Supermaxx

#StillNotBitten [Invite Only]

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_{Location: Rushford, Ohio -- Jenkins' Diner}

Date: May 15th, 2019

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Cassidy Montoya was growing restless. Ever since the start of the apocalypse she'd developed a routine to ensure her own survival: daytime was spent either scavenging for supplies or staying on the move, trying to make her way out of town. Nighttime, when the Dead were obscured by the dark, was when she'd hunker down and get a few hours' rest. It was draining, of course, but Cass figured it was her best chance at staying alive.

Ever since she'd wrapped herself with these other survivors, though, things had changed.

They didn't travel for as long as she would've liked. Took a little too long whenever they stopped to scavenge. Spent too much time resting or strategizing. It made her anxious. Every second they spent sitting around in this diner felt like a risk. What happened when that broadcast ended and the dead descended on them? There were too many to fight off, and the building didn't have enough exits for Cass's liking- if those things managed to surround the group before they could scamper away, they'd be royally fucked.

There were strength in numbers, but...why'd she get stuck with these guys?

"How much longer do we got before that broadcast ends?" She spoke up suddenly, turning to look up at Karen as she started to make her way toward the kitchen. Cass had collapsed up against the diner's far wall when they first arrived, setting her overstuffed bag down beside her so she could use it as a makeshift pillow. Now that they were talking about actually picking through the supplies and moving out, though, Montoya was quick to get back to her feet.

"I don't like the idea of waitin' another hour fer the next one 'fore we get outta here. There's way too many'a those things right outside to risk it."

She glanced briefly at the other members of their little troupe, trying to calculate how the four of them would do if they ended up cornered. All of 'em were armed to some level, and at least appeared to be healthy and active; neither of those would matter much if they didn't have the stomach for a fight with, y'know, the living dead. Not that Montoya could really blame 'em or anything. She was still having trouble accepting that this wasn't a fucked up fever dream or a trip gone horribly wrong.

Sooner we get to that camp the better. We'll be able to wait this shitstorm out there, n' maybe...maybe Riley'll have made it out there too.

#StillNotBitten [Invite Only]

Gonna get a post up today, sorry for the wait duderinos.

Titans: A DC Comics Roleplay

I actually made them properly sized headers like four or six hours ago, @ComradeMaxx

@Inkarnate

You say properly sized, I say 'boringly similar.' My work is ARTFUL and ECCENTRIC.

Titans: A DC Comics Roleplay

DAMN YOU, GOWI.

Titans: A DC Comics Roleplay

<Snipped quote by ComradeMaxx>

@Lord Wraith

Damn you, Canada Man

Titans: A DC Comics Roleplay

I made ya'll some quick and dirty headers because I'm shit at editing and couldn't do any better. Don't have to use 'em, tho, cuz its a free country and shit

Image Dump

Polaris: A New Anchorage Story

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Smith's Rest | HQ Tram Station
January 16th, 2677

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Demetrius stood near the back of the group, his shoulders hunched and his head held low. The strap over his chest was digging uncomfortably into his skin, weighed down by the heavy bag resting around his lower back. One of his headphones had been brushed to the side so he could at least hear what was going on around him, though Solon obviously wasn't paying all that much attention. His eyes were down on his boots, tracing over their many flaws: stains in the dark leather, a patched over hole or two, a clump of some unknown material still stuck on the bottom that refused to be washed off. They'd seen better days, that much was certain.

'Guess we all have, though.' He silently mused. 'Some more than others.'

The voice of his new XO briefly drew Demi's attention back to the moment at hand, answering some question or other by another pilot. An explanation of what, precisely, New Anchorage was meant to be. A coalition of independent settlements was a novel concept. Not a unique one, he knew, but one that didn't tend to last all that long. Small communes could survive on their own fairly well by ducking under the radar of raiders, but they were little more than agrarian survivalist colonies. True settlements of any kind of size had to rely on corporations for trade and security- standing alone they'd either starve or get bulldozed over by marauders, or any of the other, innumerable threats that roamed the Wastelands.

