[b][u]Things That Go Bump In The Night | Lost Vega, Market Plaza[/u][/b] [i]Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt![/i] Boon eyed the buzzing watch with anticipation, butterflies in his stomach as he surveyed the crowd. [i]Nine O'clock, I said. They'll be 'ere, they said. Bullshit, I say.[/i] Business had slowed during the last part of the day, giving him time to work on Elias' guns. He had sold most of the excess arms, with only a couple guns and a few boxes of ammo left. Now, all that was left was to prepare for what was to come.

[spoiler]bump?[/spoiler]

[spoiler]stil ded[/spoiler]

*A rip in the air appears as a solitary figure walks out onto the frozen tundra* "Huh. Cold. Nope, not today. Noooo thank you." *And with that, Shadow flips the bird to the world and leaves*

[spoiler]ded[/spoiler]

[b][u]The Great Gatsby | Lost Vega, Nevada[/u][/b] Betsy roared on through the ice and snow, the heated cabin immune to the chilling frost of Death's hand which so insistently grasped at the new world. After the heist, Boon had decided to rest, reluctantly giving the wheel to Elias as he and Yasha slept in the bunk beds. The ride had been uneventful up to that point, until Elias had braked to a halt without warning on the side of the road. Kinetic laws apparently disapproved of the two sleeping figures, as Yasha on the bottom bunk was thrown onto the floor, while the even more hated Boon was unceremoniously flung onto the island table before sliding into the back of the driver's seat. "YE FUСKIN' PIECE O' SHIT! I'LL RIP OUT YER GIZZARD IF—" "Can it, Boon, we've got a problem." "WHAT PROBLEM'S SO GOD DAMNED BIG THAT... That... Holy shite..." The massive city of Lost Vega loomed before them, junk walls encompassing the entire settlement as patrols monitored the entire perimeter. "Shit... I was told 'descent catch o' Urgals!' Nobody said anythin' about a God damned castle!"

[spoiler]https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/197022934/0/0/1[/spoiler] [b][u]Cheyenne Mountains:[/u][/b] Eilis _____________ [i]Fück me![/i] [b]Eilis slams the map down onto the hood of [i]Juggernaut[/i], the absolutely massive abomination of fuel tanker and tour bus her worthless family had spent thousands upon thousands of dollars on before. [/b] [i]That fuçker wasted every last dollar didn't he? Not a single one of these 'vaults' have -blam!-ing been here. These useless ass maps! [/i] [b]She swipes them off the trucks hood, and with them the bottle of water holding them down.[/b] [i]Fuçk![/i] [b]Eilis scrambles after it, only to watch it roll under the roads guardrail and towards a snow bank far below. [/b] [i]-blam!- -blam!- -blam!-[/i] [b]A loud bang is heard as the metal bottle clangs against some other piece of metal far below. Eilis stops her screams of anguish to peer down the cliff face.[/b] [quote]Restricte- , no tr-sing, area under survei-[/quote] [b]While still snow covered there is enough of the sign visible to make out the message.[/b] [i]Oh god please be it.[/i] [b]Eilis hurriedly dives into her truck to find her climbing gear.[/b] [spoiler]Pt1 of many. Not really open unless you really want to interact with a crazy Irish lady in a mad max style truck on a mountain.[/spoiler]

[b][u]Survival of the Deadliest[/u][/b] Wheeling, WV aka "Place of the Skull" Nuclear winter or not, Appalachia was always cold in the winter. However the occasional blizzard from the Northwest became a near constant occurrence and it had its toll. The animals that couldn't adapt died and those that survived became far more dangerous. The old city of wheeling was no exception. Situated on an old major highway it was frequented by caravans and refugees. But it also made it a prime location for Bandits and more feral denzians of the wild. Just at the top of the hill before the old cities a fire burned at an old shopping district. Around it lay the bodies of a group of bandits, human and Urgal. Their blood staining the snow as it was slowly covered again by the current snow storm. Beside the fire sat a Wolf urgal. One eye a solid white in contrast to the bright crystal blue of the other. Across his back he strung a recurve bow and at his belt was a freshly bloodied hooked hunting knife made for gutting. In his hand he held a Triblade claw weapon upon which the leg of a ram urgal was skewered to cook over the fire. Meat was a rare commodity this time of year. And afterall, nothing tastes better than a freash kill. [spoiler]open[/spoiler]

