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Now, now - let's be honest with one another. I've been around for less than two decades as your kind measure time. The occasional week- or fortnight-long excursion, while lovely, still places me at something of a disadvantage. You have to understand that my time amongst you was not spent with any ordinary families; you know the paradigm - mother, father, offspring, and so on. But from what I can tell from various works of fiction I've sampled, your kind doesn't place the same premium on usefulness that we do. Speed, intelligence, the capacity for complex, predatory thinking - these are the instruments by which we receive the closest thing we have to familial "love" - our increased aptitude at the tasks we're handed mean that our elders owe us more, because we've done more for them. This fosters in us a wanting to better ourselves, and so on. But it's a cycle with an abrupt end - become too good at what you do and you are seen as a threat. Human family structures, in placing importance on happiness, avoid this trap. There are so many of you, comparatively speaking, that not every family needs to produce a genius, a powerful fighter, a cunning infiltrator, a masterful tactician. You're allowed to waste time on things like art, for which I must admit I have a soft scale or two. If you are not the best, your life can still have meaning and enjoyment. The fruits of child-rearing are given to your race as a whole, for better or worse, while we hold ours close. Time is currently telling us which way is better, I think, and I sincerely wish that cooperation between the various serpent families was more than a punchline for a not-very-funny joke.
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Sep 8, 2014 00:25
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AdjectiveNoun posted:Casiguaya: My name is Casiguaya. I don't get why people up here have so much trouble saying that right, but they do. Most people up here just call me Cassie. It's easier that way. Well, for all I said about how hard it is to get food, they do have a lot of really good food that I could never get back home. Stuff I've never even heard of before. You know what pizza is, right? Holy poo poo, pizza. And red meat, fruit, cheeses, potatoes, ICE CREAM. There is so much different food up here, it would be a waste to go home without trying it all, right? And not all humans are all that mean. Some of them are pretty nice even, and, you know, way cute. Ohmygod, don't tell anyone I said that. But just between the two of us, this is kinda my chance, right? No Dad looking over my shoulder scaring off anyone I like. Seriously though, don't tell them I said that; I would literally die of embarrassment.
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Sep 8, 2014 00:32
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AdjectiveNoun posted:Euphemia: Of the people I've converted, a lot of them aren't real believers. Many people are willing to grasp any message of hope in a storm, and others 'converted' for protection, viewing it as just another gang on the streets, and wanting to stay out of trouble. Those are the worst, since I still have to help them out of trouble with other gangs to keep the image up. The various drug dealers are the biggest opposition really, since it's hard to accept salvation while being bound so tightly to another god. But my biggest failure was my greatest success. Remember when I told you about burning down one of the Bricker hideouts? Obviously, they wanted to get some payback, but the only real information they had was that a girl around my age did it. So they just went out hunting, beating up whatever random girls they found. Well, one of the girls they found was Violet Tannin, who any idiot could tell couldn't work up the nerve to burn an offensive book much less a building with people trapped inside. I heard the screaming though, the morons were beating her up just around the corner from the church, so I got to her before they finished breaking both her arms. I'd learned my lesson about mercy from the last time I fought them, and only left one of the four alive. Violet would have died in a few days in the state she was in, but after I rescued her she was ready to embrace the truth of god. After a short prayer, her arms had been healed, and I could hear the the whispers of his voice, speaking to her as well. She looked like a completely different person when she stood up, took one of the bricks, and smashed in the last Brickers head. She took to his will much more wholeheartedly than I had, and for a few weeks there were two prophets in town. But it didn't take long for me to notice he was speaking more to her than he was to me, and his attention was starting to drift. If she supplanted me, would I lose the blessing entirely? After a week of suffering, I couldn't go back to that. Afraid and jealous, I struck first. Though she might have been even more of a fervent believer than I was, I knew how to use the blessing better. I left with a limp, and she left with a broken neck. He was, uh, not happy. To put it bluntly. Though I think he might have been a little pleased at the lengths I was willing to go. He didn't lift his blessing that time, but refused to heal my leg, forcing me to let nature take its course. No one has ever converted quite so totally since. But I don't mind.
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Sep 8, 2014 03:08
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AdjectiveNoun posted:Grace:In your time on Earth, you've done something that you know God would gravely disapprove of. What was it? What, you mean aside from killing someone that one time? That was honestly the worst of it, but the truth is, I do a lot of things that the Boss Man would not approve of. Like, remember how I said I'm willing to crash wherever it's safe and convenient? Well, I'm not always alone. I'm an angel -- I'm supposed to be chaste and upright and removed from the world, not stumbling exhausted into bed with someone I don't even know at the end of a long day. I mean, it's not like this is every night or anything. But it's just... so much easier now than I remember it being while I was alive, and definitely easier than when I was Upstairs. It's not really rational at all, but for whatever reason the sex is what makes me feel most guilty. Probably because I can't actually justify it as anything other than pleasing myself. It's not helping those in need, it's not keeping anyone safe... it's just making it so I don't feel quite so alone, for a little while.
