Sigil

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

The issue, as I see it, is that you are passing along information that the characters would not otherwise possess. The contents of your pack, for instance, to a character that has not searched it, or the effects of the potions in your pack.

As this would give pertinent and specific information to the situation (ie, your character will wake up and be active again once another character opens your pack, finds the red potion, and pours it into the guy), it is the very definition of metagaming. As would anyone acting on that knowledge.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ashton Holloway

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Location: Courthouse

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The look on Ash's face was that of pale duality. His face was emotionless stone, despite the blatant chewing out he had just administered to one of his oldest living friends. The eyes told a different story, however. Pain and rage warred with each other, threatening to burst out at any moment. It was a dam looking for a moment to crack open, though whether it released grief or madness lay open to speculation.

Zoie approached, seemingly with some hesitation. Ash could only imagine how disheveled and unstable he appeared. The gun probably didn't help much, either. Numbly, he holstered his weapon and turned his head to the Very Very Southern lady, listening to her speak. Ash breathed the tiniest sigh of relief when the news came back that the horde had been diverted, and nodded soberly at the clarification that they were indeed diverted to Eden.

The thought had occurred to him that willingly moving the horde in a specific direction may cause some casualties among the innocent - if Eden was such a horrible place there may well be prisoners there, or bystanders between Newnan and Peachtree that would get swept away by the flood of the Dead. On the other hand, an obvious and major threat like a couple thousand corpses funneling down the highway would give excellent cause for random folk to flee for their lives. It may even give people held by the bastards in Eden opportunity to escape. While Ash held no delusions that his orders to divert the horde would result in only good, beneficial things for decent people and horrible, justified ripping deaths to bad ones, his first priority was to the people of Newnan. Moving the horde was good for the community. Moving the horde to Eden, while not compassionate in the slightest, was also good for Newnan.

Others die so that his people could live. That's just the way the world worked now. Look after your people, make damned sure they're worth it.

Ash raised an eyebrow upon hearing that Zoie accepted his offer to take over as his Second. He had already made his decision on the matter earlier in the day, but fate conspired to deprive him of his first and second choices. His difficulties with Vivian notwithstanding, she would have made an excellent leader. Caesar? The old man was powerful, respected, and already was a great leader of men before the world turned to shit. Selecting a newcomer was a huge stretch for him, but Caesar backed her in his final moments. Besides, with all of the new people coming in that day, it would favorably influence the loyalty of the rest if recent additions were given positions of authority.

At that moment, Kristina returned from the tower. She locked eyes with Ash and began speaking as if she did not notice the conversation that he was already in. The mentally shaken Captain held up one finger, indicating with irritation that he would be with her momentarily. He held his gaze at the young woman for a moment longer, before returning to Zoie. "Maybe later. Place not too far from here, fella can get a drink. I have some things first, need my attention."

"You." he said with lowered voice, to Kristina. "You and I have both had a very bad day. Before our really bad day ends, there are a few things you need to know. First: You give no one orders in this place. I have no idea why you thought that was acceptable, but it's not. Second: Report to the Armory and turn over your sidearms. Tom will assign you a lock box. Until I know if you're a loose cannon, you're strictly civilian here. Third: Sally will assign you quarters. I strongly suggest you settle in for the evening. You are dismissed."

Ashton looked back to Zoie and nodded curtly. He flatly stated a simple, military "Ma'am." and briskly walked off. The last few rays of the sun outlined his form as he strode out of the front door, past the wagon, and around to his personal quarters in a building that used to be called "Wynn House", a former dwelling converted to an antique store, re-converted into housing. Having rank gave him slightly better accommodations. A mote of privacy, at least. Soon, he would have to deal with the quarters of the fallen Newnanites, a task he was not anxious to begin.

Before he could get more than a few meters from the Courthouse door, he heard James' voice call from his truck. "Boss! Hey there, Bossman! Yo, we gots us a cow, um, caught in some branches from befoe. She just dead, or real near to it. Can I get some couplea boys and get Besse down? Maybe fire up Mr. Smokey and get us a good meal set up fo tomorrow?"

