View Full Version : Nuked: A rather humorous journal in Post-Apocalyptia (Please Critique)

2010-05-20, 07:19 PM
Hello Gitp forums, I decided to post what I have written of my comedy survival story: Nuked

I wanted to gauge how good it is so far, so critique honestly.

*I apologize if their is any bad language, I will remove it if it is a problem, the only questionably words are minor, please alert me to it so I don't get banned, thank you.*

Nuked: A rather humorous journal in Post-Apocalyptia
By:Kiren of the Giantitp forums.

Log One: A sunny day in the wastes
Date: March/14/2045

It is a sunny day today in the United States, the foliage is colorful, the air is pure and I am dreaming aren't I? In reality I woke up to the same hellish nightmare I always seem to find myself in. Ain't life grand? It is quite the frigid day and the greenery is not very green at all I might add. The air is contaminated with just enough chemicals to make it breathable, a term I throw out loosely. There is no place like the great post-apocalyptic America, quite frankly I fail to remember how it became this twisted.

As I bring myself to my feet from a colossal crater I have used to sleep in the previous night, I suppose I should take inventory of what I currently have, as it is best make sure I haven't been mugged by those cursed looters again. My 'Bullet proof' Trenchcoat remains in the crater, I had personally saw to the armoring myself with some random assortments of junk I salvaged from a dumpster. It has never stopped a bullet per se, however its ability to shield from a rather large rock with minimal internal bleeding, leads me to believe it will. Strapped to my head are a pair of green tinted goggles, contrary to what I previously thought, they do not help me see in the dark. On the belt of my trench coat are 5 vials of what I hope to be water, and I have not eaten anything for a week.

I wear a pair of trail boots in order to traverse the broken trails of the wasteland and storage sack on my back to carry salvage. My pet rock is safely stored within my pack, his name is Bob and he lusts for the blood of our enemies. As for weaponry, I have my Pokey stick, a rather sharp stick with a string grip and my d134 Zappy gun, unfortunately it runs on D-batteries, a commodity in the wasteland which I have none of. My last item is a interesting PDA I found in some abandoned store, it is currently recording my journey from whats around me, my senses and thoughts. It can play mp3s too, unfortunately it was not pre-loaded with any. I shake myself of a slight sorrow of not having any tunes and equip my trench coat, for I set off into the wild unknown which is the wasteland.

Log Two: How not to be seen
Date: March/14/2045

Walking along the streets of what was previously known as a town, hunger had struck once again. Most of the readily available food has been looted, rotted or turned into a pile of radioactive dust. What little remains is barely appetizing, the same goes for anything available to drink. Most above and below ground water supplies are irradiated or otherwise contaminated and undrinkable, and all the soda has gone flat. There are however, plenty of scavengers and looters that are not exactly the type to shake your hand and toss you a beer, only the broken empty bottle. So it comes as no supplies that apon reaching the the super market, it would be best to not be seen.

I hid behind some miraculously intact shopping carts and scanned through the windows. About 5+ scavengers with pokey sticks half as sharp as mine, were searching the emptied out store. They looked well fed, well as well fed as you could be out here, so there must have been some food around. I readied my pokey stick and advanced steadily, dragging a shopping cart with me to block their line of sight. As I approached the marketplace, I crawled up beneath the window frame and peaked up into the store. I could not believe my own eyes, for in the middle of the store was a cart full of delicious cheese snacks, enough to feed myself for an entire month!

Well worth the risk I figure, I jump through the frame and hide in the rotten produce section. They obviously were keeping a rather close eye on their food source, in order to reach the holy snacks I had to distract them. "Food, over in the cereal isle!", I shouted without thinking, and as quickly as I had they were rushing in joy over towards the non-existent breakfast. Now, with the snacks unprotected, I rush towards to cart and run with it out of the store. Hearing all the commotion. I suddenly had 5 looters chasing me down, tossing their pokey sticks all around me, at to think this was supposed to be a stealthy mission. I stopped and pulled out my zappy gun, as they all had thrown their sticks in an ill-fated plot to retrieve the snacks. They held their hands up in surrender, unaware to the fact I had no ammunition, they ran abandoning the snacks within my possession. Walking off with my newly gained cart of cheesy goodness, I successfully screwed a bunch of poor looters out of their dinner!

