Sigil

🦄 After Miranda - A Firefly Rp - Season 1 (Completed)

---

---

William Harper

---

Location: Retribution, Bridge

---

The minutes ticked by with unerring surety. Harper was unsure as to whether time was moving faster or the people on the ground were intentionally dragging their feet. He suspected that his personal anxiety about the situation was coloring his judgement. In fact, he was certain of it. But that certainty did absolutely nothing to assuage his pressing need to get off of this godforsaken rock before the armada of Reavers got close enough to track his intended destination upon takeoff.

Naturally, he tried very hard to keep any of his pant-darkening tension from showing externally. Unless they were looking very hard, all anyone could see of the new Pilot was quiet readiness, coupled with a high state of alert. On the inside, he was a Battle Royale of howler monkeys, locked in a steel cage with a sack of uncut cocaine and a single running chainsaw to pass the eye gouging, testicle rupturing next twenty minutes.

Well, to absolute Hóuzi Qiángjiān Hell with that. Harper keyed in a coordinate inquiry into the onboard navigation computer, plotted a near midway point, and calculated another possible route from said point. He didn't want those people-gnawing bastards following them, but if they did manage to pick up their trail, Harper wanted them to travel someplace with a decent population and formidable defenses.

"Move your ass, Captain..." he muttered quietly, tapping his fingers on his console. He was really itching to seal up the Retribution and break atmo. Eighteen minutes left. He figured he would need at least a five minute head start.

---

---

Foy Coiffeur

---

Location: Whitefall, surface -> Retribution, Cargo Bay

---

"Well, isn’t THAT a fine How-Do-You-Do? marveled Foy aloud. He rested his Callahan over his shoulder, a more relaxed look clearly asserting itself over his features, like a slow wave of smugness settling in for an afternoon visit. "This situation has progressed to a most inopportune landscape for most parties concerned, ladies and gentlemen. Why, the very mention of exchanging munitions and other such acrimonious objets de discours seems positively unnecessary, given the looming spectre of potential violation and dismemberment. I should surmise, Captain, that negotiations have come to speedy conclusion - denoting the full reach of the terms of my contract, sir. Or more simply: Unless you wish to compensate the terms of my presence, I shall see you inside." Guns were of no use here. Disaster visited upon the Retribution or her crew would damn them to an unfortunate and dramatic demise, if their man Harper was correct.

Foy turned to one side and began a meandering walk back toward the Retribution. He was whistling a jaunty parlor tune, moving his hand as a conductor might direct a symphony. He stopped for a second, and looked to his closest friend in the 'Verse, Jahosafat. "I say, as we have a few minutes before possible phallus aeration and eventual consumption, can you not think of a more fitting time to discuss the forthcoming Haberdashery, hmm?"

Hoping his conversation would carry for the short walk back to his temporary home, Foy entered the open Cargo Bay, taking position at the top of the ramp leading to the further interior of the vessel. No sense in getting stupid at this juncture.

🦄 Soulless Regency - Merged With T.S.

---

---

_{"For it is you who light my lamp; the Lord my God lightens my darkness."}

---

Location: St. Etheldreda's: Sister Mary's Private Rooms -> Chapel Undercroft

---

---

The soft knock sounded at Sister Mary's door mere moments after she had shut it behind them, leaving the young Apostolic to question whether it was in the good Lord's plans for her to have privacy at all that day. At least the meaningful part of the exchange had been passed along, or at least she had assumed it was. Perhaps this conversation had to be readdressed after the emergency. Of course, the fact that Elizaveta had predicted that she would be needed elsewhere, mere seconds before the knock was somewhat impressive. Minor acts of divination like that could come in very useful to a woman of her occupation.

When the cloistered Sister announced that there had been another attack, and that the Bishop was requesting her presence in the undercroft, it gave direct confirmation to Mary's suspicions. She had the feeling that, were she to engage the Russian noblewoman in direct conflict, she would be a very dangerous opponent. Intangible qualities like split-second precognition (if that is what it truly was) would make for a very interesting sparring match. Perhaps she would request some practice with the Lady out in the courtyard another time.

