Recent Statuses

1 mo ago
Current Is life a tragedy with happy acts, or a comedy with sad acts?
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1 mo ago
Sitting outside with my laptop and a glass of DIet Coke beside me. Time to write on my Master's Thesis like a maniac on Meth!
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5 mos ago
"Buddhism is not a renewable resource."
6 mos ago
Why do I dislike online discussions, but always end up in them? Oh well, at least one of them have given me the argument of "That's ridiculous", so I must be doing something right.
10 mos ago
@KatKook The power of Christ compels you!
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Most Recent Posts

Alexander Polawski

Location: Camp Mexico Beach: H6 Quarantine (Conference Room)
Skills: N/A

"Let's see…we're talking something between Mick Jagger late '69 and Neil Young at his best. Hell, I could give you a run for your money with that hair." Alexander had to answer Beatrice with a smirk, pleasently surprised to hear her laugh, even if it was only slight. This was one of the few moments of his past he'd shared with his favourite Let's Not Talk About It-person, and to hear her respond to it with an unusual sense of joy was a nice change of pace. It was nice, talking about his past without the fear. He'd be smart to keep that in check.

What followed was an overkill of an information-dump that could be only rivaled by the military Alexander had been part of a good four decades earlier, and he'd been good at paying attention better than he did in his early adulthood. It being Thana holding the briefing only made him more attentive of all the information. Only thing missing now was their officers jotting down notes, coordinates and whatnot so they didn't have to remember every order under the hail of gunfire.

Alexander listened carefully to each and every word Thana spoke to them throughout the whole briefing, only in brief moments seeing images of his days in the Army flash before his eyes as it sounded all too familiar to him. The C.O. holding all the cards and being the allmighty lord of the camp, your pre-miliary skills not being needed before you'd proven you could clean up other people's shit, meal-schedules, what you were allowed to do and carry and not, and much more. Yeah, Alexander had been through it before, though in a slightly different varation and context. The military needed them back in '70, they didn't now. But Alexander was still pretty sure he'd want to join.

His confidence grew slim when Thana mentioned the part of therapy.

The old veteran held the piece of paper before him, reading through it until he once again came back to the part with therapy. Therapy…he'd never had that. He knew enough fellow vets of what that could mean. Therapy meant talking about your feelings. Talking about your feelings meant talking about what caused them, and talking about that meant talking about what they'd done…what Alexander had done. Was he ready to do that? Would he ever be ready? His old eyes read the line again, again and again until the words no longer held any meaning. Therapy recommended, though not required. Did he really have a choice? He'd gotten this far without it, but could he?

Alexander looked over the paper again, before signing it. This was his best option by far, even if he didn't neccecarely like it. This was the military; you might not like it, but it gave you a sense of normality to a life who's normality was shattered by the undead. He'd have to ask about the therapy more after this, but if he didn't have to do it, he'd rather not…unless that was what his wife would have wanted? Alexander stood up and walked slowly over to Thana to hand in his paper, giving her a loaded smile at it all. He was tired of living like he had done on the outside, and now he wanted to prove himself useful, even if memories would come back to haunt him. He wanted to say something, but nothing wise came to him, so instead he handed in his papers and went back to his seat.

Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper

Location: Camp Mexico Beach: Quarantine (Conference Room)
Skills: N/A

Nigel nodded back to Hunter, glad that he was perhaps helping in the young, troubled man's existantial crisis with his reassurances. The young man had made progress since the first day Nigel saw him, if it wasn't one hell of a poker player or anything. Or a Gaulish barbarian assimilating into Roman culture who did all he could to be a good Roman, though deep in his heart his soul belonged to the forrests and rivers of Gaul. Perhaps Nigel too was a Gaul, a foreigner to this new society that was determined to forge their place in a unkind world. They all probably were, all various cultures and tribes that would become part of this military society. Was then Nigel a Greek?

"If they will allow it, it would be more than just cool. I've had my sword since this whole thing began, and it has yet to fail me." Nigel said back to Hunter, returning the smile as he finally got some eye-contact with him. Progress. He had no idea whether or not he would actually be allowed to work his trade in the camp, but he struggled to think they wouldn't find use of his skills. How many blacksmiths were out there those days?

