Goodbye Earth {RP THREAD}

'The struggle for survival is a war without end.......and war......war never changes...'

The wasteland was a bleak and desolate place, showing no mercy to those who walked its lonesome roads. Often the sky was dotted with still black clouds, raining bits of ash onto the sun baked sands below. The ground was tomb for the scattered bones of nameless wanderers, leaving the rubble of old civilizations, providing no history. It was a place of death, and misery - and the last impression Earth would ever make...

In the final days of Earth, the date is not recorded, nor the time, except for the scientists of Finale, as they finish the construction of the shuttle believed to save the Earth's races, as they leave the rest of the impure planet to die, shattering itself, and being forgotten undoubtedly. In these final days, there is much to be done; The gathering of supplies, the fight against impure mutants, and even doing what little good it takes for those who will never make the trip, to live a little better in their final days – whether they know it or not.

On this particular day, eighteen sunsets before the shuttle is scheduled to leave, a group of wanderers would start their paths into becoming heroes. The weather was clear as the sun perched itself in the mid of the gray sky, its light turning the cracked earth a dusty copper. This particular location was not overly note-able, just a simple stretch of black that could have once been a highway, surrounded by dead trees, and littered by empty cans and animal skulls as the road trailed off into the sands, having only a decayed gas-station on its left side.

The gas-station was rusted heavily,bearing only small pockmarks of peeling yellow paint, as two fallen pumps and a small metal shelf remained outside. The inside was dark, and echoed with the skittering of mutated bugs, and small clanks and the crunching of glass could be heard from outside.

******​

'...Into each life, some rain must fall, but too much is falling in mine... Into each heart some tears must fall, but someday the sun will shine... Some folks can lose the blues in their hearts, but when I think of you, another shower starts... Into each life some rain must fall, but too much is falling in mine...'

The nostalgic tune was accompanied by a small amount of static, as it carried itself across the immediate area, its soft melody no doubt arousing curiosity or suspicion, as music was almost unheard of in the wasteland. It lasted only a minute and a half before it was cut out. The small radio on Vido's hip was the source of the music, and only ceased when he placed a paw on the dial, and switched it off.

Vido stood, leaned back on the side of the gas-station, pistol in its holster as he took a long drag of his cigarette – another rare commodity. His sandy fur blew in the slight breeze as he looked absently down at his helmet, that rested at his feet. He took another long drag before dropping the cigarette on the ground not bothering to stomp it out, as he leaned down, picking up his helmet, and sliding in over his head.

Behind the red-tinted visor, his brown eyes scanned the horizon, looking for any sort of trouble, or game to hunt – he hadn't eaten in a few days. Aside from the empty feeling in his stomach, Vido was fairly well off, aside from the fact that he and everyone else was irradiated beyond comprehension. However there was a reason he walked the lonesome roads of Earth in this dark hour. He had heard rumors of a city, known as Finale, where the waters ran clean, and people lived normal lives, as well as some line about being saved from the atomic fires of earth. That was enough for him. He was sick of drinking gritty water and eating over-sized bugs – He would find a way into Finale, and spend his remaining caps on as much booze and tits as he could, before enjoying whatever other services the fabled city had to offer.

 

Vido instinctively drew his revolver as he heard the stranger approach. The female carried a long staff-like weapon and looked to be feline. Vido was surprised at how trusting she was,  especially in the wasteland. She spoke with a southern accent, which Vido found strange, but lowered his pistol enough to give some semblance of security to the girl, as she asked him his business, and for him to show his face. red flags had already gone up for Vido.

”No.” He said bluntly in answer to the girl's question, his voice had a slight amount of static to it as he spoke through the speaker inside his helmet. He noticed her waving him over, and came to the immediate conclusion that she was stupid – she wouldn't last a day like that. He listened a little more and heard her say the obvious words. It seemed everyone who was headed to the city wanted a companion – perhaps all except Vido. ”Ma'am...” he started, ”I personally find your trusting nature appalling, and yes, I'm headed to Finale – aren't we all?”

