My wife, Mrs Rage, gets them so bad from time to time that she goes partially to completely blind. Its great fun!
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The Maker, only moments before attempting to move on and work his way towards the location of the light display, found himself quite squarely on his ass. The sudden impact of MinuteMan's descent back to earth had thrown him completely. Not only did it take him off of his balance, but the old man's impact with the earth had winded him too.
The maker was a relatively low level hero, his powers did not lend themselves to the heroic. William still wasn't entirely sure that he truly had powers, but all the same, he was counted amongst the heroes for his ability to build things, take things apart, or salvage things. As such, he was a little known amongst the hero circles by heroes high and low because he provided a service few could offer. Given the resources he could make things out of the normal realm of possibility for someone working with their hands, and in record timeframes. So he was a little surprised that he didn't recognize the leather masked man that just plummeted to their aid from who knows where. William looked him over carefully as he considered his answer. He wasn't a criminal, that was true, but was the MinuteMan? His asking the question eluded to him being not a criminal. The maker did notice, as he regained his breath and struggled to his feet, that Vivian had offered an answer faster than was normal... He made a note to keep an eye on her.
"I'm no criminal either," The Maker said through coughs. He worked his way towards the pile of fallen corpses and started putting a few more of them down, those that he could easily reach without risking getting pulled into the mass. A heavy hammer swing here, a heavy hammer swing there, the pitter patter of brain matter splatting on the road. "William Shoemaker, though most people call me The Maker for short. Kind of a biblical joke."
The maker was a relatively low level hero, his powers did not lend themselves to the heroic. William still wasn't entirely sure that he truly had powers, but all the same, he was counted amongst the heroes for his ability to build things, take things apart, or salvage things. As such, he was a little known amongst the hero circles by heroes high and low because he provided a service few could offer. Given the resources he could make things out of the normal realm of possibility for someone working with their hands, and in record timeframes. So he was a little surprised that he didn't recognize the leather masked man that just plummeted to their aid from who knows where. William looked him over carefully as he considered his answer. He wasn't a criminal, that was true, but was the MinuteMan? His asking the question eluded to him being not a criminal. The maker did notice, as he regained his breath and struggled to his feet, that Vivian had offered an answer faster than was normal... He made a note to keep an eye on her.
"I'm no criminal either," The Maker said through coughs. He worked his way towards the pile of fallen corpses and started putting a few more of them down, those that he could easily reach without risking getting pulled into the mass. A heavy hammer swing here, a heavy hammer swing there, the pitter patter of brain matter splatting on the road. "William Shoemaker, though most people call me The Maker for short. Kind of a biblical joke."
Look out! The shout came from Vivian as he finished up with the gore from the first scab. The second scab came in too close. He didn't have much time to think about his options, no real chance to counterattack, his best bet was a defensive move. He had forced himself into a corner with the vehicle wreckage that had hidden the scabs from view, so he couldn't simple duck and cover. The next best thing he had at his disposal was the corpse of the first scab. William grabbed the corps' arm and gave it a rough tug, drawing it directly into the path of the open jaws of the oncoming Zombie. Giving him something to gnaw on for a moment would give William the chance to counterattack. With his opportunity available to him now, The Maker once again wielded his tongs to grab hold of the lower jaw on the scab. With the sickening force of a man who had worked his whole life in construction and hobbying as a blacksmith he twisted the tongs attempting to rip loose the lower jaw of the remaining scab. The crunch was audible, though it remained attached. William tried it again this time with a grunt of exertion to aid in the effort, which was rewarded by nothing but a wheezing coughing fit.
Getting more leverage by putting one of his steel toed booted feet on the scabs shoulder he reaffirmed his grip and with one final jerk tore the lower jaw free from the scab. He tossed the jaw through the air with the effort, dropped his tongs with a clatter and with one large double handed swing of the hammer, The Maker delivered an uppercut blow through the roof of the mouth that sent the now liquified brains out of every other hole left in the head.
Breathing heavy he shook the gore from his hammer, picked up his tongs and did the same. He let out a sigh with the effort of bending over to grab his tongs. Well, The Maker said looking over at Vivian now that the immediate danger had passed, The names William Shoemaker, they call me The Maker for short. I imagine you're on your way towards that light show from last night. I'm headed there myself, shall we keep each other company for a while as we walk?
Of course he didn't mean with conversation, or anything else for that matter, but talking in the open was dangerous, the undead hordes were drawn to sound more than anything. Not waiting for a reply he started walking down the road in the direction of the arrows.
Getting more leverage by putting one of his steel toed booted feet on the scabs shoulder he reaffirmed his grip and with one final jerk tore the lower jaw free from the scab. He tossed the jaw through the air with the effort, dropped his tongs with a clatter and with one large double handed swing of the hammer, The Maker delivered an uppercut blow through the roof of the mouth that sent the now liquified brains out of every other hole left in the head.
