Radio Chat RP topic


[quote=“Dr. Howell, post:79, topic:12854”][quote=“Fourty_two, post:78, topic:12854”]This signal seems to be coming from a rather old plane.

Seems to be Morse code, 3 beeps followed by 3 long tones, then 3 more beeps, it repeats”[/quote]
Heavy static.
“Well, [static]. Anybody here that knows [static] code? I repeat, does [static] know Morse code?”[/quote]

Static is heard, until someone…seems to HIT the Ham Radio they are using, then the broadcast starts getting clearer. You hear…normal Engine noises? That’s different.
Damn Thing…remember me to look into it. To your morsecode, those beeps mean S-O-S ; Wasn’t there a guy who wanted to fly a plane to somewhere? That could be him, for all we know. Probably crashlanded somewhere. It will probably be crawling with Zeds by now, barely any chance of survivors. Welp. Anyways, Noire is currently in our…‘cockpit’ and is driving, while I’m on the Radio. Had to switch to regular Engines because we had a run-in with zombies and our Batteries are running low, so no electrical Engines until the solars refill our batteries.

[quote=“Peregrin-E, post:77, topic:12854”]Foxtail’s voice emerges from a brief period of loud static. Mechanical backgraound noises can be heard again, it seemed they are again on the move.
“About the fungaloids? Well, their spores don’t only infest human. It seems that just like the thing that made the zombies, they can take over any animals larger than… hell, we don’t know, just large animals in general. Also, speaking of the zombifying things, there’s a fact: whatever these things are, they seems to be weaker than the fungaloid spores. So far we have already encountered lots of infested zombies, they still do what ordinary zombies do but a lot slower and infective. Closer to our movie zombies before this cataclysm mess, I think.Light laugh”[/quote]

He, Foxtail? How big is the Caravan? Any chance we could join you guys? Or would you discourage us from meeting up with ya?


Short, strong static abruptly emerged and quickly turned to discernable voice of Clay Foxtail.

"We are originally a group of ten, but we now only have six. One of us is killed in the last operation, and two left two weeks ago because they are disgusted at … well, some of us.

You are in … New Hampshire? If I remembered correctly? If you can join us in central Vermont, that would be very nice as we are currently in heavy need of helping hands. If you say so, we can start to move to the state border as the fungal cloud have now settled and we have just burned down most of the resulting growths. Although we’re formally part of a military unit of the Old Guards or the former U.S. Army, we are not so oblieged to follow their orders, and their commanding system was so chaotic that I am pretty sure there are more than one 37th Company."

Foxtail paused and sighed.
“However, as a friendly notice, if you can’t tolerate animal-like mutants, you may wish to keep away from us… they are nice folks though.”


Light static.
“How were they mutated? Radiation? Serums or mutagens? How bad have they mutated?”


Long, strong static emerged before the voices come, and light noises persisted throughout Foxtail’s speech. This time her signal is apparently not as good.

"Harker Zhou, the one that gathered all of us, was probably the most heavily mutated of us. [Static] had almost completely transformed into some sort of human-bird hybrid, complete with giant feathered wings, talons, reverse-joint legs and a powerful beak… he never told us explicitly how he got to this point, but by some of his [Static] seemed that it involved some sort of nomadic bandits and a bunch of [Static]. He also told us that a mutation so serious can only be caused by a serum.

Another one of us, Eunice Myers, is a much simpler case. She is a furry who’s brain seemed to be somewhat [Static], enough said. She downed who-knows-how-much [Static] of mutagens labelled as “felis” we found in a derelict lab, and now she’s got the ears and tails she wanted, but now everything other than raw meat and fresh water make her vomit [Static] and she now needs to take vitamin pills regularly … not worth to be symphasized, I think."


Quiet static.
“Clay, have you undergone any mutations?”


Strong white noise followed the whole transmission. The signal is likely still low.

“Likely not. I have never gotten in contact with anything suspicious save for some minor radiation.”


Very faint singal.

“Texstatic has bunch more survstatics but of th** aren’t friestatic


The radio suddenly begins emitting a loud, high-pitched wail, like a feedback surge.
What follows is speech, but it does not sound like any human voice you’ve heard. The words are felt, rather than heard, and they seem to echo in your mind, as if they were your own thoughts.

We are the Mycus. Obey us. Join us. We will feed you. We will make you better.
The “voice” is suddenly replaced by a normal, but desperate-sounding human voice, with a slightly Hispanic accent
Hello? Can anyone copy? My name is [static] Crisanto. There’s a man with two mininukes headed toward [static]. Repeat, there’s a schizophrenic, heavily-mutated [static] headed toward the city of [static].
The rest is garbled into inaudibilty by static and frequent surges of the previous high-pitched feedback.


You can hear the usual slight static before Noire starts talking.

Ok…that…was…weird? uhm…anyways…Crisanto, half of your…message was just a garbled mess. And you’re killing my ears with your feedback loop, knock it off.

He then coughs a little.