Still looking at Elizaveta, Mary responded to the more recent visitor. "I shall be along immediately, Sister." Luckily, Mary had already equipped herself for an evening working her calling at Almack's. Admittedly, she didn't think her more combative ministrations would be in demand. But she was skilled in prayercraft and packed a lot of holy water. "Lady Romanova, I would be obliged were you to lend your insight into this situation. If the attacks are related, we would all benefit from your perspective, if you are willing." She wordlessly offered the Russian Aristocrat the use of her second halberd or any of her primary weapons, unsure if she preferred to engage if necessary or if that was the reason she kept guards.

With that, Mary took up her Swiss halberd and strode purposefully from her quarters. Along the way, she checked the wrappings around her forearms to make certain they were solid and fitting, then felt for her chain rosaries; one around her neck and one hanging from her belt. She never broke stride, and soon found her way down the stairs, through the Chapel, and stepping into the flickering firelight illuminating the Chapel Undercroft.

Mary liked it down here. A Child of Light more comfortable in the dark. It was a contradiction, certainly. Understandable to those who knew of Mary's background and training; she was a unique - a non-standard Knight if ever there was one. Respectfully, she approached Bishop Mansfield and knelt in front of him briefly. Your Excellency." she intoned before rising and looking for the victim. Without further comment, she began to inspect the fallen form before her, extending her senses to include the mundane and the Divine.

She addressed the rugged looking man whom she assumed brought the victim in. "Tell me everything. What happened, how long ago, where. What attacked her, first." Sister Mary pulled the rosary from her belt and laid the crucifix upon the departed woman's forehead, keeping the chain hanging loosely around her wrist. She wasn't sure what would happen next and wished to be ready for any possibility. Sister Mary was thorough and professional, if a bit terse than what was expected from someone of her gender. "Quickly, sir. Fugit inreparabile tempus."

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

@Charnobylisk
Have to keep my kitty up-to-date.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

@Charnobylisk

Why for the lolz?

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

@Lady Amalthea

Requesting permission to alter CS for Schrodinger. Broken images, need to drop in new ones.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

---

---

Black James(!)

---

Location: Parking Lot between 10 and Gilbert Street (present location of his smoker) -> Building A (Ash's House, exterior front)

---

---

The indomitable James Grady kept at his work in silence for a long while, keeping his hands busy while all sorts of scenarios related to the appearance of this woman, Thana, ran through his mind. He tried to think of something else, the upcoming wedding that day, plans for Agriculture in the upcoming planting season (which was coming up in a couple of weeks, if they expanded their greenhouse) but it was the mental equivalent of The Elephant In The Room. Jack and Tati's wedding was the big event of the day, but this was news. Thana's presence in Newnan was going to ruffle some feathers, no doubt about it.

He still had his job to do, though. The hunting parties had done good work, the hogs had produced good numbers (James even managed to increase their breeding stock over last autumn), and the rationing of some staple products had allowed for a very decent feast for the blessed event. At least on his end of it. James wasn't in charge of the whole of the meal, though he had a big part of it to prepare. And he was certain that Meghna and Sally were either doing or delegating amazing work, themselves. Oh, the possibility of cake - actual, fluffy, rich cake slathered in buttercream icing. They had the stuff to make it, Sally said she could do it. James could almost taste it.

The moment he thought it was feasible, James was going to petition to expand the Wall and/or set up an outpost somewhere so thst they could grow a few acres of winter wheat, purely for the purposes of providing flour for the Almighty Newnan Cake Initiative. Which reminded him: Petition for the creation of the Almighty Newnan Cake Initiative. The good news was, his thoughts of glorious, glorious Cake had effectively distracted him from the previously mentioned Room Elephant well enough that he was just the slightest bit surprised when Ash made his announcement over the radio.

"Oooh baby, let the fun begin..."

James worked his grill as best he could, shuffling about small cuts of meat and whole sausages, setting the heat incrementally lower, and providing more chips of wet wood to his heat. He wasn't sure how long this whole thing was going to take, and he would be damned if he ruined good meat. After his not-so-elaborate setup, a rather pleased look spread across his features as his favorite female stoic was witnessed approaching his location. (Funny, he seemed to surround himself with stoic people. Maybe they needed him most.)

"Hey hey, Miss Aggie! Now don't you go showin' those teeth around to everybody, huh? Might give folk ideas 'bout ya. But why you comin' outta your way to visit with me? Ash is tellin' everyone to meet, front of his place."

