I've never made a combined post before... I really like it! Responded to both Zombie/Fallen & FreeFall in one post. Whaddup?
My plan is to continue the Chico plot despite the loss of Aweena. Her characters can sort of fade into the action, leaving them available, just unknown. If she's still gone in a month or so, we can talk about moving the characters to NPCs or opening them for adoption by other players.
Also, FreeFall, I hadn't thought Mackinac could be its own plot point, but now I am. Let's see where this goes and perhaps as we get Apocalyptica back to health, this too can grow. The roleplay has tons of possibilities, many of which Aweena and I had planned to explore. I see this as an excellent 'pathfinder' to seeing just what's possible. I'd also invite others to create second Primary Character if this moves them. I know with Simon, I feel there's much more to explore, but the divergence into Joshua is extremely refreshing. If others would like to, I'd gladly take second characters so long as they help out other areas of the RP. For example, Simon is a part of the Chico plot & Joshua is in the Mackinac line. Perhaps this can usher in a new wave of creativity, aye?
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Prometheus
Time means little when your heart beats in your throat. When moments no longer separate and the old world hours give way to the continuous now. Like meditation, an intense high, or the fog of war. Joshua knew the last well. He felt it, but could not name it. His body and mind were ‘operational’. Serviceable, minor wounds, negligible damage. Joshua let his pistol lay beside him, feigning readiness. When time blurs you should be concerned.
Sunset fast neared when Joshua recovered. He gingerly tested his feet and checked over himself once again. Speckled blood stained his vest and battle uniform, but beyond a few tears or splits, the clothes survived. The flesh managed of the same. Joshua felt stiff and bruised, and perhaps the adrenaline was still numbing the pain, but too long had passed. However long it had been, anyway.
Joshua cocked a brow and looked around. Pistol in hand, he approached the smoking wreckage casually. Besides groaning metal the world fell quiet. No strained breaths of the undead, humming engines, or even the small sounds of unseen fauna. The thought gave the sergeant pause. He looked back once more, this time following the land as it rose into what he’d first discounted as a mere hill.
“Ah shit,” Gunner sighed, his eyes taking in the cliff, ten men above him. “Mackinac. Haven of Hellish Hurdles.”
When the awe dissipated, Joshua found himself pacing around the metallic heap. He lost a moment to the distraction, but smoke still billowed and the wreck still groaned. A path started in the earth more than a dozen yards opposite the cliff. Bits of scrap remained at the start and dotted the space between marks in the land and the crash. Part way through the tail of the helicopter came apart. Its broken remains lie bent with the rear rotor pointing to the bulk of the wreck. Until he reached the the body of the chopper he saw no blood, fire, or anything to do the crash justice. And then came too much.
Blood splattered against the broken windshield of the helicopter. The pilot had somehow come loose and either broken through, or become wedged party through the already broken glass. His head and shoulder projected out, torn to shreds, as if reaching for something. Joshua hardened himself. Even in his daze, he remembered the dismembered gunner, but not the sparking wires. Gunner stumbled back and met an all too curved metal wall. The very shape of the helicopter had changed. Like a flattened oval or an egg with its shell caved in. Little fires had spread and still burnt within the wreckage. What remained of the soldiers either charred or was half buried under bent metal. Sergeant Evans planned the excavation process and how best to free the bodies of the fallen. Gunner sought clues as to where the supplies might turn up.
Saddled with two packs a few weapons slung over his shoulders, Joshua made for the cliff. A few rocks tumbled down, nothing worrisome. He felt a tingling at the base of his neck. The hairs had pricked up and something familiar sent his head spiraling. Joshua glanced up.
“Drop your weapons!” a voice commanded from above. Several figures stood atop the cliff with what Joshua presumed were rifles.
