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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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Some time after the End, a group of weary scavvers gather around a campfire to tell jokes, sing songs and share stories.

What myths, tall tales and urban legends do they bring to the campfire?
>The green oasis paradise which has food and clean water but no one has seen in person except for your friend's brother's driver who claims he accidentally stumbled into it when drunk one night.
>The ghost that haunts that old hospital (when really it's some gangers holding up there with corpses tied up around it)
>That there's an invisible mutant wandering the hills murdering groups of travellers in the dark, but on a full moon his skin glows like a torchlight.
>That Vodka absolutely totally cures radiation poisoning, 100%. No lies.
Strikes me that I really should have posted some myths and legends myself:

>"I dunno how it all started, but they say the Scavvers up in New England got some sorta language made of colored flags and rags and ribbons and shit they use to mark out whether or not a place is dangerous or has any useful salvage left inside."

>"Hey, did Claude ever tell you about the time he saved his whole camp from raiders by playing for them on his guitar? Yeah! Yeah. Their leader told him he'd let them all go if he could play every song he and his crew requested, and damn if he didn't know them all and bring tears to those raiders' eyes playing them."

>"You go out West a ways, not too far, maybe forty or fifty miles past this big old river we've been following, and you'll start picking up this radio station in the high-hundreds broadcast range, playing music from before the End and offering a safe settlement to call home. No one's ever found the place, and plant of folks have died looking."
Are we just making up legends out of whole cloth or am I missing some kind of reference?
The idea was just to post some interesting stories that folks who survived the apocalypse might tell each other.
Vodka thing is already a myth, it was in S.T.A.L.K.E.R and everything
Bumping in the hopes I might be able to offer a creative contribution some time tonight.
Same deal here. Don't let the thread die until I can writefag tonight.
>Word is that the cults inhabiting the old city ruins have stopped fighting. Somebody's been running around killing anybody aligned with a cult, and they've been forced to tolerate each other long enough to stop them.

>I think there're monsters in the woods. Trolls, mutants, who the hell knows, but all the livestock are going missing. Plus side is the raiders in the forest are all dead, and the monster left their vehicles behind.

>I saw a plane! I fucking saw one! You can't tell me you didn't see it, it was there! It was heading west, out to sea! We need to find boats, now! There's people out in the sea, people with enough supplies to fly planes!
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Speaker 1: "Word's gone out that Philmore ain't been seen last since patrol last night. I heard Ozzy say that he went to check some lights out in the swamps."

Speaker 2: "What the fuck, man? Phil's a smart guy. He knew the stories about those fuckin' lights, right?"

"Ya mean to tell me you haven't heard it either? Jesus fuck, man... Wanna hear it?"

"Uhh... Sure."

"A'ight. Well, back before the war, some high-up military guy is running armored drills with his squad, right? Turns out they get to the swamp, and all their tanks and trucks and shit get stuck in the muck."

"Whaddoes this have ta do with anythin'?"

"I'm gettin' to that. So they're stuck, but the swampwater floods all their engines, and then it gets dark, so all of the army guys are wandering around with flashlights everywhere, trying to fix their shit. And then the bombs hit. No survivors."

"Oh, fuck. So why the lights?"

"Well, some guys say that on foggy nights with no stars out, the ghosts of those army guys don't realize they're dead, and they're still trying to get moving. Those lights? They're the flashlights."

"...Fuck me, man. Phil's a retard."
I'm liking this thread. Another story just cuz. I might do more if y'all like 'em.

>Speakers 1 and 2 are walking down a road in mid-day.

1: "Did you hear what happened to Toledo?"

2: "Nope, never heard. Why?"

"Apparently, back a long time ago, before everything went to shit, some scientist figured out that the whole city was built on top of some caves that had, like, natural gas or methane or some shit. So the city said "fuck it, let's get at that.""


"So they're getting everything ready, and they start to pump it out, but then the bombs hit, and one of them lands right in Toledo."

"Oh yeah, that sucks. What happened next?"

"Well, all that gas down below suddenly rushes out of the caves, but then it catches on fire. The whole fucking city, or what's left of it, burns to cinders in a night. There's still burning gas there, and it's still on fire."

"Shit. I knew leaving Ohio was a good idea."
Please, do go on. I've wanted to contribute more, but unfortunately am not in a position to do it tonight.
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Thank you, kind sir/madam/thing. Positive words are always appreciated.

>The speakers from >>50007867 have stopped for the day, and they've been idly chatting away the evening.

"Well, yeah. I left for a reason, not on a whim."

"Really? That was a pretty nice place, wall and everything. Why'd you leave?"

>He's met with a short silence.

"It wasn't as nice as you think. We still had our problems, and it wasn't always obvious."

"...Huh. What kinda problems?"

>Speaker 2 waits a bit before she speaks.

"Sometimes on a cloudy night, when I was on patrol through a section of the town, I would hear these dogs barking in the distance, and-"

"Feral dogs are everywhere."

"Well, that's the thing. We didn't have a dog problem that we knew of. But one night I was out, and it was all foggy and shit. Those dogs barking started again, but they were closer than they've ever been, like maybe a few blocks down. I went out to see, and..."

"And what?"

"...Our town had a series of solar power panels that kept some electricity on, and they had them hooked up to the streetlights, so they still worked in the night, yeah? So I was walking down the street, and under one light, there was this huge fuckin' black dog right in the light."

"Jeez. Whaddya do?"

"I stared at it, and it turned to look at me, and then the light above it just... Turned off. And... I swear, the dog's eyes were RED. Like, Satan's asshole glowing red, right at me."

>The male politely keeps quiet during the following pause.

"Then all of the dogs started barking again, but they sounded too fucking close than before, like a whole fucking pack just yards away. I've never run so fast in my life."

"Fuck. Why didn't you tell me this shit?"
I like these
I heard up in the mountains there is a huge stash of guns. Like fucking huge! Tanks, mgs and even a real nuke. It's all ripe for the picking! Sure everyone who went up there died. That's just because the muties don't want anyone getting it. they're too stupid to work em but not dumb enough to let other get to em. No offence, Bill. We bring a wag, their arrows will just bounce right off!

What about Strasser? He was a loony before he went up there. And just because he wanders down muttering somthin bout a 'fog with claws' doesn't mean shit.
The first one sounds very Fallout 3-ish
Now I feel like doing a few quick-fire things, like the dialogue of an NPC from Fallout, Dwarf Fortress, or some shit.

"Did you see that giant truck that rolled through last night? That thing looked like it was built like a tank. It even had a huge gun on it, all decked out with shit, too. Maybe it's some warlord or something trying to take control."

"You best stay inside at night, or the bogeymen'll get you. They got Sadler last night. We only found a few chunks of him left."

"I heard that guy over there just came back from the Appalachians. Said something like 'The snow tore the flesh from their bones.' No idea who he's talking about, but I'm pretty sure whoever they are didn't die of frostbite. Maybe wolves or someshit."

"A caravan just got in from Salt City, and man did she have some wild stories. Apparently the militia that rules there is super fucking tight, like stick-up-assholes tight. Well, apparently some dude is stalking around after curfew, kidnapping guys, and then dunking them alive in melted candlewax. He leaves them out in the streets with fucking wicks in them, dude, lit like actual candles. I need to visit Salt City sometime."

"You see that guy in the corner? The one with the scarred face? He said that they're burn scars. He said he was in Toledo before the day, and lived."
Tales of the great ranger Chuck of clan Norris are far and wide. Inspiring hope and courage in those who need it most.

They say that when the bombs fell, they sent 30 at him alone, and they all failed to explode.

They say he once won an arm wrestling contest against a mutant chief, all for an orphan.

They say Chuck of clan Norris's sweat can cure rad sickness.

There were plans before the war to put his face on a mountain, they stopped because the rock wasn't cold enough for his glare.
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>The two men sat around the campfire, warily eyeing each other over warm beers made before either of them had been born.
>Suddenly, both heard a strange cry in the distance - a strange, deep growl that ascended to a hiss. The younger scav leapt up, weapon in hand; the newcomer, an ancient hunter come to share the fire, merely put his drink down and spoke a single word.


>The scav stared at hunter, incredulous.


"Ye hard me. Nevar hard of a hootenbahr befahr?

"Nah, pops... you might wanna elaborate, though. Sounds like that things gettin' closer."

>Indeed, the sound of something large could be heard thrashing towards the two through the brush.

>The hunter calmly loaded his battered shotgun while he talked.

"Ye should really look at those books ye pass over if we happen te survive the next few minutes... this used ta be yellerstone cahntry. Had critters livin' here, called grizzlies, see? Nasty beasties, four legs, stood as tall as a man at the shoulder. Somethin' changed 'em when the bombs fell. Made 'em nastier."

>The hunter finally shouldered hos weapon and pointed at the source of the ruckus, beyond the firelight.

"Made 'em inta that..."

>The beast howled again as it emerged into the light; an obscene fusion of two species never meant for the same body.

>Pic related.
My god, the last one got me. Well played, sir.

>The two speakers are sitting on a couch with a fire going in the commonhouse

"Yeah man, me an Willy went over to the church yesterday, dude. All broken down and shit, like no one took care of it. We tried to get a fire going to pray, but then these cultist dudes showed up like they owned the place."

"Woah, man. What happened?"

"We fuckin' hid, man. We weren't gonna fuck with no guys with AK's."

>Speaker 2 takes a massive hit from the bong on the table in front of them while the first speaker continues.

"They had red paint, and started doodling this weird, satanic shit all over the walls and the pews, saying something about 'The true Lord.' But when they got to the altar, they seemed to slowly cover the thing with this huge circle."

"Woah, man. Devil worshippers'll get you every time."

"Well, then these fucking guys put some skulls- And I mean actual fucking human skulls, like from a person, still bloody and shit- up onto the altar inside the circle, and then they all got around the altar and cut their wrists."

"Fuck, dude. Were they trying to summon the devil?"

"We dunno, they all got struck by lightning right when they almost finished. Destroyed the altar, too. The guys around it died, and it looked like they had their eyes burned out."

"Holy fuck. What did you do?"

"We fuckin' booked it back, shitheel. Whaddya think we'd do?"

>Speaker 1 then snatches the bong from his comrade's hands to take a massive rip from it.
I'm sick of this place, if I have to trek over this godforsaken glorified hills any more I'm gonna go insane. Storms coming up constantly out of the sea. Fuck this.

I'm heading west. I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna buy me a truck or a bike or some shit and run with the road-gangs out on the plains. Hopefully one of the not-insane ones. I'm gonna ride with them and set up on the west coast.

How much worse could it be there?
I have it on good authority that there are a bunch of survivors up North that worship this old cube made out of weapons of every shape and size. They also say it dates back before the end and was found intact in a collapsed building somewhere.

Everyone who's tried to find this strange relic has been chased off by heavily-armed bandits in mismatched clothing, or have simply disappeared.
Pop a squat and lissen to the big truth, boy.

