ONL

The Rain In The Cycolpean City. (H.P. Lovecraft/Cthulhu Mythos Roleplay)

Richard Barker

Nothing. Nobody shouted back to answer Richard after he'd asked for an update downstairs. Odd, hadn't they heard him, or did they choose to ignore him? Maybe, wouldn't be first ones to pretend he wasn't there. Richard contemplated going out and repeating his question, but something in his gut kept him in that same room, eyes and other senses going over the clues and weird shit he was seeing.

Going over the few sets of bits he had gathered already, Richard paced the room calmly as he repeated to himself the words and phrases he had just written down. "Watching…32 degrees 20,0' North…002 degrees 44,8' East…Carcosa?" He whispered to himself, scratching his head and puffing the stiff cigarette on his equally stiff lower lip, not making sense of what the detective thought Jeremy must have seen some logic in. The logic of a looney, sure, but still…"These are more tricks than a car filled with monkeys…"

Best to put the notepad away for the moment, Richard thought. He still had yet to search the remainder of Jeremy's room. On instinct Richard crouched down onto his knees and began looking horizontally along the floor, seeking anything hidded out of sight, and sure there he found something. Under Jeremy's bed the private detective pulled out a pocket watch, and not one of those cheap ones you could buy in Little Italy. It was a pretty expensive one, making Richard wonder why it had been hidded, or more likely thrown under the bed out of all places? And what was the piece of paper tucked underneath it? Richard pocketed the note without further thought, rather deciding he should keep looking and get out of the room sooner rather than later. Next stop, the closet.

The closet was open, containing only rotting clothes of various colours and styles. Geeze, the humidity really had done a number on the house. Good thing his own office wasn't as shitty as this, not by a long-shot. But just like the watch under the bed, something was hidded at the buttom. A wooden chest, rotting just like the rest of the house. He figured it had to be hidded, considering it was placed in the closet, even if it was hidded like crap. Well, better to take it out and see what was inside.

It was apparenly a solid moment for Ferd and Val to head outside and shout at whoever stool-pidgeon was watching them, and not in a stealthy manner either. Richard sighed, wondering if the next thing he would hear were "Hey there, stop!" or "He's got a gun!". "I guess those amatours need me…" Richard sighed, picking up the wooden box from the closet and quickly making his way out of the bedroom, proceeding to the staircase. "What did those two squares do? Also, anyone have an idea what this box is? Ol' Jeremy was hiding it like it was the Arch of the Covenant or something, except he hid it like a drunken cobbler in a swamp." Richard asked downstairs, looking over the railing at the remainder of the crew. "Jeremy really had an...eccentric collection of puzzles up here, like he was searching for someone or something."

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Alexander Polawski Location: The Bus (Q6) Outside CMB -> Graveyard Skills: N/A

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Whatever the conversations had been going on in front, behind and around him, Alexander had only slowly drifted back to the same realm as they existed in. A slideshow of images had passed before him and his tired eyes, thankfully in little-to-no need for glasses even for his age. It made him wonder, what were the role of…those guys who dealt in glasses? Their professional title eluded him like the faulty wire of a broken tv from the mid-1980's, he'd tried to fix too many of those in his lifetime. The silver lining was perhaps that all those hours cursing at the cheap electronics just might pay off those days.

The images that had kept Alexander occupied faded away alongside the scenery, seeing the bus drive away from the camp and somewhere away. The Graveyard. Back in his own reality, Alexander breathed in deep and straightened himself in his seat, turning to look at the others inside the bus. The guards - presuming they were the ones needing guarding - exfiltrated the bus. The Padre, Bass and Joaquin, making their way to open the heavy-set gate and guiding the bus inside. They were finally there, the slumbering fields of those passed and dearly missed.

Alexander wasn't sure what he had expected the Graveyard to look like. One word stuck out, one which could and had been used in his mind in his time there at CMB: Normal. Just like from the newspaper writing about wacky crimes in Florida, or even the page from a school book about the South. Alexander leaned towards the window, taking in the sight as Daytona instructed them to file out and stay close. Close marching formation.

The old veteran gripped the stock of his newly-leant double-barreled shotgun, letting the two young ladies Amelia and Riley get up and out first. While he wasn't expecting them to come under heavy machine gun fire as soon as they stepped out of the bus, Alexander wasn't prepared to feel a wall of humid heat strike him across his wrinkled face. It was as if he was hit by a Caribbean wave somewhere east of the Florida coast, forcing ol' Mugsy to use his one free hand to wipe off his face and give his eyes shade. Okay, perhaps glasses were something he'd have some use for, at least sunglasses.