[b][i]Chapter 1 - Alien Instinct[/i][/b] [b][i]Previously:[/i][/b] [spoiler][b][i]Chapter 1 Prologue - Area 51 Ice falls from the dark sky as a convoy of black, militarized vehicles pulls into a secluded and recently excavated city once known as [redacted], New Mexico. The city is heavily fortified. The convoy stops abruptly in front of a large building, inhuman screams emanate from the vehicles as the doors open - large turrets swivel around from all angles and cover the cargo as it is unloaded. The cargo is alive. Nearby, a sniper watches the scene unfold via night vision scope. He records the entire thing. "Third convoy today." He says over the secured link. "I'd hate to be one of those guys..." Replies someone over the link. "I wonder what they do down there?" A blast door opens, and a powerful bright light causes the snipers to recoil as their night vision scopes blind them. The captured mutants are marched in at gunpoint while the more dangerous ones are carried in via secured containers that look too much like caskets. A man in a lab coat stands with a clip board as they bring in the fresh cargo. The door closes. The sniper folds up his bipod, throws his cloak across his shoulder, and slings his rifle across his back. He marches into the frost storm, and is obscured by the icy winds. He would find out what these soldiers and scientists were up to, and he would find a way to release their prisoners. The sniper arrives to his hidden bunker, he slips inside quietly. He removes his gear, revealing blue toned skin and reptilian, reflective eyes that shine like those of a nocturnal predator. [/i][/b] [b][i]Meanwhile Deep underground in Area 51, horrific experiments are taking place on the DNA of humans and mutants alike. The splicing involves a third and more "alien" party. The results are more sinister than anyone could imagine.[/i][/b] [/spoiler] [i] Something didn't feel right when Mortus received the transmission from the returning convoy. This new shipment of mutant livestock seemed to be a little light considering they had just returned to Area 51 from Alaska. There were only two, he was expecting dozens. Mortus sits in an office watching the security feed to the entire facility when the convoy arrives - it's much smaller now compared to when it left, they must have had trouble. Mortus is the mastermind of the genetic operation, second in command only to the Watcher. Mortus shudders at the thought of the Watcher, a being less understood than anything on this planet. He tries to remove the sinister thoughts of this being's origin from his head. [b]A guard walks by the office.[/b] "You! Watch over this station, I must prepare the chamber for our new guests." The guard says nothing as he walks in, nodding curtly at Mortus, who stands and exits the room as he puts on a blood stained lab coat. [b]The guard removes his gas mask and gloves, revealing blue toned skin and predatory eyes. He begins cutting wires and attaching strange electronics to the circuitry. Air vents and trap doors open all over the facility. Some automated defenses are deactivated, but the deepest darkest chambers of this facility needn't automated defenses.[/b] The convoy unloads two, tightly bound, 7ft tall warriors. They are wheeled into the facility - the heavy blast door closes behind them and the remaining soldiers in the convoy are promptly slaughtered, their bodies dragged into the shadows and stripped of clothes. [b]Tormaghon awakens in some sort of iron maiden, he makes eye contact with Jackal through the eye slit as they descend in a large elevator - hundreds of meters underground. They come to a stop and are wheeled down a long dark hallway, cells of humans and mutants line the walls as they come to a blast door with a biometric reader. Some of them are dead. The blast door opens, freezing air and fog wafts out as they are blinded by white light, and deafened by alien screams. The Watcher steps out from the fog, Tormaghon and Jackal's screams add to the symphony of horror. The blast door closes behind them.[/b][/i] [spoiler]Open post. Infiltrate the facility if your character is nearby. Keep in mind that it's a really really huge facility, use your imagination as to the layout inside. You can do it stealthily or heavy combat, the choice is yours. Also, you will probably run into me or other characters at some point, and the extraction will take place in chapter 1.1. This post can take a couple days. Keep in mind that there are two factions at war here: the Gene Stealers (scientists) and the Blood Pact (those that stand against the scientists) Enjoy![/spoiler]

