The Badlands.   Posted by Master of Ceremonies.Group: 0
Master of Ceremonies
 GM, 10 posts
Fri 31 Mar 2017
at 14:32
The Badlands
A desert, as far as the eye can see, nothing but yellowing dry grass, interspersed with few rocks and even fewer trees, or at least what may have once been trees before the blight got them.

Small rivers snake their way through the landscape, bringing a tempting death to any that would drink of the corrupted water or eat the blackened plants that seem to be dragging themselves out of the water.

A hot wind blows across the plains, bringing a muggy heat that leaves you both damp yet parched, tempting the wayward traveler to expend precious water supplies.

To the north, in the hills, sits The Spring, A wind blasted compound, where old water condensers strip what little clean water there is from the dry yet uncontaminated air.

Sitting slightly south of that, in the basin, lies Rag town, a motley collection of rusted vehicles,gutted houses and makeshift tents. The tenants there risking the toxic water of the "Poisoned Chalice" for scavenged supplies,food as well as multitude of other riches located in the flooded basin.

To the east the silhouette of a city is seen. It's said that the smoke billowing from it came with The Event, and hasn't stopped since, all these years later. The name lost to time, The Strip gangs call it a gold mine, The Wackknuts and loonies call it The Sacred City,Travelers call it a Shithole, but to the natives, It's known as Yenne.

To the South, The blasted Heath

No one goes there.

This message was last edited by the GM at 14:39, Fri 31 Mar 2017.

Master of Ceremonies
 GM, 42 posts
Fri 7 Apr 2017
at 18:35
The Badlands
Small hovels dot the landscape, hastily made tents and gutted wrecks, in some places there are ruins of the old world, purpose lost to time. Now a home to vagrants and raiders.

A man sprints across the wastes,dust trailing in his wake,sweat beading down his forehead as he makes a frantic dash to one such structure, a wooden cabin,more of a shed really, but Dot's wouldn't really care, he just needed a place to rest and even a flimsy wooden wall between Dot and Him would count for something.

He bursts in through the door and throws it closed behind him,deadbolt on and a half the shit in this crappy building against it for good measure, He ain't coming through that door.

This whole thing was fucked, Maggot and Point were fucking torn apart, Gas and Allen drowned in the black bog, He lost track of Potty, He ran for the Heath.

He had been wrong, he should'nt have fucked with Rum, he should'a run while he had the chance and he probably would have more of a chance with Potty in the Heath.

But he was right about one thing.

He didn't come through the door.

The flimsy wooden wall exploded behind him.

And in stepped a Monster

This message was last edited by the GM at 18:36, Fri 07 Apr 2017.

 player, 5 posts
Sat 8 Apr 2017
at 00:44
The Badlands
The whirr of Momo's chainsaw screams throughout the small shed, spitting red pieces of Point and old, wooden wall. Momo stands in the middle of the dust and debris; a slow, rasping breath escaping from his mask.

Almost a sigh of ecstasy.

He locks eyes with Dot, blank and unflinching. The low rumble of the chainsaw's motor a constant reminder of Maggot and Point. He steps forward toward the makeshift barricade where Dot cowers.

He waits. A small drop of drool escapes the mask's outlet valve, it splatters on Dot's trembling form.

The roars of the chainsaw drown out Dot's final shrieks.

Momo emerges, sopped in red ichor. The low purr of the chainsaw is silenced before he heads out towards the Heath.

A low groan emanates from his mask, "...Potty...."
Master of Ceremonies
 GM, 80 posts
Wed 3 May 2017
at 14:25
The Badlands
The speed at which the badlands heat up has taken many a traveller of guard,the pleasant, if slightly muggy,warmth of the night is quickly replaced with the dry blister winds and alot of the journey involves hugging rock formations to spare the strip team the worst of it.

At one such formation, a small bone white outcropping, the team stops and rests in the shade of the rib like henge.

Rain beckons Clot over and gestures to a crimson mark on the stone.
It looks like someone's taken a spray can to it then immediately sanded it off.