So…Foxtail, do you read? Or Captain Zhou or whoever is left of the 37th whatever it was. I just met up with Howell and finished up a little Trade with him. Gave him enough Supplies so he can actually, you know, leave his Lab and head towards Civilization. Or whatever it’s called now. No clue if he’ll be able to keep speaking with us for the time being, I did tell him to search for a small backup generator though he can take with him in his new wheelbarrow. Maybe he’s also smart enough to take his Ham Radio with him, who knows. On another note, I’m heading west now. Alice left, she decided to stay with a group of Survivors who started a town, and I don’t blame her, but personally I prefer staying on the move. Maybe we’ll be able to meet up, More people usually means safety. I also have a spare bed and a working shower and toilet in my…let’s just call it a reinforced RV. You’d have to bring your own soap though! I’m low on soap as is, and i’m not willing to try and mix chemicals together to make more soap, I’m horrible at chemistry.


the voice breaking the static now seems much calmer, and accentless; a different person
Sorry about that. Damn civvies piggybacking on my frequency. Disregard what he told you. This is Gunnery Sergeant Frost of…I don’t even know what battalion company I’m assigned to. The chain of command went to shit when the dead started walking. clears throat In any case, I’m all that’s left of the US army in the immediate area - that I know of, at least. The last order I was given before the brass got eaten was to deliver a nuclear payload - on foot - to various points in the subway system, causing the city to turn into a gigantic sinkhole. New York city, by the way. So get away from the city. Anything within a 3-mIle radius of the city limits will be disintegrated, and I’m not sure how far the radiation goes.


A familiar signal pops in. Along with the sounds of a… engine?

“Hello, everyone! It is me, Dr. Howell! I managed to bring my radio with me! I tell you, it was hard to drag a wheelbarrow to a pick up truck that I found now that I’m out of that cursed lab. Brought what I obtained from a very… cool, for lack of a better term, man named Noire. Currently I’m looking for a refugee center to stay for a little while. Hopefully, I’ll find a place that doesn’t have mutated… ants? Oh, bloody hell…”


A very strong signal comes in; the speaker has a heavy cockney accent.

“Allo? Is any bloke still out there?”


“guess so, i got an electric mini car and i’m living in it, not very comfortable but better than sleeping on the cold high ground”


“Hello! Still here. Shot a crap load of mutant ants, now drinking some tea. How are you all?”


There is nothing less that a constant roar in the background. The man had to yell over the noise.

“Oh I’m doin, just lovely! My one man caravan is on da road right now!”



“One man caravan? Could you elaborate?”


The roar continues.

“I am a man wiv ter much time on 'is 'ands! I’ve built a 20+ tonne machine wiv enuff supplies stawerd ter create a large army!”


Slight static, as well as the sound of someone eating something…crunchy? Then, a familiar voice chimes in.

Heya! Is it just me or do we have a lot of english gentleman here? Apparently you have to be english to survive the apocalypse for longer, huh.

Noire clears their throat and chuckles.

Maybe it’s the Tea that helps with the survival. Who knows. Mine should be done in…a few minutes too, at least I hope so. Found, by pure accident, some wild herbs which can make a decent tea, if I can trust one of my books. So, you seem to be quite well, yes, Howell? I hope the Tea I gave you is to your liking.

More crunchy eating, then a sigh and a mumbled “I should bake more often…” before Noire returns to the Ham Radio.

So, 20 tons you say? Sounds like you took over a Truck. Probably reinforced it too, I’d wager? Yes, probably, some of those…things are quite capable of cutting through thin metal. Or punching through it. Well, let’s say you’re not the only one with a vehicle of that sorts. Back then, when I met up with Howell, my vehicle probably weighed in about 15 to 20 tons as well. Nowadays…Probably more like 40 tons. Good thing it’s on Tank treads, I don’t think there would be enough wheels to move this monster of a vehicle. Even found some Paint and Spray Cans, so now it’s a stylish black. Even named it, it’s called Andraste. I also considered naming it Wōđanaz, Þunraz or Teiwaz.


Lots of static is heard along with what sounds like metal banging on wood, a monotone older male voice then speaks

“eight, twenty one , thirteen, one, fourteen”

slight pause with static

“thirteen, five, one, twenty”

more static and the voice becomes a bit faint to hear

"eight, five , eighteen, five…

more static with what sounds like some scratching is heard, a older male voice speaks


Static, then a confused Noire.

Numbers? Old Man, are you ok?

a drawn out hmmmm escapes Noires Mouth, then an “Aha!”

It must be some kind of Code! Morsecode is out of the question, unless they really changed it. Let’s see, what were the numbers?

Rustling Paper is heard

What was it? 8, 21, 13, 1, 14 ; then a pause and some more numbers, 13, 5, 1…crap, don’t remember the last few numbers. Anyways, let’s see here…do the numbers correspond to the Alphabet…H…U…MA…N…Human, and the other one is…M, E, A… Mea… Mean? Meal? Meat? Ugh, anyone caught the last few numbers, so we can complete the Message? Sounds definitely odd, might be woth investigating.