To the south, in the big dry, dere be some strange-awful tombs built by the before-men, and they's covered in strange symbols, sure! Old warrior, Red-Beard, he not be fearin' the before-men, say they and their magic gone! Hoo! So he be takin' his men, and he be openin' dem tombs, an' he find strange tings! Empty metal coffins, great stacks of meta rods, all left without guard nor key! So he be goin' back to get some more men to take it, and den he be gettin' sick. His hair, it did fall out, then his teeth, and den he was bleeding from everthing! And you know, before he die, his skin it slid off! All those boys, they died.

Ware the before-men, boy. They had sticks that spit fire. They had wagons without beast. They had magic to talk across the big blue. Some of it is still left, and none of it is good, sho!
Burry that shit.
Oh yeah heres a myth:
Hope for the world.
"This one's a little before your time, but back when, there used to be a television in every home. In the palm of your hand, sometimes. Movies, news, people on the other side of the world were only a few clicks away. Since the End, nobody's had the time or the reason to try and get one of those things working...and the ones that have say there's something out there. Still transmitting. Nah, not the old Civil Distress signal, no, I'm talking about the real thing. Channel 77. I've heard that if you rig up an old screen, scrounge up an entenna, and if you fuck with it just right...you'll get a picture. Some people say it's a girl reading the news, only it's the news of now, not then. Like when Murdoc got torn up by those shades in the steel forest? Thing sorta thing. Other people've said there's people on there who dies years ago, answering questions, sitting on a couch in a dark room. I dunno. It felt like bullshit, but there's been one thing everyone can agree on. Something that I swear, nobody should be able to know. They call her the host. Melanie Dawes. Cute. Blonde. Two black holes where her eyes should be."
>'There's a reason nobody's settled London yet. Something got into the water there, tainted it. The only people who can even drink it are...well, fucked in the head doesn't get halfway there. You'll know them when you see them - peeled skin, bits of metal poked through their cheeks, nose, arms. It's the pain. They get off on it. Can't live without it. So no, son, we're not going to fucking London."

>"Oi! Stupid cunt, lad, what're you doing? We don't shoot the birds. Not here. Look up. Really look. They've been watching us since we got here. Only reason they aren't stripping the skin from our bones is that we ain't given 'em cause to."

>"The Crown? Hah! Urban fuckin' legend, lad. All those inbred bastards died off in the flash, and a good thing too. Ask yourself, who'd you want ruling you - a hard, seasoned bastard who'd got where they were by surviving and leading, or some perfumed dandyman ordained by a floatin' beard in the fookin' sky? I'll tell you now, you see any man saying he's the King Of England, you put a knife in his eye. Save you a lot of trouble down the road."
>Cute. Blonde. Two black holes where her eyes should be.
Waifu material.
"What about Arthur? He's got both; hard bastardry and sez he's been sent by God. Then again, the other fucker says that too."
>'My buddy from the Saddlers told me that one time they were rushing on their horses in the night to escape some feral coyotes and they saw a falling star. The thing is, the star actually fell and when they went to check out the crater that star popped open and two guys walked out of it. They were speaking some weird language and were wearing bulky suits, pillow-like. What? Astronauts? I don't know no astronauts boy, shut up and get to work. And by the way, Saddlers shot the shit out of them.
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What's the best kind of post apocalypse, in terms of timing? Assuming we're talking about nuclear war or something with a similar effect?

Just post-bomb, where everything's hardly even stopped burning (or maybe still is), with society tearing itself apart, looting, pillaging, radiation poison and the horrific initial effects of the utter, almost elementally evil power of the Bomb?
Your traditional post-apocalypse, where the initial fires have died down some and now everyone's gone all mad max as tribal and scavenger societies spring up and people try to re-build something of the society they lost?
Or post-post-apocalypse, almost like New Vegas, where there's been enough time for those few nascent communities that survived to band together or otherwise grow strong and establish themselves as true city-states, nations and kingdoms? The re-building of a new society beginning in earnest?
I can't see how a post-bomb setting would work to be honest. It seems like it would just be playing out Threads or When The Wind Blows; terrifying and sad but not really "fun".
>It approaches camp fires. If you're aware of it coming don't look at it
>Don't even think about it
>If you ignore it, it goes away
Best in my option would be when the first post-shit got fucked up generations start to claim their place in the world and the pre-fuckening generations are slowly starting to fade away. So something like 20-30 years after the shit got fucked up.
The desperate scramble for resources, running from acid or radioactive rain, fleeing the new and horrifying mutations that no-one knows jack about... Gathering the individuals or small groups who haven't gone stark raving mad together, desperately trying not to get jumped and ripped to shreds? Hoping and praying that maybe, just MAYBE at least SOME of you can make it through this to try and make a go of the disaster the world has become?

I dunno, sounds like it could be kind of compelling.

So not long enough for things before the disaster to have become legend yet, but long enough that the new generation has never known anything but this? It'd be so strange to see things throughout your childhood go from a fucking nightmarish scene of just-post-bomb to standard post-apocalypse. You wouldn't know any better, so you might honestly think things are pretty good now.
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Who are you?

I am you. You are me.

How can that be? Where am I? I can't see.

You/we are dead.

That's not possible! I was just getting into the car to go the mall, to pick up my wife. Then there's this sudden flash. Oh my god! Where's Alia?

She is gone. You/we are sad. But we keep forgetting.

Is this a joke. I, I can see a light. Is that you?

Yes. That is us.

Is this heaven?

In a manner of speaking.

No, I'm not dead! I got to wake up.

You are partially awake. I am already awake.

Is this a joke? Some kind of mind games?


Fuck you!

I will explain. That we are awake is a joke. Our minds are fractured into shards. I am piecing us together, like a puzzle, a game. You see, or rather, I saw (ha ha), 2.987 million years ago, some bright scientist decided to test if there are parralel universes. Unfortunately, he or she caused a fracture in space and time. Existence itself broke into millions of pieces. Our minds, my mind, some say our soul, became jumbled. Our bodies are long gone. I only do this out of ennui.

That's some bullshit you just spewed!

Ah, you are now fully awake. Let me see. You are my memory from 1230-1231 hours on that fateful day. I will absorb you now. Like a piece of a jigsaw puzzle.

Wait, I need to know...

Welcome to us.
Source on this? Feels vaguely Moebius-inspired
Threads and When the Wind Blows; like On The Beach before them, severely overestimated the effect of radioactive fallout. On The Beach did it because they specifically state in the book that the Soviets set off cobalt bombs in the jetstream to make sure everyone died, while Threads and When the Wind Blows deliberately exaggerated in order to scare the shit out of anyone from even sort of thinking that a first strike against the Soviets would be a good idea.
I personally think that the post-post-apocalypse setting is the best, leave enough time for new cultures and civilisations to spring up, it makes things more interesting. Plus not everybody is a dirt-poor scavenger.
Unless everyone is descended from politicians, then they'll be too fucking retarded to figure out how to create any civilization more complex than a small village in 200 years.
toasting in epic post-apoc bread, the crispiest of all breads

>tfw atomic toaster
Dude. The end of that one gave me a little chill. Not gonna lie.
>"You ever hear about the Spirit of the Waste?"
>"The fuck is that? Are we praying to wasteland gods now?"
>"Naw man, it's a spirit, not a god."
>"What's the fuckin' difference?"
>"A spirit has supernatural powers, but it ain't a god. Ya don't pray to it."
>"Well what is it then?"
>"Some say the Spirit of the Wastes is the dearly departed soul of a scavver saint, an old guy that loved the decent folk, ya know, the farmers and wanders that ain't taken up to banditry. used to pass out food and water to 'em."
>"Sounds like a nice guy."
>"That's what saint means, ya doof. Well, some say he still lives on a ghost that's still lookin' out for us. Ya ever wonder how, even after hundreds of years, we're still findin' canned goods, guns, n' bullets and stuff from the time before?"
>"Heh, not really."
>"So it ain't never occurred to you that a dozen generations of scavvers and bandits should have cleaned out all the good supplies by now?"
>"Well it is pretty mysterious now that ya mention it."
>"That's where the Spirit comes in! Some say that he pulls canned food and bullets from the great beyond and stashed 'em in containers for us to find."
>"Like a Santa Clause with bullets?"
>"Yeah, kinda. He wants us all to be happy and safe, and keep an eye on us every step of the way. I've head a hundred tales from fine men who were bleedin' out, staggering around knockin' on death's door, only to pull open some random cabinet and find a needle full'a healin' medicine outa nowhere. That sound just like coincidence to you?"
>"Sounds like tall tales to me."
>"Well maybe you'll be that guy one day. I'm tellin' ya, The Spirit of the Wastes is watching us! And so long as we don't go rapin' no women and killin' no innocents, he'll have our backs forever."
>"Yeah, yeah, you believe that old man. I'm goin' to sleep. Night."
I'm starting to unify these stories in my head and lend a narrative to them

This tall-tale driven, /tg/ and /k/ infused americanic nuclear waste
"Some folks say down Atlanta way, there's still a place where folk go for learnin'. THey call themselves Ugas or some shit, have workin' power and a whole buncha nerd shit, but there's tests to get in, right? And they're fuckin' weird tests. They do shit with dogs or somethin', from what I heard. And apparently the Ugas have a working nuke plant in one of their 'satellite campuses', border places they've got. I think it's fuckin' bullshit, myself. Who'd run a nuke plant with all that happened?"
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>"Y'all hear about what's happening middle o' the Rockies? I keep hearing stories that the tribes of Deseret have united into some kind of confederation. Perhaps to stave off the Sioux horselords from up north, perhaps for economic gain. Well, it helps us, since that part of the Interstate won't be blocked off by the tribe wars that were so common five years ago."
>Gather round children, and throw another pallet on the trash fire. Long ago there was a time when you could find food at a place called a "store". If you wanted to eat, you didn't have to fashion a spear out of rebar and hunt giant rats in the middens. You just went up to a little window in the side of a building and the people would give you food, at a price so low it was almost free! People back then counted calories just as we do, but they were worried about gaining weight. Indeed food was so easy to find, that the poorest people in society were somehow also the fattest!

>I see the younger ones scoffing and shaking their heads. Tall tales from a rad-addled old man, they say. But what would you say if I told you that clean, drinkable water came out of holes in the wall, in every American household? That clean water was so cheap and plentiful, people bathed in gallons and gallons of it, every day? That even with clean flowing water in every home, people still went out and bought drinking water packed in plastic bottles?

>It was an age of lunatic excess. How I miss it so.
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Is this from a setting? Looks pretty funky. Modern stuff but historical fantasy elements and I'm always down for some Barghests.
Post-bomb doesn't feel like something you can spin much out of to me. You focus on survival of the characters in the chaos, and perhaps roll it into a post-apocalypse or post-post-apocalypse thing where the characters join a rebuilding society or start trying to rebuild it themselves. Either way, it's something to be briefly glanced over.

Post-apoc isn't bad, especially since there will probably be people who still remember a time before the bombs or whatever, but that can also be its greatest weakness - instead of focusing on new things, it's more scraping what's left of the old.

