Futuristic Rebuild From What We Destroyed. (Private)

[VyotteVylicious]

Aphilia​

Just like any other day, it was on the planet many would call the Dead Zone, Aphilia, dry. The land that once grew with the lush greens of grass and the voluminous growth of flora now laid a barren land. Hard sand that crunched beneath the shoes of the survivors, the sun scorching down upon them with unforgivable rays of light, no liquids insight, only the oranged tinge of death. Mother nature had deserted them, turned her back against the very nature she had created but was she to blame? As those who came to inhabit Aphilia soon turned it into what Old Earth is, a rock, a fragment of memory that dies with many generations pass.

Radiation riddles the planet like a blanket, coaxing it to its eternal slumber while the rest of the galaxy flourished beyond. Mutants now roamed the open while factions of survivers now build a wall, protecting themselves from such monstrosity as well as radiation poisoning. Some weak against it, while others remain immune. All fighting for their own survival, all wanting to see another day, holding hopes in their heart that this world would return to its former glory. But will they?

Amity​

A woman with hair that flowed slightly below her collar bones, stark white as the fresh bed of snow, skin a golden olive tan, eyes of chocolate brown. She wore simple items of clothing, a red flannel over a white tank top, sleeves rolled up above her elbows for easy movement, a pair of regular jeans and black combat boots. She had a gentle smile to those who she was serving food for lunch, the woman kept her smile but it was not forced, nothing she did was forced as it was her free will. Sweat rolling off her forehead from the heat, soaking the baby hairs that clung to her face. Lilium Monroe is what many called this woman by and the leader to the Amity faction that she built based on protecting those who could not protect themselves. She made a home for those who had lost theirs, she helped restore the slither of faith within the survivors that came through the Amity gates.

However, Amity was far from anything grand compared to the many other faction bases around. They were located in the far corner of the planet, resources were low due to the fact that Scarlet Cord had already looted it all. Not to mention, killed off many of their scavengers during a hunt, such a thought bore deep hatred for such a faction but Lilium did not voice such an opinion out loud. The base that Amity resides was undergoing constructions, the wall that kept the mutants away was in the process of having led install to keep the radiation at bay. Ladders, wires, tents were all set up as the many women and men were hard at work, the smell of rusting metal and sawdust filled the air around them, the sounds of hammers, drills, saws, and the yells from the workers filled each day with hope. A place for them to call home was Lilium’s goal, just like the rest of Amity, she too wanted a place where she could sleep peacefully at night.

“Lilium? LILIUM!”

The static and fuzz was sharp in her earpiece before a voice came through. She flinched light as she turned away from the serving table.

“Andrealphus?”

She called a name to the voice, one of her scavengers that went out looking for more resources that they could benefit from.

“We have a problem. Scarlet Cord.”

He said quickly in a hushed manner. Lilium frowned, this doesn’t sound good, what now? She thought to herself as she handed the ladle she was holding to another who was helping her serve lunch. She walked to a more remote part of the base, where she could hear Andrealphus clearly and where no one could hear her.

“What’s going on? Where are you?”

There was worry in her voice as she cursed herself for sending them out but how would she know when Scarlet Cord was going on one of their rounds. Yet, she still blamed herself as she always had each time a scavenger group never returned.

“They're here, they-...shit”

And with that, gunfire could be heard in the background. A lump formed in Lilium’s throat, her chest tightened at the sound but it soon turned into static again. Her jaw was clenched tightly as she had to gather her thoughts, her tears forcing itself through but she could not break down now, not with everyone watching. Lilium bent over slightly, both hands on each knee as she took a deep breath with her eyes closed. You can’t, not now, you can’t cry now, she kept telling herself. After a minute or so, she pulled her body back up, standing tall as before but this time with a forced smile on her face as she returned back to where a crowd now had gathered for food.

Desert Lands​

“Shit...shit..shit..”

Andrealphus had kept cursing since the first gunfire, he was now like the rest of his team, hiding behind something that would serve as protection. He had his gun close and loaded but he had yet to fire, he was a patient man but also a fearful one when it came to Scarlet Cord. He did not wish to lose his life by the hands of these degenerates, his heart now racing as the sweat coated his ebony skin, giving it shine under the sunlight. Red ruby eyes darting from left to right with each sound that was made, his hair flared with tight curls neatly shaped and cut but dust and dirt had found itself within, causing a cast of light brown on the top.

He turned the corner a peek but pulled back right away as a bullet came rushing through, a scab away from catching him between the eyes. He thought he saw his soul left his body for a moment, a small escape from a quick death.

