Force and Fury

Darkwater: City of Intrigue and Adventure

Colour me interested.

Oh My Gods- Always Accepting

Hephaestus offspring incoming. Should I PM you my CS or post it in the OOC?

Through the Portal

Things have gone quiet, eerily so. No crickets, no bullfrogs, no owls - nothing. You don't realize what a role they play in making the night until they're missing from it.

Rintor sits on a small, rocky promontory. Above is a blanket of stars in constellations that he does not know. In the near distance is a flickering bonfire with a group of people gathered around it. The sounds of soft music and of their conversation drift up towards him, but he is not much concerned with that. There are good people here, and others who care only for themselves, who will poison this bold experiment more surely than hemlock. Of that he is certain. Of the fact that he will not leave this world, he is equally certain.

Rintor begins walking. The threads are harder to find by night, but it is so much easier to massage them into the shapes that he needs. The travelers and all of their tumult fade away with the passing of each step. Rintor Otorik grabs a hold of the light and disappears.

End + Sleep

@Oddsbod

Well, life is a thing, you've got a lot of backlog to get through, and I wrote a novel. Any thoughts that you have on my character and some of the ideas that I had for her would be appreciated, though not necessary. You've got enough to do, and I'd love to jump into this world.

Talk to you soon, hopefully!

Absolom

Jacques realizes that running indefinitely is stupid. He just needs to put enough distance between the group that's pursuing him and whatever support they might have. He has run through and hidden in Canadian Shield wilderness more times than he cares to count. His footing is sure. He can handle the terrain. These animals still know it better than he does.

Once he's far enough away, Jacques waits until he spots a branch thick and low enough ahead. He slows down just the slightest bit. Then the branch is there. He pushes it forward and flings it back with as much force as he can manage, right in the face of one of his pursuers. Manger de la merde! Then he dives to the side, where another shadowy figure emerges from the trees. He lashes out with a sweeping kick, eager to take the attacker's legs out from under him.

Deadland Wasteland: //START Recruitment.exe [OPEN - APPLY]

So, I tried to create some creatures for the setting that the twins might observe. They also engage in some surprisingly lighthearted banter and decide to name the things. If the freaks I've come up with are a bit much, I can easily edit them out into more 'normal' things. Conversely, if you like any of them, feel free to flesh them out more, have them appear again, or use their names.

Also, I kind of included a loose invitation to dialogue at the end of my post. Sorry for taking so long.

Deadland Wasteland: //START Recruitment.exe [OPEN - APPLY]

Were it not for the impending sense of doom, there would be something almost peaceful about their surroundings. Of that, the twins are in complete agreement. The Earth of today is nothing like the Earth of six months ago. It's a landscape from any number of sci-fi series: wild, alien, magnificent, and not a bit threatening. As they gaze through the steel lattice of the protective cage, all manner of aberrations cross their fields of vision. The convoy hesitates for something that looks like a prehistoric Glyptodont, but easily three times the size, with a set of bullish blue horns and a long, prehensile tail ending in a scaly green bulge that resembles a snake's head. The unsettling appendage curls and uncurls sinuously, poking and slinking around in a startlingly sentient way.

A handful of minutes later, the forest erupts in motion as a massive swarm of tiny, monkey-like creatures moves through it. Their backs bristle with translucent quills in a poisonous orange, yellow, and green. Thousands of sharp black beaks lined with needle-like teeth let loose whoops and eerily trilling chirps in equal measure. Whole sections of the forest seem to shift and change colours as waves of the odd creatures, covered in iridescent feathers ranging from a deep turquoise, through navy blue, indigo, and deep purple, to an unsettling maroon move through the area. A handful, Amanda notices, are larger and bright orange, with tufts of yellow feathers or fur around their necks. Alphas, she thinks.

They avoid the thick, fleshy creature that slithers its way through the tangle just above the forest floor. It's like a cross between a stubby snake and a snail, but with thick, army green, claylike skin that would seem to be more at home on a hippopotamus. Its head is ensconced in thick bony armour with the exception of a pair of luscious, rubbery greyish-pink lips that seem to be constantly sucking at the air around them. Dozens of tiny, squishy appendages that resemble the 'feet' that cover the underside of a starfish writhe on its back, emitting occasional puffs of something steamlike and incredibly foul-smelling. Both twins plug their noses until it passes.

