Forums » Sci-Fi Roleplay » Post-War Los Angeles

The large city now lay barren at the center of the blast site, where a huge crater scars the earth and the nuclear gases, ash, and fumes from the third world war still pollute the air, leaving few without asthma, injury, or mutations. The city is now divided into three sections:

The Blast Site - Where the poor folk and underprivileged scrape up what they can and constantly are on the move to avoid being stolen from.

The Middle Circle - This is where middleclass lives. You'd be doing pretty well here, especially those farthest away from the Blast Site, like Antonio for example, in his nice apartment on Martin Luther King Jr. Street.

The Final Circle - Where the richest live. Cars are common here, unlike the other two sectors. Law enforcement is also much more lenient. Occasionally Antonio visits here to publish his true-account books, which his how he makes a living, recalling the past events of WWIII for those who wish to know why and how the Russian and Korean Communists and Neo-Nazis attacked the largest cities in the US, as well as the soldier's true thoughts on the events.

That's all there really is to it. Be careful, and just maybe you'll survive in this hellscape of greed and darkness...";

A young girl sat outside on a bench in The Middle Class area. Her silver hair slightly blowing along with the breeze. She was sitting up straight, hands folded nicely on her lap. She was calm, enjoying the outdoors. She stared ahead at an apartment. She had a white winter coat on, covering the clothes she was wearing underneath. Her legs were however exposed to the cold breeze but she didn't seem to mind.

She kept staring ahead with her one blue eye and the other yellow. She then crossed her legs slowly.

Antonio's boots fell quickly down the pavement of the street as he hurried to turn in the fifth installment of his ongoing series of first-accounts. "Mr. Black isn't one to be patient." He mumbled under his breath, running a hand through his sweat-drenched, mussed dark hair as he walked at a steady pace. He took a right, checking his watch as he walked. Unfortunately, this caused him to run right into a large bald man, wearing green mechanic's overalls and a red plaid button up. "What'chu doin', bowah? You lookin' ta git beat?" The man boomed in a deep voice down at the scrappy looking fellow, who looked quite small compared to the other man. "I apologize, i'm just in a hurry is all." Antonio said as he tried to walk around, only to be pulled back by the back of his shirt and tossed onto the cement. He scraped his arm, but he ignored the pain, quickly on his feet again and picking up the binder full of papers. "I don't have time for this." He said simply, and as the man raised his fist, Antonio's pistol was drawn, a rage-filled glare on his features, not a hint of tremble in his hands or fear in his eyes. "I told you. I don't have time." The large man put his hands up, backing away with a shocked expression. Antonio, however kept a hand on the pistol within its holster as he continued on his way. The human mind was unpredictable. Another right and then a left, and he was nearing the bus stop, when he saw a lone girl on a bench. Curious as to why she'd be alone on a cold day like this, he approached her with the friendliest smile he could manage. He had just a little bit of time left, but... Safety of others was a much preferred thing. Besides, he could come up with the sixth quickly, just putting in a lot of filler like hanging out with other soldiers. Orphans were common, but most children usually had a little group of their own to live with, the eldest becoming the guardians for the younger ones. "What are you doing here all alone? It's dangerously cold out today." He said as he glanced at his watch again. 2:36.. He had a good 27 minutes... If he spent a couple here he could catch the bus and get to Black's quickly.

The girl watched as a young man collided with a much older looking man, much larger then the man before him. She watched the smaller man scramble to collect his files from off the floor. She watched them talk then the older man walking away, rather frightened. She thought that the younger man would be the one walking away frightened but she underestimated him. She didn't know exactly what the young man did to scare the older one away but whatever it was, he just saved himself from being beaten.

She looked down at her folded hands and then glanced back up, only to see the young man walking towards her. Was he coming to scare her now? She was a bit nervous... But tried her best not to show it. She saw him mouth something, she couldn't exactly hear but then she understood what he was asking.

"Cold? I don't find it that cold out here..." Was all she managed to say. She didn't want to start a fight by saying something wrong.

"Not cold out here? Man... With the ash blocking out the sun and regular Los Angeles cold weather, it's like a freezer out here." He said with a chuckle, then checked his watch again. "You'd best get inside or something, I need to go and get this published." He said, just as the bus began to pull away. He caught it quickly, slipping inside and tossing a few coins into the irritated driver's collection box and finding a seat. Today was going to be "one of those days"...

She watched as the bus drove away, disappearing in the distance. Coppelia sighed deeply, deciding to listen to the man and stood up slowly from the bench. She put her hood up, concealing her face and began to walk towards a near coffee shop across the street. She didn't have any home to go to... So she decided just to go get a coffee.

She defiantly wasn't going to tell anyone she came from The Blast State.

An hour or so later, Antonio returned. A smile on his face a few extra hundred in his wallet, he decided to stop for a cup of coffee as a treat... When he received a shocking sight. The same girl from before, in the coffee shop now? Well, it was better than outside in the frigid, windy streets. He was actually thankful to live in this place... It had much more order than the Final Circle, where law hardly mattered. Men died from greed and jealousy there every day. perhaps even every hour. Ordering himself a cup of simple coffee at the bar, he added a bit of cream and a lot of sugar and then joined the girl at her table. "So we meet again. Do you want some coffee? Or something to eat?" He asked, taking a couple of five-dollar bills from his pocket.. Ridiculous, right? Ten dollars for a coffee and sandwich... But that's what the war had done to the economy. At least the president was doing something about it. The man had been clearing up barrows from other countries and increased minting tenfold. "Hm... Come to think of it, can't remember his name." He mumbled, thinking out loud. Without a TV or radio, he could only keep up with word on the street. For all he knew, the president he knew of could have been out of office already.

Coppelia looked up, making eye contact with the man once again and smiled slightly. She wasn't expecting to run into him again.

