SillyGoy

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@ PoisonLillies

I do not like the condescending tone your post implies.

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I think we'll need to have more players before I'm more comfortable with posting.

The Hand of Nocturne (Sword and Sorcery Fantasy RP)

I, too, am interested. Sign me up.

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I can wait.

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Then maybe, after how many dozens of posts, perhaps Gerald could be swayed and an especially sweet romance between Aeris and him could blossom like a pretty, pretty flower? (´･ω･`)...

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See the edit. It's fine if they hate each other.

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I don't think making more characters does not fix the manpower problem I believe we have. We need more bodies, not more puppets. Also,

drewccapp said
Aeris' eyes noticed Gerald and she visibly tensed up. He was someone who took his time to enjoy taunting her during her feral months here.

Woah there; I don't think you are at liberty to decide our characters' relationship without first consulting me.

Gerald taunting anyone at length for an extended period of time isn't very characteristic of him. He may be a mild sadist, but he does not bully unless the inmate has become personally involved with him, like, say, when they are targeted by Todd for super happy fun times and he himself is sent to retrieve the inmate in question.

But Aeris seems like someone who would lash out and be especially stubborn, so I think Gerald would come to dislike her especially. So maybe her resistance to her captors and his heavy-handed discipline has instilled a mutual hatred.

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I think you just edit the very first post of the thread and change its title.

If that's not possible, then, eh, let's bump the recruitment thread up.

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@Toaw

Victor could go to the rec room, where everyone is at right now.

Also, I think we need new members. I wonder if it is possible to rename the thread's title to include [ACCEPTING CHARACTERS] or something to that effect.

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Gerald's eyes shifted left to right to left as he walked down the rec room, the ventilation fans on the high ceiling humming along without a care about his entrance. Inmates and guards alike stiffened at his presence as anyone would before someone in charge. He was in a bad mood, though not everyone could know: only the barest of frowns and a slightly furrowed brow hinted at a snarl and a scowl. 'Damn that Joshua,' he thought, as he cast his eyes downwards to consult the tactical display mounted on his forearm, set on finding that one exaggerated blip by the corner. 'And today was supposed to be a good day. Now it's ruined.'

After a fourth of a minute of walking, there, sitting on a bench: his quarry. A young man of a lean, thin build, effeminately so, with glasses balanced on top of a thin nose, forehead shadowed by long locks of dark brown hair. Gerald walked towards him purposefully, meeting poor Rilyn Naor's gaze with his own. His gait was even and confident, his posture superbly erect, his calm demeanor that of a Nazi SS Officer's. Coupled with his stereotypically Germanic look and the way he carried his voice, and, hell, pretty much everything else about him, he could very well have fit completely in Herr Hitler's tyrannical regime.

Gerald Williamson halted before the man, and said decisively:

"Rilyn Naor, you have just lost all of your rights except for one, wherefrom you are to remain silent. Come with me."

It mattered not whether Rilyn consented, because the good sergeant immediately pulled him up, twisted him around, and cuffed him, right then and there. Giving him a sharp, merciless tug on the arm as a signal to follow, Gerald then began the return trip to Todd. Rilyn, being ever analytical, had no discernible facial expression and simply obeyed, his curiosity piqued.

Gerald should have been born all those decades ago in Austria.