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The Game Guy

[D6 Post Apoco] In Character Posts

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One the calm evening of July 1st, 2011 the highways were filled with people on their way home. Monday was the 4th of July and everyone was in a hurry to get home to start the extended 4th of July weekend.

The police were out in full force, watching for people who had started drinking early.

People at home and in their cars heard the following new break into whatever was playing at the time:

"There have been reports of a dangerous chemical being released throughout Philadelphia. A terrorist cell has claimed credit for the attack and have vowed that more attacks will follow. We have not confirmed any chemical release but recommend that until the police and other government agencies have investigated"

 

After a half an hour later:

 

"Government officials have confirmed a chemical release. We recommend that you stay indoors, specificially basements or other inclosed areas until we have further information. Canned goods and other packaged goods should be kept in case this emergency lasts for more then a couple of days"

 

After two weeks, you the survivors emerge to find out what is left of the world that you once knew.

 

(Feel free to post your intro post)

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PENNSYLVANIA STATE POLICE TROOP K- PHILADELPHIA

2201 BELMONT AVENUE PHILADELPHIA, PA 19131

 

July 15th, 2011 - 5:13 A.M.

 

Trooper John Siemaszko opened his eyes, feeling the same irritating dizziness he'd been experiencing upon waking for the last three days. Perhaps it was the chemicals that had been released seeping through the plastic coverings over the windows and doors. Perhaps it was the stink of nearly three hundred men and women in close quarters, in the middle of July with no air conditioning and with little access to trustworthy water sufficient to clean oneself over a two week span. That was for drinking, and no-one knew how long it would have to last.

 

Perhaps it was just fear and exhaustion.

 

Siemaszko sat up on the cot deployed in the basement corridor of the Pennsylvania State Police Troop K building on the outskirts of Philadelphia. He looked up and down the corridor at the others, some sleeping, some reading, some simply staring at the ceiling, waiting.

 

Lieutenant Tony Sivo's voice over the intercom interrupted the morning hush.

 

"Assemble in the briefing room in fifteen minutes."

 

Siemaszko grabbed three bottles of water, his soap, and a disposable razor and headed for the restroom. Maybe he'd only make the smallest dent in the funk of isolation, the pungent aroma of "shelter in place," but if he was going back to work, a dent would have to do.

 

***

 

Lieutenant Sivo stood patiently at the lectern, watching the men and women file in. He somehow made the shabby growth of beard he was sporting look commanding.

 

"Alright, everyone. Take a seat or take a knee. We've been in contact with Harrisburg, and the time has come to go out and do our jobs."

 

Sivo waited for the brief outburst to die down.

 

"We don't have a lot of information. The communication came in via landline, and was fairly abrupt and to the point. We're unable to establish whether the National Guard is deployed, or what the situation is outside, exactly, but whatever it is, it'll just get worse without us out there, keeping the peace. We're passing out the Hazmat suits and the AR-15s we've got on hand. Once you've got your gear, mount up and get out there. We'll feel our way out as far as reconnoitering the area. You'll all know more as soon as we all do. Good luck."

 

Anticipating a barrage of questions that had no answers, Sivo quickly exited.

 

***

 

Siemaszko cursed the alphabet. By the time his name was called, only the HazMat suits remained. He had a reliable shotgun in his patrol car, however, and he had a garish yellow plastic suit to slip over his uniform, along with an air tank. He queued up with the other State Troopers as the plastic sheets blocking the garage from the rest of the building were slit open with a Swiss Army knife. He waited his turn, and stepped through.

 

***

 

He wished he'd had the foresight to put his sunglasses on before he had the helmet sealed. The sun, which he had not seen in two weeks, appeared to have weathered the attack undiminished. Siemaszko turned his Crown Victoria onto City Line Avenue, spooked at the stillness and his own breathing, loud in his ears.

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He wished he'd had the foresight to put his sunglasses on before he had the helmet sealed. The sun, which he had not seen in two weeks, appeared to have weathered the attack undiminished. Siemaszko turned his Crown Victoria onto City Line Avenue, spooked at the stillness and his own breathing, loud in his ears.

 

As Siemaszko's Crown Vic hits City Line Avenue, the quiet is almost startling. The streets and the sidewalks are empty, it's almost as if the city had become abandoned.

