OPTIONS:
WAKING UP
You wake up in a studio in an apartment building that's got windows all boarded up. You remember being sick, you remember dying, and you probably can't believe this is the afterlife. If you head out into the hall you'll see that others are heading out too, looking just as confused as you are. All of you died, most of you of the same thing. If you head down to the front office, you'll meet a native resident who will explain in brief that you're in Aqora, a settlement living among the undead and that people like you show up every so often. You'll be given an informational pamphlet, a shitty cell phone, and a walkie. Then you'll be expected to figure it out. No one has time to hold your hand.
EXPLORING
Miscellaneous things here: shops and restaurants turned into places to live, apartments full of people living day to day, the main focus (the library) being the hub where people come to learn and children go to school. Because school never ends, even in the apocalypse. Feel free to buddy up with other newcomers to figure out what the hell is going on.
OR, say you've been here a while. It's time to figure out how to get more supplies! Let's go on a supply run. You'll just be heading out past the barricades to start, and you'll have to dig through buildings to try and find things. If you're lucky, maybe you'll hit a cache. If you're unlucky, you'll find too many undead to fight. No one goes out alone though, so hopefully your partner can help.
"NETWORK"
Someone has set up a rudimentary network using the nearest cell towers. You can communicate with others in the area but only via voice and text. Anything further out is voice only via walkies. You can have a username or leave it blank.
Have fun, campers. |
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thebreathing2017-06-15 05:10 pm
exploring;
[ Steve can build a bazooka from parts he recognizes, but not from scraps, and is eager to learn. He comes over and grabs the can opener, peering at what she's working on right now. ]
You had to do this kinda thing a lot where you're from?
no subject
More often than none. Everyone's got a gift. Don't know why my grade school teachers never let me enter the talent show with mine.
[She finishes sealing up her shrapnel bomb tight, inspects her handiwork, and sets it aside. She points at some of the supplies around her.]
Cans, opener, lighter, rubbin' alcohol. Then you get to pick your choice of ammo. That's the fun part. Just think of any ol' thing you can fit into these cans. The world's yer oyster.