Ash never addressed the man directly. Instead, he spoke into his walkie, communicating with the Gate, "James Grady and a small party are handling an issue near Agriculture. Let them pass." As an afterthought, he continued, "And someone from Domestic, find a grassy spot inside the wall that the Valkyries can set up on for tonight."

James intoned a cheerful message of gratitude and began turning his truck around, while Ash continued to his quarters, emotions high but still buried beneath the stone that was his psyche.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

@Caits

Maybe I can make this easier on you. What I need in this time are your suggestions for character jobs. I already have a good idea where I want people as primary occupations; secondary (or things they want to learn in basic) is mostly what I'm after. Relationship sheets need to be completed soon, true, but right now it's all about jobs.

What role do you want your character to fill inside Newnan, and/or how do you want her to grow in this next month?

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

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Keystone

Location: Storehouse, Road North of Salarn, Day Three

Interacting With: Sana, His Ow Thoughts

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And with that, Cremwise's Merchant Extravaganza was back on its way north. Luckily, this was the direction that Keystone had wanted to go overall; it moved him a little closer to more familiar climates and methods of food preparation. The weather lightened up considerably, giving them less to worry about from above despite the continuing difficulty with mud from below. The group slogged along next to the creak and roll of the wagon, still laden with its mystery cargo. More than once, Keystone debated pulling back the canvas covering the wares within and finding out for himself what he and the others had shed blood to protect. Maybe tonight, if they were still on the road by then. Maybe never. To the massive brawler, it was even money either way.

While cautiously perusing his feelings on the subject, a question sounded from slightly above him. It was Sana, curious as to his egress from the realm where the two of them had first met. Thinking back on the loathsome circumstances of those few days; the egomaniacal people he'd met there, the flesh dissolving rain, terraforming blue sand (Blue Sodding Sand?!), and the myriad of dead things in an otherwise idyllic landscape. Story of his life - he seemed destined to continually fight the living dead, in its many, corpse-foul forms. The harder he attempted to circumvent this, the more certain it was to find him.

"Dunno how I got out, Miss Sana. P'raps the same way I got in. Still got them knives what I snatched up out that way. Meat, too. Some o' them 'ard sausages an' jerky we been eatin' - Hellhound. Acquired me a taste for the sulphury bugger; thinkin' on writin' recipes most infernal for it. Maybe somethin' with eggs."

He shrugged nonchalantly, continuing on his way.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

@Caits @Nallore @Sigil @Charnobylisk

Ello ello, people. Your Friendly Neighborhood Co-GM here.

Thanks to the horrifying and random effects of Lady Luck, my character Ash is now (by default) the commanding officer of the Newnan Community. As such, I have the interesting task of, through Ash, assigning jobs for the newcomers and shuffling about the few surviving members to fill gaps. This will include a small "Command Staff", taken from the ranks of Lead positions.

I will be operating under the assumption that, over the first few days, Ash and Zoie will be taking interviews with the newer arrivals. Decisions will be made behind closed doors, and the results will be made public afterwards. These interviews will be about your character's backgrounds, skill sets, and opinions of each other (if applicable).

Some jobs may be left unfilled, with the assumption that NPCs will take over the mantle. One such example is our good friend Tom, from the Armory. Tomory? No every job will be glamorous. Moreover, not every job will be a Command Position. Do not expect to give orders to the guys on security detail if you're tending garden or mucking out stables. Every job is important, however.

So, here's what I need from you:

If you haven't gotten back to me on this, I need you to PM me with your Relationship ideas and positions you think your characters can realistically do, considering skill level and social factors. Sending me a message to ask what I think doesn't count. If you can give me an idea to work with, great. New ideas are appreciated. But remember: Not a democracy. Final decision comes down to Ash (Me) as to people's jobs.

I will be posting jobs and job descriptions within 24 hours. If you haven't gotten back to me in this time, the decision will be made without your input.

