Trackers of the Wasteland ~City~
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Light =&gt; Light: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Kiric Rand on 21-12-2009, 00:19:55</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Trackers of the Wasteland ~City~</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kiric Rand</strong> on <strong>21-12-2009, 00:19:55</strong>
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				<span style="font-size: 12pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>This board is for use in the Trackers of the Wasteland RP for events taht take place in the city only.</strong></span>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Trackers of the Wasteland ~City~</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kiric Rand</strong> on <strong>21-12-2009, 00:27:38</strong>
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				The sun was already setting by the time the new sounds of a motorcycle echoed through the streets of St. Louis. Just freshly reclaimed from the zombie hordes, it looked more like a ghost town that an actually city. Sure, a few small salons and hotels had popped up, but most business were still empty. Nothing like a fresh city to get started.<br><br>A lone zombie knelt in the middle of the street, feasting on his latest victim. the reeving of a motor caught its attention, and it stood just in time to "see" a black motorcycle with a burning skull insignia drive by. Well, it didn't actually see the bike, but it saw the baseball bat that hit it, causing it to do a full flip before hitting the ground. The owner of the bike stopped, tossing the bat in the small trailer he was towing. He wore a black, tattered vest, a black helmet with a frozen star painted on it, blue jeans and a t-shirt. Slung at both sides of his waist were a pair of sawed-off shotguns, and slung across his back was a guitar. "Damned fleshmunchers. Seems the Sentinels haven't finished their clean up yet." The figure pulled one of his guns and ended the creatures unlife before strolling into the nearby bar. He walked over to a cornor booth, removed his helmet and unslung his guitar. "Hey barkeep, get me a scotch, straight."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Trackers of the Wasteland ~City~</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Abanu</strong> on <strong>21-12-2009, 22:08:20</strong>
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				Empty, lifeless buildings whizzed by as Todd speed down the abandon streets of St. Louis. His long brown duster flapped in the wind, his cowboy hat barley staying on his head. He'd stopped believing in helmets. He figured if he had to go down, he didn't mind losing his head, better than being zombie chow and becoming one of the walking meat sacks. <br><br>He slowed as he heard the sound of another bike engine. As he made a left turn, he noticed another biker play mailbox baseball with a deady's head. He frowned at the familiar site of the head flattening and shattering easily, dark coagulated blood exploding with rotten gray matter on the street. It was a good hit.<br><br>He grimaced, he suddenly was seeing the biker splatter the zombie again, but this time it was Sara who was kneeling on the ground. He reached in a saddle bag and pulled out a bottle of Jack. He used it to chase off these images and to keep him... <em>Fuck, empty.</em> He slowly urged his chopper forward. He looked at the battered corpse in the street and broke the empty bottle on the asphalt.&nbsp; He stopped the bike walked over to the body the zombie had been feasting on and jabbed the jagged glass through the head, just to make sure the poor sap didn't get up and start looking for a snack. <br><br>He walked his bike up to the bar. He slung a large military style duffel bag he'd liberated from a Sentinel back in Boston over his shoulder and walked in and up to the bar. <br><br>"Yo keep, I need a bottle of Jack and a glass." He tried to take note of the other people in the bar. He noted the other biker, but didn't keep scanning. He paid for his booze and found a seat to start chasing his demons away.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Trackers of the Wasteland ~City~</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>LIAR</strong> on <strong>22-12-2009, 03:27:28</strong>
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				<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">A tongue darted out, licking full lips in anticipation. Steam wafted upwards, bringing heat and the delicious scent of cooked meat and vegitables. There was a low moan of delight before the woman took her first, full bite of the meal. <br><br><em>'That's the stuff,'</em> she thought, closing her eyes. She grinned as she chewed. Too long, she had been on the road. Her clothes were dusty from travel and face brown from sun. But she was alive, she was well, and she was now filling her belly full of hot food. What more could she ask for? She tore a piece of the bread off and dipped it in the gravy, sopping it up. As she did so, the door opened. One traveller, then another entered. The city was starting to get some life back into it- the good kind of life. She nodded in approval and curly brown locks fell over her shoulder. An aggitated hand brushed them back and she tore into her meal. <br><br>A casual glance upward noted their position and their drink of choice. Those same brown eyes glanced down to her weapon of choice: a very unassuming shovel. The sight of her silent companion set her at ease and she picked up her cup of water to take a sip. She wouldn't be here long; it was just a&nbsp; stop before heading to the new base.</span>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Trackers of the Wasteland ~City~</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kiric Rand</strong> on <strong>22-12-2009, 03:57:41</strong>
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				Jason patted down his hair, his helmet having left it frazzled. He took a quick glance around the bar. *two others. Kinda dead for a new town." He had noticed the person following him in. *Another biker, Packed light, must be new here.* His eyes then flicked over to the girl a few tables over. "Intresting. She thinks she's keeping that shovel hidden." He made sure his guns were in hands reach, then begun struming a light rythem on his guitar, waiting for his drink to come in. *Possible trackers, who knows. Might just have to keep an eye on them.* 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Trackers of the Wasteland ~City~</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Abanu</strong> on <strong>22-12-2009, 10:36:17</strong>
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				He took his bottle of JD's and took another look around. He noted that the other biker had pulled a guitar. He really hopped he wouldn't burst into any country. Todd grew up listening too it day in and day out and knew most of the oldies by heart, but it had started to bother him as he got older and discovered hard rock.<br><br>He looked at the girl with the shovel. She seemed to be enjoying her food by the sounds she was making, which he concidered to be a good sign. He cracked the seal on his bottle of whiskey and poured a shot. "Here's to you, barkeep. Thanks for the drink." He raised his glass to the keep on the other side of the room and downed the shot without a flinch.<br><br>He looked up as he poured a second shot and asked, "So, who's leg does a tracker need to hump to find some work out here?"
