Fabricant451

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

_{Location: Old Road Motel, Thirty Minutes Outside Pines Holler}
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A lifetime away from the struggles of a town that was without power, Theresa Patterson was fighting a different battle. Last night had been such an ordeal that the only thing she had wanted to do when entering the poor excuse for a room was turn the air conditioning on, turn on Netflix, and fall asleep to Is It Cake?. The only flaw in her plan was, as she had learned through a lengthy conversation with the woman at the front desk during check in, was that the Old Road Motel didn't have Netflix. Honestly, that should've been a deal breaker, but it hadn't been Theresa who had arranged for this motel stay, that went to her bosses at Waldron and Sons who had decided to finally listen to her idea about southern towns being potential hotbeds for development. Leave it to the big shots in the board rooms to book her the crappiest hotel in the area. No Netflix, no HBO, hell, not even ESPN, but the Old Road Motel prided itself on its selection of adult entertainment options.

That explained why there was a condom machine in the bathroom.

It wasn't the lack of viewing options that was this morning's battle, however. To Theresa's great surprise, the air conditioning did work so at the very least she was able to enjoy the winter-like conditions that came with every hotel as she watched Netflix on her phone until sleep claimed her. That same air conditioning was now making a sound that was like a mix between a sputtering car engine and a hinge in desperate need of replacing. It hadn't happened immediately, but if a machine could cough then that's what the air conditioning unit did as Theresa was in the middle of brushing her teeth in the bathroom, eyes looking not in the mirror at the annoyed face that would have stared back and asked what the fuck she was even doing here, but at the condom machine hanging on the wall like a threat.

Odd as it was, the machine had Theresa thinking about Ryan. About the dinner at the Polish restaurant where Theresa laughingly admitted that she didn't even know Poland had cuisine other than beer and pierogis; Ryan hadn't found it quite as funny as Theresa had and that was part of the reason for the dinner. One last chance for Theresa to feel what it was like to have a romantic evening, though how romantic could it really have been if she went home alone and had to delete her lock screen back to a default wallpaper just so she wouldn't be one of those dumped women who kept a constant reminder of her ex no matter how serious the relationship had been. It was probably for the best. If Theresa had brought Ryan down here to the middle of nowhere, their relationship probably would've ended anyway. Or maybe it would've been a strengthening experience. The kind of couples trip that turns a two and a half year relationship into a lifelong commitment.

All of that was in her head as she looked at the condoms and heard the loud BANG of he air conditioning machine, snapping her back to the reality of her situation. The toothbrush fell from her mouth, clattered against the counter top, and fell to the bathroom floor. She didn't even take time to spit the toothpaste out before poking her head into the room proper. The television was still playing at a low volume, the local news was talking about some kind of power outage down in the Pines and had Theresa been focused on that she might well have considered this whole stupid idea to be a big goddamn mistake, but instead she was listening for the white noise of the air conditioning. Nothing. She dipped back into the bathroom, picking up her toothbrush and spitting the toothpaste out in the same motion. Only after running water over the bristles and putting the toothbrush back in its holder did Theresa's eyes look in the mirror.

How was it possible to look so tired at nine in the morning? It was a miracle she had managed to brush her hair, but the June humidity would likely make her hair frizz and not in the cool afro sense of the word. She had to do her makeup. She had a whole-ass skincare routine, all for the sake of appearances, all for people who were probably going to tell her to fuck off as soon as they found out what she was here for. Theresa smiled at the mirror. It reached her eyes but only because it was practiced.

The reflection didn't smile back at her.

Half an hour and one phone call later, Theresa was finally ready to go to work. The phone call had been appropriately weird, with the front desk seeming very confused by the fact that Theresa was saying the air conditioning was making weird sounds. “It’s supposed to makke noise!” was the first barrier she had to break through in explaining herself. Victory was claimed when the voice on the other line said they’d have someone come and take a look at it later, and it took every ounce of restraint Theresa had to not make a comment of if ‘take a look at it later’ meant literally. As in, someone would go in, look at the air conditioning, and leave. So she just smiled that pretend smile while looking at the turned off television screen and the face she was starting to recognize looking back at her, thanked the front office for their help, and hung up.