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Sep 8, 2014 03:49
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Betty: You died by drowning, Sirocco is dying by flooding. What do you think about that, and what do you do to try and affect people in the city? Cassie: While you want to help in this city, it seems that there's a lot of humans who aren't interested in helping anyone but themselves. When you ran into one person like that, what happened? Ruben: Not all problems can be solved with violence - what's one you've solved without the use of fists, or threats? Carrie: Sometimes, when you scare people, they run away. Sometimes, however, they want revenge. Someone tried to get vengeance on you. How, and were they successful? If not, what did you do to them? Eve: This Lyssa thing seems to dominate everything you want and everything you do. What is it about Lyssa that's so good, and how come you're the only group in town capable of making it? Seth: Is there anyone in your family you like, or who like you, or is it all, if you'll pardon the term, a nest of vipers? Euphemia: Sometimes, the Lord works in mysterious ways. What's one order he gave you that didn't seem to make sense, and if you followed through with it, what happened? Grace: Most people only see you as a figurative angel, someone selfless and charitable, but someone suspects there's something more to you. What happened to give them that suspicion, and what does it mean for you?
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Sep 8, 2014 05:25
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Mason the Mortal What do you want? Are you a cop? You have to tell me if you’re a cop. No? Okay then. Name? I’m nobody. I might as well be. You think if I was somebody, someone anyone else might care about, I’d be here sleeping on a sidewalk and pan handling for spare change? I’m that faceless lump on the curb no one wants to acknowledge as they pass by. I’m the kid God forgot to bless. I’m the faithful sheep who prayed to Him each and every night, minded my Ps and Qs as His Good Book commanded me, and then was so cruelly cast from His flock. Family? Disowned. I learned the hard way that in this world, you can’t help who you end up loving. And to put it succinctly, my parents did not approve. They, in their infinite patience and understanding, gave me until the end of the week to get help or get out. I chose the latter as you can see. It’s not like I miss home though. Here manages to suck just a little bit less than bumfuck nowhere Georgia. At least here, I’m free. Worldly possessions? Uhhh, you’re looking them. Not a whole lot as you can see. I don’t have anything worth stealing if that’s what you’re after. The last thing of real value I owned was my cell phone, but that was pawned over a month ago. It wasn’t of any use to me after my parents shut off its service. I got a good week worth of food out of that deal. Ate like a king. But now, well now it’s tough to be honest. I could use some money if you’ve got any to spare. I should probably charge you to answer these dumb questions. Okay, maybe it’s not all bad. Maybe things are looking up. There are others out here too, lost and forgotten. I think I’ve met someone, someone who’s going to look out for me, care for me, and love me. And I’m going to love them back. And that’s all you really need in this world to get by, right? quote:The Mortal Sorry! I will get the NPC and location a little later.
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Sep 8, 2014 07:48
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AdjectiveNoun posted:Betty: A bit of a morbid question, you know? The one thing doesn't really have anything to do with the other, it's just a coincidence. Right? Wait a moment! What are you trying to say? Just - just because I d-drowned, doesn't mean I have anything to do with that horrible flood! A lot of people died, you know, had their homes ruined; I would never do anything like that! I told you all that stuff I don't ever tell to anyone – and now you say things like that! How would you like it if someone blabbered out all your secrets? And – and… Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me; you would never do anything like that. It’s just when I think about that stuff, I feel so upset and helpless and – and I know there is not really anything I can do about it. So I shouldn’t talk about that! It’s much better to talk about problems that can be fixed. And hey, you even asked me about that! Well, for one thing, I help out in the soup kitchens around town. I told you about that, right? Cooking, serving, organizing, sometimes scavenging if there’s not enough to go around – that kind of stuff. I even get to keep some of the food, which is funny, because, well, I don’t really eat anymore. And I try to pay attention to people that might make things disorderly. Of course, a stern word is often not enough for hoodlums like that, so I try to find out all there is to know about them. The things you can find out when nobody is really paying attention to you. And when I know enough – well, the right word to the right person can do a lot! Is there anything else? Oh. Well. I guess there is. You know, you mentioned it earlier, the thing with me drowning and Sirroco dying from the flood. Which I don’t believe! Well, the last part. But – I still have a lot of free time where there is nothing to do. And I explore the city – I keep out of sight, of course – and I wonder… I mean, a lot of people died from that hurricane, right? So, are there other people like me around? There must be! But I haven’t found any yet. Well, that’s not exactly true. I haven’t found anyone exactly like me yet. Sometimes, in these empty building, I feel… I know someone died there. And I look at their things, how they lived and I imagine how they died. I imagine what they would say to me if they could speak. And sometimes we just talk and they tell me about their problems, well, in my head. Not all of them are nice, of course – ungrateful, really – but some are. If I can, I help the nice ones out – a lot of them have something they didn’t get to do, things they did not finish – and they help me out in turn. You know, tell me where some food is still stashed, when someone dangerous is coming. One sad thing is that once I’ve helped them, they don’t really talk with me all that much anymore. Well. There are a lot of empty houses in Sirocco.
