Wilson, do you understand satire?
Foster Member
STATUS: A roleplay not for the timid: "The quest to restore the abandoned Waffle House" 15 days ago
- Last Seen: 15 hrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Foster
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 4119 (0.90 / day)
- VMs: 33
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- Foster 12 yrs ago
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15 days ago
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A roleplay not for the timid: "The quest to restore the abandoned Waffle House"
4
likes
1 mo ago
I do agree with Yandere's sentiment that words not wording workingly do be a problem this time of year.
1 mo ago
Scratch that, place your bets on polymarket.
2 mos ago
Looks like I'll be working on memorial day weekend. And no, this does not mean place any bets on polymarket.
3 mos ago
due to a typo on my part I was nearly convinced I owed the IRS nearly $3000 in excess taxes this year.
5
likes
Bio
-There will be delays in replies. Largely due to working overtime, voluntary obligations; other RPs and online-things may compete for my attention.
'Bout me:
Started RPing (badly) back in '05, mostly doing nation-RPs with an emphasis on technology and strategy, later edging out to character-espionage and military-tactics before doing "less serious" character roleplays that were outside of the 2005-2008 continuity.
That's when I went to Dead-Frontier, and found the RP community there, joined a clan, did some pretty good roleplays and pretty much loosened-up my online-personality. When the clan-leader decided to move her RPs here, most of the clan followed.
Took a course in technical-writing back in '08, so now I may sometimes use the semicolon correctly.
In 2010 I dusted off the old nation-RP continuity I had, doing a few hetelia-esque RP-shenanigans there..
RP-Habbits: I tend to geek-out on little technical-details, and sometimes infer how those details would impact the background of the roleplay. Great for world-building, not so great when you had a perfectly good plotline and I just MacGyver it off the rails (though I usually er to the side of amusement, sometimes it creates very grim side-stories).
'Bout me:
Started RPing (badly) back in '05, mostly doing nation-RPs with an emphasis on technology and strategy, later edging out to character-espionage and military-tactics before doing "less serious" character roleplays that were outside of the 2005-2008 continuity.
That's when I went to Dead-Frontier, and found the RP community there, joined a clan, did some pretty good roleplays and pretty much loosened-up my online-personality. When the clan-leader decided to move her RPs here, most of the clan followed.
Took a course in technical-writing back in '08, so now I may sometimes use the semicolon correctly.
In 2010 I dusted off the old nation-RP continuity I had, doing a few hetelia-esque RP-shenanigans there..
RP-Habbits: I tend to geek-out on little technical-details, and sometimes infer how those details would impact the background of the roleplay. Great for world-building, not so great when you had a perfectly good plotline and I just MacGyver it off the rails (though I usually er to the side of amusement, sometimes it creates very grim side-stories).
Most Recent Posts
She whimperwd a bit and backed into the house, "You're being too loud... the fence is borken so now they can get up here." She looked very upset at this point, "G-Get in the house." It was obvious she was pretty smart when it came to these things, she had gotten most of it from her father. Opening the door up all the way she motioned for them to come in and then motioned for them to be quiet. Her clutch on the doorknob shook slightly, she was terrified of people now.
Mr Taggart took the end of hostilities as his cue to let his rifle down, the sling was detached, so he settled on a one-handed field-carry in his left-hand as he approached the person calling themselves Patrick Willis, and accepted the handshake to introduce himself as he snuck into the house as per the little girl's instructions, "William Taggart, from Wisconsin. Land of the deep-fried cheese-curd."
Looking inside, he promptly found a place to set the eleven pounds of wood and steel down where it wouldn't tip-over, a nice corner or up against the molding of a door-frame would do.
@LPFan
Note to @LPFan regarding Taggart's trigger-discipline for Mosin-Nagants.
I forgot to mention him taking his finger away from the trigger while moving towards the pillar because it never was anywhere near the trigger in the first place*. Hopefully this tiny detail won't change much.
*The bolt-safety of the Mosin is rather awkward and stiff, seldom used. 99% of it is a very strong trigger-discipline whenever the chamber is loaded.
All that said, Taggart is too blind to see whether or not Willis is practicing same trigger-indiscipline, and only knew there was a gun pointed at him, so it would have probably taken holstering the gun for him to calm-down anyways.
I forgot to mention him taking his finger away from the trigger while moving towards the pillar because it never was anywhere near the trigger in the first place*. Hopefully this tiny detail won't change much.
*The bolt-safety of the Mosin is rather awkward and stiff, seldom used. 99% of it is a very strong trigger-discipline whenever the chamber is loaded.
All that said, Taggart is too blind to see whether or not Willis is practicing same trigger-indiscipline, and only knew there was a gun pointed at him, so it would have probably taken holstering the gun for him to calm-down anyways.
>Seconds what Piro said.
