Mole

𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒗𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 - 𝒕𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅

_{GM comment to Co-GM: 9.21.20.13:06 CST}

I have my helmet, but I don't have my head.

Will Complete:
	·Factions - Military
	·Add levels to Flora & Fauna
	·Making sense of the Flora & Fauna
		A scale of infection level and likelihood of passing on infection/mutation 
		I have an idea for why corn, wheat and rye aren't used more for food in the countryside, which will be partly due to rainouts & etc. A measure of nuclear storms and how a campaign will survive one is needed, as well.
	·Pictures for the Factions
	·Interest Check

Completed:
	·Categorizing Flora & Fauna	

Needed:
	·Maps
	·Technology
	·Beliefs/Cults

F A C T I O N S : H U M A N^WIP

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F A C T I O N : Scavengers N I C K N A M E S : Scavvys, Scaps, Tykes A G E S : 1 0 - 1 5 H E A L T H : H U M A N I T Y : +1 for every bond -1 for every enemy Scavengers are the largest faction in the toxic wasteland. This faction is typically found through out all of the waste, blurring the lines between themselves and the Nomads, their closest relative. However, the strongest concentration of "Scavs" are found in and around the abandoned cities where they make use of trashed and forgotten technology, scrapped metals and plastics and the natural verticalities of the the world's remains. Scavengers will do whatever within their means to survive, even if that means killing and consuming one of their own. Seldom alone, they are usually observed in groups, banding together to find strength in numbers against any and all shared foes. However, these groups are easily scattered by in-house duplicity. Commonalities are cannibalism, extreme violence, possession and slavery in the more developed "Scavy" camps.

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F A C T I O N : Metahumans N I C K N A M E S : Crawlers, Mutants, Beasts A G E S : 8 - 1 8 H E A L T H : H U M A N I T Y : +2 for every bond -? for every frenzy Metahumans are the second largest faction in the post-apocalyptic world. They are often found in the forest or countryside, scattered alongside the wasteland's various toxic flora and fauna. Often referred to as "Crawlers," metahumans are able to writhe through the terrain as natural predators without detection and can survive with ease through the barren desert. They are known for their beastly instincts and deformities, which sometimes leave them less than human looking. Some roam in small packs, but most live solitary lives. Regardless, metahumans are aggressive and do not trust other creatures easily. These "Mutants" are hostile carnivores, and unfortunately, their intelligence is lacking and learning new skills is often difficult for them. They also have quite a temper, can trigger a raging frenzy in them. Trusting ones are known to make habitation with the Nomads.

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F A C T I O N : Nomads N I C K N A M E S : A G E S : 1 0 - 1 8 H E A L T H : H U M A N I T Y : -1 for every human meal Surviving off of the natural land, Nomads are a rare faction to be found. They wander alongside the countryside, forests and in the cities. Sometimes they are alone, and sometimes they are with other family members. They are also known for their skills in taming animals, cooking plant-based recipes and mixing potions. Nomads are also a faction heavily influenced by different cults, beliefs and traditions passed down by their families. These beliefs very from group to group. Due to their peaceful nature, as well, they refuse to join the Scavvy Camps or Military regime, which makes them subject to being an easy source of food. Often times, they are mistaken for "Scavvys," which gives them a layer of protection. As well, they can get protection by mingling with metahumans. Unfortunately, their way of life has given way to the harshness of the lands as they slowly lose a sense of humanity to the infected world.

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F A C T I O N : Military N I C K N A M E S : Angels, Gray Ghosts, Metalheads A G E S : 10 - 50 H E A L T H : 5 for Child 10 for Adult H U M A N I T Y : +1 for every bond -1 for every child kill P E R S O N A L I T Y : The military are the rarest and most technologically advanced faction. Their loyalties are the highest, and forming a bond with them is easy. Due to their military upbringing, their constitutions are the weakest when living outside their posts, which makes them the least likely to survive when on their own. Often times, military personnel are mislead by their leaders and end up disappearing during their scouts or hunts. However, they have high intelligence and can learn skills more readily than the other factions, when in a group setting.

𝓣ℎ𝑒 𝓕𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝒻 𝓐𝑙𝑦𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑎 & 𝓕𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡.