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Sep 8, 2014 13:32
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Mason: Tell us about your lowest point - the worst thing that happened to you. Was it when your parents disowned you, or has something even worse happened since? Betty: Having been around for so long, you must have some good stories to tell, well, maybe some bad ones, too. Can you share something notable you've witnessed?
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Sep 8, 2014 15:56
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Ruben: Not all problems can be solved with violence - what's one you've solved without the use of fists, or threats? Ruben Most problems are handled by talking or giving the low down. Running, as much as anyone can say I run anything is like managing a bunch of balls in the air and trying to make sure that they don't fall. I don't order anyone around, I tell everyone the problems and we work together to figure out how to fix them. We work together because that is the only way that we will be able to survive, not working together no matter what I might be able to do, or how hard I hit, I just won't be able to take on the whole world. You think I haven't had my knocks? I have, you get it once in a while, it might not be today, hell, it might be years or decades, but one day you are on the street alone and find that no matter what you do, you are powerless. Some people can't deal with that fact at all and it breaks them, you can see them on the streets wandering mumbling to themselves and flinching whenever come close. Others, well they give into it, and just accept it. I am not one to accept anything. Not since I was born, have I accepted anything I was given. So yeah, we talk things out as a group and do it often. Most of the time several times a day, once in the morning and once at night mostly. Gotta see what got done and what people could do, what people need. I fell into the job of being the moderator, they looked up to me, and respected me. In turn I have to respect them and have. A few times it has been jealously but is that not the way of all things, one guy going around and hooking with a few of my peeps. It was hard to come too, but the fact was easy to negotiate the dude was not good for anyone. So just told them that if you told the dude that he was married or whatever it would be the same as the world outside. Inside, everyone is their own person, if they want to go off and gently caress someone? They want to leave you and move in, they can do that. The alternative was to go out into the big world where they can talk about legal documents and bullshit like that. They can call the pigs that they were too close to them or whatever. The fact remained that what was done was done. It took more than explaining it, I have to move them at least help them move. I suggested it, and pointed at a spot where the dude didn't have to see his former lover making out with his new girl or whatever. It just takes a lot of respect and talking out things. The best thing to remember at least inside the group is to think how to fix it before you start. They can rant and rave but when their family starts all telling them the same thing, it is hard to not admit. So far things inside the community work great doing that, all the talk, no one talks down, and it all is resolved. Outside is another thing though, and man, you can't loving not expect that you know? Really, outside home is always hard, and most of that is barter. Like we had a bunch of other bad peeps into some hardcore poo poo, but not gangbangers start to bust into factories around us. Looked like they were going to hit us, so I went out and sought them first. Explained what they were doing, and gave them some supplies and money and they hosed off like they should have. Really that is all you can do, and I wasn't going to go all monster on them after all, they were just kids. Real street kids, I think a few of that gals had that same lost look in their eye that I had seen so many times before. I don't know why some of them leave. Some of them just can't put up with poo poo, or just can't take rules, but some, you can tell just running from something you don't know. Those I tend to be as nice as I can be, but this is the street this isn't some loving day care. I give them what I want to give them, no more or less. There is no loving around with them, cause they will try to tug at you heart, and you gotta have a heart of steel. That is the reality of the world. You have to be cold, but kind. Gotta know when you are being a chump and when you are making a deal. Each gotta be backed with force. People do anything to live man, and that is all you can say. I might tell the pushers and pimps to keep away from us once. I try to reason, I try to convince, but the reality is that they don't respect that, I will be loving their poo poo up. Once, I strike, I am going to make sure that they can't strike back, that is all there is too it. That is the grim reality of the world each person has their own covetous need that they want to fill, and they will eat you whole, if you let them. I am the one going to do the eating up, and that is all there is too it man.
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Sep 8, 2014 18:17
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After looking over my poor writing skills and my real life concerns, I've decided it's best I don't play this game. Ignore my application.
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Sep 8, 2014 18:32
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AdjectiveNoun posted:Seth: I enjoy the company of many members of my family. Things tend to arrange themselves by generation, so most of the hatchlings and juveniles like myself I can count as friends. Those above you are targets of envy and hate, those much below you are to be ordered around. But one in particular whose company I enjoy? That would be my cousin Russel - the son of my mother's sister, to be exact. He's a little like me - if not for the fangs that refuse to hide themselves and a definite serpentine cast to his eyes, he'd be out among humanity as well. But it turned out for the best - his demeanor is kind and trusting. In short, everything we're not supposed to be. He spends most of his time doing research - turning through old books and scouring the internet - something that the elders still consider all but sorcery. In fact, he's the one who discovered the little loophole I'm supposed to exploit - at Silas' insistence, of course. I can always count on him for a friendly ear, and one of these days, I might smuggle him out for a taste of this world. He deserves it.
