Sigil

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Black James(!)

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Location: Agriculture

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James looked to his escort, a taller fellow who had a look that screamed his preference to be far away and doing anything else. He remained vigilant; after all, James was a murderer now. His past actions could not negate the truth of this, merely explain it. And as each minute ticked by, the unenviable blackneck became less and less a part of their community. Hearts would continue to harden as the ethical implications of what he did cycled through their psyches, and he might find that any charms he possessed would come up wanting, as Newnanites turned grief to anger as a defense mechanism. But it didn't matter. James would miss them, truly miss them, so very much.

He regarded the notebooks wrapped in the tote bag as he was handing them over to his escort, and thought better of it. "Naw, man. Done changed my mind. Got to explain a little bit to the man. Owe him that. Might be my last chance, y'get me?" He smiled weakly. "Don't worry there, brother. It'll all be over with soon. C'mon, let's..."

It was at this moment that he noticed the barely familiar frame of Gavin sauntering up to him. He could see a glimmer of recognition, as if the man were specifically looking for him. When it turned out that he actually was, it was still surprising to him. "Yeah, hey hey... look, um, now ain't the best time for a talk, I don't think. I'm in the middle of gettin' myself exiled... Wait, what you mean about Proposition?"

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Ash Holloway

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Location: Building A (Ash's House)

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Oh yeah, he was smitten. Hard, too. But more than that, Ash found that he could draw a sense of stability and strength from the woman, as if they had served together or had known one another prior to the planet turning sideways. Ash looked soulfully into her eyes, a tiny smile of solid satisfaction showing itself. Listening to her words, he gave the barest of perceptible nods. He wanted to feel happier, and in truth did. Really did. But the situation going on outside of the walls of his house was deadly serious. Reconciling the Soldier from the Man, from the Leader that Newnan needed was going to be more difficult from this point on, he could tell. But maybe when it was just the two of them, no matter what else was going on, he could steal some time just for them.

"What I need, Thana... I need you in my corner. I need you to quietly let me know when I'm screwing up, and counsel me back from it. And to be blunt, what with James leaving, I need a new Agricultural Lead. And the ability to see into his head. He'd already started plans for this year's crops, and some "away missions" besides."

Ash sighed. "But yeah, you're right. We need to get back out there." He smiled, a little more openly this time. "For now." He remembered the previous night. Hell, he would never forget the previous night. The smile still on his face, he backed slowly toward James's belongings he had set down earlier. Ash let his gaze linger on Thana, unwilling to look away until the last possible instant. He was in love.

Breaking the mood, Ash's radio barked at him. It was Jim, with very interesting news. "Understood, Jim. That's a little unexpected. If he wants to leave, go ahead." Ryan wanted to leave Newnan, too? Ash hoped it wasn't to pursue some form or revenge against James for killing Dick, away from prying eyes. He had to look at this situation himself. If he suspected something shady, then he'd insist on staggering their departure times. "Back on the clock, indeed..." he drawled out, the native Virginian accent more prominent in those words than anything he'd spoken in a long while.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

@Lady Amalthea

Yeah, big oops on that one. CS is posted now, relationships to come next. So far, I have her knowing Caesar, Alicia, Bridgette, Astrid, and Lola. PMing you what I have on relations involving your characters for approval.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

Thalia Angelica Carmichael

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Thalia Carmichael

_{Thalia Angelica Carmichael, Security Specialist, MSS}

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Character Summary

Name: Thalia Angelica Carmichael
Aliases: Angel, Thalia Gonzalez
Age: 29
Birthday: March 21 (Aries)
Ethnicity: Caucasian and Hispanic
Birth Place: San Francisco, CA
Location: Boston, MA
Gender: Female
Major/Minor: Electronics Engineering/Criminal Justice at Suffolk University (Go Rams!)
Occupation: Security Specialist and Trainer, MSS Boston Office
Languages: English (slight Boston accent), Spanish (Fluent)

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Appearance

Height: 5’9”
Weight: 145
Build: Athletic
Eyes: Hazel
Hair: Black, short
Skin Tone: Pale Tan
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Ears pierced (regularly wears studs), slash marks on her lower back and side, bullet scar below left collarbone.