"Marrowmaw vomit...or whatever" She shrugs and takes another huff of Aqua in between sips of water.
The Chaplain
 player, 55 posts
 The Chaplain
Thu 4 May 2017
at 13:12
The Badlands
Chaplain scans the area, raising wrath and sighting down it in a slow circle.  He stops and examines the ground around the area looking for anything that shows a sign of what came through.  "Marrowmaw, they edible?"  Chap spoke out loud but quietly as he followed the ground markings.
Master of Ceremonies
 GM, 81 posts
Thu 4 May 2017
at 16:05
The Badlands
"Yeah,alot more hassle than it's worth though, easier and tastier just to shoot a lone Dustsprinter."

The tracks lead from and off into the desert,he finds some leavings that appear several days old.

The Chaplain looks around, squinting slightly in the morning sun.
Hazy figures standing atop a cliff face about half a click away,silhouetted against the horizon catch his eye.

They're standing still,almost unnaturally so.
He can't see their eyes but he feels the gaze of the centre figure on him,like the devil spotting a sinner.

Two more groups break off from the main one and dissappear among the crags of the badlands.

A series of fissures in the earth looks large enough to duck down into if one was hoping to stay out of sight.
If memory serves these cracks run the entire length of the badlands and,barring cave-ins and the possibility of a underground black stream,could be used to navigate the badlands whilst also providing cover.

The Clot,Rain and the rest of the strip gang haven't noticed the figures yet.
 player, 74 posts
 The Angel
 No Harm
Thu 4 May 2017
at 17:15
The Badlands
Clot pulled a box of rubber gloves out of the angel kit in her duffel, breaking the serrated seal, then used the cardboard to scrape up the powder and put it in one of the gloves. She'd have to sift it out later in case there was some debris from nature left in the mix, but the glove would keep the powder sealed, and she could at least get a handful. She chuckled at the thought. The angel tied the glove off loosely so that she could reopen it later if there was more powder. "That about covers that this one. At some point, I may need to improvise a microscope if we don't have a legit one on hand. One of the first people to see bacterium used a blob of molten glass dropped into a water recepticle and allowed to cool more or less spherically. It provides a little over a hundred power magnification." When she got up, the medic inquired about Chap's findings in a way that referenced a not quite remembered religious holiday "Yo St. Nick, any naughties out there?"
Master of Ceremonies
 GM, 92 posts
Tue 23 May 2017
at 19:17
The Badlands
The wind blows,kicking up dust clouds that sweep along the crisp yellowing grass.

Over the sound of screaming hawks,a dull roar can be heard across the badlands.

A deep thrumming noise of engine and exhaust,a rare sound in today's world.

A flock of carrion scatters as the gang pull up to the carnage.

Buzzsaw sniffs as he rolls one of the bodies over and starts to pat the body down.

"Looks like a strip gang judging by their equipment."

He tosses a toolbelt to Screws who begins inspecting it.

Ronny frowns down at one of the corpses
"I've seen this one around Ragtown before, he's one of Rum's guys!"
The Sheriff
 player, 8 posts
Tue 23 May 2017
at 19:59
The Badlands
Sheriff hops from his bike and saunters over to Ronny, "Hey Buzz, keep searchin' 'em. Those strip ganger mighta missed something." He reaches Ronny, "What'd he do for Rum?"
Master of Ceremonies
 GM, 95 posts
Tue 23 May 2017
at 21:07
The Badlands
"Eh...Not sure...Hired gun I think,didn't talk to him much..."

He digs around in his ear for a while before picking out somthing alive and wriggling and flicking it to the ground,a boot heel following it soon after.

"He liked to spout bible shit...Y'know..."The Lord on high will smite thou for fucking your sister" or whatever"

He shrugs.

Screw has made his way over and looks at the pile of scraps the gang had looted.
"Not to bad, I reckon I can work with some of these...Rest we can sell at Ragtown or Spring..."
The Sheriff
 player, 11 posts
Tue 23 May 2017
at 23:49
The Badlands
"Ronny, if there was a god who smited sister-fuckers you'd be long gone and I wouldn't have to deal with you."

He walks over to look at some of the stuff that Screw has piled up. "Great, put stuff to work on the bikes in your gear, and anything we're gonna sell in mine and Buzz's bikes. We'll head over to Spring to off-load it."