≫ WHAT WE BECOME: SURVIVOR STORIES APPLICATIONS ≪

  • Applications for What We Become: Survivor Stories are currently on hold while we work on creating our second wave of combat tests.

    What We Become: Survivor Stories is a series of bite-sized scenarios meant to test our new and improved combat system in action! Our first wave contained 5 different scenarios, all taking place within the What We Become universe. Our second wave will contain 5 more scenarios. If you've been waiting to play on the server, now's your chance!

    Additionally, each scenario has a limited number of slots for each role in the party, as well as an overall participation limit. If you apply for a role/scenario that is already full, you will be asked to apply for a different role/scenario. You can view the number of slots remaining for the current scenario on its respective forum post, linked above.

    Make sure to check out our latest newsletter if you haven't yet! It has lots of information about our upcoming lore, among other things.

The Wanderer's Road

Zankio

The Last to Post
Joined
Sep 11, 2019
Messages
25
Points
3
Location
Somewhere in the United Kingdom
The Wanderer watched the Helicopter fly above, and away. He'd spotted it through the fog, heading off to the Country Club, and now he's gazing from the treeline - watching in the quiet solitude of his car while people were boarding the way out.

But the Wanderer couldn't leave yet.

He has many, many, many miles yet to go.

To outrun this beast.


Karma


There's no way to escape - But that's okay.

It's his weight to carry from this world and the next.




Whirl Whirl Whirl

He watched them say goodbye.

How much farther can a man run? He wondered.

Then, the metal bird disappeared into the fog.

Did it even matter?

He watched her smoke against the wall awhile.

There are more important things to worry about right now.

Then, finally, he watched her put a gun to her chin.

He's got to try and give her something.

He stepped out his car and emerged from the treeline. He knows she probably has her reasons. He also knows there probably pretty good ones, too, considering current events. But he had to try. He had to try and help her. He could never live with himself if he didn't. As the woman sat in silence, contemplating, undoubtedly, about important stuff. He interrupted the heavy silence with an exaggerated southern accent.

"Care for a drink, ma'am?"


He shook a small bottle of Rye Whiskey. And offered a gentle, wry grin of hope.

If maybe she could stand to open her eyes for a little while longer.


"By the way, my name ain't even Benny."
 
Top