Log Three: The quest for more batteries, part I
Date: March/15/2045

Quite content am I with my blessed cheese snacks, they shall hold me over for quite a while. Luckily the bottles I have been saving did contain water, albeit being of questionable drinkability. It however has occurred to me that pokey stick and impenetrable armor alone will only secure me about 2-3 weeks of living. Unfortunately for the Reaper, I do not plan on becoming some mutated frog's din din, however large and acid breathing they may be. In fact they are very large with very deadly acid breath, and to top it all off, no one I have ever seen knows if they exist. How can I fight that which may not exist, such conflicts are a part of day to day living, which I hope does not include dying.

Unfortunately my best defense is also my most costly one, my Zappy gun only runs on the elusive D-battery. Pre-devastation you couldn't even find a D-battery, hardly anything runs on those things. Nevertheless, an epic confrontation with the creatures of questionable existence calls forth to me, and if I am to successfully distract them long enough to let me run for the hills, I need these batteries. A journey to the next town I set off on, pokey stick in my right hand, zappy gun in my left hand.

Date update: March/20/2045

Its been 5 hellful days of looking for anything resembling a town, much less a store likely looted by snack-less scavengers long ago. However, it is of an utmost importance that these batteries are retrieved, I can hear the blasted toads snickering, waiting, plotting my downfall..... it sends a shiver down my spine. What I happened apon is much more grand then any old store, a pre-devestation fort seemingly empty. If my luck holds, the automated defenses should be offline, and its a hop, skip and a jump straight to the armory and all its fancy problem solving zappy guns, knives and most importantly D-batteries. After a quick inspection of the gate, they do not appear to be broken down, the fort must be fully stocked! What is strange is that their is no barbed wire or spikes on the gates as I am accustomed too, it is a pleasant surprise unlike many other. It is something I do not think much about as I dash towards the crumbling barriers of the fort and jump right into a paradise of munitions, food, soft drinks and batteries!

It was only after I vaulted up the crumbling wall of the fort that I realized why the very expensive government for had no need for barbed wire or even spikes. The walls of the fort were double layered with a gap in between each individual wall and as I was hanging off the edge of the first layer a chunk of the wall slid down into the gap, only to be greeted by a explosion. Normally I like explosions, they are warm and cozy and make bad guys go away, however this gap was filled with a not so friendly kind of explosion, the land mine. The explosion shocked me and I fell down from the wall, just outright lucky I hadn't exploded into many tiny pieces when I hit the ground. My first course of action was to attempt to climb back up the wall, back into safety and assume the fetal position until nightfall, unfortunately this side of the wall was slick, no doubt to keep people in until they could explode, or be picked up.

After standing their eyes wide open waiting to blow up in a million tiny pieces, I managed to somewhat recollect my self. It appears I was not as screwed as I had thought, for a nearby part of the inner wall leading into the fort was crumbled, all that stood between me and batteries was the many small cans o' death. Step after step I took, in the mine field, proding at open areas with my pokey stick. 2 kinds of mine littered the field, the stationary anti-personal Mk.213 mines(APMK.213), the kind that just sit there waiting to ruin my day and of course the pneumatic propelled Mk.434 mines (PPMk.434), one wrong step and they jump up the head length and end you quickly. Both types are indeed quite deadly, and fun to play with on boring Saturday nights, when the raiders scavenge the towns for food and supplies. I used to set them out in dead shrubs and watch with a looky glass, too bad the show ended so quickly, good times though.

