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Post by Deleted on Aug 1, 2016 23:39:37 GMT -5
Welcome New Rp'ers!
To begin I want to say that this rp is in need of new joiners and that we are 100% open. This is an rp that has been going on for quite a while (since this spring to be exact), however since the nature of the rp focuses around a group of people surviving in the apocalypse, it's not too hard for someone to jump right in. If you have any questions please direct them to myself or Gojira (the other mod to this roleplay), and we'll have no problem answering them right away. If you are new and interested in joining, I do ask that your character begins as a rogue and we'll have the main group find them soon (in other words, no characters should begin the rp knowing each other).
About the Rp
This rp takes place roughly 2-3 years after nuclear warfare in post-apocalyptic America, in which nearly all of the human population has died off and any surviving animals have mutated to become disfigured and extremely bloodthirsty. Our characters are some of the few who have managed to live so long in the wastelands, each with their own sets of troubled pasts and skill sets. Most of the characters have banned together to form a sort of clan in the "new world", one with a leader and those who play specific roles. Other characters may include rogues, people belonging to smaller groups, or even villains of sorts. The roleplay simply takes place in America, which means that the characters can explore forests, cities, towns, and you name it.
The nature of this rp is more serious and focuses primary on characters fighting for survival, although there are major themes of companionship, humanity, and gray morality. I do ask that you're at least 15 to rp, just because of some dark content that'll be rped, but of course we won't turn anyone away!
Rules
- Literacy: this is a literate rp, which means that I expect at least ten sentences per post (equivalent to about two small paragraphs). Writing more is extremely encouraged, however.
- Activity: if you're going on a break (3+ days) please alert the people you are rping with as you may have a group of people waiting for your reply. if you're gone for two weeks without warning i will delete your character from the front, but save their information in a word document in case you're ever willing to re-join!
- Realism: although this is an apocalypse rp, i do ask that you maintain a sense of realism. real-world limitations, scenarios, and physics still apply. if you're wondering if an idea of yours strays from this rule, please ask me or Gojira and we'll let you know.
- Respect: treat all roleplayers as you would want to be treated yourself! that means being fair, inclusive, and kind to one another. please do not ignore or mistreat anyone in this rp- if you have a serious issue with someone that needs to be resolved, PM me and i will try to sort it out, just please don't bring it into the actual rp itself.
- Listen to the Mods: above all else, Mods' rules are law in this rp. If we see something inappropriate occuring in the roleplay we have the power to state whether or not it's in compliance with the rules (even if the rules don't explicitely condemn the act). don't worry too much about this rule as it is genuinely only used in emergencies or if something has gotten severely out of hand.
Members
Creator: june: Agnes || Wilhelm || Timothée || Jamal
Mod #2: Gojira: Ash || Isaac || Amelia || Sinclaire
Rpers: нσωl: Riley || Vivienne || Roux || Shelley paradox: Arlo || Rowan || Quiet || Ghost ≫ maple: Annika || Clementine Tals: Borya || Alyona || Devoss ɢнoѕтlιɴɢ: Sinopa || Ezri || Kit || Sune || Shiloah
How to Join
To join the rp, simply post the name of your character and their description (however long you'd like it to be), and after review I'll add them to the front! I do ask that you wait to rp until either me or Gojira can approve them, but after that you're free to go. Also feel free to roleplay as many characters as you're able to keep up with.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 1, 2016 23:39:48 GMT -5
Characters:
- Agnes Pluie Agnes is a young woman in her early twenties, and though she’s stopped keeping track of the years she supposes she must be around 21 or 22 at current. She stands at 5’3 and has a bony frame thanks to years of little to eat, which sharpen her features making them rather harsh to look at; at one point she had a softer and certainly kinder face, though through the years her cheeks have managed to sink in considerably, with swollen purple lines forming beneath her eyes. Although she is malnourished (and has all the looks of it), she’s also become accustomed to surviving on her own using wits and (if needs be) brusque hand-to-hand (or stick-to-hand) combat, giving her clumpy, clinging muscles around her arms and legs. Her face is scattered with sparse light brown freckles and her usually alert-looking round eyes are a feminine light blue; on the side of her left cheek, trailing to the bridge of her nose, is a dark reddish-pink port wine stain birthmark, a twin to one she has on her right shoulder as well. Agnes has mousy brown hair which has a natural slight curl to it- at almost all times she keeps it up in a messy braided bun so that it remains out of her eyes while rummaging, fighting, or doing as she does. She typically wears loose clothing (a T-shirt four sizes too big, for example), and sports either a skirt or loose shorts over it; above all else woman tries to be as practical as possible, and has likely lost most sense of aesthetic when it came to maintaining herself, choosing instead to be “apocalypse-practical”. Agnes is more comparable to a wild animal than even a person, struggling with knowing how to properly get across emotions, communicate, or fit into a group scenario. This isn’t to say she’s a complete recluse as she does thrive when there’s another person (or even people) to have around to fight for, but her lack of ability to fully connect often leaves her frustrated and dissatisfied with herself. She wasn’t always like this, and bits of her previous cheeky and kind-hearted self does occasionally shine through, but it’s a rare occurrence that’s usually reserved only for people she’s gotten to trusting. If she doesn’t trust you, she tends to be short and even a little controlling, more focused on keeping herself and her allies safe than making friends with strangers. To her enemies she has little problem with doing whatever is deemed necessary when confronted by them (this most certainly includes blatant murder), though at the same time she’d be the first to jump in front of a moving truck if it meant keeping someone she cared for safe. Her strengths include awkward conversations, making rash on-the-spot-decisions, running away for hours at a time to “clear her head”, and relentlessly kicking butt with no more than a stick as her weapon. Originally Agnes grew up in Fairhaven, Massachusetts near to a popular fishing port with her father. She took college courses at a nearby school for political science and quit only when her mother became ill, in which she chose to stay home full-time with the woman until she inevitably kicked the bucket. In that time Agnes was engaged to Jamal, though after surviving through the apocalypse she gave up on all attempts at re-kindling a relationship with the man. She also worked in a bird shop for a while, and is perhaps the best person to see if your parrot is feeling unwell (likely this is a useless talent in the apocalypse however). Agnes has a deep fondness for “fluffernutters” and the surest way to her heart is through a cheap tub of marshmallow fluff. Her absolute goal in life is to learn how to properly shoot a gun.