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

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Caesar Gonzalez

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Location: Dockside

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Caesar always did like riding a motorcycle. Now this means of conveyance wasn't exactly a motorcycle, persay, but it used to be. Even went by the same local laws governing its operation. The Harley Scorpion Reverse Trike he owned was originally procured for a gig in Seattle. A badass looking street machine that was more stable than a standard bike, accounting for the hills, curves, and ubiquitous wet weather present in the United States Pacific Northwest. He thought it was a little hokey at first, until he got used to it. Reliable machine. Handled like a dream, despite its construction, and even allowed Caesar to lean into turns like a standard bike while maintaining three wheels on the blacktop. He honesty wondered why he'd never thought to get one before.

It was perhaps going to be the only pleasant experience of his day; that ride out to the docks. The way things were shaping up, shit was bound to happen. If he was around, it tended to. So he was intent on making the best of it, not quite losing himself in the moment of pure, motorbiking enjoyment, but sparing no opportunity to really open the old girl up when it was presented. The engine fired off a well-tuned mechanical growl, not as fierce as the older models that Harley-Davidson put out back in the day, but respectable and sleek. The engine itself could massively outclass any of the old-school models. The designers just didn't feel the need to make it roar as loudly.

All too soon, the venerable Mexican found himself pulling into the one obvious parking lot in the area. There didn't seem to be a whole lot of foot traffic, and finding a spot to park was a breeze. He ambled up a couple of spaces away from a familiar looking truck, curious. Carefully, he pulled off his helmet, letting the sea air waft through his long and seemingly perfectly conditioned hair, opened the front of his long coat (for ready access) and began stepping in the direction of his investigation. While passing the familiar truck, he stopped. A man was leaning against it; a man he knew. Or at least knew of.

Caesar remembered him from the party. Now, if he remembered correctly, one of his girls took an interest in him. Yeah, that's the guy. There was a touch of suspicion, him being in this place. Happening to pop up the very moment he began looking into the evidence he had just uncovered. Maybe it was a coincidence. Either way, Caesar had seen Lawson, and Lawson most likely had seen him. It would have been even more suspicious not to say something, now that they were aware of each other.

"Orale, Smoker-boy!" he started in friendlyish tones. It slipped into something just a hair darker as he continued, his eyes involuntarily narrowing against the sun reflecting on the ocean in the background, "Fuck you doing here, ey?"

Even if this was just a strange coincidence, it would put a wrinkle in what was supposed to be a quick and quiet look around.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Bridgette Vinters

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Location: Atop the wagon, in front of the Courthouse

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The girl who touched her horse seemed to take offense at Bridgette's helpful and informative monologue concerning her people's etiquette on equestrian familiarity and requisite actions which, if following protocol, must be taken to ensure unchallenged physical contact thereon. The rules in this particular exchange, as described by the taut and svelte Illinois native, involved the offering of victuals or the giving of stress-relieving oral gratification. To Bridgette's thinking, this was a fair exchange of goods and/or services, suitable for a few minutes' time caressing her most prized of horseflesh; her destrier with the militarily musical name of Cadence.

Then again, if Bridgette were being honest with herself, she was definitely being a bitch.

The girl had issues, certainly. Granted, she was being overly informative with her situation, a point which one of less scruples would use against her if the opportunity arose. Nonetheless, Bridgette was incapable in that moment of letting the challenge go unanswered, at least in some tiny, barely meaningful way.

Thusly, in response, Bridgette widened her eyes and made a derisive face at the retreating girl's back, complete with protruding tongue. She extended her very best One Fingered Salute with as much gusto as was manageable, overall looking slightly like a very annoyed tween despite her more mature stature. The mail-clad scrapper chuckled slightly at herself. She was glad to be alive, glad to be behind walls right now with people, live people, who didn't want to kill her. At least, not yet. No, Bree likely had much more in the way of "being herself" before the actual death threats began. If she had a drink at the moment, she would have toasted to it.

The next couple of moments passed as rather a comma in the great sentence of the moment; that is to say a brief pause before something else noteworthy occurred. Bridgette checked her bundle of food, even nibbling a little bit on the dried meat provided. She couldn't quite pick out the flavor from meat she had tried before. It wasn't obviously one thing or another. Perhaps she should have asked. Nonetheless, her voiceless, internal inquiry was cut short by a sudden feeling of being watched. It was a cold, hollow feeling, perhaps conveying the emotion (or lack thereof) emanating from the viewer. This felt of dread.