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Psychology

Guarded * Independent * Loyal * Direct * Tactical * Brutal

Sexuality: Hetero (sporadic fluidity)
Relationship Status: Single, not particularly looking
Personality:

Experience has taught Angel to stay cautious and feel out people before letting her guard down, especially in recent years. There is an independent streak in her that used to be much more pronounced; the Apocalypse has taught her the wisdom of community, even if she stays near the fringe. Once she relaxes and begins to trust, she reveals a young lady who is dedicated and fiercely loyal. Angel is generally respectful to people, if not always 100% compliant.

The rogue Gonzalez dislikes authority for its own sake. She will follow orders, but from people that she genuinely respects. Even then it is taken as something of a guideline, changeable as the situation changes. The same applies to the reciprocal of this: Angel is not always comfortable taking on positions of final authority. Specific circumstances would have to be present for her to volunteer for leadership roles. Angel has no desire for power over others, preferring to contribute to a group as an individual pulling her weight, working within her skill set.

Angel is a decent person, if very rough around the edges. She has strong protective instincts for those she considers friends, and like many in her family has a profound sense of family honor and its darker aspects. Despite this, she does not fully possess the brash, in-your-face manner of her Prima, nor the quiet, raw intimidation of her Tío. She is not a stereotype of her lineage, though the influence is remarkable. Angel remains her own person, a little more pragmatic and cautious than some of her bloodline, yet unmistakably part of the Familia.

She also loves to eat, and has a lack of formal manners in that regard. Oddly enough, she is one of those blessed types with a freaky ideal metabolism. She can keep shoveling it in, the calories only serving to maintain her form without causing noticeable gain. The Apocalypse has made this less of an issue as of late. Another interesting thing of note - since the Outbreak, Angel has shown signs of budding pyromania. It remains to be seen whether it is an interest or an obsession, but so far she has not been foolish about it. The girl just likes fire.

The past year especially has made her more comfortable operating as part of a small but close group out of a matter of necessity. They've been doing fairly well, all things considered. It's a good thing that she likes these people. Mostly.

Habits: Thinking out loud, absently playing with sharp things
Hobbies: Training, building fires
Fears:

• Stagnation
• Trusting the wrong people
• Failing her duties

Likes:

• Fire
• Alone time
• Food
• Sharp Things
• Sparring
• Tinkering

Dislikes:

• Condescension
• Unnecessary Cruelty
• Loud Noises
• Boredom
• Lazy Folk
• Large Crowds

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Cards On The Table

Pre Outbreak Skills:

• Security Procedures
• Electronics
• Familia Gonzalez Presión Boxeo (Switch-Hitter Mexican Pressure Boxing, Incapacitating Style - Experienced, Improvisational)
• Sharp Weapons
• Pistol

Post Outbreak Skills:

• Survival
• Equestrian
• Stealth
• Spear
• Shield
• Firebuilding
• Scavenging/Foraging
• Basic First Aid
• Redneck Amputee Engineering

Current Supplies:

• Current Clothing - 1 pair underwear, 1 sports bra, 1 black t-shirt, 1 gray pair of skinny jeans, 1 pair of hot pink tennis shoes, 1 pair of black socks, 1 bandana used as a belt
• Viking Roundshield (Taken from Astrid Hansen, belonged to a mutual friend)
• Fire Starter
• Box of tampons - Super - 10 left
• Pair of socks - neon pink
• Hunting knife
• Belt sheath
• Ruger 9mm - 7+1 capacity - full
• Belt holster
• Green denim pack
• Beach towel
• Pack of Juicy Fruit - 3 pieces left

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History

Your First Walker Encounter:

A late evening at work turned into an early morning. Angel remembered waking up on a couch in her office just before the sun illuminated the Boston skyline. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and decided that then was as good as time as any for breakfast.

There was a bakery she liked a handful of blocks away from the office, so she took a quick jog up the mostly deserted street, the smell of fresh bread and pastry calling her onward. Before she made it to her breakfast spot, Angel noticed a trio of people stumbling up an intersecting avenue, strangely wearing stained hospital gowns and seemingly unaware of their surroundings, very likely coming from the nearby Medical Center.

