CrimethinkRebel
12-12-2009, 01:18 AM
Atropa Belladona
A Literate Role Play
GM: CrimethinkRebel
Rated M for Mature:
Excessive violence; strong/controversial themes; sexuality; harsh language; gore
Please be 18 or older!
Or a very mature 17...
[ OOC (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=1402) ]
Slants of sunlight splintered the air like arrows, raining down onto the dead, corroded world below. Years ago, this populous area was known as the Urban Jungle and now more than ever did the name apply. Half-eaten skyscrapers stood in stubborn refusal to let the past fade. Streets of tar and concrete were consumed by grass and weed, the battle lost long ago. Animals traversed the landscape without fear, immune to stabbing memory of something that once was great but now is nothing more than a fallen empire. This was New York City, or, as it was more often called out of necessity, Zone TM5.
A war had been waged and won; humans were not the victor. The splendor of their marvelous cities was conquered by Mother Earth. The multitudes of people were decimated with biblical proportions. Their history was burned to the ground and from its ashes grew forth a new era where Nature's Kingdom held illimitable dominion over all. In the aftermath, the humans found that their new tyrant was a kind one. The technologies which were fueled by the sun and other renewable resources thrived, still used by the pitiful amount of humans left alive. The underground structures that escaped the destruction provided a safe haven, away from the clutches of Gaia. Life was a blessing, taxed by the new monarch of the Earth. There was no hope for rebellion here. The chance for survival came at a high cost, but Man took what he could, respecting the awesome power which now controlled his existence.
There was a certain schedule the vast majority of survivors adhered to as it proved the safest and most efficient way to live: You traveled as fast and as far as you could. When you arrived, you made camp. When camp was made, you gathered food and replenished your supplies. Then you'd sleep. For most, this was 3 to 6 hours, before rising only to begin the cycle again. There were a few brave and lucky fellows that found homes in the subways and bomb shelters of old. The airtight regions available were sparse and often passed over. Not many wanted to risk being caught amidst the Nightshade.
As the sun warmed the air, its rise having long since passed, a small fleet of ships took port on the coastline. Captained by leaders of various nomadic clans, they were the mobile homes of what was left of Homo sapien. Gaggles of people rushed off the boats, scouring the land for food, water, clothing and shelter. There were a numerous injured and several who had fallen ill. The latter were forcibly exiled, being killed upon site if they refused to leave. The last people off the boats were the leaders, filling each other in on current events. There were three new pregnancies.
In this dire world, the chance at new, untainted life was the last glimmer of hope that humans allowed themselves to indulge in. True, there was pressure among the women to reproduce and families as they were once known had begun to dissolve, but the children were revered. They were the future of the race. Crimes against them were punished by the worst of fates: Exposure to the Deadly Nightshade.
Unique to this voyage across the sea, one woman had bartered her way to the continent and was now taking her leave from the secretive and judgmental fleet. They had not taken kindly to her request, but she offered them critical health care supplies that they most desperately needed, and thus here she was.
Her name was Talia Lawson and she hailed from Zone TZ, what was once known as England, London specifically. Her unique situation was hastily explained to the inquisitive passengers, though she gave them a highly revised version. They believed she had been living underground for a few months and her home was compromised so she needed to begin migrating again. She told them about her background in sciences, but limited it to nothing more than a hobby. Miss Lawson made no mention of the journals in which Dr. Monroe had detailed the various discoveries he'd made regarding Nightshade.
There was nobody she could trust amongst those barbarians. They were too far gone. They had forgotten the old ways of civilization and culture. They wouldn't understand...
A Literate Role Play
GM: CrimethinkRebel
Rated M for Mature:
Excessive violence; strong/controversial themes; sexuality; harsh language; gore
Please be 18 or older!
Or a very mature 17...
[ OOC (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=1402) ]
Slants of sunlight splintered the air like arrows, raining down onto the dead, corroded world below. Years ago, this populous area was known as the Urban Jungle and now more than ever did the name apply. Half-eaten skyscrapers stood in stubborn refusal to let the past fade. Streets of tar and concrete were consumed by grass and weed, the battle lost long ago. Animals traversed the landscape without fear, immune to stabbing memory of something that once was great but now is nothing more than a fallen empire. This was New York City, or, as it was more often called out of necessity, Zone TM5.
A war had been waged and won; humans were not the victor. The splendor of their marvelous cities was conquered by Mother Earth. The multitudes of people were decimated with biblical proportions. Their history was burned to the ground and from its ashes grew forth a new era where Nature's Kingdom held illimitable dominion over all. In the aftermath, the humans found that their new tyrant was a kind one. The technologies which were fueled by the sun and other renewable resources thrived, still used by the pitiful amount of humans left alive. The underground structures that escaped the destruction provided a safe haven, away from the clutches of Gaia. Life was a blessing, taxed by the new monarch of the Earth. There was no hope for rebellion here. The chance for survival came at a high cost, but Man took what he could, respecting the awesome power which now controlled his existence.
There was a certain schedule the vast majority of survivors adhered to as it proved the safest and most efficient way to live: You traveled as fast and as far as you could. When you arrived, you made camp. When camp was made, you gathered food and replenished your supplies. Then you'd sleep. For most, this was 3 to 6 hours, before rising only to begin the cycle again. There were a few brave and lucky fellows that found homes in the subways and bomb shelters of old. The airtight regions available were sparse and often passed over. Not many wanted to risk being caught amidst the Nightshade.
As the sun warmed the air, its rise having long since passed, a small fleet of ships took port on the coastline. Captained by leaders of various nomadic clans, they were the mobile homes of what was left of Homo sapien. Gaggles of people rushed off the boats, scouring the land for food, water, clothing and shelter. There were a numerous injured and several who had fallen ill. The latter were forcibly exiled, being killed upon site if they refused to leave. The last people off the boats were the leaders, filling each other in on current events. There were three new pregnancies.
In this dire world, the chance at new, untainted life was the last glimmer of hope that humans allowed themselves to indulge in. True, there was pressure among the women to reproduce and families as they were once known had begun to dissolve, but the children were revered. They were the future of the race. Crimes against them were punished by the worst of fates: Exposure to the Deadly Nightshade.
Unique to this voyage across the sea, one woman had bartered her way to the continent and was now taking her leave from the secretive and judgmental fleet. They had not taken kindly to her request, but she offered them critical health care supplies that they most desperately needed, and thus here she was.
Her name was Talia Lawson and she hailed from Zone TZ, what was once known as England, London specifically. Her unique situation was hastily explained to the inquisitive passengers, though she gave them a highly revised version. They believed she had been living underground for a few months and her home was compromised so she needed to begin migrating again. She told them about her background in sciences, but limited it to nothing more than a hobby. Miss Lawson made no mention of the journals in which Dr. Monroe had detailed the various discoveries he'd made regarding Nightshade.
There was nobody she could trust amongst those barbarians. They were too far gone. They had forgotten the old ways of civilization and culture. They wouldn't understand...