𝓣he trees are always listening.

Most of them are on our side, but there are trees that would betray us to them...

... you know who I mean...

𝓣witching his smile under the Imperial mustache, the Professor bared a few crooked teeth. They were yellower in nature, “Ah, my dear. Always a pleasure to see a colleague cleaning his or her clock.” He narrowed his eyes at Lord Finnegan. The redness of his own face blushed with some boyish emotion, trying to skirt tail any unnecessary conversation that may direct him into a position of being ungentlemanly. There was a whim of test in him that would always exist, in the classroom and out of the classroom, especially for his students who survived his brutal examinations.

Lord Finnegan was definitely one of them, having a permanent fixation with experimenting with the human mind in one way or another, “To answer Lady Alyssana, I am looking into the core of the human body at the moment. Magic and fire. It's complete mayhem in my laboratory. Lots of explosions. Lots of fun. Woooh,” his hands went upwards and jingled his fingers, “You two should come by sometime. But please, knock before entering. I have some top-secret information that I would not want getting out, but...”

The professor held up his fist with a little gesture that meant as much as it meant as little as it did to anyone who may understand or misunderstand the motion, “Is that not the truth about all of us?” He made a merry giggle as if he was eluding to something or another. It was what he did during class quite often, as if he was waiting for someone or something to happen upon his hybrid-thoughts of bio-steam mechanics and make more sense of it. Lord Finnegan had the notion his wife was probably at wit ends with him because she was never around him, even when he went out in public, but at this very moment, he was starting to wonder if the ring on his finger meant what it actually meant.

“Our brothers are also here, conducting their own studies if that solves any mysteries you may be unnecessarily trying to solve. I assure you, there's no funny business going on. Nothing in comparison to your own fun. We shall have to stop by soon enough.” Lord Finnegan changed the subject as he listed his wrist, twisting it to see the time on his watch. Not much of anything had past, but the bookshelves seemed to have aged quite a bit just listening to the professor talk about himself. He had barely spoken a word, and yet the movement of time seemed to have warped.

There was a legend that the library was indeed a living, breathing entity. Its spirit was alive and well within the center of the building. The upkeep was different and strange, and there were so many rumors running around the large facility that no one ever knew who or what to believe about it. Even the employees themselves had their own stories, but it had become such a lore to the city to make-up stories about the library in order to draw even more attention to it, even if something had happened, it was hard to believe because of all the rumors. Lord Finnegan believed none of them and pegged the situation on his mindset on this morning's toxin, and the confusing aroma steaming from beneath Professor Mitchell's undershirt.

“Oh my, yes, the brothers,” Professor Mitchell continued in his merriment, “We will all be delighted to see you. I promise you that, but shhhh” his fist, let out his pointer finger and pressed it to his plump lip, “Don't let anyone or anything know that you're invited. They may get the wrong idea...” His smile widened, “As if they too are invited.” He straightened his posture and pulled on his coat, “W-wery well, you two. I will be on my way, then.” His body made a small bow and straightened itself again as his eyes shifted about for someone or something and continued his way through the maze. There was a slight gaunt in his walk, and Lord Finnegan could not help feel the brows on his own face weaken against a faded smile.

“So, yes, books on the number five,” Lord Finnegan managed after clearing his throat, “I am delving back into my studies of Phi and the Divine Ratio's relation to flora. Upon further looking at my own home library, I realized my collection is far from complete. It's a shame, really. Someone with such a successful operation should have a better grasp on his studies. Fortunately, I have everything memorized. However, I have to begin teaching Walter somehow.” There was a price for teaching Walter. He was not sure what it was, but it was there. It was an emptying of something in the back of his mind. Whether it be gone or not was hard for him to grasp as being of good or bad consequence.

𝓣ℎ𝑒 𝓕𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝒻 𝓐𝑙𝑦𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑎 & 𝓕𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡.

“𝓨es, there's a couple authors that have released new things,
including one that published some new material on the Wasteland cities.”

