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From the Ashes, Baptism by Fire

 
Maddox Maxxinsky's picture
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The wind blew harsh outside the wasteland with the sand storm kicked up like shards of glass being rained down on this region of the Grand Canyon.  A tall rider wrapped in a brown leather duster coat with chaps and what shoes he could find venturing out on the back of an old horse.  A gift some allies gave him after his trials and tribulations at Facility 51.  His emergence into this world called the Wasteland was not one simply of a destiny.  It was literally thrusted upon him from the moment he stepped out of the Lifenet Pod.  Uniform, and rifle handed to him, including a barcode branded upon the back of his neck.  That was the year 2154 only several years after the events of Hoover Dam.  Facility 51 had been one that was kept classified by Globaltech for some reason when it was established.  It was even named the "Area 51 of Globaltech" by many of the staff that worked there.  It's purpose was to create a clone army one that would be used to facilitate law and order and maintain security should the need arrise against overwhelming opposition.  As it turned out, after Hoover Damn the White Crow found it and took adavantage of if to facilitate what they deemed as, "The Army of Alec Masters".  These clones would be bred, brainwashed, conditioned, and finally sent out as an expendable asset.  These bred soldiers would be seen as property and maintained as such.  The genome was kept pure, and at all times hopefully the mental conditioning would be done so that these clones would work more like a machine and not as individuals. Yet that all changed when the CHOTA and Vista's attempted to lay seige and raid Facility 51.  That dream of the army was born out of the pods, handed their issued items, quickly were drilled and thrusted upon the CHOTA and Vista's with such force.  They had no right to think, question, or even dictate their own actions, this was seen as a form of heresy and weakness.  Your brethren were your family, your masters are your fathers and mothers.  White Crow was your heritage, all these things drilled into each clone to do only two things, take orders, and kill without remorse or regret.  

 

Your brethren were your family, your masters are your fathers and mothers.  White Crow was your heritage, all these things drilled into each clone to do only two things, take orders, and kill without remorse or regret.

"Your brethren were your family, your masters are your fathers and mothers.  White Crow was your heritage, all these things drilled into each clone to do only two things, take orders, and kill without remorse or regret."

 

 

 

The rider on the horse kept his head held low as the storm blew, the steed was showing signs of fatigue from the enduring weather out there.  He quickly dismounted and guided the horse to a nearby cave to take shelter.  At first hesitant, but later accepting his lead this is the only transportation he had on hand.  Before he departed from Facility 51 it was a gift given to him with some rations and supplies to survive with.  It wasn't like anything else he had not dealt with before.  As he settled the horse and looked outside back at the sand storm outside with his mind lingering back.  It brought back memories when he was starting to have strange dreams of another life.  These collectives dreams as it turned out to be actually memories of a life before the Fall.  He remembered being a cop or some soldier, possibly both.  He had a wife, and a daughter yet somehow he had lost them, then waking up into this purgatory of existance.  Days later did he then relate the events of what happened to his brethren and to his surprise they seem to be having what appeared dreams or memories of a different life as well.  It was this inquiry that led them to come to council and decide what they were going to do.  Remain as forced labor?  Or stand up and revolt!  At first the choice was rather difficult for many remembered the code that they were taught, "To question or dictate was heresy and penalty for it was severe punishment or death."  Death in that state was removal of the collar and put down like an animal.  The White Crow had a long history of enforcing this regulation, and it was clear that many came to the reliezation that there was something more to existance and just following orders.  He remembered the measures they took, sending two messengers to the CHOTA and Vista's to ask for help.  While both at first were reluctant to.  In the end they finally agreed but in return, all surveillance, communication, and reactor systems would have to be sabotaged on the inside.  This was all planned to take place with in four days.  That gave enough time to plan and prepare for that day then.  For when that day came, they would gather as many, and fight as one!

 

 

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                                               "For when that day came, they would gather as many, and fight as one!"