He accepted the quick praise of his Meatly Arts and the question to accompany her around the corner to Ash's. "Well hells yeah! I got stuff pretty much on lockdown for a while here." He offered Bryn an arm and began walking up to their ordered meeting point, around the corner to the growing crowd on the street in front of Ash's place. He knew what was about to go down, but wasn't about to ruin the surprise.

---

---

Schrödinger

---

Location: Parking Lot between 10 and Gilbert Street (present location of the smoker) -> Building A (Ash's House)

---

---

It was unknown precisely when the fuzzy orange tabby removed himself from the oddities of human event planning. It wasn't for him, really, although he was content to nose around peoples' private spaces and make them feel cozy and content for his efforts. This place seemed to be a great spot to live for a while. Even if it wasn't with his treasured friend, Bazhooli.

Cats could mourn. It's true. Granted, they don't go around, weeping about it for months at a time generally. The time he spent with the strange human who constantly smelled of oil and wet metal was precious to him, and he would be missed. Probably the closest thing to a family he had for a long, long time. Well, that and he could always be relied upon to share his food whenever he got any. Humans always did have the best food. But for the life of him, he didn't understand why they had to put Bazhooli into a hole and push dirt over him. I mean, he was loved, but he was also perfectly good meat now that he wasn't alive.

Humans made no sense sometimes.

But back to food. The large, darker hued Human was moving away from his huge, hot foodmaker. And there was a bucket nearby that smelled wonderful. Oh yes, score. Schrodinger crept up on the bucket from one side, careful not to be immediately noticed. The magic, tasty-smelling bucket was up on a smallish table, practically a stool, next to the foodmaker. Clear and easy jump for a master of the most worthy art of Catrobatics. The goal was to leap up, grab a sizeable bit of meaty deliciousness, and run away before anyone even noticed he was around. And if they did, he would just give them The Face. No one could resist The Face.

The leap was well timed and properly executed, netting him a lovely chunk of sausage end that got a little too crispy for James's liking. While it would have seasoned some particularly lovely grits, Schrodinger had other ideas. Ideas that involved his belly. He scurried away to a bushy area to devour his prize.

Curiously, all of the Humans were going somewhere together. Once he was done eating, he would have to see what the big attraction was all about.

"Meow."₁

Translations

1 = "But first, before I delve into the petty shenanigans of the two-leggers, I shall commence to eating my justly purloined forcemeat, and that hat wearing fellow will never even miss it. Yes, I am awesome. I am Cat. Fear my sneakiness, and provide me with yummy things."

---

---

Secretive Shenanigans, Part IV

---

A tightly forced straight face was hardly concealing the smile that was threatening to spread on Thana's features at the mention of a hot shower. That was a luxury she hadn't been able to enjoy since she left the submarine slash military base she had called home over a year ago. "Yes sir, I won't use more than I am rationed," she said as she grabbed her bag and headed down the hallway. Her eyes fixated on the door to what would be considered the gate to dreamland right then.

Stepping in she shut the door behind her and locked it. Looking around she shook her head in disbelief at the shower there. Setting her bag down on the counter she pulled out a carefully wrapped bundle and set it on the vanity, pulling back the worn fabric to reveal a full set of Service Dress Blues. Other than her dog tags, it was really the only thing she had left of her life before the outbreak and she guarded it with her life. It was something that reminded her of what she had survived, what she had been before the outbreak, what she could get through, and at the end of the day it was where she returned so that she hung on to her humanity and soul no matter what she had to do to survive. She never thought she would wear it again but it seemed the time was right. She was about to be clean, introduced to a community, first impressions were everything.

Lifting it up she draped it carefully over the towel rod before turning her attention back to the shower. She needed to get cleaned up now and quickly but quick bathing was something everyone that had served in the military was used to. Disrobing she turned on the water and took a few seconds to just stand beneath the hot water as it beat down on her skin. No more than thirty seconds of pure bliss but it was needed after the information she had just been given. After that brief break from reality she got to work and was scrubbed from head to toe and everything in between twice in under five minutes. Water off, towel wrapped around her, out of the shower. It was a short amount of time later and she was opening the door to the bathroom; the state of the bathroom looking as if she had never been there except for a light level of steam on the bathroom mirror.

