to stand her ground with a mostly neutral expression. The punk had the audacity to kick his victim in front of her. Unforgivable. She should teach him a lesson.

A cord of ink suddenly snapped around the leader's neck, and tightly constricted itself.

“‘Boy of the night’? We're dying here, and that's what you're worried about? No. Trust me. That's the last thing you should be upset about. We need to live. And if somehow it's true, at least he's getting money for it.”

The smaller girl slowly walked up to the leader, placing her hands to either side of his head without even glancing towards the cord around his neck. Two globules of ink splattered against his temples, and she took a cautious step away—staring momentarily at the rest of the gang with an expression somewhere between cold spite and honest apology.

Then the bulges of ink on the leader's head exploded.

Or rather, expanded. She wasn't that cold. No, rather they formed themselves into sprouting tendrils that rapidly shot towards the rest of the gang and made to latch onto their faces. Upon snagging, they would draw back in with intense velocity—aiming to crack their heads together enough to knock them out. A pseudo-vengeance on behalf of their prone victim's own new head injury.

She'd have thought it ironic, but she didn't want to laugh. That boy was a frightening mirror of her. It made her want to do whatever she could to calm him down. And she would.

Just as soon as the obstacles preventing her had been taken care of.

The directions he was given yesterday were relatively easy to follow. That it was on the way to where he needed to go was simply convenient. Even when Jayce got there and how the requester was yesterday, their overly energetic attitude was still a bit...unsettling.

It all happened in a blur, with them happily taking the fan back before vanishing into back into their home and returning with a pink box and handing it over to Jayce with a smile.

"...Look, I appreciate it, but as I said yesterday, payment isn't necessary. Just tell oth-" The young man was cut off by the door closing. "...ers about me."

Jayce couldn't help but sigh as he glanced down at the box in his hands. It was clear debating the issue was pointless and leaving the box behind would probably come across as ungrateful, especially as the client had been friendly, if very...odd. Although in comparison to rumors he'd heard of less pleasant people in the city, 'Odd' was probably preferable.

Getting to where the scavengers would be meeting up was relatively uneventful, making mental notes of places to possibly look at...sometime soon. There hadn't exactly been time to get shown around since he got to Kirkton.

Either way, when he actually managed to get to the gathering, the first order of business was to politely asking those present to figure out who exactly was in charge. ...Finding out what was in that box could wait a little longer.

Edited by TheRealWren on May 3rd 2019 at 1:39:59 AM

Kirkton Center - Melvin Hurst

Melvin rolled to a stop near the gathering of perspective scavengers wincing at what the were discussing. He had certainly put his life on the line before on scavenging trips, but risking enslavement was unappealing to say the least. Still, the town needed the new supplies for its power, so they'd have to chance.

"Alright, folks. I don't know how many of you have done these trips before, they can be dangerous yes, but as long as we do it right, we can probably avoid anyone getting kidnapped by this... Facker."

He dismounted his bike making sure it wouldn't fall over as he walked closer to the gathering. He was maybe not the most well-known member of the town, but he had been born and raised in Kirkton and run quick courier jobs for most of its population by this point.

"Anyone got any flare guns? I normally do my trips solo, but if enough of us are going, we're probably going to be splitting up into smaller groups. We'll need those as a signal if any group gets into trouble. But only if you're already in deep trouble."

Melvin wasn't much of a leader but he had experience with these kind of things and hopefully that would be respected. Assuming there wasn't already someone else organizing things. Hopefully if there was he hadn't stepped on their toes too much.

Cole - Town Outskirts

"Well, there was an old Safeway that got converted into a marketplace just due northeast of here. I always get the choice cuts from there." Cole however had not recently been back by there - two of the store-running girls had gotten into a bit of a fight over him, and he'd just gone on with his life rather than be forced to pick one or the other. Ever since, the two engaged in their little war whenever Cole was in the area.

"Kudos on slaying ol' Grimgrin. Wondered when that old Behemoth was gonna croak..." Grimgrin had been around almost as long as Kirkton As the Refugee Town...he hoped the absence of the monster didn't have any effects on the marauders.

"Well, I'm gonna go see if I can hook up with the scavenging party. Always a use for one more gun!" And with that, Cole got his motorcycle started again and headed off.

As the men gathered around and dug out flare guns, they seemed to really like how take-charge Melvin was being. The actual leader of the expedition would've been Old Magus Lahar, who, just by his title was an old magic user. In recent times however, a bad knee had relegated him to staying at home and straining his telepathy to keep in touch with the people on the ground. However it looked like today he wanted to cede most of the leading to Melvin, sticking around mostly as support.

A number of the men started talking;

"You know, as bad as it has been doing these scavenging runs, at least Saint's band of raiders mostly stayed to the Saharella Waste to the South...what if this means he is going to come back?"

"Don't you even talk about that!"

"How long its been..."

"You know, I really hope we get some kind of...of miraculous hero to lead us to safety and renewed prosperity!"

There was the sound of a motorcycle pulling up before long, and Cole pulling off his earphones.

