Lady Absinthia

🦄 After Miranda - A Firefly Rp - Season 1 (Completed)

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Three had exited the ship this day, two of which that had been members of the crew for years. Many more had died over the course of recent events. They had even lost a ship. Despite all that, the Captain still had a crew. A moody but dependable Second, what her brother was the Captain still didn't know but they could figure that out later. There was a medical officer. A Pilot who could couple as an engineer in a pinch. Some sassy lady who the Captain felt was going to fit in just fine. A Security Officer. And even a Barber. Not to mention one more in the form of a frozen popcicle. Yeah that would have to be addressed at a later time. And then of course there was the ship - The Prometheus. Aptly named.

A wide eyed blonde Viking pulled his knees up to his chest and watched with excitement as the pretty lady came to the bridge and took point behind the pilot, her hand resting on the back of the chair. "Let get the fuck outta here," she said as she found solid footing for take off. Cyril bounced in his chair as the ship lifted off and gained speed, breaking atmo quickly. They were off and in the black in no time. Cyril loved being out there, at least in a ship, for now, because his sister was there, and the pretty lady. Thankfully he seemed too excited to talk to Jericho right then.

Down in the medical bay, the Doctor was prepping the body of the deceased Preacher so he was ready to be ejected into the black once they reached a point where the Captain wanted to do a funeral. Maybe she wouldn't. Maybe somethings were best left unsaid. There really were only two left on the ship that truly knew the man. Sometimes silence was the better option. Between the Captains mood and that new womans mouth he had no doubt that any funeral would be colorful. It would lead to drinking, drinking in the black could lead to many many bad things.

Cyril slowly climbed out of the chair and walked further forward, reaching out and touching the window. A small break in the steel so that they could see the 'Verse beyond their home. "It'th tho big," he said in awe. He had seen it before but it didn't matter. Every time he got to see the vastness he looked at it with Childlike wonder. It was new again. Perhaps there was something to be said for his condition. Innocence was bliss at times.

Anisa was slightly envious. She remembered the first time she flew in The Vengeance. She felt the same. Yet things were different back then. Dorothy was with her as was Jackson. She glanced back over her shoulder, half hoping that Dorothy was standing there waiting for orders like she always had been but no. She was on the docks. With her sister and the boy toy. The docks would be bustling right then. People running here and there, not knowing what had just gone down. Maybe they would find a ship. Maybe they would be okay. Maybe they would see each other one day again. No one ever knew what the 'Verse had in store.

They were headed for Babylon. While the moon wasn't named for the story from Earth Old, it was named for a Town that was named from the story. The town was the stuff of legend and nightmares. Out beyond what most people knew, settled by people that no one spoke about. Very much like where they were headed now. To the rim, the edge of the known 'Verse. To Babylon. What awaited them there, no one knew. Well maybe someone did...

"Captain... We have a problem....

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Season 2 To Come

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🦄 Machiavellian Masquerade - Chapter 1

Required Roll 9/13/18: Read IC - Morose's post - then - Anyone that hasn't done their 1d20 roll in chat yet - for the roll I called for BEFORE you post again (Yesterdays roll call) - Need those post haste today please. (Message repeats in Discord)

🦄 Machiavellian Masquerade - Chapter 1

Required Roll 9/12/18: Read IC before you look at Chat and before anyone posts after Morose, pm me for a required roll until I state otherwise from this point forward. Thank you.

🦄 Machiavellian Masquerade - Chapter 1

@Darth Shadow Need you in chat.

🦄 Machiavellian Masquerade - Chapter 1

Mr. Titian

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Location: Shadowell Manor: Chair 5
Skills: Perception
Hit Points: 4
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It seemed that there were offers for a seat from more than just him. Glancing to his right he spotted the woman with the blue hair and grinned. "Now that is a tough choice, even for me," he said with a chuckle as he scratched the back of his neck. As the new comer arrived he glanced at him and shrugged as he walked past. "Better grab a seat, they're going fast." It was a rather obvious remark and the man sat himself down in the second to last seat.

