forum Dystopian Rp (Closed)

Started April 03, 2019 by @Lunar_Eclipse

tune

Storm was scrounging around a small town that was obviously just camped in. He could tell from the steaming coal left over from fires, food wrappers, and the footprints that were left in the dust. He occasionally picked up some scraps hoping to find something valuable that was accidentally left by the previous visitors. He entered a small gas station with half the roof collapsed. He searched the shelves for left over foods. He picked up a small can of soup and a can of green beans with a sigh. He placed them into his bag for later.

(Thanks! I'll get my template up soon!)

(kk)

Jensen woke from his fitful sleep at the sound of the gas station door opening. He'd only spent the night there after running from some rogues, escaping into this run down place. Turns out trying to bargain for food with people who wanted to kill you wasn't the greatest idea. There was only one pair of footsteps, that he could tell, but one never knew nowadays whether they were friendly or not. He heard the sound of cans being pulled off the shelf and rose to his feet quietly. He peered around the corner to see a young man with messy brown hair stuffing cans into a backpack. "Hey," Jensen called out softly, holding his hands up as a sign of goodwill and hoping the guy wouldn't try and shoot him like literally everyone else he'd met in the past month.

Out of fear and surprise Storm quickly grasped his Scar-L and aimed toward the voice. Storm's heart was pounding within his chest and his adrenaline started pumping. Storm saw that the guy had his hands up, but he still wasn't going to risk it. Storm didn't lower his gun. He inhaled a deep shaky breath. "I don't have anything so you can keep going along," Storm tried to keep his voice calm and demanding.

"Yeah, well me neither," Jensen replied calmly. He gestured slightly to the gun he was holding, saying, "Nice weapon. Bet that was difficult to get a hold of." He didn't yet reach for the pistol tucked into his waistband at the back, hoping he wouldn't need it.

Storm was still wary of this guy but started to trust him a bit more. Storm stiffened when he mentioned the gun. The sight of Roy dying flashed into his mind. He tried to stay strong. "Did what I had to," Storm replied trying to make himself seem stronger than he really was. "What do you want?" he asked trying to get off the subject of his gun.

"Nothing in particular. You're the first person I've seen in over a month that hasn't instantly tried to kill me, so I guess I just want to talk. Plus, you're the one who came to me," he explained, carefully lowering his hands, but still leaving his gun where it was. "I'm Jensen," he added, holding a hand out to shake in the least threatening way he could think of.

(Not too late! Go ahead and join.)

(Thanks! Should I make a template, or…)

(Not too late! Go ahead and join.)

(Thanks! Should I make a template, or…)

(Yes, thank you!)

"Nothing in particular. You're the first person I've seen in over a month that hasn't instantly tried to kill me, so I guess I just want to talk. Plus, you're the one who came to me," he explained, carefully lowering his hands, but still leaving his gun where it was. "I'm Jensen," he added, holding a hand out to shake in the least threatening way he could think of.

"What do you mean I came to you? Your the one that came to me. I didn't go searching for you." Storm corrected him, lowering his gun only a little.

(Not too late! Go ahead and join.)

(Thanks! Should I make a template, or…)

(Yes, thank you!)

(Wait do you mean a character template? Because I made one on the first page if you want to use it)

(Not too late! Go ahead and join.)

(Thanks! Should I make a template, or…)

(Yes, thank you!)

(Wait do you mean a character template? Because I made one on the first page if you want to use it)

(Yeah.)

(Not too late! Go ahead and join.)

(Thanks! Should I make a template, or…)

(Yes, thank you!)

(Wait do you mean a character template? Because I made one on the first page if you want to use it)

(Yeah.)

(oh haha, yeah I read that wrong. xD there is one on the first page if you want to use that. You can add or make your own its fine either way.)

Zyra woke up from her fitful sleep at the sound of a group of teenagers entering the gas station she was at. She swiftly took out her gun and peered out at the group from behind a cabinet. They were looking around for food and potential weapons, just like she thought. One about twelve years old walked over to the cabinet where Zyra was hiding, she quickly put the kid in a headlock and walked out with the gun pressed against his head. "Give me all your supplies or I will shoot him," She threatened, knowing very well that she wasn't going to shoot the kid. She wouldn't be able to.

"What do you mean I came to you? Your the one that came to me. I didn't go searching for you." Storm corrected him, lowering his gun only a little.

"I was here first. Back in that little corner, sleeping, actually," he told him, pointing to the place his backpack was barely peeking out from behind a shelf. He didn't seem too perturbed that the guy had totally turned down his greeting, though he was still curious as to what his name was. "Do you have a name?"

Storm curiously peeked around a shelf to see where Jensen had been resting. He saw the bag and decided to believe him. Storm wrapped the strap on his gun around his shoulder and finished zipping up his backpack. "The name is Storm," He said swinging his backpack onto his back. "So you just want to talk, huh? Then lets walk and talk. Don't like staying in one place for too long. There is another small town a couple miles east from here and I intend to get there before dark."

Jensen looked mildly surprised, but agreed, quickly retrieving his own backpack and moving to follow Storm. "It's an interesting name. Thanks for not shooting me. That probably wouldn't have been pleasant." He slung the bag over his shoulder, not before pausing briefly to grab a few leftover water bottles on the shelf near the back and replacing them with empty ones. He grabbed an extra and tossed it at Storm, saying, "That'll probably help more than just some canned food."

Storm shrugged, "Not too crazy of a name. And no problem, probably would have just shot you in the leg if I did try and shoot." Storm caught the water bottle. "Thanks, didn't see those there." Storm tucked it away in a side pocket of his backpack. He walked out of the gas station into the sunlight. He looked at which direction the sun was going and figured out which way was east. He started to walk in that direction.

"Oh, well that would've been less painful," Jensen replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes with a faint, bemused smile on his face. "Not to mention I would've died anyways from being unable to move. But no problem. I can't really fit anymore in my bag anyways." He lapsed into silence for a moment, focused on walking, then asked, "So what did you do before, you know, the world ended?"

Storm laughed for the first time in which seemed to be months. He was happy to find someone with his same humor. "At least I wouldn't have to see you die," Storm grinned. Jensen's last question threw him off. His tone was no longer playful and his expression hardened. "I was just a normal kid. Blind to what the world was capable of." Storm left it at that, scared that if he spoke anymore he would break. "What about you?"

The older man bit his lip slightly, sensing Storm's obvious change in mood after laughing moments before. Guess the end of everything anyone knew was a bit of a touchy subject. Oops. "I was a journalist," he answered. "I wrote reviews of different places and followed the most interesting stories I could find. Which I guess doesn't matter all that much anymore, but asking questions is a bit of a habit I retained from it. Guess I should mention I'm twenty-seven. If we're going to be hanging around together for a while, it might be cool to get to know each other." Jensen shrugged.