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Fire In The Sky

Fire In The Sky

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1x1 between TheCrimsonLady and TheHaze

1,160 readers have visited Fire In The Sky since TheCrimsonLady created it.

Copyright: The creator of this roleplay has attributed some or all of its content to the following sources:

based off of our characters in sky on fire

Introduction

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Korn- Coming Undone Seether-Fake It Sarcasm-Get Scared
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a very well-equipped group of eco-terrorists, disgusted by the rampant industrialization in the U.S and abroad, planned a massive attack. They disabled most of U.S. energy grid by bombing plants and pipelines, opened up zoos and animal testing labs, and sabotaged multiple work-sites.

However, they also released a biological weapon in major cities that caused sudden and uncontrolled plant growth, which led to a complete societal breakdown in a matter of weeks as cities were destroyed by trees and vines. The weapon was released as an attempt to remove the bloated human population and force humanity back to a rural setting, as they didn't anticipate the weapon spreading outside urban areas. For a while, though, those areas were safe from both the rapid plant growth and the massive hordes of feral animals that now roamed the city streets.

Unfortunately, these hastily fortified towns and ad-hoc tent cities soon came under attack by something else. While the bio-weapon was only supposed to alter plant matter, it also altered and turbo-charged something else: Disease.

A single common pigeon, infected by a cocktail of urban pestilence, became a carrier for something terrible.

It quickly transferred it to patient zero, one of the agents responsible for the attacks. He died quickly and painfully, only to get right back up. Towns prepared to fend off feral dogs and zoo animals soon came under siege by a wave of howling and putrid monsters. Most of humanity was overrun. America had gone from vibrant to green and silent in a matter of weeks...


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Lolly Matthews
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The Hacker
FC: Hannah John-Kamen
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Steve Arnette
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The Vargent
FC: Richard Harmon


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The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 2 authors

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Character Portrait: Lolly Matthews Character Portrait: Steve Arnette
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There is nothing but Before and After, now. "Before", was when the world still stood, people overpopulated the planet, bustling through the life some -most- believe there is a tomorrow.
There was not.

It all came crashing down one thing after another one day and then the "After" began.

Before. Lolly had been on her way home from work. She was probably you're most stereotypical barista a person could ever meet. She had her dark hair swept up in a ponytail, her Starbucks cap resting atop her head, her ponytail sticking through the back, and an ever-present look of disinterest on her face. She was the one that got even the simplest of names wrong but She did that on purpose and only when a person came in with an annoyingly specific order, like with exact measurements, or made a comment about her name being Lola. She would give them a look that read. "No, I do not like being called Lola Bunny." There was something about the look of distant that brought a smile on her face when she wrote something completely wrong.

She wasn't actually a barista, or at least not JUST a barista. She was an engineer, with a college degree in Mechanical Engineering, but that took so much money, she had to work, a lot to pay for the schooling, barely got any sleep, and needed to pay bills for her and her Grandmother. Yani as she called her. As sweet Haitian lady who had a remedy for everything. She called herself a voodoo priestess, but Lolly was dubious about that, and many of the things she did. She always believed in some judgment day and stockpiled for such an event. She even believed that Hell would run out of room and all of that evil, damned and sinful spirits would walk the earth. Lolly didn't think too much on that. It didn't matter to her, though, the woman raised her when her parents couldn't-or wouldn't. They thought it best that she stay in one city, one country, the one they defended. Fair enough, she supposed, but she had little love for them. Not for lack of trying but she just couldn't bring herself to care that much for people she really didn't know.

She sat in traffic in her clunker of a vehicle. She wouldn't call it a truck, a vehicle suffice because it got her from point A to point B, it wasn't pretty, and it had an attitude most days, so calling it anything else would have been kind.

She kept it running, but with old parts, she managed to scrape together from Yani's friends and neighbors. They, much like the parts they provided, were all old. For the longest time, Lolly had been the only child on the block. Occasionally, kids would show up, visiting grandparents, and a few times she'd made friends but they never stayed long. Not many would blame her for being a loner, and with her odd love of anything metal (not the music) her school days hanging in the metal shop and computer classes made sure she was not the friendly sort.

She didn't know why she had been thinking all of this at that moment, perhaps her subconscious knew something was coming and was feeling somewhat nostalgic, knowing the end was near and the After was coming.

