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27 days ago
Current It’s the first Wednesday of the decade my dudes
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He’s just looking for the Freddy Krueger to his Jason Vorhees
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This is the way.
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RPG is dead


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Kvasir had been busy punching trees outside until his knuckles were raw, but more importantly trying for the last half an hour to catch quite the elusive fly that had been pestering him for the last several days. This however was not guild etiquette especially in display of any onlookers even reporters to say the least. The violent giant still fresh blood to the guild was gently reminded of this by Aiden when he came waltzing outside. The mage full of grace and poise snatched the fly out of the air by its wings before handing it to the savage brute. He crushed it just as quickly as he obtained it leaving nothing more than a litany of body parts. Aiden spoke of a mission to some place called Bludmach, he didn’t really pay much attention besides a few grunts to show he was fine with whatever the guild needed.

The wagon was more or less, broken. It was quite the miracle it was able to house Kvasir, Eldrid who was rivaling his stature for a woman, and the dog that could stand on just his hind legs. Whether it was a party trick or magic, Kvasir couldn’t tell but similarly found it too exciting to care. Bludmach’s decrepit environment had done nothing in the way of alarming Kvasir. He had been used to seeing harsh environments on his way to Winter’s Blade from the countryside. Unfortunately for Klaus, Kvasir’s attention had been on him the entirety of the ride. Kvasir couldn’t help but feel a strange compulsion to comb through the dog’s fur looking for any kind of fleas or ticks.
”Haha silly doggy”
he thought until he was violently thrown across the wagon into the fiery red head. Kvasir propped himself up with what appeared to be a hand on Eldrid’s bosom.

Mention: 「 [@Everyone] 」

The first to respond was the gruff cowboy that had originally been the source of his tumultuous start to the race. All ill will for the burly man had seemingly left his body in one go as if he had burrowed his anger into his face already. Oddly enough his face did appear to have some off colored bruising now that he thought about it. Not putting too much stock into it he simply shrugged off the notion that the two could possibly be connected. Airbag however shook her head and open palm in unison before collapsing her face onto her head to hide further disappointment.

Making sure to continually stir his stew as to not burn any of the contents he simply cocked his eyebrows in retort to Simon. “Yeah matter of a fact she wasn’t the only one hunting this one over here. Not to scare y’all any further but I spotted one of them Nazi looking fellows gazing in her direction. Now I know that ain’t much to go off of, but after all the years of detective work, I got under my belt you start getting a gut feeling for these things. Shame it was off for you Simon, I do not know how I got that one wrong. Must of done something in a past life” Joseppi said laughing while attempting to taste his stew.

It needed a few more spices before it was complete otherwise it tasted succulent. Turning to his bag once more he noticed Annie had gone her own way and retrieved a tent. Joseppi was kind of bummed out having thought they were simply going to rough it out and sleep under the gaze of the starry night. A tent didn’t sound so bad once he thought it over. Perhaps first watch would go to him and free up some space for the others seeing as Simon was fat and Joseppi was no teacup himself.

The rest of the ingredients went in and he stirred a few more times before removing from the fire. He divided the stew into equal portions, hand delivering it to each of his newly found companions. Except for Donny who he somehow managed to lose, horse and all. He’d eventually find his way back or at the next neck of the race if anything. Sitting back down he faced Jules once more, “Yes quite wonderful. Now tell me this miss, how did a dainty thing like yourself get tangled up in this kind of mess with these kinds of people? You seem pretty harmless got a pretty face to keep you out of trouble even” Joseppi blew on his spoon before stomaching down his stew. “There’s something you ain’t telling me and I need to know if I’m going to protect you until the end.”

He stopped eating with the slights delivered by the devious woman, perhaps she was a criminal and just playing dumb. “That’s fine with me, the bounty never said I needed you back alive miss nor in one piece. Go with him if you want or that lady on that account” he continued, “I did catch a look and seems like he’s not the type you want to get wrangled with miss.” Joseppi finished his bowl before dipping into what would have been Donny’s. The fire crackled between the four of them, the only thing that drowned out the desserts silence.

The 90s were finally coming to a head and ending the year in what many believed to be set for disaster in the year 2000. The 90’s had really everything actually, from the trendy trapper keepers’ kids brought to school to the advent of the internet. That wasn’t all though, you had enthralling police chases like that of OJ Simpson in his famous white bronco, you could buy and bid on anything with the creation of ebay, and one of the best gifts of all, grunge music. The idea that there was one more year till they hit the 21st century was nothing less than enticing for Rocco. I mean it was the first time he ever lived through a decade that he could almost perfectly remember. One more year his thought lingering with him like a spirit attached to a house that just won’t quit. The promise of college and girls fashion inspired by the spice girls gave him hope for both future education and art.

