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The Wastelands

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Bio-Terror:
The wind howled as a dark figure raced across the desert plains. The sun was going down as darkness crept in. It would be freezing soon. A low hum came from the engine of the ancient speeder. One of the only ones in existance from the Old Earth. It's once steel casing had rusted to a near vibrant red. Wires appeared to of escaped in places, and there was an occasional spark emitting from the engine. Marcus leaned forward to gain some speed. Time was running out.

The sky had now turned a hazy orange, and half the sun disappeared behind the mountians. Trying to fight off exhaustion, Marcus pinched his face. His sight became hazy, his eyes drooped, and he could feel his grip loosen.....BANG!! The front of the speeder went out of control. He tried to steer it still, not bothering to stop. A small fire had ignited the engine! Linda...she....she needs me.

He was trying not to panic, but the hopelessness of the situation was seeping in. He turned suddenly, flying right out of his seat. His speeder skidded on it's side, which put out the fire. It stopped inches from his head. His vision began to blur. Crawling towards his speeder he felt for his gun. After blindly tossing his hand, he grasped the strap. He tried to stand, it took all his might just to do it.

Darkness sweeped over the desert wastes, swallowing the light and engulfing Marcus in blackness. He stumbled a bit before falling to his knees. Linda...Linda... In silence he fell.

[OOC] I just want to say that this is based in an apocoliptic future where most technologies(phones, firepower, cars, etc.) have been buried under the sands. Most people are afraid of technology, although others use it to better themselves. Not many people have even seen guns. And lastly, Marcus isnt dead, he just needs some help :)

Lanfear57:
Darius was watching his sunset like he always did. It was his, and his alone. No one else was ever around to see it, and he liked it that way. It was almost sacred to him, he calmed himself, and collected his thoughts and, he thought, some last remnant of warmth from the retreating sun then.
Darius saw a shadow cross his sunset. His sunset Little more than a fuzz in the wind, but he knew it was big enough to be something alive, at least for now.
And his was one of the few caves with clean water for miles. It was a fight to keep it clean, too.
Lighting a quick fire and filling a skin of some other unfortunate creature with his precious water, he struck out over the now cold sand toward where he saw the blur fall.
At least I lizaded when they was still lazy on tha rocks. They wez lots of em too, fer once.
As Darius approached the blur, he looked back to make sure his fire was still burning. It was: he had learned over the years how to make them last long and hot in this place.
Darius nudged the lump of a body with his foot. "Yeh still with me? eh?"
He kneeled down next to the man and rolled him over so he could dribble some of the water in his mouth.
"Come on, then. Yez still breathin. Wake up now."

Nobody:
Cain rode his pack camel quickly through the desert. Striding at over 15 feet tall, the pack camels resembled nothing of ancient earth's camels. Genetic engineering had changed and created many species of animal. This was one. Able to run for great durations at high speeds, and able to survive for two months without water, these animals were invaluable in the desert.

Cain was on a hunt. His quarry was named Darius, and it had eluded him far too long. Cain hoped that the duration of his Pack Camel was greater than Darius's mount, or else he would be eluded by yet one more person.

Scrasamax:
Szithar, late of the Skikudis tribe of scavengers mounted a low rise, surveying the bleak and blasted landscape through a polarized glass filter. The glass reflected back green light, letting Szithar see quite well despite the often blinding glare. The heat was intense, but the Skikudis didnt fear things like a bit of heat. Szithar could feel a trickle of sweat run down it's spine, buried deep underneath several layers of polymer sheathing, and scavenged steel and synthmetal plates. The sweat was fine, the suit would catch it, draw it through a filter in an hour or so it would be drinking water.

As the sun finally dropped, Szithar came across fresh animal tracks, some sort of camel, and another creature. Either lost, explorers, or criminals to be out this far from an outpost or bunker. Szithar hefted it's bam-stick and turned to follow the trail where it might lead. Traveling with company was safer, and if it turned out that the others were weak, well survival was survival. The heap of scrap metal and plastic moved towards a distant flicker of a fire.

(OOC - The Skikudis should be fairly well known, most tell that they used to be human, but were eaten and spit out as monsterous hunks of junk. Others tell that they are demons of destroyed technology, left broken to scout the wastelands for the remaining peaces of their greatness. Stories aside, the Skikudis are survivors, scavengers of technology, the pieces if not actual devices, and the stories of murder, rape and cannibalism are not quite justified. Either way, most people give the metal clad creatures a good deal of respect, and a wide bearth as well.)

Lanfear57:
"Right then. Yeh'll hafta get better back in me rock then."
Picking up the barely breathing body in his sturdy arms, Darius started carrying him back towards his fire in his cave.
The moon shone cold down on him, and his neck prickled.
Nah, one man out here's odd enough. There's little life to go aroun to have me thinkin I'm watched
At his cave he set the man down near to the fire to warm him but not scorch him, and went to check his "lizad" snares. They were empty, as expected. "Awweell. I'll get usm a cupple from the cold rock."
He went and dribbled some more water in the mans mouth, and then went to a corner of the cave that had never seen sunlight, or live critters, as far as Darius knew. From there he grabbed 2 very dead, very frozen lizards and some sharpened sticks.
Putting the lizards by the fire, he waited for them to thaw enough to skewer and then roasted them, setting one aside for the unconscious man.

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