Sigil

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

Hold your loved ones close and brace yourselves. We are another round down, which means...

NEXT ROUND BEGINS!

@Lady Amalthea @Sigil @Dragoknighte @rivaan @POOHEAD189 @Lucius Cypher @IcePezz @The Grey Dust

Time for beating on that dead horse, just to refresh for our returning lady, IcePezz. And because I like flogging expired equines.

The list below represents the order in which you will be posting/reacting. You have two days to make your post, after which time we will just assume that your character is standing about, wondering if they left the iron on. When you have finished your post, tag the next person in the list here in the OOC. If you're going to hold action for a later round segment, announce this in the OOC and tag the next guy in the list.

Everyone is fully alert and has full actions this round. Huzzah.

Initiative:

Cyneburg
Thomas
Satilla
Keystone
Njat
Sana
Calanon
Kyra
Lerraina

Now that we're getting feedback from multiple specific actions, feel free to include the previous round's resolutions in your next post before declaring action, if you are so inclined. Remember: Declare actions, not results. Also, tag the next person in the lineup after your post.

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

@Dragoknighte

Caesar's eHarmony profile pic.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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The Great Bazhooli

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Location: Building 7 (Rec Center)

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Now that was interesting. Unexpected. Possibly even more unexpected than finding another Russian speaker in central Georgia, was to find an actual Russian. Further, one who was tipped off that, while Cossack, he was as much American as most anyone else in the area. He just happened to be raised in an actual, fully functioning Russian Circus operating within the United States. Hell of an upbringing. Close to adulthood, it broke up. But the family stayed together, as family does. Just now as independent contractors with one hell of a respectable background in their field.

Russkiy Bazhooli Semeynyy, in the Motherland. Here, the more familiar "Russian Bazhooli Family", as led by generation after generation of the most qualified member of the clan, given the title of Velikiy Bazhooli, or The Great Bazhooli. He liked the English version of his title better. It seemed to have more of an air of circumstance about it.

But back to his chunk of the unexpected: Bazhooli had not imagined a future in which a ballerina would be asking him to learn his craft. He was a touch awestruck by the idea. It wasn't the same as the close-knit, one generation teaches the next method that had worked for his people since the Impalement Arts were a thing, but he did want to ensure that his skills did not die with him. The old ones, or the new.

Tatiana's words pressed into him. "Teach me.", she had said. The Great Bazhooli looked back into her eyes, looking for a hint of dishonesty or ulterior motive. In the end, he did not speak, merely nodding his head slowly. Yeah, he would teach. They weren't family, but let's face it - he was the last one left anyway. Family would have to be redefined.

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Black James(!)

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Location: Building B (Zoie's House) -> Building 2, Mess Hall

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A one-armed hug was the best offer that James had gotten all day. He was careful not to even touch the area side that was operated on earlier that day. I mean, it's not every day that you get shot, receive emergency surgery from a man in the middle of his own pillowed half to death by an overtly racist boyfriend, then get served smoked venison and cabbage by one's oldest living friend prior to getting ready for a show put on by what might be the last two Russian performers left alive on the continent.

Or to put it differently, Black James wanted to take it easy on her. She's been mostly dead all day.

He accepted her empty plate and walked towards the door. "How's about you really get rest, little lady, and don't just tell me you gonna. I's be back later. You be good, now." James flashed a broad grin as he closed the door behind him. It was just his way. James was going to be James, Zoie was going to be Zoie. Way of things.

James chuckled, off and on, all the way back to the Mess Hall to drop off the plates.

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Bridgette Vinters

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Location: Within the Outer Wall, Livestock area - Stables -> Following Astrid

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Bridgette listened as she got the Reader's Digest condensed version of what was going on. Some other community needed help, apparently. Some other community that they hadn't discovered during their travels in and around the American Southeast on horseback. Must be new. Or out of the way. From the sound if it, they weren't very far away either, if Astrid had promised to be back home quickly.

"Holde seg sterk." repeated back Bridgette. "Hells yes I'm going to holde seg fucking sterk..." She looked to her horse, Cadence. Fully armed, saddled, tacked. Perfectly taken care of, only on light duty today, and rested besides. Fed, provisioned, and more importantly, ready to go. Bridgette watched Astrid ride off toward the gate, apparently go ride off with total strangers on some mission of mercy. It was going to be dark fairly soon. No, she didn't like this at all. Her plans for the day had been pretty much destroyed from the get-go. No sense in ruining a streak.