He had heard stories of burgeoning micro-nations, however, in places like Afrika and Asia, where there was such a vast landmass that states could survive without making contact with corporations for decades. When they did make contact, though...they didn't tend to last a whole lot longer.

Clearing his throat, Demi spoke up, his curiosity getting the better of his desire to remain unnoticed. "What do ya mean by 'key threats?' Last I checked there was nothin' but snow and trees out here 'till ya hit the horizon."

His first thought was irradiated wildlife, or maybe a cabal of raiders or two. But that didn't quite line up with the facts. Anchorage had hired out at least six new NC pilots. That was a ridiculous amount of firepower by any standard, enough to go toe to toe with all but a professional military force. Graham mentioned that they'd been surviving by the 'skin of their teeth' before, so something prompted them to invest so heavily into security. Demi didn't know much about this commander, but he didn't look like the kinda idiot to waste resources.

'Just what the hell's out here that could spook these guys so bad?'

Titans: A DC Comics Roleplay

IC's open, bitches

Titans: A DC Comics Roleplay

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_{Location: New York City, New York -- A Rooftop}

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New York City covered an area of about three hundred square miles and contained over eight million people. Enormous machines transported them across the city in underground tunnels- those that couldn't afford the smaller, personalized vehicles, at least. Structures towered above them all, the tallest of them stretched up to grasp the clouds, forming what the humans called a 'skyline.'

As obnoxious as Kelex's lessons were, Conner had to admit they were helpful.

Conner Kent sat on the edge of an apartment building's rooftop, his legs dangling precariously over the side. Dozens of humans passed by underneath him, rushing along the sidewalk in a terrible hurry to get somewhere else. There was one older man talking on the phone as he went, desperately trying to convince someone named 'Abby' not to get on the plane before he had a chance to say goodbye. Just in front of him a woman was dragging two crying kids along behind, both of them alternating between hitting her and then hitting each other. A yellow bus was being loaded with similarly sized children at the end of the street.

'Its all so...loud.' Honking cars, screaming people, radios being played too loud. He didn't know how anyone could live in a place like this without going crazy. It wasn't anything like the Fortress, or the farm. Conner could sit at the edge of a field at the farm and hear the grass blowing in the wind, the chirping of distant birds and the sound of a mole burrowing his way through the earth. He could tell the dripping water coming from the kitchen sink's facet from the pitcher pump in Martha's garden.

Here, though, there was just too much. There were a thousand disparate sounds going off at any given moment, all of them vying for his attention. It was giving him a headache; at one point it got so bad that Conner felt like his skull might explode from the pressure. It'd been even worse when he was on the ground earlier. He was just trying to walk around and check off all the places he'd visited in his booklet, but people kept yelling at him for bumping into them and crossing the street in front of their vehicles.

"Hmph," He grunted at the thought, pulling the crumpled booklet from his pocket to flip through it again. So far he'd marked off the statue, the park, the empire's building and the time square. It also recommended stopping for sustenance at noon, though Conner still wasn't sure if he actually needed to eat or not. Kal-El and the Kents had insisted he eat at consistent intervals, but if Conner really was a Kryptonian, wasn't that a waste of time?

His thoughts were interrupted by a terrible boom that shook the building underneath him and sent a stabbing pain through his ears.

"What was that?" Conner snarled, dragging himself to his feet as he tried to ignore the jackhammer in his skull. It sounded like thunder, but it was far more intense than any he'd heard before. And closer, too- like it'd come from the ground instead of the sky. He waited for the ringing in his ears to cease before stumbling in the direction of the sound, trying to focus on anything else coming from that way.

People were screaming, some in languages he'd never heard before. Cars were coming to a grinding halt and slamming down on their horns. He could hear concrete collapsing and glass shattering, too. Was a building coming down?

'Sounds like a job for Superman...Guess I'll have to do, though.'

Titans: A DC Comics Roleplay

dabbin on u rn