Alexander, now standing outside the bus and next to Amelia, turned quickly to look at her and give her a brief smile. "Hey dear, it's gonna be okay. We'll stick together, be safe." He told her in an attempt to sound reassuring, while his own thoughts again wandered to scenes the Graveyard reminded him off. The gravestones looked the same and a similar heavy cloud hung over him like it had done back when he came home from the war. For a moment he swore he could see his father and mother's graves somewhere hidded behind a tree, but the lack of rain and cold reminded him of where he truly was.

This would have been a nice place to put her to rest.

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Nigel Cooper Location: Streets of CMB (P6) -> Hydroponic Garden (T) Skills: N/A

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Not until he outranked her. Ah yes, the classical Platonic philosophy of class structures, reinforcing the thought that power remains in the hands of those wise enough to lead. Nigel shook his head with a smirk on his face, almost tempted to give Thana a salute and a "Yes ma'am", though he thought best not to impersonate a military personal. He couldn't fault their way of structuring the hierarchy of Camp Mexico Beach, and so it made sense for him to still be ranked under Thana. The master standing over the slave, but like Thana probably needed him still, the master was nothing without his slaves.

Nigel fanned himself with the palm of his hand, following Thana the grueling journey back to the Gardens through the lumbering heat of Apollo and his sun. He longed to get back into the cool waters of the Gulf of Mexico, they hadn't been able to finish harvesting everything just yet. Following Thana, their first stop appeared to be the Greenhouse again. Waiting for her to answer his question, he watched her open the door and witnessing Thana curse the dreaded heat from inside. "No arguing about that. Felt like the forges of Mars in there." Nigel replied idly, continuing to fan himself and wipe the sweat off his face, looking forward to getting the done over with sooner rather than later. Hopefully he would get used to it…someday…hopefully.

"Wait…other settlements?" Nigel had to repeat after Thana, briefly halting his futile efforts to produce a western wind to cool his body. He had expected to talk about the prospects of scavenging and such, but trading? With other human settlements of civilised peoples? It might not have registered with him earlier if anyone had mentioned other centers of human habitation, but it sure stuck to him now. That and the mention of toilet paper, by the gods did he miss a soft roll of clear toilet paper. "So these other settlements, they're not part of your civili…I mean, they're not part of Camp Mexico Beach? Sorry I sound surprised, but I am. I've spent so much time alone. Suddenly in the span of a few months, I've not only joined one settlement, but now there's others?"

Current Mood in One Gif

The Rain In The Cycolpean City. (H.P. Lovecraft/Cthulhu Mythos Roleplay)

If you can do that, I'll also have Richard finish up his investigation of the bedroom as well!

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Alexander Polawski Location: The Bus (Q6) Outside CMB Skills: N/A

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Staring out the window of a bus, the scenery passing before his old and worn eyes like they had done so many times before. Gates opening and closing was not such a thing he'd witnessed too many times in his life, not like these. Blinking, Alexander guessed that the military check-points he'd passed so many times in his life were the closest he had gotten this far. That and when he'd walked through the massive doors of the church that one day. Breaching the wooden gates that separated his old life from a new one.

Marriage was a strange thing like that. It was the one assault he had no regrets for.

Alexander turned his head idly watch the activety inisde the bus, all the silence that weighed down on them all, and the few sounds of conversation dotted around the seats. The specifics did not colour the canvas that was his hearing, merely the presence of talking as the outer gate opened. The bus drove out, for the first time since when they came here Alexander got to see the outside once again. Not something he had missed seeing, that was for sure, bringing back the memories that kept him at his toes and the hairs in his neck standing cold.

The old veteran nearly zooned out before he registered Bass and the Padre adressing the lovely group of CMB tourists. Reviews, weapons, ammo, not fucking around…Somewhere in the back of his mind, Alexander was reminded of a certain incident involving a flamethrower filled with water, or was it beer? Military pranks, it was fucking hileraous at least, though a pain in the ass afterwards.

They were being armed. Right. Focus.

Being handed a double barreled shotgun and a pack of shells, Alexander accepted the weapon and nodded Bass who gave him the weapon. Not his choice of weapon, being more adept with a rifle or a pistol, but Alexander was not to complain. He was able to defend himself with this, he would prove it. Prove it so that he wouldn't blame himself for more deaths…

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Nigel Cooper Location: Streets of CMB (L5 -> P6) Skills: N/A

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The heat and humidity poured down on neo-Roman like the pebles of Balearic slingers, doubtfully powerful when not experiencing it yourself first hand. Nigel had trouble recollecting anything similar to the Florida weather, well besides his time in the swamps many months ago. This was exactly what the Persians had invented the umbrellas for, and Nigel could hear the voices of his pupils when they told him the artistic renditions of them "looked stupid". Perhaps, but Nigel felt he looked pretty stupid himself sweating like he did walking down the streets of Camp Mexico Beach.