She pulled the hat off of her head and tossed into the passenger seat and sighed. She reeked of burned coffee beans, whipped cream, and hipsters, and she couldn't wait to hit the showers and grab her computer.
That little piece of equipment was the only thing that gave her provincial life excitement. She would browse hacker forums at night, chatting up with hackers from around the world, her mind understood the code in a way an artist might understand colors. It just clicked. She wished when she had been coming up, this sort of things was cool, but she was a 90's kid, that wasn't what people did then.
Suddenly, something pulse and the radio that hadn't worked in years fizzled and popped, the engine in the truck died. Lolly, feeling frantic, fought with the pedals, pumping her foot like she was river dancing. She looked outside of the truck window, finding this wasn't just her bad luck, it was everyones. She didn't dare step out of the car, but she did narrow her eyes passed the traffic and to the sky. A dark cloud began to form. She was miles from any real city, but even from here, the Boston skyline was visible...or it was. Darkness covered the sky like night had decided to come early and Lolly felt fear like she couldn't believe. What the hell was going on. She looked at her phone. Dead. She should figure as much, but that just meant that pulse that she felt, was an EMP, or she guessed it was and the smoke....

"No..." She breathed. "There was no way." She couldn't believe that she thought, but if that was what she thought it was, then she was doomed regardless. A Bomb....of a nuclear nature.

No...It couldn't be, a Nuclear bomb would make the epicenter a parking lot and the nearest area inhabitable immediately....Unless it was small.
Yes, it had to be a small one, even still, the wind would carry the radiation. She had to get underground or...or.

She stopped trying to think, if she did, this would get more and more impossible. Could Yani be right? Was this then end of days?

The moment Yani crossed her mind, Lolly hoped out of the car and darted home. She could walk from here. Snow fell...no...Ash fell, as night crept closer and closer. A nuclear winter would be on its way.... ad they would likely be dead before then it that was true. Lolly ran the thirty miles home, where she'd lived her entire 24 years and prayed to whatever God, Loa, or what have you was listening that her grandmother was still alright.


Lolly woke up with a start, not wanting to relive that day in her dreams. She sat up from her cot and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. she'd have to get moving again if she wanted to, ya know, live. Staying in one place for too long was dangerous, a good way to get dead. She tried that but turns out death was not for her, at least not on her own terms anyway. She got to her feet and gathered her things, all which could fit in a hiker's bag and got moving. To where, she didn't know, from where, well, that was pretty simple. As far away from the Dead as possible.

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Character Portrait: Lolly Matthews Character Portrait: Steve Arnette
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#, as written by TheHaze
He didn't know how long he’d been running. It felt like days had gone by, him tearing through the undergrowth, skin shredded by vines and the teeth of those fucking dogs. The dogs. He was certain he could hear them, tracking him. Must have gotten tired tearing apart his friends after they got dragged off. He didn’t know where to, didn’t want to know. He had run away after all, hadn’t he? Can’t go back. Not now. They wouldn’t have him back, it was supposed to be a simple job. A simple fucking job. Look for people, kill the people, take their shit. Boss takes his cut, you get yours, repeat. He should’ve been able to handle it, hell, his crew definitely should have. They were all scum before it went down: Thieves, rapists, killers, thugs, convicts, vile to the man. They said they were, anyway, some seemed as scared as he was. Yeah, scared as the fucking accountant. Right. He didn’t want to do this shit, anyway. It wasn’t fair. He had been starving, they gave him shelter, food, a gun, and a job. It was only polite, right? He didn’t deserve this! He didn’t deserve...to die. He finally tripped, too caught up in his thoughts to look where he was going. Maybe his legs gave out, he was kind of amazed he’d made it that far, honestly. Either way, he wasn’t going any further. He rolled himself over with a grunt, spitting out a clump of grass.

The man looked up at sky, tears stinging his eyes. Even through his watery vision, he could see the sun, blue sky, the green. The Green. Prettiest it’s ever been. Which was true. As bad as it was, the city used to be choked in smog and filled with the roar of machinery day and night. You never saw the stars, never saw a wild animal. Now, it was so calm, so quiet. A beautiful hell.... The bandit sniffled, a weak smile spreading on his bruised face. His thundering heartbeat slowed as he felt himself settle into the mossy patch he had collapsed in, letting out a weary sigh. He could’ve fallen asleep right then. He was out of the way, hidden, and he was a small man, nobody would find him. Maybe the dead would, but if they did it would be quicker than what those dogs would do to him. So, the bandit wriggled his way to a softer spot of moss, wedged between a bus and some kind of delicatessen, long since collapsed. He forced himself to relax, covering himself with his tattered camo blanket, and started to sink into sleep. Maybe he’d start dreaming again. Something good. His wife, maybe? And so, with a raspy yawn, the former accountant fell into a deep sle- What was that?