[b][i]Chapter 1.1 - The Watcher[/i][/b] [b][i]Previously:[/i][/b] [spoiler]https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/196485891/0/0/1[/spoiler] [i] It came from somewhere beyond our understanding, and with it, came the parasite, and the dawn of another new era. The nuclear war on earth was a beacon in space, a promise of opportunity, and a chance to start over for an extinct intelligence. The Watcher is one of them, and it is not without agenda. It has been here for decades now, studying, scheming, experimenting, violating, and it will only get worse. The parasite is it's form of reproduction, but at this point, it is merely repurposing its hosts. There is much work to do, but the Watcher's intent is still unknown, even to it's closest subordinates. Mortis could be the smartest human who ever lived, but not even he could speculate the grand scheme of things - not even he knows how insidious the parasite really is, or how the Watcher intends to inflict his will upon the earth. The Watcher's subjects are mainly human, with an exception of only a few mutants or parasite hosts that it, and it alone, grants the opportunity to serve. Mortis is tasked to implement the parasite and perform tests. When a certain criteria is met, he informs the Watcher. Mortis's men comb the land for more subjects, and drag them, kicking and screaming, back to Area 51, where the true horror begins. [b]The Watcher is the stealer of lives, and the harvester of genetic codes... Codes that will unlock the darkest of secrets, and the most horrifying entities that ever walked the face of the earth. Experiments continue in Area 51.... And a breakthrough is near.[/b] [/i] [spoiler]more to come. Leave a comment with questions, thoughts, hopes. I want your feedback on the plot. Also, chapter 1 post is still active if you have not already joined, please do so.[/spoiler]

[b]NOTE:[/b] I can no longer update the thread, without having to put it in #Offtopic or a where else Also, the recent, pause, in the RP is due to Fulgrim being banned So, he's using his alt currently, and will try to continue the plot today

[spoiler]Provide reply for a bridge back.[/spoiler]

[spoiler]Bump to make sure it lives until i have enough time.[/spoiler]

[spoiler]im baaaaaack[/spoiler]

[b][i]Glowing pines, Isolated outpost[/i][/b] [i] A giant, concrete perimeter surrounds a fortified military compound housing weapons, ammunition, enslaved mutants and humans alike, and many heavy transport vehicles. Towering lookout buildings overlook the checkpoint just to the west of the compound. Snipers and spotlights search the darkness, barely penetrating the heavy snowfall as patrols encircle the entire area. [b]A patrol walks out in the frigid snow in a single file line to minimize wind shear - they're tethered together. The line stops, the lead man is unable to proceed, his cable is hung on something. He turns around and sees nothing but snow and darkness. He begins walking. A few meters away, he finds the body of the man who was tethered at his six.. His head is blown open like a crushed egg shell - his body spasms and jerks as the nerves fail to realize they're dead. A bullet blows the man's leg clean off, he falls, howling and gushing blood that quickly freezes to a crimson popsicle. Moments later, a figure with a sniper rifle stoops over him, taking his biometric identifier and other useful items. The sniper leans down to speak. "Tell me how many and I won't prolong your death.." "786" responds the man through great pain. The sniper puts a knife through the man's eye socket. The sniper and his allies move in towards the compound, obscured by the frozen night.[/b][/i]

[u][i][b]The First Hunt: Day 2[/b][/i][/u] [b]After a day of walking East it's time to get some food. I haven't eaten for a day and a half. Hopefully my plan works. The forest is thick here, but I found a clearing. Might be a game trail for larger animals. If my plan works, I'll be able to bring something big down. But first, small game.[/b] Aquilo climbed a tree in a dense, frost covered, forest. The trees had adapted to the cold, their needles nearly always frozen. Like pointed pieces of glass, glistening in the morning sun, which was just breaking the horizon, casting a light blue haze over everything in sight. Aquilo waited patiently, wiping the point on his whaling spear with a cloth. [spoiler]Open for narration.[/spoiler]

[b][u]Prelude to Something Horrible | The Cliffhanger (Yasha) The Hideout, Glowing Pines (Elias)[/u][/b] The road to The Cliffhanger was just that— a cliff. A winding highway built along the very ledge, a massive rock wall on one side, and a massive plummet downwards to the other. The Cliffhanger was built in a section where the rock had apparently collapsed at one point, a large red boathouse surrounded by gravel interrupting the otherwise perfect wall. It was here where Yasha stopped his bike, parking it alongside transports of all kinds, from mutated oxen to massive trucks. ------------------------------------------ "El... Eli..." Huh...? "ELIAS!" Feeling the butt of a gun jabbing into your stomach was certainly enough to wake you up. "Rise an' shine, Sleepin' Beauty. We've got preparations t'make." Sitting up, you remember where you are. "Y'nearly slept past noon. I know y'must be tired, but we've got work t'do. Breakfast tickle yer fancy?"