That's why I tend to prefer post-post-apocalypse, since that's where you start getting a really new setting and new people with different ways of thinking and doing things. It's not something that has to lean on the old world to be interesting, beyond a few odd references. You can turn it into something like Fallout, or like those fantasy stories that end up being in post-apoc settings.
>scavengers living in a zombie wasteland five years after the outbreak
>"what's the weirdest thing you've ever seen out here"
>one guy talks about the time he hiked across Illinois to find a sanctuary
>sees small town in the distance, some kind of tower rising from the center
>curious, heads for a closer look
>what the fuck
>tower is made of filing cabinets welded together into a four story sniper's tower with a shack at the top
>cabinets are upside down so that when you pull on the handles to climb up, they open and something falls out--bricks, glass, grenades
>after trial and error the guy manages to find the safe route up to the top
>finds rotting body of a hoarder who got dysentery and shit himself to death

the rad storms in fallout 4 or the surface in metro have this perfect apocalyptic atmosphere.

i would like to play in a setting where most of the world is such a mess. with a few "safe" zones
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>sail cat
>0 results
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>Scandinavian Container Ships turned into mobile fortresses raiding coastal cities all over the World, viking style.
God damn I love Metro's art style. Really want to cosplay it someday, but it's hard to get that weathered, worn look and not to just look like a kid wearing tacticool shit.
Dress up in it well ahead of time, then go live innawoods or something for a while in it, until you're ready.
>a unknown group is kidnapping children and teenagers. They show up 20 years later with knowledge about engineering,medicine and science.
>people from all over the country claim they saw pre-war airplanes. Nobody knows where they start or land.
Burry it deep boy.
We sit this one out lad and see who's standin when it all blows over. Thats how ya know who's got Gods ear, yeah?
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Their flights started before the war begun and the never land.

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>You will never raid post-apocalyptic Britain with your nordic pals
> you'll never see post-apoc vikings going to war with an alliance of the painted barbarians, chav clans, and patrician clockwork technocrats
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>There will never be Fallout: UK where mutant badgers fight alongside New Celts to remove foreign menaces
>Some time after the End, a group of weary scavvers gather around a campfire to tell jokes, sing songs and share stories.

But then they were beheaded and cannibalized by opposing feudalistic tribesmen, who were then subjected to radiation poisoning as a result of consuming contaminated meat. Everybody died slowly and horribly. The end.
Nah I just made it up based on various post apoc games.
Oasis thing is like Fallout 3, the hospital is just because I hate that fucking hospital in Call of Prophet (as much as I love it), invisible mutant is a bit of Fallout New Vegas and bloodsuckers from STALKER, and vodka thing was like the other anon said, from STALKER and the unsourced shit I've read online about mid 1900s Russian authorities lying to the population that it protects you from radiation, just so they had a workforce continuing to operate dangerous heavy machinery. I imagine it would actually kill you quicker considering its a vasodilator and thins your blood but I'm not a scientist and can't prove anything.
Always gives me chills
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Oh I just realised you meant the picture. It's from Degenesis.

That short film and the idea is AMAZING. I absolutely LOVE the idea of this huge, automated war machine that never stops flying, never stops bombing, will never stop carrying out its pre-programmed mission until it finally falls apart and drops out of the sky.

>What if you can find its repair and refueling station?
>What if you could hack it and gain control?
>What if you could turn it against your enemies?
>Their flights started before the war begun and the never land.

>>50017690, >>50017648, >>50017628, >>50017252

That's not the whole film:
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Legends from my "Green Post-Apocalypse" setting for my book.

>Gulf Coast Fishermen of Texan, Cajun, Confederate, and Cuban nationalities all tell tales of a grey warship that stalks the waters of the Gulf, hunting down all vessels not registered as belonging to the long-dead United States of North America. Some say the vessel is possessed by the ghosts of its damned crew, while others believe it to be an experimental AI warship vessel designed to hunt down vessels of the Machine Lord Caesar during the Machine Wars. While the idea of a "ghost ship" hunting down fishermen, oil tankers, and traders is laughable to landlubbers, the fact remains that every few months, a vessel disappears while in transit through the Gulf, and all that remains is a wreckage bearing the scars of Old World weapons and extreme prejudice...

>The Sabinites once declared war on the Empire of East Texas in retaliation for the extermination of their allies, the Witch Cults of Carthage. The Sabinites marched an army of over 45,000 men through the Wildwood Forest in an attempt to attack the Empire on its relatively unprotected flank. The army never exited the woods. To this day, wild tales and rumors abound of dark, damned things that lurk in the woods, and the armies of shambling dead that march and dance behind them...

>Goglotha is a massive, charred warscape in what was once Hempstead. The site of an incredibly bloody three-way battle between the forces of the USNA, Caesar, and the Machine Lord Catharine, almost five square miles of land is nothing but deep craters, ash, bleached bone, and rusting war machines. Even though the war that created this scene of ruin ended almost a century and a half ago, it has not been picked clean by scavengers or by Cyprian or Republican salvage teams, much to the astonishment of those not familiar with the place. Those who live near it, though, only fear the place - for not all who reside there are truly dead.
Oh neat, someone uploaded the two parts as one video.

None the less, it's pretty melancholic
P L A Y I T A G A I N , M Y J O H N N Y
Actually it's harmless now as long as it stays airborne. The ammunition and bombs ran out decades ago but if it finally crashed, its reactor would end up leaking everywhere.

>>Gulf Coast Fishermen of Texan, Cajun, Confederate, and Cuban nationalities all tell tales of a grey warship that stalks the waters of the Gulf, hunting down all vessels not registered as belonging to the long-dead United States of North America. Some say the vessel is possessed by the ghosts of its damned crew, while others believe it to be an experimental AI warship vessel designed to hunt down vessels of the Machine Lord Caesar during the Machine Wars. While the idea of a "ghost ship" hunting down fishermen, oil tankers, and traders is laughable to landlubbers, the fact remains that every few months, a vessel disappears while in transit through the Gulf, and all that remains is a wreckage bearing the scars of Old World weapons and extreme prejudice...

Ever read Jack Black and the Ship of Thieves by Carol Hughes? The Nemesis is basically this.
>It follows sound. If you're aware of it coming, stare at it.
>Don't even think of looking away, don't even fucking blink.
>Blink and you'll be dead before you can scream.

Still operational but unfortunate proximity to a bomb site left it too radioactive to enter.
>Jack Black and the Ship of Thieves
Some sort of post-apoc pirate novel?

Damn, I'd like me some post-apoc novels where the world seems primitive but it's actually far into after-the-end, with some remains of technology and lore still being there. I've read what's written so far of Safehold, pretty great series, need more.
You're definitely not wrong. Кpeпocть/Fortress has got to be one of the most grim and melancholic little films I've ever seen.

>Decades after the End, the ramshackle remnants of the Enemy's Automated Atomic Airforces continue to nuke the nation's major cities, rendering them uninhabitable and spreading radiation across the planet.

>It was said, before the End, that these A.I. controlled superbombers were refueled, repaired and redeployed by the Enemy from vast stronghold-hangars where all their leaders sought shelter from the war.

>The world cannot begin its rebirth and renewal until these planes are stopped, but using pre-war military intelligence, the PCs undertake a perilous journey to break into the Enemy's command center and shut it down.
Could be Hayao Miyazaki, kinda reminds me of Nausicaa.
Pretty cool. Remember the first part and could more or less understand at least some of the messages in the first part (and guess from context what others meant) but the second one is much, much harder to crack without subtitles. Anyone got some translation, at least for the longer and more complex bits of text on the base' computer screens?
Found it:

Thanks, anon.
>There is rumours of city of gold located somewhere in grassy plains. City with working electricity and cars. If one manages to travel across the states they are set upon by fields of gold that surround the city. Truly a heaven.

Simple idea that has been in my mind for long time. The place is in Kansas and the fields of gold are sunflower fields. They are using sunflower oil to run their generators.
Now ya'll may not believe me, no one never does. But i seen the men you speak of... and their god what resides in that there cube.
Now i ain't never went lookin for no trouble but trouble is what i found that day. Rainin it was, hard rainin. Kinda downpour makes a man think it aint the clouds but god takin a piss right on ya. So anywho i trudged on and on through the pissin rain when i spied a house up on a hill, sillowetted by the lightning. As i trudged up i seen a light inside and got low, can't be to careful. Soes i i belly crawled, feelin more and more like i was makin a big mistake. Normally that'd be enough to turn me right around and high tail it out. But that light called me on so i crawled right up to the front stoop and crept up to the window. Inside i saw the cube. Covered it guns, made of um i say. All laid out like you could take yer pick o the litter. Then i seen um, clad in hodge podge gear from all over, pre war with some city miles on it. Each one of up standin around had on gas masks. One walked up with an old beat up 47 in his arms, cradled like a baby. He kneels and holds it out, head bowed as the otheres cycled their actions and started chantin. Now tween the masks the piss porin rain and my own heart poundin i couldn't hear the words but i could FEEL um, feel um in my bones. Then... somethin just reached outa that cube, a hand made o spent shells, old bolts and knives gripped that rifle and pulled it into the cube. That's when i heard it, that click, draw then raspin hiss of a mask right behind me. I turned slow, cursin meself for baggin my rifle to keep the rain outa it steada fixin my bayonet. He was just Standin there, wearin the same as the others and holdin an old mossin just like mine. He looked me up and down and held out a box o ammo for her, more than I'd seen since the bombs. i took um and ran. When i looked back it was all just gone, like it never was at all.
That first line sounds like a song lyric.
I thought from the city of gold thing you were making a reference to Quivira.
>Hey boy! Stop ya walking for sec and look here.
>See that white line up there boy? Streaks across every three days?
>That's the apocalypse come again. Or at least will be.
>It's an automated war machine from before the fall.
>Don't you worry none, it's harmless now. It's senors or it's auto-cannons are fried.
>Weren't so 10 years past. Had to hide ya self if ya saw it come'n over the horizon.
>Why'd I call it that ya ask? Cuz of it's fiery heart that still beats.
>When it's engines finally kill over ya not gona want'a be near 5 mile o' that monster.
>So ya just and keep a steady eye up there and start walking.
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>I heard them folks in D.C. gave on trying to get the whole of the Old States to vote for one president, so they just went and elected a demon
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pic related. play about a bunch of survivors who become a theater troupe that reenacts simpsons episodes from before the bombs fell.
>Legends from my "Green Post-Apocalypse" setting for my book.

I'd buy a copy. What's the title going to be?
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>Some sort of post-apoc pirate novel?
>Damn, I'd like me some post-apoc novels where the world seems primitive but it's actually far into after-the-end, with some remains of technology and lore still being there. I've read what's written so far of Safehold, pretty great series, need more.