Then Thana began to explain the way forward for them. All of them, both those who wished to stay and those who didn't. It was a lot of explaining, and Nigel did his best to take note of all the points she made underway. It all boiled down to one of the first things Thana made abundently clear; Camp Mexico Beach was a military camp. Rules existed for eveything, and for every rule there was a punishment. Like the legions of the Roman Republic and Roman Empire, you worked and fought who you were told to. They owed you nothing, it was your duty to serve if you wanted something in return. Work yourself up from the bottom, prove yourself worthy. It was what all modern militaries had based themselves on after all, it worked.

Nigel "Hadrian" was having few doubst in what he wanted. Like he believed himself, Rome did not become one of the greatest empires by playing nice or easy. It was a harsh world out there. If peace is what you seek, prepare for war, and so on. He still took a little time to read over the paper, noting the lack of required therapy for him. It was a good sign that his interview hadn't gone as bad as he'd feared. It also gave Erica enough time for him to notice her nudging him as she sat down with him. Nigel looked up at her, giving her a soft smile before looking down at the paper and signing it. "Let's hope this works for us." Nigel said to Erica, standing up and walking over to Thana to hand her the papers. Afterwards Nigel went back to sit with Erica, returning the favour and giving her a nudge. He hope this would work. He didn't want to be alone anymore. "Just asked Hunter if he'd like to be forge a sword. Want to learn it too?"

Mahendra Huq Zalil & Richard Barker

Location: Athribis (Underground)
Skills: N/A - N/A

The Honourable Lord Major was quite right indeed in what he stated as they began their descent into the unknown darkness below; Too many of their fellow companions had befallen their deaths in the most gruesome sorts of ways. And for all his fears of seeing the signs that would announce his very own demise, Mahendra was not ready to stand down like a coward. Onwards was the way, towards their destiny like Mahendra had stormed the Turkish positions many years ago. With their retreat cut off, this was their last stand. Not one step back! Though he would have liked to follow Faye's advice in regards to being armed. "Yes, quite so, Miss Masterson. Alas I am afraid I am armed with neither rifle nor sabre. Be careful, everyone."

Richard was not liking this one bit, not as they began their route down Shady Avenue number 1 and he was trouble walking straight. Perhaps his mind was too torn apart in various directions, like a stream of cars all entering and exiting the intersection outside his office window. Keep Faye safe, hit whatever would come flying at him like a bat out of Hell, and keep moving further. In silence he cursed the lack of any good sources of light, not to mention what the Lord Major had said earlier. Too many had died already? Just how far down the rabbit hole did this group of wackos go? A detective would have asked a whole lot about this group at this point, but Richard Barker wasn't just a detective. He was a good one, save from his earlier gaffe involving their introduction. No, he learned from his mistakes and took to heart Faye's suggestion of keeping their mouths shut. Richard gave Faye an approving nod, leaning against the wall as…lights came into view?

"Extraordinary…" the Fellowship's geologist whispered under his breath upon witnessing the show of light fly past them alongside the wall. It was an impressive sight to see, especially for Mahendra and his interest of archeology. Several questions buzzed through his mind about the source of light, and the structure as a whole. How was this possible? How could the oil suddenly be lit, and after so many years? It must surely be an effect of the whole tunnel turning new and fresh!

The New York detective was still having his doubts of whether or not he'd gone bonkers under the Egyptian sun or something, seeing the whole world change around him like that, though he clung onto his sanity the best he could. Richard was a man of logical explainations to the wildest of cases, and his detective mind was sure to attempt a similar process down there. But for that he needed a bit more elbow room to look over all the clues and such, not an ancient tunnel changing before his very eyes. Struggling to keep himself straight, he'd resort to keep up his efforts to keep an eye out and keep Faye safe. If anything, perhaps she could come up with one of her mystified theories in order to explain all of this in a way that would make sense to Richard?