The contemporary Valkyrie pulled her hair back and took up her shield, slinging it across her back. She deftly swung herself atop Cadence, and urged him forward at a trot. It wasn't until Astrid had gotten back to the main gate that Bridgette caught up, immediately exclaiming, "Hey! You aren't riding off into any goddamed sunset without me, Sis. We're doing this."

She looked to Ash, "You're all good at the stables. Oh! Two horses could use a brushdown. Don't need, but... Well, fuckit. If it ain't done when we get back, it's on me. So! Where are we going?"

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Ash Holloway

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Location: Main Gate

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Captain Holloway looked to Astrid, curious as to the extension of her hand. She didn't do physical contact. With the smallest amount of skepticism, he reached out and took her hand firmly, and released it. "No matter what else happens out there, you see to you first. Help if you can, but getting back safe is your priority. Got me?"

It was about then that Bridgette rode up, in a classic demonstration of being herself as bluntly as possible. Ash wasn't too keen on letting more people ride right into uncertainty, but before he could say anything about it, his walkie blared to life. It was Meghna. And she was making a vein pop out in Ash's forehead with every word she spoke. So much as he tried to rein in the stricter, more rigid elements of his background of military command, when something along these lines crept up, he very clearly felt a need to remind people exactly who was boss. Ash had no intention of saying it with flowers. With obviously restrained anger, he thumbed on his walkie and spoke in an enunciated growl, his native Virginian accent prominent.

"Everyone who can hear this needs to stop what they are doing, and listen as hard as you can. Security details, and to be clear, this includes security personnel on escort duty: You respond to two people - Your Security Lead, Zoie Crawford, and your Commanding Officer, Captain Ashton Holloway. If the Chain is altered, you will be informed. Under no circumstances, I repeat, NO CIRCUMSTANCES, will you take orders from anyone else, unless some massive shit has hit a massive fan. Anyone who doesn't understand this is welcome to leave."

Now, escort duty: I have not interviewed nor vetted our most recent arrival petitioning for entry. That's on me. Shit happens. Did, in fact. If you abandon your post on orders from our Domestic Lead, you are going to wish you were just shoveling shit for a month."

"Meg: Fetch a meal for our man. Immediately. Then make yourself extremely available."

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

@Lady Amalthea

And you are GO for Kyra.

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

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Keystone

Location: Woods North of Salarn, Orc Encampment, Evening of Day Three

Interacting With: Undead Melee

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The entire concept around camping as a group, sharing watches as a group, and fighting as a group was, in Keystone's mind, the very reason that they should have stayed together - as a group. Perhaps this is why he found the concept of Kyra and Sana rushing forward to meet their enemy, away from the group, a little unsettling. Of course, he found himself giving more concern to Sana, for some reason. She was an archer, with some ability as a spellcaster (from what he had personally witnessed previously). In his experience, archers and mages did not do extraordinarily well when engaging their opponents up close and personal.

Not that Sana couldn't handle herself. But for some reason, his protective instincts were screaming alarms in his head. The two women had placed themselves between a wall of six skeletons and the rest of the group. An entire, intact skelly cow, horns and all, stood on the other side of them, looking to attack. Perhaps the women plus Kyra's young Dire Wolf had this under control. It seemed very plausible. After all, Keystone had fought skeletons before. They weren't particularly tough opponents, forming the bread-and-butter of an undead army's troops, generally. Those, and slower moving zombies.

With skeletons, one decent hit and he could disarticulate the lifeless bastards. It was one of the reasons his unarmed skill set was trained along the paths of Iron Fist and Chi'i Attacks. This is pretty much what he did now, whether he liked it or not. Also whether he liked it or not, Keystone was much more of a Monk than a Brawler, at least anymore. With that in mind, he looked over his situation, instantly getting a read of it.