He ripped the blanket off, looking around wildly. Whatever exhaustion he had felt had been erased in a sudden blast of terror. He had heard a dog. He swore he heard a dog. He scanned the undergrowth, catching a glimpse of something metal glinting as it flashed between a set of trees. A gun? No... A collar. He screamed, loudly. It sounded shrill and small, and he couldn’t help but feel ashamed as he desperately tried to claw his way up the side of the bus. He could hear them now, on the wind. A chorus of yips, barks, howls and snapping jaws, grower closer by the second. Ohnonononono- He tried to get a grip on the roof, only managing to tear off some of his fingernails. Ohjesusgodnononoplease- He turned, immediately burying his head back in the moss as he saw the shadows coming around the corner. He started to sobbing in earnest, like a child, scrunching himself into a ball as the cacophony grew closer and louder by the second. It only took a few seconds for them to come upon him. He could hear their breath, their scrabbling paws, their eager barking. They were going to tear him limb from limb, and the last thing he would hear would be... silence?

He still heard the dogs. They hadn’t killed him yet. He didn’t know why, so he turned, still huddled protectively in a ball. He didn’t react when he saw the fuzzy blob in his vision, numb to any more fear. He blinked the tears out of his vision and saw what he was looking at: A pug. A fucking pug. A dumpy, fat-faced little pug was staring him right in the eyes with it’s stupid, bug-eyed mug. He couldn’t help it. The bandit let out a mad little giggle, half-crying at his own stupidity. Had his brain fucked him over that badly? He imagined all that, only to run into a pug? The potato of dogs? It still had his little collar on and everything. He’s Grumbles. Says it right there, Johnny. Grumbles. Haha. He almost wanted to pet it and strangle it at the same time, until he looked up at what was behind it.

Johnny felt his bladder go. He couldn't help it, not anymore. Not after this. Dogs. Fucking dogs everywhere. Hundreds of them. Small dogs, big dogs. They looked almost normal. Almost. He saw the dogs, former friends and guardians, and felt that sense of...something. Something telling him that these were man’s best friend. Instinct? No, not instinct. His instincts were making him feel something older, older even than the strange comfort of having a canine at your side. The feeling that cavemen got around the fire, when they saw the eyes in the dark. He felt like prey. He knew why, it was how they looked. They looked just wrong enough. They were spattered with blood and filth, no doubt from his friends and any dead they ran down. Some were missing eyes and ears, some were balancing on three legs, some looked sick and wizened. Their clothes were tattered, missing articles, bulging with overgrown fur or hanging loosely on emaciated frames. Some had leashes trailing behind them and a fair number had collars, twinkling like stars in the dark. Three had K-9 vests. One was clearly a service dog. Some had owners after the end, he could tell. They were painted crudely, or armored with scrap. Some had bones woven into their fur or brands on their flanks. Even the ones who looked like they were ready for the showroom floor had a savagery to them. One Afghan hound had a boot in its mouth. There was still a foot in it. They weren’t pets anymore. They were beasts. And they were right there and they weren’t doing anything. Then, Johnny saw why.

There was a man, standing in the middle of the pack. He had his arm raised, like he was telling a group of soldiers to halt. He is, I guess. Johnny stared petrified as the man slowly lowered his arm and started to move towards. Dogs parted in his path, swarming back into place as soon as he moved past them, whining eagerly. All Johnny could hear, other than the uneasy fidgeting of the dogs, was the sounds of the mask the man wore, some kind of respirator. Military? No, he... He looked like shit, even compared to the usual unlucky fucks who found themselves streetside. Thin, crazy-eyed, covered in scratches and bites from dogs and god knows what else. He couldn’t be Army. He didn’t look like a soldier, didn’t smell like a soldier, didn’t move like a soldier. He moved like an... Animal. Hungry, every movement deliberate, coiled and ready to fight at the drop of a hat, yet slow, saving himself. For me. The bandit felt his heart jutter in fear at the thought, mentally screaming in vain at himself to move, to fight. He could only stare blearily as the figure broke from the horde. He had a dog at his side. This one seemed closer to him, more like a companion than the ferals could ever be. It stuck by him even when the other dogs backed away, and the man didn’t swat it out of the way like the others. Grumbles snorted, snapping Johnny to attention, before obediently waddling out of the way. That left Johnny staring at a pair of boots. His gaze went slowly upward, stopping at the head of a weapon. A bat, the end a mess of nails and wire. It smelled awful, rust and rotting meat assailing his nostrils even through the massive stench of the throng of animals around him. There was a lock of red hair tangled up in the metal, a bit of bone still attached. Donnie was a redhead. He looked up before stopping at the man’s face, partially obscured by the sun behind him. There was no mercy in those eyes. Johnny silently whispered, shaking his head, as the man raised his hand again, slowly. The world went silent, the dogs waiting with baited breath for the command. Then the hand went down, and it exploded into an orgy of screams and howls.