Now I am at the mercy of the aforementioned mines, karma really is a bitch isn't it? After what seemed to last forever the end was near, the mines where thinning and the armory was in sight. My heart dropped as my foot tripped a wire, my breathing went silent, and my eyes caught a well feared sight. A pinless-grenade was dropping from the wall, into the minefield, with me in it. I darted out of that minefield not giving a damn about the loose collection of mines still around me, yelling duck and covered as I jumped past the broken segment of wall. I was just able to catch the greatest explosion I have ever seen, it brought me to tears, or perhaps it was my near death experience that had.

The whole perimeter lit up like the forth of July, the smell of c4 and smoke had filled the air. Fire glew through the cracks in the walls, a warm cozy fire, less deadly at this distance. I dropped to my knees and cheered, partly because I still had limbs in which to do so. Unfortunately the celebrations hadn't lasted long, after a minute or so the blast had ceased and only the fires, isolated between the double walls, had remained. At long last, I had the fort all to my self, all the weapons, food, batteries and more at my disposal, my luck had turned around and karma quit screwing me over. I really had hoped it were true.

Their was one thing I had forgotten about military grade technology, a good portion was protected from possible EMP blasts, or otherwise were highly durable. This particular fort does not seem to be one of the 'newer' forts, and had not been built to withstand the apocalypse. One particular defense had lasted I was not yet aware off, that fact was changed rather quickly. As my cheering had come to a halt, a small red dot had danced about the wall in front of me, only to disappear into my shadow. Shrugging it off, more concerned with the batteries, I turned around to be greeted by a rather large metal cylinder and a laser trained on my head.

I was starring down the barrel of a X452 Auto-cannon Emplacement (X452 AC), likely activated by the pretty light show beyond the wall. A combination of thermal vision, laser line-of-sight and facial recognition determined its targets, fortunately for me it was damaged and does not have the immediate response it used too, nevertheless that won't last as soon as it determines me as unfriendly. Rather happy without the 15 bullets with my name on them, getting lodged into my skull in quick succession, I duck behind a building as fast as I can. "Enemy targeted, lethal force approved", the Auto-cannon reported, I figured I was royally screwed at this point. Without line of sight though, I was safe behind the building, safe enough to devise a plan, and have a snack, nearly dying has worked up quite the appetite.

Date update: March/21/2045

That bothersome turret has been taunting me all night long, I can hardly stand it anymore! The nerve of some machinery, can't I get some peace and quiet without hearing "Surrender will be met by lethal force" and "I don't miss twice", every time I roll over in my sleep. That cannon really needs to learn some people skills, just once I would like to hear, "May I please shoot you in the head, perhaps over afternoon tea, I made crumpets.". Oh well, some lethal killing emplacements just can't be helped I suppose. My real problem is the second I step away from this building, I get diced up into small pieces by a bombardment of very hot lead. Now I know my bullet proof trenchcoat will protect me from them, its just the many burning pieces doesn't exactly feel like a comfortable way to spend my afternoon, I got my fill of close encounters of the deadly persuasion yesterday.

After a quick breakfast, delicious snacks just the way I like them, I began to formulate my plan to disable the turret and reach the batteries. I retrieved my pet rock Bob from my pack and discussed tactics with him, he had nothing important to add, as usual i'm afraid. The plan was to send off Bob as a diversion while I was to sneak behind the cannon and jab it with my pokey stick several times, a perfect plan, fool-proof even! I threw Bob off to nearby building, the turret was intrigued by this sudden movement, as he dropped to the ground, unharmed by the turret I darted towards a random building to flank it. I had forgotten the number one rule for avoiding thermal-equipped emplacements, throw something warm. To my surprise I once again had been staring down the barrel of a rather rude turret.

