Author Topic: The Scrapyard maybe if i fall asleep i won't breathe right [badlands patrol]  (Read 251 times)

Offline 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐭

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maybe if i fall asleep i won't breathe right [badlands patrol]
« on: January 13, 2019, 11:41:21 PM »
The resources in the Badlands could only get them so far, and in order to reach all of Catalyst's goals, they were going to need to branch out, to raid the surrounding areas until there was nothing for their enemies to take. Everything had to be under their control. They didn't really feel like traveling all that far that day, nor were they particularly in the mood to throw everyone into the deep end. That'd come later, once they had a better idea of how much they could do.

"If it looks useful, grab it. If there's anyone lurking, bring them to me." They said, moving through the aisles of rusted clutter, sharp gaze sweeping over thing in search of anything that might still have a purpose to serve. "I think there's some feral dogs around here, so be careful." They wouldn't have shots for rabies if anyone got bit... Or tetanus, considering all the sharp, rusted metal everywhere.

//this takes place in the scrapyard and if anyone wants their non-Badlander to be here that's fine but they won't be treated kindly

Spoiler: IF YOU DONT KNOW NOW YOU KNOW && INFO && 01/03/19 • show
GENERAL   welcome to the end of eras, ice has melted back to life
⇥ Given name is Scott Mathew Darrow ⇥ Goes only by Catalyst or Cat
⇥ Assigned male at birth ⇥ Agender ⇥ They/Them pronouns only
Twenty-one ⇥ Born 11/27/17 ⇥ Sagittarius ⇥ Real time aging
Top Dog (leader) of the Badlands ⇥ Ex prisoner of the Badlands
⇥ Ex cultist (Mourningstar) ⇥ Ex member of the Young Rogues

RECENT EVENTS   done my time and served my sentence
⇥ 01/02/39 ⇥ Helped fight off Sheogorath's captors
⇥ 12/31/38 ⇥ Discovered Sheogorath's journal
⇥ 12/30/38 ⇥ Held their first meeting, which can't be summarized briefly
⇥ 12/29/38 ⇥ Confronted Jeremy, their old captor
⇥ 12/27/38 ⇥ Took over as leader of the Badlands

APPEARANCE   dress me up and watch me die
⇥ Catalyst is 6'2" tall; they possess a lean and muscular body, one that has a variety of old scars adorning it. They have two piercings, one in their tongue and the other in the cartilage of their left ear. They typically dress in dark colors (favoring jackets with some sort of writing on the back), and their hair is black. They're not all dark, however, as they have pale blue eyes that peer out from beneath medium-sized eyebrows.

PERSONALITY   if it feels good, tastes good, it must be mine
⇥ Catalyst is ambitious, with the cunning and ruthlessness to reach their goals by any means necessary. They can be brutal when they feel it is needed, however when it's not they won't bother. They tend to be rather aloof and apathetic to most things and people, with some very rare exceptions. Provided those around them don't cross a few specific lines, they're content to leave them be, though they've been known to take an interest in some people, which seldom has a positive end for whoever their interest is in. They can be manipulative, and will often encourage people to make bad decisions. Those that stick by them will be rewarded, but those that do not will be cast out, as they've been outcast for their entire life and have learned to appreciate loyalty wherever they can find it. Even during the most stressful of situations, they usually keep a firm grip on their temper and keep their calm, though when they do snap and lose their temper, it is uncontrollable. They're remarkably observant, often able to deign much from subtle clues in what people say, how they say it and how they act.

RELATIONS   dynasty decapitated, you just might see a ghost tonight
⇥ Molly Darrow x Austin Darrow ⇥ No siblings
Pansexual/PanromanticSingle ⇥ No crushes or maybe crushes
⇥ Not looking but not not looking ⇥ Rarely forms romantic attachment
⇥ Holds most people at arms length and doesn't get close

INTERACTION   i'm taking back the c r o w n
Hard physicallyHard mentally ⇥ Doesn't let their guard down
⇥ Is most comfortable with close ranged-weapons ⇥ Dislikes guns
Brass knuckles ⇥ A variety of knives ⇥ Blunt objects like bats
⇥ Will kill/capture/maim in certain circumstances
⇥ Will leave things be in others ⇥ Will start & finish fights
⇥ No kill/capture/maim without permission
⇥ Peaceful powerplay allowed but they may react negatively
⇥ Dislikes almost any sort of touch unless they initiate or agree to it
I've been defeated I begged for what I needed
I suffered now I'm ready for war


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Re: maybe if i fall asleep i won't breathe right [badlands patrol]
« Reply #1 on: January 15, 2019, 07:24:55 PM »

He supposed that it made sense for the Badlands to seek out an abandoned yard to scavenge for resources. After all, without electricty, there was no source of food or other essentials. Gabriel's gaze swept across the piles of junk, wondering what he could possibly find in here. Feral dogs, too? That sounded... lovely.

