Firecracker_

Deadland Wasteland. [Beware Zombies! They Bite!]

Can't wait for your post Levi! :)

Deadland Wasteland. [Beware Zombies! They Bite!]

Aeonumbra said
Fucking beautiful post fire. I felt like I was in a stephen king book for a moment. I will update the information database with the Polymelia-Class plant spore, I will elaborate more onto as I like the idea. Pretty much a venus flytrap surrounded by a miles of thick vines right? If you want to add something else to it let me know, I'm going to eat dinner and watch a round of Defiance before doing rpg work.Take a note from fire, I love this kind of creativity, making shit up. The Darkling dying from biting an infected wasn't something I thought about, but will keep when I update the creature compendium, to be added with the flora.

Thank you a bunch! And I was thinking of this except facing upwards, and just a big pool of digestive juices, but still teeth lol.

Deadland Wasteland. [Beware Zombies! They Bite!]

Posted in the IC! Hope you guys enjoy it per usual!

Deadland Wasteland. [Beware Zombies! They Bite!]

The sky had dimmed, with a very faint pink still in the sky, and the night stars beginning to show themselves more and more. It had been about an hour and a half since his evening drop on the boardwalk, and the sounds of explosions were somewhere far in the distance, not visible. Ryker was perched atop a building, try to spot Central Park, when he began watching some movement through his binoculars, and flicked the night vision on. Something dog-like was attacking an infected humanoid, and dragged it down to the ground, and a few more hounds rushed over to share in the feast. They were Darklings. He'd heard about them mauling some Scouting teams before, and they were ferocious little monsters. Sadly, they still hadn't learned to stay away from spoiled food, and soon started feeling the affects of eating Blackwater infected meat. They soon collapsed, their mouths opening in what he presumed were death cries. The thought of putting them out of their misery crossed his mind, but the distance would probably make for a lot of missed shots, so he decided to save the bullets. They wouldn't show him the same courtesy anyways.

"Great." He muttered to himself. "Another goddamn roadblock."

If there were some Darklings here, that meant there had to be more around somewhere. They never ventured far from their burrow, unless they were hunting or starving, and Ryker still couldn't judge if either of those was the case. He took a few quiet steps to his right to shift his gaze to the around a tree, and found a moderate sized pack of them were moving around. They passed a sign, which conveniently read Central Park 3 Miles with an arrow pointing forward.

Great. More walking. Into a pack of hungry Darklings.

Suddenly, a screech broke the silence around Ryker. He immediately threw himself away from the ledge onto his butt. His hand found his rifle very quickly, pulling it up to his shoulder, barrel pointed towards the sky where the screech had emanated. He saw a huge wingspan fall through the sky, snatching a screeching and whining Darkling straight off the ground and soaring off. The other Darklings all quickly scattered in different directions. Of course, where there were Darklings, there had to be mutated birds of prey. Ryker quickly pushed himself off the ground, and ran to the access door to the roof. Before, he had gotten to the roof using ladders on the outside, but now he had to clear out the pitch black building, or at least it's stair case.

---

The first few flights were empty. The small orb had come out the back of Ryker's left hand came out, giving him a large area of light, making the trip down the stair case a bit less unsettling. A tug on his ankle quickly became a full force pull, sending Ryker off his feet, his left shoulder and side of his face hitting the wall next to him. His leg was pulled further out through the space in the safety rail, until his crotch caught the bar and halted his descent. Ryker cursed in pain, trying to get his other leg under him to push against the pull. He dropped his rifle, and sat up, sticking his lit hand out, peering to see what had pulled him. There, at the bottom of the stairwell, sat a huge plant spore with many, sprawling vine covering the walls and last few flights of steps. It could tell Ryker was looking at it, and let out a sort of guttural noise at him. It tugged at his leg gently, but not aggressively. Normally, these types of plants would be madly tearing Ryker apart to trying to get him down, but this one was... different. It wasn't aggressive. At least not as aggressive. A perplexed look took over his face, and he sat back, starting to think.