He was abandoned for less green pastures from the looks of it. "Couldn't make it through the gate on your own and you want to hold another in your lap? Now that's some funny shit," he laughed with the brightest of smiles. Shaking his head and slapping his knee. There was a long line of repressed chortles as the man got comfortable and rested one ankle over a knee. Granted his attentions were towards Kindle as the seat she wanted was taken and she had to start coming back his way. She wasn't coming back to him, she found another seat.

His brow quirked a bit as he watched. The dogs barking perking his ears. Glancing towards the gate he took notice of yet another arriving but it seemed all the seats were taken currently. "Well ain't this a hoot," he said under his voice as he scratched his chin, watching and waiting to see just what was going to happen with this bit of circumstance.

🦄 Machiavellian Masquerade - Chapter 1

𝕐our 𝕆𝕆ℂ ℕotes

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Update has been posted. Same as last time - some of you will get pm's, some of you won't. I will be sending them through your original PM from me MM Start Post - if you deleted it, I suggest you undelete it. Do remember, if you have not replied since the previous update you will have to include the notes in PM for both if you receive 2.

Edit: Pm's have been sent to those that are receiving them this round.

🦄 Machiavellian Masquerade - Chapter 1

𝕆ne 𝔹rick 𝕊hy 𝕆f 𝔸 𝕃oad

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There was a long look given to the late arriver. "That you are son." It was a simple enough statement to the obvious as Cas turned away and shook his head somewhat. The carriages that remained behind were being tended to, as were the horses. All in quick order on the outside of the gate. Leo took the mans invitation and waved him in. Everything outside the gates seemed to be in order, inside the gate however it was a completely different scenario. What was starting to unfold could hardly be described as being calm.

Seemed there was a bit of an uproar about seats and even one man taking out his frustrations on Owen. Owen narrowed his eyes slightly but gave a tight vexed smiled. "But of course m'ord, anythan' for ya m'ord," he said sweetly as he began to sit back down. Leo glanced over at Owens words.

"Owen, don'tyabe..." he said in his squeak of a voice. Owens glare turned towards Leo. Mouthing something else behind the invitations Owen sat down slowly and gave the biggest grin with a bit of a chuckle. One dog and then another started barking until they all were. Cas looked over at a portly man with long greasy black hair who was tending to one of the carriages. They seemed to exchange some words and a nod between them.

What happened next? Well, something just has to be addressed. The fate of one...

GOTCHA!

What will your tombstone say?

Okay, it's simple - make your own Tombstone. What will yours say?
Make one at Custom Tombstone Builder and share, or just type it up here.

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🦄 Soulless Regency - Merged With T.S.

March 24th, 1823

Scotland

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Port Annan: The port city was bustling. They were used to ships coming in from the west and deliveries coming in from the north. That was common but today ships were coming in from the South. That wasn't normal. This was a trading city, and a small one. This wasn't a dock side getaway location. There were more people than normal. It seemed that several ships had docked from the south today carrying passengers trying to get away from the Soulless attacks to the south. Word was they were spreading and heading north. This could mean trouble at the ports and borders.

The door of the tavern inn was pushed open and Lord Rutherford looked around at the crowded room, Millicent stepped in behind him. She looked like she had spent the evening out in the elements. Her hair was down and covering part of her facial features. She was glad of this considering everything that had transpired. A man at the bar looked over. "Top of the mornin' to ya, I be Nigel, owner of Teriny Inn, what can I do fer ya?" he asked as he snapped his clean up rag against the bar top and then tucked it in his belt.

"A meal for three would be grand," Rutherford said.

"Oh yes, right away, we are a bit busier than normal but please have a seat and I will have the missus fix you up something right quick," he said as he motioned towards the only left open table by the window looking out to the busy street beyond. Rutherford nodded and lead Millicent over to a seat. He sat with his back to the window, leaving the seat at the end of the table open and placing Millicent across from him. She wasn't going to complain, at least she could look beyond Richard and see the world outside.

