Fracta Terram: Roleplay

(Just so you know I will not be on for the next few days.)

 

Steve's motorcycle roared through the massive forest that was once western Oregon.
In the sidecar was an old metal propeller, the last of the items he needed to finish the project that he'd been working on for nearly six months.
As he approached the half destroyed boathouse that housed both him and his pet project, he found himself smiling uncontrollably.

Within an hour of arriving, he had the propeller installed, and stepped back to look at his baby.
A 1991 Cessna 208 Caravan, or so the manuals he had found inside called it, modified with an electric engine powered by his own mutant ability.
The faded white and purple paint announced that the aircraft was named Fedex, presumably after one of the gods of old America.
Steve had further modified the plane with wheeled floats which would allow him to land on land or water.
With room for Steve, his motorcycle, and several people besides, the plane would be able to take him almost anywhere in the world.
His search for America's past would be much easier now.

From what few books and newspapers had survived the disaster, Steve had discovered that North America had been untouched by the initial impact, but the subsequent seismic activity had caused the Yellowstone caldera to erupt.
The explosion of the supervolcano had killed millions of people and covered most of the continent in ash.
Crops died, lakes and rivers were tainted, and millions more died from respiratory illness, thirst, and starvation.
Within a decade, ninety-five percent of the people that had lived in the affected areas were dead, and nature had taken over.

Eventually, the survivors formed the city-states, massive settlements built among the remains of the great cities of old.
Most of the people that lived in the city-states were content enough, doing whatever jobs their governments assigned to them.
Still, life was hard.
Most of the knowledge to use the old technology had been lost, and society had adapted accordingly.

Steve caught himself laughing as he thought about the horse-drawn wagons and dog carts that had filled the streets of New Seattle.
Most of the people in the city-states had never been beyond the city walls.
They still believed that airplanes were a myth, like dragons, fairies, and television.

Still grinning, Steve dug through his belongings until he found an old world map.
He could go anywhere in the world now, but where to start?

 

Natasha walked along the streets of Nottingham her mind filled with amazement as she looked around. Everything from the old castle, Still steeped in mystery since they found a small box of broken 'Audio tours'. She continued walking admiring the architecture and a place she wished to know a lot about a place called Ye olde trip to jerusalem according to the sign on it it was built in 1198. It was a fact that fascinated her She wanted to know more so knowing how things worked around here she headed to her Fiancé, The great Dictator Lucifer so named after the greatest hellwalker of old according to the banned black books with crosses on them.

As she walked it was common to see women on street corners and men of all ages entering darkened brothels most called Blockbuster, Mcdonalds or KFC. As she arrived at the town centre she climbed the stairs to her home/Dictators palace. While she walked the Hellwalker guards saluted and the 'normals' either cowered or were mesmerised by her beauty.She approached her throne next to Lucifer and laid her head. Making sure to place the most powerful man made weapon in existence the SMLE by her side. "Honey, can you tell me about the history of this world." Lucifer with a smile agreed and told tales about how the hellwalker's rose from the ground to rule over the 'normals'. He spoke of great hellwalker leaders such William the conqueror, King Arthur and King Charles II. Then he spoke about how the normals took power and led the country into this mess and that the whole devastation was the fault of the normals. Finally he spoke about how he was to herald a new age for hellwalkers and return The United Midlands of old Britain to its former Empire spoken only in history books and how she was to rule beside him. Natasha blushed at the last bit as normals continued to come in and whine about things. Natasha only wished she could either purge the land of their existence and have a country without them or denounce them of their Civilian status and just have them as slaves for the Hellwalkers.

 

It took Steve a few days to get the hang of flying, but between the manuals and good old fashioned trial and error, he eventually got it figured out.
Many of the books that he found in his travels mentioned a magical land called Hollywood, which according to his maps, was in either California or Florida.
As California was only a short flight south, he decided to look there first.
Loading up his bike and his few other belongings into Fedex, he headed south, flying along the to the coastline until he spotted a port city, which he assumed was the fabled Hollywood.