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				Title: <strong>Re: Trackers of the Wasteland ~City~</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ryhana</strong> on <strong>23-12-2009, 08:07:11</strong>
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				Angela walked slowly into the city, she kept her green eyes opened and scanning for any of the Rotters. The blond haired lass knew she was a stranger than normal sight. Across her back was a quiver filled with many different types of arrows, most were manufactured arrows that she had scavenged, however there were a few that were hand made. It was these that she used mostly. Spotting a Rotter shambling down an alley way towards her and the street she drew and released the arrow she had notched. The only sound made was a near silent 'Thwip'. As the arrow planted itself in the Zombie's forehead she ran forward as it fell, cursing as she wasn't fast enough to catch it or even to knock it so it'd land on its back. Instead the damned undead fell face down, snapping the arrow. "Damn...s'nother one I have to replace..." Sighing she headed further into the city.<br><br>Choosing almost randomly she entered a bar, noticing the two bikers and the girl with a shovel, she glanced at them briefly before sitting off to the side, plopping down her medic bag, its red cross plain as day. She set her bow near her and removed her quiver and setting it down near her bow. she left her pistol on her hip, she hated to use that. She plucked a little at her once white blouse, and frowning at her blood encrusted black pants. She needed a bath and a good change of clothes.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Trackers of the Wasteland ~City~</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Tectum</strong> on <strong>23-12-2009, 14:44:42</strong>
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				Peter cursed quietly under his breath, as he realised he'd just walked the last mile and a half on auto pilot, he was lucky he hadn't been made lunch of. <br>" This is what comes of losing a bloody tyre" He lectured him self for at least the tenth time. <br>" Lose a tyre and you have to walk back to town, so why not bring a spare? Because you twit Pete you didn't want to waste fuel lugging about more weight then strictly needed. Ahhh I am a complete twit." Peter sighed to himself stopping for a moment to check the street ahead seeing only a splattered Zombie half way up the street he started down it wondering if that bartender would have opened by now.<br><br>Walking pass two bikes out front Peter ducked in through the doorway smiling having heard sound of talking inside. A sure sign he might find some stories to hear or work to be done but a big plus, no zombies inside, afterall no one stops to talk with the walking dead. Taking off his hat Pete moved to one of the free seats smiling and nodding to those present, sitting quietly and taking in the room.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Trackers of the Wasteland ~City~</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>LIAR</strong> on <strong>23-12-2009, 21:46:14</strong>
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				<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">It was becomming a bit too busy in the bar. She finished wiping up the rest of the meal with the last piece of bread making sure every morsel was devoured before she had to leave. In such uncertain times, it was better to be safe than sorry. She could tell now by properly examining that these weren't your regular roadside survivors. She licked her lips once more before tilting the tin cup of water back down, draining its contents.<br><br>"You can hump mine, iffin you want," she replied in a clear, sure tone. "Happen to be on my way up the bend to get to the base; sure 'nuff to be plenty of work up that way." She pushed the plate back towards the center of the table to signify she was finished. Charlie leaned back, crossing one long leg over the other. She wasn't yet ready to leave yet. She nodded her head in greeting to the two newcommers.</span>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Trackers of the Wasteland ~City~</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Abanu</strong> on <strong>23-12-2009, 22:55:13</strong>
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				Forgetting the small shot glass, Todd took a quick draw from the bottle he had in hand. He made special note of the red cross on the new girls bag. He shot a two fingered salute back at the new guy, but couldn't muster a smile to return. He nearly choked at the woman's response. The last time he asked like that he got told to shut up and nearly took a shot glass to the head. He recovered quickly and took another appraisal of the woman, eying her up and down quickly before taking another short swallow of Jack. <br><br>"So there is a base in this podunk ghost town. I was beginnin' to think this bar would be the only excitement except for the deadies the sentinels seem to have left to roam 'round. I guess that means that shovel you got aint for findin' treasure on the gulf then is it? You a tracker Missy? Or jus' passin' through?"<br><br>He finished with a final swig from the bottle and then tightened the cap back on. He could feel it warming him a bit already and hoped it would be quick in taking the images from his thoughts. If any of these others were trackers he wanted to get on their good side now. <em>Better to know the people watchin' your back, than not knowin' if they will.</em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Trackers of the Wasteland ~City~</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kiric Rand</strong> on <strong>24-12-2009, 02:43:31</strong>
