Scorched Earth IC [Azseth & Raindrop]

[raindrop]

Scorched Earth

Devastated by the overwhelming alien invasion and subsequent war, the fires that lit the cities of Earth have cooled. The last year I remember counting was 2048; there was a birthday party then there was madness.

Their ships appear to be gone, though the invaders (dubbed the 'Grayliens' by the news media in the early days of the invasion) seemed to have won decisively. Our cities have been destroyed, most of the global population killed though there are still small groups of us hiding, running, scavenging...

...and giving the remaining aliens hell.

Some in the human resistance believe that the invaders have given up and left stragglers behind. The rest of us see these believers as pie-eyed optimists who are in desperate need of a boot to the backside. Our prevailing theory is that this was just phase one and that they'll be back in even greater numbers to colonize our cleared planet.

The aliens left behind seem not much better off than we are and when we meet, well, it's survival of the fittest. When we don't it's just survival. The human race is a flame not easily put out and we'll be damned if we just let them walk in and do it.

Time & Place: The devastated remains of Earth, 2063

The Goal: Survive and Prevail

OOC

Players: Azseth & Raindrop

[raindrop]

Clouds made a woolly gray ceiling overhead, leaking a cold intermittent drizzle. It was just before dawn and Ilsa lay stretched out on the old apartment building roof in the cover of its brick facade. About twenty feet below at street level Morris and Jelly would be getting ready to do something that was, in all probability, very stupid.

Striders had been guarding the whole block across from the remains of this apartment building where there had once been a post office, bank, and an office building. Now, most of the buildings were ruins though parts still stood like skeletal remains.

Every now and then a few grunts, their movements suggesting that they were securely under their overseer's control, would appear and move some of the debris around. More Striders showed up now and then and vanished into the bowels of the former bank, apparently bringing in more supplies as they found some to stash.

Ilsa's stomach twisted with hunger and anger flamed along her nerves. There was food on that block, most likely in the vault. The Lankies were cleaning out the entire surrounding area for themselves. Still, she waited patiently, sighting through the scope on the Parker Hale, its barrel braced on the brickwork.

There was a subtle shaking, a definite tremble through the building and a hulking shape came into view, its armored head turning this way and that. Ilsa's guts decided that food was the least of their problems and decided to try and freeze instead as the Giant turned toward her.

She was almost certain that it didn't know she was here. Everything they knew about Giants indicated that the creatures' eyesight was generally poor which was why they'd chosen this time of day when she was a deep-grey shape amongst other deep-grey shapes.

The breeze shifted, Ilsa cursed inwardly as she felt it flow from her back up over her head. The creature had stopped still and she saw its nostrils flare. Thick grey lips wrinkled back from incisors nearly as big as a chainsaw.

Hell.

Ilsa didn't wait to watch as one of the fists came back, she snapped off the shot at the right eye, then scrambled away, clutching the rifle as she ran for it. There was not much of the back of the building left and there was soon to be nothing left of the front, either, as the Giant's fist crashed into the brickwork just where she'd been a second earlier.

It had been a careful climb up the rubble originally and now she didn't bother with care, just scrambled, jumped, and fell blindly as bricks rained down from above. The remains of the building groaned, a foreboding accompaniment to the shrieking roar from the Giant.

She slipped, slid, and lost control of her descent, falling the remaining several feet so that she felt she'd been beaten up in one instant, all along her left side. More crashing sounds came from the front of the building, more rubble falling on her as she dragged herself to her feet, shaking off the pain as well as possible.

Where were Morris and Jelly? There wasn't time to find out, they'd have to regroup at the hide. She looped the rifle's strap around her so that it rested on her back and ran-climbed-limped-scampered to get far away as she could.

[Azseth]

Calvin Lakeland

From just along the outskirts of the battered city, he could hear some commotion going on deeper in. It wasn't his concern. Between graylien loyalist, graylien rebels, human survivors and human bandits, it was just as like as naught that if he went to investigate or help, he'd be the one being shot at and chased down.

