Sigil

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Black James!

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Location: Newnan Courthouse Clocktower
Interacting With: His Thoughts, Ash

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The general air of Newnan, when viewed from above, didn't seem that much different from an hour ago when the place was a battleground. Maybe that was the more positive side to being a sniper - there was a certain removal of self from the scene unfolding. This battle had no hard choices. There was the living he knew, the living he didn't, and there was the dead. Protect those he knew, kill everything else. Done and done.

Adrenaline had been replaced with caution and watchfuless. Sometimes he would scan the perimeter through the scope of his rifle, other times unaided aside from a hand, shading his eyes. So far nothing of any massive interest, other than the cow, came into his field of vision. A lot had happened since the day began; it was a Game Changing kind of day. What began as a position of strength quickly transformed into a painful reversal of fortune. Just a few hours, and their little society was compromised. Oddly, what he wished for at that moment was company. Just someone to share the moment with. A spotter, or another sniper taking watch with him. But, it is what it is.

Finally, his marksman's eyes caught something in the distance. To the south, maybe southwest, a single line of smoke stretched heavenward. He thumbed on his Walkie to share the news.

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Ashton Holloway

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Location:
Interacting With: James, Newnanites

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"Smoke, huh? Could be nothing. Could be something. Thanks, James."

Ashton was interested in finding out what made his truck seize. If he had to round up the Dead inside the outer wall with a series of other vehicles, rather than use the Hordebuster, it would indicate a greater element of risk. That, and he really wanted his baby growling its booze-diesel engine again. Of the things he lost today, this was one thing he could do something about, now that they had a breather.

All the same, he couldn't neglect his town. Ash flagged down one of his people, to whom he'd given rooftop assignment, and sent him Zoie's way at the main gate to the south. "Rotate out, standard watch times. Back on schedules, people! We're at full alert. Everyone armed, everyone taking shifts."

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Bridgette Vinters

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Location: Smokey Road, Southwest of Newnan
Interacting With: Astrid, Bryn, Other Ladies On The Wagon

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Bridgette growled openly, unshouldering her shield yet again. She had really hoped to catch something that resembled a break today. The good news was that the still might. Day was fairly young. The bad news was that the break she was hoping for - not getting it yet. She guided her horse, Cadence, along with her knees, trotting between the wagon and the remaining Biters.

If there is any one benefit to being on horseback with an (almost) seven foot hewing spear, it's easy access to undead skulls and the most effective use of versatile range, short of using a projectile weapon. Bridgette made excellent use of her range, immediately lancing one of the rotting bastards through a barren eyesocket. The warrior maiden wondered, if but for a second, if the guy was missing the vision-providing orb before he was turned into a slobbering, gibbering gnawer of human flesh, or if the event that removed his eye transpired afterward.

The hypothetical question was quickly banished by the reality of her situation, however. On particularly aggressive corpse got a touch closer to her horse than she liked, arms outstretched and hungry. A quick parry with the haft of the spear connected with its arm just above the elbow, turning the monster sideways. Unfortunately, it didn't leave the most fluid of counterattacks available. Bridgette recovered her spear's balance just enough to embed the tip into its temple, necessitating the need to lean into it to remove the creature from the land of the upright. The weapon caught.

"Fucking Doublefuck Oreo piece of fuck..." he growled, illustrating the diversity of the word.

Faced with the decision of dropping the weapon or switching tactic, Bridgette opted for the latter. She kneed Cadence around to the side, dragging the corpse with them, and pounded the last Biter near her into eternal submission with the rim of her roundshield. The movement jostled her weapon free, much to the delight of both herself and her horse. The danger was far from over, she realized, cutting her internal victory dance short.

"If we're going to do something, we need to fucking do it and run." she imparted, as a piece of advice both sage and vulgar simultaneously. In truth, she would have preferred for them to merely take off. She might very well have, were it not for the continued presence of her only friend left in the world, Astrid. Her horse was more than sufficient to get her and another far away in short order. But no, this was the right thing to do. Not for the first time, Bridgette despised the concept of morality, doubly so because she still possessed it.

All in good time, maybe.

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

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Caesar Gonzalez

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Location: Apartment 2D (Alicia's), Street
Interacting With: Alicia, Lorna, Cecily, and a Very Anxious Reporter

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The alarm on the oven trilled softly, announcing the completion of the taquitos. Caesar pulled them from the heat with a big, puffy blue oven mitt and set the pan onto the stovetop. It was an example of fairly standard fare, as taken from an American perspective. He quickly set a dishcover atop the entree. These were the activities of normal people doing normal people things, for a normal people block party. All quite normal. All quite people. The Fuzzy Bunny incident aside, Caesar was beginning to feel somewhat at ease in his new surroundings.