The gerbil in Ryker's head finally ran fast enough to power a light bulb, and he began quickly trying to take his backpack off. He unzipped it, taking the bag with dried meats and jerky out, extracting a sizable piece. He bit into it, the savory flavors being very welcome to his hungry mouth. He tore his piece off, and then dropped it over the edge, aiming for the plants mouth. It landed in it's 'stomach' and started being digested immediately, almost bubbling. The plant let out an almost happy gurgle, and it's grip on Ryker's ankle loosened, the vine falling down off of his leg. Ryker chuckled at the plant. It was the first sentient plant that hadn't tried to kill him right off the bat. He took another large piece of meat out of the bag and handed it to one of his curious vines, which carried it to the hungry spore's 'mouth'. Ryker slid away from the edge, and stood up, his right leg a bit sore from being yanked. He slipped his backpack on, and still head a piece of jerky in his mouth to eat. He grabbed his rifle by the forward grip,a nd began walking down the stairs, a bit calmer about the plant that sat below him.

Soon enough, he reached the bottom floor, and the Spore didn't seem to mind him stepping on the vines. They were very resilient, and his light steps didn't faze them. Ryker held up one last piece of jerky for the plant to have, just to make sure it was happy. One of the vines reached out and took it softly from his hands, and another vine came to help tear the piece of meat in half, handing the other half back to Ryker. He smiled and patted the large spore on it's green side. "Thanks, big guy."

Another one of his vines reached out, and opened the door in front of Ryker, showing the dark first floor. Ryker walked forward, and felt one of the vines pat him gently on the back, mimicking the same pat he gave the plant. Ryker gave another chuckled, before the plant gurgled a farewell and shut the door. The smile faded off of Ryker's face as he held up his hand, lighting up the surrounding room. It was covered in a thick coat of dust, and the glass storefront shined in the dim light. Ryker walked over to the front door, shutting off his light checking the street for any dangers.

---

How the Darklings had found him while he was pissing was beyond him. Ryker had walked another few blocks, and finally had Central Park in sight, far off in the distance. He figured he would take a quick piss, until a roaming pack of Darklings, whom had grown more active, ambushed him. A few of them got some nice hits on him, resulting in a nice gash or two on his right leg, and a large cut on the back of his left calve. His resilient backpack had managed to shrug off most of the talons that came it's way, also keeping those talons out of his back. Nonetheless, they had chased him down a few blocks, with Ryker taking a few shots at them that did nothing more than attract a larger number of them. He made into a large building, with the Refuge and it's accompanying explosions and gunfire visible at less than a mile away. The grounds surrounding the wall were impeccably clear of most plant life. Ryker had managed to throw a decent amount of junk and furniture in front of the front door, only for a few Darklings to jump through the windows, and chase him up stairs, until he blocked another door with more furniture. He was now stranded on the second floor of a building, his objective in sight, with his ravenous death waiting for him on the other side of a door.

As he panted to catch his breath, he turned his radio on, and managing to pant out the words "M-Mia. Ryker here."

"Oh hey! How goes the mission?" Mia replied cheerfully.

"Not so good." He panted. An explosion erupted and ratted the building a bit.

"Whoa, what was that! What did you do??" Mia squeaked.

"Me? I didn't do anything! That's the Refuge. They're shelling the shit out of a herd of Darklings. Little fuckers trapped me on the second floor of this building, it'll be a bit until I get to the objective." He muttered, rifle pointed at the covered door.

"We can send a rescue team, Ryker." Mia said, her pitch deepening a bit more serious.

"Nah, don't bother, I'll get out of here, don't waste the manpower. They'll get shredded. Oh, I got some intel for you, too."

"Oh!" Mia chirped."What is it?"

"The Refuge's defenses appear to be much heavier than we expected.. Massive walls, Mounted gun nests littered all over the place. I don't know if it's mines or artillery or what, but something is blowing the shit out of that Darkling herd, and it's persistent." Almost to punctuate his sentence, another explosion rattled the building.

"They seem to burn all plant life around their walls. It's hard to tell from this distance, but that's what it looks like. Completely unobstructed view. I think they have a moat, too, but I wouldn't trust it. That's some medieval shit." He said, shuffling over to the windows.

"Oohhh, interesting." Mia said, seeming to be writing down everything he said."Anything else?"

"Oh yeah, at uhh....53rd and Roster, there is an apartment building. Inside it is a Polymelia-Class plant spore."