Things took an interesting turn of late. The ships floating above, gone. Calvin actually witnessed a few instances where groups of the grayliens openly argued and one fire fight. At that point it became appearant to him that what most likely happened is that the command left them. Almost any time a combat unit loses their leader, or command comm, there are those few "shit, what the fuck do we do now moments." Some don't voice it, others do, but real killers don't let it go beyond those few moments. 'Move left or move right. But move." That's what he was taught.

But not today. Too much activity going on. Calvin found that venturing into the heart of cities generally meant trouble. It's where most people felt comfortable. Which meant that's where the enemy knew to focus their efforts. So he stuck to the outskirts, searching, sleeping, resting. Watching others come and go.

Then he heard it, a woman's scream. Moving slowly, he moved from one corner of his building to the other. It was mostly intact, with it's entire roof still above, so he was afforded very good concealment as he moved to the window. He stood a good 2 feet back from the window and looked out as the scene unfolded before him.

One man was lying dead in the middle of the street, a large kitchen knife stuck out from his neck. If he wasn't dead now, he would be in a minute. On top of him sobbing was a woman, her clothes in tatters.

And then, past here, five individuals walked out slowly, laughing and smiling, obviously having a good time with the whole thing. There was a large THUD off in the distance and what had to be gunfire, but from where he was sounded like firecrackers. All five of the men looked over in the direction, but Calvin kept his eyes on the five, who by their looks and way they were laughing and tormenting the girl verbally, he now took for bandits. This was not the ideal situation. Five on one never was. He couldn't really move to get higher or a better angle, because now it would most likely create attention. One of the men moved to the woman and roughly pulled on the shoulder of her shirt, obviously intent on removing it, but only succeeded in ripping it slightly as she struggle, at which point he rewarded her with a slap across the face.

He stood up slowly, and removed the strip securing his glock into it's holster. He took a deep breath while watching the men, looking over their mannerisms and their weapons. Some had no fire arms, some did, and none had them in hand. Good. What made Calvin different from these men in terms of killing is that they killed because the world put them in the situation at some point. Calvin killed because it was his job, and thus far in his life he had not killed anyone he regretted. He was a professional. While others slept and ate and tried to attain meager comfort, he drew his glock out, over and over and over. Standing. Left hand. Right hand. From his knees. While laying down. He cleaned his weapons at night so he didn't depend on light. When he walked, he trained, weapon movements, making sure his muscle memory was where it needed to be while others focused on things like food and clothes.

A rabbit will a full belly is still eaten by the wolf. To avoid being eaten, a rabbit needs to become a wolf.

He watched the scene a moment longer, then exhaled and walked through the door way, shouting "Heyo. STOP. No guns. Hear me out" Then, another large THUD behind them, it was becoming more frequent, and the ground shook slightly. All five of them looked that way, some for a second, some for a few. Good.

Eyes on the prey, not on the horizon...

[raindrop]

Well, this had been a bad idea, Ilsa thought as she hobbled fast as possible through an alley, avoiding piles of rubble and garbage the best she could in her hurry. It didn't help that Morris and Jelly weren't here so that she could say 'I told you so'. There was a momentary lull in the sounds of destruction behind her and a deep thud then another.

damnitalltohell It not only wasn't dead but if she didn't miss her guess it was trying to trail her.

Ilsa's lips skinned back from her teeth in a feral smile, adrenaline keeping her on her feet as it told lies about the damage she'd taken. That giant was a big boy but she would be hard for it to follow and should lose it pretty easily.

A splintering crash came from behind her and far above. She risked a glance and saw the explosion of the top corner of another building as the giant's fist took windows and wall right out.

Temper, temper

Ilsa scurried faster her injuries totally on hold now as her brain insisted that not being here was her best option. She leaped over a prone body, paying no attention to the wino's mutterings as she took another turning and sped along a nearly-clear side street.