 

 

When the fourth day came, everyone was attending to their normal routines, but prior before that weapons were made, all areas to be sabotaged were designated by the clones and routes were planned.  For this one he knew where he was then when the alarm was sounded and the revolt began.  He was near the communication room cutting the wires, and damaging all the cameras as well.  The revolt was something so sudden he remembered how the place that once was all in order, suddenly became a frenzy of bloodshed.  The White Crow attempted to try to gather enough forces to try to quell the rebellion, but the numbers were too many.  Many of the clones either stabbed, bashed, or even decapitated the mercenaries their oppressors with make shift weapons crude but able to do the job, or shot dead on site without regret or remorse. He remembered being in the comms room and at the level sniping and picking off every White Crow he saw.  Everything that was denied to him, everything that they installed as fear only turned into apathy.  Both side took casualties and at first it seemed the revolt might be over, but then after the CHOTA showed up with the Vista's that all quickly changed.  Many of those clones remembered March 31, 2154 as "The Day of Reckoning".  For when the clones rose up against the White Crow with the help of the CHOTA and Vista's and overthrew them at Facility 51.  After that the CHOTA and Vista's offered the clones refuge among their ranks.  Many accepted but a few decided to venture on their own.

 

For this one, Maddox knew why he ventured, because of the nightmare that followed him, those memories the loss of his wife, and also his daughter.  He didn't want to seek a life of solitude, it's just he wanted to seek to find some sense of peace and at the time all the clones there had been through so much.He knew since that day his life was changed forever.  He took the clothing, supplies and horse he was given and rode as far as he could.  He knew those clones was the closest thing he had to family, but that was the other reason why he left.  He wanted to seek his place out in this forsakened world, he wanted to make something of himself, find answers and a purpose.  After all the life there made him bitter and yes only learn to rely on himself, but he also wanted to hopefully find a place to settle, call his own, acceptance among a group of his peers, and one day a woman he could call his own, wife and maybe then be able to rebuild his life from there.  He held much sympathy for everything the CHOTA went through, and while his resentment for the White Crow was clear, he also had some trouble dealing with others and trusting others.  Madness seemed to be what he was trying to run from, bitterness is what tempered him, and conflict is what shaped him.  Killing was all he knew to do, survival was the same to him as life and death.  But deep down in that void, he wondered besides the clones he knew at Facility 51, were there others like him?  Did they have the same issue with what he went through?  He wondered and in that cave as the storm roared outside, he wondered, looking down at his collar he just couldn't shake that thought from the back part of his mind.  Were there others like him?  Taking his gloves off, and undoing his headwrap, he took his left hand brought it up to his collar, and pressed the button.  The green light came on indicating the built in microphone was working, and at first he could hear static, but then it would clear up.  Taking a deep breath this would be the first time he tried to make contact with anyone since the Day of Reckoning.  Clearing his throat he became to speak the words he best could convey to this vast barren land in hopes for any contact.........

 

"My name is Maddox, Maddox Maxxinsky, I am a wandier, and drifter out here. My original designation was LN-776 at Facility 51.  We were bred and kept as an expendable labor force by the White Crow there for as livestock for organs to be harvested, slaves for their goals, and conditioned as expendable soldiers.  I speak this message seeking others like me in hopes to make contact with and hopefully find a place I can call home.  I don't know if anyone is out there, I can only hope, and try that maybe someone is listening and guide me to safety."

 

The message was concluded all he could do was program the radio transmitter on his collar to repeat the message in broadcast every five minutes.  He took time as he curled up near the rocky wall as he took his headwrap and bundled it up like a small pillow and took his duster and used it for a blanket.  He had wandered for nearly a week, scavenging, foraging, and hunting.  He didn't mind the simple life but now he just wanted to find someplace to give him a roof over his head, and the comfort of others.  All he could do was close his weary eyes, and pray someone will answer.  For some reason, all his mind could do was put faith into something higher.  

 

(I wanted to take time to say thank you for letting me register with Fallen Earth RP Haven and create this character.  I have had this character for almost a few days, and was hopeing to find someplace to expand on his development.  I hope to make a lot of friends here, and also meet new people.  I hope to hear from everyone, and get the opportunity to rp with folks on here too and in game also.  Thank you, and be glad to hear from you.)