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Sep 8, 2014 18:33
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AdjectiveNoun posted:Betty: Well, uh... It's true I have been around for a long, long while, but I wasn't really like this, like I am now, for the longest time after – after I died. If you tried to talk to me back then, I don't think you would have had much luck. I was.. confused. I guess the main thing was, I did not realize that I died. So I did what I did before, trying to find my way out of the swamp – but I never could. Which is funny since I had such a long, long while. Anyway! That was not really what you were asking about, right? It's just that I cannot really remember everything that happened before I decided on my new beginning, which was only, hm, one or two years ago, I think. But – I remember some things, from the brief times when my head was clear. You wanted a story. Good or bad. In the middle of the swamp, there are a few patches of solid ground, you can can only reach them by boat. One day, I found that there were around half a dozen men who put up a camp. A lot of shiny metal and tubes, but I didn't want to risk getting a closer look. I think they didn't want anyone to find them. On the makeshift pier stood a man and a boy. The man had his arm around the boy's shoulder, like a father and son. The boy looked up to his father, talking excitedly, freely. I could not hear them, but I imagined he told him of his hopes and fears. The next time I saw them, it was only the boy on the pier. He was older, I – I do not know how many years it had been. He was writing in a small book and often looked over his shoulder. When he heard someone coming, he put the small book into a plastic bag and his it under the pier. At night, I took the book and read it. His name was Ralph and it was his diary. He wrote about how he had met someone and how he couldn't let his father know. In his last entry, he thought about running away. I remembered his father's arm around him. I ripped out the last entry and I wrote a new one, as best as I could, about how he thought about telling his father, then put the diary back. The next time I saw them, Ralph had grown more, almost as tall as his father. The boy was crying. His father was screaming at him, calling him a sissy, shouting he was no son of his. Ralph said nothing. When they were gone, I took the diary. In his last entry, he thought about taking his life. I ripped it out and wrote about how he thought about running away. The last time I saw them, it was only the father on the pier. He was crying and I could not see Ralph anywhere. He did not even notice me taking the diary. In the last entry, Ralph was talking about not being able to take it anymore, about having to do something, anything at all. I added one sentence at the end, about how he had decided to run away. I put the diary back, but in a different place where the father had to find it. He took the boat, the diary under his arm. I followed him to the edge of the swamp as far as I could. He seemed to know where he had to go.
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Sep 8, 2014 20:59
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AdjectiveNoun posted:Natalia: I didn't used to fear for my position. Of course, that was back when I thought I was invincible. Now I know I need to prove myself invincible before the gods will see me as such. Saying such without the power to back it up just makes me a subject of divine irony. I see all who deny my rule as a threat. To those who say I am not giving, I give what they want. Food, water, money, or perhaps some opium to loosen their minds to my bidding. If they are especially deserving, I may be forced to treat them to something of mine nothing in this life cycle has yet to experience. I think you understand my meaning. Then of course there are those who bare fangs to match their mewling. They are who I assassinate, though obviously I won't be staining my immaculate hands with the blood of a rebel. Instead, I'll ask for a desperate hand, one who's need has driven them to murder. They are easily manipulated by material gain, and in this town they are plentiful. I am also equipped for negotiation, if they would rather I change my policies to suit them instead of rise against me. Perhaps I'm a bit antiquated and needing to change some of the smaller aspects of my rule. I'm willing to lend an ear and a hand. I'm not all that cruel. I just know my place in this world, and that is the top.
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Sep 8, 2014 22:37
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AdjectiveNoun posted:Grace: Most people only see you as a figurative angel, someone selfless and charitable, but someone suspects there's something more to you. What happened to give them that suspicion, and what does it mean for you? Oh. Meg. Ugh, don't remind me. I feel bad for her, because now everyone thinks she's crazy -- she's already an aging homeless lady, so they don't need a lot of encouragement on that score. I try hard not to bust out the wings unless there's a really pressing need, but, well, I already told you about Johnny. It was pretty light, and I was in a mostly dark part of town, and I was tired, so I figured it would be fine to just nip through the air back to my place. I thought I'd gotten away with it, too, until the next day. Meg is there in line for a cereal bar and a bottle of apple juice like always, but when she sees me, she just points and starts going on about how I'm an angel. How she saw me last night, flying overhead, carrying a sword red with the blood of the wicked! How clearly, I am come to save them all and punish those undeserving, and... Well, this went on for about half an hour. That day. Obviously no one believed it. Meg isn't crazy, but she kind of... looks like how people want to think crazy people look, you know? Clothes falling apart and mismatched and the wrong size, hair grey and unwashed and messy, vaguely deer-in-headlights look whenever she gets at all excited. You know. And she's here ranting about how an apparently ordinary girl is an angel and all, so, uh, well it's not done a lot for her reputation. She hasn't given up on it, though, even if she doesn't necessarily go shouting it from the rooftops anymore. Whenever I see her, she'll ask me about why I'm here, what I'm going to do to fix this whole mess, what God's plan for this city is. And I just have to kind of smile and pretend I don't know what she's talking about. She's actually taken to following me around sometimes, and the problem is, she's pretty good at following you unseen when she puts her mind to it. I'm mostly just hoping it doesn't end up causing a problem down the line.