Robert Adler

Location: Grimm, Indiana. (Following Zoie)
Skills: Stamina, Endurance

Robert had gone too far to stop once Adelaide shouted after him, whether or not he was within hearing distance or not. He may not have known Zoie or cared much about her well-being in what Robert would call his everyday-life, but out here? Through the haze, specks of blood and gunfire filling the void of his previous existance which now held a terrifying excitement? Yeah, he probably would have run after her in order to make sure that this living person was fine. And so he did, as fast as he could in his day and age, thankful that years of athletics was still paying off to this day.

Or he would have thanked himself, had it not been for what sight befell his eyes what lay behind that last corner. He got within eyesight of Zoie, about to shout something after her, something about confirming she was okay and/or what was going on. But he did not expect this. His mouth was left hanging down to his chest, his eyes fixated in horror as he watched what the…thing did to Zoie. Was it a monster, a shadow, a figment of his imagination that was running on its last juices after too many years behind the desk? Regardless of what it was, Robert could only watch as Zoie was ripped apart, piece by piece as if she was some old ragdoll played too hard with.

Robert had seen some grousome sights in his life, especially the few times he'd been pulled to sights of house fires were the bodies were yet to be scooped up by the fine men in white hazmat suits. This? This was on a whole new level of What The Fuck!?. And in a good response to the sight of the shadow monster and Zoie being ripped to pieces, Robert did the only thing he could think of to do.

He began to ran.

Faster than he had ever ran in his life, Robert spared no breath or pain in his effort to get the fuck out as quick as he humanly could. If not to save his own skin, he had to warn Adelaide and Mali of the impending danger they all were in. It must have been in his confused horror that he only made it a few feet, finding gravity to be a greater danger to him at the moment as he tripped forward. Falling face first towards the ground, he used all his strenght to catch the fall. He couldn't stop now, not when he was still so close to…It, whatever that was. He had to keep going, keep running.

Alexander Polawski

Location: Camp Mexico Beach: H6 Quarantine (Conference Room)
Skills: N/A

It felt good to be accepted around the table as Thalia gave her fellow amputee permission to sit with them. He wasn't and would never force himself into their company, but he did miss talking to them a bit. Especially Beatrice, or perhaps more fitting the time they spent together without uttering a single word. Was that true friendship? Just sitting the two of you in a room, in a car or out walking in the autumn breeze, in total silence? It was moments like those he enjoyed most spending with Judith after all, so perhaps yes? Giving Beatrice a soft smile, Alexander returned the greeting. "Morning, Bea."

To Thalia, Alexander only shook his head and grinned, grabbing his side of the table and getting started with his breakfast. It was simple, fitting a man of his age and religion, as he quickly whispered a prayer to the Big Man up above. If this was his last day here, he was going to enjoy it in a simple way. He wasn't a rowdy youngster anymore, as the General had reminded him, but age brought joy to the smaller things. Like this. Like a normal family dinner, he missed those…really.

The Spanish flew past the ol' Veteran faster than a Huey evac'ing the wounded, but he caught into the latter part of the conversation. Arrested? Alexander had to chuckle at the thought of Thalia being arrested. It was probably true, she was one firery Angel after all. Was this how Manny had been in his youth, like he told earlier? Maybe. Alexander would probably have still liked him back then, even if his younger self was a very different kid. "Never arrested me either, only pulled over by a rookie cop or sent home as a youngster. It was a different time, the 60's and 70's you know? Could you imagine me with long hair?"

Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper

Location: Camp Mexico Beach: Quarantine (Conference Room)
Skills: N/A

Sitting by himself was perhaps not such a bad move after all, as Nigel got a few moments to enjoy his breakfast in peace. Erica was clearly engaged in conversation with the two women and the old guy, and Nigel knew better than to waltz in and interrupt whatever they were talking about. He'd walked in on far too many conversations between his students to know that asking "So what are you talking about?" was a more solid way to sink the conversation than Greek fire. Still, Nigel sent the occational glanze over to Erica, just in time to catch her smile and nod to him. Smiling back at her, Nigel also nodded, as if in silent code telling her that he saw her and hoped she was doing okay. He really did, as she was by far the nicest person he'd spent time with in the Afterworld.

