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Muse's picture

Echoes of Memory - 6

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((Written to 'Cellphone's Dead' by Beck.))

Muse's picture

Echoes of Memory - 5

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((Written to 'Don't Mess Around With Jim' by Jim Croce.))

The schematics for Druuna's latest project continue to tumble through her thoughts as she and her horse amble into the small outpost at a trot. She leans forward slightly to pat her mount's neck when they slow further, "Here we are again at the edge of civilization eh' Bill?" Just a brief visit for several missing parts and her dune buggy frame would finally be complete.

daedaelus's picture

President Harry Pembroke Lives

**Message broadcasted on on AM 1070 radio and written versions posted in several frankin rider stations**

Scraps of paper.

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*Scraps of paper float along the wind near Embry Crossroads. On them is handwriting; that of a fifth grader; but it was eligible and readable.*

-and I dont know what to say about it all. This hostile wasteland gives nothing but scraps. I need to be careful what I eat from now on. Been reading news, not soo good, then became better, I don't know what been going on lately, News just gets interesting every day. Note, stop on by New Embry for more water, starting to run low on that. Food is horrible. Alcohol cleans the water. Tired as hell, hot in days, cool in nights.

daedaelus's picture

The shape of things to come

I wake up to the sound of F.D.C. troops at the range early in the morning. For a moment I think im still back in my marine days and i need to get ready for formation. Then it all hits me, im not when I am supposed to be. I am not who I was and this world is not home. The mission I am on reminds me of a suicide mission because no matter what there is no going home. It is usually the thought of going home to your partner and your kids that keep you fighting but that will not happen no matter the outcome.

JaxRiens's picture

Letters from the Road( Jax Riens Nomad Wanderings.

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(( due to real life i am going to have to leave fe for awhile, however i'll still be around, Jax has gone nomad which essentially means he is on his own, without the rest of Iron SIghts to deal with some things. in his journeys on the road he collects his thoughts by writing letters, some to his sister, others to Irina, the girl he left behind these are the letters you are reading them OOC))

Kiry,

In need of a new..uhh..what do they call them? Friend?

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((ooc))

Hello, I am sure some of you heard of me, well I need a new talkie thingy, it seems Reaper's schedule has left me alone at most days and i need a new talky-talk Friend-slave thingy that i can talk to on game.

Sarah Gunsmith's picture

Theory, Meet Practice

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((Author's note: Chronologically this story takes a week before Fallen Earth's launch day. The story opens with Sarah wandering around Plateau a few hours after the Cafe of Broken Dreams, her home, burnt down.))

 

Drua's Recordings 1: Outward Bound

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((Might as well start this now, knowing me I'm going to make a ton of these whenever I get bored! This is Drua's personal journal kept on a tape recorder in her bag, pretty much like any other IC journal here it's OOC unless somehow she lets you hear it or what have you. Comments more then welcome, pretty much anything but 'oh man you suck stop writing now you failure' is helpful!))

 

Fourth Transmission, By Dayna Mott

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<Another handheld playback device? This woman sure knows how to lose her equipment. The thing has a large play button. As soon as it is pressed The woman appears on the screen, this time she is wearing a Beret, Safety Goggles, A jacket with some plates for armor protecting her chest, mostly her bust, Black slacks, and black shoes As well as some black rubber gloves. The weapons she wore where simple; two 9mm berettas and a sharp ended palisade on the floor. The background is that of a dark steel laboratory like those found in the wastelands.

Driftstorm's picture

Welcome to the Families - A Reflection

 

 

Dingy motel room, Credit Bend, Sector 2

6:40PM

 

Third Transmission, By Dayna Mott

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<You come upon an old video device with its own screen and battery power. you hit the huge play button and the screen comes to life, in the video was a woman with no hair n her head, dark eyes, and markings along her face, she was wearing a brown duster with black cowboy pants. She had a large gash on her left eye from some accident.>


This is Dayna Mott, I am here to report that the mutant breeding was unsucessful and project was terminated, due to recent events i have decided to go the militaristic route of my research..


This includes shielding, advanced biological weaponry, advanced armor designs, and genetic mutations.


I would like all techs who recieve this transmission, to join me in the R&D of certain weepons that challenge even the morality of combat.

Muse's picture

Echoes of Memory - 4

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((Written to 'Timebomb' by Beck.))

Muse's picture

Echoes of Memory - 3

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((Written to 'I Could Die For You' by the Red Hot Chili Peppers.))

She triumphantly tugs a makeshift wrench from the assortment of cobbled tools she's been sifting through, satisfaction evident on her grease-smudged features as she flits away from the countertop to glance down at the seemingly haphazard arrangement of schematics draped over a nearby table.

Soahl's picture

Human League Dossier: Mikayla Vay

>>-----------------------------------------------------------------------

>>Welcome to the Clone Surveillance Database, version 5.1.4

>>------------------------------------------------------------------------

>>

>>Enter Command String

>>

>>07112157:2034

>>

>>Loading File…

>>

First Journal Entry, by Dayna, recieving transmission.