Nigel got the attention of Thana again after having put forth his case, and he was not dissappointed in her response. The reference to Atlas put a chuckle in his voice, making him nod in sweaty agreement to her compromise. "Fair enough. Half the world it is then, but I reserve my right to choose which half." Nigel said back with a smirk, putting his hand up to shield his eyes as he looked forward. Still trying to get used to the city layout of their little fortress, he was at least in capable hands. If Thana got lost there, what hope was there left? His ears certainly were of no use, unable to pick up anything besides the sound of their footsteps, the natural world around them and the sweat pouring down his face.

"So you have the sea to fish from, greens growing in the gardens and under the waves, and somewhere out there the bees that are calmer at dusk. Are there any other sources of food you have here, like scavenging or hunting out in the wild? No easy feat importing Egyptian grain if anything were to happen." Nigel posed the question to Thana the Athenian, wiser and hardier than he was. It was an honest question, as well as a topic of conversation. He remembered how his old settlement had struggled to feed their people sometimes, hell he remembered the very first day when people first got hungry. Hunger was a feeling few people in America had truly felt, and not it was the basic instinct that drove people forward. Nigel didn't want the hungry wolf inside himself back.

One good thing about today.

I am reminded that I have good friends who believe I can do the things I want to do, and I will do all those things

The Rain In The Cycolpean City. (H.P. Lovecraft/Cthulhu Mythos Roleplay)

Richard Barker

As Richard ascended the moudly stairs of what both looked and smelled more and more like an abandonded shithole of a house, he was pleasently surprised to have none of the fellow occupatents attempt to stop him. Clearly they approved of his snooping tendencies more than any well-minded client would have if they only knew how he aquired informaton. Either that, or they were too busy with taking care of themselves down at the ground floor. Yeah, like normal people would do.

At least something seemed off with Ferd again, a certain look of concern washing over his face as he replied back to Richard and telling him to call him whatever he wanted. Well that was a start, Fred was easier to say than Ferd. Then it was the matter of Richard's connection down in Boston. That part Richard chose to ignore, better to open that can of worms later when he didn't have so many balls to juggle. Also, he did not like the nickname Ferd gave him. Peaping over the railing of the stairs, Richard gave Fred one last look before he escaped their company in favour of the upper floor. "I heard that, Fred. Don't call me Rich, never been that my whole life."

The upper floor looked almost as shitty as the lower one, save from the doors themselves not having massive holes in them. Richard made it upstairs, his eyes pearing over the landscape of rotting wood, carpet and furniture before him with his scanning eyes, noticing the disturbances on the floor. Clearly someone had been here recently, obviously Val or Fred who'd checked what looked like a study. That ruled out him checking that. Bedroom it was then.

The door to what had been Jeremy's bedroom was weathered, but standing strong, and more importantly it stood locked. Richard grabbed the door handle with the end of his coat, feeling the door rattle by the lock still in the wall. Not to worry, the private dick knew what to do. Out of the few tools he kept hidded under his clothes, were a set of picks and wires. Lockpicks. Hey, you never knew when you'd need an extra set of universal 'keys', right? Soon enough Richard had picked the locked with an audible [b]click[/], pushing the door open and looking inside.

"Jesus Christ, Jeremy wasn't just a pen-pal now was he…"

Richard tried to take in the room as he slowly entered, though so many clues and strange bits stuck out to him and his police gut feeling. Firstly it was the fact that someone had upped and left in a hurry, packing their neccecities and gotten the hell out of dodge? That Harry fellow who was meant to keep the house under wraps? He shouldn't have had access to the room, but who else?

Clothes rotted strewn around the room, the only pieces of junk resembling any kind of orderly mess the pieces of paper and photographs around the room - either neatly lain down on Jeremy's desk or hung up on the wall, strings running from one photograph and another. String, red string, a colour of warning. "Jeremy, you're a bit of a coockoo, ain't ya?" Richard asked himself, taking a deep drag of his cigarette before continuing his snooping.

Which was only getting weirder and weirder.

In one moment none of this mady any sense to the New York detective, only the left-overs of a rambling looney now half-way across the world chasing three-headed giraffes on the African savannah…but in another moment Richard saw something shine from the pictures, notes and red string - Logic, coherent thoughts, clues. Missing people's reports, coordinates, photographs of random objects and locations tied to the former…and all of them leading back to that Dark Continent to the white man.