“𝓐h, the Wasteland cities,” Lord Finnegan made a serious tone and drew in a small breath as he watched the woman. Her change of demeanor was always a delight to watch, but he found himself neutralizing the situation as opposed to provoking it like Lord Christopher or Walter would try to do. He wanted to show more of something, but within himself, he still could not find it and smiled nonetheless. He was unsure of how he came across because at that moment, he felt to give her his most true self, a serious natured human. It was also true that he was not at all as familiar with the library as he ought, and therefore, he mustered up a small smile to give the woman. Although, the smile turned more into a smirk of sorts.

He enjoyed the cunning parts of Lady Alyssana. Her guard was still easily seen, but with her whimsical charm being shown to him for the first time in what seemed like ages, he felt of utmost need or perhaps an untamed desire or dare even both strings pulled his study into something of all due respect. Therefore, his attitude was more reverent than usual, but Lady Alyssana was too fixated on the spiraling stairs and the ladders and the smell of books that needed more minding and less modeling.

She even chatted away about things that ended up going in one ear and out the other, no matter how hard he wanted to mind her. It was a shame and a slight deflation to his manliness that he could not take it all in, and he wanted to slow her down at some point. He thought several bad thoughts of potions and elixirs that could conjure several such happenings and scolded himself heavily for thinking anything against her. The guilt set in, and he saw himself lagging even further with keeping up with her. Part of him wanted to stop her, but nothing in him could prevent her from continuing.

The feeling of being just a pawn crept over him, and he allowed himself to enjoy it. He knew what she had gone through, and as much as he felt as if he was being used, he knew that she never truly would use him. After all the times that he had ever manipulated a woman to his own will meant far nothing to letting Lady Alyssana steal all of his attention with such a blur of feminine inquiries on such heavy subjects. Her smarts and wits were outstanding, which always proved themselves heavily lauded at the Institute. Even now, right in front of him, her words were dressed in scholarly approval that not any one person could wear as an evening gown and look delightful.

Lady Alyssana wore her intelligence with a special wisdom that invoked a beautiful scent. I wished to capture that scent, but having it be so rarely given gave it all the more value. He enjoyed his time, and wondered little about their brothers, and suddenly, she was done lecturing him like the schoolgirl he once knew. Her eyes were still sparkling with that childlike gaiety as she looked up at him, still dawning her scent, “I almost forgot to be honest. I was so busy listening to you,” he shook his head, “Seeing you so excited like this is rare for me, and I would like to cherish every moment of it,” his words were spoken a little more hushed and quickly than usual. It was not just because they were in a library, but the reasoning could likely be given to the Soleil.

“Lord Finnegan and Lady Alyssana,” Professor Clementine Mitchell, an dark haired, average heighted man who had just turned the corner, approached the two. His stout nature was round, and his face was pale but his beard was thick with dark hair. His strong voice was not easily disguised amongst the rows and rows of books, “I thought I heard some chit-chattering that sounded very familiar,” his wording seemed to have been a strange break, stealing every opportunity for Lord Finnegan to make any real say in the conversation, which reminded the younger man as to why speaking so weakly was ill-advised, “My, what brings you two here to the library today?”

Professor Clementine Mitchell had taught at the Institute and knew both to the best of his abilities as a professor could know his devious students. His mustache was imperial. He used to have a more English mustache, but as time passed, it became curlier and no one ever really minded too much until they had to describe him to someone for some reason or another. His usual dress was in his navy swallowtail jacket with black lining. He was holding his cane and pointing at them as if they ought to be doing something else with their lives than stand there. Unfortunately, he was unaware that he was part of the reason that they were now stuck in the exact same spot of the library and unable to move.

“Oh, no, why yes, hello, Professor Mitchell,” Lord Finnegan smiled, nodding his head slightly, as to see no fine opportunity to shake the man’s hand. This was slightly strange, but all the same, the man was zany and expecting anything usual from the man seemed would have been recorded as much more strange. In fact, he smelled just the same, zaney. Cheating on any of his exams by smelling for the right answer was always a whirl of an experience. To say the least, his smell was not pleasant to the younger gentleman, and he wished that the professor would at least dowse his pits in soap or powder, “Lady Alyssana found some books on the Wasteland and magic, and I have a few books the number five that have caught my attention, recently,” Lord Finnegan looked to Lady Alyssana briefly while he spoke, making a small motion.