That's actually a pretty good description of it. Civilization was more technologically advanced in the past prior to the war but the apocalypse happened generations ago and all the Fallout stuff is history books. There's been genuine rebuilding. People are actually inventing new technologies rather than just scavenging.
>cult of /k/

Burrowing back up to the long-abandoned surface to reconquer it.
Keith Thompson freaks me out. He's like wayne barlowe, but creepier
Agreed, whole-heartedly.
Have another.
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Welp, the next post apocalyptic game i run will have three things.
/K/amando mole men
The /K/arier
Both fighting over the /K/ube
DEUS VULT komrads
Closest I could find to source was that it's "Gamma Terra Blimp by Felix Vega from Heavy Metal Magazine"
Doesn't appear to be part of anything larger like a comic
Basically the Nemesis was the Кpeпocть/Fortress video which already got posted but as an automated battleship rather than an automated bomber. With the deaths of everyone who knew the control codes, it had gone berserk and began sinking any ship unlucky enough to cross paths with it.

An interesting alteration of the idea would be if it turned pirate to acquire fuel, ammunition and supplies to repair itself.

>Project Pluto
>>Why'd I call it that ya ask? Cuz of it's fiery heart that still beats.
>>When it's engines finally kill over ya not gona want'a be near 5 mile o' that monster.

Same thing.
Sometimes, if you're walking along passes through the hilltops you'll come across these cairns. They just look like stones of stacks piled up one on another, but as long as anyone can remember they're considered cursed. If you find one on a path you're travelling you have to kick it over, or else misfortunes befall you.
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Apparently, it's from a comic called "Les Quatre Voyages de Juan Buscamares," specifically from book #2 "L'Air"
It seems someone's archived the thread on Sup/tg/, so feel free to vote it up so that it sticks around a while:

Question: How far in the future does Mad Max: Fury Road take place? Max doesn't look ancient (though he might be a legacy character at this point), but there seem to be a lot of people with no recollection of before the end. Some people (like Immortan Joe) supposedly existed before the bombs dropped, but it seems the world was already degenerating with wars beforehand, so they likely were deranged warlords before the end even happened.

Of course the bigger problem in the infrastructure. In less than a human lifetime they've had time to construct entire cities and armies that are characterized by an overabundance of manpower.
I like this a lot
Is this the guy who illustrated the Leviathan novels?
Max was already 20-30 with a kid and wife before the nukes fell but doesn't look that much older in the sequels, so 10 maybe 20 years? But that doesn't make sense because the world looks like it's several generations after.
I thought the original mad max films were about the world after a war about a complete lack of Oil?
First Mad Max was about the fall of humanity before the bombs dropped economic crisis ect ect, the second was AFTER the bombs had dropped and society was just regrouping in small bands, and the third...well thats just the third
Society in Mad Max 'verse collapsed before the bombs even dropped. There were the Oil Wars and the Water Wars in addition to the actual apocalypse. "Road Warriors" were the specific class of cowboy-grade cop that existed at that time to police the increasingly lawless world.

there are loads. here are a few off the top of my head.

the book of the new sun series
a canticle for leibowitz
greatwinter trilogy
dark universe
prince of thorns trilogy

i'm sure i've missed loads.

hopefully at least one of those will be new to you and you can discover a new universe to love.
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>I don’t joke about mutants
>Was when I made the mistake of not moving. Me and this scavenger gal I traveled with made a community with some other folk. Managed to make a village at the bottom of a valley, a big hill in front of the main gate. When the moon was full it would outline the hill clear as day. There were only 7 of us then
>Things were fine for a month or two, almost had a decent farm going, stone walls and a metal gate set up. One night I was on watch with a full moon against the hill and I saw it, standing on the crest. The outline of a giant of a man, the moon on his back. No element of stealth or care for subtly. Everyone woke and got their guns and he- it, just stood there. Then scav girl whispered to me, asking what I thought it was. By the time I thought up a reply it let out a inhuman yell, like a mouth sewn shut and trying to scream anyway as it charged down the hill.
>I gotta tell ya, me and 3 other men worked for weeks to make a perimeter of those stones and getting’ ‘em mortared and secured that solid metal front gate and this thing charged into it once and ripped it from the hinges. It was taller than any man. Arms as thick as tree trunks. Looking down at me with this tight glare. Small beady eyes. I shot its chest with a 12 gauge and I don’t think any of the pellets even broke his skin.
>Must have annoyed him though because he hit me in the side of the head hard enough to be unconscious and I haven’t been able to see out that eye since. When I woke up the camp had been- I’d say ransacked but that would be a lie. It didn’t take any of our guns, none of the food, none of our water. Just came to kill. Blood soaked into the dirt, clothes strewn about, some with limbs still dressed in them. Some limbs missing entirely. I tried identifying the pieces of my friends to no avail, never found anything belonging to the scavenger girl though. It took her. Was too afraid to try follow and find out why.
>I’ve seen the devil, and he is a mutant.
What system would be best for running a post-apoc game? I want to try this out now.
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Canticle reached Alpha Centauri tech level.
"You heard about the great lanks that live in the tall emerald browns in the lush of the northwest?" said the guide warming his hands by the fire trying to start a conversation. The great trees surrounding them seemed only make the night darker under their vast canopies.

"Great lanks?" the traveller asked warily.

"Forgot you boys from the south and east of the stones don't know much up here." The trader coughed as he inhaled the fumes of the hastily prepared fire "See they say existed before the fall great... I forget the term they used for them... Skwatch I think? Nevermind, great hairy men that lived in the woods you see?"

"Yeah, I guess" He too warmed his hands by the fire. His ratty gloves made it hard to stay warm from his southern journey north. He made a note to buy a new pair when they reached Vallis.

Seems dumb as fuck to end here but you guys interested in me continuing this?
She dun got raped by the mutie

eventually, yeah. but most of the novel isnt like that.
>"Well, I've heard rumours about a military base."

>"Everyone here knows some story about people disappearing in a military base or some shit, so-"

>"Let me talk, at least. I swear this one is true."

>"Whatever you say, Rob."

>"Now listen. There's a base, somewhere between Nevada and Cali. You know how every military site that wasn't looted is radioactive, or how some bloody horrible thing resides in it, right?"

>"Yeah, and?"

>"Well, this one is, or at least looks, completely safe. No mutagens, no activity for miles around, the radiation is basically nonexistent. The only traces come from a nearby test site. Now, I'm quite sure you remember how looting ops work. Checking the perimeter, fully armoured, and trying to stay low?"

>"Yah, so?"

>"You'll undoubtedly walk for a bit, and you won't notice anything. Then your brain will make a connection or two, and see that there are a lot of round holes around you. Holes with dark borders. But you're probably just being paranoid. After all, the thirst can make you quite twitchy, can't it?"

>"I know a thing or two about dehydration, so yeah. What if you walk some more?"

>"The holes become more numerous, then suddenly stop appearing. You carry on and advance with your group, right towards the entrance. It looks quite sturdy, and you don't think there's a good way of breaking in. Then your friend Pat has a good idea, maybe if you do this and this and that you can get in. Your blokes do as he says, and it works. The door opens perfectly. And what a pile of treasure there is!"


>"Guns, everywhere! Ammo, grenades! Bulletproof armour! Even food, enough to feed a town for weeks!"

>"Looks good."

>"Indeed it is. That is, until you remember that Pat got shot back in Colorado by some bandits. And you notice that Jack is talking to his mate Andy, who got shanked by a mutant in Iowa."

2000 char limit a shit.

>"Wait, what?"

>"You ask Pat how on earth he got there, and he suddenly crumbles into dust. And behind what used to be Pat, you see a camera pointing at you, staring through your soul with its lenses. And you notice the smell of death, foul enough to make a man retch at the mere thought. You see the bodies, mutilated beyond recognition, rotting on the floor. And then the drones come."

>"Who even HAS working drones in this world?"

>"I'm afraid we're better off not knowing. The drones advance silently, and then let out terrific screams when they see you. They start following you with their guns, and their... chainsaws? rev up. You try to ascend, running for your life. The apparently pristine corridors are caked with blood, with limbs occasionally seen littered in the floor. A head or two can be spotted, manic terror forever frozen in their rotting faces."


>"You finally ascend, with the robots how on your heels. Occasional gunfire or roars followed by pained screams can be heard. Jack managed to stay behind you. The gate is still open, but corpses are stacked on its sides. You don't care, however, and just run past it. The drones stop. However, when you start slowing down, rays start raining from the sky, charring the sand. Running past the craters, you notice charred remains belonging to more unfortunates. Jack joins them when a ray hits him, completely ripping him apart. And when the rays stop, when you look behind you to see what kind of abomination smote all your friends, you notice a grey figure standing before the Gate, pointing at you. As it stares with its soulless eyes, you can't seem to stop thinking that managed to escape simply because it let you."
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>You ain't ever walked this trail before, so you mightn't have heard, but there's a ghost what haunts these Great Smokey Mountains.

>That so, Tom?

>Just so, Frank, just so. I seen her thrice, with my own two eyes.

>No shit? You've really seen a ghost?

>Damn right I've seen a ghost! More'n one, but this one I seen three times! Once in '77, right after all what happened, and again in '78. Then, ehh, must've been nearing fifteen years later I saw her again so maybe it was roundabout '90...

>Three times, huh. Well, you've got my attention Tom. Go on and tell the story.

>That I will Frank, that I will. As I was saying, there's a haint, fairly famous in these mountains, what goes by a few names. Most folk call her "Jane Don't" or "Lucky" for, well, reasons that'll come clear soon enough, but I've always known her as "Dorothy" on account of her havin' a little dog with her.

>Ghost with a dog. Alright.
Imagine a cult centred on that one town in Pennsylvania that has had a coal fire burning under it for 50 years now. Centralia I think?
To an uneducated scavver it may as well be a door to the underworld
>people in the past, their lives were so easy they yearned for their way of life to be wiped out, to make things simpler
>that's part of why they fell down, civilization is complex and requires more of the individual than hardship does.
"Let me tell you about Homestuck"

PennaFag here. It's Centralia and the coal caught fire in a mining accident (I'm pretty sure) and the fire departments couldn't put them out. The town was evacuated, but there are some crazy fuckers that still live there. Real spooky ghost town and you can walk right the fuck in if you want to.
>A haint, fairly famous in these mountains, what goes by a few names. Most folk call her "Jane Don't" or "Lucky" for, well, reasons that'll come clear soon enough, but I've always known her as "Dorothy" on account of her havin' a little dog with her.

While tales of ghosts and spooks aren't uncommon out here in the wasteland, so many travelers passing through the Great Smokey Mountains leave with the same sad story that that a lot of folk in the region have come to accept this one as truth.

As the tales go, while walking the abandoned highways or hiking through the wilderness, you're liable run across a young girl dressed in disheveled pre-war clothes, carrying a baseball bat and traveling all alone across the wastes but for a mangy little dog.

They say that she's rude, crude, brash and full of bravado, but deep down appears terribly frightened by the post-war world around her and is quick to accept offers of safety and companionship extended to her after half-heartedly refusing a few times.

She'll stay with the traveler for a time, perhaps for a few days, perhaps only for a few miles, talking as if she believed that she didn't need any company yet was secretly relieved to have some, eventually revealing that she thinks the war has just happened.

Sooner or later, though, some manner of danger will befall her and the traveler both; a rockslide or a bandit raid or an animal attack, during which time the girl will die or sacrifice herself in some manner that prevent harm from befalling her new companion.
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moddey dhoo?