 

Siemaszko's Crown Vic cruises around the occasional abandoned vehicle and down city line avenue, no life can be seen anywhere.

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DAY 3

The seals on the windows and door started to break down, through out the station people were having coughing fits, some even started throwing up, what ever it was outside it was getting worse,

 

The Sarge ordered everyone down in to the nuke shelter, it was a sealed unit with its own air filtering,

 

When we went to collect the prisoners from the holding cells one of them broke loose, screaming about something to do with his ma, he managed to some how get hold of a hand gun, the firefight was short, three dead including the prisoner and the Sarge was fatally wounded,

 

 

DAY 7

Sarge died, poor bastard, we did what we could, but without a doctor and surgery there was little any one could do,

 

 

DAY 10

The stress is getting too much for some, seem to be breaking up more and more fights, not sleeping too well, living on coffee,

 

 

DAY 13

We heard what sounded like radio chatter for the first time today, the signal was weak and broken but it seemed to be people using CB's, one was saying that it was okay, that the chemical cloud had dispersed, we trired to talk but either they didn't want to reply or they couldn't for some reason

 

why no infomation from the goverment?

 

 

DAY 14

We vote, and its decided to send someone out to see what is happening,

 

I volunteer,

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Everyone wishes me well on my mission

 

I tell them that if they don't hear from me in a few days, to send someone out to rescue me, some laugh, others...

 

I tell them not to worry,

 

The large door to the vault opens just enough for me to squeeze through and is closed again, I test my radio, the radio operator in the bunker replied,

 

nothing wrong with our radio then.

 

I head out to the weapons locker and gear up, its then I smell the bodies,

the three dead from over a week ago, it must have been hot in here while we were in the bunker..damn smell...

 

The streets outside seemed very quiet, it was weird,

no presence of any kind, no sounds of distant traffic, not even bird song,

maybe they die in the cloud?

 

I grab the keys to a patrol car and on the way out pass a vendor machine

the power was still on, but I have no change, pepsi looked awesome right now,

I think about smashing the glass and taking the cans, but that would make me no better than a looter,

 

It wasn't a matter of survival yet, but if or when, those cans were mine!,

I laugh alittle, it breaks the tension

 

I find the right car, hope its got a full tank of gas, some how I doubt there will be a service station working around here,

 

I get inside, my cop spidey sense is tingling, I look around but see nothing

damn weird,

 

The car does have a full tank, I turn the engine over and pull out, stopping at the gateway of the car park

 

Where am I going?

 

I can see up and down the street from here.....

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Siemaszko pulled over alongside the Belmount Reservoir. Lowering his driver's side window, he listened for the sounds of any wildlife - the bark of dogs, the songs of birds. The suit muffled the sound, but he dared not risk uncorking just yet. He scanned the reservoir and the skies for signs of life. Any sign.

 

Perhaps the air was once again breathable, perhaps not. But using the canary in a coal mine theory, he waited, listening, in hope of life...

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I Squeezed the switch on the cars radio hand set, maybe I'd have more range with this,

 

I set the radio to the emergency channel 09

" Anyone out there?, this is officer Tony Harper of the PPD, Responed please, over" I waited, static returned,

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"Anyone out there?, this is Officer Tony Harper of the PPD, Respond please, over"

 

Siemaszko jolted, his careful focus on distant noises overloaded by the sudden blare of the radio. He took the handset, clumsily keyed the mic. The outsized yellow mittens that served as gloves did his manual dexterity no favors.

 

"Officer Harper, this is Trooper John Siemaszko of the Pennsylvania State Police. Troop K has recently deployed after two weeks of sheltering in place at Belmont Avenue. We are intent on restoring the peace... but it looks like the peace is taking care of itself. What is your current 10, over?"

 

As he waited for the response, for this officer's location, he returned his focus to the reservoir, hoping to spot some sign of life in order to gauge the lethality of the air.

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Harper was just about to give up on the radio as he went to replace the hand set, when suddenly it crackled to life,

 

He listened to the person talking, What did he say his name was? Semasko? Simazko?

 

"Nice to hear you John!, was starting to wonder if I was one of the few people left in this city, I'm at 12th District PD, 6448 Woodland Avenue, Over"

 

Harper's head raced with a million questions, He wanted to know what had happened over the two weeks, why there was no goverment support, Where was everyone.