“The Wasteland and Magic? By God, my dear Lady Alyssana, Are you never going to give up your studies? Now, I wonder, what really did bring you two to the library today.” The Professor looked at Lady Alyssana with a slight puff coming from his nose, trying to anticipate the answer or decipher through their muddied explanations. Lord Finnegan was never a good one for those things. He was too busy trying to manipulate everyone, during his time at the Institute. The Professor would never imagine anything different from the man. As well, Lady Alyssana was always much more straight forward given most circumstances.

Current Mood in One Gif

Word association Game!

Sleep

𝓣ℎ𝑒 𝓕𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝒻 𝓐𝑙𝑦𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑎 & 𝓕𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡.

𝓣he library was a beautiful building, but it was not nearly as beautiful as Lady Alyssana, Lord Finnegan thought. There was something more classical about the woman than any other thing in the world. Afterall, beauty would save the world. However, he did not want his mind to wander. He had a few things himself he had to get at the library. It was duty that he attempted at least a couple times before flouncing himself forward with getting some sort of librarian to set him straight, “If you feel faint, Walter, by the shield of Saint George the Trophy bearer, say something to Lord Christopher before we have tragedy on our hands,” he breathed in a little, looking down at his wristwatch. He was already feeling a little resentful of the travel himself, but being around Lady Alyssana had forced him to prove something of himself.

Was this how all his lady friends felt after he doused them?

Of course, not.

It was merely impossible.

“Yes, brother,” Walter smiled sweetly with his hazel eyes. His lips cusped upwards as he looked to Lord Christopher. All the adventure that was about to unfold. There were other types of adventures that could grasp them, but libraries, especially this one, had a special knack for surprising each and every one of its guests with something different and unusual. There was a unique magical mist that seemed to set it apart from some of the even larger libraries in the other cities. Lord Christopher had only heard of the few adventures his brother and other acquaintances had been on in those other knowledgeable buildings, but by far, the ones that took him in this particular one were by far the very best.

With that, Lord Walter looked to the pocket watch in Lord Christopher’s hand and followed, as if the device was some sort of compass before putting it away. He quickly began following his friend, both with curiosity wrapped around their minds. It was nothing unusual to see, but in the least, it was still unique as was stated in which the library treated each and every quest with the same special particularities that no two guests or visits were the same.

Lord Finnegan watched as the two younger men wandered through the dissension of books. Their footsteps were slowly lost to the discord, “That’s fine, as long as Walter watches himself more than the books, and honestly, I prefer we take care of you, first,” he smiled with a bit of shy slyness, “If I am not mistaken in assuming that you have a few or more gentle reads in mind?” He was eager to get lost in the rows of books with her and really did prefer the pompous art of letting the lady go first. Besides, it reminded him of the first time they shared a dance

It was a memory he would hold close to him, not just whenever he took a step into the library but as long as the stars flared up in the nighttime mist and the moon surfaced without deceit and as easily to remember and rehearse in his mind as to count the sun to rise in the morning. It was a memory eternally engraved and to cherish all the same, even more now, standing so close to her.

It almost killed him to breathe her in.

𝓣ℎ𝑒 𝓕𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝒻 𝓐𝑙𝑦𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑎 & 𝓕𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡.

𝓛ady Alyssana's lack of response was disheartening, and Lord Finnegan could not help but give her some sort of smile in response. It was rehearsed gentlemanly like the rest of his behaviors. There was much to be said about her silence, and he was not going to push her. The woman's will was an animal of its own, and he was busy taming a different part of her, “Very well, the library it is then,” he spoke for Walter, who was busy juggling the thoughts of speaking and taking another sip of his tea. He was after all is said and done, the clumsier and more bashful version of his older brother.

He looked down at his several wrist watches. They were still ticking in their quietly ticking ways. They had different times for different places around the world. Finnegan had offered to purchase him something that had several dials and on one face, but he refused to wear something of the sorts after getting so attached to the ones already on his arm, “Going to the library sounds as a good idea as any,” Lord Walter finally admitted. He was giddy and was not certain he wanted to show anymore of it. The tea was definitely helping with his fiddling mind, and getting a few books for learning would be quite worth his time. He was always eager to do what his brother said, albeit when the Greys came into their manor, it seemed he suddenly had more worth in amongst the guests.