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<Coming onto this transmission, it seems to be powered by a set of batteries. It has its own screen, with a couple buttons. the only big one on it was a huge "PLAY" button. soo simple even a CHOTA can do it.>

Wandering pt 1 (Journal of Aidan Wolfe)

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((This is not a written journal, more of a what has happened to this point for people to get to know Aidan, at least for you in an OOC way. Any of this may or may not come out should you end up RPing with him. He's not a writing type, but he is a reflective type at times and so these are his thoughts and a mix of events basically.))

What ever happened to the old ways?

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What ever happened to the old ways?

The Ball-peen hammer hit the knuckle on the man's hand with a sickening crunch. The scream that followed was something from the throat of a dying animal. Sal took a step back while the man who just had his knuckle crushed tried to jerk himself free from the chair he was tied hard on to. The ropes strained by the thrashing of the pain stricken man - but they held.

Archer's picture

Burning Off the Leeches

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The removal of a leech is quite simple. However, the leeches that Archer is dealing with, will require more than a lit cigar or flame to remove...

((Please note that these are NOT the Leeches of Invicta even though IC Archer thinks they are. Everything will be explained in another post))

 

Muse's picture

Echoes of Memory - 2

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((Written to 'If You Tolerate This' by the Manic Street Preachers.))

Muse's picture

Echoes of Memory - 1

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((Written to 'How You've Grown' by Natalie Merchant and the 10,000 Maniacs.))

Archer's picture

Archer: Ghost of The Old World

"I don't know, Ethan. Something tells me that the shit is about to hit the fan."

-Tony Archer to Ethan Reynolds 1 year, 6 months, and 4 days before the Shiva Outbreak

 

 

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Roberto Torrente's picture

Robbie's Journal- Entry 3

Well, it was bound to happen again. I got into something a little over my head, and next thing I know I'm waking up in a damn LifeNet facility. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to have the ability to live after taking a hatchet to the skull, but that doesn't mean the memory of pain goes away. I have GOT to be more careful. I'm just not all that great at this sniper thing yet.


I traded my old reliable airgun for a shotgun, and I'm wondering if it was smart. I like the power this thing has, but only holding 2 shots makes me get out the pistol more. I can't hit anything with a pistol, so I can see this being trouble at some point.


Met another one of the Saints' people, a newer one like me, named Druuna- she seems to be a great girl. Thinks a lot like me so far, and has really made me stop and consider some things. Maybe I found someone to talk to and keep my head straight.

Roberto Torrente's picture

Robbie's Journal- Entry 2

I haven't exactly been a writing force, have I?

Nothing much has changed. The world is what it is, wrecked and barren and full of people determined to put bleeding holes in other people.  And even as a clone, knowing that if the worst happened I'll pop right back out of a machine- it scares me sometimes. The near-immortality is not a bad thing, I don't think. I like living. I won't kid myself. But dying once is something to dread. Doing it over and over again is to be avoided entirely. It's no picnic.

Sarah Gunsmith's picture

23 Seconds

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The bed was a handmade wooden frame; the mattress a hard foam that gave way to her body heat; the sheets were the best cotton available, hardly tattered at all and running all the way up to her neck; the pillows, soft masses of feathers bundled together with more cotton. Sarah lay there quietly, her breathing soft and regular as oxygen hissed through a tube around her nose. Occasionally she’d twitch reflexively, as if trying to regain her balance, only for her body to remember it didn’t need regaining.

Roberto Torrente's picture

Robbie's Journal- Entry 1

I found a pen. Funny how there are all sorts of things lying around, just waiting to be picked up and used, but something as simple as a pen and decent paper is scarce. I guess we go back to the basics when pressed hard, and they were all snatched up and used long before Lifenet decided it wanted me active again. Which is another funny idea, how random that choice seems..but I won't think about it too hard. It isn't good for me.

Junkjack's picture

Coyote

((this is just for the fun, I was musing some time ago out in the wastes getting some ambient chill time, and was watching a pack of Coyote in the distance when my mind sort of wndered into this story idea.))

 

I must record this, it makes me luagh now when I think on it.

I was hunkering down one evening out in the wastes, a few miles from any town or outpost. I built a fire under the shelter of a small tree on a low rise. I had tied my food up in the tree with a rope pegged at the base and was just stokeing up my fire ready to get into my bedroll.

Green Vyper, The wandering Finger-Eater

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OOC

 

Helle there, I finally made it to the forum, Even If I'm really bad about keepin' such activitys up-to-date.

Alos excuse my english but I am a french speaking person.

I'm not gonna introduce or detail my character since her background remains really secret to the community at the moment.

Just wanted to let the RPing community know that if they are in need of an "explicit" CHOTA character for any events or scenario, I'm one.

I adapt my role-play a lot, from mature to very explicit, depending on poeples I play with at an X moment.

 

Spookshow's picture

Damaged goods.

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widdor's picture

The life of the Widd

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by Dr. Radut