Then the music stopped; the party abbreviated by scattered screams in the night. Caesar's illusions of having a pleasant vacation(ish) with family shattered as the terminal breath of one of Boston Height's residents hummed quietly into the unforgiving dusk. The venerable Mexican's features, the scowling of an old man coupled with tired smiles directed at his girls, fell away. He stood a little straighter, like a switch flipped inside of him, awakening something primal. Controlled, but savage.

The nanosecond after Alicia grabbed her weapon, Caesar had his at the ready, following her out of the apartment. Also in unison, he replaced his H&K .45 and assumed a less combative stance, weaving through the crowd toward the source of the disturbance. The body language of the two, Alicia and Caesar, practically screamed similar training, if not an identical basic skill set.

While his daughter took point, Caesar scanned the crowd for reactions that didn't seem to belong. Listening to snatches of conversation en route, he gathered that someone took an ungraceful swan dive from the building across the way. Supposedly, just like last time. This was either a dramatic statement in suicide, an amazing coincidence, or related to the last incident at the last block party. These questions would ordinarily be answered by the local police, but Caesar had heard rumors about the (ironically named) Justice Constabulary. These rumors reminded him of the brutal and corrupt Federal Police to which he once belonged. Just on a smaller scale. No, the former Commandant wanted his own people around him, whether or not they had any meaningful authority in this jurisdiction.

Caesar found Lorna in the crowd and locked eyes with her. He enunciated the single sentence in a clear, carrying voice, "Cookie! Back on the clock." and beckoned her closer with the tilt of his head, toward Alicia and the crime scene. He produced a piece of personal electronics from his front pants pocket, hit a couple of buttons, and transferred it to the lest breast pocket of his vest. A professional satellite phone, apped out and put to good use, he would now have a record of the events of the evening from his point of view, both on his device and in a company server for later retrieval.

Nearing the crime scene, Caesar noted with growing distaste that the more aggressive of the reporters were already making the area more chaotic. A young lady was attempting to do her job - apparently there was already a professional on scene - but it was made difficult by nihilistic media representatives and hamhanded locals. Caesar found the most irritating newsman, a moderately overweight loudmouth with the bullish habit of waving his arms back, as if to push people away who might get in the way of his view of the carnage. Fucking vulture. First on scene. He would make a fine example.

He approached on the reporter's flank, nearest the Examiner present, and clearly spoke, "Need to get by you, sir." while putting one foot forward, just inside the man's peripheral vision. A flailing hand caught a piece of Caesar's arm, which the older man gave in to, stepping back. The only offer of apology from the reporter came in the form of an indignant, "Don't get in my shot, asshole."

Caesar tried again. Same sentence, same step forward. (He was very glad to have recorded the event.) "Need to get by you, sir." The hand flailed back yet again, this time with greater directed force. The reporter actually looked back this time, too late to stop himself and too late to stop what occurred next. The Veteran Beater of Wholesale Ass grabbed the man by the wrist and jerked him halfway off his feet. Unwilling to let him hit the ground, yet, Caesar twisted the man's arm behind his back, wrapping his free arm around the pudgy guy's neck. Just before the reporter lapsed into unconsciousness, he heard a solid rasp whisper in a north Mexican accent, "You're tampering with a crime scene, fucko."

The former Federale took two steps back and let the man collapse onto the blacktop like a sack of squishy hams.

Returning to the edge of the scene, he held out his Private Security and Commandant (ret) credentials, addressed the Forensic Tech. "Ma'am. Police response times in this city are a joke. I have other two people on site right now. May we officially assist your investigation? We can start by holding back the vultures."

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

Keystone

Location: Road North of Salarn, Day Two

Interacting With: Lerraina

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Keystone was a man of great physical conditioning. It was a fact that no one could argue. Unfortunately, he was also a man of everpresent rage, bubbling just below the surface. Sometimes these two things didn't come together in a manner that was peaceful or socially acceptable. Luckily, he tended to have an outlet for these frustrations in the application of more martial pursuits. Just sometimes, his anger served to allow him access to the upper limits of his physical potential, as witnessed by the removal of the wheel from the mud a moment ago.

Of the many recent arrivals to the group, Keystone found his first impression of the woman was slightly more favorable than previous ones. Maybe it was because he had just released a load of angry and accomplished something constructive in the process. Maybe it was because she was pretty forward about not sharing, rather than attempting to be mysterious. Quite possibly, Keystone just lost the willingness to maintain effort necessary to continue giving a rat's hindquarters in the first place. So long as their employer and his wares remained safe until the completion of their contract, he was learning to let details slide.