“Shit..”

He said again which was the only words he could bring himself to say at this current moment.

A golden blonde woman amongst the other members of Scarlet Cord was visible, she waited inside the utility vehicle as she was told too. But out the window, she had her sniper rifle ready, watching at a distance, ready to catch those who seem to not notice her. Her breathing was steady but heavy under her black scarf, her vivid green eyes once matched the grasslands of Aphilia but now they were as hollow as a dead woman walking. She wore a light tank top that seen better days, and tight shorts that exposed most of her legs, something to cool her body off in the heat, and pale skin seemed to always remain as it is even as much sun she gets.

She looked as scared as those of Amity but she bore the mark of Scarlet Cord, why? Because it wasn’t her choice to where she had fallen. Beriadanwen had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, being captured while she wandered the open desert and forced into what she considered slavery. But she dared not defy those in Scarlet Cord, she knows what sort of people that rest within their base, she knows of the punishment, and neither did she wish to be inflicted on her again. Each day was like waking up in hell, she never knew when she would get burn with a touch but each day was also a blessing.

“I can’t see the targets”

She spoke, her voice a monotone before pulling her eyes away from the scope. She could hear the men shouting with joy, this to them was entertainment. This was a hunt of sport and one where Beriadanwen felt sick to her stomach each time she was forced out with them.

r72666

 

[r72666]

When the world has gone to shit and there are literal monsters roaming what is left of it, people start to lose focus and begin to question themselves and the point of even continuing on in such desperate conditions. Purpose became a myth, and each day - nothing more than the rattling gasp of the stubborn and already dead. In the face of this, humanity had always turned to faith as a possible answer. Nebulous as always, it strove to give meaning to the unknown and the uncertain. Faith was nothing more or less than an absolute guess, but it kept you going and fed you the most delectable poison humanity has yet to concoct: hope. A cyclical machine, faith fed the dying hope, and so the hopeful clung with full bellies to faith who would in turn prepare another feast. Everything else was filler; there is only this one central facet. And that is the Rule of Eld: faith is hope; hope is faith.

Undisclosed Location​

"Decurion, the perimeter is secured," a crisp feminine voice reported. She was dressed in a cream colored blouse, jeans, and sneakers. Back straight and gaze fully ahead, she held a fist above her heart as she reported, like everyone else beside her in a half-circle. They were much like soldiers before a commanding officer.

"Good," came the simple, curt, reply, "Report."

There were around a dozen or so of them, all clad in everyday attire and gathered around a campfire. Folk from all walks of this new life: scavenger, hunter, gatherer, tinkerer, writer, looter, murderer. The rule cared not. Situated in a clearing among the grass in the open plains, these people were open targets, though technically this was considered neutral grounds. But they didn't fear a raid nor an attack because they were, all of them, faithful. The moon shone on them and the night favored them with a steady breeze.

"The Cord won't come 'ere. Too busy with Amity," there was a scoff from the short, stocky, man who started off the proceedings. He continued, his accent thick and voice mostly amused.

"Heh, we're all jus' so bored these days. Even go' time ta go around lookin' for someone ta try out. Lass by the name o' Beriadanwen. Ye think she'd was suckin' on lemons every time. Fell inta the wrong crowd, mebbe. Will talk ta 'er and see what she thinks o' us. Maybe let her c'mere," here he paused and tsked. "I'm gettin' soft, I am."

"Be sure of her first," the Decurion replied to the general assent of those gathered. "Not everyone can do what we do."

"Aye, boss," was all that needed to be said from the man, his hand over his heart to show his sincerity.

"My turn, then," came from a pleasant voice, sotto voce, almost lost in the wind. "Amity is cheerful as always. Always such a bustling place with people milling about. Oh, but I digress," she ended with a titter, her hand up to cover her mouth in what seemed to be an abashed gesture. She was lithe and willowy, almost swaying as she spoke.

"Lilium is ever the dear for setting it all up. Mm, but there is little to share on my end. Amity is growing, and might continue to if they can handle the Scarlet Cord," she nodded to the stocky man who just shrugged. There was no ill will there.

"I'm not sure she'll be a good candidate for us, what with her being so busy. No, there's too much on her mind. Ah, but there was this young man with fire in his eyes and who is oh so helpful. I think I shall get to know him better, and if there is purpose behind his actions instead of naivete, then I shall try and endear him towards us," she finished with a brilliant smile, hand over her heart.