"No... It's your money, I'm fine. I was just going to go get a cup of coffee for myself..." She said politely and quickly rose up from her seat, now looking down at him.

Antonio nodded. "Okay. I'm Antonio, by the way." He said softly, putting the money back into his wallet. As usual, he looked tired and worn, so he knew he probably seemed a little scary. He didn't mean any harm, though, of course.

"Nice to meet you, Antonio." She said softly and stoke her hand out in front of him for a hand shake while still standing up. "I'm Coppelia"

Took Coppelia's hand gently, offering a slight shake before letting go. It was an awkward bit of silence before he spoke up, setting his binder on the table. "I'm an author." He said, opening it up. "Just thought it was an interesting trait, if you wanted to know. I write true account books about.. The war." He seemed reluctant to even speak about it.

Coppelia put her arm back down loosely by her side as she listened to him closely. Her eyes widened when he mentioned the war and she slowly sat back down in her seat, folding her hands on top of the table and resting them there.

"Y-you write about the war?" She asked, stuttering. She knew he did, he said it himself.

He nodded, then pulled his dog-tags out from his shirt. They jingled lightly against each other, and the cafe' fell silent. Everyone stared at him. It was rare to see... A survivor. That's what they were called. Survivors of the war... Despite extreme losses, the US won their war against Communism and Nazism. It wasn't much better for Korea, Russia, or the Nazi Parties either. In fact, a new law had been put into place that prohibited Nazi activity and support, punishable by imprisonment for attempted murder of the first degree just for dealing with the monsters. "I was a soldier. A sergeant. My nickname was Mad Dog, because of how enraged I fought. Even in practice runs, I had a death-stare scowl, my friends said." He ran a hand through his hair. "I don't like to talk about it though. It's much easier to write... " He mumbled softly, something about "losing so many good men".

Coppelia stared at him in shock, matching all the people's faces in the room. She then looked away, placing her middle and index finger on her bottom lip gently. She leaned back in her chair, thinking about the war.

She shook her head, not wanting to think about that stuff. She stood up straight in her chair again while looking at him. "Mad Dog? That's quite the nickname." She said softly while smiling gently at him. She turned her head, looking out the window while resting her head on her hand. She thought about the war and felt like crying but she wouldn't.

He nodded, a small smile coming to his lips. "I remember Porkchop. And Dusty. These two were my two best friends in the military. Porkchop got his name from being the chef. Funny, though, how he barely had any meat on his bones, and yet his nickname was Porkchop. Dusty got his because the day he enrolled, he came in dusty overalls. He was a farm boy." His own eyes seemed to be quivering a bit, holding back tears. "They both died during an aerial attack on Krasnoyarsk.. Their cargo truck hit a landmine. It flipped into a building, and they were killed on impact. It's a dark memory... But strangely, it's one that I hold dear. Perhaps that's the day I first realized how much I hated the war."

Coppelia listened to his story closely while continuing to look out the window. She chuckled slightly when he mentioned someone being nicknamed "Porkchop". Her smile faded when she listened to the end of his story. She turned her head and looked at him, seeing her was holding back his own tears. She felt pathetic, making him talk about something he was clearly uncomfortable discussing.

She rose from her seat and unzipped her black coat, revealing a plain old white t-shirt and a black skirt and, of course, the numbers "20987" printed in black on her right arm. She set down her coat next to her on the seat, sitting back down slowly. She looked back at him.

"What did you do next?" She said quietly. She couldn't help asking.

Antonio froze for a moment, seeing those numbers. "... Interesting markings you have there." He said in a cold tone, lowering his hand down to his hip calmly. It was strange. All of it was adding up in his head. Big guy to distract him. A lone girl in this district whom he just happened to meet again at this coffee shop.. And she's an android. "All I want to know, is one thing. Are you here to kill me? If so.. Who sent you? And why? I'll go peacefully, if I at least know these two things." He seemed as if he were very prepared to die, but... The stern, stubborn look in his eye, tightness in his jaw, and blink-of-the-eye reflexive gestures on that pistol on his hip suggested otherwise. He wouldn't go peacefully. No way. It was unlikely to a normal person's point of view that a little girl could or wanted to cause him harm... But after what he'd seen...

Coppelia froze, not knowing what he was talking about until she slowly turned her head, staring at the numbers on her arm. Wow, she almost forgotton those were there. She stared at them for awhile then back at him.

She sighed deeply and looked down at her lap, preparing for a lot of explaining. "I don't know." She whispered. "I don't know if I'm here to kill you or help you... I... I don't know if I know you from before or don't. I don't want to kill you..." She whispered as she clenched her fists. "I don't know who I am, where I came from... So I can't answer you." Her voice cracked at the end. She was nearly close to crying but she couldn't cry here. Not now.

She wiped her eyes with her hands and grabbed her coat quickly, setting it in her lap as she had a feeling that she should leave soon.

Antonio cursed himself... He had to go soft. Becoming less tense, he reached out cautiously to touch the girl's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I.. I've just been cautious about this thing... Being who I am, plenty of people both want to preserve and destroy me. Those who want to destroy me are the onest hat scare me... Because sometimes, they can send things like you. Powerful machines with uncontrollable killing ability."

Coppelia relaxed when he placed his hand on her shoulder. She still didn't look up from her lap though. She then tensed up when he called her a "machine". Her hair fell down from behind her ears, creating a veil covering her face. She started shaking while clutching her coat tighter.

"I-I'm sorry I frighten you. This most be so hard for you." She stuttered, "You don't know who to trust and who not too. I'm sorry, maybe you shouldn't trust me. I don't want to hurt you since you seem hurt enough." She said as she lifts her coat up and puts her arm in one arm hole, beginning to put it on.