~~~
People took to the streets for blocks surrounding the eatery. Chico rocked, dry heaving with all the motions of a revolution without the ideals or passions. Some held clubs or rifles imitating them, but the streets were relatively quiet. The low roar of a mob was no firefight. After a night or two held up through a passing horde, a mob just didn’t sound the same, anyway. Night would cool the nerves and invite complacency. Mobs would disperse, perhaps the best defense against the 1007th would tame themselves. Quiet streets meant the soldiers played smart. Played quiet ‘through the passing horde’.
Simon made it to district’s edge before resting. He leaned against an old apartment converted to a shop, according to the sign over the door. Across the street there was an oil lamp and a sign post. The ‘Oroville Dam’ lie further ahead. Much further. He had no reason travel there, and no energy to manage it anyway. Rumour had it Chico was the product of a few havens, hence the expansive size, but that thing seemed a curse. The community within Evergreen kept to one space, big enough to breath, small enough to stay connected. Even then, under pressure the borders collapsed. Reinforcements came too late, if called at all. Simon studied the sign post against. Marysville, Oroville, Chico, Orland, and the miles between them. All the miles to just assume safe.
When his strength returned, Simon made his way back toward the center of Chico. The walk gave him time think and to plan. Chico deserved a warning. He needed his health, which meant rest, regular nourishment, and some pot if he could fit it. One night before the world changed again. If this went sideways like Evergreen, shot nerves and weak body wouldn’t do.
By the time he arrived to the eatery the mobs had either moved elsewhere or dispersed. Simon flipped his collar up to hide his face and sunk into the steps leading to the eatery. That Cajun, the not-slaver, he was attached, like he owed Simon something. Chances were the two would come searching. If not, he hoped the barkeep was generous.
Time means little when your heart beats in your throat. When moments no longer separate and the old world hours give way to the continuous now. Like meditation, an intense high, or the fog of war. Joshua knew the last well. He felt it, but could not name it. His body and mind were ‘operational’. Serviceable, minor wounds, negligible damage. Joshua let his pistol lay beside him, feigning readiness. When time blurs you should be concerned.
Sunset fast neared when Joshua recovered. He gingerly tested his feet and checked over himself once again. Speckled blood stained his vest and battle uniform, but beyond a few tears or splits, the clothes survived. The flesh managed of the same. Joshua felt stiff and bruised, and perhaps the adrenaline was still numbing the pain, but too long had passed. However long it had been, anyway.
Joshua cocked a brow and looked around. Pistol in hand, he approached the smoking wreckage casually. Besides groaning metal the world fell quiet. No strained breaths of the undead, humming engines, or even the small sounds of unseen fauna. The thought gave the sergeant pause. He looked back once more, this time following the land as it rose into what he’d first discounted as a mere hill.
“Ah shit,” Gunner sighed, his eyes taking in the cliff, ten men above him. “Mackinac. Haven of Hellish Hurdles.”
When the awe dissipated, Joshua found himself pacing around the metallic heap. He lost a moment to the distraction, but smoke still billowed and the wreck still groaned. A path started in the earth more than a dozen yards opposite the cliff. Bits of scrap remained at the start and dotted the space between marks in the land and the crash. Part way through the tail of the helicopter came apart. Its broken remains lie bent with the rear rotor pointing to the bulk of the wreck. Until he reached the the body of the chopper he saw no blood, fire, or anything to do the crash justice. And then came too much.
Blood splattered against the broken windshield of the helicopter. The pilot had somehow come loose and either broken through, or become wedged party through the already broken glass. His head and shoulder projected out, torn to shreds, as if reaching for something. Joshua hardened himself. Even in his daze, he remembered the dismembered gunner, but not the sparking wires. Gunner stumbled back and met an all too curved metal wall. The very shape of the helicopter had changed. Like a flattened oval or an egg with its shell caved in. Little fires had spread and still burnt within the wreckage. What remained of the soldiers either charred or was half buried under bent metal. Sergeant Evans planned the excavation process and how best to free the bodies of the fallen. Gunner sought clues as to where the supplies might turn up.