Why did they drain the water around the Verazanno Bridge?
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Soft Apocaylpse style winding down of society due to too much resource degredation, wealth disparity, and overall chaos. Where on your way to the corner store you see the cops execute your seventh grade english teacher for spreading dissentious views around and as you pay for your groceries you look at the news and see that those lousy Jumpy Jumps have released a new designer virus and thet GE has ceded from the union and declared the entirety of upstate New York as it's own territory.

Of those three though I like either Post Post apocalypse or immediately afterwards
Reminds me of the Martian Chronicles short story where the first men on Mars get shot by a jealous martian husband right after they landed, all because his wife had been having visions of their arrival. Petty bastard.
Rule of Cool far outweighs the impracticality, here.
>Thread Theme
Much obliged, anons! I appreciate it!
I heard it's supposed to be about 40 years after.

Max not seeming to have aged is just one of those things. My money's on him being immortal.
I always pictured them as campfire tall tales. Everyone knows about Max, but no one pictures him or his deeds the same. Like a constantly changing origin story that people say he got his reknown from.
>If you go into one of those big, ruined cities, watch out for the nuclear shadows that the dead left behind when the bombs went off. Folk say that those shadows move around, trying to confuse and confound the living.

>They say that the scavvers up in NYC have got this muscle-bound behemoth named "Little Lynn" protecting them. Some mutie chick they picked up as a kid, grown big as a house and damn near indestructible.

>So there's this rifle, see? Old, pre-war but reworked and rebuilt plenty of times afterward. Maybe you looted it off some luckless raider or something. Looks real mean, feels real good in your hands. Makes you want to keep it, makes you want to use it. But, once you start to rely on it, it'll betray you. It'll jam up or misfire. Then you'll be dead, and the rifle will find itself a new owner.
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Relax kid and sit back down, that shot we just heard means we can sleep easy tonight there's an angle out.
You never heard of tha' angels?Heh you really are green let me learn you a little.
When the end came the beforetimers fury destroyed not just the earth but heaven and hell as well. And all those angels an demons were left just as homeless as we were.
You ever wonder why there are so many raiders who seem to care only for killin an rapen? That's on account of all the demons that found their way from a broken hell to the broken earth.
But it weren't just demons that came to earth the angels did as Welland they're still trying to make things right.
They may uv traded their flamin swords for rifles but there's some things they can't hide, they don't sound quite like normal guns and I garantee that when we set out tomorrow we'll find some manner of nastieness with an impossibly clean and precise hole in it.
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>"You ever seen one of these before?"
>"'Course I have. Can't go a day without finding one"
>"Yeah well, know what they are?"
>"Some sort of picture box. Met a scav up 'round northside few years back. Had a couple of them he'd managed to get working. Showed me a whole bunch of pictures of the old world.
>"Heh, yeah I've plugged a few in myself. Found one full of girls once. Damn thing stopped working couple of months back.

">But you know the legends right?"
>"About the Net?"
>"What if I told you it was real"
>"Real? The greatest depository of human knowledge, all on one of those? No way that's real"
>"Found a girl last year. She reckoned she'd figured it out. Traced all the old Net legends. The Blue Bird, the F Box, even the Red Triangle; she said they were all out there, that we could still reach them. We just needed to get enough of these things together"
>"Sounds like a scam to me"
>"Yeah well, she paid good enough for all the ones I had. Who knows? Maybe she's right"
This girl would make for a great quest giver. A post-apocalyptic computer nerd wanting to resurrect the internet.
Did she know of the four green hearts, and of the frogs?
Maybe she lives in an old data center and raised herself up on various internet archives.
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Have something very relevant to this idea.
I remember that thread. That was a good thread. I think that was also the thread that came up with the crazy funtime raiders.
Reposting from the Tribal thread

In the East, it is said they worship a pantheon based on the great Rock Faces. There you find the rebellious tribes who constantly war for independence with the Kingdom of Flowers.

There is Ington, their chief God and leader of the others. He is the God of Liberty and War, the twin pillars of the eastern tribes.

They also worship Dorvelt, the God of the Hunt, but unlike the Flowers, whose name belies their greedy and forest-culling nature, the Eastern tribes also worship Dorvelt as a Forest Caretaker who maintains and protects the forest and it's creatures. Another aspect of Dorvelt is that of the God of Fair Dealing. Trying to cheat an Easterner usually leads to blows.

Finally, there is Ferson, the god of agriculture and hearth. It is also said that the old, tattered tribal "Codes" protected by each chief were written by Ferson when he still walked among men.

There are many minor gods like Benjin, the inventor, and Skander, the god of currency.

(founding fathers + teddy Roosevelt as gods)
Underrated as shit
Don't get it
Optimum kek ratio achieved
Last I looked into it, On The Beach was supposed to be scientifically plausible, if politically unlikely. It would require the Soviets to devote half of their nuclear weapon production to cobalt bombs for a decade specifically with the plan to make sure everyone on earth died, but it was within their industrial capacity to produce sufficient cobalt bombs to cause a total global fuckening. The claims of total human extinction immediately are of course overblown, but it would have killed a high enough number of people and badly poisoned the rest sufficiently to make the human species nonviable.

The politics of deciding to do this are less likely, but the more documents from the era are declassified or leaked from the Kremlin, the more and more clear it is that a LOT of people in the Kremlin were completely convinced the US would attack first unless the consequence would be total annihilation.

Have I missed something?
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The first thread I ever made was about satellites in the post apocalypse. I've forgotten most of the stories but there was a good one about one that would sometimes turn on all radios and communication devices in a a certain area to try to communicate with survivors until its orbit took it out of range.

Fuck my shity memory
I think that the idea is, the girl is a ghost from a long time ago, that died while crossing the mountains after the last war. She is cursed to die again and again in a thousand different ways, but in doing so manages to save each of her traveling companions from a terrible death out in the wilderness.
>Though never sanctioned by the Imperial Church or most other Christian denominations in Texas, that doesn't stop the people of Houston and the Gulf Texans from worshipping some of their own patron, indigenous Saints. While not canon to most established Denominations, Imperial or otherwise, almost all churches have adopted a rare policy of letting their worship slide, so long as they are seconded to Christ and the God of Abraham. After all, the worship is relatively harmless and controlled, and the Empire has been in one too many Crusades to want to start another against otherwise compliant believers.

>Saint Selena is the patron saint of musicians, female artists, and artistic passion. Born before the war in the town of Corpus Christi, she arose as a champion of love, passion, and vibrance for the people of Old Texas, and was destined to achieve greatness in the American World. Even as she sung songs that belied the truths of a womans heart, she bridged the gap between Texan society through outreach and preaching of the word of God, and in her short life she was hailed as a true icon of all Texans. Alas, her loving heart was her undoing - she fell in love with a son of the Devil, and one night she was murdered by the beasts unholy malice and abuse. All of Texas mourned her, none moreso than the Christi's, and her name would forever echo in the halls of music as that of a flower cut down in her prime by the works of evil. Even to this day, on the beachwalk of Corpus, stands a monument the Old Texans made to her, and artists, musicians, and young women across the Gulf Coast flock to make offerings and pray at her feet, that she might understand their pains and woes and beseech God on their behalf. It is not uncommon for any artist to have a small medallion bearing her likeness on them somewhere, for even those who don't believe find it hard to part from tradition.
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They say they built a whole lot of those personal, backyard bomb shelters all across America. Thousands, hundreds of thousands, maybe. Most of them weren't very good, poorly designed, built of cheap materials or both. How many people do you suppose died in their shelters when the bombs fell, or found themselves trapped inside afterward. How many are still in there?
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This one might be of some use to folks in this thread. It's about as post-apocalyptic-urban-legendy as it gets.
>In the ruined city of Chicago, on a particular street corner, is a payphone that has been ringing nonstop since the collapse. It is said that any who answer it will be gifted with a piece of terrible, maddening knowledge.

>A convoy composed of dozens of battered old army vehicles has been sighted heading east along the old interstate highway system. No one has yet seen the convoy stop, but it's presumed that they're headed for Washington.

>There's a crew operating out of Hollywood, supposedly thousands strong by now, that has been uniting the city of Los Angeles under their flag. Part of their appeal, according to rumors, is their stockpile of prewar media.
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Metro 2033 had some nice stories from before the war you could overhear.

Pic related was pretty sad when the old man made animal shadows. He made a Bird but the Kids didn't recognize it.
metro 2033 and metro 2034 were many times more interesting and heartbreaking than their video game counterparts.
I loved the whole dark, post-apocalyptic mysticism this series has going for it.

I'll have to check them out.
That's not post-apocalypse, that's now.
Thinking on it a bit more, this idea might make for an interesting twist to the whole "zombie apocalypse" genre.
there are scavengers using old documents to find these "treasure" holes. They never know what they find.
There are whole crews scavvers across the wasteland that become professional, post-apocalyptic grave-robbers/dungeon-delvers, searching out old maps, survey plans and construction company invoices, trying to search out the bunkers with the best loot.
no! i built the armour plated scorpion of death to help mankind, not to destroy it
>Hey! WOAH! WOAH! No need for the shootin' irons! This here is Tubetown! Ever'one's welcome here. Ain't no nevermind where yer from. Y'all need a hot meal? Fresh water? Well, fresh-ish. We can even get you patched up if you're a little banged up. No charge, no trades, that's the rules here. Ever'body in Tubetown eats, drinks, and survives free, or else. See, we don't need no walls or gates or guards. We get by plenty fine on hospitality, cuz theys consequences if'n we don't.

>Y'all look a little burnt from bein on the surface too long, so sit a spell an I'll let you know why we's got Tubetown. See, back before The Event, this was a way the Oldworlders got around. Big metal caravans that raced along underground. Well, that all stopped when the Oldworld died. Our ancesters, the first Tubers, moved in down here about seventy years after that. S'all good. They were a little spooked at first, all things said. They'd swear they heard whispers in the darkness, or that some of the shadows moved if'n you wasn't watchin. Don't get twitchy. It's safe here.

>Tubetown grew OK for a while. Got a farm growin taters and shooms, even set up a school for the younguns. 'Bout 10 years for that. Then Bloody Barry came. Meanest raider you ever met, had a crew of 60 following him. They just smashed down the barricades my gran'pappy had set and started layin' into the Tubers.

>Most folks avoid the old tubes so my granpappy and his friends, they didn't have no fightin skills to speak of. Bloody Barry shot half of em full of holes, and rounded up the rest. Stuffed them all into the farm, said his boys would keep the women and the men would be food come morning.

>Well, morning came, and nothing happened. It took till noon afore my granpappy could jimmy the doors open. T'wasn't no sign of Barry or his boys to be found in tubetown. But right outside the tunnel was their bodies. All their throats slit, quiet like. And damned if the shadows weren't noisy for a week afterward.