When the new girl sided up to Keystone, he realized that despite his touch of favoritism, he wasn't about to immediately trust her. After getting the tarp back in place, the errant pugilist surreptitiously checked for his moneypurse while readjusting his coat and knives.

"Good on ya, Gretchin." remarked Keystone noncommittally. "Common name where I'm from, that. Mayhap we're neighbors." They continued for some time when he spoke again. "We got two more days north, til we get where we're gettin', Miss. Later on today, we're meetin' with our Guard Captain up ahead, scoutin' for a rest point. You'll like her. Smartassed archer type, y'see."

Keystone nodded at their new addition and continued plodding north alongside the wagon. He was still somewhat annoyed about missing the last couple of meals, but as one of his favorite sayings was The best meals are the ones y’look forward to, he was going to have one hell of a supper at the next opportunity.

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

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Caesar Gonzalez

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Location: Apartment 2D (Alicia's), Street
Interacting With: Alicia, Tank, The Landlord, and glorious, glorious, Taquitos

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The overall feel of the outside was a general building of emotion. Some good - the anticipation of a big event, meeting and partying with friends, meeting of new neighbors. Also, some bad - memory of past tragedy, the uncertainty that night in this city brings, fear of what might be drawn to the revelry and frivolities of the evening. This was a great city in which to expand his business, but perhaps the decision to take his hiatus here was the result of flawed logic.

Another possibility: Perhaps, much like Kwai Chang Caine of the immortal 1970's television series, just perhaps, the universe placed him exactly where he needed to be.

Caesar strode into his daughter's apartment with the same manner of observant confidence as he went about everything else in his life. He passed the neighbor guy's bike on the way in, noting its make, model, and plate number. Just a bit of information for later, if required. He flashed an obviously forced smile at the bike's owner, grunting an affirmation. Alicia was being nice to him. Open(ish). Neighborly, even. Considering their histories, that seemed a calculated risk. What starts out as a friendly gathering of colleagues and acquaintances, in his experience, often turns into a firefight. Maybe if Caesar knew more people here, he would relax his attitude. Until he did, however, there was a strange guy in M'hija's residence.

Trying his damnedest to not scowl, Caesar dropped a layer of shredded cheese on the last portions of the blessed application of meat and corn tortillas, the enigmatic yet comprehensible Taquitos. He punched a couple of settings on the oven, tossed them in, and turned his attention to the landlord, still occupying the room. To his credit, he was taking care of the problem with proficiency and expedience. Whether this was because of professional pride in is work or fear of partial evisceration was up for debate; nevertheless the creepy fellow went about his job.

As he waited for the cheese to melt, Caesar spoke to the landlord in his best Federale Commandant voice. "You have been here a long time, haven't you? I hear rumors about the woman who died." He leaned over the kitchen counter, peering into the living area at the man. "What do you know about it?"

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Black James!

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Location: Newnan Courthouse Clocktower
Interacting With: Doc Froggy, Ash

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The sovereign entity known (in this lifetime) as Black James maintained his vigilant post in the premier sniping position of the City of Newnan. A number of men in American history climbed a clocktower with a high powered rifle, intent on liquefying internal organs with high velocity, friction heated, chemically propelled lead projectiles. It might be said, however, that this was the first time a black man in overalls and a cowboy hat did this very act in the middle of a zombie apocalypse for the purposes of routing a skirmish of attacking cult members and the living dead; some of those dead delivered via air mail.

It was a day for firsts.

It was also the first time he gave over a blood sample for typing in a sniper's nest, too. When the good Doctor made his appearance, James was just a little shocked at first. He had grown accustomed to the presence of Vivian. Even the slightly uneasy feeling he'd get from her presence, a thing which he tried to avoid most of the time, left a hole with its absence. He was going to miss the crazy lady. Crazy, but dangerously intelligent. Luckily, she was on Newnan's side. At least he thought. Either way, it was a moot point; the town was poorer for her absence, and James would miss her.

"Hey hey, Doc. Take good care of my girl, nnkay? I brought her in here. Kinda feel 'sponsible for her now."

The doctor darted off, engrossed in his work. He jumped into his labors, doing what only he was capable of doing in this place now. It was good to know one's role in society. Even if that society is a walled off section of a city's Historic Downtown district after the entire world went to hell. Well, just as Newnan's new medical professional had a job to do, so did Black James. Damned important one, too. The vigilant marksman took up his rifle and scanned the perimeter of his home from his vantage point.