Six skeletons, and including himself three competent warriors. One of them was naked, but they'd discuss that later. A healer who he really hoped would stay to the back, a spellcaster who looked to be... Ok, he had no idea, but Keystone wasn't usually brought along because of his intricate knowledge of the Arcane Arts. And somewhat surprisingly, Miss Sleepyhead had gone and altered her form into a crocodile. A crocodile. Really. Keystone had seen them before, in his travels. Smart advice had him giving them a wide berth, particularly because of that tail. Lots of ouch involved. But he was digressing. Three competent warriors and a crocodile against six skeletons. Even if it was just him vs. the Bone Brigade here, the smart money was on him.

Time to go to work.

Keystone didn't have much in the way of time to ready anything. Against this kind of opponent, he didn't need much. Hands curled into fists as his legs kicked his body into a low, crouching position, and training took over immediately. His first flurry of attacks was led off with a rising uppercut, pressing his weight and power into a devastating initial blow. The goal was to divvy out as much blunt trauma in the form of bone-crunching knuckle and palm heel strikes, taking down as many as possible in the shortest time. He had to get to Sana. But he had to eliminate the present threat first.

Damned kiss. It was starting to cloud his judgement.

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

I will be posting for Keystone very late today, or possibly tomorrow evening. Holiday, obviously, but I'm called in to work early tomorrow morning as well.

Many thanks in advance for your patience.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway

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Location: Building 2, Mess Hall -> Outer Wall, Main Gate

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The Captain decided against speech as Astrid responded to his earlier admonishment about taking some food with her. While this place was run in the manner of a military outpost, he was fully aware that he could not treat everyone as soldiers under his command. At least not all the time. Little provisions and caveats had to be allotted for individualistic behavior. So long as work got done, the place was kept safe to the best of their ability, it didn't cross the boundary into disrespect or insubordination, Ash was willing to give a bit of latitude. These were colorful people. It was, perhaps, their differences from workaday folk that kept them alive certain intangibles that the veteran military man did not want to squash in them.

Work gets done, orders are followed, everyone able works, everyone able fights. It is how they survived. Difficulties with their neighbors to the east aside, it was how they flourished.

The man, Beni, seemed optimistic. Even insistent upon cooperation, despite Ash's minor attempts to elicit an emotional response from him. A quiet desperation, possibly. Hopefully, more noticeable than his own, which was (also) hopefully buried beneath a convincing poker face. He surely did not want to get his hopes up just to see this turn into a horrific mistake. The moment Astrid left the gates, it would be too late to go back, short of bloodshed. And Ash certainly had enough of that today.

He listened to Beni quote someone close to him, as he mentioned, someone he lost. "Yeah. We've all lost people. Hits us different. I've lost a few recently that will be answered for. But that's another day."

They neared the front gate, escort in tow. The two armed men remained below as Ash ascended the post, motioning for Beni to follow. "If you would please, talk to your people, explain our arrangement. Grain of salt with Astrid. She does her own thing, but she's extremely capable."

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Bridgette Vinters

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Location: Within the Outer Wall, Livestock area - Stables

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Of course, the concept of a warm, shiny, smiley Bridgette wasn't going to last long, especially when her battle-sister starts saddling up her draft horse and preparing to leave the city without so much as an explanation. There had been a bit of a communication lapse, starting with her time fixing the damaged section of wall to the east, and continuing with her unexpected jaunt to the stables to find out that the horses were basically ignored all day today. This, like so many chunks of her daily life, required profanity.

"Didn't expect? Yeah, that's fucking rich. Means you were planning to ride off into the goddamn sunset without word fucking one to little sister, huh? Look, I've been down here with the feed and shit and unkept fucking equines here in horsey-town because someone else couldn't do their mothershitting job right. You mind telling me what the actual fuck is going on?"

So, she didn't seem quite as content nor fuzzy. More to the point, she was worried about Astrid. It's just that worry, like most of her other observable emotions, presented as anger. And sailorworthy uses of colorful language.

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The Great Bazhooli

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Location: Building 7 (Rec Center)

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Wow. The Great Bazhooli hadn't expected the other new guy, Jack, to bring him anything. Let alone bring him a plate of freshly smoked venison. This day was looking better and better every second. "Da, da... Am thanking you. Very nice of you." He accepted the plate Tatiana held out to him, but tried very hard not to go too overboard. While enjoying the fruits of Newnan's labors, he had no desire to overdo and make himself a burden. But he was still hungry. Had been for a long time before pulling into this settlement. While it was probably another reason not to overdo it, the smell of seasoned, smoked meat was intoxicating.

