Post by David B. on Jan 12, 2013 11:12:28 GMT -8
OOC((Check the OOC board for sign ups on the 15th. Will continue this on JANUARY 20th, 2013. Sign up before then to join))
ONE MONTH AGO
Rain pelted stone, slammed against the dust and dirt along the border of California. A dry, acrid desert stretched out across the earth and into the distance, cracked pavement and loose rubble scattered carelessly about the streets. Cars were littered here and there, windows broken. Some had bodies still rotting inside them, growing stale and filling the air with a putrid stink. California was a rotten place. Filled to the brim with death, decay. It was...fascinating. On the other side of the southern border, in Mexico, a man stood. A big man. On his face was a gas mask, the rest of his powerful body, a suit. His head was looking from side to side, admiring the view. His breathing was coming deep and slow, almost in a Darth-vaderish like fashion, though far more hollow. His hair, cropped short, was a jet black, though the rest of his head was obviously covered and therefore, unavailable for detail. His voice, when he spoke, was deep, and almost as monstrous as his form.
"Ah. The land of the primals lies before us. Yet, why do I see, now, no civilian? No thriving metropolis that has carried the legend of this place south? Word reached me, even so far- I had felt a deep..." A long breath. "-stirring in my chest. A need to walk upon this earth for myself. Yet as I stand here, I desire not to step forward."
The lithe form of a red-headed female coming in slowly behind him brought his voice to a halt. She too, wore a gas mask, though she went without the suit. Her body held a thin layer of clothing- a blank tank top, with a leather jacket draped carefully over her shoulders. Pocket lined cargo pants hid the long legs that brought her forward. She ran her fingers over the small of his back, so large was he. Nearly seven and a half feet tall, she could barely touch the base of his neck. Still, she was tall for a female, almost six feet, and she always seemed coiled like a snake. Her voice came out from under the gas mask like a cool spring, almost music could be heard in her voice.
"You have to see past the wreckage my love. Past the surface blinding you. The thing that reached our ears, that tugged at us- it's not prosperity."
She stepped across the boundary, over the body of a Barker soldier who had died defending the post when they had shown up.
"It's the feel of life. Of a dying fear and growing boldness. The strength that lies in the bones of the country....it's so...fascinating."
She turned back toward the man, who seemed to stare at her for a moment before removing his meaty hands from his pockets and walking forward. The woman turned and let out a breathy whisper-
"I'm so excited..."
She started to walk.
Ten others stood behind her, all wearing suits. They followed.
Behind them, moving silently, were men. Hundreds of them. Thousands. Tens of thousands. They came like a tide, storming over the hills and into cities like ants. They all wore masks, at first, and were different shapes, sizes, colors. These men, women, children- they didn't all directly follow the woman and the man- in fact, as they crossed the border, all of them began to remove the cover on their face, and move out in different directions, grinning from ear to ear. They wore civilian clothing, indecipherable from anyone else. No marks. No tattoos. As the woman and man moved forward, more and more broke off, again heading in different directions.
The man and woman, with their companions, walked on.
North.
And the rain followed.
ONE MONTH AGO
Rain pelted stone, slammed against the dust and dirt along the border of California. A dry, acrid desert stretched out across the earth and into the distance, cracked pavement and loose rubble scattered carelessly about the streets. Cars were littered here and there, windows broken. Some had bodies still rotting inside them, growing stale and filling the air with a putrid stink. California was a rotten place. Filled to the brim with death, decay. It was...fascinating. On the other side of the southern border, in Mexico, a man stood. A big man. On his face was a gas mask, the rest of his powerful body, a suit. His head was looking from side to side, admiring the view. His breathing was coming deep and slow, almost in a Darth-vaderish like fashion, though far more hollow. His hair, cropped short, was a jet black, though the rest of his head was obviously covered and therefore, unavailable for detail. His voice, when he spoke, was deep, and almost as monstrous as his form.
"Ah. The land of the primals lies before us. Yet, why do I see, now, no civilian? No thriving metropolis that has carried the legend of this place south? Word reached me, even so far- I had felt a deep..." A long breath. "-stirring in my chest. A need to walk upon this earth for myself. Yet as I stand here, I desire not to step forward."
The lithe form of a red-headed female coming in slowly behind him brought his voice to a halt. She too, wore a gas mask, though she went without the suit. Her body held a thin layer of clothing- a blank tank top, with a leather jacket draped carefully over her shoulders. Pocket lined cargo pants hid the long legs that brought her forward. She ran her fingers over the small of his back, so large was he. Nearly seven and a half feet tall, she could barely touch the base of his neck. Still, she was tall for a female, almost six feet, and she always seemed coiled like a snake. Her voice came out from under the gas mask like a cool spring, almost music could be heard in her voice.
"You have to see past the wreckage my love. Past the surface blinding you. The thing that reached our ears, that tugged at us- it's not prosperity."
She stepped across the boundary, over the body of a Barker soldier who had died defending the post when they had shown up.
"It's the feel of life. Of a dying fear and growing boldness. The strength that lies in the bones of the country....it's so...fascinating."
She turned back toward the man, who seemed to stare at her for a moment before removing his meaty hands from his pockets and walking forward. The woman turned and let out a breathy whisper-
"I'm so excited..."
She started to walk.
Ten others stood behind her, all wearing suits. They followed.
Behind them, moving silently, were men. Hundreds of them. Thousands. Tens of thousands. They came like a tide, storming over the hills and into cities like ants. They all wore masks, at first, and were different shapes, sizes, colors. These men, women, children- they didn't all directly follow the woman and the man- in fact, as they crossed the border, all of them began to remove the cover on their face, and move out in different directions, grinning from ear to ear. They wore civilian clothing, indecipherable from anyone else. No marks. No tattoos. As the woman and man moved forward, more and more broke off, again heading in different directions.
The man and woman, with their companions, walked on.
North.
And the rain followed.