She saw them try to attack a stray dog, and when a morning shift garbage collector stopped to see if they needed help, they clawed and bit him savagely. The man escaped the attack and got back on his vehicle. The last she saw of them, the Sanitation workers were driving in the direction of the hospital, and the three attackers were shambling after the garbage truck.

In hindsight, that was her first Walker encounter. The experience wasn't a total loss, though: Angel was able to pick up a box of creme doughnuts and a loaf of cranberry almond bread.

History Before Outbreak:

Born in San Francisco to a single mother, Thalia Carmichael had no knowledge of her biological father until the age of ten. Her mother, a Miss Angelica Carmichael (maternal family name), left the father the day she discovered that she was pregnant. The history of the Gonzalez family was soaked in blood, and she had been planning to make a discreet exit from them anyway. Angelica wanted a safe, normal life for her daughter. As soon as little Thalia was old enough to travel, they moved to the elder Miss Carmichael’s home city of Boston, MA.

Unbeknownst to all, Benicio Gonzalez (biological father, independent contractor, and firearms enthusiast) had taken a semi-retired lifestyle and joined the Priesthood. In his younger years, Benicio entered and graduated from a prominent Seminary school; circumstances led to his more combative lifestyle before taking his Vows. Addressed as Father Benicio Gonzalez, he still performed the occasional service related to his former life.

A car accident in Boston deprived Thalia of her mother. In her will, she revealed the identity of her biological father, Benicio Gonzalez, briefly explained their history and why she was kept from them. When he was notified of this, there was an understandable element of surprise involved. DNA tests confirmed their relation, and Thalia was released into his care. It was a little unusual, a priest with a daughter, but they got the permission of the Church and the State found no legal reason to keep them separated. Benicio took to calling her Angel, a pet name he used for her mother.

From the age of ten, Thalia (Angel) was raised as a Gonzalez, with all of the good and bad that came with the privilege. She idolized her older Prima, Alicia, wanting to be like her in many ways. This is probably why she took to the family business and college with as much gusto as she did. Her area of expertise differed, but there was a significant amount of overlap in their skill sets. College and the beginning of a legitimate career working for her Tío & Prima as a Security Specialist (with opportunities for trouble every now and again) was her life plan, and it wasn’t bad. Over years of training with her family, she was even able to distill and quantify the unarmed fighting technique utilized by the elder Gonzalez brothers and their predecessors, breaking it down into a teachable discipline. Angel entered several local and regional boxing matches of questionable legality as they came up, honing her techniques until the competitors refused to step into a ring with her anymore unless the “Marquess of Queensberry Rules” were applied.

History Since Outbreak:

Miss Carmichael was assigned to her old stomping grounds in Boston as the site’s Electronics Engineer and Close Combat Trainer when the Outbreak began. As the situation became royally screwed with zero clear endgame in sight, Angel decided to book it back for the central office in Chattanooga, TN, hopefully to meet up with her family and figure out what to do from there. The problem then became sneaking out of a major metropolitan area that the military could not hold onto with full resources and manpower. In the beginning, it took much longer than expected. Building by building, block by block, ever southward until she escaped the city proper.

When she finally reached Chattanooga, there was evidence of continued Post-Outbreak survival of some of her uncle’s people at the Home Office, though she could not tell how long before they had vacated. She did note that some of their signature working gear (personal machetes, leather vest, knives, motorcycles, etc.) were missing, but the place was not ransacked. Her satellite phone had died some time before, or she would have tried one of he few communication systems left to the world. Keeping hope alive, Thalia re-equipped with what she could find, and set out for Metro Atlanta. For various reasons, it seemed the most logical place they might try next, if they chose to brave the hordes diffusing from the higher population area. They might make a push to Texas or Mexico from there, meeting back up with whatever family might survive. It was worth a shot.

Some hard times later, a starving and desperate young lady was picked up by a group of medieval and Viking reenactors on horseback, wearing old-world armor. It was a little freaky at first for the urban and pragmatic Angel, but she stayed with them for some time in their little Castle Town in Fairburn, recovering and growing stronger. She learned many useful survival skills from the Northumbrian community, teaching some of her own in trade and helping them out with runs and defense. It was really a fine time for Angel; she dedicated herself to learning as much as she could as completely as possible, training almost constantly. It was like a bad Kung-Fu movie from the 1970's, where the protagonist walls up in a Shaolin Monastery for great lengths of time and emerges a better, stronger, and wiser person. But with Vikings. And Jousters. And grizzled, medieval(ish) survivalists. She made an interesting Half-Latina Shieldmaiden.

