Recent Statuses

2 mos ago
Sounds like it's time for me to get my handcuffs and my ballgag.
2 mos ago
Current Sounds like it's time for me to get my handcuffs and my ballgag.
1 like
3 mos ago
To anyone waiting on posts from me: as some of y'all know, my place of work minorly caught on fire on Tuesday and I had to deal with that. Literally. Anyways. That's why I'm slow lately.
1 like
3 mos ago
As a Texan, the proper spelling is "Y'all" not "ya'll." It is a contraction of "You all" not "Ya all." That's all I have to say on any of this.
3 mos ago
I'm happy to announce that, illness-wise, I seem to be out of the woods. Thanks for your patience, everyone!


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Most Recent Posts

Location: Dorm
Interacting With:Remnants of Weed Couch Gang, Ylva

Buford had been taking in the ongoing events around him with an unusual silence. Though, no one here would have any reason to think Buford being quiet was anything out of the ordinary. He'd watched people come and go for various reasons and with various causes, and he'd watched Ylva go through her whole small breakdown without saying anything.

It wasn't until she explained exactly what she'd heard that Buford finally raised his eyebrows and decided to speak up for a change. He wasn't entirely coherent, as the brownies were starting to kick in and giving him the sort of sleepy confidence that weed tended to give him. "Woah," he said quietly, "That sounds like bad news bears, right there," he said in his exacerbated drawl. "I'd be inclined to make some sorta ascuzation that Ziggy accidentally put some of his LSD in the brownie mix but we'd all be feelin' it by now if'n that were the case, so you're off the hook, buddy."

Buford gave a nervous chuckle. "Hey, Ylva, is this the sorta thing that happens to ya often? Like, having voices n' whatnot speakin' atcha?" Buford tilted his head a bit as he looked at her, trying to express genuine curiosity. "I only ask cuz I had me an uncle way back when. He heard voices and whatnot, too. They locked him up in the loony bin fer it but in the end he were right. Dude had voices sayin' where to find some old treasure hidden by some kinda old bandits way back when. One day he goes out there, he finds the shit, and never hears the voices again. Wild shit, man. So I guess I'm seein' if you had those sortsa experiences before yerself."

Isaac had indeed been considering kissing Bernie at the end of this song, but it didn't really end naturally. Instead, the announcement was made about homecoming king and queen and Isaac shrugged. "Not much suspense when you think about it. We all know how this ends..."

Isaac shuffled his feet for a second and looked at Bernie as the music came back on, leaning close so she could hear him and also to hide his reddening cheeks from her gaze. She didn't need to know how nervous he was to say this. "As far as I'm concerned, Bernie, you're my homecoming queen... how's that for a cliche?"

That was when Isaac decided to lean in and go for the kiss. Nothing too bold, as he was entirely without practice and, well, he was far from being an expert. But kiss her he did, and as the cerebral fireworks faded he managed to speak again.

"I'm... glad you asked me to give you a ride all those months ago... and that you made me take you out for ice cream. And that you were patient with me and my... insecurities. So... thank you, Bernie. You deserve all the affection I can give you."

Isaac watched Bernie leave and pulled his face into a frown just long enough to not be able to stop the brief melee that unfolded before him between Trevor and Deus, and Isaac quickly found himself alone with DJ for a few minutes.

He was... really not sure what was going on. Things had fallen apart fairly rapidly, and not exactly in the expected way.

Once Bernie finally came back, Isaac let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He looked her over and leaned in his chair. "You alright?"

He could tell that something had happened, he just didn't have any idea what. Well, ok, it turned out Rob had slept with Ara first and that was somehow worth causing a ruckus about? Multiple times over? Isaac got it, it was a dick move to spread that kind of shit about people's personal business. But dammit, did it really matter? Isaac was just... confused.

So he took Bernie's hand and after a minute, stood up and smiled at her when the music slowed. "Whaddaya say we go and have ourselves a dance, Berns? Would be a shame if we were here for the dance and didn't bother giving the chaperones something to do." He winked and gave her hand a small tug. "Come on."

Location: Dorm
Interacting With: Weed Couch Gang

Buford found that he didn't really have anyone to talk to, and so he began to wander, following the Lou guy. He was a nice enough fellow. He'd been the only one to interact with anything Buford brought, and so now Buford felt himself starting to regret calling in so many favors for this party. Especially since the weed brownies seemed to be the only thing drawing a crowd.

Well. If you can't beat 'em, eat em. Or something like that.

Buford made his way over and took one of the last brownies from the pan. It looked... wrong. He took a bite and quickly realized he'd basically just taken a bite of bud with brownie mix on it. he swallowed, because he wanted to be high and didn't care much about taste, but he did have to look around and see if he could figure out who made these.

"Hey, I dunno who made these, but you're suppos' to soak the weed in melted butter for a while, then use the butter for the brownies once it's nice an' weedy. Not put whole-ass bud in the brownie mix."