In the pocket of the slacks she was wearing, because the nature of her job meant she had to look the part with her blue button down and a suit jacket hanging in the closet ready to grab on the way out, was her cellphone and her father was a phone call away. He could have thee air conditioning fixed in record time. Growing up, everyone knew to call George Patterson if they needed some home repair done; he was more reliable than an out of town corporate contractor and often took payment in a casserole dish or saran wrapped. But it had been ten years since Theresa had spoken to her father. Did he still do contracting work? He was never more than a phone call away even as she was miles and miles and state lines from home.

So why was it that she never felt further away from him than when she was a half an hour away from his front door? She had to see him while she was in town, right? Had to knock on the door, hear him make a corny joke like all dads did, hear him call for her mother and explain how there was a stranger at the door. Have the awkward reunion dinner where they ask hard questions about her life, her job, her relationships and the lack of children. Peach cobbler and slightly melted vanilla ice cream for dessert.

No. She’d not seen her parents in ten years. She could go another ten days.

With the air conditioning matter handled for the moment, Theresa grabbed her blazer and left her motel room. The upside for a motel like this, with the building being laid out horizontally, was that her car was literally outside her door. The sun was already in the air and the weather was threatening to grow hotter as the day went on. Ahead of her was the long road home. Flat land, flatter scenery, and her future within her company all beckoned her forth. For her own sake, she really hoped this wouldn’t turn out to be a waste of her time. A waste of company resources? That was fine. But her time was precious and she could think of a hundred other things she could be doing rather than returning home and trying to convince people she once broke bread with that now she wanted them to accept the fact that the town would be better off with modernization. Tearing down the old. Building up the new.

Throwing the blazer in the passenger seat, Theresa pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto the long road home. Her only companion was the music synced from her phone, turned up to drown out her thoughts. She hadn’t seen the road from this angle before. Theresa had driven away, never looking back, and yet as she saw the sign welcoming her to Pines Holler as she rounded a bend, she was already seeing the cracks that she hadn’t noticed before.

Was the welcome sign always so weathered? The roads so worn down? Had that store always been boarded up, that glass always there, the faded graffiti that looked liked the letters ‘ZF’ on fire always been there? This place was home to people, it was home to her until it wasn’t. But even as she looked at the unfamiliar sights through familiar eyes, there was something in the back of her throat; not quite nostalgia but…an uncertain familiarity. Lou’s was still there. Clark’s General Store or as she called it with her dad as a kid ‘The Woodshop’. The sight of a McDonald’s and a Bojangles gave her a little hope that modernization was possible. Inevitable.

Theresa found a parking space just beyond main street. Waffle House and Dollar General serving as beacons on opposite ends between which were the first stops on her journey. Leaving the blazer in the car but grabbing a handbag where she could store her clipboard and notebook and everything important in her life, Theresa stepped out of the car and onto Pines Holler soil for the first time in over a decade.

”Heavens, is that…Old George’s daughter? That you, Tessa?” An older woman currently fanning herself as she stepped out of a small shop carrying a plastic bag waved to Theresa. The kind of wave that was full of familiarity, as if it was only yesterday that Theresa was waving to the grown ups on her way to go fishing in the crick. Theresa inhaled a sharp breath. Recognized in record time. Old people were supposed to have memory problems.

”It’s Theresa.”

Yes it was. And she was home.

Video Game Discussion: Part IV (The Gaming Industry in Decay Arc)

<Snipped quote by Fabricant451>

I'm gonna be maining the shit out of Mina whenever it gets a proper release.

@Majoraa

Me personally I love Graves and Holliday and Paige and Vyper and Billy

I am trash at Holliday but I like her design so much that I am willing to practice her

Video Game Discussion: Part IV (The Gaming Industry in Decay Arc)

I suck ass at Deadlock

I love the style of Deadlock

One of these will either have me grinding until I'm good at it or simply admiring from afar. Not sure which yet.

