RE: Infovore
03-16-2018, 05:16 AM
(This post was last modified: 03-16-2018, 05:18 AM by BreadProduct.)
“What? But I haven't—Okay, I'm a Scavenger. What do you-” After locking the gate, the woman turns around, and leaves, “-need?”
Mark pats John's back, “Don't worry, I'll explain the details later. Follow me and take the spatula with you.”
John stares at the spatula in his hand, he risked his life to get it. It must be important, with vigor he marches to catch up with Mark.
The left most tent, the smell of chili permeates from within. Mark and John enter. Mark waves at an elderly man, who stirs a large pot over an open flame. “Sensei, I'm back.”
The old man scowls with an Irish accent, “I told you not to call me that! I'm Conor O'Dwyer, Conor O'Dwyer!”
Mark turns to face John. “That's Sensei, the guy who taught me magic. Give him the spatula.”
John offers Conor the Spatula, “Eh, A new spatula? Thanks! The old one's rusty.”
John glares at Mark, his face filled with rage and betrayal. Mark as calm as ever, “Wait for it.”
Conor grabs John's hand. John looks at a small corked clay bottle in his palm. Conor returns to cooking chili, “Wait till dinner, best to have something strong to wash the taste out. Next time get me some Cider or Whiskey.”
“What is this?”
"A tonic, it's what allows us to see monsters. Babies can be spotted without—if you know to look for them, but the older ones you'll need to drink this. Drink it fast, and don't taste it. It'll last a month so be sure to look out for what he asks for while scavenging."
Mark returns to John carrying two bowls of Chili, with a hunk of bread floating on top. “Take a few bites first, it will make it go down easier.”
“So I've been thinking,” John says between spoonfuls of Chili. “How do you know they arrived in the 1700's?”
“Nazi's.”
“What?”
“They did weapons research about them, I read the report. They found evidence of the monster's exploits dating back to sometime in the 1700's.”
“You can read German?”
“Yeah?”
“Since when?”
“Since I took German in high school, you didn't know?”
John takes another mouthful of chili.
“Before you finish, you should take the tonic.”
John fidgets with the small bottle, a group of 7 people, stand nearby. He uncorks the bottle, everyone except John, plugs their nose, and stops breathing. The smell violates John, he heaves, he tries to re-cork the bottle, Mark steals the cork. John grimaces at the thought of swallowing this stuff, in one go he throws the contents into his mouth. The texture oozes down his throat, leaving behind a slime trail. The taste causes John to convulse, he screams. Once the silence ends, Mark force feeds John chili, while the crowd disperses, except one.
A short teenage boy, “Names Joey, I heard you're the new Scavenger?”
He offers a sheet of paper, John takes it. The paper consists of supply requests: First aid, Booze, Wood, Construction Tools, Soap, Clean Water, Toiletries, Fresh wolf's blood.
“Pick one, you'll be departing tomorrow.”
Mark pats John's back, “Don't worry, I'll explain the details later. Follow me and take the spatula with you.”
John stares at the spatula in his hand, he risked his life to get it. It must be important, with vigor he marches to catch up with Mark.
The left most tent, the smell of chili permeates from within. Mark and John enter. Mark waves at an elderly man, who stirs a large pot over an open flame. “Sensei, I'm back.”
The old man scowls with an Irish accent, “I told you not to call me that! I'm Conor O'Dwyer, Conor O'Dwyer!”
Mark turns to face John. “That's Sensei, the guy who taught me magic. Give him the spatula.”
John offers Conor the Spatula, “Eh, A new spatula? Thanks! The old one's rusty.”
John glares at Mark, his face filled with rage and betrayal. Mark as calm as ever, “Wait for it.”
Conor grabs John's hand. John looks at a small corked clay bottle in his palm. Conor returns to cooking chili, “Wait till dinner, best to have something strong to wash the taste out. Next time get me some Cider or Whiskey.”
“What is this?”
"A tonic, it's what allows us to see monsters. Babies can be spotted without—if you know to look for them, but the older ones you'll need to drink this. Drink it fast, and don't taste it. It'll last a month so be sure to look out for what he asks for while scavenging."
Mark returns to John carrying two bowls of Chili, with a hunk of bread floating on top. “Take a few bites first, it will make it go down easier.”
“So I've been thinking,” John says between spoonfuls of Chili. “How do you know they arrived in the 1700's?”
“Nazi's.”
“What?”
“They did weapons research about them, I read the report. They found evidence of the monster's exploits dating back to sometime in the 1700's.”
“You can read German?”
“Yeah?”
“Since when?”
“Since I took German in high school, you didn't know?”
John takes another mouthful of chili.
“Before you finish, you should take the tonic.”
John fidgets with the small bottle, a group of 7 people, stand nearby. He uncorks the bottle, everyone except John, plugs their nose, and stops breathing. The smell violates John, he heaves, he tries to re-cork the bottle, Mark steals the cork. John grimaces at the thought of swallowing this stuff, in one go he throws the contents into his mouth. The texture oozes down his throat, leaving behind a slime trail. The taste causes John to convulse, he screams. Once the silence ends, Mark force feeds John chili, while the crowd disperses, except one.
A short teenage boy, “Names Joey, I heard you're the new Scavenger?”
He offers a sheet of paper, John takes it. The paper consists of supply requests: First aid, Booze, Wood, Construction Tools, Soap, Clean Water, Toiletries, Fresh wolf's blood.
“Pick one, you'll be departing tomorrow.”