An hour after landing, Steve was thoroughly confused.
His map had been very clear; follow the coastline, and Hollywood would be easy to find.
Instead, he had somehow landed in a city called Nipton Port.
To make matters worse, the one person that he could find who knew anything about Hollywood told him that it was now called Angel City, and that it lay on an island to the west!

Another two hours later, Steve had sold some of the gold jewelry that he collected during his travels, and purchased an up-to-date map, a short book about the Newflower Republic, and something called a 'hotdog,' which the vendor had assured him was not made out of dog meat.

Finding a bench near the docks to eat his lunch, Steve sat and watched the ships coming in.

 

Steve arched an eyebrow as he watched the passengers embark from one of the ships.
Several of them had catlike ears and tails.
He wondered briefly if they were mutants like himself, or something else entirely.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the feeling of cold gun barrel pressed against the back of his neck.
A hand grabbed his shoulder tightly and a raspy voice whispered in his ear, "Gimme yer money an' kit. Don' be dumb, or yer dead meat."

Steve sighed.
He briefly considered sending a jolt through the gun and into the mugger, but that most likely would cause the trigger finger to tighten and the gun to go off.
Unhappily, he placed his revolver, tomahawk, and wallet on the bench beside him.
As long as he had that gun to his head, there was nothing he could do to fight back.

 

Steve placed collected his gear and grinned at the catgirl.
"I've dealt with worse.
Thanks, though. You saved me the trouble of having to hunt that loser down later."
He truly was thankful that she had shown up when she had.
While he had no doubt that he would have eventually caught the mugger and recovered his belongings, it most certainly would have taken him hours, if not days, to do so.


He held out his hand.
"Name's Steve Rogers. My friends call me Captain, or just Cap.
Nice to meet you, Miss...?"

 

Meanwhile... After a long while of dealing with plea's and complaints Natasha was finally free. She explored the usual parts but decided to visit the the Library. Pretty much every book was written or commissioned by Lucifer under various names, all with a single goal to make it seem like Hellwalkers are good and that they should all be in positions of power and how normals were lesser beings who brought the devastation to the world. So all in all the library was filled with propaganda. Of course Natasha did not know this so considered everything in those books to be the truth. Browsing the shelves she came across a book about the strange statue she saw outside the castle earlier that day. When she opened up the book it told the tale of Robin Hood however it was rewritten to make Robin and his merry men Hellwalkers who seek to kill and remove the normal human prince John from the throne and rule over England while Richard the Lionheart was away reclaiming Jerusalem for the hellwalkers and succeeding.

After a while of reading many of Robin Hoods exploits along with books written about how 'normals' in power always bring devastation and failure. Her hatred for those who were normal increased. So she decided to 'persuade' Lucifer to round up all the normals and force them into servitude. He agreed and within 4 hours the deed was done. Now her final part of the plan came into action, she and Lucifer wanted a glorious empire so she sent many Hellwalkers to persuade other ones in other countries to join them and creating a brighter future. She then went to bed as she awaited for news regarding her plans. Though it might take 3+ days for any significant news to surface.

 

As Isaac walked, he listened to the soothing -to him- sound of his respirator filtering the air that entered his lungs. To others, it probably sounded like a strange combination of mechanical sounds that they couldn't care less about. It was strange, to think about his body this way. The way that one would think of an appliance in one's home.

'Heh, yet I still can't toast bread with this thing.' He thought to himself regarding his arm. His mind wandered to the many things that he could evem do with a toaster on his arm. Unfortunately the only thing he could think of was toasting bread, or bagels, or any other pastry that would fit. He let out a soft chuckle as he wandered through the town of Nipton. He figured he could get a nice rest, a bit of food, and maybe even some very needed supplies. Then again that was the best case scenario.

Most likely, things wouldn't work out the way he had planned. They never did. Something would always... Go awry. He let out a sigh and looked around, spying an ammo vendor and making a beeline for it. He dug in his pocket and fished out a round for his 30.06.

