Darcs

The Last City

Seems like my character is the black sheep out of this ha ha. But I like the post too, I will try and get something up before I go to work tomorrow.

[@Color_Weaver]

I think your character might be the only virgin in the whole city.

Greetings from Puerto Libre!!

JEEZ. I didn't think I'd be THAT swamped for time. If this RP is dead, no one say anything! (I'm loving all the new changes, though)

Paradise

WHAT?! I should probably put your stuff back then...

@chukklehed

NOT EVEN ONE MONTH I'M GONE AND PEOPLE START TAKING MY STUFF. NO RESPECT I TELLS YA

The Walking Dead: Among the Ruined// Spin-Off

Ada Cinet - 5 minutes out from Boerne, Some rich German guy's house - Clayton Burrows Who the hell was Frederick von Westphalen? Ada had slept like a baby, not in the metaphorical way, where one slept completely silently and without issue, but in a way closer to reality in regards to babies, where she woke every other hour with a fright. Either to fight some imaginary sicko she heard in the creaky house, or in fear of the fact that she was sleeping in a house with man she knew nothing about. Clayton seemed like a decent person, he had kept his promise to her, gotten her out of Bandera after she had gotten them both out of the horde and he was frank about his lack of any desire to take advantage of her-- still, she had fallen asleep without taking any real precautions. Her lack of sleep had influenced her the night before, but she knew it was mostly because of an instinctive desire to trust. Regardless. She was up for good now, she couldn't have gotten more than 4 hours of sleep, even less REM sleep, but still, she felt refreshed just to have new clothes and a night in an actual bed. She had changed out of her gore covered garb a bit after the two had secured the place for the night. Whomever Frederick von Westphalen was, he had a wife. Or perhaps just a girlfriend? A daughter who for some reason kept clothes in his room? A penchant for cross-dressing, maybe? Whatever it was, she was thankful for their presence in his drawers. The house didn't appear looted at all, apparently Boerne-- and Bandera-- perhaps Texas as a whole, weren't exactly overflowing with survivors. It was a double edged sword for Ada, part of her stubbornly wanted to keep away from others, another part though... after spending the night with someone decent like Clayton... perhaps longed for the companionship she hadn't had before all this began. Either way, the lack of looting gave her a better selection of what she got to wear. Black skinny jeans, brown blouse... they were big on her, but not uncomfortably so-- and darker clothes were much preferable over the attention drawing bright clothes that Mr. von Westphalen had seemed to prefer for himself. Besides, belts were good, anything leather was good, leather could withstand a bite or two, and it was getting colder. Who the hell was Frederick von Westphalen? Ada had been awake for at least 30 minutes now, staring at the ceiling of the dimly lit foreign mansion, recounting her night, how she had gotten here, what she was wearing, the mysterious older man she had met, and... thinking of that question. Who. The. HELL. Was. Frederick von Westphalen??? Ada could think of several answers, the most prevalent among them being, 'Someone who is probably dead now.' That didn't satisfy her, though. What was a wealthy German doing in bumfuck Texas? Was he alive? What did he do before all this began? Was he a good person? Why do you care? She didn't know. She had guesses; that she was using her curiosity towards minutiae like this as a distraction from reality, that by thinking of people like this, they didn't die in vain, that her own isolation had begun to wear at her sanity, and she had developed neurotic thinking patterns. But she didn't really know, just like she couldn't ever really know who Frederick von Westphalen was-- not unless she left the bed at the very least. Maybe she was just curious? She fished out the driver's license she had found the night before, staring into the faded image of Frederick von Westphalen. He didn't even look German, he just looked like some redneck-- also who leaves their driver's license on their night stand? Was this even his house? She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head before the staring contest she was doomed to lose ended in a yawn. She wiped the sleep out of her eyes as the pale blue light of early dawn began to touch her face. With a grunt, she rolled herself out of bed. A chill shot its way up her spine as her bare feet touched the cold wooden floor of the bedroom. Her legs still felt sore, but the only soreness one felt after an intense workout, it wasn't painful to stand like it was when she had passed out the night before. Mr. von Westphalen had a gorgeous selection of boots to chose from, but Ada had ultimately opted to stick with her reliable converse. Less noise was better, sickos never went directly for the feet anyway. She did find herself taking from the selection of new socks, however. As she crouched in front of his sock drawer, putting on her shoes, with the added comfort of new silk socks, her mind when back to the question of his identity. She couldn't find a leather coat in his room, so she made her way to his bathroom. His room was sparsely decorated, but the few pictures he did have seemed to show him-- Mr. von Westphalen, the man in the picture on the license-- with other people, mostly women (girlfriends? Coworkers? Family?) and a select few rotund, hairy, and very serious looking men. They were very stereotypically German looking. The house didn't have it's own water-- but he had enough in reserve to help with basic hygiene. No point to it, really, she'd probably end up covering herself in sick intestines before day's end, but it helped her feel better about herself. Despite her curiosity, she found herself only passively looking for clues to the man's identity, perhaps out of respect for the well preserved house. Still, on top of the toilet she found a book titled 'Mainzer Adelsverein at Biebrich am Rhein' and Ada found herself trying to make sense of the foreign tongue and she made her way downstairs. A few pages seemed to be bookmarked, with highlights and notes thankfully in English. Most of the pages seemed to be in regards to something called the 'Adelsverein' and notes that talked about a revival of whatever that was. Ada couldn't make sense of most of it, however, an article did seem to imply Mr. von Westphalen was, through his Great-Great-Great-Grandfather, the Great-Great-Great-Nephew-in-law of Karl Marx. Which was certainly... something? Ada let out a yawn as she reached the bottom of the stairs and placed the book on a table next to the door. Sleep only did so much, she was still fatigued, she needed to eat soon. From the bottom of the stairs she looked towards the kitchen, and in it's direction, Clayton, the other man of mystery in this house. He had fallen asleep at the extravagant glass dining room table, apparently having stayed up much later than her to keep watch out of the several windows on the lower level of the house. Ada gently walked over to him, not wanting to wake him. He slept in a way that anyone from a distance wouldn't even think he was sleeping, he wasn't even slightly hunched over. She recalled the night before, they had both been disappointed to learn that, despite an excessive lifestyle, rich people tended to keep their kitchens stocked with fresh... generally perishable foods. They were going to part ways soon. Unzipping her bag, Ada began gently placing a few of the cans she had gotten from the trailer yesterday near Clayton's sleeping form. Ripping a blank page out of the Mainzer Adelsverein at Biebrich am Rhein book, she wrote a note to him.