๑ ❝ 𝕮 𝔥 𝔞 𝔯 𝔪 𝔢 𝔡 , 𝕴‘𝔪 𝖘𝔲𝔯𝔢 ❞ ๑ { A Witch’s Tale - RP }

Noah Devlin

๑ Noah Devlin ๑

☾ "Wouldn't be doin' me ancestors proud if I stood by and let the hierarchy of power stay so damn oppressive now would I?" ☽

۞ Hedge Witch

❦ Personality & History ❦

- Noah was one of the lucky ones in her family. Lucky because she didn't have to learn later in life that she was touched by Magicka, though if you'd ask her, she'd say things were better before that fourteenth birthday when her grandmother revealed that the Devlin family has had a touch of magic in their blood dating back to the days of the Wise Women of Ireland. Better because life is so much easier when you can go through it thinking the only problems in the world are things beyond your grasp. Like politics or endless job applications leading nowhere. But Noah had a weird inkling that something was...different. Even before she learned about the lineage of the Devlin's, Noah was often plagued with dreams that made no sense to her untrained eyes. Dreams where she wasn't exactly present but was seeing things through eyes other than her own. Not for long, but long enough for Noah to recall certain details as if she had been there. She hadn't, of course. But her ancestors had.

Being a Witch came with certain rules and expectations. Secrecy, of course, was chief among them and this was especially true for Noah given that the Devlin Family's heritage dating back to the 1700s meant that there were certain expectations. While not an Elder Family, the Devlin's very much respected their guidance and laws for the safety and prosperity of Witches. Naturally someone whose power was given by her ancestors would start to question things. The more Noah questioned things about the Witch world, the more she got frustrated by just being told "because that's the way it is" or fancier, polite ways of telling her to simply shut up and mind her own business. "For your protection" starts to sound a lot like "because we said so" after a while.

Those frustrations are what drew Noah away from magic altogether. At least, that was the intent. To walk away, to keep the secret information to herself, and to only see her family at mandatory holidays, if that. And it worked for a while. Denial is a hell of a thing when paired with annoyance. But she kept having the dreams. Kept hearing the ancestors. And they never sounded happy. Fortunately, Corinthia found Noah and Noah found their whole...anarchic witchy revolution vibe to be...fun. A mutually beneficial relationship if ever there was one. Noah's family certainly doesn't approve and that puts her at odds with them as much as it does the Elders. The Devlin's will still welcome her back to the fold, but Noah has spoken with witches in her family tree. She knows they'd approve of what she's doing. And that's all that matters.

Noah has a tendency to speak her mind even when silence is preferred and rare is the time where she doesn't have something lippy to say. It's the Irish in her. Fortunately, her banter is based purely on who it is aimed at. For her fellow Corinthia Witches? It's mostly just fun. For her family? The Elders? Well, then her words tend to be a bit more pointed. Her family history and proximity with the Elders is something she keeps secret, to the point where most in Corinthia don't know her last name is Devlin because she told them her name was Noah Dolan. She believes this is one of those deceptions, lies, that is more beneficial to keep. If it got out that she came from a traditionalist family...wouldn't that make he Corinthians distrust her?

Of course, Noah makes it easy to throw distrust in her direction anyway. She has a penchant for fabrications and fast talking, not dissimilar to a con artist. No one can deny her passion for the cause, but plenty can question where that motivation comes from. Confidence is a good thing and Noah has that in abundance. She's eager to master spells in large part because her family wouldn't let her. Naturally, Noah is a bit skeptical about authority figures, and that extends to Corinthia as well. Sure, she believes in the cause, but she keeps an ear open because she's heard what people who are seeking to merely control others sounds like. But she so wants to believe that everyone in Corinthia is a true believer like her. Loyalty like Noah's is valuable, both in loyalty to the cause and loyalty to her fellow Witches.

With Noah, she'll always let you know where you stand with her.

❦ Corinthia Witch ❦

⊱ ⊰

๑ ❝ 𝕮 𝔥 𝔞 𝔯 𝔪 𝔢 𝔡 , 𝕴‘𝔪 𝖘𝔲𝔯𝔢 ❞ ๑ { A Witch’s Tale - RP }

I was originally thinking Phoenix or Celestial but as I was planning the character Hedge made the most sense so I went Hedge Witch!

๑ ❝ 𝕮 𝔥 𝔞 𝔯 𝔪 𝔢 𝔡 , 𝕴‘𝔪 𝖘𝔲𝔯𝔢 ❞ ๑ { A Witch’s Tale } { Closed }

If this is still looking, I'm interested

Video Game Discussion: Part IV (The Gaming Industry in Decay Arc)

I saw that Gamespot dropped a hands-on preview of Highguard today. The game is sitting at Mostly Negative on Steam, and I don't personally have any interest in it, but GS were describing the game as if it's some novel new experience that has no genre. While I was listening to them describing it, a term immediately came to mind—it's an FPS MOBA. That's literally it. It's not anything new, and it doesn't have to be.