Before he could dream anything however, a knock at the door followed by a timely ”Wake up!” that could be heard from the crack in his door. He would miss his mother being his natural alarm, he wasn’t quite used to using such antiquated systems like an alarm clock. The blaring noise interrupted his feng shui or so he claims. The cloyingly sweet aroma rising from the kitchen tugged at his nostrils and lifted him from his sateen sheets and privately escorted him downstairs without missing a beat. Breakfast had been served and nestled in the middle of the table. Cinnamon rolls were only for rare occasions and the last first day of his high school career was something that permitted such an occasion. Scarfing down a few morsels of his frosted delight, Rocco proceeded to get ready ensuring he had sufficient time to meet the bus at the end of the block.

The ride was all the same, trees in the distance with the signature flashing red lights halting traffic. School wasn’t much different; the halls were familiar yet strangers all at once. The bell rang and first period was underway only this time he wasn’t going to stay in class. Instead they were headed out to Museum of Natural History for the day. This would be perfect as his muse, he always appreciated the artistic values carried over millennia before him. There was more of the same droning procedure before they were finally loaded back onto the bus as if they were prisoners. It wasn’t until not even five minutes into the ride did he feel the sudden weight of another human’s head on his shoulder. Unbothered by her lack of sleep the boy simply ensured he’d wipe any drool dripping from her mouth off himself and her face with his handkerchief before she awoke.

The familiar smell of dirty water dogs and roasted peanuts had etched a serene smile on his face as he proceeded forward into the museum. Fossils of the king of the dinosaurs had been meticulously and carefully crafted together, completely innocuous the T-Rex stood but still demanded an heir of fear mixed with respect. He ignored what his other classmates had to say about the museum itself and instead planted himself down at the T-Rex and began to sketch ever so carefully, hoping to really capture the authority this figure had. T-minus five hours and counting before the start of the end or so he imagined.
Let's try this again shall we

Pls no bully
Will have an app up today quote me on that.
In Shelter 26 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Location: Teacher's Lounge -- Group Discussion

The heat was lifted from his skin having heard that one of the students thought his suggestion was a good idea. It was nice to be heard for once, but not just be heard but to be seen and known that you were right instead of holding it in and regretting it down the line. Although his suggestion was helpful the materials he carried in bag were not. After all what does a bug loving art kid bring to the table besides weird facts and a pair of tweezers most would just use to pluck their unruly hairs with? Nothing or well that’s what he thought at least. Emotions were obviously very high and the number of hormones and urge for both power and safety made it inevitable that personalities would clash, and ideas would turn to competition on who was the most correct. So, with the materials he had at hand he took a different approach, he did what he knew best, and he drew.

There was a purpose to his drawing, it’s not like he was drawing nothing or just another insect. Rather he was being to sketch early blueprints of the school from memory. He couldn’t count how many times he traversed the school halls, how many twists and turns you had to take to reach your class across campus in under five minutes before the bell rang. The numerous levels and empty rooms that laid idle after everyone was gone and it was just the after-school programs. And so, as people argued and offered advice whether it was helpful or not, he constantly closed his eyes and squinted trying to remember every last detail that could possibly help aid in their escape. Eventually the black lines along the white canvas sprung to life and illustrated the architecture of the school or at least in the best imitation a senior high schooler could provide. Despite everything he could recall from the years he’s been there he knew he had to ask around for help.

The athletic kids definitely would have more intimate knowledge of the track and field or the locker rooms he never set foot in. The only issue was slipping back into the lime light and commanding their attention once more. His realization soon began to trigger his social anxiety knowing his social battery had just recharged only to be depleted once more. Not having taken notice of the new arrivals he saw several more familiar and unfamiliar faces enter the fray, there was strength in numbers, right? Right? Who knows, maybe that was just made up dialogue saved for only horror movies with the same setting just as this. One of the students wondered if they were injured beyond psychologically and that made him chuckle. Another spoke in the same facet of Maslow’s hierarchical needs in regards to needing food, water and shelter only with the caveat of needing weapons structured from basic school supplies.

It was ironically nice to see the comradery between strangers in the hallways come together and synergize for a means to escape. That girl Elliot was confident, knowledgeable, and a leader; all things he was not but admired in this sort of scenario and she was funny too which always helped. Mounting enough courage to speak again he rehearsed over and over in his head ensuring he wouldn’t fuck up and look like an idiot, but he needed a Segway into the conversation. God or whichever deity you believed in must have heard his prayers as Bill pressed pause on the pandemonium and backtracked to something much simpler, names. A perfect way to interject, of course after Fitz had gone and introduced herself it was only natural for him to go next.

Clearing his throat, he spoke once more both clearly and concisely, “My name is Alexander, but you can call me Xan for short.” Knowing full well there was another Alexander in their ranks and he always asked his teachers to call him Xan anyways.

“And I uh kind of have been drawing the layout of the whole school. After we find some weapons maybe we can escape onto the roof or underground. If there’s anything I left out, you can see for yourselves and I’ll draw it in” his heart was beating a mile a minute more so now than when he saw the living dead feasting in the halls. Hopefully they would heed his plan of action.
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