Kirkpatrick House (Annan): Turning the fumbling father tripped over his own two feet and nearly rammed his head into the banister before catching himself. "Yes, afternoon Miss O'Connor, I hope you are settling in right nice and that the family is treating you well," he said as he fumbled with his hat nervously and dropped it. Picking it up he knocked the back of his head on the banister.

"Would you get your bumbling buffoon of a self into the tea room!" Lady Kirkpatrick bellowed from down the hall. Callum cringed a bit and looked over at Maeve, trying to smile before he darted off on his lanky legs. He didn't get far before he tripped, again! On the edge of the runner on the floor and slid straight face first into the tea room. "How in the name of god are you still breathing?"

"Grace of God M'Lady," he said as he crawled over to a chair and up into it. The table was set for tea with snacks available lined out on the white linen. "Oh my, would you like a scone?"

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England

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London: Oh this was nice, very nice. Such a grand view. The world like this when one was so small. No sleep, no sleep would be expand and expand would mean rip and tear of bags. Heavy too heavy. Would slow them down. Awake, must stay awake. No problem. Far too glad to fall asleep. This was exciting. Traveling on a horse without having to ride a horse. He hated riding horses. Mighty steeds were far better but over long distances, mighty steeds grew tired. Dieter, his ferret not his brother, would grow very tired. Could not have that.

Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, one hand rested along the sewn edge before he dipped down and started rummaging through the saddle bag. "Oh this is nice, yes, I could borrow. Not steal. Borrow. Yes, borrow I am and borrow I must be. Stealers make mad, borrows make glad. Always glad. Vlad must be glad, not mad," he said to himself before climbing back to the top of the bag. Standing on Dieters, his ferret not his brother, back and looking around. Holding up a sunflower seed. "Vlad the Glad, borrow this I can?" he asked. Borrowers asked, he'd give back, when done. Eventually. It was a might seed for the mighty steed.

The Sea: There was quite the crew on board, one small girl rushing towards them. Her fiery red hair stark against the sky behind her. "I 'ots ya," she said as she wrapped the rough dark blanket around Collette. "Where's da other one?" she asked in a thick Irish accent.

"Marco's 'ot him," the man that had rescued Collette said as he jumped over the railing and onto the deck of the ship. Shaking out his long dark hair he gave look towards the others before kneeling down. "Breathe lass, ain't nothin' 'onna harm ye here," he said as he cupped her cheeks and turned her head gently this way and that. "Just be checkin' ya, makin' sure ye ain't toos bad offs."

"Captains comin'," the man who had yelled for the blanket said before clearing his throat and taking a step back. The crowd that had formed parted as the winds kicked up. The heavy sound of boots could be heard over waves and the wind. The figure was slender with thigh high dark boots that covered the majority of tanned leather fitted trousers before giving away to back silk and a basket hilted sword on a curvy hip. Bright blue eyes on a stern feminine face could be seen as her oceans deep blue and black hair whisped around her, silver streaks framing around her features.

"We gots a breather Cap, and Marco be brin'in' anuder through the strai'hts soon enough," the one checking Collette said without looking back. The captain didn't say anything, just walking over to the rail and looking towards the sea. Looking back at Collette he took her hands. "Come on lass, lets be gettin' ya yer sealegs. Steady now, Silvio got ya."

Notes:

Captain looks like this - Meet one of my oldest characters (Over 20 years RPing)

This is the closest FC I could find - Can't tell me this OUAT character wasn't inspired by that art piece

The Road North: The winds kept kicking up around them as the storm raged on where it was, continuing to travel in the same direction. As they reached the tree line it would be hard to see through the vegetation and pace would have to slow to work ones way through it on horseback or foot. Further back the trees were on fire and burning white hot, the smoke trailing up to the sky. The heat was intense, even twenty feet from the flames that crawled up the trunks of the trees. There was a loud crackling sound that erupted from inside one of the trunks. It sounded like thunder from a direct lightning strike it was so loud. Mary's horse held his ground thankfully even though startled. He would not buck them off.