Breathing heavy he shook the gore from his hammer, picked up his tongs and did the same. He let out a sigh with the effort of bending over to grab his tongs. Well, The Maker said looking over at Vivian now that the immediate danger had passed, The names William Shoemaker, they call me The Maker for short. I imagine you're on your way towards that light show from last night. I'm headed there myself, shall we keep each other company for a while as we walk?
Of course he didn't mean with conversation, or anything else for that matter, but talking in the open was dangerous, the undead hordes were drawn to sound more than anything. Not waiting for a reply he started walking down the road in the direction of the arrows.
yeah, crazy busy with work. I'm three hands short, with a fourth leaving and trying to train a replacement for one of the people gone. WAY busy!
Yeah, me too. I thought people were more interested in this than that. A little disappointing I think.
If people are wondering, perhaps, why there hasn't been too much information released about the environment, well simply put it is because with their memory gone, the characters will need to explore their environment for that information. As such, telling it to you in plain text right now would only lead to metagaming, I'm afraid. So, with that being said, I am still hoping to bring some people into this to get it going!
If people are wondering, perhaps, why there hasn't been too much information released about the environment, well simply put it is because with their memory gone, the characters will need to explore their environment for that information. As such, telling it to you in plain text right now would only lead to metagaming, I'm afraid. So, with that being said, I am still hoping to bring some people into this to get it going!
Another person? The maker thought as he saw Vivian come around the corner. No worries, we are both heading the same direction, safety in numbers. The makeshift weapon in her hand caught his eye, even more so when she used it to cleave a Zombie right in two. She seemed capable enough herself to not be a detriment. As the shattered glass opened up the way for more shamblers to make their way out into the street. Shoemaker turned towards the sound of scraping metal in time to see the two scabs making their way out of the wreckage.
"Not sure I'll have time to kill ya, even if I had wanted to," Maker said, his voice was tinny and flat through the welding mask. The runner taken care of by his new 'companion' William decided to focus on dealing with at least one of the scabs. Not known for anything other then being too hard to kill because of their metal skin, they were right up the hobby-smiths alley. Many a time had his tongs and hammer been used to force a shape into metal and brass was easier then most to manipulate with brute force. Taking a deep breath the maker charged at the closest scab with his tongs open and in each hand. First he slammed the tongs into the abominations neck pinning him against the same wreckage that it had pulled itself from. He locked the tongs so he could hold them in one hand and keep them tight around the Zombie's neck. He un-holstered the 30 pound blacksmith hammer at his hip and brought it down squarely over the eye of the metal skinned foe. A sound something between a clang and thud came from the Zombies head. One blow wasn't enough as it struggled against the tongs at its neck. A second strike, the same sound again. Giving a cough of effort, this was really starting to get too hard for a man his age, he repeated the blow again and again until finally the sound changed to something different, something wetter. A few more well placed blows he would let his weight off of the corps and search for whichever foe was closest to him now.
He had taken too long with the last one, he already knew.
"Not sure I'll have time to kill ya, even if I had wanted to," Maker said, his voice was tinny and flat through the welding mask. The runner taken care of by his new 'companion' William decided to focus on dealing with at least one of the scabs. Not known for anything other then being too hard to kill because of their metal skin, they were right up the hobby-smiths alley. Many a time had his tongs and hammer been used to force a shape into metal and brass was easier then most to manipulate with brute force. Taking a deep breath the maker charged at the closest scab with his tongs open and in each hand. First he slammed the tongs into the abominations neck pinning him against the same wreckage that it had pulled itself from. He locked the tongs so he could hold them in one hand and keep them tight around the Zombie's neck. He un-holstered the 30 pound blacksmith hammer at his hip and brought it down squarely over the eye of the metal skinned foe. A sound something between a clang and thud came from the Zombies head. One blow wasn't enough as it struggled against the tongs at its neck. A second strike, the same sound again. Giving a cough of effort, this was really starting to get too hard for a man his age, he repeated the blow again and again until finally the sound changed to something different, something wetter. A few more well placed blows he would let his weight off of the corps and search for whichever foe was closest to him now.
He had taken too long with the last one, he already knew.
SORRY ABOUT THE WAIT FOLKS! Posting right now!
@Rune_Alchemist Sinclair is cleared for take off. Please post her in the Character Section. Also, love the avatar.
Hey no worries.
@adparis At this point I have the 3-5 players that I wanted. I am not opposed to adding more at a later date. you know discover more people in chrio-freeze or assuming they ever get the ship up and running picking up a new crewman at port or something like that. So if you feel like sitting back and watching how it rolls, we can discuss you joining at a later time if you like!
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