DeltaV Member
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- DeltaV 10 yrs ago
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Bio
Sometimes I partake in the computers.
Most Recent Posts
Very sorry about the triple post, website spazzed on me.
((See above))
((Triple-post, goddamnit website))
Marcus lay on the bed in the small room of the Vault that had been allocated 'his' for the last twenty years, thinking. It had been a long time, hadn't it? A long time both since he'd been able to just sit in quiet contemplation, but more pressingly a long time since he'd stepped foot into the open air. He longed to be able to feel sunlight, rather than cold sterile fluorescent lights, and to maybe feel some wind for the first time in a while.
The lights dimmed; an announcement blared, and Marcus half-listened. He had friends in the upper workings as well as the engineering of the vault, and they'd had a vague idea that /something/ was going to happen. This was something. He stood and walked stiffly to the meeting hall, and arrived in a crowd of maybe fifty or a hundred people.
Something something red-blooded Americans, basic tools, rebuild civilization, end speech. With any luck there were more than just this fifty people around to do it -- probably half of them had spent most of their life inside of this cramped nuclear shelter, and the other half had been teenagers or children when they'd gone in. Marcus was the eldest person in the room, by... Ten years, maybe? One or two people at least looked thirty or forty.
The announcement died down and the lights shone once more on the rather pitiful crowd assembled. Marcus wondered what anyone's odds of surviving were. The announcement had said something about farming tools and water testers, but even if everyone was a master farmer, and even if the streams were clean and the rainwater wasn't acidic, that was still a good half a year before anything started to pay off. Idly, he wondered if there was enough food left for everyone to last that long. Marcus wasn't a farmer and he wasn't any sort of hunter of scavenger -- he was a lawyer and, recently, a teacher.
Anyways, enough thinking. Things would work out or they wouldn't; there was no point stressing about it. Marcus stepped out of the doorway and into the crowd of the meeting hall, looking for a familiar face to discuss with -- one of his former students, maybe. A lot of them had been teenagers going into the vault and he'd taught them something at some point or another.
The lights dimmed; an announcement blared, and Marcus half-listened. He had friends in the upper workings as well as the engineering of the vault, and they'd had a vague idea that /something/ was going to happen. This was something. He stood and walked stiffly to the meeting hall, and arrived in a crowd of maybe fifty or a hundred people.
Something something red-blooded Americans, basic tools, rebuild civilization, end speech. With any luck there were more than just this fifty people around to do it -- probably half of them had spent most of their life inside of this cramped nuclear shelter, and the other half had been teenagers or children when they'd gone in. Marcus was the eldest person in the room, by... Ten years, maybe? One or two people at least looked thirty or forty.
The announcement died down and the lights shone once more on the rather pitiful crowd assembled. Marcus wondered what anyone's odds of surviving were. The announcement had said something about farming tools and water testers, but even if everyone was a master farmer, and even if the streams were clean and the rainwater wasn't acidic, that was still a good half a year before anything started to pay off. Idly, he wondered if there was enough food left for everyone to last that long. Marcus wasn't a farmer and he wasn't any sort of hunter of scavenger -- he was a lawyer and, recently, a teacher.
Anyways, enough thinking. Things would work out or they wouldn't; there was no point stressing about it. Marcus stepped out of the doorway and into the crowd of the meeting hall, looking for a familiar face to discuss with -- one of his former students, maybe. A lot of them had been teenagers going into the vault and he'd taught them something at some point or another.
You guys still taking apps? If so:
Name: Marcus Johnson
Age: 52
Occupation: Teacher
Personality: A stern but straightforward man, he has a tendency to say what is on his mind and as such can be a bit abrasive at times. Despite this, Marcus has a good, if dry and sarcastic, sense of humor, which he has used for twenty years straight as a method of coping with the loss of everything he knew. He has a tendency to attempt to take charge in many situations, but in the end is more of a philosophical kind of guy than an efficient leader.
Backstory: Marcus grew up in the suburbs of southwestern Ohio, where he lived a rather normal life. From a young age, he took interest in subjects such as history, economics and law. Though he considered going into a political career, Marcus instead went to law school, and graduated near -- but not at -- the top of his class. From there, he traveled back to his home city of Cincinnati and became a practicing lawyer.
Life for the next ten years or so was largely normal -- Marcus settled down, got married and fathered two children, and generally lived a fulfilling life. As one might expect, this changed rather rapidly when disaster struck: At the time, Marcus had been lecturing at a nearby university where he taught law on weekends, and as such was spared when the downtown was hit by a small nuclear weapon -- he never learned of the fate of his family, but instead was corralled into the relatively 'safe' vault, where he spent the next twenty years. While he was certainly not a teacher by profession, he was one of the closest things to it on short-notice and took on a job as one of the teachers in the vault. He kept in good shape throughout the twenty years and emerged in decent condition, while rather old compared to most of the survivors, some of whom had been born in the vault and who he had personally educated at some point or another. As the date of the vault's opening drew closer, Marcus made plans to return home and search for his missing family, on the off-chance that they might still be alive.
Name: Marcus Johnson
Age: 52
Occupation: Teacher
Personality: A stern but straightforward man, he has a tendency to say what is on his mind and as such can be a bit abrasive at times. Despite this, Marcus has a good, if dry and sarcastic, sense of humor, which he has used for twenty years straight as a method of coping with the loss of everything he knew. He has a tendency to attempt to take charge in many situations, but in the end is more of a philosophical kind of guy than an efficient leader.
Backstory: Marcus grew up in the suburbs of southwestern Ohio, where he lived a rather normal life. From a young age, he took interest in subjects such as history, economics and law. Though he considered going into a political career, Marcus instead went to law school, and graduated near -- but not at -- the top of his class. From there, he traveled back to his home city of Cincinnati and became a practicing lawyer.
Life for the next ten years or so was largely normal -- Marcus settled down, got married and fathered two children, and generally lived a fulfilling life. As one might expect, this changed rather rapidly when disaster struck: At the time, Marcus had been lecturing at a nearby university where he taught law on weekends, and as such was spared when the downtown was hit by a small nuclear weapon -- he never learned of the fate of his family, but instead was corralled into the relatively 'safe' vault, where he spent the next twenty years. While he was certainly not a teacher by profession, he was one of the closest things to it on short-notice and took on a job as one of the teachers in the vault. He kept in good shape throughout the twenty years and emerged in decent condition, while rather old compared to most of the survivors, some of whom had been born in the vault and who he had personally educated at some point or another. As the date of the vault's opening drew closer, Marcus made plans to return home and search for his missing family, on the off-chance that they might still be alive.
In
The March to Novgorod -- Death to Fascists! -- WW2 Eastern Front interest check
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Interested.
In
Clash of Civilisation: A Historical/Alternate History RP
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Nation Interest Checks
Sounds interesting. Since someone's already picked the Holy Roman Empire, I'll call the Byzantine Empire. Obviously only a few provinces within it, but still; my vote goes to everyone getting to pick four.
Also, you say pre-Renaissance, but also mention Bronze Age? By the high middle ages (Before the Renaissance) people were a long ways past bronze.
Also, you say pre-Renaissance, but also mention Bronze Age? By the high middle ages (Before the Renaissance) people were a long ways past bronze.
Interested. Is this going to be very sci-fi or more of a Gravity-type thing?
Interested.
Interested, but not sure if I could be a GM.
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