- Paul (Wilhelm)
- Timothee
- Jamal Fitzgerald
- Arlo Castillo Although of a muscular build that could only belong to a boxer – or at least, a former one – and with a solid demeanor to intimidate, there is a slacken in Arlo’s shoulders from the weight of constant worries and anxieties. There is a permanent tinge of exhaustion in his clear blue eyes underlined with dark circles and his entire appearance seemed to have aged several years underneath the stress he’s been dealt from assuming a leadership responsibility. Descending from immediate Mexican heritage, Arlo’s skin is a light brown but darkening everyday underneath the sun, although his arms is littered in pale scars and his mussed, unruly hair is a dark chocolate color. Calloused hands that can pack a punch, a crooked jaw and nose from being hit once too many times in the boxing ring, Arlo’s rough appearance strangely contradicts his outwardly calm and calculated personality. Although a bit on the gruff and blunt side in terms of personality, Arlo does have the capacity for empathy and will extend it towards those he believes deserve it. Which is to imply that Arlo doesn’t offer kindness towards just anyone he comes across, often taking great care in who he chooses to place his trust in. However, this constructed system of his is flawed deeply by the fact that he values strong skills to make up his group thus being easily won over if personality is a bit lacking. A naturally born leader, Arlo is willing to take the brunt of the blame and tolls of others’ faults, make the tough decisions that no one else will, capable of carrying every person in the group under his responsibility; all in order to pave the way for an easier tomorrow, like his older sister had once done for him. Even so, every once in a while, he is tempted to make choices founded off of personal feelings rather than take into account how it will affect those around him but after sacrificing his old self to the world, suppressing his own desires and wishes in favor of everyone else’s, Arlo sometimes can’t help but wonder whether he deserves to be selfish every now and then. Overall, however, Arlo has become a rather stressed mess of a person, only doing what he thinks is right rather than what will be best, practically tearing apart his formerly easy-going self in order to be the leader he believes his friends deserve and making himself susceptible to any strings that might attach him back to his old life.
- Rowan Delgado With a daunting appearance to pair quite well with his personality, Rowan has one thick scar running across his nose but it was earned far before the apocalypse, and the rest of his arms and body are littered in other scars and healed wounds to showcase how much he’s survived and his knack for getting himself into the fights that he can and will finish. His hair has grown past a reasonable length, often hanging in emerald green eyes but always in his face and a stringy mess of unwashed, unruly russet color. It is undoubtedly a nuisance but he refuses to ever see a blade go anywhere near his neck, much less his hair, even if it is handled by a trusted friend. Much like Arlo Castillo, Rowan descends straight from a Mexican heritage and shares the same tone of brown skin but his Spanish accent hangs thicker in his voice, becoming most prominent when he is particularly irritable (which is, admittedly, almost always). He’s built with lean, almost dense muscles and stands at an intimidating height of 6’1” which gives off the accurate energy that he isn’t the most approachable person, will sooner break someone’s nose or neck rather than reason or negotiate. Built to fight than to talk, Rowan’s got a spitfire of a personality; impulsive, hot-headed and perhaps a bit petulant at times but easily golden hearted. Easy to irritate and difficult to gain the trust of, his consistently abrasive attitude can grow quite bothersome as it only ever leads to stubbornness and sharp-tongued retorts. It’s easy to deduce that he was the youngest brother of three at one point, given that he latches onto older sibling figures (in this case, Arlo Castillo) yet rarely listens to authority or anyone at all, not to mention the fact that Rowan will brag about his hunting skills or anything else he can come up with when given the chance. However, underlying the more prominent rough and tough traits of his, Rowan has a good heart and only really longs to rebuild a family he’s lost, especially as he is unable to function without a foundation to stand on. Admittedly, he isn’t afraid of much, not of other people and not of pain, but the only real fear that haunts him is the thought of somehow being alone, carrying into frequent nightmares of being the last one standing. Overall, Rowan is very much like an overprotective guard dog but much like dogs, he has an unshakeable loyalty to his friends and will put himself in the face of danger for them without a moment of hesitation.
- Quiet Slender formed but built with lean and strong muscle, Quiet might have been intimidating if it weren’t for his porcelain features and forest green eyes that are topped with long eyelashes that make for a “pretty” exterior. His cold and borderline feral demeanor easily makes up for this slight drawback of appearance, however. His wavy, chocolate brown hair is short cropped with long bangs brushed off to the side. Quiet is always dressed in a loose, black tanktop with military-grade suspenders strapped over his shoulders and around his waist while wearing a pair of tan, cargo pants. Much like his name suggests, Quiet isn’t much of a talker. In fact, he doesn’t speak at all, which often leaves his thoughts left to ambiguity but he chooses to occasionally express any feelings or opinions through small acts and gestures. Whether his silence is a legitimate disability or a personal choice remains to be seen or rather, heard. For someone who doesn’t say a word, he is a quite stubborn person, clinging to his first instinct at all times and rarely leaving any room for a change in heart. Otherwise, he is quite a frequently indifferent and apathetic individual but will strike violently whenever he feels threatened and without warning; all bite and no bark. Social norms elude him and he acts far more like a wild animal than he does a person, distrustful of others and their intentions. He has detached from humanity but is searching to regain it some way or another. Consistently enigmatic with a penchant for impulsive action, Quiet is inclined towards morals than most would think and has a deep-running longing to find trustworthy companions or someone he can build a bond with since he has recently found himself without purpose or duty to anyone.