Thud

The fact that the street had such a swept-clear appearance put Ilsa on her guard. Clean places in the city usually meant that someone had staked a claim to the territory, human or alien. Order could often mean danger.

She paused in a recessed doorway, listening, scanning for trouble.

Thud Okay, that trouble she already knew about. If there were bandits, gangers, or striders here they were keeping well-hidden. She stared suspiciously at the dented blue-and-rust post-office box that stood innocently on the curb, about six feet from her hiding place.

She reached down by her boot, finding a chipped piece of concrete about the size of her palm. Straightening, she drew the Winchester and then pitched the chip at the post office box.

The piece of concrete seemed to sink into the box and she had the Winchester trained and ready before the 'tink' of concrete on metal occurred.

Thud.

There was a shimmer and in place of a post-office box a crouched figure in a metal helmet was revealed, skinny arms raised in surrender. The chamelion was wide-eyed, trying to look harmless as possible and distracted by the approaching giant.

"That's right," Ilsa hissed, waving the ugly thing into the doorway as she stepped out of it, "one of your big buddies is on his way. You just stay here and leave me alone. Got it?"

She had no idea if it understood her but it shrank into the doorway and glanced from her to the sounds of the giant. Obviously it was more afraid of its own kind than her even with the Winchester aimed at it.

Ilsa left it and ran up the street, hoping that whoever 'owned' it would be too busy hiding to come after her. Apparently that was the case and she didn't see another soul as she sprinted around the curved that the street made to join another one.

Gaining ground on the giant felt good and the thudding of its footsteps was farther away now. The hide would be safe if she could just make it there.

Coming around where the street crossed another, larger one, Ilsa stopped. Under the darkened traffic signals a man lay on the street with an all-to-familiar stillness, a dark lake of blood beside his head where he'd bled out. A woman was with the body, a group of thugs ringing her.

Ilsa stopped dead in the shadow of the former Transit Authority, hoping that she hadn't drawn attention.

Thud.

No wonder there had been no one on this street, Ilsa thought bitterly as she saw that one man still grasped the shoulder of the woman's shirt, they were busy. Now, though, they were looking down the larger street, in the direction of the sounds of the approaching giant.

This could be stopped right now. Ilsa never noticed the man in the doorway as she brought the Winchester up and pulled the trigger, dropping the man closest to the woman. The woman screamed as the body fell on her and scrambled to get away.

[Azseth]

The moment the shot rang out, Calvin knew he was in trouble. He assumed the shooter was either with them but the moment he saw the red mist of the bullet hitting the one bandit, he knew the shooter wasn't with them.

But that didn't mean the shooter wasn't assuming he was one of them, or just shooting indiscriminately.

The bandit’s body hardly hit the ground before his glock was in his hand and he put three rounds into two of the other bandits’ upper body while spinning and heading back from the door he stepped out of moments before as rounds flew by, one impacting inches from his back against the brick, pelting him with a shower of rocks and dust.

He slid down to the floor and at that point, as the pounding grew closer, he realized he was in a bad way. The back door was blocked from the wreckage of the building behind it, so he could go out the side, and face the behemoth or the front. However, what was originally 5 was now more like 10 judging from the constant rain of bullets impacting the building all around him. Calvin laughed to himself and just huddled behind the chimney, the thickest part of the wall. He guessed the rest must have been hid out in the buildings across the street.

The moment that the bandits realized that the giant was almost on them, they ceased firing. It came around the street corner and as as the huge graylien surveyed the scene, one thing was evident: the giants were the most stupid of the alien races. You could almost see the confusion on the aliens face as he saw and heard nothing. It turned it's head around and Calvin saw his chance. “Better you cock suckers than me,” he muttered as he picked up a half-broken jar of glass and a pipe and threw one, then the other through the window and into the area that the bandits were hunkered down in. As the glass shattered and the metal pipe clanged loudly and rolled and bounced, the reaction was immediate.