Lord Walter quickly removed himself from his chair but not before saying, “Excuse me!” And “Yes, let us go!” to Lord Christopher as they went to go don their jackets and other necessities for the trip.

. ❖ .

_{𝓣𝒉𝒆 𝓑𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒄𝒂 𝒐𝒇 𝓢𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒊𝒍}

𝓣he Bibliotheca of Soleil was across town. It was not the only library in town, but it was the main library. The library had smaller locations for the ones who had a much more difficult time traveling across town, and those particular libraries had not as many glorious books and many repetitive literature that could be found in the main library near the center of the town. This particular library was large and at one point, Lord Walter had gone by himself, and after taking the steam-cranked elevator downwards to the basement, nearly fell to the floor from exhaustion after getting lost.

There were columns of books everywhere with ladders and stairs and traits of flourishing ideas. It was almost a beast of a place to be. However, the entrance being as tidy and finely lit seemed to offer a perpetual steeple of insightful and glorious knowledge that always encouraged anyone who left the library from exhaustion with a new found hope of freedom for learning and education. It is also true that only the library workers, regulars, and nobles find this library easy to navigate.

Lord Finnegan had thought it was a perfect place to murder someone as it is so large, but his admiration for the art or writing tended to overwhelm him whenever he stepped afoot inside the monstrous library. It's Gothic architecture with flying buttresses had some sort of power over him, and he proposed it some sort of middle ground of sorts where government officials and locals could play fairly next to each other without fearing any negative outcomes.

𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒖𝒎 - 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈

_{a short story | inspired by tdac#1
chess & relationships}

[+]

<sub>Drowning

It was cold on the patio, and small specks of snow were beginning to fall from the evening sky. It reminded Jennifer
of the warm, summery night, Frederick and she had first met at some bar in the downtown area. Both had just graduated
from college, and he was trying his hardest to be the best man he could be, while she was nearly drunk next to her best
friend. She had been loud, while he had been his usual quiet and reserved self, simply enjoying a single bottle. They
were all having a good time, and they bumped into each other. Somehow, they both meshed.

“Are you being real?” He asked her with a smile.

“Of course I am!” She said with as much verbose personality as possible. She was merry and she could have cared less
about this man, especially with her best friend by her side. All the two women cared about was having fun. Hookups, dating,
and marriage could wait. They were too busy enjoying the stress free life of no school. Sure, work was a bummer, but those
incoherent deadlines were forgotten and in the past.

For Frederick, it was love at first site. Never before her, had he met a woman like her. Unfortunately, Jennifer had absolutely
no idea there was anything between them for the longest time. She was slow to notice these things, like the white powder
falling from the sky. As he got to know her more, she proved to be nothing like the drunk woman he met at the bar. Yes,
she could be ridiculous sometimes, and yes, there was a bombastic side that could behoove anyone. However, she was
generally a quiet person who preferred her own personal space just like he did.

Right now, hers was on the patio staring at the dark, hazy sky. The moon was shining brightly, and something about the
beauty made her tear up. The moon was always there, every night, save for new moons, and even then, she counted the
moon as still being there. It represented a new beginning, a new phase. Right now, the moon was full like a huge white
flower. There would be four more phases until a new moon and a new beginning. She was praying for one.

Frederick's personal space was inside their apartment. He was staring at his computer screen, plugging away variables for
his rising entrepreneur computer program. It would offer him financial relief and a fresh outlook for how his home life was
looking with all the incoherent deadlines at work. However, this evening happened. He was already over it and wanted her
gone, but Jennifer processed information differently, especially when she was like this.

Earlier, when Frederick asked with a stern loudness, “Are you being real?” She responded with a lack of personality. Her eyes
were downcast and lonely. She looked empty, and her voice was spoken with as much quietness as possible. He did not know
who she was anymore. He was unsure if she was even a person. She did not seem to care. The mesh between them had been
torn, and they were swimming without each other in the ocean, again. They were two fish, who had forgotten how to love each
other, and he was too slow to react, as usual.

“Of course, I am,” she responded with a frown.</sub>

𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒔 - 𝒕𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅

_{see below}

[c a n c e l e d]