"Hey friend, you got any of these? I'd be real grateful." Isaac wasn't much of a gun enthusiast, so he had no idea what type of ammunition to ask for, so he just carried that aaround for occasions just like this.

The vendor raised an eyebrow at the curious individual's curious behavior, but shrugged it off. "Yeh, I think I got some in the back, lemme check." The shopkeeper dissappeared behind the small curtain he had set up and returned with one box, nearly full. "Here ya are. S'all we got."

Isaac took one out and compared it with his own, just to be sure. Sure enough it was, and he placed the bullet back. Paying the price that was bargained, and tucking the box away in his bag. "Much appreciated sir. Have a nice day." And with that, Isaac walked off down the street, still thinking about the fact that he could, in all honesty, install a toaster into his arm. To some, a gas masked figure laughing silently to himself down the street was strange. One to see someone laughing in these times. Another with the cyber arm and the weird mask. It was a lot to take in, and many simply ignored because... Well it was easier. As the faint smell of saltwater made its way past his filter, he briefly entertained the thought that it may rust his arm. It was only passing however, as the more important matter at the time was a man's head being slammed into a bench. "Well then." He was wondering why, until a gun clattered to the ground next to him. "Ahh."

 

(OOC: I received my computer after school today and was told that I could take it home, it was suppose to be three days but what ever.)

A boat traveled through the mist, its tainted white coloring blending in with the water. It was nearing a village, guarded by over fifty soldiers, as well as turrets. As soon as the boat was tied to the docks where the gate was, several families swiftly ran through the gates, soldiers escorting them to shelters. A man walked off the ship, wearing a Texas Longhorns hat, a robe used in the mid-evil times (Like with what the Horseman War wore (In darksiders 1)), and steel point boots. He kept his eyes concentrated on the ground, not trying to make eye contact with the troops. Two of them greeted him, "Oy, what is your business here?"
"I need a place to rest," The robed man said. He then grabbed out a badge of his family, "Is this good enough?"
The first troop took the badge carefully, inspecting it. The other looked at the man closely, "Ey, there a reason you looking at the ground? Look at me!"
The man did so, looking the troop dead straight in the eyes. A note fell from the man's robe and the troop inspecting the badge picked it up and opened it. The troop immediately pointed his rifle, quickly backing up, so did the other as he saw the reaction of his partner.
"ITS HIM! IT'S THE-" The first troop was cut off as somehow the man was behind him, his katana drawn out as a small drip of blood fell from it. The troops head split in half as he fell to the ground, the second troop fell over cut in half.
All of the soldiers immediately began to fire at the man.

 

"Explore the world, eh?
Seems like a respectable goal."

Steve thought for a moment.
"So, hey... can I buy you lunch, or something?
I feel like I owe you for saving my neck back there."

As he waited for Adaria to answer, Steve bent down to search the unconscious mugger.
The gun that had been pressed to the back of his neck turned out to be a .22 automatic, with a single round in the chamber and an almost full clip.
With a shrug, Steve pocketed the weapon.
At least it wouldn't be used to harass any more tourists.

 

"What do you mean, 'your kind?' Why wouldn't they serve you?"
Steve was quite confused.
In the city-states, everybody was treated equally. Decades of struggling just to survive had all but eliminated the antiquated concept of bigotry.
Out in the wilds, the few other people he had met that had either been psychotic killers, or exiles like himself that preferred freedom to structured life of the city-states.

 

While normally Isaac would have jumped at the chance to perhaps make a friend or two in this world, he decided that his best course of action was to sit and watch. It made sense, to him at least, one mugger had already gotten what-for, and Isaac's outward appearance wasn't what one generally would describe as "kindly." He was just as likely to be shot the minute he approached as he was likely to be greeted.

As getting shot was not on his list of things to do, he simply leaned on a nearby wall and watched the two figures conversing with each other. He tried to listen in on the conversation, but only succeeded in picking up small snippets among the idle chatter of other people. Something about food and bigotry apparently.