- Gabriel Vaquero-Castillo or “Ghost” “White as a ghost.” Bestowed to him by the company he kept down in Mexico, Ghost earned the nickname due to the pale, white skin he had been born with, which certainly stood out amongst the others and became the target of playful teasing as children but the name somehow managed to stick even as they all grew older. While he had used to insist on being called by his real name, something that had turned into a joke overtime rather than childish annoyance, he now rarely answers to it and only sees himself as Ghost. The name has long since adopted a double meaning to it as the man’s former self has died away with the Old World, leaving a shadow in its wake; a ghost. What once had been a laidback and humorous person has distorted into a volatile, paranoid and irritable wreck. Believing he’s reached rock bottom after being left for dead shortly after his old group fell, and with quite literally nothing else to lose, Ghost has quickly evolved into a dangerously mercurial person in the ruthless environment, just as harsh as his surroundings if not more. He’s not afraid to get blood on his hands and in fact, he does so on a regular basis, having become desensitized to death and he chooses to view such acts as a necessity to continue surviving in the New World. Contrary to what most would believe, there is a part of him still underlying this ghost that’s taken over, something still alive and something that still shines through in the rarest moments, but after all that’s happened, everything he’s done, it’s very possible that it’s far too buried to ever be reached again.
- Fox His given name doesn’t stray far from his appearance; lithe build, angular-faced and a mischievous twinkle in his one eye that could only belong to a trickster. Fox has a lanky body, naturally on the slender side and now even more so after the apocalypse arrived and while he might able to hold his own against others through wit and luck, Fox could easily be overpowered by anyone slightly taller or more muscular than him, which is why he prefers to keep confrontations at a long-range distance. He has short cropped black hair, seemingly growing out of an undercut and his left eye is his only working one as his right blinded eye is covered up by a triangular-shaped eyepatch. Coming from Mexican heritage, he has dark brown skin and his body is littered in multiple tattoos that he’s given himself to keep busy during the prison time he had served. Much like his nom de guerre suggests, Fox is a trickster spirit. Deceptive, cunning yet unhinged and unruly; Fox portrays erratic behavior and should perhaps be the last person to place any form of trust in. He carries no allegiance to anyone, only temporarily following whoever offers enough incentive but only until a better offer arrives, which makes him an unreliable companion. This system is not unlike an assassin, which is incidentally what his profession had been before the apocalypse. There doesn’t seem to be a serious bone in his body as he is far more inclined towards snarky disposition even towards awful predicaments that have no way out. Despite frequently behaving in egotistical, borderline narcissistic ways, Fox seems to not care whether he lives or dies. In fact, he has a bad habit of intentionally placing himself in situations where the chance of making it out alive are excessively slim. Fox enjoys toying with his own life, though seems to borne out of some deep seated mental problems than mere rash impulse. Fox’s defining trait, however, is his expert marksmanship, his aim deadly accurate to the point that the words “I never miss” being fairly common his tongue. Guns are practically an extra limb for him as he is skilled in every caliber. Fox is a trickster in more ways than one, such a title extending into his skillset. He rarely ever shoots at point blank or even shoot straight like any regular in the new world; Fox enjoys to make his shots complicated, opting to fire in the directions where the bullet will ricochet off of multiple surfaces before hitting the intended target. These trick shots of his actually do carry the purpose of confusing his targets as which direction the bullet will come from is impossible to narrow down but the core of his reasoning behind the trick shots are frankly just to make things more “interesting”.
- Ash
- Isaac
- Amelia
- Sinclaire
- Riley
- Vivienne
- Roux
- Shelley
- Borya Borya, or Боря, stands at a whopping height of 6’7”. He towers over his sister, and his eyes are usually pointed downward. His evergreen hues usually tell the most story, as he never really expresses his emotions anywhere else upon his massive frame. Covering his face is mangled scars, the most prominent ones being the form of five long streaks starting from his left temple and over the bridge of his nose from the attempt of a bear trying to get him. Sitting over his left eye is a scar going downwards, and faint little ones dotting his jawline. His lips are constantly pursed, and his silver-dirty blonde hair is constantly neatly combed. Over his broad torso is his plaid button up shirt, with no undershirt. When revealing his bare torso, he holds large scars over his left chest. Sitting on his hips was long blue jeans, held up by a belt, with another belt over it. It holds his hunting knife, and his concealed carry that sits on the small of his back. Up mid-calf is combat boots, which are laced all to the top and are held taut by the fact of leather laces. Unlike Alyona, he wasn’t much a sweet attitude- and never will be. He is quiet, and tends mostly to himself and his sibling but will make a great contribution to trying to keep everyone alright. However it seems that he does get a bit… ‘sassy’ or smart-Alek when he’s exhausted.
- Alyona Alyona, or Алена, is the sweetest girl you could have meet before the apocalypse. Standing at 5’5”, she comes below chest height on her monstrous brother. Her hair is now at mid back, and when she gets the privilege of washing it, it holds a bright silver hue, and in the sunlight flecks of blonde. Her minty hued eyes are wide and blinking, and her lips are rather plump. However, with being without Chap Stick for the past few years, they’ve accustomed from their dry state to their soft form. Her jaw is angled upwards, which is somewhat unusual for most people, as they can’t really open their mouths as wide. Upon her somewhat lean frame is a black tank top, with a red plaid shirt that’s oversized. However, because its oversized she tends to wear it in the cooler times of the days and months. When snow falls, or even freezing rain, she adorns her dark jean jacket that’s lined with fur at the collar. Sitting at her hips is two belts, one to hold up her black pants and the other overlapping it to hold her hunting knife, and bullets to her SKS that’s usually slung over her shoulder. Her jeans are tucked in at mid-calf into snow boots. There’s a bullet hole in her left thigh, revealing a mangled scar that once housed said object within her skin. Added to it, her left palm is scarred as well, the little female covering it with an extra cloth she usually carries around in case of an emergency. Alyona tends to carry a hide pack upon her back, to carry necessities like newfound items or even food that they might need.