The familiar sound of the clicking of heels could be heard walking down the hallway. It was even and sure as Thana made her way back towards the main room and set her pack down. She looked everything the officer she had once been. Her Lt. Commander Ranking on her sleeves and shoulders; a golden oak leaf on her collar. A simple name tag read Martin. Ribbons on her chest, her coat and skirt looked as pressed as the day they came back from the cleaners so long ago. The only thing out of place was her dark hair peaking out from underneath her cover but her hair was short enough to make it regulation.

"Lt. Commander Martin, reporting for duty sir," she said as she gave the commanding officer of Newnan a sharp salute. It was a formality that perhaps was not needed right then but he was military, she hoped he would understand the significance. It was a simple way for military people to accept their place in the food chain, to accept their duties while on base, and that signature on the bottom line to put their life ahead of those around them.

Suffice it to say, Ash was impressed. It was the first time in a good long while that he had seen a woman, or anyone else for that matter, in crisp dress uniform. Just for a second, it made him forget certain realities he lived in, and gave momentary curiosity as to why this very official looking lady was inside of his home. Then the facts of their existence came flooding back in. A sense of mourning, brief though it was, snapped him back into mental clarity. It really was an impressive uniform. "Even if she was Navy..." came his unbidden internal voice. He quickly shoved it back down. The childish ribbing that went on between the branches of armed service died off when most of the world did, and they either succeeded or failed together.

Ash did understand the significance of her unnecessary salute. It was a measure of respect and deference to his authority, so long as that respect was returned. It was of no consequence that, were they in the same branch, she would outrank him by a full grade. Regardless, Ash snapped to attention and returned the salute. "Just a few more minutes, Lieutenant Commander. I want a full crowd before the big reveal." He gave Thana a good once over, admiring her uniform. He had lost his Class A's years ago. They were probably still in a closet in Dobbins AFB. In contrast to her press and polish, Ash was attired in a somewhat modified field uniform; flat grey Class B's with a patrol cap and (as of recently) an old Army Air Corps flight jacket. "I'm actually a little jealous of you, ma'am."

To Thana, that was a funny thing to say. Why would he be jealous of her? He had safety within walls. Well at least as safe as one could be at this moment in time. He had electricity, hot running water, and from what she could gather a soft bed to lay down in at night. He looked fed, taken care of, thriving in this world. He had a home. It was more than most could ever hope to have in this world. Cocking a brow she looked at him quizzically. "Dare I ask why you would be bein' jealous of me? Other than Navy been whoppin' Army ass since 2002? she asked with a slight smirk to her features, referring the last records of the Army Navy Football games.

Ash's feeling of wonderment passed, replaced by the sudden urge to, in a fit of sarcasm, extend his middle finger in Thana's general direction. His hand was just beginning it's journey into Bird Flipping position before he caught himself, instead pointing at the uniform upon her. "Your dress blues, ma'am. I miss mine. Not sure where they got off to."

Thana glanced down at her uniform, running her hands along it before her eyes came back up to his and she nodded in understanding but she had sworn that wasn't the first thing he had wanted to say. Yet she wasn't going to poke the bear as it were right then. "I see," was all she said.

The Captain gave the barest of peeks out of a window and into the street in front of his house. "They're gathering now. Remember what I told you; some of these people may react emotionally. One or two for certain will, even if it's not right now. Keep the door cracked, duck back inside if you need to. Let me handle it. Not long now."

Nodding, she took a parade rest stance and waited. From what she had been told this was not how they usually introduced new people but under the circumstances she understood the change. She hoped that things would go smoothly but if they didn't she had no intention of tucking tail and running. Thana would let Ash handle things but she would stand her ground, retreat was not in her nature.

"Yes sir. If any issues arise, I default to your judgement. You know yer people, I do not."

---

Captain Holloway stood on his porch, looking over the people assembled in front of him. Too few people, considering how many they built up Newnan with. Few enough to stand on a sidewalk and street in front of a single house without crowding, allowing everyone in attendance clear view of Ash. He barely had to speak up to be heard. "Thank you for your promptness. I will come right to the point. We have a guest in Newnan for the evening. Possibly an addition to our community, though that is her decision to make. Ordinarily this is handled differently, we all know. There are extenuating factors at play here, which will be made apparent presently."