Finally, there are these weird, treelike...things that always grow in pairs. They look like two enormous, moss-covered (though it's obviously not moss) tree trunks that tower over three stories high, pockmarked at random by fluffy red spots that seem to have some sort of fleshy eye or mouth at their centers. But it's what lies between them that's truly unsettling: A creature that is little more than a torso that trails off into a short, scaly tail. Covered in green and black fur, with long, humanlike arms that stretch between the two trunks, it thrashes and wails out of a great fang-lined maw that irises open from an eyeless, misshapen head. The 'arms' seem to be fused with the trunks as if they're part of the same organism, and the towering green stacks bend and sway back and forth menacingly, though their bottoms seem fixed to the ground. They might even extend deep beneath the surface, Hannah shudders to think.

"My God," Amanda finally remarks. "These things are terrifying. You can't even call them freaks of nature. They're -"

"Yeah, that's our gig," Hannah interrupts.

Amanda regards her dimly. "They almost don't seem to be of this world."

The twins watch in silence for longer, until Amanda breaks it. "Hey sis."

"Uh huh?"

"Do you think we're the first people to see these things?"

Hannah furrows her brow and ponders for a moment. "I'd imagine not quite the first, but there can't have been many."

Nor many who lived to tell the tale. They both think it. Sometimes they share thoughts that way.

"We should name them," Amanda decides.

Hannah grins. It's a way to pass the time. "Okay, I'm game. What should we name that giant turtle-sloth-bull, snake-tailed thing?"

"A vine-tailed bulltank"

"You think there are other types of bulltanks out there?"

"Nope!" Amanda replies. "This one's just vine-tailed. Hmm...so how about those creepy monkey-bird things?"

"I thought they were kind of beautiful."

"Yeah, like in a devour you to the bone sort of way."

"Ah, that's it!" Hannah exclaims, "Piranha Monkeys!"

"I love it! And then there was the Kissing Steamsnail."

"YES!! So much yes!"

"And a wailing ape?"

Hannah purses her lips thoughtfully. "Nah..."

Amanda pretends to pout.

"How about Sampson's Pillars?"

"Going biblical?"

"This shit is pretty biblical. Like, have you ever read the Book of Revelation?"

"Only when you did..." Amanda lets that trail off. People are staring at them. Obviously, that's par for the course if you're Hannah and Amanda Sinclair, but nobody's said a word yet. Things go quiet for a bit. Two pairs of eyes observe their fantastical and forbidding surroundings.

"You know," Amanda breaks the silence, "I'm kind of glad we didn't get the turret."

"You're gonna dance all over my broken dreams," Hannah replies melodramatically.

"Nah." The self-recognized 'older sister' takes a sip of water from her bottle. She points at the lead truck through the cage. "Think about some of the crazy shit we've seen, and that position's exposed as all hell. If this were a game and not like...real life, the gunner's the first to go."

"How do you know it's not just some kind of game?" Hannah challenges.

"How do you know everything isn't a game, that there isn't some sweaty neckbeard on the other side controlling our every word and motion?"

Hannah takes a sip from her bottle as well. "That'd just be silly. There's some kind of reality out there, objective or not."

Amanda shrugs, and without even thinking, Hannah fulfills her half of the gesture.

After another hour or so, there's a break. People get out and stretch their legs. The twins don't have to be told twice. They're the first to bound out of the truck. Of course, the break isn't necessarily for leisure. A fallen building combined with some particularly thick plant growth is obstructing the convoy's passage, and people have started clearing it. Hannah and Amanda set to work with machetes and heavy workboots, crouched over the low-growing vines as they kill the pests.

Their stomach growls. "Is food a thing here?" Hannah gripes.

Amanda straightens the both of them up. "Bossman's in the truck ahead. Y'know asking beats complaining."

The others seem to have things well in hand. "Right. Yeah. Let's see what's for lunch."