"Need it destroyed?

"No no no, it's friendly. First one I've found. Feed it meat and it seems to enjoy it. It seems to learn fast, as it mimicked some of my movements."

"Ooooohhhh!" Mia exclaimed excitedly 'I'll tell the scientists immediately!" she chirped.

"I'll be notifying the scientists at the Refuge as well, if they have any. I hope you understand."

"That's alright." Mia said happily. "We don't have any reason to distrust them. Yet."

"Roger that. Ryker out."

"Bye!"

The radio switched off.

Ryker peered out of the window at the Refuge in the distance. He saw a massive amount of Darklings converging around it's perimeter, and the explosions remained constant, with the machine gun nests ripping open endlessly on the herd. If he ever made it to the Refuge, he was sure in for one hell of a grand tour.

Deadland Wasteland. [Beware Zombies! They Bite!]

Hey, Aeon. YOu never added Kapuchu or I to the cast. Just noticed.

Deadland Wasteland. [Beware Zombies! They Bite!]

Posted in the IC! Hope you guys enjoy it!

Deadland Wasteland. [Beware Zombies! They Bite!]

"You come from this direction, they're probably expect you to be coming out of the Wildlands, but considering this place is an island, they won't have much room to make any assumptions. The Refuge should be about an hour or 2 in that direction, to the east."

The boat's captain raised an arm, and pointed his old finger past Ryker, behind him. A conscript finally finished giving Ryker all of his equipment, handing him Isabella, his trusty rifle. He had fitted it with the longer barrel and an ACOG scope sat atop the rail on top. Ryker put the sling around his neck, completing his complete set of combat and survival equipment.

"You should be able to communicate with command with the radio we installed into your left arm. Be sure to keep us updated often. You go quiet for too long, we're going to have to send out search teams. If you're trying to keep your cover up, rescue teams won't help that." The captain gave him a tired smile, before standing to salute. "May the Silver Hand Guide you." His medals glistened in the sun. The conscripts on board the patrol boat all also stood at attention.

Ryker stood up straight and saluted the crew and Captain. "May the Hand guide you all back safely."

The Captain relaxed, and the crew all followed suit, returning to their assorted posts. "Good luck, Ryker. If anyone can do it, it's you." The captain said.

Ryker smiled. 'Thank you, sir." He nodded his head. The splash shields on the side of the boat began to rise, and the Captain remained standing, facing him. Ryker gave one last wave before he turned, and started walking down the pier he stood on, towards the main docks. He could hear the boat's engine roar to life, and starting revving, the water splashing as the boat sped away from the dock. He was on his own now. No more friendlies, only him.

Rotting, overgrown stalls still stood on the boardwalk that Ryker walked down. Their fabrics of fading colors flapped in the slight breeze that blew past them, with discarded stuffed animals and paper cups littering the boardwalk everywhere. To Ryker's right was a large, rusting ferris wheel creaking from it's movement. He put the hood on his trench coat up around his head, and his arms fell to Isabella. He watched as his cloth wrapped arms lifted the rifle up, his fingers finding the safety and flipping it off. Pulling the charging handle back, he heard the bullet chamber, and let the rifle hang around his neck with one hand still on the handle, finger resting on the trigger guard.

His eyes shifted to his left hand, watching it's every twitch and fidget. He was still puzzled as how he felt anything with robotic arms, but remembered what the scientist explained to him. Something about a thin membrane network over most of the arm that sent signals that allowed to him feel. Medical sciences were child's play to him, but Robotic science was a whole new book. He sighed, and pulled his head back up, his walking pace starting up again. He brought his left arm up to his face, and activated his radio.

"Command, this is Romeo Bravo, establishing comms." His voice was still deep and tired, lifeless.

It took a moment, but the operator on the other end responded in his ear bud. "Oh, hey there Ryker! Comms established! Got any questions?" The voice that answered him was a high pitched one, a bit too cheery for Ryker's liking.

"The captain never briefed me on the ROE's." He said quietly, scanning his surroundings. His index finger skirted the trigger guard of his rifle.