- Devoss
- Annika
- Clementine
- Sinopa Sinopa is by no means average. Her black hair brings out the paleness of her skin which seems to have almost never seen daylight and her frame is slender and thin. Sinopa stands at 5’8 . Her face is framed by her hair which cascades over her shoulders and ends at the middle of her back, in addition her hair is parted on the left side of her head. She has a delicate nose and a spray of freckles that separates her face into hemispheres. Above the line of freckles, are a pair of dark blue eyes surrounded by thick, long lashes. Her bangs are long enough to cover her eyes but thankfully are easy to manage and rarely fall over her eyes. She will wear a brown, oversized jacket no matter the weather because it is like a security blanket for her. She also wears a grey dress with black tights and brown boots. Sinopa tends to have multiple sides of her personality. She is quick to argue depending on what the topic is and she will protect her friends fiercely. She tries to be happy and cheerful. She worries a lot and when stressed will toy with anything she can get her hands on. She has a five year old daughter named Ezri whom she will do anything for.
- Ezri Ezri takes after her mother in a lot of ways. He has the same black hair that is styled in a bob with bangs cut straight just over her eyebrows. Her nose is the same as her mother's but her eyes are a bluish green. She has the same long lashes as Sinopa. Ezri wears a navy shirt with white stripes and grey shorts. In adition, she wears grey sneakers and has a grey jacket that used to be her father's before he died. Ezri isn't one to leave her mother's side and is rather shy. She is sweet and innocent though and loves to play around. She is too trusting and too naïve.
- Kit A girl of seventeen that stands around 5’6, Kit has long brown hair that reaches a little past the small of her back and dark chocolate brown eyes. A subtly beautiful girl that prefers dresses, long, loose yet strong vests that she has sewn holsters for weapons on the inside, thigh high socks, and boots. She has fairly light skin and discrete muscles not visible on her thin body. The teenager grew up on the streets with her two younger sisters after running away from home and is skilled at using her wits to protect herself. She has two sisters that she was separated from in the apocalypse and if she has a lead on them or if they are in danger, she will do anything to save them even at the risk of her own life.
- Sune A young girl of fourteen who is around 5’1, Sune has long black hair reaching the middle of her back and yellow eyes that are close to the color of crayon usually used to draw the sun. Her features are fair and she has pale skin. She is thin and lithe. Sune is usually in a yellow hoodie that's a bit big on her, a black skirt, and black sneakers with yellow laces as well as a black knapsack she carries things in. The young girl is often emotionless in her expression and voice so she often rarely speaks. She has a love of foxes and has a stuffed black fox that she keeps in her hoodie. She is good at throwing knives and has a deadly aim after honing it through her life on the streets.
- Shiloh A little girl of eight with the size of a six year old. She is the younger sister of Kit and Sune. She was named by Kit since their mother died giving birth to her and has been raised on the streets. The only reason she is still alive is because of her sisters. Shiloh has dark brown hair with lighter streaks that are natural highlights. Her eyes are a light green with orange flecks in the irises creating a hazel look. She has a sweet child appearance yet she is not afraid to use the knife she carries in the pocket Kit sewed into the inside of her lilac overall dress that she wears. Under the overall dress is a pink shirt, white shorts, and she wears white knee socks and purple Mary Janes.
- Mikael, "Mika" A 5'8" Pacific Islander with shoulder-length, dark hair, blue eyes, glasses, and a simple style of dress. He doesn't have much besides his backpack and the few supplies he's gathered along the way. He's somewhat naive, but not without a gentle heart and curious mind.
- Paisley It is obvious that Paisley was once a stunning young lady with golden hair and sparkling sky blue eyes. The luster of her hair is gone now and her eyes are dull from exhaustion and hardship. Her cheekbones, once filled out and appropriately pronounced, are now sunken in from lack of food. She has lean muscle all over her body, but she borders the line between malnourished and skinny. While Paisley has retained most of her natural beauty, it is masked by the experiences that she has gone through. She would swear that she was already growing gray hairs. She is shorter then most 24 year old women, standing at 5'2". Her only two change of clothes (one can't afford to have a closet in an apocalypse it seems) consist of a pair of jeans, shorts, and two t-shirts. On her feet is a pair of worn out combat boots. Her shotgun stays strapped to her back basically 24/7, but she only has one round left. Ammo is quite hard to come by so she decided to only fire that last round if her life depended on it. Most of the time, she uses the fact that she has a big ole fat gun as an intimidation factor. Before the world was blown to pieces and the animals became beasts straight from the underworld, Paisley was married to a man named John. She was on her honeymoon when the world went to pot and the two newlyweds barely made it out of the town that they were staying in alive. Two weeks after the bombings, John was killed by a fellow survivor as he was searching a new area. Paisley was left to fend for herself since she wasn't able to get back to her family and a few days later, she looted a shotgun off a dead man's body and started to look for other people to join up with. She keeps her wedding ring on her ring finger at all times to make sure that she remembers what she lost. Being all alone in the world changed Paisley. Once she was happy and the life of the party but now... survival is all she thinks about. She is cold and tends to be wary of new people. She stuffs most of the more... delicate emotions away. One of her pet peeves is being touched. She can't stand someone being inside her personal bubble. Her words are snappy and most of the time her lips are turned down in a frown. She can be very sarcastic and is quick on her feet. While she isn't the sharpest tool in the shed, she is a great puzzle solver which is handy if you live in a post-apocalyptic world. Nevertheless, she is extremely loyal and once she knows that someone can be trusted, she would do anything for him or her, even lay down her life. She lost someone that she cared about once and she would never want to go through that again. She absolutely adores cats. Truthfully, she is a big teddy bear that has a billion layers to protect herself from the scary world that she lives in. Paisley had been in her second year of nursing college when everything started so, while she doesn't know everything about inguries and how to treat them (it was a long time ago anyways so she has forgotten most of her training), she would know more then the basic first aid.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 1, 2016 23:40:00 GMT -5
save 2
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Post by Deleted on Aug 1, 2016 23:41:40 GMT -5
(( [creeps in] anyways, im gonna use sinclaire, amelia, and ash i think ))
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Post by нσωℓ on Aug 1, 2016 23:43:27 GMT -5
I suggest four, no more than five. Too big of a gap might be hard to fill you know? I'm keeping Riley and Viv for now, Roux might come in later if we need some bad guy action
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Post by paradox on Aug 1, 2016 23:49:39 GMT -5
i'm just keeping arlo, rowan and quiet. and i'll be bringing in arlo's ex, ghost c: ghost could also work as a subtle antagonist, too. trying to drive a wedge between the group, insists on constant murder and questionibg typical morals if anyone's down for that?