 

He waited for Johns reply

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6448 Woodland Avenue. About 8 miles to the south, in Paschall, if memory served.

 

"Copy your 10, Harper. Hang in there, help is on the way."

 

Time to call it in. Siemaszko switched to the State Police frequency.

 

"33-11 to Dispatch, 33-11 to Dispatch, come in."

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6448 Woodland Avenue. About 8 miles to the south, in Paschall, if memory served.

 

"Copy your 10, Harper. Hang in there, help is on the way."

 

Time to call it in. Siemaszko switched to the State Police frequency.

 

"33-11 to Dispatch, 33-11 to Dispatch, come in."

 

The Radio is Stat icy, you hear a voice faintly on the other end for a couple of seconds and then get nothing but static

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Steve was bumming around his girlfriend's place when the announcements started. Her dad had arrived home from work early, but his girlfriend was still on the job.

 

The order was given to shelter in place and dad dutifully obliged. The house was reasonably stocked with food as he had grown up in the 50s with the scare of "The Bomb."

 

Steve could care less about being prepared. "What a way to ruin the 4th of July! Guess I'll just fire up the xbox." He headed to the basement.

 

Dad was getting worried, he hadn't heard from his wife or daughter and the news reports were troublesome. "I'm going out to find my family" he announced. Steve didn't look away from the TV. "Say hi to 'em for me." Dad grunted in disgust and muttered something under his breath.

 

Steve never saw him again. After a couple of days, the power went out and he was upset that the xbox didn't work anymore. He'd been eating whatever he could find in the fridge, but it wasn't going to last forever. He found an old transistor radio, but all he could get on it was either silence or static. Less concerned with what was going on outside, Steve was just glad that the old man hadn't barked at him for being "not good enough for his daughter." Plus, he broke the rule of "no smoking in the house."

 

After a week, ok, now things were starting to creep him out. Looking out the window, the street was empty. He hadn't seen or heard another soul since dad left. Nothing worked anymore, either. The phone, the stove, the TV, the xbox. They were all dead. Still, he wasn't about to go outside unless he really had to.

 

After ten days, the food had run out. Still, he was too scared to leave. The house had been buttoned up tight and he wasn't about to throw open a window. The news had said something about chemicals. Steve lit his last cigarette.

 

After two weeks, hunger finally overcame fear. Steve grabbed a backpack and a baseball bat and dared to head outside. There was a hot, July sun greeting him as he opened the door. An eerie silence lingered in the street. His stomach broke the quiet with a low rumble. Right, food. He jaunted down to the local convenience store for some munchies and smokes.

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Steve arrives at the local convenience store, a small WAWA in the local strip of shops, one of the few that did not end up being closed and moved after a bigger WaWa was built.

 

The store is dark, but looks untouched. Steve enters and is greated by the smell of spoiled food, the result of Milk, Fruit and other foods going bad after not being refrigerated properly.

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Steve suppressed his gag reflex and looked for a cloth to cover his nose and mouth. "Time to do some shopping!" Out of habit, he glanced at the security cameras and over his shoulder towards the front door. Yep, the store was empty. Even the little red light on the camera was off.

 

Like a kid in a candy store he started stuffing his backpack with whatever caught his fancy. He paused long enough to tear open a candy bar and shove it into his mouth. The soda he grabbed would have been better if it wasn't warm, but it still quenched his thirst just the same. With a full belly and a backpack full of goodies, Steve paused. He just couldn't let an opportunity like this pass.

 

He snatched the baseball bat and swung it over his head. He glanced left and right, an impish grin came to his lips as he brought the heat down onto the cash register. The cacophony of metal, plastic, glass, nickels, dimes and quarters was music to his ears. Steve reached over and grabbed a wad of 20 dollar bills and stuffed them into his pocket. He knew they were probably worthless now, but it didn't matter. In a final act of defiance, he swiped a lottery instant-win ticket and scratched. He strode back out into the sunlight as he revealed the "You've won!" message on the card.

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Siemaszko waited for a reply on the radio, then took a few minutes to scout around for wildlife - any life.

