'So Shiny, So Chrome' takes place 13 years after The Fall, a combination of the Oil Wars that came to a climax with a nuclear event. Our setting is the Wasteland, once the Australian outback. Wildlife mutated by radiation prowls the wasteland; weather is harsh and highly unpredictable; roving gangs of survivors fight for what remains of precious resources.
What a day, what a lovely day.
----- Season: Winter Weather: Days 8°C/Nights -10°C
Winter has descended once again on the Wasteland as merciless as ever. Days are cold, and with little cover the high winds are all the more biting; even without snow, hypothermia and frostbite are a constant threat. The only relief is that many of the Wasteland's creatures are in hibernation.
Post by Isla "Sparrow" Abercrombie on Jan 18, 2016 13:54:43 GMT -5
Turning her gaze to the horizon, she watched the dust fly, pensively. She stood, unusually calm on what used to be an old highway. She hadn't been on said highway before The Fall, but the idea such a road still existed comforted her. Though the tarmac was barely discernible under the bright red sand. A harsh wind pushed past, plastering her hair to her face like glue. She sneered against it, pulling her dirty flaxen hair into a messy ponytail. The hair tie was stretched beyond it's years, a miracle it hadn't snapped yet.
The lack of thick hair around her neck was a blessing. Though the air was sticky and heavy with the overbearing desert heat. She had dressed as loosely as possible. A camisole that was once white, now forever stained a deep copper brown and showing signs of wear. Khaki shorts with a stiff belt coiled around her waist, cuffed a few times to help keep cool. Ragged, oil and mud stained boots finished the ensemble, having been with her for years. Steel toed and well worn, something her father had bought her a year or two before he passed.
Tilting her head back, hands pressed on wide hips, she let out a loud curse at the harsh climate. Not that she wasn't used to the Australian heat, but she had been walking for hours, towing a rucksack of supplies she had pilfered on her trek. She tried in vain to wipe sweat from her brow, successfully smearing more copper brown dirt along her forehead. Her mother had managed to secure a meet up point as this area was less than safe. She had been lucky to avoid encounters so far, but wouldn't count her blessings just yet. She would keep her head low, feet light on the ground, ever ready.
Lovely weather today, yeah?" she scoffed, scornfully.
Post by Augustus Rowler on Jan 18, 2016 15:58:24 GMT -5
Slacking off. He was decent at it when he needed to be. Once he got back to the Homestead it was all scraping and bowing and work. He had parked a little off the road, planting himself among a few downed vehicles. Good cover. For now he kicked back in the cab of his truck with the windows down and a thin ragged sheet draped across the windshield. His filthy mechanics coveralls hung around his waist and his worn boots were kicked out the window. The position may seem awkward, but he'd managed to feel alright with it.
The pickings were slim today, and he had said fuck it all and run off on his own. It was probably taboo, but he was accustomed to it. He hadn't paid much mind to all the rules laid out for him, especially whatever he considered pointless. Taking a deep breath, he sighed wriggling into further comfort as he closed his eyes... but much to his chagrin there was some noise. Some one screaming curses out on the road.
Wiping at his brow and rubbing his eyes, he sat up quickly pulling his legs back into the cab. It was always something, and his siesta was ruined. He peeked out through the dirty curtain, but couldn't see a damn thing. Looks like he'd have to go out there. Rummaging about the floor board of the passenger seat, he hefted a crowbar out into the open. Auggie had learned early on to always bring some sort of weapon, especially when he went busting out in any state of irritation.
Fighting his way out, he slammed the door and stormed towards the road, the dinged up bar slung across his shoulder. Holding his hand across his brow he squinted, the sun messing with his vision. There was someone standing about the middle of the old road way. Ah, what the fuck is this? Augustus said to himself as he hastened his pace moving forward. As he closed in he nodded at the blonde. Hey! What the fuck are you screaming for? He eyed her suspiciously. She had stuff with her, but didn't look armed. Didn't look threatening at all and he smirked. What is it? Hurt? Lost little girl? Making a damn racket out here... His sentence trailed off. Typical American asshole.