@LPFan@Love Me Dead
It didn't take long at all for him to swing the aim of his Mosin towards the newcomer as he seemed to do the same with a tiny little revolver. He quietly wondered to himself if he had any rounds for it as he asked for identification. If the man did have a full cylinder, it was likely he could rattle them all off in his direction in the time it took for him to cycle the bolt.
Moving steadily towards a porch-column to lean against, he kept a solid bead against the man as he spoke, slowly. "I am only passing through. Are you this girl's father?" Gabel's protests barely registered to him, he was locked in a standoff with a man he did not trust who he'd just witnessed breaking-into and out-of someone else's home for god knows what reasons; he eyed the excessively-large green ruck with a hip-strap on his back.
If things went bad, he'd only get one shot at bringing this guy down without joining him.
It didn't take long at all for him to swing the aim of his Mosin towards the newcomer as he seemed to do the same with a tiny little revolver. He quietly wondered to himself if he had any rounds for it as he asked for identification. If the man did have a full cylinder, it was likely he could rattle them all off in his direction in the time it took for him to cycle the bolt.
Moving steadily towards a porch-column to lean against, he kept a solid bead against the man as he spoke, slowly. "I am only passing through. Are you this girl's father?" Gabel's protests barely registered to him, he was locked in a standoff with a man he did not trust who he'd just witnessed breaking-into and out-of someone else's home for god knows what reasons; he eyed the excessively-large green ruck with a hip-strap on his back.
If things went bad, he'd only get one shot at bringing this guy down without joining him.
HOLY CRAP I CAN'T EVEN THAT SEASON FINALE WAS AMAZINGLY AWFUL AND PERFECT OMG NO THIS IS TOO GOOD!
HOLY SHIT RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
You do realize I nearly mistook Gabel for a walker, right?
Okay random thing
I'm watching The actual show and
NOOOOOOOOOOO!
I'm screaming! I paused it and I'm scared to start it back up AHHHHHHHH! THIS IS NOT OKAY WHY
WHY!?
WHY IS EVERYONE IN THE WALKING DEAD CRAZY OR PLAIN STUPID
LIKE AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!
One reason to stop watching zombie-flicks and just roleplay it.
The drive 'into Wilmington' encountered a roadblock, literally. And a quick glance beyond it confirmed that going into a major city in an open and slow-moving vehicle would not be the best of ideas. So he took an on-ramp to the deserted highway and decided to check the surrounding suburbs as he downed another pair of asprin to make the intense pain in his skull subside for a few more minutes.
He always thought it was ironic that these chronic headaches were more painful and debilitating than even getting his ankle lacerated down to the bone. He could not afford to cower into the fetal position, not here, not just because it hurt to look at things. So his solution was drugs, and lots of them.
He heard over his radio something about a safehouse somewhere back in Wilmington. No chance in hell he'd make it there alone; didn't even know how old it was, for all he knew it could be a trap. He didn't bother to answer.
Following the highway he soon came to a tiny suburb named 'Bear'. From here he started his house-to-house sweep, Mosin at ready with bayonet attached; it was cumbersome and ungainly, but it gave him plenty more options for defending himself or pushing through a mob than a claw-hammer. Probably along the third house he saw a little girl tugging at a body, blood everywhere.
His book-learned tactical know-how kicked up a notch as he took aim with the rifle, just as she looked through the busted window like a frightened feral-animal, then called-out "D-daddy?".
Confused, he decided to speak-up: "Shouldn't you be someplace safe, girl?" He asked, while shifting his aim towards the window.
He always thought it was ironic that these chronic headaches were more painful and debilitating than even getting his ankle lacerated down to the bone. He could not afford to cower into the fetal position, not here, not just because it hurt to look at things. So his solution was drugs, and lots of them.
He heard over his radio something about a safehouse somewhere back in Wilmington. No chance in hell he'd make it there alone; didn't even know how old it was, for all he knew it could be a trap. He didn't bother to answer.
Following the highway he soon came to a tiny suburb named 'Bear'. From here he started his house-to-house sweep, Mosin at ready with bayonet attached; it was cumbersome and ungainly, but it gave him plenty more options for defending himself or pushing through a mob than a claw-hammer. Probably along the third house he saw a little girl tugging at a body, blood everywhere.
His book-learned tactical know-how kicked up a notch as he took aim with the rifle, just as she looked through the busted window like a frightened feral-animal, then called-out "D-daddy?".
Confused, he decided to speak-up: "Shouldn't you be someplace safe, girl?" He asked, while shifting his aim towards the window.
>tackle-glomps Remipa
I'm not co-GM, because I didn't want *that* on my shoulders again, but I'd say you're a shoe-in with that app.
I'm not co-GM, because I didn't want *that* on my shoulders again, but I'd say you're a shoe-in with that app.
<Snipped quote by Foster>
I don't know if that was covered. I DONT REMEMBER I'VE SPENT TOO MUCH TIME IN THE OFFLINE WORLD I AM LOSING MY TOUCH! D:
Video reference
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