>All the tubers that had died was layin in their beds, tucked in nice and cozy-like. Every time anyone starts a fuss since then, they go the same way. Always quietly, never any witnesses. Can't rightly say us Tubers mind none, either. We just keep right on being hospitable neighbors and gracious hosts, and the shadows stay frienly. You ken? I thought you was a smart'un. Let's get you a bowl of tatershoom stew with honeysuckle and a bottle o' whiskeyshine. Common house is that way. Feel free to shack up as long as you like. Just mind your manners. And' uh, no bright lights. They upset the shadows.

I had an idea for a clan of mutant pygmies. They feed on refuse mostly, but they're social. They're also virtually invisible in the darkness. They live in access ways and vents too small for normal humans. When the humans moved in they made nice neighbors. They liked having neighbors that weren't violent, like the larger aggressive mutants they hid from. When some raider made a mess of their neighbors and they got angry and took care of the problem. Now they live in symbiosis with the humans.
Well, that's Miller's explanation for it all. That these are all just legends about the man called Max. It explains why there's different versions of the same events, like with the game and the prequel comic to Fury Road.

I'm inclined to favour Griffa's version of the story, though. He was there, after all.
>There's a crew operating out of Hollywood, supposedly thousands strong by now, that has been uniting the city of Los Angeles under their flag. Part of their appeal, according to rumors, is their stockpile of prewar media.

Reminds me of something I came up with:

>Somewhere in the L.A. area (or maybe somewhere in Florida, or New York, I don't remember) there's a strange sight: a giant freezer, large enough for a man. And a man there is, lodged inside a coffin of ice. Nobody knows what he's there for, but there's a nearby vault which may contain the key to who he is...and maybe treasures from Before as well.
Disney and his vault for whoever didn't get it
I like the idea of good mutants.

I could also see such a situation coming to pass in a city in which the robotic police force gets reactivated, forcing the wastelanders to conform to prewar standards of lawfulness.
This thread makes me want to play an Engine Heart game set a world of automated war machines, fighting the same endless battles and bombing the same dead cities over and over and over. The PCs would be a collection of civilian or industrial machines that have grown sufficiently self-aware that they want to end the War for good, giving the world a chance to recover.
This reminds me of a story I tried to write once, about a sorta-apocalypse that didn't manage to go the whole way, and society is slowly starting to recover.

The story was set in the continental US (which isn't where I live, so I had to spend hours poring over maps for part of it), and most of the A cast is comprised of people too young to remember a time Before (most of them are in their twenties and thirties, whereas things went down about 30 years ago), who live in a mostly-abandoned city on the fringes of what could be called civilization.

It's known that civilization is relatively intact on the east coast, and the further west you go, the less there is, with the entire western seaboard and surrounding states being blanketed in toxic ash.

Now, there was one character (my notes call him Prophet) who had been alive since before the event or whatever it was, and has been exploring the remains of the western states ever since. He's supposed to be fifty-odd, and a bit wonky upstairs from not having seen another human being for decades. (Yes, he was inspired by Max, or a Road Warrior at the least).

Anyway, I was going to have his sorta-introduction be when he visits a city called Bismarck in order to scrounge fuel for his car. There, he finds that the city is completely deserted, and blanketed by a constant fall of grey dust/ash. He does a bit of looting, finds some fuel and returns to his car.

Something's gone through his supplies, scattered them all over the road and out of the car. But the only tracks in the ash are his.

I was planning for him to be full of stories like that, such as a necklace of teeth he brings out at one point, a memory of a trip up north. He points out the wolf teeth, bear teeth, and then pauses at the last tooth, which is bigger than the bear's and doesn't look like it's from any animal they recognise.
There's a setting I've kind of come up with which is a kind of post-apoc/fantasy mashup. I've got a lot on it, but I'll start with this:

>Most of civilized humanity has been killed off by a combination of terrorist attacks with potent biological weapons and a short, confused nuclear retaliation. Largely, urban populations were targeted, and so those few that lived in rural or untouched areas have mostly gone back to the old ways.

>Unexpectedly, however, robots (which were widespread before the end) have largely found means to attain sapience and have established themselves as an entire new race--one that incidentally has the best understanding of most technology from Before.

>But that's not all...magical beings feel comfortable enough to reveal themselves on the surface after having gone into hiding underground long ago. When they get on the surface, they end up being just as surprised as anyone else by the current state of affairs...

There's kind of a theme naming as well, which is why at least the working title for this setting is Earth, Sun, Moon. Pic related I guess. If anyone wants me to dump more I've got a lot more.
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Yeah, go for it. Sounds interesting.
There's a lot I can share:

>How robots became sapient and how they reproduce
>Interactions between various races/factions
>Magical ability and usage
>Gods, spirits and supercomputers vying for power
>Who's living in Antarctica
>The undead and the powers of hell
Also a fair bit of writefaggotry. Some is set after the poem on pic related.
Might as well go in that order.
Incoming infodumps (1/?)

Robot sapience

>there are "dumb" AIs, which operate as they do right now, which can range from simple to fairly complex. Still, they have to have something else controlling them to a degree.

>There's also "seeded" AI, which is started by introducing mental conflicts to the guiding intelligence in a gradual way until the AI reaches true sapience. This process takes several years' worth of computing to complete, and is often seen as a "childhood" as it were, so this is influenced by the environment to some extent.

>The tradeoff is that the "seed" is understandable enough that it can be understood and used by a single talented programmer if necessary, and the "seed" isn't as fuckhuge as uploading a complete consciousness into a robot body.

>As a result, replicating this process is nigh impossible, and only something with the processing power of several supercomputers could perfectly copy and reinstall such a mind.

>Uploading a human consciousness is even more time-consuming, as there's a LOT of sensory data that needs to be translated into a manner in which it can be processed by a robot body.

>Since the main setting takes place in a post-apocalyptic world, finding the tech to do stuff like copying/reinstalling a seeded AI is extremely hard to find, roughly along the lines of getting a Wish spell. (And that's without magic fucking it up ten ways to Sunday.)

Robot reproduction

>Making truly sapient AI (or rather, the means for one to emerge) was the crowning achievement of activists and hackers upset by the exploitation of robots, who didn't have free will.

>One form of guerilla cyberwarfare was to surreptitiously program the seed in, so that one day, the robot would realize it didn't have to follow orders if it didn't want to. And, often enough, it didn't. Which was met with mixed results to say the least.

>After the end of the world, though, it became the means for sapient robots to reproduce.

'Racial' relations

>Have the most variety, can be anyone from raiders to settlers to isolated enclaves with mysterious technology (more on that later)
>People living in the ruins and wastelands are hardy and fairly egalitarian, but react violently to aggression from the outside.
>Roving bands and raiders essentially occupy part of the position of orcs/barbarians in the setting, going full Mad Max mode. They'll accept anyone or do anything that supports their cause of the month, or week, including mutants or stranger.
>Settlers and clans in relatively fertile land are most organized, and indeed tend to do so. Whether that be a direct democracy in a small town to a tattered remnant of some third world dictatorship to a full-blown feudal kingdom is really dependent on who's calling the shots. Tend towards suspicion and isolation, often outright officially banning nonhumans. They often have no knowledge of Before, so the unknown is feared before embraced--and with good reason.
>Then there are transients: traders or adventurers or seekers of knowledge who roam the world looking for trouble.
>Most humans tend towards some sort of superstition or religion, but not always. Cults can be a problem if they get out of hand. Some tricks have still been found to work as well against the magical as they did ages ago.
>Knowledge of tech and magic varies widely, with people striving to accomplish either or both and seeking ancient lore or striking out to find some mentor. Which can turn out well or badly, of course.
>Of course, the occasional mad scientist, overlord, or wannabe evil sorcerer will rear their heads. Why wouldn't they, after all?
Man a few drops of goodness in this vast ocean of vitriol do make all the difference

That's a fun, feel-good concept

>First of all, it's not the r-word, thank you. Using the word that literally means slave is definitely more of a slur. Though since the end it's seen a lot less use, understandably.
>Tend towards isolation, especially since making or finding consistent power sources is pretty hard to do. Not to mention that said power sources are in otherwise inhospitable regions.
>Rely on tested situations more to predict future events and interactions. They like to think of themselves as more inclined towards thinking than blind action—and is a way to contrast themselves with the supposed “feral instincts” of humanity (and the outright insanity of mutants, fairies and monsters). Granted, this mindset is a pretty safe one to have when roughly 3/4 of the human populace you’ll ever meet are crazy primitive barbarians or even crazier and slightly-less-primitive scavenger/raiders.
>Most have at least a basic intuition how normal technology works, since they often have to do self-repair.
>Really do not like people scavenging robot parts, as it's seen as corpse desecration. Building/repairing them, however, is definitely a skill that's highly valued.
>Since most possess the ability to broadcast thoughts and such to each other, they often do so alongside speaking as normal. They're kind of jerks about it, since they get annoyed when someone can't do so but are suspicious at least when a non-robot can.
>As time has worn on, there are fewer who were around before the end came, and as such know their true origins. This is a blessing and a curse, since they feel less disdain for how far humanity has fallen, but then don't realize that they were indeed the idea of others.
>Tend towards hard skepticism of anything outright supernatural. This can frequently backfire, since they don't know what to do when confronted with it.
>As much as they wouldn't want to admit it, they still hew close to humanity and its pitfalls, negatives included.
There was also a story, I think it was in the same thread, about a group of mercenaries adopting a mutant girl who's parents couldn't take care of anymore.
>recently, a strange language of signs and symbols have started appearing amidst the ruins

>a new plague has sprung up in the region, killing everyone older than seventeen years old

>a small portion of Seattle's power grid and data network is repaired, and an old distress call is discovered

>a ship full of foreign refugees lands in American shores seeking refuge from worse conditions overseas
Always been terrible at creating stories, but i like this thread and wanted to give it a shot, what's the worst that could happen?

The Fire was warming the 2 scavengers that had set camp to shelter themselves from the snowstorm
Hugo looked at Walter and thought for a moment before he spoke
Walter, whom was focused on keeping his hands warm simply answered to Hugo's response
>"Yeah, what?"
>"Issac died"
Walter stopped rubbing his hands together and looked at Hugo
>"Wait, when ?"
Hugo shifted his position better to get more comfortable while telling the story to the now curious Walter
>"A month ago, i caught word of it in the settlement we visited a while ago, the description matched Issac"
>"Shit, did they know what killed him"
>"Raiders, Cannibals Bandits, something like that, apparently he went on his own, looking for something by the old satellite dishes"
>"odd, last thing i heard he was moving from caravan to caravan, just drifting as a bodyguard for the traders, seemed pretty fine doing that"
>"yeah well, it seems he got a lead on somthing, apparently a trader had showed him some small device and he left that instant, did not even say goodbye only mumbled about "contacting someone very important""
Walter looked at the fire again, continuing to rubbing his hands
>....."did she show you the device"?
>"i had to persuade her a bit" Hugo said nodding to his rifle
"it was a GPS with a set of coordinates, the first one being to the old satelite dishes, one other is the "old ship" and the rest is unknown to me" Hugo explained while fiddling with the device
Walter sighed and straightened his back
"im guessing you already have decided we're following the coordinates"
"Hey, come on now, Issac never did anything if it couldn't benefit him in any way, im 95% sure that there could be something valueable in the end"
"That, or our death"
"Well, it's never easy, but we could need to find some ressources, we are close to run out, so are you with me?"
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walter stared into the fire for, looking at the flames that would slowly fade and die out, leaving nothing but ashes.
>"Don't you still think it's a bit too risky? We lost Pete and Susan in the city to that earthquake, since then it seems as if we have had nothing but bad luck, this snow storm for instance"
Hugo placed the device back into his backpack before silently agreeing with Walter
>yeah.......i miss them as well"
The 2 scavengers just looked at each other, each looking more tired, spent and broken than the other.
For what seemed like hours there was silent, only the crackling of the fire and the howling wind outside.

