ProjectMischa
Your friendly neighborhood fangirl.
Survivor's Log: One week after the attack.
The days have dragged on and on for me. It seems like it's been ages since any of us have seen the sunlight, and yet it has only been a mere couple of days. I'm not sure how anyone could expect us to continue with this existence, shunning all we know and accomplished out of pure necessity. We need sunlight. We'll go stir-crazy soon enough if this keeps up. It's tempting to merely walk right out of the shelter entrance. No one would stop me, they'd question my sanity, maybe, but no one would stop me.
And yet...
The screams of those who had been damned to a painful, fiery death still ring in my head whenever I close my eyes. It's a constant reminder of why we're here to begin with. When the dragons attacked, we lost everything. Now our homes are nothing but ashes and smoking ruins. There's nothing we could possibly return to up there, aside from more death. Sometimes I wonder how many of the ashes we see up there belong to our loved ones. The dragons didn't exactly leave much left to bury.
There's talk among the population that the higher-ups are working on a new system, one geared towards humanity's survival. I'm not exactly sure how effective it will be, there's mixed responses from everyone here about it. I guess we'll just have to wait and see. It's not like there's much else we can do about it.
The days have dragged on and on for me. It seems like it's been ages since any of us have seen the sunlight, and yet it has only been a mere couple of days. I'm not sure how anyone could expect us to continue with this existence, shunning all we know and accomplished out of pure necessity. We need sunlight. We'll go stir-crazy soon enough if this keeps up. It's tempting to merely walk right out of the shelter entrance. No one would stop me, they'd question my sanity, maybe, but no one would stop me.
And yet...
The screams of those who had been damned to a painful, fiery death still ring in my head whenever I close my eyes. It's a constant reminder of why we're here to begin with. When the dragons attacked, we lost everything. Now our homes are nothing but ashes and smoking ruins. There's nothing we could possibly return to up there, aside from more death. Sometimes I wonder how many of the ashes we see up there belong to our loved ones. The dragons didn't exactly leave much left to bury.
There's talk among the population that the higher-ups are working on a new system, one geared towards humanity's survival. I'm not exactly sure how effective it will be, there's mixed responses from everyone here about it. I guess we'll just have to wait and see. It's not like there's much else we can do about it.
We're fighting back.
We're amassing what resources we can to finally triumph, to move past this cursed life of ours and finally live under the sun once again without fear of impending doom. It will be a long and bloody fight, but one well worth the effort should we succeed. Perhaps not everyone is totally on board with this idea, but we can all agree on one thing: we can't keep living underground like this. We need to see the sun more often than we actually do. There was so much we had taken for granted that we only wish we could have again. All of our hopes and dreams rest on this success. It's only a matter of time before the dragons decide to take the initiative before we do.
The SceneThe day is a particularly calm one, with clear skies and only faint sounds of the wildlife echoing in the distance. Despite the evident destruction littering the surface, a few living souls are seen scuttling about above, aside from the dragons, that is. The mild heat of the afternoon sun has coaxed out the wildlife around the forests and the few who have been curiously checking out the destroyed city. This is one of those days that provides ample hunting opportunities for those clever enough to take advantage of it. It seems, for the moment, that the world has found a brief repose for once in an incredibly long amount of time. How long this will last is debatable.
Despite the apparent tranquility on the surface, the human life underground was riddled with activity, as usual. There were few days of rest for them, as each living soul had something they had to contribute to the society. The war effort left them incredibly busy, smelting weapons, planning strategies. The calming, clear day above was just another busy day of work for them. Time in the shelter meant time for work, and while not all enjoyed the constant fussing about, few could argue that it didn't help them. All in all it was simply just another day. One day closer to war, one day closer to potential freedom.
This is where our stories begin.
Abyss
Yonsisac
Dak
Whisker
@Nick Ton Cutter
Trappy
Iniquity
Kabboom