 

Deciding it was tough to tell in the canary yellow HazMat suit, he turned the car to the south and headed for the I-76 East.

 

He scrutinized the homes and businesses as he drove, looking for any activity. Then, tiring of the eerie stillness, he let the engine of his Crown Vic roar to life, put on his light bar. He would find this Officer Harper, and with the red and blue lights flashing atop his car, maybe somebody else might find him.

 

Assuming that there was anyone alive in the city.

 

"There has to be" he thought as he merged onto the Interstate. "We survived for two weeks with only the emergency supplies on hand."

 

Somebody, surely many somebodies, had to have done the same. Maybe the city had been evacuated, and the State Police had somehow not been informed. But this was fundamentally wrong. No bodies, noone wandering the streets in shock... nothing at all but the city and the silence.

 

Trooper John Siemaszko hoped that Officer Tony Harper of the Philadelphia Police would be able to illuminate the situation. His foot lowered on the accelerator, taking the car up to 80.

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Steve suppressed his gag reflex and looked for a cloth to cover his nose and mouth. "Time to do some shopping!" Out of habit, he glanced at the security cameras and over his shoulder towards the front door. Yep, the store was empty. Even the little red light on the camera was off.

 

Like a kid in a candy store he started stuffing his backpack with whatever caught his fancy. He paused long enough to tear open a candy bar and shove it into his mouth. The soda he grabbed would have been better if it wasn't warm, but it still quenched his thirst just the same. With a full belly and a backpack full of goodies, Steve paused. He just couldn't let an opportunity like this pass.

 

He snatched the baseball bat and swung it over his head. He glanced left and right, an impish grin came to his lips as he brought the heat down onto the cash register. The cacophony of metal, plastic, glass, nickels, dimes and quarters was music to his ears. Steve reached over and grabbed a wad of 20 dollar bills and stuffed them into his pocket. He knew they were probably worthless now, but it didn't matter. In a final act of defiance, he swiped a lottery instant-win ticket and scratched. He strode back out into the sunlight as he revealed the "You've won!" message on the card.

 

Steve stepped out of the convience store, in the distance he hears a noise, he can tell it is in the distance and it sounds almost like traffic noise from a nearby highway.

 

Looking around the streets are dead and quiet. The building around were dark and all stoplights are out.

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Siemaszko waited for a reply on the radio, then took a few minutes to scout around for wildlife - any life.

 

Deciding it was tough to tell in the canary yellow HazMat suit, he turned the car to the south and headed for the I-76 East.

 

He scrutinized the homes and businesses as he drove, looking for any activity. Then, tiring of the eerie stillness, he let the engine of his Crown Vic roar to life, put on his light bar. He would find this Officer Harper, and with the red and blue lights flashing atop his car, maybe somebody else might find him.

 

Assuming that there was anyone alive in the city.

 

"There has to be" he thought as he merged onto the Interstate. "We survived for two weeks with only the emergency supplies on hand."

 

Somebody, surely many somebodies, had to have done the same. Maybe the city had been evacuated, and the State Police had somehow not been informed. But this was fundamentally wrong. No bodies, noone wandering the streets in shock... nothing at all but the city and the silence.

 

Trooper John Siemaszko hoped that Officer Tony Harper of the Philadelphia Police would be able to illuminate the situation. His foot lowered on the accelerator, taking the car up to 80.

 

Siemaszko steared his Crown Vic down the ramp and onto 76, except for the occasional deer you see no other living creatures so far.

 

Siemaszko finds it difficult to get down 76, as their are abandoned cars everywhere (make a driving roll)

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Siemaszko roared through a slalom of abandoned vehicles on the Interstate, focused on making speed to get to the one survivor he knew of that had not been at K Troop.

 

To the side of the road he saw a furtive movement, a hint of soft brown.

 

A deer! Living, watching his approach, apparently healthy! So, the air was passable, at least. Good news. Once he'd made it to his destination, he would take the HazMat suit off. Unless Harper was in one too...

 

(Results for 5D+2 = Total: 20 - if the shoulders of the Interstate are clear, I'll take the shoulder - I am the law, and Code 2 high right now. If the shoulders are also blocked, I'll find the nearest exit and take surface streets...)

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Siemaszko roared through a slalom of abandoned vehicles on the Interstate, focused on making speed to get to the one survivor he knew of that had not been at K Troop.