 

 

 

Comments

Ardenn's picture

(( .... Is that an EVE headshot? XD ))

Ardenn had a Migraine that morning. More things than usual were buzzing around his head and he had a feeling the rest of the week was going to be a crappy one. Then again, living in the canyon, most days were crappy, unless he got some work, gave some work, or managed to crawl into a warm bed and sleep for a couple days. Amongst the other duties he had to do that day, the buzzing frequency on his collar had stopped playing the ancient classical music he'd fallen asleep to and was now playing some young kid's repeat call of assistance.

Crawling out of bed, wincing to every churning clank made by the pumpjacks in the city of Oilville and the buzzing of his radio not quite being ont he right line, he made his way to the Franklins office to pick up letters and send a response back to the transmission.

"To Whom it may concern. If you need food and basic directions, Reapers Flask is open on Tuesdays in Oilville, Sector One. If you can find your way into my town, there will be people around to offer help or at least a little conversation. I suggest you come Armed though, and give some respect to the locals. We get CHOTA here pretty often that have no issues with solving issues with violence. Maybe we can help each other out. I'll even give you some blue chips if you can bring in some dead animal for me to cook. Ask for Ardenn, if Im not there already."

Taking the time to write some other letters before pressing them into the hands of another rider, Ardenn headed back tot he hotel to lay down and hold a pillow ofer his head, hoping the voices in his head would shut up soon. Telepathy was such a pain in the ass.

Current Status; Fully Operational, Slightly Cheesy

logmasterresize_zps1erg6hkf.jpg

“I destroy my enemies when I make them my friends”

Maddox Maxxinsky's picture

(Not sure, I was trying to rumage through some pictures on the net to relate to the story.  But always open to ideas.)

If you want me to give you any sympathy?  Well here it is, take my barrel, put it in your mouth and start sucking as I pull the trigger and blow your brains out.  Cause you're fucked up either way.  

Ardenn's picture

(( Mostly just asked because the render was too clean to be from FE. it probaly is EVE. they have some really nice character creation stuff. ))

Current Status; Fully Operational, Slightly Cheesy

logmasterresize_zps1erg6hkf.jpg

“I destroy my enemies when I make them my friends”

Maddox Maxxinsky's picture

(Well like I said was mainly just looking through pictures on the net to add to the entry.  But yeah, it does have some nice clean graphic.)

If you want me to give you any sympathy?  Well here it is, take my barrel, put it in your mouth and start sucking as I pull the trigger and blow your brains out.  Cause you're fucked up either way.  

Maddox Maxxinsky's picture

Laying asleep in the cave the storm passed.  He overheard a frequency coming in.  His old nag was bumping him with his nose, and he woke up.  He paused for a moment as he heard a message coming in on his collar. Could it be true?  A response?  He took time to listen in carefully as the message gave directions to a location, and what days it was open. Oilville?  He pulled out the rough drawn map of the sector as he unfolded it, reviewed it, and also took scrap paper and also a crude made pencil and began writing down everything.  Taking his lensatic compass he opened it up, looked at the map, calculated the varying difference in magnetic degree.  Looked though the guide side, picked out a landmark to take a bearing to get his azimuth and find his direction.  After looking onto the general direction in horizon, he looked at the degree on the compass and back to the horizon.  Folding the compass back up he tucked it back into his duster coat.  The horse was snorting he was hungry.  In due time he was going to needto get another, but the thing had gotten him this far there was no need to waste a descent ride.  He thought about responding back but right noe rather just get his rest in, then possibly mount up and go.  He thought to himself about the CHOTA and having to come armed.  Course the best thing was to mind his manners and his P's and Q's.  Hopefully this could be a start to get to where he needed to go.

If you want me to give you any sympathy?  Well here it is, take my barrel, put it in your mouth and start sucking as I pull the trigger and blow your brains out.  Cause you're fucked up either way.  



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