Buford chuckled and realized he still had the blow-up doll under his arm. "This one here is uh... shoot, I can't recall the name. Matilda or something." He took the sunglasses off the doll, put them in his pocket, and then handed the doll to Lou. "Here. I think she done taken a shine to ya."


Your men snap into action. Pepsi is going to be out of your hair for a long time. You know, in the back of your mind, that their people are going to come sooner or later. They WILL end up coming around to see what became of their Warhand. But for now? You've got the beast in a cage.

Unfortunately, your bad day isn't quite over yet.

It'sa few hours past noon by your reckoning when an alarm goes up along the eastern wall. One of the guards spotted something coming out of the jungle, near where Hemlock has her shack set up. Within moments, you hear shots being fired, yelling, and the dull roar of everyone in Steelbird Landing bracing for the worst.

The shots don't stop. More rifles join in the shooting. Something big is happening.

What do you do?


Several hours have passed since you emerged from your vision, and Key has been at your hip since then, often touching you with her fingertips on your arm or your back, occasionally placing her palm on your chest wound.

"Did you see her," she asked you when you emerged, "Is she not pleased with us? It is as I said... she will come into the world through our flesh, will she not?"

Key is smiling much more than you are used to. Suddenly, her resentment has vanished. If anything, her loyalty has become rabid and steadfast even in these small hours.

As you are finishing lunch, Key suddenly sits bolt-straight, her eyes wide, and she points in the direction of Steelbird Landing.
"He has arrived He has arrived He has arrived He has arrived He has arrived He has arrived He has arrived..." She continues the sentence over and over, pointing towards the town with her eyes wide and unseeing. After a few moments her eyes roll back into her head and she collapses to the floor.

What do you do?


The two of you have been running for several minutes by the time you reach the walls of Steelbird Landing, erected from tall logs covered in whatever sheets of metal they could find: car doors, street signs, all of it.

"Hey," comes a call from above you as you approach. It's Twist, one of the town guards. "What are you ladies doing so far out here?" He has that look in his eye that you're all too familiar with: He's trying to figure out how he can turn this into some good fucking.

"You guys lost? I could walk with you down to the gate, maybe we--" Twist glances at some movement out of the corner of his eye. "What the FUCK is THAT?!" He lifts his rifle and points it a short ways north of where you're standing.

He has arrived.

"Run!" Twist doesn't hesitate to open fire on the creature, whose head turns slowly until it sees Milk.

"Womb," it says quietly, and steps forward with a plodding pace even as it approaches the two of you.

Hemlock, you have followed Him to the walls of Steelbird Landing. The guards have seen him, but they fear his baleful majesty and seek to pelt him with bullets. Beyond, you see Sparrow and Milk, and you see Him turn to them. He will put the Seed within Milk, and she shall bloom with glorious purpose to strike down the cancerous growth of falsehood and despair.

What do you do?


Asphalt, you're in your usual spot. Tell us about it. You had to send off a customer for being a fuckin' prick today. Who was it? What was she doing?

Twix is there too, just so you know. She's been acting funny, though. Seems really distracted and just wants to hang around your place. Why is that?

Oh hey, one more thing:
What do you do when you hear Twist on the wall above your spot start hollering at some "ladies" and then start firing his rifle? What do you do when Twix starts laughing about it?

@Dutchess Sarah

First and foremost, I cannot imagine the loss you're going through and I'm so sorry. I am certainly far away, but if there is anything I can do for you, please let me know.

On less important RP matters: No problem. I totally didn't make the connection that it was the same person because I'm fantastically bad at these group RPs, apparently. You're good.

Location: Dorm
Interacting With:EVERYONE (Generally)

Buford realized fairly quickly that he was carrying his conversation with the redhead, and decided to just move along. Ford was the sort to push a little bit to see if he could get the conversation going, but even he knew when it had become a lost cause. Like talking to a wall.

He wandered a bit, not wanting to inject himself into any of the current conversations. They were already proceeding quite nicely and he didn't really want to terribly inconvenience anyone if he could help it. So, he bundled up his wagon of miscellaneous items and made his way to wherever it seemed the grub had been hidden away.

Once he found the counter where things seemed to be gathered, Dord began unloading his wares onto the countertop, doing his best to make them look vaguely presentable.

Soon, the same countertop with the original platter of wings now had 2 beer kegs, 3 boxes of wine, 2 bottles of Jack, 48 additional chicken wings (which he kept separate from the lovingly homemade stuff, which was probably better), 6 Po-boy sandwiches, 8 bags of chips, and 8 sorts of dip. The only thing he hadn't brought with him was plastic plates and cutlery. Which seemed lacking.

"HEY!" He called out over the music, "Food's here! I've also got Twister!"

I do wanna BUMP.
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