Bridgette slowly turned, the look of contempt draining from her face, to see that the door to the Hordebuster had opened. Ash was emerging from his Safe Place, and he looked righteously pissed off. The .45 in his hand did little to soften the image.

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Ashton Holloway

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Location: Hordebuster, Courthouse

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Ash couldn't believe it. Absolutely could not.

Not the scene with the Viking Blacksmith; Ash had known her for almost an hour, and it was enough not to be surprised at what was transpiring on and near the wagon. If he had the capacity for emotion at the moment, the line about Cunnying her fucking Lingus would have sent him spilling out of the truck with gales of whooping laughter, possibly banging his head against the steering wheel repeatedly on the way down. Ash wanted to hate the tall woman. He wasn't sure if he could.

No, it was the impromptu and unauthorized changing of the guard up top in the Sniper's position. Leaving post was what got their Agriculturalist killed. Going against orders in this place can get you unceremoniously executed. And this man personally knew Ash - had worked for his family for some time, and had been with him almost since the beginning of this mess. One of Ash's Virginia Folk acting in this manner was unthinkable.

The incensed Captain swung open the door to his massive, undead herd destroying truck, and stepped out. He drew his Detonix .45 pistol and let it hang by his side, striding purposefully to the Courthouse door. Ash passed the wagon, perfectly aware that the tall woman dressed in metal was staring at him, not particularly caring. He had other business to handle that didn't involve him being berated for doing his job. The front doors swung open before Newnan's New Commanding Officer, propped open by nearby citizens doing nearby citizen things. Just inside the ingress, Ash met up with the man who had just left the clocktower.

His name was Guy. And Guy was in a lot of trouble.

"Stop. Right there." he began, his voice low and hollow sounding, amplified and echoy due to the acoustics of the building and his position within it, plus the raw, grating emotion injected into every word. "You need to tell me exactly the fuck why you decided to follow the orders of a teenaged girl who's been around less than a day, with zero authority within these walls. You need to tell me right goddamned now why you abandoned your post against orders - my orders - and relinquished your rifle to someone you don't know."

The man stared at Ash, eyes wide, deer-in-headlights style. Not allowing him to respond just yet, the Captain continued, "You don't have a bullet in you because we go way back, but this is the end of my mercy. Now, get your ass back up to your post. Get your weapon back, and do your fucking job! First thing tomorrow, you report to me for your work assignment. As I obviously cannot trust you to stand watch, I'm going to find something a little less important and a LOT less pleasant for you to do for the next month. Now, move your ass, Guy!"

Noise ceased. People scarcely breathed as the enraged man spoke. You could hear a pin drop, and certainly could hear the speech for a long ways around; from the clocktower clear to the motor pool. The first thing to break the tense silence was Bridgette, from atop her wagon: "HA! Attaboy, Walldick! LEAN ON HIM!"

Ash's gun swinging temporarily in her direction made short work of her laughter. At least on the outside.

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

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Keystone

Location: Storehouse, Road North of Salarn, Day Three

Interacting With: Cremwise, Ntaj, Group In General

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Keystone looked sideways at their new arrival, swinging open the main door to the storehouse. The action revealed the full group, both those being friendly and those readying weapons. It also allowed the group to see him, the newest Half-Orc in a series of several that had graced their path in the past two days. Keystone also noticed the defensive efforts of the archer with whom he had been previously acquainted. Being a frontman is one thing when confronting the unknown; it was usually easier when someone had a projectile backing him up.

He nodded in a manner that vaguely suggested a greeting to the newcomer, then spoke aloud. "You 'eard the lady. Not needin' encyclopedias, neither. Sorry chum. On our way out for the day, we are. Try again, 'nother time."