Then disease hit Fairburn hard. Angel made the decision to leave when it got really bad, as many did. She spent some time traveling by herself, mostly just surviving on her own and plotting her next move. The Gonzalez clan was large and reaching, but the center of their existence was in Monterrey, Mexico. She would try there next. It would be a hell of a journey.

More recently, the errant Miss Carmichael stumbled across the mother lode: an mostly intact electronics supply store. Inside, she found the tools and parts necessary to repair her satellite phone. Soon after, she was able get a solid charge into a couple of compatible batteries by rigging a charger and hotwiring a car as a power source. It was unsuitable for transportation, but it made a passable makeshift generator. With food starting to run low (but a full battery charge), Thalia is attempting to reach out to anyone in her contacts list that might still have a working company phone. It is a long shot, to be certain. But worth it, and a more productive use of battery power than rocking a few levels of Tetris 2006.

Angel had been holing up in a tank for the last part of the winter. Yes, a TANK. When you see a massive piece of custom motorized armor coming up the road at you in the middle of a coverless clearing on level ground, you can either give the gunner a moving target or you can hold fast and find out what the hell is going on. As it was alone and headed in her direction, she took a risk and stuck out her thumb.

When the weather had begun to break, the time had come to set back out into the world. She had braced herself for the extremely high probability that her immediate family is dead, but felt obligated to find out. A chance meeting with a recent expatriate of Newnan, James Grady, and his small group answered the question as to the status of her friends and family; indeed dead after all her time searching. Another chance encounter with the Zed version of Astrid gave the Valkyrie final peace, and netted Thalia a familiar shield that was crafted by her good friend Bridgette (also dead).

The opportunity to destroy the people most responsible for the deaths of her people was made available, and so Thalia took part in a two-pronged attack that ultimately brought their enemies down. She lost her best friend in the attack, made other friends, and pledged her assistance to Thana until she got to Mexico Beach, Florida and reunited with her guy friend Ash, with whom she also has business. Namely, the details on Alicia, Caesar, Astrid, and Bridgette's passing. It has been a year now, but they're still kicking.

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Extras

Character Quote:

“Yeah. It’s going to be real hard to do that without teeth.”

"We've all lost stuff. All you can do is keep moving forward."

Theme Song:

Good Girls - Elle King

How Many Walkers Have You Killed:

Really? That's a question? Ok, I mostly ran from them. Running's not always an option, so I have put down plenty. Never stopped to count. Plenty.

How Many People Have You Killed:

I don't like this question. People stop being people when they think raping and eating folks is a good idea. The ones that just want to kill you or rob you aren't much better. You're just as dead.

I'm really not sure. Twelve, maybe? Hard to say. Baker's dozen? That was before Eden though... I don't know what happened back there. We killed so many of them, and it felt righteous.

Why:

Because I'm not willing to go gentle. How about that? How about - because if you leave some assholes alive it endangers a whole lot of others?

Anything Else:

roleplayerguild.com/posts/3214659

Type O Positive Blood

Faceclaim: Jacqueline Toboni

Knew Astrid Hansen and Bridgette Vinters due to previous involvement with the Fairburn group. Might know others wandering in the region because of this.

Since Fairburn, Angel's armed combat style has changed up a bit. She now fights more defensively, often utilizing a shield in conjunction with a blade against armed opppnents. Against the Dead, she is likely to utilize her spear first, keeping distance.

A popular survivalist tactic she picked up involves using her primitive spear in her off-hand defensively, keeping attacking creatures at a distance while wielding a shorter blade in her dominant hand. The technique was invented to keep larger predators at bay, but works effectively against single to small groups of the Dead with minor modification.

Unarmed, she's all Gonzalez. No need to change anything there, and is in fact a more valid technique now than before. She used to mix it up with a certain angry viking blacksmith with a similar pugilistic background. For fun.

Refers to zombies as "Zeds". Whether this refers to a French sounding "Ze Dead", the British Isles pronounciation of the last letter of the English alphabet, or just something that they started calling them in Boston toward the beginning, it's Zed.