Fortunately however, the cannon had to re-authenticate me as a target, thanks to the brilliant diversion of my good friend Bob. The turret's lack of maintenance degraded its reaction time significantly from its pre-disaster status, otherwise I would be physically pinned to the wall by many large bullets, presumably explosive rounds designed to take out aircraft, and scavengers apparently. To my luck I had been able to dash to a new building just as it had picked me up again. Once again I find myself running for my life as the turret taunts "Stand still, it will only hurt for so long". I managed to reach a medium-sized building, with more advanced shielding then the others, big letters faded over the door appear to spell out 'ARMORY'. I nearly broke down the door in excitement, but it is best not to awake the defenses I don't know about. Entering in quickly, I stood staring at the room for a while, to my disbelief the room was almost completely stripped clean, no guns, no knives, no camouflage, but what about the batteries!

I spent the better part of an hour going through the room, looking for forgotten equipment, and hopefully D batteries. Ontop of a workbench, in a vice was a square metal box and a sash draped over a chair, the box was marked X87 personal shield generator, presumably experimental as I am not familiar with it. I took the shield generator from the vice and inspected it, their were dials, a safety switch and gauges on the top of the device, it was to be chest mounted from the sash in order to monitor and adjust the device. The front of it's casing held a blue unmarked button, presumably for activating the shield, I figured I should test it out, would be a shame to let such rare technology go to waste. I fitted the box to it's sash and wore it over my trenchcoat, it wasn't to heavy and it rather complimented my googles if I do say myself.

Without hesitation I flipped a safety switch and pressed the blue activation button. Two notable effects have come from this action, first off a shield had formed for all of 5 seconds and the device burned out, but I wasn't quite concerned with that. It hadn't bothered me much because I was too busy receiving a massive shock from the device to even notice. I fell to the floor twitching with lack of muscle control, I was in a fair amount of pain from the jolt, but no serious or permanent injuries had occurred. Normally I would have chucked the device out the window when I came to my feet, however I decided to keep it, because it complimented my attire very well. After a few minutes, I regained my muscle control and co-ordination from the shock and was back to my normal self.

It was just now that I had noticed a drawer that was slightly ajar containing an object concealed in the dark. My curiosity lead me to inspect the drawer, firmly deciding to test further questionable boxes with my pokey stick or Bob. To my delight, I had stumbled across a pack full of 12 batteries! It was my dream come true, enough D-batteries to last me for...oh dammit they are AA's! AA's are uncommon these days but not widespread in weapon technology, every day electronics thrive on these however. I store the AA's in my pack, perhaps they will come to use, at least I hadn't left empty handed. As I left the armory, the familiar sounds of the rude turret had ceased, the armory's shielding had blocked my thermal signature, with no other sounds or signals to provoke the cannon it had deactivated. Taking advantage of the situation, I went to retrieve Bob and stored him in my pack. I quickly ran out of the deathtrap some lucky soldiers were stationed in, it doesn't even require them to keep invaders out.


2010-05-21, 09:18 PM
Bump to raise

2010-05-22, 04:15 PM
Lots of views, any comments?

2010-05-23, 11:40 AM
This my good man is pure undiluted WIN!!!

I hope that the main character is supposed to come off as slightly crazy and it's not you being ever so slightly crazy :smallconfused:


2010-05-23, 08:35 PM
Thank you Merlin, and wouldn't you like to know lol. :smallbiggrin:

2010-05-24, 10:09 PM
I like the unreliable narrator angle, especially how it becomes gradually crazier. As for concrit, I feel it's a little overly verbose. Also, a lot of the sentences are on the long side, and could be broken up into two. As a general rule (not absolute, though), I don't include more than one or two commas per sentence.

I wanna see the stats for the narrator. This is funny.

2010-05-25, 10:53 PM
Grammar structure has never exactly been my forte, my use of comma is most definitively flawed. Alot of what is written in a sentence may not fit as a standalone sentence either. But once I finish Part 1 of the storyline, I will go through with a fine-toothed comb. (I will force myself to do so)

Thank you for the critique, it helps alot.

Edit: I will look into stating the narrator, as soon as I feel their is enough material to work with.

2010-05-29, 05:11 PM
Damn you writer's block!

2010-06-01, 07:15 PM
Bump, critiques welcomed!