"Assistant... little ballerina, vhat you do is art. Is poetry. Vhat I do is entertaining. Literal circus, yes? At least, if I juggle. Give me knife, give me five or six or eight... I make poetry. Songs generations long. Most I can offer is part of lovely assistant, da? You dance in, you motion to things, you throw pins and balls to me. Not poetry. Not at all vhat you are capable of. But if vant, I can use Lovely Assistant. Just did not vant to insult by asking."

He turned his attention back to Jack, who had just recently given him semi-formal introduction. He did not want to appear rude, not did he want to begin cramming his face full of deer and start things off badly. Then again, if viewed through the objective lens of their overall reality, starting off a conversation with a face full of good meat was really low on the list of worries.

"Mr. Jack, zdravstvuyte₁. I am The Great Bazhooli, formerly of..." His voice trailed off and his face took on a bit of a "lightbulb moment". He looked over to his armed escort, possibly a man who was quite forgotten about by the higher ups. He still carried Bazhooli's great bearskin coat, which was currently wrapped around his rifle an all of his knives. "Hey there, Man-Who-Carries-My-Stuff. You are hungry? Have they let you eat yet?"

He immediately began to wave the man over, vigorously.

Translations

1 = Hello

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Black James(!)

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Location: Building B (Zoie's House)

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It seemed to James that lockup was an odd spot to put someone that needed checking up on. Then again, Zoie was their Security Lead. Ask James about sweet potatoes or peanuts, he was your man. Handled agriculture. Zoie, she handled threats, both internal and external. They each had their place in keeping Newnan going.

"Look Miss Zoie, soon as we done here, Imma run these plates back to Mess an' get you one o' them wheelchairs. Now, if'n you ain't wantin' Doc Froggy or Miss Astrid knowing about it, that's gonna be a much taller order, okay? They like keepin' tabs on apsrins and wheelchairs and stuff."

James began eating with renewed purpose, given something of a task to perform that might make things a touch easier for his friend. Between mouthfuls, he could be heard exclaiming, "I see what I can do. Hell, I can carry yo' ass down there if need be, long as you got hands on my rifle for me." James knew that he really should be encouraging Zoie to rest. But he was a realist. The woman would do what she wanted to, period. The best he could hope for was to run alongside and make it easier for her, this time to make sure she doesn't blow a stitch and reopen something important. He was hoping to get a nice, leisurely meal in, but like his momma always told him, "You can Hope in one hand and Shit in the other, see which one fills up first." Truly a sage, that Southern lady.

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

@Lady Amalthea

It seems that, what with the drama elsewhere, I have not posted for J. Keystone for a bit. Permission to edit into the last post?

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

@The Grey Dust

Lighting conditions are described in the initial update of this fight, first paragraph. Key portion is below.

The clouds had long parted, allowing the cool, comforting light of a large, gibbous moon to dimly illuminate the patch of ground nearest the cave entrance. The stars added their own comforting twinkle to their piece of earth around them, mingling with the warmer orange glow of campfire embers. While not the proper lighting to pen one's memoirs, there is barely enough for a reasonably sighted Human to be aware of their surroundings, if not amazingly happy about it. The luckier races, gifted with the ability to see with less restriction in the dim light, have a more favorable vantage in the still night.

@Sigil

As for your second question, you may indeed attempt.

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

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Caesar Gonzalez

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Location: Just outside of Queensguard Private Airfield

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Motorcade. Security would be high and tight. Though Caesar apparently saw nothing in the way of security cameras, receivers, transmitters, etc., or anything in the way of countermeasures and/or infrastructure relating to intrusion repellent and/or client notification, he was confident that they were present. Don't stray too close to the high, brick wall, find a good vantage, see what you could see before attempting to venture in.

The line of vehicles exiting the hangar seemed pretty standard escort for a connected and/or moneyed VIP; it only made sense that they would be moving to intercept a recently landed private plane. Of course, it was just a little odd that the people arriving on the private plane did not disembark until the land vehicles got into formation. That was professional security protocol, possibly Agency.