@Jimbo

It's not even an FPS MOBA. It is an FPS Buffet but not like one of those fancy buffets that you get at Vegas or something, but like a buffet where they have those eternally sticky plastic mats by the Coke machine and the wettest macaroni and cheese you've ever seen.

It is a mix of a bunch of different concepts from FPS games of the past decade or so but none of them work together in any coherent way. You have a base where at the start you reinforce by putting crap on the walls (like Rainbow Six Siege) then you go out and loot chests to find blue and purple weapons and armor (like Fortnite or Apex) then the objective spawns and it becomes CTF until someone brings the flag to the enemy base where now it becomes a bomb planting game like CS where the attacking team has to either destroy two sites or one super special site while the defending team has to, well, defend. If defense successful, go back to the loot part and repeat.

But here's where everything else falls apart.

-It's 3v3 and the maps are empty. There are only ever three people to shoot in the map but the map is pretty big (how else will they justify selling mounts and $22 mount skin packs) and during the loot phase you can go the entire time not seeing a single soul.

-At the start of the match you can select two weapons and a heavy weapon (for breaking walls). There's no cost to this, you just pick the weapons you like. Then in the loot phase, you are basically left up to luck to see if you get a blue or purple or orange tier of the weapon you like. Chances are you won't. This means you will have to either change your loadout based on what weapon you get in a chest or go farming for crystals.

-The crystals are because there's a shop at different points in the map. The shop sells weapon upgrades and armor. This leads to a scenario where during the loot phase it is likely better to simply farm these crystals and buy the upgraded weapons and armor you want rather than leave it up to chance. This also makes it more likely that you don't see anyone during the loot phase, thus making the early part of the game boring.

-The respawns are 17 seconds long. This is far too long especially once the actual engagements happen. These respawns are only so long because there is a system where your teammates can revive you by holding a button by your corpse to rez you and enemies can do the same and prevent you from even being rezzed. So it is quite possible that you will respawn during a base defense, die immediately, and have to wait another 17 seconds.

-Any armor you get you lose one stack of on death. This means if you get, say, purple armor and die, you go down to blue armor. If you only have, say, two stacks of blue armor, you will have no armor if you die three times. This creates a system where if you die during the defense/attack phase, it is possible that this snowballs you into being even easier to kill repeatedly and thus hastens your defeat.

-The hero abilities are so half assed that it's easy to forget you even have them. Every character has one ability, one passive, and an ult. I played as a muscular masked lady whose passive is 'spirits will bring her loot'. It happened twice in three games.

-The characters have no style. One of them just looks like reject Ken from Street Fighter and another is edgy Jack Frost from Rise of the Guardians. You could put the eight characters side by side and they would not look like they were from the same universe.

-Grenades also have a cooldown because why not, it works in Destiny.

I'm sure the game has an audience. I'm just not sure who that audience is.

Japanese Pro-Wrestling RP (E-Fed Style)

I mean I'm a pretty big joshi wrestling fan and I've done efedding before so...I'm curious

Is it just me, or are profiles 10 years or older kinda terrifying?

<Snipped quote by Kassarock>

I've been here for like 12 years and never knew that, what?!

@Birdboy

Ask a real oldie what things were like before the GUILDFALL

then tuck us in to bed, we need our naps

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

Scott Dawson || Attorney Once At Law

_{Faceclaim: Joe Alwyn // Color Code: 59659C}
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

_{Full Name:}

Scott Michael Dawson

_Nickname(s):

Scotty: Childhood friends and peers called him Scotty. He never minded it.

22: Specifically pronounced as 'TWO TWO'. His number when he played football. It was hard not to feel pride when hearing it called by the crowd at a game or in the lockers.

_Age:

37

_Gender:

Male

_Sexuality:

Wouldn't call himself bisexual. But then, he wouldn't call him using certain hookup apps as gay because he was never 'playing catcher'. Has only ever dated women. Others could certainly call him bisexual, though.