It was about this time that his Roman defensive fort on the banks of the Rhine was reenforced by Hunter, like his usual self clutching a cup of coffee as he spoke to Nigel. "The big day, capital T." Nigel idly replied back to the young soldier, noticing the lack of eye-contact but putting it down to Hunter's usual self. He had a long way to go, but Nigel thought he was making progress, so he would give young Hunter a little faith. "If not politely, then they will ask. They've been quite up-front with us from the start, I think, and nobody's waved their guns at us yet. If they're a civilized, if militarized society, they'll ask. Even Rome used diplomacy, you know."

Nigel took his own sip of his coffee, briefly looking at Hunter before letting his eyes wander around the room like so many times before. He hoped for the best, but prepared for the worst to come. As long as he'd be reunited with his gladius and other equiptment, Nigel would be fine. One way or another. Nigel "Hadrian" turned back to Hunter, continuing the conversation. "Don't worry, Hunter, it will all turn out okay somehow. Dum vita est, spes est." Nigel really hoped so himself. If anything, he was more afraid of being alone than anything else. His new-found companionship with the others had re-ignited the social side of him, after so long in isolation. Was this the same thought-process Hunter was going through? "Say, Hunter, want to learn how to forge your own sword?" Perhaps Hunter would enjoy his ramblings about Rome as much as Erica had?

He just wished he could continue to ramble on to Erica about that. Who else would listen to him?

Mahendra Huq Zalil & Richard Barker

Location: Athribis (Underground)
Skills: Understanding of local Egyptian superstition, Geology, Natural Geography, Excavation - Observation, People-reading, Deduction

"Don't thank me yet, Doll. We're still rats scurrying the sewers. Come on, let's get out of here." Richard said back to Faye after she thanked him, giving her a serious look of managable concern. They weren't safe yet, not before they'd gotten out of those dark ruins and out into fresh, open air. Having ignored Faye's mention of her missing sisters and her own connections with the supernatural, Richard began to move down the tunnel they'd come from. And thankfully they weren't alone in their desire to leave, with the lady called Ridgeway also voicing her desire to exit the vacate the premises so to speak. "Then let's get out of here already!"

Mahendra wasn't about to flee in fright like so many comrades of his colonial regiment had during the Great War, climbing out of the sand-filled trenches and shot for cowardice. No, Mahendra would retreat their position once ordered by the Lord Major, the only one he'd be ready to follow the orders out of respect and honour. Not out of politeness. So it was with a sigh of relief that he was soon given the order, after what Mahendra though were the Lord Major whispering something about…inappropriate people. Mahendra restrained his desire to salute the Lord Major, but did give him a firm nod. "Very well, Lord Major sir. Lauren, Mister and Misses…nevermind that, let us leave with haste!" Mahendra stated to the remainders of the Fellowship, ready to leave as soon as possible!

Richard hadn't gotten far at all before he was stopped in his tracks. All of them were, and it was not a good sight to see. "What the…" Right in front of them, the tunnel had been sealed off somehow, blocking their exit. This was bad. Really bad. "Oh this is just fucking great, isn't it? It's a flop, turn around!" Richard shouted out in anger at the sight, eyes going all over the place in hopes of finding another way out. Nothing. They were stuck.

"Wha…what? Oh my, the smell…" Mahendra questioned the clumsy American, before finding the need to cover his face when the stank hit his nostrils. The smell was bad, but not as bad as what Mahendra was starting to see around him. "The tunnel's been blocked off, no way in Hell we're getting out that way now…wait, what…"

Both the Bengali geologist and New York detective were having difficulty seeing what Gene was pointing out to them; the tunnel they were trapped in, it was starting to look new. Gene told them this had happened at another time and place, and was going to happen again? And to top it all of, she blurted out that Belladonna was a witch?

Both of them began to really grind their gears as hard as they could.

