Oregon Trail Revitalized - RPLOG
From Flexible Survival
Participants
Date
6/10/2022
Log
(Erika) A short way down the western road leading away from Crater Lake, a small base camp seems to be set up. One medium-sized tent, four mutants, and MANY crates. Lots and lots of crates. The mutants assembled appear to be two huskies, one average and the other large. The other two mutants consist of a mutant so armored it's hard to tell what she is, and lastly a black and white furred rabbit. They're all gathered around the crates, waiting for people to arrive. The smaller husky is a busty lady, dressed almost entirely in black outlaw leathers, including the black cowgirl hat. She has long blond hair, straight and held in a pony tail. The armored mutant is encased entirely in a set of power armor, carrying several weapons large and small.
(Euoia) Euoia sighs. She didn't know what to expect and guesses things are still setting up. The anime babe saunters over to the group. "I uh... I heard there was supposed to be a thing tonight. I'm guessing things are still being set up. Y'all good or you need some extra help?" Euoia grabs her flask from it's shoulder holster and takes a swig. She's not very strong but could help out. She takes a look at the armored mutant. "Nice gear," she says to them, "Don't worry. i won't touch unless allowed." She gives it? a smile and a nod. "I take it you don't have a magic wand or staff in there?"
(Fenris) That shambling, shuffling gait. That fixed stare. That rictus grin set in an unmoving face. It is apparent that Fenris is... Wearing a fursuit? A comms scan shows that Fenris is here, but who can really be sure who is wearing the friendly, chunky tanuki mascot costume that is shuffling along the road in a little freestyle dance? The mascot spins a large sign painted with a donut, a hamburger, and a generic soft drink on it. The sign seems to be fixed to some sort of long polearm. He shuffles up to the gathering point and gives his sign one last flourish before leaning on it and giving a friendly wave to the assembled mutants.
(Chessly) A mercenary group? An exploration party? A cat-boy watches the camp from afar trying to parse what possibly could they have planned there, he didn't come prepared with any fancy weapons or gadgets on hand.All he had was a burning curiosity, and the oversized lab coat hanging on his body. Making his way to the small camp the the curious feline notices stack of crates. He keeps some distance towards the pile, waves at the mutants, and stares down the power armor. Chessly has taken an interest in what the mutant is wearing, and from afar tries to guess what possibly features the neat piece of equipment could possibly have.
(Forkbomb) It was an odd day. Forkbomb, the athletic ninja tanuki girl clad in tight and skimpy cyberpunk apparel, strode out towards the tent and let out a long exhalation. "We're here." There's a moment of hesitation, more due to the social anxiety of meeting back up with Moresson than anything else, before she tossed her brightly colored hair and made herself known. "I... Have arrived. I admit, I've never been here before." She looks out over the expanse, the horizon of Crater Lake. "Please don't take it the wrong way, but I haven't heard anything about what happened here other than what are probably ghost stories. Mind filling me in?"
(Symaro) What does fourteen years feel like to Symaro? A lifetime, two lifetimes as a matter of fact. This lad is only seven years old, and in his short time on this god-overloaded world! Since crawling out his egg, Symaro had been through several hells, two of which were quite literal in function and purpose. The gator had gone through more stages in life than your average human ten times his age, but in a setting this absurd and riddled with extraplanar influences, was that any surprise? Heavy footfalls announce his presence, metal clanking dimly against the hardened terrain, coat swishing in the wind and hat tilted down to keep those vertically slit irises concealed. Hands swinging lightly to either side of his hips, Symaro nears the meeting point, glance wandering left and right, nose scrunched up slightly from the malodorous influence of the surrounding area. His nose tilts upwards, footfalls ceasing just before the gathering, gaze surveying his surroundings, body awash with the familiar aura of the signal's absence. So what was this gathering about anyway? Some crackpot prophet looking to divulge mystical truths onto those willing to listen? An enterprising journalistic ploy to seed some dissent and cash in on the ensuing chaos? The packminds having branched out in an attempt to lore unsuspecting victims into their collective? Only one way to find out. "Funny place to host a party." He comments offhandedly, nearing the campsite with one hand holding the brim of his hat, the other tucked into his light brown duster's pocket. Tilting his headwear such it no longer obscures his vision, he is better able to recognize a few faces. "Fenris." One hand reaches out, a smile tugging at the gator's maw. "As I live and breathe. You have a nose for trouble like none other. Nice to see you again mate." His glance snaps around the others, a dip of his maw in greeting in greeting cast towards Euoia, Junes and Ambessa, suggesting familiarity but little shared history otherwise. As for the camp-goers. "Heeey Morri. You've changed your hair! It suits you." The gator smirks softly and crosses his arms, peering into the mask of her armor with vivid amusement. "So this is where you've been holed up all this time. I heard something about you digging your heels into arms dealing. No wonder my agents have been finding more bullet holes and burn marks around town. Hope you're keepin' as good as you're lookin'." Symaro presses his foot into the ground and digs his heel in for a few moments, the crinkling of pebbles and displacement of grime eerily audible in this area of uncanny stillness. T'was a mite unsettling, yet oddly soothing given the picturesque woodlands surrounding them. "I'd ask what's dragged you all the way out here of all places, but I have a gut feeling we're about to find out." He pruses his lips and whistles sharply upon noting the surroundings. "Smells like something big's being built here though. You planning to start your own town or something Morri?" His glance snaps back towards the armored woman. "Running for mayor or police chief?"