Ada's note

Hey, so, Clayton (I am spelling that right? Right? I mean it's not a hard name but I hate fucking up on stuff like that) anyway I left you a few extra cans of food I had on me, figured it was the least I could do for a payment of sorts, you got us out of there in record time after all (even though it was totes your fault they swarmed, I'm not mad or anything, though, it was actually just a nice reminder to see other people see other GOOD people actually... you know, living, despite me having first greeted you at gunpoint, I feel like I should apologize for that, but you know how it goes) wow, that got off the rails fast anyway, we've known each other all of what? 12 hours? IF you count time spent asleep. So it's not going to be much of a tearful goodbye and more of a 'I hope you don't die' type thing. You seem like a good person, even if you have the whole 'lone wolf' thing going on, I hope I see you alive again anyway, hope you enjoy 7 cans of corn, beans and peaches! -- Ada

Hoisting her bag back over her shoulder, Ada closed the door to the house gently behind her. As she began to walk, she got out her mp3 to play for her some faint and faded music. Behind her was Clayton and the Westphalen house, mysteries that would remain unsolved, ahead of her lay a cracked street, a cool Texan morning and a towering hospital, ripe for the picking. Despite the size differences of the other clothes, her new leather jacket felt fitted to her small form, and her looted pistol fit right between the belt and jeans. As her eyes darted across the street, for any movement that could threaten her, she couldn't help but feel a bit rejuvenated as she began walking in tune with the beat.