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Sep 9, 2014 00:58
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AdjectiveNoun posted:Eve: You ever hear people talk about other drugs? How they can't explain how awesome it is, but everything just feels that much better? Lyssa's got a lot of that good feeling, only you can explain it. Your body feels more alive, more attuned to what's around you. You see the world like you didn't before, and you feel like you can do anything short of flying. Doesn't give you superpowers or nothin', don't get me wrong. But your mind, your muscles, everything feels right. Powerful, energetic, like a whole new person. When we first used the pills I made, I felt like I could feel what the others were feeling, not enough to tell what was going on, but just enough to sense where they were. It took a while longer for everything to click with all of us, but me, I can see what they see. Takes some effort, but when I can do it, we're like one big body. An empowered being, all for one and one for all. The reason no one else makes what I make is because of the special ingredient. It's my blood. Not too much, not enough to kill me. But I gotta bleed right into the mix, getting things going that way. We're able to spread ourselves among others, but what makes it special, I'm not quite sure. I woke up, and whatever I found, that first batch, it -inspired- me. I had to share what I found, I had to show the world that there could be another way. This isn't about drugs. It's about life, it's about the future. It's about making the world a better place for us to live in, free from whatever chains they want to put on us.
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Sep 9, 2014 03:12
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AdjectiveNoun posted:Mason: Well, not going to lie, having that last terrible out with my folks and getting that ultimatum really sucked. But at the time, I had Daniel which sorta softened the blow I guess. He just had this way of making everything feel right in the world. As long as he was there, nothing could hurt me. We felt unstoppable, like we could take on the entire world if needed. I suppose the lowest point in my life was when I lost him. Daniel and I had plans, plans to escape that toxic environment of hate. We were trying to get to Key West. Daniel said he had an uncle or something down there that could help us. And heck, sandy beaches and ocean breeze sure beat the stuffing out of the backwoods of nowhere Georgia. So we ran for it. Unfortunately, we got as far as Sirocco before Daniel ran out of money. Sirocco was supposed to be a pit stop until Daniel figured things out. But this pit stop quickly turned into an unyielding tar pit. We were stuck. Daniel was struggling to find a job or other means to make some cash. To save on expenses, we took shelter in this damaged building, one of many low-income developments hit hard by the hurricane. Three walls and a roof don’t make a house, but with Daniel it was a home. The fateful day came when Daniel announced a lead he had discovered. There was an abandoned canning factory about 8 miles along the train tracks. It was said to be untouched by vandals and looters. If he could break in and start moving some left over supplies, we could have us some real money. You can sometimes get as much as 10 cents a can direct from the recycling center. So Daniel left in the morning and I stayed behind to watch our stuff. I remember not thinking much of it until after the sun had set and he had not returned. I of course started to worry. They say that the most agonizing part is the not knowing, and to this I can agree with certainty. I didn’t sleep at all that night, and in the morning, I set off to find him. He wasn’t at the factory, as far as I could tell, not that I was able to investigate a whole lot. That place gave me the heebie-jeebies! There’s a reason it was untouched for so long, or so I later found out. I poked my head inside for a bit, but was unable to explore the complex fully. I ran into someone, a man with pale skin. He was like one of those albinos or something. But the really strange thing is he didn’t have a mouth. Like where people have a mouth, he just had blank skin. Maybe I was just low on blood sugar but that’s how I remember it. I saw him and he saw me, and luckily there was a fence between us. Because I high tailed it out of there as fast as I could. I went back to our home to see if maybe Daniel had come back, sadly, there was no sign of him. The only thing there was the scattered remnants of our picked over stuff. Some assholes had looted us. And this was the lowest point you just had to ask about. For the first time in my life, I felt truly alone. I realized then and there I had nothing and nobody. No family, no God, no one to love. I was truly lost. The Bellsteele Cannery  Now closed and abandoned, the Bellsteele Cannery was once the largest fish packing plant this side of the state. Thousands upon thousands of tuna, mackerel, shrimp, and other seafood passed through these facilities where they were gutted, cooked, and then extruded into compact aluminum cans. Fresh from the sea to your supermarket shelf in less than 48 hours! Contrary to popular belief, the factory folded and closed shortly before the hurricane hit the area. It has mysteriously been left relatively unscathed by the general lawlessness now surrounding it and is rumored to still contain a bounty of useful items.