_{*By submitting this CS in its completion I am stating I have read all the rules for this Rp and am agreeing to follow them to the fullest with respect and courtesy.}

_{"I'm sorry, did you want some?"}

Header Images

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Thalia Carmichael Relation Sheet

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Relations

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Thalia Carmichael

"Don't judge me 'cause I'm called Angel. Michael is an Angel. So is Lucifer."

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⟢ 🎆Respects ⟡ 🌓Neutral ⟡ 👋Acquaintance ⟡ 🙇It's Complicated ⟣
⟢ 💛Friend ⟡ 💙Good Friends ⟡ 💜Best Friends ⟡ ❣️Ex-Friends ⟡ 😈Frienemy ⟣
⟢ 💘Infatuation ⟡ 💓Loves ⟡ 💗Couple ⟡ 💕Basically Family ⟡ 💞Family ⟡ 💔Ex-Lovers ⟣
⟢ ♨️Tense ⟡ 💀Dislikes ⟡ 😡Hates ⟡ 👿Enemy ⟡ 👹Absolutely Loathes ⟣

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🎆/♨️/💙 Thana Martin 💙/♨️/🎆
"Take it easy, Navy. We'll find your man. I've got some questions for him, too."

Taking point and killing Adamm together was a hell of a bonding experience. Thana and Thalia seem to have an understanding, and have become good friends over the difficult months. It is not without tension from time to time as Thalia has a predisposition toward independent action, and has also made her intent to eventually part ways and see to her own quest well known. Thana has left an impression on her, however, and she can trust that Thalia will have her back. Now that Thana is missing, presumed dead, Thalia still holds out the smallest shred of hope. She wants her friend back.

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💛/♨️ Alexander Polawski ♨️/💛
"Mugs? He's an okay guy. We need to get him set up someplace."

Thalia is rather annoyed at the obvious difficulties that losing a leg brings the group. But she isn't leaving the old bastard behind. It wasn't anybody's fault, and they'd been through a lot together. Alex part of the group, and the acquired knowledge of an old soldier is still worthwhile. He just needs to find his niche. These days, what the limb removal and electronics background, they have a bit more in common than they used to.

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💘/♨️/💙 Beatrice Decker 💙/♨️/💘
"Uh oh... SpaghettiOs."

The constant "O wars" aren't really as big a deal as Thalia lets on. She's going to keep it going, though. The tension partly covers up the fact that she really likes Beatrice and has her back, same as Thana. Even reciprocates some of Bea's feelings for her. Nothing that Thalia will admit around people, mind you. She's a bitch to her outwardly, but shows her actual gestures of friendship and physical closeness away from prying eyes.

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♨️/🎆/🌓 Emanuel "Manny" Newman 🌓/🎆/♨️
"Too soon, Manny."

Manny is their medic, and Manny has proven himself. But his first impression upon Thalia was monumentally bad. It never quite recovered. Thalia doesn't hate the guy. In fact, she's got a spoonful of respect to throw his way; it's quite possible that his skills have kept them alive just as much as her own. But even a year later, she just can't fully shake that initial impression. Then of course, there are the mixed emotions about the whole "arm removal" thing. Yeah. Still too soon

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Thalia Carmichael
"I am Familia Gonzalez. And I'm more than that now."

For most of her life, Thalia has been in the shadow of Caesar and Alicia. Post Outbreak saw her learning how to survive under the tutelage of the Valkyries in Fairburn and becoming one of their Shieldmaidens. While she does intend to resume her quest to San Antonio and Monterrey, Mexico, this past year saw her finding herself and her place in the world, such as it is. Thalia Angelica Carmichael, "Angel"; survivor. Damaged but not broken and reforged anew; harder, sharper, stronger.

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

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Keystone

Location: Crossed Swords Inn & Tavern

Interacting With: The Group

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Keystone took in what was being said with keen interest. A different facet of him had been brought out, one where his obvious lack of charm and formal education was somehow obscured as his eyes and manner became sharper, more inquisitive, dare it be mentioned: Wise? Yes, a look of familiar wisdom crept onto the blunt, scarred features of the hulking man, giving him a sort of ruthless clarity in posture and speech. He assumed a straight stance with his feet shoulder-width apart and his head bowed slightly. Eyes darted around the room to gather any facial expressions from their group, hopefully to ascertain whether there were any additions or feedback forthcoming. His hands hung in front of him, one clasped in the other.

