Raid — Roleplayer Guild

I agree with the time line; it's realistic. (I have a tendency to get riled up when people think hiking is super easy and doing 25 miles in one day takes only a few hours--a lot of t.v shows/movies have a tendency to do this.)

Don't worry about the lack of description with the raft! It's hard to avoid information dumps sometimes, but you've been balancing your writing well. (So, the pods are inside the dome, btw?) Besides this is a test run, anyways. Things will work themselves out.

As for having the survivors in space, I think it makes sense. Because the scientists might not be able to predict everything that will occur when the meteors hit earth, so they would want to put the teams in a place where they would be the most secure and stable. Thus in orbit. Something to consider, though is maybe the guide not waking the other occupants up until they're closer to land? But that's just something for a later time/group to worry about. It helps cut out the random floating time and allows the characters to be distracted by other things rather then themselves in a boat in the open sea. Ya get what I mean?

Happy you like the t-shirt touch. :) It's amazing what getting matching t-shirt for a group will do! Have you ever heard of character interrogation? It's essentially what you did in the CS where you had the questions for the characters to answer. I find doing a few sessions of just dialogue like that really helps me understand my characters and flesh them out without having to add a shit ton to their history or something like that.

Happy writing. :)

You Requested a Wake up Call.

The air tastes like summer camp. Sea and sweat and fuzzy teeth. Saito tries to turn to his side, but his hand knocks against something hard, probably the edge of the bunks the counselors sleep in. He paws around for the sheet. It must have fallen off sometime in the night. He ends up knocking his hand around before he sits up to peer on the floor to see if it dropped. He hates sleeping without a blanket. At JDC it got him into a bit of trouble, but he just can’t kick the habit. Maybe it is because there, during his time in detox and groups and service, that he needed something to comfort him. His mom brought him the woven-cotton blanket they use when they go to the beach during one of her visits. It smelled so good he wouldn’t let the staff wash it until some asswipe got a hold of it and pissed all over it.

Saito rubs at his eyes; he is having trouble getting the sleep out of the corners. Things are white and he keeps swaying. “Jesus,” he swears, resting a hand on the mattress to steady himself. It doesn’t work. His fingers twitch. The mattress is too comfortable. There is no lumps of bunched up fabric. He can’t feel the splintering wood. And he is positive that it’s not him that’s swaying. He opens his eyes.

Starring back at him in the reflection of the glass was a curved and elongated portrait of himself. His gages are black smears and his mouth open. He closes it.
“Hey, are you okay?” He looks up. Standing over him is a skinny girl with braids and a jeweled bindi between her eyebrows. Her hands are gripping the edges of his…bed? He doesn’t answer her, just looks around. Thick as any autumn morning fog, he can only see the red and blue of the rafts as waves rock them. He’s sitting up in a pod, wearing clothes that look like something those wannabe outdoors people buy at REI. He doesn’t like the fabric of his pants. The shirt on the girl has bold lettering that says “Team Georgia.” He looks down. His shirt has the same print.

Someone retches in the other boat.

The girl reaches down. Saito flinches away before she can touch him. “Yeah, fine,” he replies. “Who are you?” He drags a hand through his hair. It feels stiff with sweat. He must have forgotten to shower before he went to bed after he got back from the gym— “What’s going on?”

She smiles with her forehead wrinkles like she is crying. “You don’t know either?” Crumpling against the side of his pod, her sobs join the dry heaves of another person. The ocean and fog is a soft caress that is not comforting. It is like when his father would try to explain away his parents harsh judgments after he came back from JDC. The late night cartoons on the TV as he cringes away from the pathetic excuses. He doesn’t comfort the girl. He braces his knees against the sides of the pod and squeezes his hands together. The back of his throat slick with need and want of a pill or a drink. He hangs his head, shame hot in his stomach.

)o(
Maybaleen opens her eyes. Heart fast and erratic. She listens for Harrison’s cries. He was just crying. She is sure of it. It smells like he’s been crying for hours. She couldn’t have drank that much, right? But everything is muffled inside…inside. Why is she inside, but can see the sky? She reaches up, fingers brushing against harsh metal before it springs away. She gasps. Salt heavy on her tongue like she just ordered a margarita at the bar. Except she hates margaritas. A rush of wind and Maybaleen realizes just how outside she really is. A wave knocks her against the walls of the enclosed bed.

Is this the ocean? she thinks. Her face feels heavy and oily. She wants to take a shower. Someone gags next to her. He dangles with half of his bulky body outside of the bed. Every muscle tense in his forearms as he throws up. She grips the tall edges of the bed. The metal is wet and cool. It’s like waking up early to work on her truck with the early morning dew dripping off its candy red paint. Her knees pop as she stumbles on the cushy raft. Her shoes are too tight and they are clunky. Boots. Kinda like the one’s Kim always wears when he goes backpacking.

The guy heaves again.

“Alright, alright.” Maybaleen grabs a hold of an arm and pulls. She grunts and his hands slip on the metal. “Woah, there, honey, let’s try not to bring us both down, kay?” Her accent swirls through the air on droplets of water. She thinks about how bad her hair is going to frizz in this weather.

“Come on,” she says, trying to pull him out of the bed. For being built, he shakes like a colt standing up for the first time.

“Well this ain’t gunna work,” she grunts. A wave makes them stumble back against the pod. “Aw, hell,” she cruses. She glances around and tries to ignore the ocean (Suddenly, her old plans with Kim to go to the beach seems ridiculous. She would have hated the beach.)

“Hey, Ya’ll gimme a hand, won’t you?” she calls out. She’s not sure if there’s other people in the beds next to her or if there are others in the next raft, but the idea that there might not be people is petrifying. Like the desolate sea.

Raid Member

The Way Out

Status

Recent Statuses

Bio

Most Recent Posts