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Post by Deleted on Aug 2, 2016 0:02:33 GMT -5
oooh a wedge in the group would be so good?? im definitely willing to exploit agnes's questiomable morals tbh ))
ok id say like 4 months then. i definitely want enough time to establish a considerable break from the old one but, as you said, not one so long to make it feel unnatural.
should we say that quiet has joined them (possibly?), and theyve been camped out on a fairly secured location for a few weeks? not sure where tho- any better ideas and additions are v much appreciated haha ))
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Post by Deleted on Aug 2, 2016 0:04:49 GMT -5
(( as far as a camping area, i vote abandoned farm. there would be enough space and resources to make it a reasonable camp choice, but seeing as it would likely be more removed from civilization THERE WOULD BE MORE MUTANTS TO MAUL THEM ))
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Post by нσωℓ on Aug 2, 2016 0:04:49 GMT -5
I'd say Riley has taken him under her motherly wing at this point, despite Arlo's protests
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Post by нσωℓ on Aug 2, 2016 0:05:12 GMT -5
(( as far as a camping area, i vote abandoned farm. there would be enough space and resources to make it a reasonable camp choice, but seeing as it would likely be more removed from civilization THERE WOULD BE MORE MUTANTS TO MAUL THEM )) I second this
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Post by paradox on Aug 2, 2016 0:14:02 GMT -5
hmm i think i'll have quiet have made a break for it a while ago and just had been secretly following them around this whole time lol he'll def end up asking to join them tho. & i love the abandoned farm idea!! it could be thickly forested, too so more mutants could wander onto the farm. maybe a twd-type deal, where there's a small town way off that they make supply runs to??
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Post by Deleted on Aug 2, 2016 0:15:46 GMT -5
(( thickly forested and a small town for supplies are great ideas tbh. i'm ready for my characters to become humble farmers tending their crops ))
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Post by нσωℓ on Aug 2, 2016 0:22:47 GMT -5
hmm i think i'll have quiet have made a break for it a while ago and just had been secretly following them around this whole time lol he'll def end up asking to join them tho. & i love the abandoned farm idea!! it could be thickly forested, too so more mutants could wander onto the farm. maybe a twd-type deal, where there's a small town way off that they make supply runs to?? Can Riley sneak food to him when/if she sees him omg
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Post by paradox on Aug 2, 2016 0:30:09 GMT -5
omg quiet doesn't deserve riley and her good heart but yes! 0:
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Post by Deleted on Aug 2, 2016 1:27:32 GMT -5
sounds good! you can do some starters if you want i think i might head to bed soon im crazy tired
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Post by Deleted on Aug 2, 2016 13:02:58 GMT -5
Agnes was just on the outside of their farm, lingering past long-overgrown wheat fields to where the farmland died off to make way for cool grass and sparse trees. She had a gun on her, though even without it she would've found herself relatively secure and comfortable to wander about. It was a few months back- she couldn't be sure of their exact number- that the group had found the farm they resided in now. Endless fields assured that danger would be noticed before it got too close, and it was far out enough in the country to avoid much traffic from rogue travelers. On top of that they now had the occasional crop springing up, including fresh apples from a nearby apple tree. While she was still a little bony, the young woman had managed to put her meat on her bones and was looking considerably less skeletal. On the side, her and Jamal had grown close as friends but had both decided there wasn't any time for them to forge what they had before while trying to survive simultaneously. She also still couldn't shoot.
Oddly, things were working out. The apocalypse tended to steal away any chance of building something worth while, and yet they seemed to.
Agnes slumped to the ground, a freshly picked apple in her hand and a gun in the other. The brush waved somewhat a little ways off, and Agnes raised her pistol to it, toying the idea of actually shooting something for once. Realizing it was simply the wind that had made the leaves curl, she set down her weapon and let a faint smile slip onto her lips. It was little moments like this in which she found the most peace. While she had long sense grown used to crowds, the damage from years on her own was irreversible, and a bit of time away from the group was always warranted to her. Agnes leaned back against the grass and took a bite of her apple, staring at the sky for a few moments in thoughtless meditation.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 2, 2016 13:28:05 GMT -5
Wilhelm was sitting nearer to the cluster of buildings that made up the main part of the farm. He was outside, as he usually was, smoking a cigarette and relaxing atop a tree stump. He was the same kid as he was before, bony with lanky features and bits of muscle clinging to him, his blonde hair in the usual mess that it always seemed to be in. In the months past, he did little to grow in maturity and seemed to instead grow in his inexorable sense of boyish cockiness. This isn't to say he wasn't at all useful- tell him to do something and he would (with a bit of complaining)- he was simply a little ahead of himself. After all, the farm they stayed at wasn't exactly unfamiliar to him, as he'd been around plenty back in the days he was growing up in Alabama.