Mahendra was doing this as the expert, the academic who tried to figure out how this was possible. Be it divine or something bound in science, Mahendra could believe that this was really happening, however fantastical it all seemed. His mind raced through all he had learned in England, all he had experienced out in the field and down in excavations such as this, desperatly trying to tie the clues together! All for nothing. "This I have never experienced before…never in my life, no natural and mortal phenomenon can explain this!" Mahendra stated to the group, perhaps more so to himself in order to calm him down. But if it wasn't anything natural, it must be divine.

Richard on the other hand was having an entirely different crisis of reality. He had seen some shit through his life and careers in the police and private investigating. But nothing, nothing came close to the Houdini-shit he was seeing right then. Was he finally going mad? After all the shit he'd been put through, heartbreak and pain, was this the moment he finally got thrown into the looney bin? Still clutching the torch and making his way back to the group, he was doing one hell of a reality check on himself, coming to a conclusion; "I'm not going nuts, this is too real…Am I? Faye? This is some top-notch giggle-juice hangover…I'm not the only one seeing this shit, am I?" Richard asked the group and Faye directly, the only person he knew and trusted down in the tunnels, now trapped.

"No, Mr…Barker, was it? No, you're not the only one. This is something larger than all of us, something us mere mortal barely can begin to comprehend." Mahendra answered Richard, before turning to Nora as some light was requested up front and joining her. They were commited now. Best get it over with and find a way out of here. While Mahendra went up front to Nora, Richard stayed a little further back with Faye as he pulled out his club. "Stick close to me, this can get ugly. I might be stating the obvious, but we're in danger. Knee-deep in it, whatever it is. You're right, I wish I had my gun now. And Miss
Benaszewski? What was that about your lady friend being a witch? And those glowing marks on you two? Not some fancy tattoos I guess."

Robert Adler

Location: Grimm, Indiana. (Tinder House, outside)
Skills: N/A

A whole lot was going through Robert's mind right at that moment. A butt-load of thoughts, all connected and yet totally separated from one another. Firstly he was trying to logically think how the car managed to simply crash into something on it's own accord. He'd heard and worked on stories like these plenty times before, mostly people bullshitting their way to their insurance money. But hey, it was still possible, car's could be faulty right? But that blood…Robert was still backing away from the car, all possible answers coming back to that one clue; How could the blood be explained? Someone dropped blood on the carseat before letting it loose?

The more he thought about it, the more the least likely possibility became the more reasonable one. But that was impossible, right? It didn't help that the other thoughts clouding his mind were him questioning himself why he was there. This was a mess, a total clusterfuck that he'd rather not have anything to do with! Finally turning around and making his way back to where he'd left Adelaide, he was regretting taking this job more and more. Sure it was more exciting than his normal desk job, but this was more than he could chew.

"Adelaide?" Was all Robert managed to get out as he had turned around, before he heard more gunfire somewhere off in the distance. The direction Zoie had gone. "Shit, this is just great…" Robert said to himself, turning around once again to look in the direction Zoie had gone. He couldn't see her anymore, she was gone. "…Damnit Robert, this is a bad idea…" He muttered, pulling out his gun again and making a run for it. Shit was going down somewhere out there, and he sure wasn't going back into that house. With his luck it'd collapse on itself and imprison him under rubble. He didn't like his odds out in the haze either, but he'd take his chances, following wherever Zoie had gone. "Adelaide! I'm going after, could be in trouble!"

Alexander Polawski

Location: Camp Mexico Beach: H6 Quarantine (Sleeping quarters, Room 4 -> Conference Room)
Skills: N/A

Alexander dreamt something that night. At least he think he did, for it was something more alike a memory rather than simply his sleep-deprived brain making up on the spot in his sleep. Somewhere far off in his sleep, Alexander was kneeling down on the tall-grassed ground somewhere in the middle of nowhere in Vietnam. Bullets flew past him as fast as his own bullets were fired at whoever NVA unit was trying to wipe them out. The whole lot of them, but they couldn't. Huey's were circleing their LZ and giving the Vietnamese a taste of high calibre machine gun fire to keep their own boys safe. Both alive and wounded. Sergeant Jackson barked an order, and Alexander lept from his position and into the waiting helicopter. Evacuation. The rest of it was a blur, but something stuck out to the ol' veteran. As they flew away from the hellscape below them, he heard the medic onboard shout something over the noise of the rotors. The wounded soldier they had dragged onboard? He was going to be okay.