_Occupation:

Criminal Defense Lawyer, with some experience in Entertainment Law. At one point he was considering going corporate law but...the chance never came. Presently, though, he's unemployed and seeking odd jobs to do around his home town, while not exactly saying he lost his license in the legal world.

_{Place of Residence:}

Used to live at 26 Shady Pines Drive but would just as much rather crash at the houses of others than live out of the old trailer home. It's not exactly a good look but it might be his only option.

_{Family and Close Connections:}

Martin Stone - Mentor in the legal world. Showed Scott the ropes. At the time he didn't know that was forming into a noose. | FC: Guy Pearce

Cousin Willie - Technically speaking, he's Scott's uncle. But he insisted on being called Cousin Willie. Works at a bait shop. Believes conspiracy theories. Always has a beer nearby. Helping out his sister, Scott's mother. | FC: Woody Harrelson

Mark Dawson - Scott's father. Scott didn't go to the funeral. He had to take the bar. They're more alike than expected.

Stephanie Dawson - Scott's mother. Lives in an assisted living facility. Scott sent payments. They're infrequent now. But she's accepted that the payments won't be needed forever. Cancer is a heavy thing to live with. It's a worse thing to die with. | FC: Dianne Wiest

_Appearance:

• Height: 6'1"
• Hair: A brunette that could sometimes pass for a dirty blonde in the right light. During school he was clean cut, but now he's more forgiving of facial hair, specifically a light beard. His hair is a bit scruffy even with combing.
• Eyes: Dark blue.
• Body Type: Scott has kept in shape though not quite to the extent he did in high school. His shoulders are broad but his physique is more limber rock star than body builder. He's hit the gym more often since returning; there's not much else to do, and his body is thanking him for it.
• Clothing Style: He's well dressed, which is a change from simply wearing t-shirts and jeans in his youth. He's really come around on khakis and will often wear a jacket with an undershirt. Enjoys long sleeves, not because he has something to hide but because they're comfortable and can be casual as well as formal. Will revert to t-shirts and jeans when doing handiwork or outdoorsy activities.
• Body Markings: Has a tattoo. Ask him where it is and maybe he'll show you. It's on his back. Left shoulder. It's the Green Lantern logo.

_Personality:

There's a reason people hate lawyers until they need them and Scott isn't exactly doing anything to change that reputation. He is charismatic in the way that a car salesman, or a conman, is. It's not just in the way he talks, always knowing when to smile or smirk or to offer a promise with his eyes when his words can't, but it's also in how he carries himself. He knows full well that doors have a tendency to open when you're tall and (dirty) blonde and handsome. But for all the gift of the gab, Scott has a wonder if he's even capable of having any sort of real, meaningful conversation if he routinely treats people like, well, clients.

He doesn't lack in empathy, but he also finds it far too easy to lie and lie and build on those lies to the point where the wrong kind of push threatens to make everything crash down. He doesn't believe he's a bad person, but then who really does? Before he left for brighter pastures, Scott was regularly called a 'sweet boy' by the older residents of Pines Holler and considering he was always willing to do some yard work or little errands as a teen, it was no surprise where that reputation came from. He's still willing to do yard work, the only difference is back in his youth he did it to be kind; now he'd do it to earn some cash or to negotiate a place to stay.

He knows that his lies will likely catch up to him but Scott harbors deep embarrassment and shame about his career failings that he doesn't want to get the sympathy party from his old town. So he lies. So he distorts the truth. So he says whatever he can to get a favorable outcome in whatever he pursues. He may not have a license anymore but he's still a goddamn lawyer at heart. And maybe being back around people that still remember the 'sweet boy' or still get excited saying '22! TWO TWO!' will do him good.

_History:

Scott Dawson had all the makings of a Pines Holler lifer. The kind of person that was born, raised, and would grow old in the blanket that was small town living. And it was easy to see why. From a young age he was enjoying the small town delights. Fishing. Climbing trees. Being part of the community. He found sports at a young age thanks to his dad, whose particular vice wasn't alcohol or drugs but something that could just as easily tear a family apart. His father, Mark, had dreams of athletic glory but it was wishful thinking. Mark was more the kind of person who wrote about sports rather than play them.