That, and he knew how to shoot like a pro.
Wilhelm squinted his eyes against the rising sun, his cigarette hanging lazily out of his mouth. "Christ." he grumbled, hopping off of the stump and yawning. "I could go for a hamburger right about now." He spoke really mostly to himself, but was mulling over the idea of somehow getting a few cows on their plot of land. A half-grin flitted onto his lips at this thought.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 2, 2016 14:01:41 GMT -5
"-And furthermore, you can't shoot worth a damn!" "Neither can you, it's your fault we didn't get that rabbit earlier!" "Oh please, all I did was tell you to shoot. It's not my fault you freaked out and nearly blew your foot off!" The sound of two bickering voices could be heard echoing throughout the woods. The former belonged to Amelia Grijalva Garcia, a scrappy girl of about 5'4" with fiery orange hair and, peculiarly, a gas mask fitted across her face. She stomped through the undergrowth, clearly quite annoyed at the young man trailing behind her. Her companion was Sinclaire Lutsky, who was a good four inches taller than her and would've had a nice smile if it wasn't for the missing front tooth. The two were clearly very worn and ragged around the edges, their clothing stained with blood and mud and viscera from previous encounters with mutants. It was also clear that they had been traveling together for far too long. It had only been a few months since they ran into each other, and they threatened to leave the other constantly but they both knew that they were safer together- even if they couldn't stand the other.
The event that they had been squabbling over had been dinner. Sinclaire was the only one with a gun, and upon encountering a large rabbit they had intended to kill it. Alas, Sinclaire was a terrible shot and when Amelia had told him to just pull the [freaking] trigger he had shot the ground and scared their meal away. Amelia had stormed ahead a good ways, not really caring if Sinclaire got left behind or not. That was when she reached the edges of the woods, and noticed some structures off in the distant fields. "Ay, there's a farm up ahead. You can hang out in the woods and mope, but I'm going to go check it out."
Ash had been adjusting fairly well to farm life. Although he was still lanky and looked like he hadn't had a proper meal in quite some time, he had managed to get a little weight on in the months they had been on the farm. He had ditched his trademark pinstripe suit some time ago as the thing had become far too tattered and torn (tossing it away had been an emotional moment for him) and instead was in a simple gray shirt. He had kept the tie, however. He was leaned up against a wall, having just finished a cigarette a few minutes prior. Latched to his belt was a razor whip, very similar to the one he had lost in the Ingrym fight months prior. He had been overjoyed when he found the thing in a weapons store on a supply run, as he couldn't really shoot and knives weren't his thing. He still kept up the charade he was ever so fond of, smiling widely at the others who had settled on the farm and speaking words laced with false kindness.
Except when he was around Wilhelm, that was.
Presently he had a sort of neutral expression, although he snorted when Wilhelm said something about a hamburger. "Right, right. When you go through the McDonald's drive through, get me some mcnuggets please," he said sarcastically. He sympathized though, despite the fact that they had been eating well on the farm compared to how it was out there, he still missed some of the nicer meals that the old world had to offer. He rarely though about that world now though, the new one was all he knew now and it was useless to think of how things used to be.
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Post by нσωℓ on Aug 2, 2016 14:13:57 GMT -5
Riley's eyes drifted carefully to Agnes when the other woman raised her pistol. Thankfully it was lowered quickly enough, and it seemed things would remain peaceful. Her attention shifted back to the direction that Arlo and Viv had led the supply run off in. It shouldn't be too long before they came back. Fingers crossed that they managed to find the supplies Riley had made a list of for them. Basic antiseptics and some bandages with medical tape or metal clips to hold them in place were what was mostly needed. She had listed a few antibiotics as well, but she doubted they would find them. If they managed to find at least one or two of the hard-to-finds she would consider them lucky. She secretly hoped for the rare syringes and scalpels from doctor's kits or maybe even decent painkillers. Any kind of medicine would help their stock regardless, though. Things had been going well enough, and they'd manage to settle. The farmhouse there suited their needs, and even gave her a small room to serve as her "clinic" as she liked to call it. Really it was an old storage room but she'd make it work. Sometimes when they got anxious she'd find herself in there organizing the various bottles and supplies. At one point she'd tried to keep a little potted flower but, well, she was a little too zealous in watering it. It drowned rather quickly and she immediately relenquished the idea of keeping a plant.