Post by Isla "Sparrow" Abercrombie on Jan 18, 2016 16:15:39 GMT -5
She was happy at least to find a few parts so they could repair what vehicles they had. It wasn't much, scrap metal at best. But shy thing would do at this point. The downed vehicles were covered in sand and rust. Many inhabited by creatures she would rather not tangle with. She grabbed what she could fit in her rucksack before moving onto the next. The blonde paid no mind to anyone that was nearby. As far as she was concerned, they didn't exist to her.
Tucking strands behind her ears, she picked through an old pick up that looked to have some loose plugs and valves that could come in handy. It looked a little less for wear, so it'd do quite nicely. She had just wretched the hood open when a gruff voice barked from behind her. She flinched, minutely and grit her teeth in annoyance. Not just as being interrupted, but at the name calling. Sparrow turned to face the man, letting her shoulders drop, but not relaxing quite yet.
The man sounded foreign to her. Clearly not native Australian. He wore coveralls so he might be a mechanic. Though he didn't seem like a war boy from the description she had heard in passing. She was down wind of the Citadel, Bullet Town and Gas Town. Though that didn't mean they wouldn't travel here. She eyed him just as suspiciously as she did him. Tightening her grip on the rucksack, she carefully shifted her footing. "None if your damn business that's what." she called, dismissively.
She figured she wouldn't be alone for long. As much as it felt like it, no one was alone out here. Not with Buzzards and the like prowling for entertainment and supplies. "Oh yes, just a sweet little damsel. I lost my group and it appears I hurt my leg. Could you be do kind as to give me a lift back home?" she cajoled, raising her voice to a higher pitch than normal. She even faked a limp for effect before spitting at the ground just shy a yard or two of his feet. "Who the fuck asked for your help, eh Mate? I'm perfectly fine here. Thanks for your concern." she added, not the least bit sincere.
Keeping tension in her muscles, she continued rifling through the pick up she had found before he came along. She wasn't about to let some foreign asshole ruin her wonderful day.
Post by Augustus Rowler on Jan 18, 2016 17:05:54 GMT -5
When the woman turned to him with a quick "None of your damn business" he raised a brow and jerked his head back. Moving his scrutinizing gaze from her for just a moment, he observed the truck she was picking at. Fuck, he thought. If he wouldn't have been screwing off that could've been his. The thought crossed his mind of just scaring her off and taking what he wanted, but was stopped short when she unleashed a load of sass.
His eyes followed the lob of spit that flew from her mouth. He was shocked at how quickly things had turned considering he wasn't always capable of recognizing his own attitude. Oh! Well if you don't have a fuckin' problem what the fuck you out here screaming for the whole fuckin' Waste to hear?! Auggie shouted, even though she hadn't raised her voice once. She just pushed his buttons immediately. He swung his free hand out to broaden the view of the whole wasteland surrounding them. She had destroyed the little bit of reprieve he had had. Living with the Anzacs had drained him lately of any and all compassion or normalcy. They forced him to participate in team work, he always had someone riding his ass. Today he could have gotten by taking a good nap. Alone. Maybe grabbed a few parts and wandered back to the caves in time for something to eat.
It was on, he wasn't going anywhere now. Auggie swung his crowbar down, the curved end gripped tight in his dirty hand as the tip banged against the remaining concrete. Leaning against it he spit back at her. Not that it's any of my business, but what's a little girl like you doing out here dicking up all the good scrap? He said it with a laugh, picking at her for digging under the hood of something he figured she knew nothing about. Why don't you get on out of here, go on home honey. Let the big boys play. Auggie narrowed his eyes at her as he spoke slowly, a mock sweetness to his voice. He jiggled the crowbar beneath him as though he were ready to use it against her... he might throw words at her, but he most likely wouldn't hit her. That would take a lot from her to get him that riled up.
Post by Isla "Sparrow" Abercrombie on Jan 19, 2016 10:50:46 GMT -5
Sparrow had just wanted to get a few more supplies before meeting up with her mother to go back to her group. She found herself rolling her eyes as she pulled a valve out as carefully and quickly as she could. The fuel line had been pulled and drained so she had no worries of setting something on fire. She was picking parts that would be useful and possibly fit their vehicles. Anything that wasn't damaged or rusted. She was trying to concentrate, but the abominable troll of the wastelands wasn't letting her.