James's search near the Agricultural sections gave him considerable pause. He raised his face from the scope, rubbed his eye, and adjusted the focus. He looked again. Yup! Still there. The experienced man was simply not sure if this was a good or a bad thing, though. He cautiously reached for the walkie, eyes never leaving the scene laid out before him.

"Ash. Ash we got us a situation. We gots us a, uh, a cow, sir. Half dead inna hotdamn tree. Crowd of slow movers 'neath her, outside of the inner wall. She ain't long for the world, bossman."

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Ashton Holloway

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Location:
Interacting With: James, Zoie, Newnanites

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"A cow?" began Ash in a matter-of-factly tone. He really didn't need this shit right now. On the other hand, these setbacks just might provide a little motivation. "Uh huh. Heard on Cow. Save your bullets, keep an eye out."

Captain Holloway surveyed his little slice of Georgia, occasionally barking orders to the People of Newnan on the way. Most of his commands were the pragmatic type, cold and somewhat distant. Things like "Organize patrols. I want teams walking the walls." and "You, you, you, and you. I want you all on rooftops. Get rifles from Tom. Spread out." and "Start getting details together, round up these bodies. Keep ours separate."

"Alright, Cousin Zō. I have an ulterior motive, asking you along with. If you decide to stick around, I want the people here to see us speaking. Eases the transition. Also, when and if we receive another attack, more people need to know your face."

Ash brought the walk around to his personal means of conveyance, the Hordebuster. It was sitting out in the weather, unmoving, as if quietly waiting for something to occur. Possibly that thing was the return of its caretaker. Owner might have been too strong of a word, as the beloved machine had the closest thing to personality as any man made construct Ash had ever witnessed. Caretaker sounded slightly more accurate. Confident that the security of the Inner Wall was being handled, the good Captain sought to take care of his machine, the vehicle without which he and several others would have died long ago.

"This is the Hordebuster. She belonged to my family, while back. I rebuilt and repurposed her after the shit hit the fan and my people got sieged in for a couple months. Used to live in this truck. You were with Mr. Grady when you arrived in Ol' Girl, here. He, um... he took it out on a scouting and supply run. Now it's not functioning. I'd rather utilize this machine to round up the dead guys in the outer perimeter, than to risk more lives clearing it manually. Got to get her running."

The stalwart engineer gave his truck a good once-over, trying to see if an obvious answer revealed itself to him. That being barred, more inspection might be required.

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Bridgette Vinters

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Location: Smokey Road, Southwest of Newnan
Interacting With: Astrid, Bryn, Other Ladies On The Wagon

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Obviously, Bridgette had found a particularly open and charming young lady with which to make their life-or-death jaunt to the place that might or might not be there anymore. Great. Still, she would have probably hated herself if she didn't say anything at all to her. While she honestly couldn't begrudge the girl for being tight lipped, Bridgette had the distinct impression that she was being treated as an inconvenience.

One tall, foamy glass of Fuckit later, she realized that there were bigger issues at play than receiving a courtly introduction. Namely, all the dead people coming up behind them. Now that they had the stragglers all together and moving in the same direction, it was time to put a bit more distance between them and the horde. When the answer to her question about the spiky ballbat came out as a monotone grunt, Bridgette narrowed her eyes briefly, shrugged, and responded, "Fair 'nuff, Batgirl. We're over there."

Bridgette tucked away her shotgun and slung her shield across her back, now confident that the new girl wasn't going to immediately murder her. She took up her reins and urged Cadence forward, returning to Astrid and their wagon. She looked over the other girls that had joined them. "Any of you bit?" she blurted out, but without waiting for a response, began speaking to Astrid. "I saw the smoke. We get past it, maybe we can make some noise getting out of here. This is..." she motioned to the lady with the spiky bat, "She didn't say. We can braid each other's hair and make friendship bracelets later. Let's go."

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

@Dragoknighte

"'Ello then, Cyneburg. That's right, I can read y'bloody thoughts. I'm lurking' about inside yer sodding skull, then aren't I? That was right naughty stuff y'been thinkin' 'bout poor ol' Keystone, now wasn't it? But don't you worry. Not a bit. No ma'am, I ain't the grudge holdin' type, y'ladyship."

"Though I may hang my arse in your tent tonight and blast out a tooth-rattler. Ain't decided yet."

