Post by Soldier 76 on Jul 30, 2016 4:33:31 GMT
Walk, walk, walk, keep walking; the sun is hot, the ground is burning, the air is dry and confused. He stops after a long while, looking back there's nothing but mayhem. He collapses, and holds onto the stub where his arm should have been. His legs were falling apart on him, Ansell watched the rest of his world disappear into the rubble. He was so far away from it all now, he took a deep breath. "Why?" he asked. He'd thought quickly on his escape, putting aside emotion and pain to get to safety. Walk, was all he could think now here he was...staring at the end of the world.
At least, that's what it felt like, the end of the world. The meltdown had left him ugly and homeless. He touched the mask, it was filtering the air he shouldn't take it off, but he could see it still in his mind. He could see his destroyed face, the melting flesh, and the pain flashed back to him like a memory. The man pulled his legs up, they hurt so badly. They'd begin to rot, his other arm too, too badly damaged to salvage. These legs had kept him moving though, they had not given up, perhaps they would heal. He didn't know, what about his family? What about his friends?
Why? The reactor had been fine, and then...it wasn't. Meltdown, he gave a primal noise, a scream. "WHY?" He stood up shakily, looking around, all these broken robots. Thrown by the blast, deactivated by the loss of the Omnium. He shook with confused rage, it wasn't their fault. It wasn't, why would they do this to themselves? It couldn't have been Omnics. Wolff moved to the corpses of the fallen machines. He pulled till an arm came off. They didn't need it...he did. How would he? Maybe a quick electric charge, it'd want to connect to something right? Why not his shoulder? He picked out a few other parts, ripping apart the corpses.
He would need to get rid of the legs...not yet, he couldn't oh god. He needed shelter, as he dragged the overfull bag to an alcove, the plateau would serve well as he rested his body down. Night would be cold, he needed a fire. He was so tired, so damned tired. The ache was returning as adrenaline wore away. "Why?" Who could have done this? He closed his eyes. "Mom, Dad? Did...are you..." He cried out and wrapped his arm around his head. He pulled the mask off, running a hand over the damage, monster. How had he even survived that? Ansell closed his eyes. Too tired.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow he could face the end of the world. Right now...he just needed to sleep. Rifle hugged to his chest, he slipped off to sleep.
At least, that's what it felt like, the end of the world. The meltdown had left him ugly and homeless. He touched the mask, it was filtering the air he shouldn't take it off, but he could see it still in his mind. He could see his destroyed face, the melting flesh, and the pain flashed back to him like a memory. The man pulled his legs up, they hurt so badly. They'd begin to rot, his other arm too, too badly damaged to salvage. These legs had kept him moving though, they had not given up, perhaps they would heal. He didn't know, what about his family? What about his friends?
Why? The reactor had been fine, and then...it wasn't. Meltdown, he gave a primal noise, a scream. "WHY?" He stood up shakily, looking around, all these broken robots. Thrown by the blast, deactivated by the loss of the Omnium. He shook with confused rage, it wasn't their fault. It wasn't, why would they do this to themselves? It couldn't have been Omnics. Wolff moved to the corpses of the fallen machines. He pulled till an arm came off. They didn't need it...he did. How would he? Maybe a quick electric charge, it'd want to connect to something right? Why not his shoulder? He picked out a few other parts, ripping apart the corpses.
He would need to get rid of the legs...not yet, he couldn't oh god. He needed shelter, as he dragged the overfull bag to an alcove, the plateau would serve well as he rested his body down. Night would be cold, he needed a fire. He was so tired, so damned tired. The ache was returning as adrenaline wore away. "Why?" Who could have done this? He closed his eyes. "Mom, Dad? Did...are you..." He cried out and wrapped his arm around his head. He pulled the mask off, running a hand over the damage, monster. How had he even survived that? Ansell closed his eyes. Too tired.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow he could face the end of the world. Right now...he just needed to sleep. Rifle hugged to his chest, he slipped off to sleep.