Paradise

Not dead.

Paradise

Marinette had wandered off on her own. Not terribly far, she wasn't lost, but she had wandered off into hostile territory. The others hadn't needed her for leveling, Mari had been something of a solo grinder anyway, that, and Catty seemed upset by her presence, so that had tipped the scales for her in favor of leaving-- for a while at least. The other group had that Cherry girl-- who probably didn't want to be around her, not for a while at least-- besides, the only people outside who talked to Ness would be to busy freaking out to talk to on the phone anyway. So Mari was alone. That was unnerving, or more, the idea that an unexpected encounter gone wrong could result in death annoyed her, even made her, and Ness, feel a little fear. But only a little. Not nearly as much as it should have. She still wanted to fight dragons, despite the risk, she still just wanted to play the game and do impressive things in it. Was it apathy? Depression? Over-confidence? Perhaps she... he.. they were completely living in the moment? Perhaps Ness truly did lack ambition in the real world, and found more satisfaction living as Marinette? Maybe even death made it more real... the risk? Or maybe just the idea that the avatar now possessed a mortality completely and absolutely linked to his own... Fuck. Marinette shook the thoughts out of her head as she walked through the forest. Bandits. She was looking for bandits, Prince had mentioned bandits in the area-- they'd be easy EXP and easy money, which could buy better weapons, better items. Items could be game breaking if you were smart with them, even at low levels like her own, 99 cheap lvl.1 low yield bombs was still 99 bombs. 99 bombs you could deploy all at once... ...Or at least... in rapid succession? Truth be told, Marinette had no idea how mass item usage like that worked. Still, she marched onward, her skill in stealth minimizing the crunch her boots made against the virtual leaves. She turned on her music, if only to drown out her... mostly his, thoughts with organized noise. Thankfully it wouldn't give away her position, unlike real music, the noise was only present in her own perception-- usually. She heard a crunch of leaves ahead of her and stopped, instantly ducking behind the nearest tree. She glanced ahead, spying the low leveled bandits milling about near their spawn point. Beyond them was a cave, the two bandits were guarding it, and there were probably a few more inside. She couldn't help but take a second to admire the AI of the game. Equipping her crossbow, she approached the two bandits. She knew she couldn't reload the crossbow fast enough to get them both, but if she could get close enough to the one she wasn't going to shoot... She fired the bolt. Perhaps it wasn't as fast as Hazard's bullets, but the lack of noise more than made up for it. The bolt soared through the air and tore into the low leveled enemies' throat, causing his form to disintegrate almost instantly, dropping only his meager loot. Christ, sneak attacks are broken... Still, Marinette couldn't complain if it was to her advantage. Dropping the crossbow and unsheathing her poisoned dagger, she summoned all her speed and rushed the confused and alerted bandit from behind before he could investigate and look for her. In a swift motion, she brought the dagger to the bandit's throat and cut, the figure collapsed in the grass, clutching at his throat before disintegrating. Marinette scoffed. Her time was down. She crouched from her closer vantage point to the inside of the cave, it was always interesting to see if you could get the stealth bonuses on everyone in one of these situations...

The Last City

Tor and Delphi might get along, if only for a mutual love of amassing absurd amounts of wealth. She'll probably relentlessly hit on Thales.

The Walking Dead: Among the Ruined// Spin-Off

Can we have a roll call? Also: tl;dr-- Ada wonders around the house obsessing over who it's own is, learns about the history of Texas and Germany, cleans up because it makes her feel human and gets some new clothes, leaves Clayton some cans of food since the kitchen was a bust (along with a heartfelt note), and starts walking in the general direction of the hospital with a new found pep in her step despite being mostly tired and hungry. Also the groovy IDM vapor jam is Neo Cali by Vektroid Of course all of that's on the Youtube page, so there's no reason for me to tell you that. I think I'm just tired. How is everyone?