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash & Zoie

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Location: Newnan Courthouse
Interacting With: Each Other, People of Newnan

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"I've got questions, Cousin Zō. began Ash with only mild sarcasm. Otherwise, he seemed fairly emotionally dead. His eyes presented a faraway look, one that could be interpreted in a few opposing ways. Zoie perked a brow, he didn't exactly seem to be all there right then but after what she had seen go down since she arrived just a few scant hours ago she couldn't exactly blame the man if he was looking a few bricks shy of a load right then. "You seem to know an awful lot about the group attacking us. That would be something highly suspect, most instances. But you've taken a good number of lumps to get us this far. Zoie crossed her arms over her chest and nodded as she listened. She was carrying a fair number of bruises, but she could understand him being wary of her. Knowing about an outside crew could just mean she was part of it and a distraction. Granted that was what most people would think but Zoie was sadly one of those that trusted people until she was proven she shouldn't.

He paused for a second, sifting his vision to the courthouse doors behind her. "You earned Caesar's trust. I have no idea how. He was no soldier, but he was the finest warrior I have ever known. I trust his instincts about people." Caesar? Oh he must be talking about that machete wielding Mexican she had to put down outside by the armory, so that was his name? She wished she had known it before hand but some times we weren't granted such luxuries. She still didn't know the name of the Marine who died out there or the woman who Richard helped her get inside when everything went down; heck she had just learned Maria's name.

"Here's the deal: We need new people to take leadership positions here. Once we get the Inner Wall squared away and push to retake the rest, I want our soldiers knowing that they're listening to me first and you second. After this is done, our domestic personnel will be taking cues from Meghna... but that's down the line a ways. I need a Second, and now." Another name for her to learn. Zoie wished she had a notebook to take these down or that people were wearing one of those "Hello my name is" stickers on their shirts.

"It would mean that you would be a part of this community, better or worse, subject to the same rules as the rest of us. But it also means you'd have a home. If you're willing, your first order is to brief me concerning the invaders, and advise on their most probable course of action, given circumstances."

"I'sa completely getcha Boss, and I be willin' to tell ya everythang I knows about them Eden folk; whether or not I stay. Thang is though, I can't says I will stay and such if I don't be knowing what I be getting into ya know? You say rules but I can't be agreeing to nothin' without knowin' whats I be agreeing to. Fer all I know one of yer rules is I have to be wearing a tea cozy on me head, stripped down naked, smothered in mulberry jam, and be singing Jerusalem on Friday nights as entertainment. Now don't get me wrong, would be a rip roaring good time but I ain't wearing no tea cozy," Zoie said in all seriousness. She might have made a very valid point; she didn't want to agree to any rules before she knew what those rules were, but she had put it in the most drawn out southern way possible.

The concept amused Ash, though it didn't show outwardly. For the briefest of moments, he looked over this new lady, trying to figure out her angle. "You're safe. We're out of tea cozies. Can't promise the jam, either, least not mulberry." He sighed, debating the wisdom of his choice. But she was right. No sense signing a contract unless you read it first.

"This town, such as it stands now, was established under military command. It has gone through changes, as needed to make the community work, but essentially we exist under martial law with a clear chain of command. Concessions have been made. It is not perfect. But we try. Newnan is a stern but fair place where everybody works that is able, everybody fights that is able, and everybody has a job to do. Punishment is fast and decisive. If at any time you don't want to be here, you are free to leave."

Zoie listened and nodded slightly before she said anything, taking a moment to consider things. Shrugging a bit she placed her hands on her hips. "That be soundin' fair enough buts I have to be talkin' with Froggy and Honkey Tonk b'fore I's decide. Froggy done been my partner out there for a time and I be trustin' him more than anyones. Richard, well he done got jumped once here whislt tryin' to help; so I's gotta make sure nutin' like that be happenin' again. Sure's you can understands that. But I let ya know, gonna have to be givin' me a day or two to thinks it over. I ain't one to ever wants to be a leader but if it be needed, Isa do it. Life ain't bouts surviving, it be about livin," she said as she glanced around the room some. The people looked worn and tired but at least they were alive; most of them. She wouldn't stay if Froggy didn't feel safe there and she wouldn't stay if Richard getting jumped became a constant thing either; why she didn't know but he'd had her back so far so she'd have his.

Life is about living, not surviving. It's a thing Alicia says, said, a lot. A pile of raw emotion began to claw its way up from somewhere deep, deep down in his soul. It didn't stand a chance at breaking through, unexpected though it was. Nevertheless, a chill passed over him and his desire to continue the conversation abated considerably. "Fair enough. Get with Meg, she'll set you up with accommodations here in the building. Young lady from India, she came in with me. Should still be around. Let me know when you've come to a decision. I'm going to take stock of our assets before we plan for the next push."