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Post by paradox on Aug 2, 2016 17:58:00 GMT -5
The farm was so much like his old camp – the general layout, crops steadily growing, a good and working system to keep things organized - that there were mornings where Arlo would almost expect Claudia and Gabriel to be still alive and well, dirt free and still be the same people he had known and loved. The thought was fleeting enough to keep him from getting too much of an emotional grasp on it, keeping him from believing it for too long but the same old hollow feeling in the pit of his gut was inevitable. Then, he would find Rowan on the other side of the bed, leisurely sprawled out and snoring obnoxiously like he didn’t have a care in the world. And he would go out into the day and see his group milling around, playing a part and growing into capable and reliable companions and Arlo knew that he could move on. Unlike those years ago when he had wished that he had died alongside his sister, Claudia or had been killed by Gabriel. Now he had a sense of duty, responsibility to these people, to his friends and could stand to live another day. Looked forward to living another day, in fact. “ Either of you up for a supply run? Rowan and Viv are already in, but I could use an extra pair of hands and eyes,” Arlo greeted the pair as he had finally managed to pin down the location of Riley and Agnes, his mouth worked up into a small smile at the sight of them. He hated to disrupt the seemingly rare moment of quiet relaxation they both seemed to be enjoying but he wasn’t expecting either of them to take him up on the offer, anyway. “ Need a few to stay and watch the place, though, so keep that in mind.” “ If not, either of you got any requests?” Arlo gave another smile, briefly cracking his knuckles before scratching at the scruff that’s been growing along his chin for some time now. For a long time, he had believed that he’d be able to avoid grow anything past mere stubble but he also hadn’t believed that a fall of society would be plausible either. Fortunately, he had managed to maintain a reasonable hair length, though he couldn’t say the same for Rowan. Maybe he could find a pair of non-rusted scissors during this supply run of theirs, though Arlo wasn’t banking on that hope. -- The farm reminded Rowan of his uncle and by extension, his two older brothers and aunt. Feeling guilty and angry about his lost family had worn itself out over time so he had learned to look back on his time with them with mere sad nostalgic, the thoughts of him and his brothers being dragged along to work in the orchards now something of comfort rather than remorse. He had only been at around twelve at the time, however and so had merely spent the long hours in the orchards trying to entertain himself by annoying Ranger and eating the grapefruits when he was certain that no one would see him. Of course, these memories would eventually lead to an ache in his chest and Rowan would have to abandon dwelling on it any longer by focusing on the task at hand. He couldn’t deny that he liked the hand he’s been recently dealt, had found friends in all the people he had initially detested and he had never been so relieved to have been proved wrong when it came to his claims about never being able to rebuild what the system and group he and Arlo used to have. Never would he had thought that the encounter in that city all those months back would ever lead to anything at all. “ Ay, payasos,” Rowan called out to Ash and Wilhelm as he approached the pair, rifle bumping against his back from where it hung. “ Supply run, either of your interested?” His eyes flickered between the two, expectant for any takers. He was still cautious about these two guys, especially Ash but Wilhelm seemed harmless enough. Too harmless, in fact and it irked him that he felt that Wilhelm was someone to keep an eye purely for his air-headedness. For Rowan, it was easier to be wary of someone who was more inclined to hurt someone rather than just making a dumb mistake. “ Would probably be a whole lot productive than whatever it is you two are doing right now,” He then added, narrowing his eyes and pressing his hands against his hips once he was realized that he was unable to find them doing anything useful unless they were having a very productive conversation. Which he doubted somehow. { нσωℓ ; I’m sORRY that this kinda contradicts your post, just needed to grab some more ppl for the supply run tho forgive me }
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Post by Deleted on Aug 2, 2016 18:12:18 GMT -5
"Maybe I will." Wilhelm shot back indignantly, only to realize that the response was ridiculous even for him, and bit back his embarrassment with a humored, softer grin. "Okay maybe not. But see I was thinkin, if we had cows around this place..." Clearly the kid was bored, or else even he wouldn't even have entertained the idea of such ideals. He didn't exactly even care much for particularly "good" foods, as he was a little lacking when it came to understanding the difference between what was genuinely gourmet and what could be popped into a microwave for a minute and then eaten (not that they had even that option now).
Will held up his rifle, clearly not about to shoot it, but rather just exercising his ability to. He followed the tip of the weapon along with a little bird that was floating across their blue sky; it was too small to eat anyway, and so simply teasing the thought of pulling the trigger was good enough. The Alabamian had a fantastic aim, proven only with time and continued need for it. Eventually he set down his rifle and stared at the sky for a few moments, his ruffled hair becoming even more disheveled in the faint breeze.
"Alright, screw it. I'm bored." he finally announced, hopping down from the log and giving Ash a funny look. "I'm gonna explore or somethin. You coming?" He was clearly hoping Ash would, though very clearly purposefully furrowed his eyebrows as if to appear casual and uncaring of his answer (of course Wilhelm was also an awful liar). He was getting ready to head off without warning when Rowan approached them. Similar to Rowan's feelings about them, Will did little to offer much trust to him, and was usually immediately on the defense.
"What'd you call me? If you're goin to insult me at least do it in American." Wilhelm snapped, giving Rowan a frown. Despite the fact that Wilhelm was harmless save for the occasional slip up, he tended to turn defensive in a second at even the chance that something was looking wrong for him or for Ash. Despite his initial unease however, he seemed to immediately brighten at the chance to do something useful, the irritation extinguishing from his expression in a second. "What I'm doin now is fairly productive but uh- I can take a quick break." He answered quickly, nodding as though he was doing Rowan a favor by tagging along, instead of simply being driven by his boredom.
(working on agnes now)
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Post by нσωℓ on Aug 2, 2016 18:39:51 GMT -5
(Psssht it's fine Paradox, no worries! I'll work on a reply now!)
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Post by Deleted on Aug 2, 2016 18:48:00 GMT -5
Agnes glanced up to Rowan, sitting up but not yet making a move to entirely get to her feet. She was having somewhat of a nice time, munching on her apple and pretending to herself that the world hadn't gone to hell. She was ready enough to get up and follow them out on the run, already dressed in her usual attire of an over sized t-shirt and shorts, and was plenty prepared with her shotgun, too. Feeling a little torn, she was quiet for a few moments, but ended up simply shrugging. "I'll hold up the fort. But find some marshmallow fluff, yeah?" She let a grin flit onto her lips at that. She hadn't had the substance since one of their first visits to the store, but she found herself missing it ever since.
It was a little strange for her to make a decision based off of wants and not needs. In the past all of her decisions were analytical, and ignorant toward how she may feel about doing them. Now feelings actually mattered- if she wanted to stay, she could. If she wanted to go, she could do that too. Agnes popped to her feet and stretched, giving him a smile. Everything about her was softening, becoming less frenzied and awkward. While she still wasn't exactly at-home in groups and notoriously needed time to escape, she was beginning to grow better at handling herself while in them. "But, of course, if you need more people I'm free."
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Post by Salted Squid on Aug 2, 2016 19:11:31 GMT -5
Just thought I'd pop my head in and say hi c:
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Post by Deleted on Aug 2, 2016 19:48:59 GMT -5
hey aviva!! : D glad to see youre on the new forums!