The giant screamed and charged head first towards the noise, and the bandits started shooting. Unfortunately for the woman, she was behind the giant and the bandits and Calvin turned his head as she let out the first part of a shriek before she was stepped on. He cursed to himself and took off out the side door now that the two groups were handling their differences. “I’m out this bitch,” he said as he took off as far away and as quickly as possible.

[raindrop]

When another bandit went down and she hadn't shot him, Ilsa knew that someone else had dealt himself in. She saw a movement from the direction of the shots as someone scrambled for cover and the irate bandits began returning fire.

A piece of brickwork flew off at about the height of Ilsa's head from where she stood out of their sight.

The thudding had grown louder and faster and she realized that the meager cover was find against the bandits but was at the entirely wrong angle for the giant; it would see her as soon as it rounded the bend.

She beat another look around the corner and fired off a shot before throwing herself back behind the wall again. They were still much too healthy for her liking and there was little she could do.

Turning, she saw the looming shape of the giant and she crouched, ready to go out shooting at the very least. The giant, though, was distracted by the sound of glass and metal from the direction of the bandits and let out a shriek as it charged the bandits.

Ilsa could only watch, mouth open a little as the thing rumbled by, cracking the pavement as it went. She peeped around the corner quick enough to see the woman get smashed by a giant foot. It was time to move, now.

Darting across the street that the giant had just used, she raced alongside the building that she'd seen the man go into. She nearly careened into him as he came out of the side door and she didn't even think, just ran away from him on a tangent, turning up another alley.

Just because he'd shot some bandits didn't make him a friend. The saying the enemy of my enemy is my friend didn't necessarily hold true on these streets.

She looked back to see if he was still there, she couldn't head back to the hide if he was going to try and follow.

[Azseth]

Moments after he took off running, he turned and looked over his shoulder as the firefight reached it’s violent crescendo. Then out of nowhere he hit a form and while no damage was done to either party, he caught his feet up and tripped, hitting the ground at a roll and saw her skirt west down an alley.

He took off in the same direction, running west, but ran through a series of houses that obviously were used before, because a series of doors were open, and the wood to a handful of walls was torn or cut to give one a clear path but avoiding detection for the most part from outside. He could see her form through an occasional window or hole as he passed her, then she was gone. He was about to run through the last doorway, when he saw out a window to the south a squad of at least 10 striders headed north up the street, towards them.

He stopped, boots sliding on the floor and ran to a window and when the form outside ran by, he reached out and grabbed her, suddenly, very violently and pulled the form in through the window, clamping down his hand over her mouth. As loudly as he dared, he said into her air “shhhh shhhh shhh” then stopped as just outside, on the other side of the wall he heard the crunch of rocks and glass as two grayliens made their way down the alley. Had the girl kept on, she’d most likely have ran head first into the patrol.

The two creatures were conversing, although about what he would never know. Their language was completely guttural, with hissing S sounds and K sounds that sounded more like a deep clicking. He then saw and felt blood on his hand and realized his face was burning, probably cut and peppered with debris from when the round struck near his face while retreating what seemed like hours ago.

He let go of the woman’s mouth and held his hands up. Whispering quickly, “sorry.”

[raindrop]

Adrenaline is fantastic but it only lasts so long. It had been a long run from where Ilsa had first tumbled down from her eyrie after failing to kill off the giant. The subsequent firefight and stress of having the giant bear down nearly on top of her together with more running had severely depleted the rush. Her bruises, abraisions, and insulted muscles chimed in with her chugging lungs so that as she pushed herself she knew she wasn't focused. Still, the image of the woman being smashed was fresh in her mind as was the vicious glee on the bandits' faces before the giant had shown up.

There was also the fierce satisfaction of having taken out a threat.