Ashton nodded curtly, and left to attend to Newnan. Zoie gave the man an odd look as he walked off. His mind must have been elsewhere. Shaking her head she stepped after him and got in front of him, holding her hands out. "Hun, your head in the clouds or sumthin'? Isa told ya, stay or not I tell ya about Eden, that was what you wanted to knows about to begin with whatent' it?" she asked, hoping to jog his memory a bit and get him focused. That was one of the first things he had asked about.

"Well of course, Zoie. Let's tour defenses meantime." In truth, it had slipped his immediate mind. Logically, Ash knew that he was becoming emotionally compromised. Also logically, he knew he was necessary to rally and command what remained of their soldiery. Everyone else in a position to do so was either dead, or so new as to be considered an outsider. He had to see the emergency through, one way or another. Hopefully, putting his trust in these people and leaning on them was the best course of action. "Walk with me. Tell your story en route."

"Sounds like a plan." Zoie nodded as she stepped over to the door and held it open for Ash, waiting for him to step through before she came up beside him. Taking a breath she thought back to her days with Eden and everything that entailed, shuddering viably before she shook off the cold chill that ran down her back and looked over to Ash; clearing her throat a bit before she spoke.

"Eden, that where them people come from. It ain't no paradise I can tells ya that. Runs by a man named Adamm, known as Father to his people. They be the right nastiest bunch of folk on Gods green Earth they be. Not them nasty folk you see out there just tryin' to survive. They be sadistic. Have this place not far from here ov'r in Peachtree. They has it set up like them 9 lavels of hell from that damn book bys that Dante fellow. Each area is another punishment used to brainwash folk. Things they do there... Well, be the most twisted devious thang. I'sa got captured by them when out on the road alone, barely got out with my throat intact, won't be going into what I suffered. They be bad people Mr. Ash. None worse than Adamm and his right hand man Nathen, better known as Cain. They be attackin' here means they been stalkin' the place. Means they be back to. Theys normally just hit and run buts they lost today; they be wantin' revenge," she said as she wrapped her arms around herself and walked with Ash around the streets of Newnan. She knew how they were, she had survived it. The place might be secure for now but she knew they would return. Adamm never let his people loose without striking back.

"Well then, we should ready a warm welcome, shouldn't we?"

Bridgette Vinters

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Location: Smokey Road, Southwest of Newnan
Interacting With: Astrid, Bryn

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Sure! Of course we get into an ethical quandary after being caught up in front of the vanguard of an approaching army of dead people. Just peachy. This is precisely the life Bridgette envisioned when she signed up for classes back at Chicago Industrial A&D. Yes, as she stepped up to get her diploma, she knew that one day, she'd be decked out like an extra in Braveheart, involved in a slow speed chase with a couple hundred dead guys, wondering if it's worth the risk to offer assistance to others who don't know they're about to selected as the mealtime centerpiece by walking corpses.

Bridgette sighed. "Goddamnit..." she breathed heavily.

"Fodder or do we do the right thing and help?"

"No, we should at least warn them. I'll get the one with the ballbat. Meet you in the middle." Not generally the altruist, this was an occasion to try being neighborly. They did need people. These were people. Maybe they could help one another. On the other hand, Bridgette was not stupid, either. She removed her sawed-off shotgun from its resting spot and gripped it behind her shield, as a Viking from a past era might have concealed a spare axe.

Reining her horse onward, the modern day Shield Maiden rose slightly in her saddle, effectively shifting her ride into higher gear. She was confident in her partner's ability to take care of herself. Besides, even if these people meant to perform horrible acts of murder and degradation, the wall of zombies rounding the hill would definitely effect a postponing of said plans until more favorable conditions existed.

As she approached the survivor, Bridgette slowed her horse and maneuvered her speartip up and away from the woman. The pace came to a slow walk as she introduced herself in a terse and direct manner. "Name's Bridgette. Fucking horde a half hour behind us. We might know a place with walls a few miles up. C'mon!"

"Real nice Bitch Smacker. Your work?"

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

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Caesar Gonzalez

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Location: Street
Interacting With: Alicia, Random Neighbor

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Caesar accepted the frosty barley pop from his daughter and took a long pull from it. A lot of people considered themselves too sophisticated to slurp beer from a can; in truth the older man himself preferred his suds from a bottle or from the tap. But free beer was a wonderous gift that should never be questioned nor scoffed at, regardless of the container in which it is presented. Truly, a gift of alcohol can cement familial bonds and make strangers into fast friends. Or start a knife fight. Even money with La Familia Gonzalez.