"I cannot stress this enough... Remain calm. Remain quiet. Allow yourself a moment of time. Questions after." He scanned the crowd again, looking for specific faces. Though he hoped it would not be an issue, Ash had already loosened his sidearm and combat knife in their resting places on his utility belt before exiting his home. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.

I would like to introduce to you to Dr. Thana Martin, Lieutenant Commander, U.S. Navy." He turned to his door for a second, "Commander Martin?"

Thana took a deep breath, as she used to when being presented to a crowd but this was different. This wasn't a military gathering for a promotion or to toast the latest achievement. This was an introduction and for some reason, in the pit of her stomach she felt it may be her most important one to date. She just prayed that who she was would not be over shadowed by those that walked these streets before her.

Stepping out the door slowly, she kept her head down and the door left open behind her as she had been instructed. Her face covered by her cover as her eyes shot over towards Ash for a brief second. She stood around 5'7" without the heels she was currently wearing, lean build and looked every ounce the military woman she was. Her shoulders square and her back straight. Lifting her head she looked out over the crowd that had gathered.

"Ahoy y'all," she said in a familiar voice. An all too familiar voice. It was haunting to hear words come out of a mouth that they all knew so well. Those same blue eyes that used to dance with life, the soft curve of lips, that Georgia twang in the speech. Staring out at the crowd was the face of Zoie Crawford but it wasn't. It was the face of Thana Martin. There were subtle differences but hardly enough. Identical was the best term that could be used to describe the person standing before Newnan right then.

"As Captain Holloway has told ya, I am Lt. Commander Martin. You may call me Thana."

The Captain's manner was observant and vigilant. He kept his arms at his sides, but hands were tensed, ready to move at the first sign of provocation. "I realize that this is an emotional time, but do not approach. Give yourselves a moment. Absorb what has happened here. But most importantly, give Thana her space. I have already interviewed her. She has gotten our "Welcome Speech". And she has full run of the Inner Wall."

"If you have any questions, now is the time. If you do not, please return to your duties. Thank you for your attendance."

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

---

---

Black James(!)

---

Location: Parking Lot between 10 and Gilbert Street (present location of his smoker)

---

---

It was still early in the morning, and James had been witness to something nigh miraculous. The whole messy business woud have to remain quiet, at least for now. Luckily, the only person he was aware had seen them (that wasn't manning the wall, anyway) was little sis Kristina and she didn't seem too overly curious about it. But there would be questions, and soon. Jim knew. Kris saw something. The security would change shifts eventually, and observations would spread to the general population. Questions would soon follow.

So for the meantime, the best thing James could do was go back about his business. That meant preparing the finest of redneck cuisine, in the most proficient way he could. He had been away from his smoking mobile firepit for long enough; the heat was low but the lid was secured, meaning the tasty tidbits of meaty goodness were still roasting thoroughly and getting flavored through with homemade alcohol and aromatic wood. He returned to his duty here, hoping that his efforts would take his mind off of what was surely to follow.

Smoke billowed from his massive cooking beast as he opened the lid. He turned over sausages and cuts of meat and provided appropriate seasoning. This is what he did for the community - local grillmaster - a thing to which he was surpassed only by his agricultural and hogging talents. There were flecks of meat and crisping fat that James pulled off of the hot grates and dropped into a small bucket. They would go a long way in seasoning the grits later.

It was his first time catering a Post-Apocalyptic wedding. James wanted everything to come out perfect, no matter what other drama unfolded.

---

---

Ash Holloway

---

Location: Building A (Ash's House)

---

---

"Just over there, ma'am. Second door. Towels are hanging." responded Ash, pointing toward the nearest bathroom. "We have plenty of fresh water here, but power is rationed. Take it easy on the hot water. I'll try and arrange a formal introduction for a half hour from now."

Physically, this would be an easy thing to coordinate. General announcement, shift some personnel around temporarily, get the ones who had been there for longer than eight months in one place. Emotionally, mentally - problems may ensue. Well, nothing to do but jump in and get it over with. Gritting his teeth, Ash dialed up Newnan's general announcement frequency and began speaking.

