
Aurin Frasier
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carry me home
to your house of broken bones
___________
Aurin Frasier grimaced as he approached the lump in the sand. Small and just barely smoldering, he would have missed it entirely had he not been on the lookout. Faint details and traces of any expression were long burnt away, but the shape was unmistakable. The man sunk to his knees, one hand jabbing the metal scrap he carried into the dust below, and the other hand scooping up a fist-full of the stuff. Bowing his head, Aurin scattered the dry earth over the blackened body before him. He spoke a few words. Ancient words in strange tongue, they held meaning for very few people anymore. He sat there for a moment. Taking in the air, the surroundings, the grey sun above, and the fallen soldier before him. Aurin blinked as he studied the body. There really was no way of telling if the man had been a soldier, or an enemy, or even a man at all. But in this world, all men and all women who fought for survival were soldiers.
Gripping the scrap metal, Aurin yanked the piece from the ground. Then he stood. His destination loomed in the distance before him. Try as he might, the young man couldn’t peel his eyes from it. The razed outpost-town of Bellwether was an amazing sight: painting the sky above it black with smoke, the remaining buildings stood like petrified shadows against the skyline. From where he stood, maybe a half-mile away or so, Aurin could still hear the crackling of embers. A pit was growing in the young man’s stomach. As he neared the ruins, a feeling of dread for what he might find came over him, a feeling that he tried very hard to ignore. But he was here on a mission. Survivors. That was his purpose here, and he’d be damned if he didn’t leave with one saved life.

Lani Emmerton
_______________________
holding onto the simple things
before they disappear
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"One Rebel Tempest! On the rocks and dryer than my ex's humor!" The latter of the remarks lead to light chuckles throughout the bar and tavern. A man on the west-end of the counter rose a hand. He was a regular- tall and rather intelligent-looking, known only by Lani for his rather irregular choices of drink. "What's it today, hun?" the young woman queried as she passed her customer a reddish-gold tinted drink. Her copper-colored hair fell in choppy locks as she tipped her head in question. With each movement she made, the rings on her beaded shawl chimed together. She had a very exotic beauty to her. Wild and bright-eyed, but motherly and devoted at heart. She cared for her customers, and though she caught their eyes trained on her on more than one occasion, she knew they cared for her in the same respect. "Cure to Pacorus? Artificial intelligence? Don't leave me hanging" she teased. The man was always working on some strange new invention. Whether he'd had a drink in him or not, and whether Lani wanted to hear about his antics or not, she was always sure to receive a mouthful.
[center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify;][font=trebuchet ms]Hey there! If you haven't figured it out already, this a post-apocalyptic roleplay set in a pretty war-torn world. No form is required to join. I merely ask for a good-sized paragraph or so at minimum per post (well-written of course), and activity. While it is a jump-in, there are a few key notes about the world that I think would be very helpful to know. (promise it won't take too long!)
The world itself is in shambles, with only around 30% of it still inhabitable, while the remaining 70% scarred by open wasteland. A brutal war left it this way, and even after 60 years of relative peace, the planet has recovered very little. Bandits infest the lands, brutal gangs that make their living ravaging the live of the weak, and the risks of radiation poisoning is an unfortunate reality. However, all isn't bleak and dismal in this little earth. Small havens called "Townposts" can be found scattered across the country. These communities are the modern-day cities, and range in both size and population. Each Townpost has a sort of scout/police regiment comprised of volunteers that protect and scavenge for the masses. Technology, though nothing compared to the pre-war tech, is fairly advanced. Robots and super-medicines are very much things that exist, but they all have their limitations. Guns, swords, crossbows, and any other weapon under the sun are key to survival in the wastelands- thought guns and guts alone can't guarantee everything.
My character, Aurin, is on his way to scout the ruins of the Townpost of Bellwether for survivors. Lani, my other character, is in a Townpost called Southrun a couple miles south. It's an open world, so you can really jump in wherever you'd like. You can be a survivor of the ruins, a scout for a Townpost, a resident of Southrun, or even an enemy raider. The choice is yours! I plan on having everyone meet up at Southrun relatively soon, and potentially band together from there.
If you have any questions don't be afraid to shoot me a pm or just ask here. I don't bite!