When there was a break in the discussion to speak, he did, keeping his accent a slight as he could. "Right. Only reason for a series of patterned attack is 'cause whoever's in charge is lookin' for something still. Now, what's this place 'ere, Deymin's Tower? It ain't been hit, and unless I'm daft it's in the pattern like it ought to have. I'm wantin' to put eyes on that while it's still light out, get me? Seems a spot like that, we'd want to go in expectin' to be loud and angry."

Of course, then there was the information about the amulet. It would ordinarily seem silly to put time and resources into a piece of jewelry hinted at in a dream, but Sana had certain mystical abilities that Keystone didn't understand in the least, even among other magic users. It didn't make much sense to him, but if new information could be gleaned from it, then he was all for it. "I ain't the type what goes for shiny bits 'round the neck, but if this means somethin', mayhap we should look about for it, too. Rocks, carved or natural, can mean a heap of things. That ruined tower, the caves, or even the bloody root cellar o' your friend that farmer's."

He thought for a second, "Now, if the pattern has stuff bein' hit at night, I says we look into where's next in the pattern, advance of them."

🦄 Soulless Regency - Merged With T.S.

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_{"When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom."}

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Location: Almack's

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In truth, Mary hadn't actually expected an apology from the man in any fashion. Be it overtly gruff or unconvincing, he did speak the words and then begin to exit the hall. Perhaps the odd man had some ethical merit buried in there someplace, even if it had to be yanked to the forefront by a holy woman with a huge bore pistol. Mary cocked her head to the side slightly and watched Thalken depart. She nodded slowly, giving a little bit of what she took as understanding of the strange man's demeanor. London did produce some odd ducks, the state of their aggression and potential for threat needing to be constantly reassessed. She would keep tabs on this man in the meantime, and resolved to ask into his family's history from third party sources.

The sound of firearm hammers uncocking could be heard as the Apostolic Dame lowered her howdah gun. As it slid back into its American-style holster, she intoned quietly, "Thank you, Brother Talink." It was a polite nothing. Not like she could see this man, seemingly possessed of prideful arrogance, ever donning the Black (to say Church garb, not gothic stylings) or becoming a monk. Her hand relaxed from her weaponry and she bent back down, taking up the legs of the departed Mosi Crane. "The Grand Duchess will be able to ensure her undisturbed and eternal rest, Lady Crypt. Let us get your friend out to her with haste, that Her Grace may apply her talents and I might see to the Soulless before they reanimate."

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Passive Skills:

• Fal'shbort - You are tougher, stronger, more Russian!
• Tretiy Glaz - An ability that gives a person a sixth sense into the future. Unpredictable and random.

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Location: Almack's Assembly Rooms

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The strange, dark woman Vladimir had just read with his cursory Chteniye Dushi reading had just stepped away with barely a word. Maybe it was something he had said; his demeanor was something of an acquired flavor for some. Not to mention that this was Great Britain - he and his people were not quite as widely known here, nor the abilities of their Rusyn Cossack training. The more likely answer, of course, was that she really just wanted to find her brother. The eccentric Russian with the garnered title of The Great Bazhooli did like to attribute the more dramatic reason to any situation, at least in the telling of any good story. A little flair never hurt anybody. In most cases.

Well, someone had to assist in the reclamation of dead people, which Vladimir assumed was going to be that scary Catholic girl who had mentioned something to that effect earlier, and someone had to give physical presence around Elizaveta to act as bodyguard in this strange, foreign land. I mean, the things they called "pudding"? Monstrous. No, he was going to sit tight and, with the assistance of the massive Siberian cat, make sure that his little Veta remained safe and calm; safe from Soulless and locals, both. Slow steps brought him back to the Grand Duchess as he drew two decently intimidating knives from one of the many places he maintained sharp things on his person, and proceeded to twirl them between his fingers in quick, fluid motions - up and back, down and forward.