Saddled with two packs a few weapons slung over his shoulders, Joshua made for the cliff. A few rocks tumbled down, nothing worrisome. He felt a tingling at the base of his neck. The hairs had pricked up and something familiar sent his head spiraling. Joshua glanced up.
“Drop your weapons!” a voice commanded from above. Several figures stood atop the cliff with what Joshua presumed were rifles.
People took to the streets for blocks surrounding the eatery. Chico rocked, dry heaving with all the motions of a revolution without the ideals or passions. Some held clubs or rifles imitating them, but the streets were relatively quiet. The low roar of a mob was no firefight. After a night or two held up through a passing horde, a mob just didn’t sound the same, anyway. Night would cool the nerves and invite complacency. Mobs would disperse, perhaps the best defense against the 1007th would tame themselves. Quiet streets meant the soldiers played smart. Played quiet ‘through the passing horde’.
Simon made it to district’s edge before resting. He leaned against an old apartment converted to a shop, according to the sign over the door. Across the street there was an oil lamp and a sign post. The ‘Oroville Dam’ lie further ahead. Much further. He had no reason travel there, and no energy to manage it anyway. Rumour had it Chico was the product of a few havens, hence the expansive size, but that thing seemed a curse. The community within Evergreen kept to one space, big enough to breath, small enough to stay connected. Even then, under pressure the borders collapsed. Reinforcements came too late, if called at all. Simon studied the sign post against. Marysville, Oroville, Chico, Orland, and the miles between them. All the miles to just assume safe.
When his strength returned, Simon made his way back toward the center of Chico. The walk gave him time think and to plan. Chico deserved a warning. He needed his health, which meant rest, regular nourishment, and some pot if he could fit it. One night before the world changed again. If this went sideways like Evergreen, shot nerves and weak body wouldn’t do.
By the time he arrived to the eatery the mobs had either moved elsewhere or dispersed. Simon flipped his collar up to hide his face and sunk into the steps leading to the eatery. That Cajun, the not-slaver, he was attached, like he owed Simon something. Chances were the two would come searching. If not, he hoped the barkeep was generous.
I'll have a post up tonight. Thanks for fire under our butts Zombie!
@Espatier: The character is fine, but the weapons and gear is, frankly, outrageous. The fact this character is 46 yet is basically in ideal condition is also a lot to swallow. I recommend you check out the CSs in the OP. Please submit again im the narrative format, and I'll be happy to work with you from that point to make your character more realistic. Apologies for the short message, typing on a mobile is definitely not my ideal.
@Espatier: The character is fine, but the weapons and gear is, frankly, outrageous. The fact this character is 46 yet is basically in ideal condition is also a lot to swallow. I recommend you check out the CSs in the OP. Please submit again im the narrative format, and I'll be happy to work with you from that point to make your character more realistic. Apologies for the short message, typing on a mobile is definitely not my ideal.
When do you expect to launch? 
... Get it? Space humour?
But really, I'll throw in my interest. I would likely go toward the Chief Communications Officer.
... Get it? Space humour? But really, I'll throw in my interest. I would likely go toward the Chief Communications Officer.
So that's 5 of us. Not a bad number, then. I just heard from an interested player as well, so, let's get this back into activity.
Right now I know Fallen, Zombie, and I have characters in Chico.
FF and I have characters in Mackinac.
And Firecracker is yet placed, as is the member currently applying.
I would suggest we all start chatting up in here and making sure we are connected and in touch. I'll get back into the mind of steering this since Aweena has been pulled away.
@FireCracker: Can you make the Narrative CS everyone created (visible in OP)? Feel free to pop in with Trake, just make sure you're on the up-and-up with everything. Perhaps later we can do a nice intertwined story, since Trake & Simon still haven't interacted... but for now, let's just get it all rolling!
Right now I know Fallen, Zombie, and I have characters in Chico.
FF and I have characters in Mackinac.
And Firecracker is yet placed, as is the member currently applying.