With that, Vido turned away from the girl, finished with the pointless conversation, as he re-leaned himself against the wall and stared blankly out to the horizon again, ears flicking to the sound of bugs inside the gas-station. After a few moments of thought, Vido gave a sigh laced with static. He lowered his right hand into a pocket, rummaging around until he withdrew a small tin of cigarettes, and a small matchbox. He popped off the tin's lid and let it fall to the ground as he slid a cigarette halfway out of the container, and pointed it to the girl in offering. ”What's your name?”

 

Vido slid his pistol to his hip, holding it at his side as he stood quietly, listening to the woman who was known as Betty. The hyena gave an audible sigh as he purposefully neglected to tell her his name, despite her asking him directly. Instead he focused his attention on the sound of thudding feet behind him, immediately tilting his pistol's barrel upwards from his hip, and aiming it roughly for the man's chest as he spoke.

For the most part, the pair that had surrounded Vido seemed harmless, save for not having the decency to give him some idea that they were there before jumping out at him, barely saving them from Vido's trigger finger. The man called himself Phelix, but seemed to want the people he spied on to call him 'Dex,' Vido remained quiet. After a few more moments of talking, as well as hearing Betty's distaste for Vido's lack of social adeptness, Vido had decided he had enough of the current situation and turned away from the two, not speaking a single word.

The sandy-furred hyena walked along the black tarmac with slow and purposeful strides, leaving his revolver in his left hand as he strode forward, past the gas station and continued west. In this direction there were two distinct features. One, to the Northwest, was a small funnel of blackish-green smoke, pluming up to the horizon, strangely attracting no wildlife, coming from beyond a large hill. The second, to the Southwest, was another small, but decimated road, leading into a small canyon path, and into the unknown.

For a moment, Vido stopped, weighing his options as he scanned the two locations, taking the slightest glance at the two at the gas station, only a few meters behind him, before speaking. ”I don't care if you follow me – but we aren't partners.” he said in another static tone as he pulled the small, rectangular device off his hip and turned a switch. ”Hope you like music – I won't go anywhere without a travel tune.” he said as an old-timey country tune played, laced with static from the small device.

 

”Don't call me that.” Vido stated in annoyance when he heard 'Mr. Trust'. He looked down to the tin of cigarettes he still held in his paw, the lid back where he had been leaning, and counted the small, wrinkled rolls of tobacco out on his fingers. Not a moment later he pocketed the 3 remaining smokes he had and tossed the tin aside, making a small clang as they hit the concrete.

As the hyena took a few more steps, Dex commented on the two routes that lay ahead of them, and the dangers each could pose. Vido turned slowly around, his head tilted slightly in confusion as he stared at Dex. ”I'm not scared of poisonous smoke pal.” he said pointing to the dented tin that once contained his cigarettes. Then, much like before, the woman known as Betty wanted his name, or more specifically a name. Vido sighed.

Taking his hands from his side, he slid them upwards, reaching for his helmet. He ran his paws to the back of his neck, where the sound of a light metallic pop could be heard, then not long after, the hyena's large paws worked on loosening the helmet. With a light pull, and small neck movements, the helmet was off, with it a small amount of dust that drifted off the top and neck-cover. Vido dropped his left arm limply, letting the weight of the helmet cause it to sway slightly as his hardened brown eyes stared with slight contempt at the feline. On his face were many scars and traces of burns, and his ears were riddled with holes.

Though his face was no longer being requested, Vido knew that you could tell a lot from someone by their face, and what the look in their eyes could tell you about their past. He looked long, only blinking twice before taking a small breath. ”Satisfied? Good.” With that, he turned away , letting the bottom of his coat follow after. He raised his helmet up and slid it back over his head and began another slow walk towards the canyon, and peered in. ”Goes pretty far – once we head in, it may not be wise to backtrack – still interested?” Vido took a halfway glance at the green smoke, knowing that it was probably trouble, but remained curious. ”The smoke looks like trouble – but it also reeks of prospecting.”