One man openly remarked, "...Or we could just get the lazy town player who's good for nothing but getting drunk, having sex with our women, and riding that noisy vehicle around!"

Walking right past the opinionated men, Cole approached Melvin to let him know he was gonna be tagging along. He outright ignored the men talking about him like that - he was honestly used to it by now and didn't give a Mag-rat's ass.

The leader started to make for a metal pole held at his waist, but then his scoff from the image of meek little Lucy turned to horror as she gripped him, tight, with her tendril. His hands scraped at the ink, but merely parted it for an instant - unable to penetrate it.

"I—-can't—-get it off! She's—-a freak too!"

The others were likewise bound in the midst of trying to go for their weapons, reduced from thuggish men to bawling children in adult bodies. Screaming and thrashing, wide eyed.

The leader released young Zachary from Lucy's grip quickly, the boy colliding with the ground and blearily looking around as his sight righted itself. He groaned, "T-Thank ya, miss..." He didn't seem, however, very startled by Lucy's use of a power.

At the very least, Jayce had gotten an answer to who was in charge, although he couldn't help but silently sigh at one of the men's outbursts. Sure, there was magic, but hoping for miracles was rather naive.

"Just do your part and we'll fix things up the normal way. Waiting for someone to come along to fix everything overnight isn't exactly something to rely on happening, as sad it is to say."

And with Melvin bringing up the issue of sending a signal if things went south, he shook his head.

"...A flare gun? No, I don't have one, but I may be able to create some sort of substitute for the group I'm with at least."

Jayce put the box he was carrying down on the nearby bench before causing a holographic keyboard to appear out of thin air and started typing. It didn't take long for lines to appear in the air with them swiftly taking the shape of a wire-frame star that gave off a faint red glow.

"I believe that should suffice. Regardless, I don't believe we've been introduced, sir. ...My name is Jayce. Pleased to meet you." He hesitated for a moment before offering his hand for a handshake.

Kirkton – Lucy Livingston

“Shh. It's okay. You're hurt. Do you need something?” Lucy anxiously asked in response to Zachary; tone having flitted from rage to pure concern in an instant as she bent down next to him and carefully nursed the back of his head. “Do you feel dizzy or anything? Seeing double? Feel sick?”

She looked quite pale herself, but she didn't pay any mind to it. She was too worried that the boy might be bleeding out to care. It was such a far cry from her ruthless behaviour seconds ago that it was almost startling. But the care in her voice was genuine, even though it clearly didn't extend to the subdued gang around them.

Aria sternly watched as the motorcycle carried Cole off and she trudged back to the head and backpack she'd left. Grimgrin? Wasn't that one of the gigantic creatures the people said had been around here for awhile? She narrowed her eyes in contemplation as she took up her pack and lugged the head the rest of the thankfully short distance to her base.

As she kicked the thing through the shaky frame of the abandoned workshop she had converted, she looked around at how barren and pitiful the place looked with what little worn out possessions she had. Hmmm...that scavenging party the guy mentioned might be a chance for some better supplies for me. Plus... It would be a better excuse than none for Aria to get more information on the Saint and the possible whereabouts of her father. So she quickly gathered a few furs she had stashed for later trades and stomped off northeast towards the Safeway Cole mentioned.

The girls running the market were reasonable enough about their business; Aria got to trade in some of her quality skins for two large meals along with some rations for the trip. She was diving into and immensely enjoying one of those meals on a roundabout way through the slums back to her place when she heard some unmanly screeching coming from a nearby alleyway.

She wrapped up her leftovers and peeked into the shadowy space to find an interesting scene: a bunch of thugs struggling to escape from some tendrils of ink holding them in place while a slender girl was reaching out to a injured boy in concern. One glance at the skimpy clothes of the lanky boy sent one thought into Aria's head: Ah, one of those boys... She sighed sadly since she had seen similar sights of abuse of those kinds of kids all too often in the towns she passed through. At least someone had the balls to stand up to those a**holes and protect them this time!

Suddenly determined to help as well, Aria crouched down to take out her pack and rummage through it to find her first aid kit. Holding it in front, she approached the pair cautiously with her eyes awkwardly turned away to hide her fierce yet sympathetic gaze. Then she cleared her throat to loudly announce her presence.

Melvin froze for a moment, realizing he had all but volunteered to be the leader of this little expedition, something that wasn't really his intention. There was a voice in the back of his head saying this was a mistake but oh well.

"Alright... so ok, we got what looks like 50 or so of us prepped for the trip. I'm gonna break us up in to squads of hmmm five sounds good. Don't want the individual groups being too large."

He glanced over at Cole and Jayce as they arrived nodding at Cole and shaking Jayce's hand. "Hurst, Melvin Hurst."

He turned back to the group at large. "Ok I don't have time to get to know all ya'll for in depth team organizing so first, people who haven't gone scaving before gather on my right, everyone who has prior experience line up on the left. And then once you're all lined up, take a step forward for every scaving trip you've been on. The nine most experienced will be squad leaders. I want only one or two rookies per squad."