I would suggest we all start chatting up in here and making sure we are connected and in touch. I'll get back into the mind of steering this since Aweena has been pulled away.
@FireCracker: Can you make the Narrative CS everyone created (visible in OP)? Feel free to pop in with Trake, just make sure you're on the up-and-up with everything. Perhaps later we can do a nice intertwined story, since Trake & Simon still haven't interacted... but for now, let's just get it all rolling!
In
Those that Remain - Post-Apocalyptic Earth Invaded (Community Revived)
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11 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Guamá is coming, just wait. I'll be in a village south of Rockhelm and may bring my character north to see what's happening there. I'll probably have it timed that he arrives shortly before all of you considering his proximity already. How's that sound?
mdk said
This is the part where I say "Let's see some."EDIT: Well, besides Westboro I guess, because we all hate them. But for whatever reason (maybe cuz the dude's dead now) I wasn't really thinking of them, so I'll give you one.
Separation of Church and State can arise in more than just the blatant declaration of a nation following a deity, it can also be reflected in making major decisions largely due to ties to a faith-community. These two things are not necessarily the same, and may look very different. A political leader can be a part of a faith without allowing their personal beliefs to be the major force behind a decision. Said leader could also push harder for certain areas simply because they subscribe to a certain faith. While everyone may have their own personal motivations, for an elected official, ideally, they should be working with the needs of the people first. If the people declare their concerns and the leader's faith blocks them from validating and moving on those, Church and State are clearly not separated.
That all said, didn't Vice just do an episode a week or two ago about a major Christian organization pumping tens of millions of dollars to support Israel obtaining the land that's currently Pakistan? Much of that goes toward lobbying and pushing the US Government to support their ideals, and so far isn't really losing. So say money from religious groups leads a nation to make certain decisions. Is that really Separation of Church and State? Is that not an example of a group, obviously significant considering they put more money than actual Jewish organizations toward this cause, guiding a government to make decisions based on religious ideals above all else?
I guess my real point here is that money fuels many votes. Some might like to think the US Government is growing all the more secular, but I'd say that as long as our government's decisions correlates to the will of those forking over the money, that's probably not the case. America is a country of convenience with a majority of its population identifying as Christian. Many may not be active in the faith, some may praise with intense passion, but a good chunk shows its belief through money. We're not talking about a poor minority that has suffered under the boot-heel of the US. I mean, seriously, we're talking about a massively rich faith-community that had direct impact on the laws of the land and the established status-quo.
Kings is a only a season, but pretty good. Same with Jekyll. Hannibal deserves all our mentions, it's a glorious shows with disturbingly well thought out production design. Guards is a sort of Irish mystery thing, pretty good, and the episodes are all movie length. And yeah... I'd say my favourite show to recommend must be the anime Monster. It's one of those that uses a more realistic art style and the story is unlike anything I've seen thus far.
Voltaire and I are slated to begin a post soon, so you can expect that on the horizon.
Honestly, I wouldn't even just mind hearing roleplayers reading their own their posts. It doesn't bother me if someone who sounds more or less masculine reads the lines for some macho brute, nor any other variation, but I do find value in hearing how the author works with the words verbally. I think some of us taste the words as we write them and like them to fit together like ingredients in a meal. If there was a roleplay where each writer was suggested to attach an audio file of their reading, I'd go for that in a tick.
Here's a tangent too. I support anything that expands how we tell our stories. Drawing out characters and scenes, speaking out your post, obviously writing it, all of these are imaginative ways to bring the world to life. The more media to do with your story, the more likely you will tap into that something that really resonates with people. I think it gives everyone an opportunity to invest in that narrative, so hell yeah, I'd say push forward!
Here's a tangent too. I support anything that expands how we tell our stories. Drawing out characters and scenes, speaking out your post, obviously writing it, all of these are imaginative ways to bring the world to life. The more media to do with your story, the more likely you will tap into that something that really resonates with people. I think it gives everyone an opportunity to invest in that narrative, so hell yeah, I'd say push forward!
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