Steve watched as the pack scattered into the city, trailing scraps of whatever was left of the bandit. That left him alone with Trajan once again. He let out an absentminded growl as he gazed into the sun. He had added six more kills to his name and had nothing to show for it but a pittance of food. Resting the bat on his shoulder, he looked around, before seeing Trajan tense. A small smile crossed his lips as Steve nodded to his companion.

β€œHear something, boy?”

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Character Portrait: Lolly Matthews Character Portrait: Steve Arnette
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"The literal fuck?" Lolly breathed as she gaped at the scene before her. blood, fresh blood, everywhere. It wasn't like it was some muncher attacking a poor soul who wandered to far -which would be her if she didn't keep it moving- but no, this was a massarce, giblets everywhere. It was as if someone or something went to town on this group, like coordinated. That was a terrfiying concept. The idea that these folks could very well be rationalzing? Making choices?

Dear God, don't let that be the case. If it was she might as well put an end to it all right here and now. Wouldn't be the first time she thought about it, either. She cleared the fog from her ski goggles, she wore them to make sure she had a clear line of sight and if she had to fight on of them off, she wouldn't get pieces or blood in her eyes, or anywhere else. She was wrapped up tight, her hair braided in a long ponytail and tucked so she wouldn't get it grabbed, a scarf around her mouth, it wasn't a heavy scarf, a night light thing that did have her burning up in the spring and summer, but kept her relatively warm in the fall. The only skin that was exposed were her ears this day but usually, they were covered by a hat of some sort.

Her destination- and by destination, she meant the place she thought seemed decent enough to go to- was up ahead, through the tall grass. There was a warehouse, something that might have some nails for her nail gun which she'd made battery powered and mobile. It was much easier than guns because they needed specific bullets which as far as she knew there weren't a lot of places here that she knew where to look for that sort of things and she knew her way around a nail gun. Nails were easily salvageable since they usually kept shit up and well, most things had fallen down for one reason or another and she could just pluck them and kept it moving.

Shaking her head, deciding she thought way too much, she started ahead, stepping over giblets and other human parts. Her nail gun poised just in case one of them decided they weren't dead enough yet. She crept across on her boot toes, trying to be a quiet as possible but her foot slipped on something and she yelped, trying not to fall into God only know what. She managed to keep herself upright but her yelp was loud and something snarled behind her. She whipped around, nail gun trained on whatever it was, but to her surprise, it was only a dog, which in the grand scheme of things probably wasn't ideal but humans seemed to be the worst case scenario. She was a girl, so if it had been a guy, she'd just have to shoot him and keep moving, as much as that would suck since being alone was beginning to really bite.
Thinking too much again, she focused on the dog, lowering her weapon some. She was crazy, not stupid.

"Take it easy, Pooch, I'm not gonna hurt ya." she said, holding up her hands in a somewhat surrender. "I'm just making my way downtown, walking fast, faces pass and I'm homebound." She said, wishing she could laugh at that little joke but she couldn't, this dog was likely going to kill her or she was going to kill and eat it. Besides, the dog didn't seem to get it anyway. "You could come with me if you'd like? I'm not gonna hurt ya," she offered, honestly, hoping the dog was, not only smart enough to understand what she was saying to it but just as lonely as she was.

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Character Portrait: Lolly Matthews
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Character Portrait: Steve Arnette
Steve Arnette

"Good boy."

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Lolly Matthews

"...so on a scale from Walking Dead to World War Z...how bad is this?"

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Character Portrait: Steve Arnette
Steve Arnette

"Good boy."

Character Portrait: Lolly Matthews
Lolly Matthews

"...so on a scale from Walking Dead to World War Z...how bad is this?"

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Character Portrait: Lolly Matthews
Lolly Matthews

"...so on a scale from Walking Dead to World War Z...how bad is this?"

Character Portrait: Steve Arnette
Steve Arnette

"Good boy."


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