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Sep 9, 2014 06:35
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Chet Burrows Chet Burrows is a duchebag. Originally from Long Island, where most people on hearing the news about Hurricane Joan would think “tragedy”, Chet thought “opportunity.” Armed only with an MBA, a trust fund, and a narcissistic personality disorder, Chet set out to cash in on the desolation of thousands of lives. Taking advantage of numerous tax incentives and subsidies designated for reconstruction, Chet aims to grab up as much real estate as he can and sit on it until actual developers get to work and prices start to bounce back. Of course, he doesn't restrict himself to legal means of acquisition. So many people died or disappeared, so much paperwork was lost, that there are many properties with no clear owner. And when you have the entire city council on speed dial, nobody is going to be able to contest your new documents, especially when your biggest opposition is squatters. AdjectiveNoun posted:Cassie: Oh jeeze, I still feel really bad when I think about this one, but here goes. One day when I was looking for ways to help fix things, I met a man named Chet. He told me he moved to Sirocco after the hurricane to help rebuild the city. He seemed nice, so I asked him if there was anything I could do to help, and he said he'd think about it and let me know as soon as he thought of something. Then he bought me lunch at once of those fancy places where they bring the food right to your table. Now around the same time I knew this nice couple, Bill and Tabitha, who lived in a house oh Baker street. It was a good house, plenty of water damage like everything, but the plumbing and electricity still worked. There was some mold in the basement, but they were working on getting rid of it. Now one day they had some kind of business I didn't quite understand they needed to take care of, so they asked me if I'd watch their house. Apparently humans are a little like hermit crabs sometimes. So while I'm watching the house, which was pretty boring if I'm being honest, Chet comes knocking at the door. He has a few friends with him and he said he wanted to fix up the house. So I invited them in and showed them where the mold was. I asked what I could do to help, and he told me to run down to the Burger King and get everyone some food, then gave me one of the money papers with a 10 on it. I was pretty hunger at that point so I did what he said. When I got back they had thrown all of Bill and Tabitha's stuff into a garbage truck, and all the doors were locked. I didn't stop crying for the rest of the day, and Bill and Tabitha haven't spoken to me since.
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Sep 9, 2014 17:48
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AdjectiveNoun posted:Carrie: Only person who's managed to gently caress me up so far is Ben "Benzene" Ignacio. Him and his buddies were squatting in a grounded boat down near the water. I wanted to sleep there, they had some wacky "no girls allowed" rule (seriously folks, what are you 12), so I kicked them out after roughing them up a little to get the point across. Turns out Benzene's a pyromaniac. He had stashes of flammable poo poo all over the place, so around dawn he comes back with his friends and sets the boat ablaze. It turns out being on fire hurts a lot, I don't recommend the experience. I don't think they figured on me getting out of there in one walking piece though; his friends took off running when they saw me coming out of the fire. Benny-boy seemed almost hypnotized until I started in on beating him to a pulp. I threw him in the bay, haven't seen him since. I think he's probably still around though, unless there's more than one rear end in a top hat who likes to burn down perfectly good buildings in this town.
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Sep 9, 2014 18:16
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Okay, recruitment is now closed. I will have a list of the accepted characters later tonight, or possibly tomorrow morning.
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Sep 10, 2014 03:19
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AdjectiveNoun posted:Euphemia: So, most of the answers I've given you have mentioned the Brickers, since they're the gang that operates around where I live. But there are plenty others. The next gang over are the Druggies, just one of the many drug groups in town, and the one next to them are the Bones. Anyway, this was about half a year ago, and I was in a bad mood that day, some of the Druggies had had a bad trip, and smashed up one of my favorite buildings. So I went in to their territory, looking for a fight and to vent, and before long at all, I run into a gang of them coming around the corner. They immediately try the mugging routine, and I try the foot to the groin routine, before starting to smash some faces in. I took out the first couple easy, but one of them was sneaking up behind me, and got a knife in my side. It hurt like hell, and got me even madder. So I broke a few limbs, shoved one through a window, and was in the middle of smashing the guy with the knifes' head repeatedly into a brick wall when He told me to stop. Now, I reeeeeeally didn't want to stop. The fuckers stabbed me! So I took the knife, and was about to start stabbing away when he told me again, to STOP. I could feel the blessing starting to trickle away, so I backed off, and it came back, but I was not happy. I spent the next day fuming, until a I heard an explosion a few blocks from home. As it turns out, the Brickers and the Druggies had been fighting off and on for a few years, until about a month ago, when a construction group moved in to fix up a block right in between their territories. Since the construction came along with a increase of police presence, and they had both been getting into fights with the Bones, they called a temporary truce to keep the cops off their backs and give them both a chance to finish off the bones. Obviously neither group actually trusted the other, so they kept guys on watch at the edge of their territory, but neither one wanted a fight, so no one was doing anything stupid. Until I went in and set the powder keg off. Almost literally. Apparently they'd been building up a supply of fertilizer, and they thought I was a Bricker, so they decided to use it to take out one of the Bricker safehouses. The Brickers didn't plan on taking that laying down, so they got a few guys into the sewer below one of the Druggies' warehouses, and smashed the supports down, causing the whole building to collapse, sinking underground. Things just got worse from there, and as far as I know the two gangs are still going at it as strong as ever today.