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				Jason plucked a few chords on his gutar. Not much, just a few older rock songs he had learned on his touring days. Theny helped ease the pain from his past. *Seems I'm not the only fool around here then* "Well ain't that just cute." He finally spoke up with a slight souther accent. "You two fancy yourselves trackers then. Just how long you been in the game anyway?" He stoped playing long enough to take another drink from his glass. "Me, been at this for going on 5 years now, been teamed up with some of the best. The names Jason, but most folks call me Rockstar."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Trackers of the Wasteland ~City~</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Tectum</strong> on <strong>26-12-2009, 13:42:10</strong>
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				"Heh make that three, I like to think of my self as a tracker. Been one for the last four years, though the last week or so i've not found much that hadn't already been looked over. My name is Peter, a pleasure to meet you Rockstar and ahhh, I didn't catch your names unless you jumped past names and straight to leg humping." Peter says trying to supress a smirk, which he doesn't do to well at. <br>"Mind if I join you when you head back to the base, I need to find my self another job too."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Trackers of the Wasteland ~City~</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>LIAR</strong> on <strong>27-12-2009, 19:33:09</strong>
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				<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">Charlie smiled, having no care to answer either question quite yet. She had no need to boast of her past experiences; she very much enjoyed when other people did that for her. She thumped the table with her knuckles before spreading her fingers outward to rub along the grain of the wood, giving each person inside a critical look before standing.<br><br>"'ey, y'all, I'll be takin' my leave." &nbsp;She pointed out the door then shot a thumb out to the left. "Git yer gittin' on right up over that hill 'n follow upwards. Ain't much to this city quite yet- you'll know the base when you see it." The women tapped the curved head of her shovel. With a practiced ease, it shot upwards and she caught it in her hand with a theatrical twirl.<br><br>"Mebbe I'll be seein' you around." &nbsp;Charrlie smirked. "If you greens last long 'nuff." She winked, leaving out the door.</span>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Trackers of the Wasteland ~City~</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Abanu</strong> on <strong>28-12-2009, 21:04:51</strong>
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				Todd slipped the bottle of Jack into a pocket on his duffel bag. "Well guess that makes me the rookie then. I've been a tracker up in Boston for the past 2 years or so. And I don't necessarily mind skippin' the names and going straight to the humpin'. Though I also don't mind knowin' whose watchin' my back." <br><br>Skippin' names. He said it with distaste. He had started to get over the loss of his girlfriend, but the process was slow. He didn't like making emotional attachments if he didn't have to. He gave a very slight shake of his head. He could appreciate the sarcasm and lightheartedness of the trackers. One had to be or the depression of loosing friends and team mates when out gathering supplies would drive a sane man to suicide. He'd seen it a few times before. He looked up with a grin, "Ya'll can call me Todd, or Toad if you prefer, few of my cousins up north used ta call me that and I took to respondin' to it."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Trackers of the Wasteland ~City~</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kiric Rand</strong> on <strong>31-12-2009, 02:38:31</strong>
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				Jason downed the last of his drink, and grabed his helmet. "Well, I'm out. Theres a large gathering of trackers near the square. If you guys are looking for work or a team, that would be the best place to start. Guess i'll be seeing a few of you there." He straped on his helmet and steped outside. *More rookies, just what I need around here. They made it this afr though, they may have potential.* He grabed his bat from bike and reved it up, driving off, looking for more fleshmunchers to play baseball with.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Trackers of the Wasteland ~City~</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Abanu</strong> on <strong>31-12-2009, 03:09:15</strong>
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				Sensing that there conversation here in the bar would be strained at best, at least conversation with strangers always was for Todd, He stood up and grabbed his duffel bag. "Reckon I'll head over to the square then. No offense to yer'self bar keep, but seems like that's where all the excitement is an' I hate sittin' still for too long."<br><br>He started to walk out, making sure to tip his hat to the red cross girl. It was never a bad Idea to have a good impression with friends who knew how to save your ass in a pinch. <br><br>Before leaving he stopped by the bar to pick up a second, spare, bottle of Jack. She stowed it safely in his bag and casually went to his bike to load up his bag. 
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