"This is Ash. Everyone is to stop what they're doing and listen to me carefully. I repeat, stop what you are doing, listen to me carefully. This is exchange will be a little non-standard." He waited a few seconds before continuing, giving people a chance to put down tools and crowd around available radio receivers. "Lyon: get your personnel from Watchtower to relieve present sentries along the wall and around town. You relieve Jim at the Main Gate. Bear in mind that this is temporary. Security: When you are relieved, immediately locate anyone in your vicinity without radio access, direct them accordingly. Domestic: Assist with this wherever possible."

"I need everyone who has been a member of our community for over eight months to gather in front of my house. I will address you in one half hour. To clarify, no one is in trouble. There is no emergency. But whomever is not in attendance in the next half hour needs a good explanation or will be met with disciplinary action. Jack Hudson and Tatiana Korvo may ignore this order. They have a wedding to prepare for. Everyone else, thirty minutes."

🦄 Deeper Than The Sands - Merged With T.S.

---

---

Reginald Keystone

---

Location: Qasr El Nil Barracks (Officers' Club)

---

---

The grim determination of the vigilant Lord Major had him marching off with an accompanying armed patrol of the finest of soldiery stationed within the North African Theatre; the Cairo garrison, jewel of the British protectorate of Egypt. He strode in unison from the Officers' Club, through the courtyard, past the remaining patrols, and dutifully to the main entry gate. He opened his mouth to issue words of encouragement to his men, maybe a word or two about the actual reason for their departure. They could likely guess it had something to do with the bells and alarms going off in the distance, and his previous conversation with the overly exuberant Corporal.

What he saw when he got there gave him a sudden flush of relief. His dear nephew, Lady Munn, and the American, Lauren Ridgeway had just been granted admittance back into the Qasr El Nil Barracks. He was pleased, grateful to divine providence that they were safe from whatever was causing the disturbance at or near the hotel. But naturally, he had questions.

"By Jove, it is good to see the three of you. What sort of brouhaha is afoot, Peter?" he began, intentionally addressing his nephew. Though progressive for his generation, deep down he was a bit of a chauvinist. "Is anyone else still out that way? Issue resolved or ongoing, boy? Was the local authority present when you took your leave of the place?"

Perhaps he laid out a little much, way too fast. "If you would, please enjoy the continued hospitality of the barracks. His Majesty's Officers' Club is still at your disposal, and lodging should be made available within the quarter hour." Those close to him were back home, relatively safe and in sound condition. But if memory served, his good friend Aziza and her escort were staying there, as well. The urge to march down there with a company of soldiers was still high. But he did desire an explanation.

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

---

---

Keystone

Location: Woods North of Salarn, Orc Encampment, Early Morning of Day Four

Interacting With: Thomas, Group In General

---

---

Keystone generally enjoy hearing Thomas talk. It was refreshing to him to hear speech phrased in such a bookish and elegant manner, obviously the preferred method of Magely folk about the world. Keystone's own accent and curious dialect marked him (to many) as a witless, uneducated oaf, incapable of contemplating the finer points of tiddlywinks; let alone the subtle idiosyncrasies of similar language from region to region.

Now, what people didn't know about Keystone was that he was actually a reasonably well read man. Admittedly, he was no great pursuer of scholarly works, at least those that fell outside of his sphere of competence, but he was literate and curious, equally interested in reading as he was writing his personal philosophies, martial techniques, and observances relevant to his adventuring career. Point of fact, he had full intent to add to his books the first good chance he got, either on the road or back in Salarn. There was much to add after the events of the past few days, not the least of which being the flying blood-fog that sucked out a few pints of his sanguinity.

But back to the broad man's admiration of Thomas's way of speech. It was quite captivating. So captivating in fact, that while the group's dedicated spellcaster was speaking to Kyra about magic, shovels, and the like, Keystone reached into his pack and produced a large, leather bottle. He took a long, furious drink from it, for as long as Thomas continued speaking to Kyra. It was apparent that he was timing it by the sound of his voice, as if the duration of speech would somehow shape an event that was to follow. Being both introspective and long-winded, Thomas ensured a more than healthy series of gulps of heretofore unknown liquid for the larger Keystone. And boy howdy, did he enjoy hearing Thomas talk.

As his speech drew down to a cessation, Keystone lowered the bottle. Yes, it was quite sufficient. More than necessary by at least seven seconds of pure, eye watering, thirst smashing action. Hopefully now, they could head out. But first, Keystone was compelled to share a little of his own native dialect with Thomas. He walked over to where Ntaj and Thomas were engaging in discourse, he inquiring as to the possibility of learning Orc, trading with lessons in Elvish. Still such sprightly talk of trading linguistic tips! Such was a conversation to which he intended to contribute.