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Sep 10, 2014 03:50
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Accepted characters are: Grace, the Angel Seth, the Serpentine Euphemia, the Infernal Casiguaya/Cassie the Selkie Eve, the Queen Natalia, the Mummy I’ll get up an NPC list soon, but for now, backstories! Grace: Someone reminds you of heaven. They gain a String on you. Seth: Your family seeks to control your every move. The head of your family gains two Strings on you. Euphemia: You owe debts. Give away Cassie: Someone stole your pelt, withholding it from you to make you their errand boy. They said they'll give it back. Each gain a String on one another, and they say the first task they've given you. Eve: You find someone threatening. Give them a String on you, and take two Strings on them. Natalia: You see someone as a threat to your position. Give them a string on you. If you have a soulmate, each of you take a string on the other. I'm going to sleep soon, so if you want to handle some Strings while I'm gone, here's a link to the Strings Sheet, but I can also handle it in the morning. AdjectiveNoun fucked around with this message at 00:19 on Sep 11, 2014 |
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Sep 10, 2014 05:51
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quote:The lord loves someone else more than he loves you. Naturally, a rivalry has sprung up. You gain two Strings on them, and they gain one on you. quote:Someone thinks they can save you. Gain a String on them.
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Sep 10, 2014 06:36
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AdjectiveNoun posted:Euphemia: A whole group of them swarmed out, and the fight was going pretty badly for me when they got from the side by that girl Eve's weird drug cult. Didn't look like they meant to save me, but happened to be in the same place at the same time. Together we cleaned them up, and I told them that their sins would be overlooked for today, but it was time to repent and look to the true god, if they wished to survive. I wasn't in much condition for more fighting though, so I had to book it myself. Look for two more PCs to pickup the other debts, if you have an idea, go for it. AdjectiveNoun posted:Euphemia: AdjectiveNoun posted:Eve: GodFish fucked around with this message at 08:16 on Sep 10, 2014 |
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Sep 10, 2014 08:11
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AdjectiveNoun posted:Cassie: I've seen Seth swimming around by the coast from time to time. It's odd, really, the way he swims. Not like most humans, just splashing their arms and legs about. He uses his whole body, like an eel. Strange.
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Sep 10, 2014 18:00
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Thanks dear, Nown.quote:Grace: quote:Euphemia: Silly girl doesn't know who she's talking to. quote:Cassie: quote:Someone has accepted their place at your feet. Take a string on them. Errand boy's such a cruel term. I merely saw her usefulness while I was out and decided to employ her. I told her I'd compensate her time with a sample of my riches, but she just really wants this pelt back doesn't she? I've told her to find the source of Castalia's spring and look for a woman with black hair and garbed in blue. That's going to be Joan without a doubt. Once she reports back to me, I'll... Oh, sorry, lost my train of thought. quote:You see someone as a threat to your position. Give them a string on you. I swear Eve, you get on my nerves sometimes. quote:If you have a soulmate, each of you take a string on the other. Let's keep Joan our little secret, to be addressed at a later time, hmm? She's nowhere to be found, at least not yet, and I'd much rather address the basilisk in the room. Double May Care fucked around with this message at 20:36 on Sep 10, 2014 |
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Sep 10, 2014 19:41
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AdjectiveNoun posted:Seth: Things are the same here as in my world, it seems. You can still effect change without drawing too much attention to yourself. I've been watching Grace, and she knows when to act and when to fade into the background. It's worth examining further, though I must admit that direct violence has never been my style...
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Sep 10, 2014 22:49
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GodFish posted:I'm thinking that rumors of Euphemia's anti-gang/drug crusade have probably spread enough for the Lyssa League to have heard of it by now. To make this official. Look, me and Grace, we don't see eye to eye, but I doubt we're going to come to fighting any time soon. We got our views on the world, and while she's scared that I'm turning people away from the good path or whatever, she gets that the fight for people's minds isn't something you win overnight. The big religious type, Euphemia, she's a different story. You read the Old Testament at all? She thinks that was soft on everyone. Look, I'm not saying she's gonna light my crew on fire for enjoyin' the pork in our Pork and Beans, but she doesn't seem to think twice about just -doing- things. I'd say she's nuts, but who knows. Given everything else, God may be really, really pissed. All I know is that God's not destroyin' my family without a fight. The Lore Bear fucked around with this message at 02:52 on Sep 11, 2014 |
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Sep 11, 2014 02:14
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AdjectiveNoun posted:Grace: Natalie... somehow reminds me of everything I didn't like about Upstairs. I know, I know, that's pretty melodramatic. She's just another two bit schemer who thinks she can carve out a piece of town while everything's still half in ruins. But it's just the way she acts. High and mighty, like she's better than the people beneath her, like she doesn't have any actually obligation to keep them safe even while they're doing what she wants them to. I'll have to keep an eye on her too, I guess.