He did notice a man elsewhere in the room. He had a damaged eye and gripped the hilt of his sword, and looked hesitant to approach. He smiled broadly at the man, mumbling, "...Вся эта суета над котенком..." and increased the volume of his voice to something more cheerful and understandable, "Come! Come... You vish audience vith Grand Duchess? She rests now, prepares for ritual to cleanse dead from taint of Soulless. Maybe you bring corpse as offering, da? Maybe two? You are big man, can handle two." he nodded vigorously, happy to continue twirling knives throughout the exchange.

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

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Reginald Keystone

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Location: Qasr El Nil Barracks

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Qasr El Nil Barracks

With Vera's sudden burst back into the realm of consciousness and the entrance of the Medial Officer, Reginald regained the vast majority of his earlier good spirits. There were always setbacks when getting underway with any assignment of any decent worth, and this was no exception. The fact that it happened to Vera, on the other hand, made it a lot more personal than most setbacks. The venerable officer made it a point to get with her just as soon as business was concluded to find out exactly what happened, seeing as his lack of discernible medical training would just put him in the way. "Yes, excellent. There there, Lady Munn, you do as the Doctor says; he shall have you up and cricketing in no time, you'll see." He was concerned. Something had to have caused this, and preferably not another one of those "visions". Yes, he would find out. But first, there was a matter to attend as the Medical Officer plied his trade.

Josephine's sudden apology took him unexpectedly. "Yes. Why, umm... Certainly, young miss. As it turns this hour, we've quite dodged the bullet." he still seemed more jovial than usual, even though his voice took on a sterner aspect, not unlike a lightly reprimanding father, "But care must be taken, always. Sinking ships, and whatnot..." The Lord Major cleared his throat, and continued in a more proper, businesslike manner, "I've no difficulty with you visiting Vera in the Infirmary, ordinary circumstances, but as it turns out we have a discussion to be had after breakfast proper; yourself, myself, and your man Haakon. We shall address the matter in the more private environs of my office, after you have, as you put it, "freshened up" a bit, yes?"

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

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Caesar y Keystone

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Location: Justice Asylum

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The older Mexican had a profound feeling that they had lingered in that building for far too long. His desire to leave grew with each passing minute, in no small part due to the number of heavily armed Californians with ties to a crooked law enforcement agency in his general vicinity. With all of the death slamming into the streets just recently (sometimes literally), Caesar wished to be on his way prior to some random bullet tearing off a lobe of his brain before he could bury his daughter and find out what secrets she was hiding back in Monterrey.

Meanwhile, Keystone was having a slightly better time of it. He stuck to Cecily like a giant, Cockney shadow as she moved from this place to that, experiencing the elation of going to retrieve the video, then the sudden disappointment as it was not within the realm of possibility. Still, this was more of the kind of work that he was accustomed to performing; Keystone was a massive blunt object that was best thrown against an opponent or used as a living wall, interposed between danger and someone in need of protection from it.

Naturally, the big man had accepted the card from the SWAT lead, as he would be the only one of their group in country after tomorrow morning (a fact that he kept to himself, as did Caesar). When they had all finished with their statements, Caesar motioned them in close and spoke with nonchalant but quiet tones. "If we're wrapped up, let's get going. It feels like we've been in this asylum for a month. And you and I," he motioned to Cecily, "...we need to pack. I'm going to lend you the Big Guy," a thumb to Keystone, "if you'd feel more comfortable, given that there's a psychopath out there someplace. I'm not sure I'll be sleeping until we get on the plane, myself."

Mind ever on food, Keystone interjected, "Yeah, Boss. I got 'er. Well, if'n she's game, any'ow." He grinned at the young Coroner, "So, 'owsaboutya then, Miss Cecily? Up for it? And wheres you wanna go for eats?"

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

@Lady Amalthea

Edit made. Thanks!

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

@Lady Amalthea

That was very presumptuous of me. Sorry about that. Please, if you would be as kind, would you make the roll for seed stores from the previous harvest? James isn't going to nab anything that the community is going to need, or even be tight with. Thanks for the opportunity to make an edit.

EDIT: On second thought, it's not very fair this late in the countdown to ask for a roll. Will edit it out entirely. Thanks!