The twins arrive just on time to hear Eli elucidate on their dinner to Roland. One of them is going to have to eat that for the both of them. "Not it!" they call simultaneously, each of them instantly touching their respective noses. That is not food. Hannah thinks. I'd rather eat a piranha monkey.

WaterWorld: post apocalyptic dystopian survival

Interested

Band of Bastards- WW2 Heist/Espionage RP

Posted! Simona managed to not totally wig out in her first firefight, though she's no soldier by any stretch of the imagination.

Band of Bastards- WW2 Heist/Espionage RP

Simona Ricci

Oh Dio Oh Dio! Simona tries to keep her thoughts calm. She glances at the church, less than fifty meters away. The truck is right there. Reach it and you're safe. You can do that, Simona. Of course you can. She can faintly hear soft music drifting out through the beer hall's windowpanes, but it does little to settle the nurse's nerves. It's not like she hasn't seen people being shot right in front of her before, but the last time it happened was not a banner day. I had two legs at the start of it. She waits outside the back door, pistol in hand and tucked somewhat behind her back, feet planted firmly.

She was careful to exit a bit before the others, grabbing her coat, backpack, and crutches. The latter have been left leaning against a wall nearby.

At the very moment she recognizes the tune playing inside, church bells start ringing and a lone gunshot rings out. It doesn't even have time to resonate through the crisp winter air when it's followed by further gunfire, shouts, and the sound of running feet on wooden floorboards. Coolly, Simona raises her pistol. Something really heavy opens fire inside. There are panicked words in German. The door bursts open, a Nazi staggers out, and then all of the nurse's fears, moral compunctions, and self-doubts no longer matter. She puts a bullet into his chest and then a second to be sure.

She catches a glimpse of chaos inside and quickly steps back. Her heart is beating so hard that she can hear her own pulse. A second man in an SS uniform staggers through the door, grabbing one of the posts for support. For a moment, their eyes meet. His look defeated, bitter, and scared. For the barest of moments, they beg her just like those of a hundred nameless soldiers have when they know that death is coming.

Simona shoots him in the head.

Then a snowdrift beside her explodes in a spray of powdery white. A sudden feeling of heat near her cheek causes her to flinch, and as she steps sideways to move out of the doorway, something seems to yank at her prosthetic leg and it's all that she can do to keep her balance. A handful more rounds come screaming into the empty space, and then there are rushed footsteps. This one's ready. He shot to cover his escape. Holy shit. Holy shit! The next three seconds will determine whether Simona Ricci lives or dies and she knows it, so she focuses intently on the footsteps and their closeness.

The floorboard beneath the door creaks with a higher pitch.

Without any hesitation, she pivots and fires as Friedrich, whose arm she came in on hours ago, brings his gun around. Her first shot takes him in the gut and he falls to the ground writhing and screaming. Simona's pretty sure that she didn't do either when she was shot. His eyes bug out and he tries to raise his weapon. Part of her tries to panic. He's not dead. He's gonna shoot! She fires at his head and there's a spray of sticky wet crimson. It takes her a moment to realize that she missed. Neck, instead. She supposes it was good enough. Her hands are shaking.

Simona tears her eyes away from Friedrich, still on the ground with his throat blown open. There may be others. But then she hears Robert's voice: "Okay. Job's a good 'un. Let's get to the lorry and as they say in Hackney, rightfully fuck off, shall we."

The nurse doesn't know what a Hackney is, and Robert's accent is thick enough that understanding him is tough, but she got 'lorry', and that's good enough. Besides, they're already heading for the door. She tucks her pistol away, shoulders her bag, and grabs her crutches. Immediately, she can feel that something's wrong. Legnoso's janky. Ahhhh CAZZO! That yank from earlier. It must've taken a bullet. God, I must look ridiculous running on crutches with this huge backpack. She knows that she should ask about wounds, but speaking English requires thinking and she doesn't think well when she's halfway to complete panic. Finally, once she's moving at a decent pace and and the Opel's getting comfortingly close, she manages to say something. "Ahhh, you needa sew uppa we do in za truck. You tella me zen, Okay?"