She whipped back around with a snarl. "I'll have you know, I wasn't screaming for the Wastes to hear. I was cursing this god forsaken heat and you just happened to be in the vicinity." she snapped, finally pulling the valve free and placing it in her rucksack. The pick up was prime scavenging material. Only problem was it didn't run and the gasoline had been poached already. As with most of the vehicles here it seemed. Turning from her search at the sound of metal hitting the concrete, she found that the man was now brandishing a crowbar.
The blonde eyed the crowbar for a moment, not putting it passed the man to try and use it as a weapon. She scowled as he ranted on at her and accusing her of messing with the cars. She turned her nose up at him and cocked her hip to the left. "Oh please, I'm sure I know more about these vehicles after only looking over them for ten minutes than some dust covered grease monkey wannabe like you. So why don't you sit your ass down like a good little boy and let me concentrate on my work." she replied, grimacing at the thought of him thinking she didn't know what she was doing. She practically grew up in a car shop.
"Well since you asked so nicely. I seem to be running low on a few certain parts and in case you forgot, the world went to shit in a hand basket and I can't just walk my happy ass down the road with a grocery list and buy what I need. This is also the wastelands and seeing as how these are the only vehicles for miles that aren't crawling with those damn buzzards and war boys, I have to take what I can get." she answered with a sickeningly sweet tone, slowly and carefully pronouncing each word so he could understand.
She then climbed up on the wheelhouse and peered inside the cab for any scrap parts left behind. "Now I'm running on a bit of a time schedule here, so why don't you drag your knuckles over there and grunt at lizards and let me finish my job." she remarked, making a shooing motion with her hand. She let a small smirk grace her features and glanced over at the crowbar again. "If you're finished swinging that around, why not hand it here so I can get this door loose." she called, teasingly. She refused to let on that she was threatened and that all she had on her person was a small hunting knife that she kept tucked in her boot. She had learned well to keep appearance neutral as anyone could easily manipulate you in this world. She was not about to let some Neanderthal catch her off guard.
Post by Augustus Rowler on Jan 19, 2016 17:42:21 GMT -5
Augustus bobbled his head and guffawed as she tossed about words while still picking through the truck. He tried his damnedest to keep his irritation from his face. But he kept still as she turned to him once more, trying to make her case that she actually knew something. Raising his free hand he tapped his four fingers against his thumb Aye, quit your sqwuakin' little bird! He shook his head, still laughing before breaking his gaze and kicking about at the loose chunks of asphalt beneath his feet. From there he raised his head again and tapped his chest Darling, I'm no little boy. He spoke slowly again, using his best condescending tone. Somehow he had to get it through her thick skull to just run along, stand down.
As she complained, seemingly, about having to physically pick and transport parts he couldn't help but laugh more, practically tearing. Welcome to the new world. Put up or shut up, buttercup! He shouted between his laughter. Of course, he couldn't help but steal a glance at her ass as she clamored about the vehicle. She may be a nuisance, but at least she was nice to look at... something other than a bratty little girl and a bunch of banged up old dudes. The Anzacs almost felt like a prison in that sense, just a little less intense with far less unwanted male nudity.
Following her bit of pushy banter, she started whipping out the real insults. His brow knit as he glared at her while puffing his chest. The grip he had on the crow bar only tightened as she summoned the nerve to ask him for it. Teasing or not, he saw no logic in insulting a man and ten begging for his tools. Well! You've got some gall, don't you?! Angrily he began to close the gap between the two. It wasn't taking as much as he thought for her to send him over the edge. If she wanted to call him a knuckle-dragger, he'd show her. Augustus lifted the crowbar steadily and swooped it hard down at the ground kicking up rubble to send it flying towards her. Who the fuck you think you are? Gunna stand here and name call then have it in ya to ask to borrow shit? He lifted the bar again holding it up so it was in plain view. This- He waved the pry around This is mine. Augustus snarled at her as he returned the weaponized tool to it's rest position. Why the fuck would I give it up to help you?