[IC]Ruins of Minerva

Link to the OOC for application

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Refugee Convoy Station | Western District

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It was very unlikely for the city during the day to be so populated, what with the constant shelling by the government and sniper fires taking out anything that moved. However, the makeshift military station at the Western end of the city was brimming with people lined up, waiting for the army personnel to take them away from this hellhole of a city.

Minerva has been under fire for at least 7 months now. The constant artillery fire stripped the city of its glory and turned it into nothing but ruinous hub of fear and danger. The rebels who occupy the city are ruthless towards civilians; seizing what little aid reaches the city and leaving barely anything for the ordinary men to survive in the city. Anyone would want to leave the city, but it isn't easy; very little are allowed out of the city in fear of rebel spies leaking to other cities, and those that try to sneak out of the city at nighttime usually are caught and executed by both the rebels and the military alike. The only choices for those stuck in the city are to survive and scavenge.

"You, you, and you, get in the truck." The military personnel randomly picked a few out of the bustling crowd. The chosen, relieved that they are leaving the city, eagerly went on the truck, while their family and friends, while saddened that they will be separated, cried tears of relief and hope that they will meet again. Still others are infuriated that they are not picked and, as the last refugee convoy drove out into the countryside, turned around and left to their shelter in disgust and despair.

"Damn." Giovanni sighed as he missed the last convoy truck. Watching the refugees huddling together as the truck drove past towards the countryside, he opened his pack of cigarettes to find that there were none. He remembered that he smoked the last one off a week ago. "No more smokes left? The day can't get any worse."

But it could, thought Giovanni. What a silly thing to say.

Refugee Convoy Station | Western District

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"tch... Damn, thought fer sure I'd make this'n." quipped an Irish man in the crowd, "Well... back ta the grind, I guess."

"No more smokes left? This day can't get any worse."

The Irish man's head perked up when he heard the sorrowful groans of an elderly man when he discovered he was out of cigarettes. Lucky for him, he kept a few on his person for trading. Cigarettes were a pretty hot commodity in Minerva these days, considering you couldn't just walk to the store and pick them up anymore. That, and it wasn't like there were any more cigs being shipped into the city. He decided for once he could be generous. He approached the source of the voice to find an Italian 70-something year old man sighing to himself, he stepped up to him and whispered.

"Lookin' fer a fag, ol' timer?" he said quietly, "I can hook ye up if ye come with me. Ye know how crowds get 'round precious commodities 'n' what. I'll even give it free of charge. No worries!"

Refugee Convoy Station | Western District


While many were happy to go to safer places, other people were ok by surviving in this city, many have adapted to it and somehow gotten their ways to enjoy their time there. One of those people was Elizabeth Hawke, or Liz for those who knew her, the mechanic was working on a generator of the convoy station to keep it alive for some more weeks. While the payment would have been ok with whatever money that was used, her payment was of materials, especially electronics since they were some of the rarest for her works.

The redhead got a small payment of some cables and scraps of cellphones and smiled to her client, but internally she would have loved to strangle the man with the cables ("Let´s see how you like it when it fails again") she thought while walking around the station. She looked at the people gathered and sighed knowing that such congregation of people would soon become a perfect target for scavengers and the blood-sheds would begin again.

Taking her tools into her backpack, Liz went to look for a trader for some extra food.

Refugee Convoy Station - Western District

As the last of the convoys left, a male teen with his black hood up was in line and wasn't picked. "Tch." the clicking of his tongue went with a small piece of jerky in his mouth. The male left the line and sat away from everyone else while keeping an eye on the roofs. "I doubt we'll be safe for long. Damn fricken snipers." The male named Zero thought. As he looks around, he sees people talking about things but not really paying much attention to them.

(That's all I can think of at the moment, Sorry that it's kinda short.)

Refugee Convoy Station | Western District

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Giovanni turned around. Offering him a cigarette was a man wearing an orange goggle. His accent suggested him of Irish descent, and his green eyes further approved of Giovanni's hypothesis. His background however, Giovanni couldn't care less about. What grabbed his attention was the fact that this whippersnapper was offering a cigarette for free.

"I'd appreciate it." Giovanni nodded as a faint boom echoed in the distance. The military must be resuming the artillery fire, since however many refugees they could fit in the trucks were well out of the influence. "Better we take shelter soon. Sounds like they're about to bomb the town again."

Refugee Convoy Station | Western District

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The old man agreed to the Irish man's offer just as the shelling started up again. He knew it wouldn't be long before the snipers started getting active, as well. They would need to move now if they wanted to reach safety in time.

"Aye, mate. I got a li'l place just outside the ol' market district. Not too far east from here. It's a wee ways underground, so we won't have to worry 'bout the shelling." The Irish man began to walk to the east as the distant booms continued, "We've plenty of time. By the sound of those blasts, the shells are fallin' a bit south of us. We should hurry though. If we wait too long, the snipers will start takin' potshots at us. Nobody wants that. By the way: Name's Alex! And you?"

Refugee Convoy Station | Western District

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"Giovanni. Nice to meet you, Alex." Giovanni jovially acknowledged Alex. More artillery shots fired in the distance, and the mention of snipers reminded Giovanni of what happened a few weeks ago. It was grisly, and he didn't want to think about it, so he shook his head and got back to the track. "That would be best. Lead the way."

Refugee Convoy Station | Western District


Glad that she had more supplies in terms of health and food, Liz walked around the district prepared to leave the place, the blasts that sounded on the distance were a warning to anyone that something would happen in the area soon, so the redhead moved faster ("Ok, got food, some bandages, my tools, a still unloaded shotgun") she thought and could use the weapon to hit someone with it´s stock ("And.. where are you..) she started feeling her clothes and pants until she found the pipebomb ("The last for the moment") she grinned touching said object on behind her coat.

"Only one more stop and then off to the wilderness" the mechanic mumbled heading to the limits of the station.

Refugee Convoy Station | Western District

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"Alright, then, old-timer! Follow me!" Alex said as he began to walk eastward.

After about half an hour of walking, they reached a small courtyard area, with a staircase leading down into the cellar of a house.

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Western Block | Market District

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"So this is where I've been campin' out since this damned war started. Real solid place. Used to be a wine cellar, but I threw most of it out ta make space" Alex said as he stepped down the stair to the door to the cellar. "Feel free to stick around, if ye like!" Alex began opening the door.

Refugee Convoy Station | Western Station

The faint sound of blasts can be heard and that was Zero's que to leave. "Better get back." He said as he finishes the piece of jerky that was in his mouth and places a toothpick he found the day before in. He starts to walk away to where he's been hiding out.