Yes chums, Keystone shared the song of his people. It was only fair.

The growl could be heard emanating from his stomach, the sound of a drowning tiger in a deep, deep well, even before he opened his mouth to permit the egress of his vaporous leavings. The gurgling backdraft changed pitch fully twice before it rocketed past his esophagus and into the world at large, bearing with it the lightly soured aroma of fermentation. And neeps. It became a broad, bass sound, almost musical in the same way that a war horn or unrestrained bellow might accompany a symphony purely for dramatic effect. But what was the truly impressive part of this upper gastrointestinal rebellion was the utter, prolonged duration of the belch. Never flinching, never altering nor stuttering as it roared out of him.

It was less of a feat on Keystone's part - it would be more accurate to say that he created the optimum conditions for the end result, that being the auditory equivalent of scrotum-torn demons screaming in unbreathing, backwards Dwarven; the collision of white-hot boulders raining upon each other and slamming into a lake of burning piss, to quench in a chorus of the roaring damned. All our ignoble protagonist needed do was maintain his own physical integrity while allowing the beast to exit. But it was not easy.

The effort contorted his face, widening his mouth to a diameter mildly disproportionate to the size of his head. The strain had completely closed one eye while simultaneously popping the other fully open, staring bloodshot into the morning light. His head vibrated visibly and listed slightly to one side. He widened his stance just to keep balance. Even this seemed to prove unreliable, so the bardsung Pugilist reached out a ham sized hand, grasping with no small amount of desperation at the nearest shoulder to him to steady his labors; it happened to be Thomas's.

The rolling burp continued. How long had it been? Mere seconds? Minutes? A half hour? The overbearing drone of escaping gut gas blasted away concepts like Time with its hypnotic, if unsettling rumble. It blared and fought, pitched and rolled from him. A tempest of juicy vapors exploding out of the man in ways not assumed to be within the boundaries of human possibility. Keystone turned his still belching face toward Thomas for the purpose of locking eyes, just enough so that he could see the thankful "thumbs up" he thrust out before him while the rrrrraaaaaaaarp played on, unfortunately putting the poor sorcerer in the line of hair ruffling fire. Keystone nodded, possibly trying to indicate that his time upon the earth might be drawing to a conclusion, and that he had something to say to the man who was so unlike himself. He leaned in closer, pushing against the waves of sonic concussion trying to flail his head backwards as tears of strain streaked down his face; one or two of which fell in front of the stomach discharge only to be instantly and irrevocably blasted from its state of matter.

Their positioning in front of the Orc Cave served to the acoustic detriment of those nearby as secondary waves of sound echoed within and grew in depth, lowering and fracturing the original abdominal bray into a thing of demented imagination and projecting it back out into the surrounding woodland. It bore the efforts of a sadistic backup singer dripping with dark, frabjous glee, anticipating joyous discomfort it could inflict on something warm and soft. The belch continued unabated, now seemingly with help.

Keystone nodded to his sorcerer companion despite the blaring, continued act of gastric exodus. Staring fully at the man, he allowed the warm caress of his eye-watering gutsplosion to envelop the assembled gentry (if such a term were applicable) in a final push to fully vacate the carbonic acid gas from his torso. The terminal emission (and I do mean terminal) grew to a reluctant crescendo, flaring in nose breaking intensity with accompanying increase in pitch. It cut off abruptly; far more abruptly than it began.

The echo from the cave could be heard for an additional second or two. Keystone took this opportunity to suck in a sharp breath of air. Without batting an eyelash or waiting for reaction, he spoke plainly, and with simple words:

"Road's that way. Let's get a move on." He immediately turned and trudged in the direction of the departing wagon. It was time to go back to Salarn.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

Secretive Shenanigans, Part III

---

Thana had sat there listening to what the leader of Newnan had to tell her. At first she thought it was a joke but slowly her smile faded. As the information dump continued she didn't react other than asking the occasional question. Once Ash had concluded she picked up her coffee mug and held it out. "I think I could use something stronger at this point. Care to make this an Irish Coffee?"