And speaking of La Familia Gonzalez, he was having just a bit of a bonding moment with Alicia, especially considering his unexpected addition to the Block Party Buffet. All the same, he did want to help out with the culinary endeavors representing the visiting soldiery of the basement apartments. Or in simpler terms, it was coming very close to Taquito Time.

"Right, they are pretty much ready. We just gotta stick them in the oven for a little bit. Didn't figure you would have a dish to bring, so I went ahead and covered for you. Looks like that was a waste of time,"

"Nah, M'hija. Never a waste of time. Let me drop this off in some ice and I'll get right on it, ok?"

The place Alicia had pointed out was a lovely spread of tabletop pot luck. Toward one end, he found an open cooler with an array of frozen blue gel packs. Caesar shoved aside a soda or two and nestled his Engelatos into the open spot. A glance upward revealed the owners of the cooler, looking at him quizzically. He softened his face somewhat, trying not to appear as a man who would impose and/or intimidate to acquire minor conveniences. While he might have failed his attempt to appear normal, he did receive a permissive nod from one of his previously unmet neighbors.

In return, he nodded back and unwrapped one of his frosty yet searing delights and presented it, as one might give over a firearm to a trusted compatriot. The intense dessert gifting completed, he returned to his M'hija without bothering to see the horrifyingly unexpected results of the uninitiated consuming his spicy sweetness.

"Let's get to those taquitos, then." He began walking back to Alicia's apartment, attempting to tow her along. "Hey, when we're done in the oven, how about you and Cookie introduce me around a little, eh? I meet new people, sometimes things happen."

"Hey, did you actually tell that guy he could park his bike in your patio?"

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

Keystone

Location: Road North of Salarn, One hour north of Camp

Interacting With: Cyneburg, Satilla, Cremwise, Lerraina

Keystone was a huge fan of an open forum. It gave people open and equal opportunity to speak their minds in a civilized manner, free from distractions in a quiet, controlled venue. If handled properly and in a respectful manner, one may share their ideas with the group without needless fear of being talked over or shouted down.

Unfortunately, no one has ever held a successful town hall style meeting in the middle of the road in the hammering rain while potentially pursued by war hungry Orcs. Keystone listened to the suggestions presented, falling quiet for a moment. He let his mind drift, trying to put himself in a happy place. A place with bubbling pots and frying sounds, with cool, lightly overcast weather. Maybe his happy place was back home, far to the north. Yes, Home.

For Keystone, home was a largeish house in a poor part of a grand walled city. Long ago, that district was a place where merchants set up shops and built their homes, a place of music and respectable inns. But tendencies of the economy moved active trade away from the area, causing employment to shift to other districts and urban decay to set in. Decreased presence of respectable folk and town guard allowed for a criminal element to infect the area, and with the slow surety of a turning millstone grinding hard wheat to flour, time began to erode a once prosperous region of the massive city into a potentially dangerous place.

Still, this was Keystone's Happy Place. Not the whole area, though. Just his home. Once upon a time, it was an inn. It had become run down, eventually being used as cheap housing for the poor. In this place, Keystone and his mother lived a frugal existence, until he came of an age where his large size and ethical apathy gained him a spot fighting in a somewhat illegal circuit of brawlers and prize fighters. All the fun of gladiatorial games, pure fisticuffs. And they fought in so many places, both opulent and squalorly. It wasn't until Keystone's studies branched away from solely occidental technique that his meteoric rise was cemented ... but that was a tangent not suited to his Happy Place.

His winnings, rather the savings from his winnings, eventually allowed the uncouth brawler to purchase outright the building that served as his home of youth, giving it to his mother. Continued winnings made it more of a home and less of a squat. Before his decision to leave that place, he had established within the structure a marvelous personal kitchen, and upon the roof a tidy garden of herbs and local vegetables. It was that roof, in the early autumn air, snipping and harvesting, that was chiefly regarded as his Happy Place.

In the mental oasis of his Happy Place, Keystone had the dubious distinction of clubbing his present teammates to death with a bit of garden sculpture and dumping their disarticulated bodies into next season's compost.

Back in the physical world, with the rain still descending solidly from the dim, grey heavens, Keystone rubbed his temples impatiently. His teeth, great blunted things with points necessary for the rending of roasted haunches, tightened against each other with irritated tension. It can be said that the man had pressing anger issues; issues he struggled to keep under the protection of patience and wisdom. It can also be said that, in its own limited application, the Errant Pugilist did some of his best work when tinted with rage.