He was going to be okay. Whatever happened, regardless of the death and other sorrows that had followed Alexander, he was going to be okay. It was going to be okay.

It was an odd feeling to wake up from one of his 'Nam-dreams and not find himself in a pool of sweat or to his lungs gasping for air. Alexander woke up slowly and gently, rubbing his eyes as he tried to figure out just what was going on. Had he gotten a good night of sleep again? Alexander pushed uphimself up to the edge of the bed, getting his leg put to place before getting dressed. Today was a big day, for all of them. A part of Alexander wanted to think hard over who would be accepted and who wouldn't, himself included. But another part of him echoed his words of reassurance to Manny the night before, and his interview with Aeron. It had been more of a friendly conversation between two men really. Even if he was old, he was full of experience. He would make it whatever happened, be it inside or outside those walls. He was determined on that, refusing to become the crippled burden he feared he had been.

"Morning, Manny. You awake?" Alexander greeted Manny as it was time for them to head for the Conference room. Breakfast, a good start on a day that could turn out so badly. Making his way to the Conference room, he noticed the people already in there getting their food, and Thana sitting with stacks of paper and Ash going over to her. Papers, what were they for? Certainly had to be connected to today's big happening, but Alexander wasn't going to pry for information. Instead he nodded and smiled politely to those he passed on his way to get some breakfast of is own, after the week starting to remember their names and faces.

Thalia and Beatrice had already gotten their breakfast and were joined by one of the small group's members, Erica was her name, right? Perhaps out of the habit of it all, Alexander walked more comfortable on his new leg over to the trio of girls and smiled at them. "Morning. I'll just grab a spot here with you three, if you don't mind? And Erica, was it?"

Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper

Location: Camp Mexico Beach: Quarantine (Sleeping quarters, Room 6 -> Conference Room)
Skills: N/A

Whatever would happen that day, whoever would be given citizenship to this little military society the General was managing to make work down at the coast, Nigel "Hadrian" was preparing himself for either option. As he woke up from his slumber and slowly got dressed and ready for their first meal of the day, he went through the possibilities presented before him. In all honesty he felt there was a good chance that he'd be allowed to stay in Camp Mexico Beach, at least for some of his skills. Blacksmiths were in short supply, if they weren't interested in more fighters or teachers to bolster their ranks. So then either he was one of everyone that were accepted as fellow members of the camp, or one of few.

Then again they could have no real use for him, a Roman reenactor with no prior military experience who looked like a sore thumb amongst the group. That was a real possibility, one which he wasn't neccecarily afraid of. He had been on the outside before, both with fellow survivors or all by himself. He didn't like the thought of it, not least now that he had gotten to know some of these people, but if he had to…Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper would survive, whatever the cost may be.

Even if he would be heartbroken to leave his friends.

"Quo fata ferunt. Where the fates bear us to. I hope we'll all be all right, Hunter." Nigel said quietly to Hunter before leaving for the conference room, contemplating his future. Their future. If there were anyone he had any doubts qualified, it would have to be either Wayne or Hunter, perhaps the Victor-guy who was isolating himself more and more. Wayne was just bat-shit crazy and Hunter didn't make a stellar first-impression on their first day, but they had improved! Hadn't they? The Conference room was already filling up with people, least not the guards who were now armed. As if they anticepated the worst them too. People were getting breakfast, to which Nigel too would do. Nothing fancy or gluttoness, but he would enjoy it nonetheless.

This time Nigel wouldn't sit down with Erica. She was already acquainting herself with several others of the survivors, Thalia, Beatrice and Alexander the old one-legged guy. He felt perhaps a little out of place, and decided to sit alone at a table this time. Get a little space from Wayne and Hank and whatever they were going to do. And what at the end of the day? Who would he have to sit and eat with if he wasn't accepted? If Erica wasn't accepted? He would miss having someone to talk to, both his perhaps eccentric interest of Rome but also the little things…he would probably miss her, perhaps even Caligula and Shovel Knight…
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