Under most circumstances, breaking out the hard alcohol that early in the morning would be a sign of major alcohol dependency. This day already had the earmarks of one of the more interesting of the fiscal quarter, however, not to mention the bombshell that Ash had just dropped upon his guest. A little ethical wiggle room was permissible. "Yeah, no problem. Give me a sec."

"Thank you, sir," Thana said stoically as she sat there, resting the mug on the table.

Ash did have a small stash of spirits for personal use. It wasn't exactly the kind of thing he advertised, for obvious reasons. And it was indeed just a small stash, by Appalachian Virginia Irish standards. He walked into the living room for a moment and returned with a mostly full pickling jar of fragrant, clear liquid. "I'd go easy on this stuff, ma'am." He set it on the table and slid it across to Thana.

Thana took the mason jar, unscrewing the top from it and tossing it down unceremoniously on the table. "Thinking back on things, she was the main reason I joined the armed forces," Thana commented with a shrug. Swirling it it around for a moment as if she was going to say more, then she simply took a small breath and chugged two or three good gulps of the burning liquid as if it was water. Not even a long exhale followed. Just a nonchalant screwing of the lid back on and sliding it over to Ash.

"Now that I know, I request permission to remain within the walls for the evening to gauge the pro's and con's of this settlement. If due, to the circumstances, that is not feasible I request an escort back to my vehicle and that my identity not to be revealed to any others," she stated in a militaristic tone as she rested her hands in her lap, her back still as straight as if a rod was down the center of her spine.

Ash looked at his guest for a few long seconds. Then down at his jar on the table. The woman could drink, that was for certain. And from the looks of her, despite the discipline and training, she needed some respite. "I usually have a speech for times like this, ma'am. It's this thing that I do so that new folks know that there are rules and impress on them that it's important. The first part of my speech starts with: "If you need a place to stay overnight, great. Collect your weapons in the morning and leave us with a full belly". There's more, but I'll bore you with it later. Request approved."

This was a stretch of protocol, Ash's protocol, point of fact. But this was also a very unique circumstance. Extenuating, one might say. He was a bit less stern than he usually was, almost to the point of kid gloves with this woman. It wasn't the act of a man trying to impress anyone, either. Sympathy? Empathy? Other concepts seemingly foreign to the grim Captain? It was anyone's guess.

Looking at Ash, Thana cocked a brow at his words. "I appreciate the granting of my request, especially when it was not placed in triplicate. Please do not change your speech for me. I am a sailor and a botanist sir. Qui Plantavit Curabit." he words Thana said were all too fitting for her and were known through out the US military. They were the motto of the USS Theodore Roosevelt: He who has planted will preserve.

"If ma'am insists." Ash rose from his chair and slid it back underneath the table, then stood behind it. His face solidified into a manner stereotypical of an Army officer, with the exception of a single corner of his mouth. It was taut, as if suppressing the tiniest of mirthful expressions. "Now... it's very simple. If you're just passing through and want to do some trading, great. If you're passing through and need someplace safe to spend the night, that's fine too. You'll have a full belly and a bunk for the night. You may pick your weapons up on your way out in the morning."

Ash leaned forward just a bit on the back of the chair in front of him before continuing. He was acquiescing to Thana's request, but he felt just a little dumb giving her the Welcome Speech in front of his kitchen table, especially to someone he didn't feel the need to impress upon that he was the guy in charge in Newnan. All the same, he moved forward with it. "But if you stay, the rules are simple: Everyone who's able works, everyone who's able fights. We take care of our own and we build this place up. You will be given work assignments, primary and secondary, based upon our needs and your skill sets. Listen to your Leads. You report to them, they report to me. If you feel that you do not have a skill we can use, we will teach you one. We can always use more people tending crops, raising livestock, and working domestic chores. Every job is important."

Somehow, that last part seemed a little unnecessary. "We have a system of discipline in place that largely mirrors my military experience. Punishments for infractions run as slight as unfavorable assignments and as high as execution. Thankfully, I have not had to do that yet." Ash concluded his speech and sat back down at the table across from Thana. "That's the long and short of it. Any questions?"

"I believe I have the gist of it. No mutiny and I don't have to worry about being keelhauled," Thana said before rising from her place. "I suspect you will need to introduce me to the people of the city, so I do have a question. Where's the head? I need to clean up before introductions are made."