Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20160902215054/@comment-25828117-20170904093545

Inside rows of aisles filled with foodstuffs in old plastic barrels, wooden crates and jute sacks lined the walls. thin corrugated Iron walls that had little holes in them letting in beams of white flare light which painted figures on the dirt floor. Weapons were in the back, a tucked away pocket of the place that served as a little workshop with a wooden pallet floor. It had a workbench with rusty tools strewn across it which in turn were covered in sawdust or just plain old dust.

A vise which held the beginnings of a pipe rifle, constructed out of wood and springs was the first weapon Jacob could see. At least the bright light outside helped illuminate this place which probably hadn't been used in a while. Across the room you could find boxes of ammo. From 9mm's to .50 BMG's, the bigger the fewer of them there were though.

To the far left of the workbench there was a model seven remington bolt action rifle with a scope, not infra-red though. Pretty unwieldy in the dark.

"We can't see shit out here!" A farmer yelled from behind his cover as he peaked over the old rusty car which he had chosen as cover, to look at the dark horizon where the ocean met the nightsky. Somewhere out there, the preachers were hiding.

Haunani noted the grievance of her people and in turn looked back towards Gerald.

"Err, Robot!" She called.

"Can you maybe look towards the ocean with your robo-eyes?"