"I see," the leader spoke, then continued after hum. "Very well, keep us updated on their movements, and good luck with your candidate. Next."

"Hi all," came an aristocratic, almost snooty, voice. "Crysthed remains quiet. The resurfacing forced by the calamity two years prior was done out of absolute necessity, and to further enforce council rules about future space travel. Beyond this, there seems to be no plans to aid nor obstruct any other faction. Amity is but a blip, and the Scarlet Cord and mutants are kept under a watchful, if lazy, gaze."

There was a slight pause then, as if the speaker was in thought, then he brought a hand to his chin and gazed upwards.

"Our goal remains the same - to be left alone. This may change, our part to play has always been fickle, and we are a varied lot. Mostly hermits that banded together out of necessity than any real desire. We look to the esoteric, as you all know, and the mutations and repercussions of the latest nuclear threat has become somewhat of a godsent, if you don't the morbidity of it. We sure don't. It is simply another thing to be pondered. Ah, but I am known to blather on so I apologize. I have no candidates as of yet as I hardly even talk to people most days, but I have my eye out as best I can."

There was a gleam in his eyes then, that wasn't there at the beginning, genuinely passionate about his stance in life. That was good. That was encouraged as per the rule. Faith is hope; hope is faith. Besides, with a hand over his heart, no one in the group doubted his sincerity, and that he did what he did just as he said.

With a simple nod to the wiry and lanky man, the Decurion bid the meeting continue.

"Next."

And so on it went, with another speaker reporting about the details in their faction or news about a hopeful recruit. Turnout for the night was near-full. Four of the five major factions were accounted for, as well as a smattering of people in lesser or nomadic tribes. But all words were held in equal regard, and everything was taken at face value. Duplicity had no purpose here and would have swiftly been dealt with, regardless. Still, these were all veterans that were present at the birth of the rule. At that time two years ago when yet another planet was led to ruin by greed or accident or what have you. They were all but people who looked for purpose and found it in faith and in hope.

Near the end of the meeting, some logistics had to be settled. The girl from earlier who had announced that all was in the clear, walked up to a pile of goods and supplies tucked away under a weighted blanket. It was difficult to plan these meetings as each faction and tribe operated differently. There always had to be a good excuse when one was absent when there are so many things to be done. And so they must bring back something to make it worthwhile.

To the Scarlet Cord, some weaponry was given. They were nothing fancy, but of decent quality and make. Enough to be shared after demanding a round of drinks from a successful kill-and-loot. At least, that's what the stocky man would say. He would bluster and make stories, laugh and drink and be merry, and genuinely fit in. This was because he chose the Cord. He believes in their sadism. That such things are needed to push the world forward. That it was fun.

Some medicinal supplies were allotted to Amity. The girl with the pleasant voice would take it to their medical tent and come up with her own story - how helping someone in need turned out to be pretty rewarding. Oh, of course she declined such payment! Charity was its own reward. But they insisted, of course, and she would tell them so. In the end, while they did not wish to actually join Amity, their own code of honor made them return the gesture in kind. She would embellish some parts, of course. Make it exciting, make it seem that their purpose was indeed the cure to the ails of this otherwise dark world.

The recluse from Crysthed was given a sample of flora, a new species that grew despite the harsh conditions. This time there would be no story. His whims simply took him to this place and that, and as such he stumbled upon such a fascinating specimen. He would tell the others as much, and they would likely believe him. Besides, the story wasn't important - but the thing was. There would be offers of barter, entreaties of collaboration and the like. Of course, he would the one most beneficial to him as well, and life would go on.

Once all the gifts had been passed around, and each had gone back home one by one, only two people were left at the now smoldering remains of their campfire. The Decurion kenlt on the ground next to the girl in a simple blouse and jeans. They were in prayer. Nothing specific. Nothing dogmatic. If anything, it was more a personal reflection of all that they had come to achieve in two years, and what more they could stand to gain in the coming ones. The people here weren't spies - that implied the knowledge will be put to use against their own factions. They were but observers sharing facts to other like-minded individuals, at least in the aspect of faith. They were all allowed their own methods. Charity. Sadism. Mystery. Travel. It didn't matter, the rule allowed this. They were simply a collection of people with faith that there is more yet to come. And so, to foster hope, there must be progress on all fronts, regardless of the method. Live must move on, and its people should follow.

With a sigh, the Decurion and his pupil stood, ready to make the trek back home. Their faith was strong. There was yet hope. Another night ends, and a new day would soon begin.