"Now this is a Chinese angle if I've ever been thrown ass first into one…"

Richard stood by himself in the bedroom, smoking the cigarette and simply taking in all the clues around him, touching nothing and leaving all where he found it. He took some notes on the way, though the bizarre nature of the room would hardly leave a clean mark on his mind. For a moment Richard leaned out of doorway, shouting down to the others. "Hey fellas, how your looking going? You find anything yet?"

The Rain In The Cycolpean City. (H.P. Lovecraft/Cthulhu Mythos Roleplay)

Posting at this very moment, should be up within an hour or so!

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Alexander Polawski Location: The Bus (I5) -> (Q6) Skills: N/A

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The time passed for Alexander the equally old veteran as well as the generic old man - how quickly it passed was up for intense scrutiny and questioning. It was not the case that he did not pay attention to Daytona nodding back to him, neither Thalia nor Manny passing him before Atticus the preacher spoke up. He was not ignoring them, neither those he cared less about and those he cared immensly about. No, it was rather the polar opposite. His mind drew him towards those very special people, both alive and now long-since gone to their Lord.

Leaning his head up against the glass window of the school bus, Alexander listened idly to what was said by those in charge of the bus, though his mind was far, far away in deep thought. Something was swurling and drenching his mind. People, words and memories that reminded him of his past. Haunted? Perhaps, perhaps not. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered Atticus telling them to be armed when they went outside, but the only thing he could picture were a couple of images.

One of himself, armed with a M16A1 5.56 at the firing range somewhere in the US, training to be a decent rifleman before he was chosen to be the radioman and token sitting duck of the squad. He'd never touched a rifle in his life, let alone a weapon besides the normal knife or broken beer bottle from his father. Armed. Armed and dangerous, and that was meant to keep him safe?

The other memory was of an older Alexander, protecting his wife with a pistol he'd kept in their boat just in case. That was in the near past, though now it felt like a lifetime ago. And yet it was not far away, just the other side of the state of Florida, down towards the Carribean. Armed and ready to defend themselves. Judith, the one he was supposed to protect with his life, for good and bad. And yet he failed to do just that.

Looking out the window of the bus, coming up to the gate, Alexander sat for himself deep in those thoughts, separated from the current life he was living. He was safe and sound with the people he cared about, yet he felt no joy in their company. He only felt the betrayal towards those he let down.

A tear ran down his face. A single tear for the one person he'd loved, not the other one he'd betrayed.

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Nigel Cooper Location: Mess Hall (C) -> Streets of CMB (L5) Skills: N/A

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Nigel wasn't sure whether or not Thana agreed to his little jest at first, but it was apparent that Cook agreed to his promise. The neo-Roman teacher smiled back at her and nodded, agreeing to help Thana as much as he could, even if she didn't want to. Then again he was more than willing to exit the Mess Hall sooner rather than later, the onion air still hauting him as he tried a few tears running down his face. Compared to the sea water of the Gulf of Mexico, the onions were the Red Sea, and not in a good way.

One word stuck out to Nigel though, but any attempt at elaborating on it had to be cancelled as Thana looked at him, though with a smirk that made Nigel smile once again. Soon Nigel followed Thana out of the Mess Hall and out onto the humid streets of Camp Mexico Beach. It must have been how the Roman legions felt stepping onto Egyptian soil during the reign of Caesar, a foreign climate not familiar to them. The humid air hit Nigel just like it hit Thana, wiping the humidty off his face as if it hit him like a hot shower. Having given his goodbye's to both Moralez and Cook, Nigel was ready to head back to work down in Babylon. Babylon, so this meant Nigel was supposedly a Jewish slave of Thana?

Nigel walked beside Thana out onto the street, feeling the sweat start pouring down on him and his body, though he had to settle that it was better than freezing in northern Britannia, standing guard at the wall hence his name. "I know it's not for me to say, Thana, but…she was right. If you're recovering from whatever I won't poke my nose into, you have more than any right to put that load onto me. I'm ready to carry the world on my back, so to speak." Nigel referred to a certain Greecian carrying the globe, an Atlas if you would. He meant it. He was the newcomer here after all, not a veteran like the old General or even Cook and Moralez who had specialized jobs at the camp. For now Nigel was assigned to helped-duty, and he wanted to prove himself.

The Rain In The Cycolpean City. (H.P. Lovecraft/Cthulhu Mythos Roleplay)

@Haydrian CindelDoing well all things considered! The country is slowly opening up again this week, so been able to go do some shopping again. I think Norway has gotten it somewhat under control.