 

To the side of the road he saw a furtive movement, a hint of soft brown.

 

A deer! Living, watching his approach, apparently healthy! So, the air was passable, at least. Good news. Once he'd made it to his destination, he would take the HazMat suit off. Unless Harper was in one too...

 

(Results for 5D+2 = Total: 20 - if the shoulders of the Interstate are clear, I'll take the shoulder - I am the law, and Code 2 high right now. If the shoulders are also blocked, I'll find the nearest exit and take surface streets...)

 

((The roll of 20 is enough to easily make it through the mess))

 

Siemaszko heads towards his goal, as he travels down I-76 he sees a slight movement by the side of the road. He couldnt make out exactly what it was, but it didnt seem to be an animal.

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Checking his rear view mirrors, Siemaszko hits the brakes.

 

That was no deer. Easing the Crown Vic to a halt, he untapes the yellow mittens from the sleeves and pulls them off. He might need his trigger finger, and soon...

 

He searches around where he'd thought he saw the shape. He flips a switch on the dash, and lifts the mic.

 

"This is the Pennsylvania State Police. We are here to help. Show yourself."

 

He waited while the echo from the loudspeakers died down.

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It had not been a good day. And like many not good days recently Kitty had wound up in the Time Out Room in the schools basement. Anger, despair, those dont solve things. Kitty had sat in the dark room and tried to meditate

 

It went well, she soon found peace with herself and felt relaxed, refreshed. Kitty also found a spiderweb in her hair and on her face. The spider wasn't doing her any harm really, so she gently set it aside, but that was pretty unusual . . . and it felt like she hadn't eaten or other things for a year, which was more important than spiders really.

 

Important things dealt with Kitty realized things were a bit off. It was wonderfully quiet, the showers were cold (but not that cold, nothing beats mountain waterfalls for cold), and her suitcase and most of her clothes missing. Actually everyone else's stuff seemed largely missing, along with everyone else. Field trip?

 

Still the sun was bright, the world outside was quiet, and it seemed a great day. So she grabbed her backpack and wooden swords, and left the state school behind, right through its unguarded gates.

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Checking his rear view mirrors, Siemaszko hits the brakes.

 

That was no deer. Easing the Crown Vic to a halt, he untapes the yellow mittens from the sleeves and pulls them off. He might need his trigger finger, and soon...

 

He searches around where he'd thought he saw the shape. He flips a switch on the dash, and lifts the mic.

 

"This is the Pennsylvania State Police. We are here to help. Show yourself."

 

He waited while the echo from the loudspeakers died down.

 

You wait for a couple of moments but you dont see any sign of life. Whoever or whatever it was continued down the hill

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Harper waited till after John had finished his reply then he tried to radio the people back at the bunker an update to the current situation, but got nothing but static, Damn Radio not worth sh**

maybe something was interfering with the radio signal,

maybe, maybe, maybe,

but it would explain alot,

 

But could not leave the are until he heard more from john,

he knew John had his current local, so waiting was the best option right now,

He didn't fancy going back to the station, the smell of the bodies...

 

So stayed with his vehical,

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It had not been a good day. And like many not good days recently Kitty had wound up in the Time Out Room in the schools basement. Anger, despair, those dont solve things. Kitty had sat in the dark room and tried to meditate

 

It went well, she soon found peace with herself and felt relaxed, refreshed. Kitty also found a spiderweb in her hair and on her face. The spider wasn't doing her any harm really, so she gently set it aside, but that was pretty unusual . . . and it felt like she hadn't eaten or other things for a year, which was more important than spiders really.

 

Important things dealt with Kitty realized things were a bit off. It was wonderfully quiet, the showers were cold (but not that cold, nothing beats mountain waterfalls for cold), and her suitcase and most of her clothes missing. Actually everyone else's stuff seemed largely missing, along with everyone else. Field trip?

 

Still the sun was bright, the world outside was quiet, and it seemed a great day. So she grabbed her backpack and wooden swords, and left the state school behind, right through its unguarded gates.

 

Kitty walks swiftly through the gate and down the short path towards the city. When she reaches the end of the private road where it meets a public street she looks left and then right and sees no cars.

 

Which is strange for this time of day

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