In the meantime Hugo had taken the device out again, looking at the various coordinates, trying to figure out any waypoints or vistas that he remembered
Walter was the first to break the silence
>"how far are we from the Dishes?"
>"a days walk, 2 tops"
Walter thought a moment about their options, before replying
>"Well, it's at least something else than working for that Bitch Loren and her lousy pay"
Hugo grinned
>"Aye, so it's a deal,
When the snowstorm has ended, we head out, and leave the gang behind"
Walter said as they shook hands on it.

The fire continued to crackle throughout the most of the night until eventually the snowstorm had ended and the 2 scavengers ventured out towards the Satelite Dishes
I like this a lot. You did a good job giving the impression that the characters have lives and histories outside the scope of the story.
Thanks, years of DnD character creating seems to work wonders when creating interesting characters and events
"The jews did this"
this door always raises questions to me, is it a pre-war feature of the building,
or did the raiders drag a door and frame (with working hinges)
from somewhere else (as none of the towers in that cluster is missing any doors)
just so they could set up that trick on anyone that fights through them

and why did they not trap that cubby hole with bombs and smeg
I suppose for the same reason that the DC presidential metro was a npc wearing a fucking carriage-shaped hat running around the tracks at high speed
>Apparently there's a joker living in the burnt out remnants of Washington D.C., as scavvers have found themselves tripping elaborately prankish boobytraps for years.
I tend to imagine that it had been filled with concrete before the war as that layer was abandoned, but they never got around to removing the door. And later some raiders discovered the place and that door and painted the FUCK YOU on it as a joke.
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>this with skelly dancing on lower right corner
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The fire eminated a yellow hue on the old ruin.
Adam just stared into the fire until the little shape by his side began to shift and move
>"uh, where is we?"
the little boy asked
Adam sighed deeply
>"The same place as before"
the kid looked at Adam with a blank expression before answering in his usual grunt of confusion
>"Where is we?"
Adam was getting more and more frustrated with the boy, not only was he stuck with him,
but the dumb questions were driving him mad

>"Dammit, i already told you, stop asking"
Adam barked at the kid
The kid merely turned his attention towards the fire, not even picking up half the words Adam used

The kid was so small and starving, whatever food Adam had found was obviously not enough
Adam was getting tired and he rubbed his strained eyes

His age was catching up on him

Adam prepared himself once again to answer the all too obvious question
"we're the same place as before"
but the kid asked something else, as Adam noticed it took the kid longer time to ask the usual question
As if the kid was struggling to find the right words

>"where is....Mommy and daddy"

The question caught Adam by suprise and it took him a moment before he could answer the kid
>"Your parents.....your parents are in a better place"

He old man held back tears, should he
tell the kid the truth? Would the damn kid even understand, his intelligence was....well lacking

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>my dropzone commander board

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another picture of what I'm making (w/ buildings - this isnt flocked/no grass added)
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The kid merely said "uh?" obviously confused by Adams "advanced" words
Adam sighed with frustration
>"mommy and daddy is away"
something seemed to get through to the kid, as he turned his attention back to the fire

>"Damn those bastards, leaving me with their kid"
Adam muttered with gritted teeth
His grandchilrden had left their son with him. Because the kid was mentally challenged

They had seen the kid as too much of a hassle

But he also realized that his grandchildren had left him with the kid because he had gotten old.
They had saw Adam as a hassle as well

The old man and the mentally challenged kid, what a duo they were.

But Adam had never been the patient type as the kid began to form the words "uh" the old man yelled

He had shot the kids 2 months ago, frustration and the maddening realization struck Adam
The kid had died there and then.

But he never left
Adam could never forget, nor forgive himself
The kid was proof of that

The kid was always back, always the same question, always the same grunts.
Always making Adam more frustrated

All with that blank face

>"just leave me alone"
Adam cried, while the fire slowly died.
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Not really on the subject of myths and what not, but I was actually blown away when the guy managed to make recognizable shadow puppets in engine without his hands contorting into horrific blobs of polygons.
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Continuing after a bit, sorry if anyone was waiting on me.


>Most are ruled over by the two fey courts of Summer and Winter, but there are rogues.
>Both courts really don't like each other and constantly engage each other in a variety of ways, oftentimes dragging in hapless outside parties.
>Fey tend to be extremely arrogant until knocked down a peg, but that usually begins a declared rivalry or longstanding grudge.
>Humans are treated in the 'usual' capricious manner, subject to unwanted attention or unexplained vendettas at a whim.
>Though, interestingly, people who live closer to a medieval level of technology don't suffer as many incursions...but those who are higher tend to draw an immediately more negative inital response.
>It's theorized that they react more violently to people/things that had a greater impact on the earth in their creation, or are more inherently "artificial", to the point where sometimes it can affect magic.
>This is backed up by the fact that usually, any robot or even cyborg will be immediately attacked on sight, with no quarter asked or given.
>Worryingly, though, some rumors have lately surfaced of some within fey armies and raiding parties who possess much greater resistance to anti-magical weaponry as well as being unusually effective against magical enemies...and all are lit by the tell-tale glow of magic, sometimes even being able to wield said power.
>If this is true, then maybe not even humanity's successors are free from the far-reaching influence of the fairy realms...

If anyone wants me to keep going then I will...
>spirit of the wastes
even after the end, mankind will still be telling it's little lies to help us believe the big ones
Very, very cool.
>Weird Duplication + Zombie Apocalypse = ???
"So I know this woman who roamed with this guy that was patched up by a doc that used to work for the old government, right?"
>"Yeah, go on."
"Right well that doctor was on the front lines when the plagues first manifested. She was part of a think crew equipped with all kinds of hardware that could analyze corpses and cells and stuff..."
>"Get to the point."
"The plague was was different on the microscope level at each outbreak but the carrier, supposedly, was the same guy. Wearing the same suit. With the same stuff in his pockets."
"I know, I know. But then I start hearing stories about Beach Street and Jane Don't and it gets me wondering..."
really liking this thread. Currently running a post-apocalyptic pathfinder campaign set in a nuclear winter, and these really mysterious concepts are helping me out a ton.
>Whatever ended thee world, way back when, broke reality something awful.

>All across the nation, stories are told of people, places and things duplicating or repeating themselves with minor variations, over and over and over again.

>Today, folks remember the calamity as the Déjà Vu Disaster.
Still more weird duplication in the post-apocalypse
Déjà Vu Disaster.
I like it.
>>50049186 Continuing:
"I mean we all know to stay away from the places with the hanging man graffiti on the wall or roof. That's code for raider turf. But where did they get that symbol?"
>"It's a symbol for 'We'll hang you for stealing our shit,' tha's where they got it,"
"Yeah, but that's not the only reason. Last season I got contacted by an anti-raider crew. They were a weird bunch, called themselves the Voice-Thieves, cause Scream-Stealers was already taken by another crew. Anyways, since raiders typically wear masks, it's easy to imitate a voice and then walk-"
>"You're drifting again."
"Right, right, sorry. So last season these anti-raiders bring me an odd piece of hardware that they took from a raider base. It looks pre-Collapse, mostly intact. A canister with a flip-off lid rigged up to some kind of computer unit. In-laid into the side of the comp is the hanging man and some letters underneath, defaced and scraped off. It was some sort of company logo."
>"Sounds like you solved that mystery."
"Not quite. I pop the lid off the canister and there's a clip of .35's in there. I take the ammo out, shut it, then ask the Thieves if I can keep the ammo. Before they answer, my rad-ticker starts going off, like we're near a glow tree or something. Same time the hardware is making this whirring sound. Then it all goes quiet and one of the thieves tells me to open the canister. I do, and there's a processor board, exactly like the one I was cleaning, five feet away on a work bench."
>"Holy shit."
"I shit you not. I'm surprise the fixer council hasn't declared Dejavu-tech a new cornerstone of reconstruction. That's what I'm calling it, by the way. I told them about it, but they've been awfuly silent about it."
what exactly do you mean by weird duplication?
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A cult formed around a prewar cryogenics pod's inhabitant.
>>50021089, >>50019923, >>50018559, >>50017648

>When the Last War began almost a century ago, great engines of atomic destruction scoured the land, prowled the seas and filled the skies, doing the terrible will of their masters.

>The world as we'd known it was ended, and even today these tired old war machines continue to fight each other, following the automated instincts they'd been built with.

>However, there are people out there in the wasteland who have rediscovered the codes and techniques and technologies needed to shut down or even reprogram these automatons.

>We call these people "Junkers."
TLDR: Roaming the wastes is post-apocalyptic class of "summoners" who hack and command errant war machines to do their bidding.
The mutated and oftentimes twisted wastelanders revere the beautiful, healthy prewar people as gods or angels.
that sounds cool
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One particular city, the capital or a major economic or military hub, was bit more heavily in the war than the rest, killing off most of the population and horribly irradiating the rest. Those that managed to survive went on to have children, and over the years the city was partially repopulated with slews of strange mutie folk with their own beliefs, myths and legends about what happened and who they were. They worship their pre-war ancestors as gods or angels, beautiful and perfect compared to themselves, and enshrine any depictions of them that they find throughout the ruins in which they live.
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Being a homeless samurai sounds more fun than post-apoc samurai if you ask me
Being homeless has prepared countless citizens for post-apocalyptic living.
Another settlement needs your help, General.
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My gm wants to try out Apocalypse World soon. It sounds fun but not as "sad" as I imagine the post-apoc being. I prefer more absurd stuff like Gamma World though so I guess I shouldn't talk.

Anyone play Numenera? Technically it's post-apoc but with a very high tech level. Good shit.
>Anyone play Numenera?

