205
« on: September 30, 2010, 12:08:48 PM »
The world is poisoned. The real settlements are growing food under glass -- scavenged from the suburbs and assembled into greenhouses. And every year, one more crop-type disappears, having succumbed to infection that slipped through the cracks. And the fucking forest; it fights back, I swear! Chokevines. three-foot SqWARels. Flesh-eating locusts. Fuckers, all of 'em. And the wind. When the wind picks up everyone dives for cover, gets inside and wraps their faces. New threats come on the wind that might erase whole regions.
We've seen two basic lifestyles. The reasonable people who live in the ruins; settlements of concrete and wood, using what artifacts of the old world they can scrounge up. They're the ones fighting against the dying past. These people make sense. Sure, some would eat your skin, but you can read them. But there's also the tribes. Those fuckers out in the woods. They actually live with the chokevines and the bugs. They eat the sqWARels and their nuts the size of your head. And they look at you like they haven't had a Halloween Goose in twenty years -- those fuckers don't even know what a Halloween Goose is; no tradition with that sort. And worst of all, sometimes you can trade with them. It's not all kill, kill, kill; but it would be easier if it were, because you never know!