"Ah! Well, you're not allowed to fire upon Silver Hand under any circumstances. If possible, avoid firing upon any sort UNAR-affiliated troops as much as you can. Try your best to avoid to shoot any SRF or RA troops, but it's not a huge deal if you can't. Tribals are all weapons free if provoked. Survivalists are expendable, and I'd be surprised if you didn't shoot any of those Loyals."

Ryker sighed at the complacency for civilian deaths by his higher-ups. If the Silver Hand were going to get any sort of heavy influence on the region, they were going to have to start respecting the Tribals and Survivalists more. Even is he wasn't identifiable as Silver Hand, if he was made, any kills he had would fall upon the Silver Hand. "What about Apocanites and Centurians?"

The woman didn't respond for a moment. "Uh.. it doesn't say. That's odd. They aren't usually in those parts, but if you come across any, just try not to shoot them unless they shoot at you first." She giggled. "I didn't get to introduce myself. I'm Mia, and I'll be your personal handler. I'll be here just about any time of the day to help you in your mission, give you some information, or to receive any information you have to report the Silver Hand. I hope we have a happy little partnership!"

Ryker peeked into the dark window, the barrel of this rifle jutting slightly into the darkness. He scanned, and his flashlight slowly rose out of the back of his hand from under a sliding panel. It illuminated the dark room in front of him, and reveal nothing. Once he was sure there was nothing, he continued down the street, eyeing around the street. A stoic expression was cemented in his face. "Ditto." He muttered lifelessly into his radio.

"You know you don't have to hold the microphone so close to your mouth." Mia said with a giggle. "I can hear you just fine with your arm to your side. Just remember not to keep your radio on for too long, it might use quite a bit of your energy,"

"Then how will I know you're trying to contact me?" Ryker said quietly, shifting up to the corner of a building. Mia spoke as he peered around the corner.

"Oh, you'll know. You'll get a very distinct sensation in your arm when I'm calling you."

The street was silent, and Ryker had a long walk through Old Manhattan before he reached The Refuge.

"Well, this is Romeo Bravo, out."

"Out!" Mia replied cheerfully, before Ryker shut off his radio.

He continued down the street, eyeing the large plant that covered the road in front of him. What used to be a T-Intersection in the old world was now a T-Intersection with the massive root of an even more massive plant that has burrowed it's way into one of the taller building on the block. Many, smaller sections of plant branched off of the main stem, all covered in an assortment of various colors, with leaves falling off of it every and again. Ryker simply stood in admiration before the massive plant, which at it's highest point sprouted over, with huge pollen tubes lazily rising out of the top. It's massive root, although, was the more important of Ryker's problems. It was too tall to climb without being a pain in the ass, as most of it's area was covered in thorns. He'd have to go around, but it would probably be a long walk. "Fuck."

---

Ryker had moved to one of the buildings that the pant's roots had grown around, climbing up the vine covered fire escape. Sounds of metal on metal impact filled the quiet air as he pulled himself up the shaky ladders. Snap. The ladder gave way. It was to be expected, as old as it was, but it still took Ryker by surprise. His left hand slammed into the walls, as spikes emerged from his palm, drilling into the wall. Ryker's fall stopped abruptly, pain radiating from his shoulder. His feet came up under hum, his boots scraping on the brick wall as he tried desperately to support himself. Isabella hang from around his neck, softly swinging and bumping into him. A guttural growl escaped his lips as he pulled on his left arm, trying to reach the platform above him, before his gaze turned down to see that the platform he had passed before was inches below his feet. He couldn't help by smirk as he lowered himself down, his arm releasing it's hold on the wall and the drills retracted. He cringed as he stretched his left arm out, rotating it around. "Fuck me." He muttered under his breath. He looked up, seeing his drill holes in the wall.

I really wish my other arm could do that.

Deadland Wasteland. [Beware Zombies! They Bite!]

Uhh, check the timeline Kapuchu. I don't think you have it right.

Deadland Wasteland. [Beware Zombies! They Bite!]

Well Pathfinder, there are 2 slots left, if I recall correctly, and you would be the 4th person to be competing to get in one of those slots, so you better churn out that app and hope Aeon likes it!

Deadland Wasteland. [Beware Zombies! They Bite!]

I made some minor changes to my app, just changed the gear to where my character's handgun is in a chest holster and his shotgun is folded on this thigh.