One of the trees began to fall but once again thankfully they were not hurt. It fell in the opposite direction but the shake of the ground was intense and the sound of it crashing even more so. The fire continued to burn but held only to those few trees burned, the flora beneath them didn't but it did smolder. Could have been that way for many reasons - for explainable and unexplained.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

@Remipa Awesome Okay, got your message on Discord - there was still an issue under Extras. I went ahead and fixed that wall of green text... The CS below is good to go. Just click view raw to get the code.

Hunter Monroe

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Hunter James Monroe

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Character Summary

Name: Hunter James Monroe
Aliases: Grayjoy
Age: 25
Birthday: June first
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Birthplace: Benton, New York
Location: Outskirts of Buffalo New York
Gender: Male
Major/Minor: N/A
Occupation: Scrap Yard, New York State National Guard (Private first class )
Languages: English, poor Russian

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Appearance

Height: 5’10”
Weight: 118 pounds
Build: Wiry
Eyes: Grey/Silver
Hair: Long, dark brown, and poorly groomed
Skin Tone: Hunter is extremely pale
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Scars, cuts, and burns can be seen across both hands, lashings slash marks can be seen across his torso, as well as two bullet wounds, one in his right shoulder, and one just below his rib cage.

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Psychology

Hard working * Shady * cool headed * Twisted humor * Practical * Morally challenged

Sexuality:
Asexual
Relationship Status:
Single
Personality:
Hunter is a complicated character to figure out, when with people he sees as his own he tends to be very kind and polite with them, and is always willing to offer a helping hand. He is always smiling, though at times he he tends to do a slight smirk, as if he is thinking about a really funny joke that only he gets, which is very likely. When he talks, he tends to have a train of thought that can’t stay focused for the life of him unless the situation or whoever he is talking to sets him back on the right track. IN a bad situation he is always ready to protect what he deems as his people

Hunter has several issues with morality that has come up since the apocalypse. The most noticeable, even to people he is on good terms with, is that the things he tends to find funny tend to be pretty messed up. Those things include crushed bodies, fire, explosives, car wrecks, or most things that can be found in Happy time Tree friends. A major issue he has struggled with as a coping mechanism, is that he has a mental switch in his head, that when things start becoming a challenge, he turns off his morality in favor for practicality. He turns himself into a brutal killer, sometimes for the better, sometimes just to keep himself alive at the cost of others.

Habits:
Gripping potential weapons

Ready to get out

Hobbies:
Target practice

Poor music

Fears:

• Crossing that blurry moral line.
• People in general
• Being alone
• Telling reality from his own thoughts
• Losing his family

Likes:

• Staying in control
• Being around people
• Bullets.
• Animals in general
• Sweets.
• Explosions and fire.

Dislikes:

• Taxes
• Making moral choices
• People being idiots.
• Summer
• People who think they are better then him.
• decaffeinated coffee.

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Cards On The Table

Pre Outbreak Skills:

• Scavenging
• Shotguns
• Improvised engineering
• Automatic weapons
• Animal friend

Post Outbreak Skills:

• Hand to hand combat
• Stealth
• Pistols
• Axeing skill
• Basic explosives
• Basic first aid
• Situational awareness

Current Supplies:

• Current Clothing - Hunter is wearing heavy cargo pants, a t-shirt, a hoodie lined with mesh and ducktape, combat boots, a scarf, worn fingerless gloves, a belt with several pocket compartments on it, a medium sized backpack, and a dark camouflage ball cap.
• As a spare outfit he also has a warn set of camouflage fatigues in his bag.
• M4 Carbine