Once the rough sort of the group was done, Melvin would try balancing the overall experience of each individual group as best as possible, though taking caution not to have more then one or two rookies per group. He also made sure flare guns were distributed so that each squad had at least one.

"Alright, Cole you're on my team cause I just don't want to deal with any intrasquad conflict." He'd slot Jayce into one of the other squads unless the man particularly objected to it.

Once the teams were all formed up Melvin looked over the group suppressing a sigh before speaking again.

"Alright before we head out, want to go over a few guidelines. First off silence is golden people. I'm sure most of you with prior experience already know that but it bares repeating anyways. No motor vehicles, and only use firearms in an emergency. The less noise we make the less likely we are to get attacked. You can talk amongst your squads to communicate but do it quietly. Next up, stick together. Don't let anyone in your squad out of sight for more then a few seconds if you can help it. And as I said earlier, only use the flare guns in an emergency as well. Uhhh... I think that's basically it for the guidelines... any questions??"

Cole - Scavenging Party

Cole didn't really object, just looking out at the world and hoping beyond hope that they got the materials before nightfall. Considering the kinds of things that liked to show up after the sun went down, this really could be a matter of life and death. And with that in mind he didn't mind being kept away from any distracting conflict.

When Melv asked if anyone had any questions, Cole decided that Grimgrin's death merited being spoken of;

"Well, not really a question, really," Cole started, and then said, "Ol' Grimgrin the Behemoth...is dead. Killed by a local hunter. Just figured I should bring that up in case it might cause some fluctuation in what happens out there."

He did have a gun with his bike, and decided consciously it'd be better to not bring it along. He might accidentally shoot off if something happened.

And isn't there enough risk of that with me already...

Wilma Printer—Lone Crusade

When Wilma was close to arriving to the place she'd heard was Dream Eater-infested, she stopped her bike, stowed it on its paper, and walked the rest of the way on foot for the sake of stealth.

She didn't think that it would help that much, since Dream Eaters could sense hope and dreams in people—she, still being a child and Inspired to boot, would be an especially juicy morsel for them.

When she approached the ghost town (really, some abandoned suburbs from before Alpha-Leunis), she could feel a chill go down her back. That just meant she was close.

Wilma unholstered a pistol and kept it in one hand as she snooped around. Surely, if she did not find trouble first, it would find her?

Edited by JumpingFruit on May 4th 2019 at 9:31:18 AM

Kirkton – Lucy Livingston

So caught up in worry for the boy was she that Lucy didn't even notice the clear sounds of rummaging or the approaching figure accompanying it, and as such nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden clearing of a throat nearby. Her fist was instinctively coated in a thick layer of ink, and she moved protectively in front of Zach—only to falter at the sight of Aria, gaze snapping to the first-aid kit in her hand as she sheepishly let the ink gauntlet absorb back through her skin.

“O-Oh. Sorry. Um... th-thank you.”

She cautiously took the thing from Aria's grasp, shooting her a nervous yet graceful smile before turning her attention back to the injured boy. Ignoring his skimpy clothing with a slight swallow (she hadn't noticed in her desperation before) she reached into the pack to find some gauze. Upon getting it, she carefully lifted the boy's head and applied it to the wound—wrapping it in place as securely as she could dare.

She was aware she'd missed a few steps, but right now she just wanted to stop the bleeding.

“Hey. Can you stand up?” she asked gently, moving to help support him if necessary. She seemed entirely focused on making sure he was okay—but the ink restraining the thugs off to the side was slowly rising up the walls of the alley and securing them higher up off the ground, so it was clear that at least some of her vitriol was still present.

Giving a small nod, Jayce took another look at those who'd assembled. It was...certainly an interesting crowd. Was a bit hard to tell if anyone else had been volunteered for scavenging duty.

"No, nothing further to ask. You gave solid advice, si- Er, Melvin. As long as no-one decides to pick a fight with a strong monster thinking numbers gives us an advantage, we should be fine."

It seemed as if Jayce had little issue with who he'd be working with as he picked up the box and caused that wireframe star to flicker and fade out. Introductions to others not in his group could wait until they'd returned from the expedition, as it were. Cole speaking up with some 'good' news at least put some worried of someone wanting to be a glory hound and bag a monster when...that wasn't why they were leaving Kirkton for the day.

"...Right. One less threat to be concerned about is welcome. Still, best to be ready, probably of plenty of smaller ones to take it's place."

"Well... alright that is mostly good news. Might mean more smaller threats moving in... but I'm just gonna call it good news anyways. Ok uhhh everyone fine with their teams? Let's head out then. Feel free to talk amongst your squads while we move to figure out how to best distribute tasks."

Melvin fiddled with the flare gun debating if he should keep it or hand it off to one of the other people in his squad, as he started the group moving. He wasn't going to mount up his bike just yet, content to simply walk with the rest of the scavengers for the moment, while pulling it alongside him.

"Alright, so, I'm probably gonna do most of the scouting when we get there. You know popping into dark places, looking for the stuff we need. Climbing stuff that needs climbing so on and so fourth."

He glances at Cole and the others in their squad. "So what are you guys good for or want to do?"