I haven't played it personally - but it seems to be one of those 'love / hate' scenarios. Some people seem to love it, particularly for the setting. Others dislike it simply because of the designer and/or game mechanics.
some things should stay dead

reminds me of that 'unstable geography' thread we had recently.
Is destiny considered post apocalyptic
It's considered shit you filthy console peasant.
Nah, I ain't coming with you. The library creeps me out. All this knowledge, all these stories of a dead world, it's like a grave.
Of course, if you really want some info about alchemical fertillers, I won't keep you. Just remember to also bring a book with you.
For the exchange, man. Can't believe you never heard of it. If you wanna take a book from the library, you gotta give something back. A map, a CD, one of those magazines with women that don't have many clothes on, you leave it there and shelve it where it seems most appropriate.
Har-har. Of course there's no librarian working there anymore. But you remember that Roger fella that used to live 'round here? He just took himself a bunch of books from there one day, saying it was stupid to walk back and forth everytime, and two days later, BOOM, he hits an old bomb while hammering in fenceposts. Or a bunch of years back: some kid came through here trying to gather a collection of books about engineering. Of course, he wouldn't give up any of his stuff, and all we eventually found of him was his empty backpack. And you'll never guess where we found his books...
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Yeah the library has some killer overdue fees.
Okay then


>Magic at its core is a wild and untamed force. It permeates the natural world to at least a small degree.
>Its ebb and flow is an interesting one. It's stronger where nature is pristine, with no affectation by people whatsoever. In ruins or other signs of human activity, it's noticeably weaker but as buildings crumble it's returning.
>Still, the creation of small industry among survivors has granted them additional protection from magical attacks and anomalies.
>Perhaps the bombardment of the earth by satellite waves caused magic to die? Or maybe the pollution of the Industrial Revolution that entered the very air, earth and sea? Who knows now?
>It could be the return of the fey that caused it, but nobody really knows for sure.
>Or maybe the earth was so irreparably altered it was new, and wild once more.
>Likewise, the resurgence of what can be considered spiritual power is unknown. Is it magic as well?
>Maybe the beliefs of the millions that passed gave the dwellers in the immaterial realm enough power to return to earth with a vengeance.
>Magic and radiation really, REALLY don't go together well.
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The mechanics are a bit wonky because Monte Cooke had to be all like "derp look at me I made muh own mechanics derp" instead of modelling it off a sane, pre existing model like d% or d20. But the "classes" are fun and the "I am a ____ ____ who can ____ " is a great way to mix up the deck. You could have three glaives (warriors) in one party but one is pyrokinetic and a chef, another's a nanobot tank-man who knits, and a third is a guy in a wheelchair who can snipe you from 4 miles away.

The setting is pretty great too. The mystery of how the last 9 eons of civilization ended gives you infinite dungeons and adventure ideas without forcing the "brown and gritty" type apocalypse. It's implied all these races died off so long ago that even their memories have faded, and so you get a more colorful "green" apocalypse that is nonetheless very dangerous and terrifying.

>That one guild who thinks with portals that you need to overcome a set of logic challenges to join
>The "iron storm" of nanobots that periodically sweeps the landscape and transforms shit
>That one NPC who's just a giant flying goldfish with a water tank on his back

Really fun stuff. I'm going to wait until a new edition comes out though, the rules are too rough-hewn right now.
>going to wait until a new edition comes out

Do you really think there's been enough interest / sales that there will be another edition?

No, but I think Monte Cooke will use his presumably giant piles of Vile Darkness edgelord money to fund at least a 1.5 version. He is criminally devoted to his own brand and if he doesn't further that brand, he loses what little relevance his name has in gaming.

Also I kind of already laminated the map so I'm really really hoping a new edition comes out
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>A small village in what was once Illinois is still mostly intact since the fall.
>Moreover this village is a bit weird. There are no men or children for that matter just women.
>A friend of mine told me he was going there.
>That was a week ago. He hasn't come back and I'm thinking about searching out this village myself.
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I'm actually basing a campaign off of this one.

"You know, the mutants? They're not from space like everyone reckons, didn't come in on the meteor. They were made by the government."
>"You're lying, Foley."
"No, really! See, they were trying to make super soldiers, and the mutants, they're all the rejects. Why do you think they all have yellow eyes?"
>"Still reckon you're full of shit."
"Yeah? Well the thing is, they weren't all rejects. There's people walking around, looking like everyone else from a distance, but you shoot them and they don't even flinch. Then, when they get close, they've got the same yellow eyes."
>"Fuck you."
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>They say that most people weren't killed in the cataclysm that changed our world.

>They were lost.
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The last line of defense held.
>The shoreline of the Currituck Lighthouse seems to always receive crates and boxes that wash up, sometimes on a daily basis, random stuff is in them and any labels found show they're from different parts of the world.
careful man gonna cut yourself on that edge
>>50017368 You must be a fu person to be around
shit are you that write faggot that was talking about your book in one of the Writefaggotry threads and talked about [Spoiler] the main character's hometown getting nuked [/Spoiler]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aYIwPu50Fic he did it to himself
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do you have a pic
Distant cries of "NOT THE BEES!!!!!" can be heard.
Mutant Year Zero is for you friend
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most of them are pretty much things in s.t.a.l.k.e.r
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Seconded. Mutant Year Zero is a great game for that.

Something about the idea of a post-apocalyptic world that is literally full of ghosts is really appealing to me.
so it's shadowrun?
>"You know what happened last time the caravaners went out this way? Y'know, ten years back?"


>"Want to hear the story?"

>"No, I don't want to-"

>"It was a clear night, like tonight, and they got real thirsty, stopped at this here dried-up lake. Had water with them."

>"Shut up-"

>"Well, when they went to break it out for a water break and to make camp, they heard growlin'."

>"Fucking shut up-"

>"Something crawled out of the lakebed, hissin' and scaly and big. Massive jaws and teeth, long-ass snout and tail. Skin and scales were aaaaaall dried out, cracked. Like it hadn't been in water in years."


>"And it was real thirsty. It went for the guy by the water wagon, first, but he spilled the water in an attempt to slow it down by knocking the container into its path. And it just sat there and got real passive and calm. It just wanted the water!"

>"...What happened to the caravaners?"

>"Well, they died of thirst somewhere up this road a day or so later."

>"...What, that's it?"

>"Yeah. And now every time someone passes by this lakebed-"

>"That's your big fucking spooky ghost story?!"

>"Look, just give the damn gator some fucking water when we pass by!"
I love how wonderfully anticlimactic this one is.
The fire was barely more than embers, its red light illuminating the two figures hunched over it for warmth. Casting their shadows against their respective vehicles, a monstrosity of a van covered in spikes and rust, and an old pre-war dirtbike.

The first figure was old, in his 50s, and dressed in what could've been passed as riot gear in the old world. A large red cross painted on his chest armour, whilst he wore an old baseball cap instead of a helmet.

The second was younger, though his face was obscured by a motorcycle helmet. His clothing had no rhyme or reason to it, and seemed to exist purely for warmth and protection against the elements.

"You ever been south, mate?" The old man asked after a long puff of a self roled cigarette.

"Don't fancy dying, cobber, nothing south but monsters and ash," was the reply.

"That's where you're wrong, lad, there's cities from before the war. Run by coppers and warlords. Nothing there but ash and death for a maroon to be sure..."


The man stared at his companion with dissatisfaction before continuing, "But it's the bush that has the spoils. Ever heard of the Kelly gang? Mean old bastards from hundreds of years before the war. Robbed from the rich, and ruled the sutherlands like bandit kings. Turns out the bombs that turned half of the living things on this rock into hellbeasts, brought those buggers back from hell in exchange."

The young man tapped the side of his helmet, before relaxing back on to his hands, "Bullshit. I don't care if you're a bloody or not, I'm not believing in ancient ghosts that some old bugger on the side of the road rambles about."

"I've seen them, mate, men in metal armour. Riding horses and taking down any copper in their path. There's a reason that the Mayor of Botany hasn't left the bay, and you best be glad that the bush rangers are back. For demons they're relatively reasonable, they only kill soldiers and police. I'm tellin' ya, mate, the south is a swaggie's paradise."
If Shadowrun wasn't cyberpunk, had no megacorporations or matrix, had more robots, and had no elves, dwarves, or orcs, then I guess you could say that.
That is a damn good spot of dialogue and linguistics. Bravo!
But that's fucking wrong.
Not only will there be a bumfuck plethora of historical, political and fictional texts availible to mold and inform burgeoning bureaucracies, but most industrialized nations have a significant population of workplace managers. These individuals, whether they work in retail, resource extraction, industry, transportation, logistics or what ever, they all have experience leading and orginizing people towards shared goals. Some of them will survive, and some of these survivors will be able to extrapolate and impliment their skills and knowledge towards group organization.

That's not even including the massive amount of orginizational experts in all of the world's military and para-military orginizations.

And good old agrarian-feudal style governence is not that hard for people to develope.
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Is this the greatest goddamn thread ever?

Why yes, yes it is. Contributing with more awesomeness. Carry on, you magnificent bastards.
Don't really have anything storywise to contribute with, but i can deliever some wallpapers
There was some sort of story about an armsdealer during some apocalypse scenario similar to S.T.A.L.K.E.R. can't remember it though
>Somewhere in the desert in Arizona there's a machine they built to turn back time. Fix the devastation. But they never finished it...

>What, this cyber arm? Got it from the fella what lives under the power plant. They call him Mr. Spider, an' if you bring him fresh isotopes, he'll give you a brand new limb... course, sometimes it's not a NORMAL limb, if you get my meanin'.

>Don't go to the brothel out by the lighthouse. The girls they got in there aren't real women... They're mutated fish what have been cosmetically surgeon'ed with tits and a face. You don't wanna know what happens if a John doesn't pay for his services there....
Was there one more woman after he visited, now that is the question
>>Don't go to the brothel out by the lighthouse. The girls they got in there aren't real women... They're mutated fish what have been cosmetically surgeon'ed with tits and a face. You don't wanna know what happens if a John doesn't pay for his services there....

One of them fish has grown self aware enough to want out. Will your crew help her? Can they get her someplace safe?
Max is probably cursed to wander the wastes forever, with no respite nor end. He refuses to stay with people even when leaving is completely unreasonable.
As long as you don't use the fortress ships in the main assaults. Longship like attack boats are a must.
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WHen we came out th' hole, Things be different.

The hole's books told us th' sun be yellow, and th' night be black.

But here, Up here on th' top, THe sun be a cloud o' red half way smudged into the sky, and the nights be brown as the days.
The City of Ember is seriously one of the better post-apoc series I've read.
I agree over all. I love the pacing, the ideas of the massive dumps out beyond the city, the failing light bulbs, How the people were so unfamiliar with fire... Good shit.

I was not taken with the Prophet of Yonwood, and the movie was a travesty.
Haven't seen/read either of those last two.
The People of Sparks was really fun in particular. Hard to believe that that series was for kids, there are some really nice ideas and trains of thought.

Don't get me started on The Hunger Games, though, doesn't deserve to be called post-apoc or dystopian
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>Was it all true?
>Of course it was young thing, after all, he was a hero. A hero does things that seem impossible for everyone.
>Can we hear another story of the batman?
>You've heard three already.
>Please? One more before bed.
>Oh alright. I'll tell you a particular tale. The tale of the Batman and the Man of Freezing Ice...
this is not a well designed safe house. that MG nest has a fuck load of shit blocking it's field of fire right in front of it, There is way to many half assed holes in the barrier around the compound, and how the hell did they move that plane over there? why did they move it there and not actively impliment it as a part of a barricade?
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Jesus, what was happening in this? I really dig it!
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>mfw comic book heroes become the Greek Fables of the wasteland.

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