  
• Pump action sawed off

  
• An old 1911 pistol

  
• Hatchet

  
• Izibell the Rottweiler
• About a day and a half of water. No food.
• Duct tape, because it’s always nice to have.
• A decent quality fuel-less lighter.
• Twine, a lot of twine. It makes a great improvised fuse in a pinch. Also, never know when someone needs to be tied up, or something. Either way, options are great.
• Ammo, 2 full clips of 30 round 5.56 NATO for the M4, and a box of about 14 bullets. 1 full clip of 7 rounds for the 1911, and 23 spare bullets crammed into the same box as the 5.56 NATO. 30 20 gauge shotgun shells.

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History

Your First Walker Encounter:

It was getting cold, though Hunter didn’t mind that, he had grown up working outside in the winter time, and in the summer, though winter was easier for him since there were heaters and jackets. Hard work also helped with that. What he minded was his guard unit being activated with no heads up for a mass evacuation. He didn’t even know any of these people, they had dragged him across all of New York state to help with evacuations, and have been moving him non stop. He hated it. This time though things seemed off, this time there were no buses from other towns passing through to the refugee camps. Which meant that their evacuation site was the last on this route, meaning they were the closest to the danger.

That alone made Hunter uneasy, it didn’t help that he was stationed at this town of 7000 people to evacuate, but it was only his squad here, and some local law enforcement who were too busy in town getting people to the school to be moved. So protecting the school was his squad, while 3 of them made sure the roads were cleared with one of the hummers. That left 8 men, one Humvee, and a flatbed. His unit was to spread out, to give the impression that there were more of them then it appeared. Seemed to be working so far. Civilians were operating the buses, they belonged to the district anyways. He could hear his sergeant on the flatbed using his megaphone letting people know to stay calm, and that they needed to not rush, there were enough buses for everyone. That was a lie, there were 20 buses in this district, each one held about 70 people. Do that math, it’s not 7000. Granted, the buses were meant to come back, but if the infected arrived before then they were to halt arriving, and we were to hunker down until a larger force could come in and clear the area.

The lines were long, and the people were scared. God dammit, why didn’t they get more buses? Was it that hard to grab some from successful evacuations? Or were they being used elsewhere and Hunter just got the unlucky batch? Or was the high up just not risking too much, out of fear of losing everything for this little town? Seems like something they would do. “Keep it moving people, calm and steady. One bag per person, carry on size only please.” He muttered that same line again. “There are enough buses for everyone, so please, stay calm, and don't worry.” He hated lying to them, but what was he supposed to do? Lie to them and cause a riot?

Though, if one did break out, his unit was ordered to evacuate, and leave everyone here to fend for themselves. The top brass knew that one squad was not enough to calm a crowd of scared people, and if all else failed, they would rather have up to par squad then a deadly riot with no military survivors. That is when he heard the scream, right in the middle of his thought process his sergeant started shouting. “O'Doyle! McCarther! Guard the buses! Johnson, Miller, get these people to the gym and lock the doors! Anyone who can’t get on a bus get inside! Everyone else, with me!” Hunter chambered his S.A.W. ( Squad automatic weapon ) and followed his sergeant across the crowd, they were screaming now, they were panicked, they were ready to kill to save their lives.

They had landed themselves in the middle of the worst without realizing it, before they knew it people were being attacked by one another, blood was going everywhere, so much screaming. Some even, eating each other. Some with limbs missing, attacking as hard as if they were a annoyed bear. Hunter leveled his weapon and took aim, but he couldn’t bring himself to shoot. Later he would tell his sergeant it was because he had never fired his gun in the field, truth be told, he wasn’t sure if what he was looking at was real or not. He has had issues in the past, but none quite as real as this, but he still couldn’t bring himself to say that it was real. He could hear the voice in the back of his head telling him to shoot, even when the attacker started getting up and walking to Hunter. But he couldn’t do it.