The massive pugilist looked over to Cremwise, "Cremmy, we look clear on this end, ceptin' this guy. Let's get back to it, eh? And would the last one out be a sweetheart and close up? "

The merchant positioned himself atop his wagon and urged his horses forward. The conveyance lurched forward, slowly emerging from the structure and eventually merging its path with the road, continuing on the the same overland direction they had traveled for the past two days. Keystone stayed near the front, wondering what manner of surprise was in store for them next. At least they were all alive and back on the road. With a little more luck, they would soon be back in a little spot of civilization where he could restock his supplies and truly get some deserved rest. At the present, the order of the day was safety and survival, regardless of who else decided to approach.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Bridgette Vinters

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Location: Atop the wagon, in front of the Courthouse

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Bridgette found herself staring at the vehicular monstrosity across the way. Her scowling had receded marginally. Not enough for people to mistake her as being warm and/or friendly, mind you, just enough to show that there were other emotions working. Her mind went back to that morning, when she first saw the massive thing barrelling carelessly down the road. She had mixed emotions about the truck, simultaneously impressed by the machine and repulsed by it. Then again, she could be biased; her first experience with it involved a megaherd drawn to her and her sister-in-arms' position. The subsequent slow speed chase afterward was a very interesting way to spend the better part of a day, followed by entry into this ...quaint... little community.

She could see inside the truck, but just barely. The dying sun cast a glare across the front windshield, limiting her vision to outlines and movement within, for the most part. Details were scarce. Bridgette had the feeling that this lack of detail did not extend both ways; that if Ash were staring back at her, it would be through the near equivalent of one-way glass. Of course Mother Nature would conspire to give him the upper hand. Typical.

Existential questions about Newnan skipped and leapt through her thoughts. Who were these people? Did they come here together, or has this place been a crossroad of sorts for the last three years? And not of least importance, were these people actually decent folk, or was she in the middle of a setup?

The benefit of the doubt was given to that last question. Logically speaking, were they outright horrible people, they would have been stripped of possessions and riddled with holes the minute they were behind closed doors, either Bridgette's aggression or Niesha's insistent difficulties acting as the social lubricant to accelerate the approach of their impending doom. Quite the opposite, these people had overlooked their stunning lack of diplomacy. Not only giving them shelter, they saw to the medical needs of their fallen acquaintance and had enacted a plan to reroute the dead people at their heels. The people with guns that were ordered to stay by them did just that - stay by them. They didn't antagonize, they didn't take any threatening action whatsoever.

Still, Bridgette would have felt more comfortable with her spear in hand.

Her inner reasoning about the present situation gave way to a sound external to her own cranium. It was a voice, smallish and feminine. "Nice horses, what are their names?"

A young lady, practically a girl, smiling innocently up at her. Seemed nice enough. Then she stretched out her arm and began to caress her horse's mane. While she very probably didn't have any ill intention in mind, their horses meant the difference between life and death for them, may times over. Astrid tolerated Bridgette caring for her horse about as well as Bridgette tolerated Astrid in the reciprocal. That is to say, they trusted one another, but preferred to take care of it personally, exhibiting mild annoyance otherwise.

"Aw, hey there, cutie. Come a little closer, let me get a good look at you." Bridgette began sweetly. As she continued, her words slowly shifted to the bizarrely venomous. "We've been on the road for a while, dear, so you'll have to bear with while I explain. Ya see, you're taking an awful big risk there, laying hands on my horse, for a lady who's never fixed me a meal nor Cunnied my fucking Lingus. And just this second, you should be thanking whatever God abandoned you that I'm up here and not my friend."

Sally seemed to manifest next to the both of them, still working her appointed rounds passing out foodstuffs to newcomers and Newnanites alike. She stood, mouth agape, having witnessed the nigh psychopathic rant of the mail-clad Bridgette. Hesitantly, she passed over a cloth wrapped bundle. Bridgette accepted it and peeked inside. It looked quite a bit like hard boiled eggs, dried meat, and some manner of cracker. Not in any great amount, but enough to stave off the more gnawing bit of hunger pains.

With what sounded like intense sincerity, Bridgette shifted gears radically, addressing the lady with the food. "Oh, that is so fucking sweet. Thank you. Hey, can I get one for Astrid?"

As Sally passed over another bundle from her basket, Bridgette looked back to Kristina. "You see that? Huh? She can pet my horse."

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

@POOHEAD189 @IcePezz

Hilo. You guys are on Day 5 without a post. Need something in before it slips to Day 6.