It didn't directly tie into his reason for being there, but lately, the details seemed to be as important as anything else. Caesar tapped a widget on his satellite phone, prompting simultaneous video recording and company intranet upload. Continuing the recording on the wider view, he used pressed his thumb and forefinger to the screen, spreading them apart to utilize the zoom feature. If your own eyes aren't sharp enough, technology will find a way.

While viewing what he hoped would be in interesting piece of live footage, Caesar voiced a suggestion to Cecily. "This water. Might be a way in." He kept his face neutral, but a tinge of emotion showed just underneath the surface as he continued, "Reservoir. Not a lot of water features in an airport. If I wanted to drown someone, that would be the place." Caesar risked a glance over to where the water was draining out, into public domain. His eyes went to Cecily, and back to the water. The investigator in him realized that they could collect samples without having to set foot onto the private property. The father in him was adamant about wanting to find the person responsible and doing gruesome things to their still-living flesh. The latter might involve going inside anyway. If they could fit through the drainage system.

A flash of heightened awareness spiked into him. This looked just a bit like a setup. If not a setup, a place where loose ends might be found and dealt with. Instinctively, he palmed one of his personal knives, hiding the length of it up his sleeve and holding onto the pommel with his pinky and ring finger. From any distance, it was a nonchalant hanging on one's arm beside himself, unless they chose to press the issue.

For now, keep recording. Even if they both got shot and/or kidnapped, the footage was already in company hands.

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J. Keystone

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Location: Queensguard R&D Industrial Complex: Gym -> Security Hub

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The workout was brutal. Keystone had insisted upon it. Not that he thought that it would actually make these people stronger overnight. Quite the opposite, most likely. If they came in at all tomorrow, they would come in tired and sore. Nope, this was all about introducing himself to the staff in the most aggressive manner possible. They had problem employees. Possibly lazy and disloyal employees, even. Putting the brunt of them not on other duties through the gauntlet may very well weed out the undesirables. Tomorrow, he would put the less able with decent attitudes on lighter duty. Others, well...

Keystone could tell who the ones were who came in here to do a job. He met a few of them back in Central. They would be key personnel in acclimating his people from London and Caesar's (actually Alicia's) people from Seattle to how things were done here. The broad man was still a newcomer. He knew a lot about the company, but not specifics on the Justice, California branch. West coast United States was strange, sometimes. Fewer leggy blonde women than the movies suggested.

He unlocked the doors to the company gym and opened the doors wide, allowing any assembled to bear witness to the carnage of human fatigue and sweat, mixed with the occasional minor blunt trauma. Luckily, the man whom he threatened sandpapering his rectum with the treadmill was able to limp out, tenderer bits undamaged but pride bruised nonetheless. Keystone gave small words of encouragement, in his own way. The occasional "Yeah, ice that, oi?" and "Atta boy, Butch.", colored with growls of distaste for the ones he was fairly certain wouldn't make it.

After the staff was capable of exiting the premises, and did, Keystone returned to the Hub. He hit the locker room, getting a quick rinse-off in, and changed into fresh clothes. He rearmed himself fully, as if for work; Desert Eagle and knuckle dusters, extra clips and utility knife. Regarding his pistol carefully, he was pleased that his employer chose to outfit him with something as massive as the iconic American fifty-caliber. He had worked with other weapons in the past that just seemed smaller in his hands. This powerhouse firearm was really more for show and intimidation than a prolonged gunfight. He didn't intend to really use it, if at all necessary. But it was useful to have around.

But man, the holes it would make in things.

Keystone stepped back into the Hub and began to look through the paperwork that Elisabeth Queensguard had given them. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off what promised to be a growing headache, and stopped one of the staffers walking past. "Ey you... Digital copies, two minutes. Bloody run."

In the (hopefully) two minutes it would take to get that accomplished and get the hardcopy returned, Keystone struck up a conversation with the man that addressed him earlier; the guy who alerted him to the less than exuberant status of many of the employees present.

"Good job there, yeah? Hey, there a pub or a boozer nearabouts? Someplace quiet without cameras, a bounder can grab a pint without drawin' too many eyes?"