The Last City

Delphi

Name: Delphi Aledove Sex: Female Age: 26 Role: Day Master Personality: Delphi is shrewd and sneaky, with the one thing she truly believes in being the power of gold. She believes that all problems and conflicts can be solved through gold, either directly or indirectly, and if a person can't be bought, they can certainly be rented. In the eyes of Delphi, it doesn't matter how you came across the gold, be it through a hard days of work or quick mugging, you owe it to yourself and the concept of the free market to use that gold as a tool to further yourself in society. Delphi fit right in as Day Master of the rouges guild, striking the right deals out of the watchful eye of the Magnificent One-- striking the right deals under His watchful eye, buying and selling outside of the law, bribes, funneling gold, smuggling, the management of brothels, and knowing when to hire the right muscle for when things get tight-- it all came naturally to Delphi. Her character was built in observing the transactions of whores and their clients, the filthy backroom deals, and the manipulation you could get away with in broad daylight for the right price. She has become the type of person who genuinely sees most human life as beneath the money they can earn her or what she can pay them to do, and all of her actions reflect this. Delphi is calculating, but to a fault, and revels in the excess and and power that the path she has taken in life has led her to. For all that she can get done with gold coins and credit, she suffers a weakness in her desire for material wealth. Simply put, she doesn't appear to have an altruistic bone in her body. She has come to view money as more than a human bartering tool, but as a god in it's own right, this has led to her mere presence giving off an aura of avarice. Delphi is assured in her abilities, to the degree of a megalomaniac. The law, in her eyes, is something she isn't just above, but separated from completely. She believes that as long as you think, think of contingencies and back-up plans and all possible variables, and of course with enough gold, you can simply ignore the law altogether. She's young and cocky, with the excessive money and power her role grants her and while occasionally reckless due to overestimation of what loyalties can be bought, however she isn't stupid, and her desire for self-preservation generally overrides her own tremendous greed. History: Delphi was born into the world as the bastard daughter of an underaged whore with a father from the upper class. Lacking a formal education, Delphi learned from experience granted to her as a ward of the brothel, her mother worked herself halfway to death to make enough gold to keep Delphi out of the hands of those who would like to see the young girl turned to prostitution, and so young Delphi scarcely spent time with the woman who had effectively saved her life. The day she could hold a broom, Delphi was working. The skills she gained, however, were not those of a maid, but more akin to those of a spy, or a thief, she learned to stay quiet as she made her rounds, to keep the secrets one could learn from what a man, or woman, would say when they thought they were alone with a whore to herself, to hide coins strewn about when clothes were torn off in places they would clink. Soon after this, she learned giving the right information to the right people could earn her even more gold, more than this though, it could improve her standing in the world. She was enlisted as the apprentice of the brothel owner when she proved her skill to him, she found she could fudge numbers on the books to line her own pockets if she was smart about it. When she was 14, Delphi had begun playing the game of earning her own money as she slowly started to take the duties of brothel owner from the true owner. At 16, Delphi was making more than the owner of the brothel, and she was able to pay for all of her mother's expenses, effectively allowing the woman to retire. By 18, Delphi was able to take complete control of the brothel after being named it's successor and having him killed in quiet. And at the age of 20, she had the attention of the old Day Master, a frequent regular of the brothel. Under his tutelage, Delphi expanded her influence not only to the brothels of the city, but any place even slightly outside of the view of the Magnificent One's spies, illicit gambling locations, pubs, even general product stores and black smiths found themselves paying the Rouge's Guild with Delphi under the Day Master's direction. It was only natural then, that a few years ago, when the aging Day Master died of a mysterious sexual disease after visiting one of Delphi's brothels, that it was her to take now emptied position. Weapon of choice: Javelin Spear, typically left in a case and viewed as something more of a work of art than a practical weapon. She also possesses a very foreign looking curved, jewel encrusted dagger which also has more aesthetic value than practical value and has razors sewn into the sleeves of most of her clothes, allowing her to cut with swift striking motions if the need arises.