The teenager pursed his lips and slowly advanced forward into the depths of the scrapyard. His hands remained at his sides, fingertips brushing up against the outline of a blade in his front pocket.
————————————————————————— ❪ ✦ ° ┊ BIOGRAPHY

Offline 𝘊𝘙𝘌𝘌𝘋

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Re: maybe if i fall asleep i won't breathe right [badlands patrol]
« Reply #2 on: January 16, 2019, 06:49:13 AM »
creed listened to cat as she began walking deeper into the scrapyard. she was curious to find out if there were even anything worth value here anymore. there was no doubt that people had scavenged here before - she would be surprised to hear about any place being left untouched. although, there was the possibility of people overlooking things that wouldn't catch the eye at first glimpse.

her hand held onto the wooden bat, swinging it casually by her side while she took calculated steps. feral dogs? sure, creed liked dogs. she wasn't so sure she'd like them attacking her though, so she kept her guard up.
if you wanna start a fight you better throw the first punch, make it a good one — info

Offline MICHAEL.

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Re: maybe if i fall asleep i won't breathe right [badlands patrol]
« Reply #3 on: January 16, 2019, 03:08:00 PM »
"speech" 'thought' text
tw: mentions alcohol, blood, profanity, themes of violence

Here he was about two yards away from Cat, skirting around Creed, still tentative as to whether she was actually alive, and who she said she was. Though he was not superstitious by nature, a nagging sensation at the back of his mind told Mike to be wary of her, though not in the sense of mere survival. Perhaps he was overreacting, and overthinking, he tended to do that at times, his eyes scanned the dump of land, it was... rather disgusting looking.

Though there were probably a few good finds if someone looked carefully, and with a patrol this size most people wouldn't mess with them, and if any feral dogs tried to attack them a swift shot of a fire arm sounded like enough to keep them at bay. He sighed softly, kicking at a pile of junk with his booted foot, dislodging debris and revealing nothing of interest. Most of this crap was unusable, though he'd found parts to modify weapons and also put together shit here before.

The question was, did he really want to carry anything back to the Badlands with him? Did he really need anything? He shrugged to himself, and scratched the side of his nose with this thumb. Most of the books that were dumped here were almost unreadable, molded, mildewed, disgusting, and their content wasn't usually that great either. Pulling a thick woolen mitten from his pocket, he slipped it on, and began sorting through the stuff at his feet, he would rather not touch anything disgusting if he could at all avoid it.

To his surprise there seemed to be a few interesting items around him, the shell of a disassembled landmine, a set of dog tags, some boots that were in surprisingly decent condition (for their age). Still, nothing he wanted, or needed... or anything that the Badlands was in need of either. Straightening up he moved on, dislodging smaller items and kicking around the piles to see if anything caught his eye.

After one such kick, he uncovered the nest of a rat family, and the animals scurried out in disarray. "Fuck." He was startled though he didn't jump, just exclaimed in surprise, though made no move to dispatch the scrawny creatures. He bent down and began to sort through what was left of the nest, there were no babies there, which meant it was either a new nest, or the babies had grown up enough to run with the older rats.

A comb (or what used to be a comb), a pair of earrings... still nothing of use. He continued poking around til his fingers touched something smooth (well he assumed it was smooth, the glove did not catch on it). He picked it up, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. It was a new (ish) bullet, never been fired, seemed completely intact, though probably a tad bit unstable. If he had to guess it was for a .44 caliber pistol, he slipped the item into a pouch at his side, and looked up, "Found a bit of ammo here." Might as well share the find, it wasn't like he had a .44 to use the bullet with.
Michael Ford is a 45 year old, man, he's stubbornly loyal to whatever cause he chooses, protective of his family and friends, he's a grunt in the Badlands. Michael has issues controlling his anger in most situations. He is a difficult opponent and well trained, feel free to power play nonviolent interactions though.