Football was where Scott shined athletically. He was a wide receiver and was known for his speed allowing him to take open pass routes and make catches that otherwise seemed like they'd be incomplete. But his passion was never football. It was just something to do and it made people happy. He dreamed of more, not of being an athlete, but something that mattered. He read watched the books movies of authors like John Grisham, particularly The Rainmaker and A Time To Kill. The idea that some young hotshot could make a difference in the world just by using guile and charisma? How could he not think it was the perfect path?

His grades, though, weren't anything to write about. He was coasting on athletics. His father thought he was wasting time, that God gave him a gift and that Scott was squandering it. But Scott knew that being decent at football in a small town was different from being good at football in a professional sense. Scott's mother, though, was supportive and was the one who gave Scott the money to send college applications and enough pocket money to get by when he finally did get accepted. It wasn't a great school, but it was out of state and had a law program.

When Scott went away to college, the glue holding his parents together went with him. His mother, well aware of the vice her husband was a slave to, grew distant. Which only continued to drive Mark Dawson into the messages and hotel rooms of others. Stephanie knew what her husband was doing, and Mark could apologize with the best of them, but neither wanted to admit that their marriage was all but over. So Stephanie took on the burden of maintaining optimism while Mark grew more and more indulgent. The two of them maintained the act for the sake of others. For the sake of Scott, who had already known of his father's affairs before his mom found out. But Scott didn't want to hurt his mom or betray his dad. So he said nothing. Maybe if he had spoken up, things would've been different. Life is full of maybes.

Scott took his studies seriously and while he was never top of the class, he did get through law school while working at a sports bar cleaning tables and dealing with drunken women who found his southern boy charm, well, charming and drunken men who loved to argue over teams. Scott might have enjoyed some unexpected perks of being around alcohol when not at class, but he was young and the idea of being a potential home wrecker wasn't on his mind. In that way, he was kind of like his father.

Once he passed the bar, he wanted to tell his parents but that was when he learned he had missed the funeral of his father. A heart attack. Scott spent some time in mourning, drowning regrets, until he was hired by the Stone, Slattery, and Whitley Law Firm. He was taken under the wing of Martin Stone, one of the partners of the firm, and he was like a second father figure, showing Scott the real way law worked. He was eager to learn. To absorb it all. Scott even once referred to Martin as "Bruiser Stone" but Martin didn't get the reference. Martin kept building Scott up, having him experience trials and getting that experience until he was given the reigns on a case well before other juniors in the firm were typically given them.

Scott just assumed Martin saw something in him.

He was right. Martin saw a perfect patsy.

Scott was supposed to defend a woman accused of murder. Rich deceased husband. Life insurance pay outs. The stuff legal dramas were made of. Scott got a little too close with the client, thinking that he could get find something to help the defense. At the same time Stone, Slattery, and Whtiley was being audited. The stars aligned and Scott was held responsible after being found sleeping with his client under the guise of using her money to funnel into the firm. Embezzlement was bad enough, but violating the client's trust like that was worse. He pleaded for Martin Stone to help him. But Stone did nothing. Scott was disbarred before his career could even take off.

His only solace was that his situation would likely not reach his hometown. With little other option, Scott found himself returning to Pines Holler. As far as they know he's still a 'big shot lawyer' and he'll let them think that. Maybe even make some vague notion of starting a private little firm near town. But he just needs a place to lay low and keep in good moral standing. Maybe then he can appeal and get his job back.

But things are rarely so simple.

_{Extra Facts // Headcannons:}

• Scott isn't much in favor of the expansion even if it won't really impact him once he leaves again. If he does. He's seen other small towns lose their charm and knows that most of the people won't have anywhere to go if they're pushed out. But he's not naive enough to think that a small community can stand against corporations with bank accounts bigger than the income of the citizens.
• As evidenced by his tattoo, he's secretly a fan of comic books. Or at least a fan of the Green Lanterns. His favorite is Kyle Rayner.
• He's not so secretly a mamma's boy at heart.
• Is well aware that his past habits of hooking up with not always single people made him similar to his father. But since he has never cheated himself that he's somewhat blameless. It's the lawyer in him.
• He was the one who called Cousin Willie to have him keep an eye on his mom. Willie already was.
• Not ashamed to admit he enjoys pop music.
• Refuses to eat fish.
• Still has his old football jersey. For sentimental reasons.