“BANG BANG BANG!” A rifle went off, sending round after round into the attacker, until one eventually clipped her in the head and she dropped. Hunter looked at the person who shot, but in the craziness of the moment he wasn’t sure who it was other then someone in his unit. He just remembered the words “Shoot the dead ones!”. So this was real, it wasn’t in his head.

He took aim with his S.A.W. and fired short burst. There was about a five second rule when it came to firing the thing, but it was hard to keep track of seconds while shooting, so his sergeant had told Hunter a trick to keep pace when firing the belt fed machine gun. “Die Mother Fucker Die. Die Mother Fucker Die!” It worked for the moment, and the timing was close enough that saying it once was enough to get the job done. There was so much going on though he had the gun going almost constantly.

By the end of the night his unit was at half strength, the evacuation had failed, and Hunter was not sure if he had killed a living human or not. All he knew was that they had evacuated a lot less people than planned, and there was a rather high body count.

History Before Outbreak:

Before the outbreak Hunter grew up on a family scrap yard, or “The Compound” as his family called it. On the several dozen acre property lived about a dozen different family members. It was simple, yet physically demanding work. In the summer time it would double as a light farm raising small animals like dogs and chickens, in the winter, it was mostly heavy lifting and machine work to get ready for the warmer months. Another part of the job was keeping aggressive wild life away from his home, due to his family not being in the best of financial states, thy went cheap and easy, shotguns. Easy to use, ton of kick, nothing recovers in that effective range.

At a young age Hunter started seeing things that at first he accepted as normal, but as time went on, and he noticed he was the only one seeing them, he started to become scared. As he aged he was able to ignore them, and eventually try to think logically to determine if what he was seeing was real, or fiction. Mostly, he knew what should be real, and based on reactions of others, he could determine of he was right. Because of this he became very good at hiding his emotions.

In school Hunter struggled to do well, he was good with his hands but in a school environment his attention rarely held. He was able to hold a passing grade, but if asked about he, he would just claim he is an excellent bullshitter, and move on. Due to his lack of being open about what he really felt, he tended to become closeted as a person, which made it harder to work with his family, his parents most of all. In his late teens Hunter would get into arguments that normally ended with something being broken, and at least one person leaving the Compound.

When Hunter turned 19 he ran off to join the army, and found himself in the New York State National Guard reserve. He spent several weeks in basic training, and soon enough he was a fully enlisted soldier. Though due to personal complications, he was attached to a reserve unit, and soon returned home. When he returned, it started with arguments on why he had left, and a decent amount of tears. This time, everyone just huddled up and talked though, and attempted to sort things out. Hunter told his parents he would leave the guard as soon as he got the chance, his unit was activated days later to handle riots and evacuations.

History Since Outbreak:

When the last evacuation Hunter was apart of failed his unit was called back to Buffalo where his company was assigned to protect the local refugee center. Or as Hunter tended to call it, another glorified football field in need of getting better uses out of it. For now, it housed more people then it was originally built for, and had only a couple doors that could still open. Just like the evacuation before, the stadium was eventually overran and the survivors inside were trapped or killed off. By the time Hunter and what was left of his company made it out, with what few civilians they could save, they had a choice, leave the doors open so more survivors could get out, or lock them and prevent well over several hundred infected loose in the area.

Hunter was the one to lock the doors, and bar them shut. After that, him and what survivors were left made their way to the reserve base his unit was supposed to be stationed from originally. Once there the captain on duty determined that with the top brass no longer responding, and the supplies dwindling, that the soldiers were to remove the civilian populace from the base. Despite the protest from the soldiers at the base, Hunter included, they eventually caved in. Determining that there wasn’t enough supplies for them all. The only thing they agreed on was giving them all enough supplies for two days, and some weapons so they could secure their own area for a while. But they would need to fend for themselves.