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Post by нσωℓ on Aug 2, 2016 19:55:28 GMT -5
Riley smiled brightly at Arlo, beaming sweetly at him. "I think I would be more use watching the farm, sorry. Thank you for checking though!" She gave him a small shake of the head, "But I have a list of supplies actually! Would you mind trying to see if you can find any? Most of it's just antiseptics and bandages. There's a few things that you probably won't find, I put stars by them so if you don't find them no worries I don't expect you to. They're pretty hard to come by." The offer was kind, though she knew it was just courtesy. It made her feel good to be remembered in things like this.
As she handed the list over she paused for a moment before gently grabbing onto Arlo's hand. "Come back safe okay? Watch out for any traps raiders might have set." She was worrying again, only a little though. Though it was months ago Alex's death still worried her, and it left her worried that her new companions might suffer the same fate. During the forest fire months ago she had been scared witless, barely spoke during the whole thing. The only thing she could think was him and the others burning alive like Alex must have. The relief when she saw him again though, with treatable burns and very much alive and well. "Do you need anything? I can pack you up a kit in case someone gets hurt if you like. Oh! Do you want lunch to take with you?" Mother mother, it's all she seemed to do. Never hurt to be prepared though, and she wanted to do whatever she could to help. "Is there anything you need me to do while you're gone? Any cleaning?" Anything she could do to help out she was happy to do.
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Post by нσωℓ on Aug 2, 2016 20:13:36 GMT -5
Hey Aviva! It's good to hear from you!!))
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Post by Tals on Aug 2, 2016 20:47:20 GMT -5
I feel sad I didn't find this sooner;
but I think yall should know my mains are
Devoss, Borya and Alyona
I'll lurk for a bit in the background
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Alyona's leg had healed, but it was, for the most part, scarred and the muscle somewhat torn up inside. Her eyes were bright and wide with wonder, and she kept mostly to herself and her brother on the opposite side of the farm. Her head was tilted, the warmth of the sun turning her freshly cleaned hair a white hue. It was more silver then, and Borya was lying in the long grass off to the side. Devoss- being the short man he was- was probably lost somewhere within the tall stalks of the grass, and gave no sign of ever being revealed for a while. Probably until he emerged back into the open clearing. That being said, there was absolutely no reason to get up. That is, until Alyona moved from her warm spot and stumbled like a newborn fawn to the main building. She would check and see if Rowan and the others would need any help for the day.
Borya's massive frame lifted up from the ground, slowly prowling after the little Russian and opted to blink at her as they did so. She had a bit of a struggle in the last four months, but it seemed she was cooping rather well. His dark evergreen hues blinked at her, shifting between the land and then to her before they came to a stop. It was a little bit of a game of hide and seek here, but with the tall man, he simply craned his neck and headed on his way with Alyona towards the building. The house looked so beautiful, the duo never really having been in one... in ages.
Hearing the word Supply Run, the lumbering giant gave a soft hum, the sound rumbling his chest like a large cat purring to the others. "I can helping," he offered to them as he stood upright in the home, Alyona shuffling to the side and gave a wide smile.
^Cruddy post ik
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Post by paradox on Aug 2, 2016 22:10:35 GMT -5
{ Tals!! hello, good to have you back :'D ! }
Arlo nodded towards Agnes, a soft huff of amusement leaving him at the mention of marshmallow fluff. “I’ll see what I can do. What about Jamal? Think he might be interested? Doesn’t matter if he is, he’ll fill in for you, anyway,” Arlo promptly decided, figuring that the man could stand for a small outing. Right now, all he needed were as many hands on deck as he could get since he wasn’t planning on doing anything more than simple scavenging. As for running into any trouble then having a considerable amount of people traveling should be enough to deter any hostiles and if not, then he would have enough hands to work to take out any threats. Arlo was banking on a smooth trip, though, brisk and over in no time. Truth be told, he didn’t really expect to find too much but enough to keep them well off for a good while.
“Antiseptics and bandages, got it,” Arlo confirmed to Riley with a short nod of his head, only having a second or two to make a brief glance down at the note that was handed to him before Riley grabbed his hand and attention. For a split second, the action severely startled him – somehow, he never managed to quite get used to her random bursts – but an eventual smile broke out onto his face when he realized that she was just being her usual sweet self. “No need to worry; I’ll bring everyone back in one piece,” He said, as gently as he could to keep any unnecessary worry at bay but knew that she’ll worry, anyway. At least the girl’s constant concern was endearing, even when he knew that it could only have been born out of losing someone close to her.
“A kit will be good, just to be safe,” Arlo said, appreciative that Riley’s constant worry was not useless and led to thoughtful precautions. “Lunch won’t be necessary, we won’t be gone that long,” He had to chuckle at that, reading over the list that Riley had handed up and attempting to commit at least half of it to memory. “Just scaring off any mutants or hostiles from this place is all I need from the both of you. But I won’t argue if either of you find anything to do that might help upkeep this place.”
Briefly turning away from the pair to face Borya, Arlo wavered in answering. Any other day and taking the Russian along with a moment’s hesitation but he had to consider other factors, such as who exactly he was leaving behind to defend the property. “I think it’ll be better if you stay here, Borya. I’m taking Rowan and Viv and I need someone…” Arlo hesitated, giving an uncertain glance towards Riley and Agnes. “More physically capable to stay at the farm house.,” He continued, shrugging his shoulder as he gave in to admitting what exactly had him opposed to adding Borya to supply run group. “I can take Alyona, though. Might be good for her leg.”
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Post by Salted Squid on Aug 2, 2016 22:15:00 GMT -5
Hello all of you!
To tell the truth I kind of missed you guys. You were fun to rp with cx
Who knows, maybe Skylar will make a reappearance at some point. Haven't quite decided yet
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