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

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William Harper

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Location: Captain's Office

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Tech secured, Harper took a quick jog back to the fore. He paused for a second, considering his options. Basic information on the ship and items of a technical nature were readily accessible from the Bridge, true, but he had already gathered what he could from the Bridge. At least, what a Lieutenant could gather from the Bridge. After the nabbing what he could and covering his tracks, most of the systems were back to default. It would take a little doing, but recovery might be possible with time and a little effort.

The problem was that all the good stuff would require Captain's access. Ordinarily, the Bridge would be the optimal spot to access what he needed, but as he couldn't manage to screw together a Captain's rank for this little endeavor, he would have to take this to the old man's office. Affecting a flawless Alliance Right Face, he threw a salute at the office door and boldly stated, "Requesting permission to enter, sir!"

Nothing...

Harper put a hand to his ear, as if actually listening to the absent dead guy. Cocking his head to the side, he waited for a second or two before responding to himself with a satirical, "...Thank you, Cap'n!" and stepping through the door. After knowing the Captain for a scant few days, this office was everything he had expected it was. Organized, uptight, and sterile. There was a sense that it was used recently by someone else; a few things not perfectly in place, but he assumed that it was due to the presence of Anisa. The details aside, this place was serviceable for working on high-end electronics, possibly as an operating theatre.

"What was that, Captain?" asked Harper. "Make myself at home? Only because you insist, sir." He slid fluidly behind the desk which dominated the room, settling himself into the very stately chair that once served as resting place for the asses of persons infinitely more loyal to the cause than himself. "You know, chair," he said aloud again, obviously addressing the piece of furniture beneath himself, "I damn near got the official nod to sit in one of you, a while back. That, or acquire extended secondary education. Think I made the right choice? Hmm? Really? Well, fuck you, chair. You and your desk buddy, both. I'm a lot more clever than you. Oh yeah, and I'm definitely going through those drawers while I'm running a diagnostic, you can both eat it." He giggled a little while he connected his black box terminal to the Captain's personal one. "Eat it."

Yes, he was running a cursory diagnostic before delving any further. It was the smart move. And yes, true to his word to the ...chair... he was definitely looting the office for anything it might hold, be it contraband, personal effects, hardcopy backups, password clues, etc. Fast and efficient. He was a man of his word, after all.

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Foy Coiffeur

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Location: Cargo

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Upon hearing that the Preacher was indeed in the mood for what they referred to on Farraday as "a bit of sport", Foy seemed pleased with the situation. He snapped his fingers in the air, using the gesture to draw attention to himself as he pointed at both Atticus and Jahosafat simultaneously, offering, "Excellent notion, yes, particularly excellent notion. This evening appears to be coagulating into quite the social affair! Now, so far as I can gather from our impromptu planning, we've three out of four speaking up in the positive, leaving but one, that particular singularity being our new Captain." he paused for a second, "Well, not quite my Captain yet; I've not committed to terms as of this, our ongoing conversation. I remain hopeful, however. It has been ages since I've traded fire nor fisticuffs alongside my truest comrade." He tipped his cap ever so slightly in the direction of Jahosafat to emphasize the object of his last descriptor.

Foy was in good spirits. His mood was elevated enough that he volunteered something slightly out of character. "Oh, Miss Pender? No no, my apologies madame, Doctor Pender. Or shall I call you Dorothy? I am unsure as to whether our present set of social circumstances appropriately colors our means of address more toward the formal, the professional, or the personal. Certainly, we aren't quite friends yet; not at this juncture. Nor are we colleagues, either. Hmm... It is a pip confusing, but nonetheless a digression of my point, that being unmentioned until the following: If you desire the additional assistance of the dolly for purposes of transporting our personals and sundries from Point A (that being our merchant-bound vessel) to Point B (the recently acquired storage holdings), kindly allow me the space of five minutes to acquire the last of my professional cases, and I shall dedicate myself toward the expedient movement and storage of our collective belongings."

It may have seemed like a sliver of altruism came from Foy right then, but the truth lay nearer to the fact that the sooner they put distance between them and the Retribution, the sooner they could move along to the frivolity. "I say, perhaps after the more laborious of our efforts have concluded and our business draws to its cessation, I should hazard a look into town; get a feel for local prices and attempt to secure suitable lodging, so much as the civilized parts around these docks may provide." Foy began back out of the Cargo Bay, eager to grab the last of his things and get started.