As expected, this didn’t go well. With there being about 80 soldiers left, and about 1300 civilians, the numbers were drastic. Hunter to this date can’t be sure what happened, but he did figure out something important, a few soldiers with automatic weapons can clear out a large civilian group without weapons rather fast. He also is pretty sure they didn’t kill them all, but he does know for sure that his weapon fired into the crowd, and would have killed them eventually. The Captain called this a success for a list of reasons Hunter didn’t care to hear. He just had the saying “Die Mother Fucker Die” running in his head over and over again.

As the weeks went on, his unit started getting more aggressive to people they met, most soldiers who refused to partake in what was happening either left, or got shot trying to stop it. Hunter just went along because he was too scared to do anything else. After his unit became aggressive enough to shoot people on sight for supplies, there were 26 active members, the captain included. When Hunter eventually snapped, he took his combat knife and a fire axe, and killed all 26 active members in their sleep, or while they took guard duty. Picking them off one at a time. By the time Hunter came back to reality, he wasn’t sure what had happened at first, just that there were a lot of dead people. When he finally understood what he did, he felt guilty about the murders, but more satisfied that they wouldn’t drag him down with them anymore.

As time passed, Hunter found his way to the stadium where he had locked the infected and survivors alike inside, and eventually found enough fuel to light it on fire. Though it took what seemed like days for the thing to actually catch, he felt better knowing that he had destroyed one of the main causes of guilt for him. Next step for him was to go home, though once he arrived there, his family seemed to have vanished from thin air. No one was at the scrap yard, or at other family homes, and there were no bodies to indicate they had died. Dead or undead.

Hunter would eventually make his way south to an old family vacation spot to try and find them. On his way, he had tried to help people, he had robbed from people, he had killed people, and he attempted to justify it all to himself by saying he needed to get to his family. Though it rarely worked. By the time he made it to the vacation spot, there were no signs of his family. He had spent days looking around the area, even stockpiling weapons to attempt to kill out the infected, hoping to get some closer at the very least. All to no luck. What he did find was a Rottweiler who he would become close friends with.

When all his attempts had failed, and he eventually lost purpose, he started making his way north again to go home. He decided that once he got there, he would find a comfortable spot, have a nice good drink, and most likely blow his own brains out. He wondered if he would actually go through with it if given the chance, though Izibell the Rotty would make it hard. He needed some purpose, and going home was the best one he had to pick from.

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Extras

Character Quote:

• "Have you ever seen a belt fed machine gun rip apart a human body? I have, and let me tell you, it's funnier then you might think."
• "I find myself in this position at times, where I am lost. For the most part I can solve it with a good task to work on, otherwise my mind tends to go to places I would rather not think about."
• "This Is My BOOM Stick!"
• "Have you ever noticed that in movies where people die it's much less emotional then when dogs died? A human dies people shrug it off, a dog dies, everyone loses their shit. Truth be told I am totally one of those people."

Theme Song:
Low, By Cracker

How Many Walkers Have You Killed: Hunter does a short sarcastic laugh. “That’s an odd question, directly I don't think I could have counted. Indirectly… Probably enough to be called insane.”

How Many People Have You Killed: "Again, directly, I couldn’t answer that accurately. Some of the time is fuzzy, and the early says were so crazy I couldn’t tell you. Indirectly, enough to be problem for those who don’t understand context."

Why: “Context, great! Fuck.. no one ever asks why. The first time was because when my gun went off into the crowd of undead, I still can't be sure that all of them were undead. Even to this day. The next time because someone needed to lock the door, because if one of us didn’t do it, everyone that had survived so far would be dead. Not just those still inside. From that point on, it was a matter of determining who is good for the world, and who isn’t. I carried out justice that no one had the guts to, and I solved it from there. No, that’s a lie… I’ve done things… I told myself I needed to, but did I really?”

Anything Else:
Hunter knows he isn't a leader, he knows he depends on others to do the thinking, and he considers himself a tool, though he will call out anyone who things they are leading wrong.

Me forgetting then reading over and over then fixing

roleplayerguild.com/posts/4738916

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