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Sep 11, 2014 05:20
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AdjectiveNoun posted:Euphemia: I'm one to always pay back an injury with an injury -or worse if I can pull it off, an eye for an eye might leave the whole world blind, but stab for a punch leaves you on top- but that doesn't mean I won't pay back a kindness for a kindness either. Not that you see too many of them around here. Anyway, this one girl, Cassie, always seemed a bit out of her element here. I think she's one of those kids who hears about a disaster and comes down to try and fix things without really have a clue. She's the only one whose lasted though, I'll give her that. The point is, I'd never paid her much attention on the streets, but one day I was making my way back home with an injured leg, and I'd be forced to hide all day, so I hadn't had anything to eat, and I run into her. She never quite seems like she has enough to eat either, but she was eating a hamburger, and looking like it was the best thing in the whole world. My stomach starting grumbling as I smelled it, but I wasn't about to ask her for it. I don't beg, and she probably needed it more than I did in the long run. But then, she tore it in half and gave it to me! Just like that. I haven't had a chance to pay her back, but I will.
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Sep 11, 2014 07:04
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Okay, I've bolded who gets to highlight stats for who on the Strings page. Even though Seth had 2 strings on Grace, to Euphemia's 1, I let her highlight for Grace instead, and gave Natalia to Seth, to make sure everyone had a person to highlight. I'll get an IC thread up sometime today or maybe tomorrow, and we'll probably need to make more NPCs because we don't have many at all so far xD pre:NPC List Moe - can get stuff of all varieties Joan Castalia - Water Nymph, tied to the fortunes of Sirocco(?) Sandra - Former best friend of Euphemia, creeped out by her ‘weird cult thing’ Jeremy - Former football player, now smalltime crook Chet Burrows - Unscrupulous real estate opportunist taking advantage of the flooding to make money. Douchebag. Bradley Thomas - Hiding out from gangs, saving money so his adopted family can make a run for civilisation. Ms. Maguire - The only social worker in the flooded zone, constantly overworked and overstressed. Gangs: Brickers: Gang known for carrying bricks around. Druggies: Led by Piotr, control the conventional drug trade in Sirocco. Rushers: Led by Ruby, loving maniacs. Lyssa Gang: Eve’s group, not all Lyssa addicts, but gang is known for it. The Gauthier Clan: Seth’s extended family. Cold-blooded schemers, almost all of them.
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Sep 11, 2014 12:30
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Eve can highlight cold.
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Sep 11, 2014 15:20
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I want to see what happens when Seth stops pretending he's totally cold-blooded and gets a little Hot under the collar.
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Sep 11, 2014 16:44
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Let's see Natalia get all sorts of manipulative. Highlight Hot.
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Sep 11, 2014 18:42
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Cassie, you swim around entirely too much. You're bound to catch Cold.
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Sep 11, 2014 19:13
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Grace, highlight Hot.
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Sep 11, 2014 21:09
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Basic Map of Sirocco It's left intentionally vague so you guys can make up whatever buildings or subdivisions you like, but basically: Everything below the squiggly line is partially, or heavily flooded. Old Town is cramped, full of buildings as old as the first Spanish missions to the Americas. Downtown has malls, supermarkets and office buildings. Beachfront Dry Quarter is, as said, mostly dry, has the largest actual government presence, and is where the aid shipments mostly arrive. I'll post an IC thread as soon as highlights are done. While we're waiting on TLB: Grace, I'm highlighting Trespass for you. Seth, Cold Cassie, Dark Eve, Hot Natalia, Dark AdjectiveNoun fucked around with this message at 00:16 on Sep 12, 2014 |
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Sep 12, 2014 00:14
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Euphemia, highlight Volatile.
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Sep 12, 2014 01:32
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And I'll highlight Dark for Euphemia, and game thread will take a little longer to get up, hit a hangup with an essay, sorry. It'l be up later tonight.
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Sep 12, 2014 01:50
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IC thread is now up!
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Sep 12, 2014 18:04
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| # ? Apr 26, 2024 20:18 |
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http://imgur.com/m8mlyra I went ahead and doodled a few additions to the map so that my brain would shut up and stop worrying about geography. The new bit would be mostly beachfront stuff, and would be above water, if not what you would really consider dry. Definitely totally wrecked up. The orange dot is generally where Cassie lives, and the purple bit is one busted rear end dike. Place was probably a swamp before someone got the bright idea to drain it and build a city.
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Sep 13, 2014 04:35
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