[b][u]A Familiar Face, But Stranger Place[/u][/b] [b][i]Southern Alaska, Alaskan Glacier Bridge[/i][/b] The wide expanse of the frozen air seemed to cause itself to be endless. The ground was pure white raised off the normal ground level from the glacial movements of the nuclear winter. A lone figure stood there taking it in, staring at the desert of ice surrounding them. Small dunes of frozen hills and "sandy" white crystals formed constantly on the blank canvas. No plants grew here, no creatures from what the figure had seen, and no one else to greet in the isolation. The figure's intentions were to find another survivor... Maybe even a group.... Or a home. This place and world was different from which he had left it. It had been cursed by the hushed silence of frost, a Glacies realm. The figure looked around at the nearly flat plateau on which he stood, its solid surface created by ice was unbreakable, dared if he tried to crush it. He didn't remember how long he had been walking for upon the bleached desert... Too long. Then, he noticed to his left was an odd blur of shapes nearing the horizon. He squinted behind his mask looking out at the strange sight when he recognized it, a forest. It was the exact replica of color from the glacier plateau on which he resided upon, no wonder it had been hard to spot... [i]There may be other wanderers held within the expanse.[/i] he thought quietly. It was decided then, he would travel to the forest coated white with the frozen wastes of the world.. One ruined by a mysterious fate unknown to him, But soon to find the truth. [b]Four hours later...[/b] He was now within the strange array of pure white trees and snow covered permafrost, scanning through the maze of the pale forest's cracks and crevices. He had been walking on carefully watching for any odd quirks in the landscape when he cane upon a small frozen patch... It was colored blood red followed by a trail of other small crimson patches upon the frozen ice. He crouched down and studied the largest swath of scarlet when he recognized the image at hand, Blood. And this had been a very recent occurrence, as the blood had only been barely covered in a feathering of snow and ice. He stood and straitened himself looking around the colorless clearing, into the feigned darkness of the bone like trees... There may have been someone watching... [spoiler]Open to [b]Jen[/b], if she would like to respond.[/spoiler]

[b]Up North... Somewhere...[/b] He didn't plan on coming this far North, he really hadn't. He wasn't even sure what convinced him to come back in Yorkton, but here he was. James had travelled with August, and picked up a strange fellow in Ontario. After that, they continued further up North, for god knows what reason. Recently they stopped, as August presided over old maps and the other kept to himself. James had had enough of being cooped up in that vehicle, and decided to stretch his legs outside. He instantly regretted that decision. It was much colder up here than it was in NY. Thankfully his clothing was up to the challenge, but that didn't make him feel any better. He continued walking, not straying too far from the vehicle, but far enough. [spoiler]Open, for interaction or narration, I suppose.[/spoiler]

[u]Shantytown somewhere in Nevada[/u] [i]Elias walked to the location with his trusty sniper rifle. He received a contract about killing a raider leader. Hopefully he can get the money he needed, so that he could apologise for a certain someone.[/i] [spoiler]Narration needed.[/spoiler]

[b]McClellan's pub, Boston[/b] Nathan Foley sat, in his uniform in his favorite pub, with his comrades. The other patrons paid them little mind with the occasional nod of respect. They were members of the army, their country The remnants of the untied states of America, or more commonly know as the remnants, held a sizable portion of the east coast. Boston, their capital had been spared the nuclear fire of the apocalypse, but not the disrepair or the famines. While other groups claimed to be the official US government, the remnants had one thing they did not, the US constitution. The Remnants had a surprisingly democratic system, unlike other communities they had a functioning government, and the headaches that came with it. Foley sat sipping the local brew, some said it was actually a beer from the old days, he doubted that, it may have been a similar recipe but surely it couldn't be the same Guinness as his forefathers had drank. [spoiler]open, I guess.[/spoiler]