The man she'd bumped into appeared to be gone but Ilsa knew better than to believe it. Most of the buildings and homes in this area had become rabbit warrens of passages and hides so he could be anywhere. If he wanted to find out more about her such as where she kept food and water he could be very-

As she closed in on one of the buildings, too close to the wall but too tired to run wide, a pair of hands grabbed her and yanked her through a window. She might have courted whiplash from the change in direction except for the hand that muffled her mouth as she was pulled tight against someone else.

Before she could struggle or try to bite she heard her attacker hushing her and saw moving shadows against the side windows. She stood stock-still, she'd nearly run right into a graylien patrol. Stupid, she should have known that especially once the giant had been disturbed like that they'd be out in force.

She smelled blood and then the hands that held her were gone. She took a few quiet steps back and turned, fists balled just in case. The man who'd hauled her through the window had his hands up as he whispered an apology. Brown hair, regular features, vaguely military clothing, lots of weapons.

He'd kept her from running right into the patrol, she nodded her thanks and provisionally added him to the mental 'not enemies' list knowing that could change in a heartbeat. She swallowed, turning her eyes back toward where two grayliens talked outside in their peculiar tongue.

She tried to breathe quietly, her heart hammering in her ears and a sharp pain in her side prompting her to lay a hand over it for a moment to try and ease it. Possibly a broken rib from the fall, what fun.

Turning her eyes to her so far not-enemy Ilsa raised her eyebrows and whispered faintly, "Plan?"

[Azseth]

He looked her over quickly, more to make out her intentions than anything. He just saved her, but he also pretty much attacked her, dragged her kicking in through a window and subdued her. Some might not take kindly to treatment like that. After feeling slightly comfortable that she was not going to shoot him, he started peeking out of windows and holes.

“Helluva first date, yeah? Uh, yeah. Plan? My plan is to get the hell out of here. Something’s up. They’re starting to come in more and more. I think one of them is acting as a leader, trying to bring them together.” To be honest, he didn’t need to know why, he just knew it wasn’t safe.

He spoke in a hushed tone, and very quickly. He hadn’t been around anyone in what. A few weeks? He looked at his watch, at the date, and smirked. A few months… The whole time he was talking, he surveyed the scene and all seemed quite. Off in the distance the shooting stopped, and there was a sudden duo of explosions, rather large. Silently, he found himself hoping that in their last stand the bandits realized their fate and blew the hell out of the place, and took all the grey skinned bastards with them.

Two birds. One stick of C4.

“Seriously though. Sorry about that. I guess I figured that in hindsight you’d prefer to be snatched up by me than them. Not a real looker I know, but I do consider myself a notch or two above the grays. Can you move?” He noticed her looking read faced and winded, and a bit in pain.

[raindrop]

Ilsa nodded and held out the hand that wasn't pressed to her side.

“Yeah, just give me a minute,” she was somewhat amused by what he'd said, a date, huh. Yeah, this was probably the closest thing she'd had to a date since...well, since she could remember. He wasn't movie-star handsome but for all his playful humility he wasn't bad-looking at all.

“I'm not sure what they're up to either but I can tell you,” she paused to breathe then went on, “that giant...came from down a few blocks. They have some sort of depot there. Storing up resources, we think.”

She dropped her guard enough to put both hands on her knees and let her head droop for a moment, stretching the neck muscles. After a long moment of that she felt for the Parker-Hale and found it still securely strapped on, it couldn't have been comfortable for this guy when he'd grabbed her off the street.

Catching her breath and feeling a little more rested, Ilsa stood up. She couldn't take him to the hide, no, there was no way that would happen but there were other places. She turned slowly, trying to get an idea where all the enemy was.

“If we can get out the back way,” she said, still in the very quiet tone, “I think I know which house we need to go to.” She grinned a little weakly but it was still a grin, “I don't suppose you've got a light? If I'm right I can get us into the old subway system.”