"Bloody, pissdamned socket-cocking 'ell! Only thing we fonging well need do is move the bloody wagon two hands upward! We ain't needin' any bronzecocking magic," he ranted, eyes narrowing at Cyneburg, "and there's nary a codswinging chance I'm takin' hours puttin' sodding booties on Cremmy's wagon! Got an understandin', 'ave we?"

Alarmed at the sudden aggressive change of tone, Kyra's dire wolf, Ash, cautiously stepped from the wagon and squared off with Keystone, who was obviously venting adrenaline into the air in levels palpable to his heightened sense of smell. The young wolf could tell the scent of anger, and recognize potential danger in the massive human. Ash rasped a deep, throaty growl and bared his teeth at Keystone, stepping slowly toward him to elicit submission. It did not have the intended effect.

Keystone looked incredulously at the beast, as he would a troublesome bar patron. He extended two fingers upward in what amounted to a rude gesture in his homeland, exclaiming, "Sodding funnin' me, you are - Piss off!" Ash cocked his head to the side, slightly confused, before resuming his previous, threatening manner. In response, Keystone threw back the tarp on the back of the wagon, retrieving a short chub of hard, red sausage from his provisions. "Wouldja piss off for an Ashy Snack? Oi, wouldja?" he said with faux cheerfulness, tossing the forcemeat at the instinctually protective wolf.

Riding the heat in his blood, Keystone turned to the wagon and grasped the low corner with his huge, conditioned hands. Eyes bloodshot, voice edged with profound irritation, he let out a sustained, wordless grunt and he leaned into the smooth wood of Cremwise's wagon. Slowly, the wheel began to rise from the mud and gravel below. Keystone's teeth bared. His scars seemed to darken even as his face colored with rage and strain. He looked as if he meant to kill someone or something, and channeled this into the one task of lifting a wheel onto a rock.

"Cremmy!" he strained through clenched teeth, "Drive it on now."

Cremwise gave the reins a quick shake, prompting the horseflesh to pull forward a foot or two. It was more than enough. Keystone fell to a knee before righting himself. When he did, he turned to the newcomer with a much calmer, but terse voice nonetheless. "You wanna come with, that's just tops. Otherwise, you can wander about in dangerous wood by your lonesome. We're sodding off."

"Tell us 'bout y'self on the way."

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Black James!

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Location: Newnan Courthouse Clocktower
Interacting With: Zoie

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James accepted the bottled water and jerky with muted gratitude. His attention was focused primarily on the horizon. Just because this mess wasn't getting any worse, yet, it didn't mean that the fun was over. As a matter of fact, this seemed like the perfect time for something even more diabolical to occur. Three separate supply and exploration runs ruined, simultaneously, by different horrible events. Walls coming down. Invasion by a hostile community. Mounting deaths of almost all of Newnan's Inner Circle people. ZOMBIE FUCKING TORNADO. He got to see a very good friend chewed to pieces by the Dead. He also got to see the lady who was supposed to back him up abandon position and get her arm gnawed on. No, today was a Massive Heap of Suck, possibly moreso than any other day he had experienced so far. And he was living in an actual Apocalypse.

"Hey hey, Little Miss Zoie. Thanks ya much. Hey, how's Maria?"

He unwrapped one of Newnan's precious few Slim Jim Teriyaki Beef Sticks, and ripped into it with a distinct absence of refined manners. "Sorry, Zoie. Didn't know I was hungry." He took a long pull from the bottle of water, and offered it to his temporary company. "It's been a good, long while, girl. How've you been livin' the last few, huh?"

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Ashton Holloway

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Location:
Interacting With: Froggy, Edenite, People of Newnan

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One of Newnan's defenders jogged up to Ashton and pressed an MRE into his hands, followed by a by a bottle of room temperature water. "Sally says hello, Sir." he hastily intoned before running back off to distribute various food items to those that needed it. Absently, Ash placed it under an arm and walked over to the Courthouse. The protective gates were up, allowing less restricted access from the outside. The majority of Newnan gathered around said courthouse, their central meeting area, almost out of habit. It was an interesting trait of humanity to gather in groups during times of emergency. It was also useful for communicating to the people all at once.

That would have to wait for a little bit, however. Ash had to take stock of the status of his town. Grim faced and resolute, he entered the Courthouse and moved to the Infirmary first. He knocked hard on the still barricaded door, proclaiming loudly, "Doc! Inner Walls are secure. You're good to open and receive wounded."

There were many gathered around the Infirmary. Some injured, most not. Ashton stopped one that looked rather aimless, intoning in an almost monotone, "Find me Zoie. She's hard to miss. Real Southern, real loud. Came in here with Maria. I need to speak with her, now."