Force and Fury

Left Behind: Mulberry Street

T H E S P A R L I N G S : G R O U P P L A Y T H R O U G H

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W I N N I E S P A R L I N G

_{Location: Balcony, Sparling Home}

Timeframe Late Evening

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_{Interaction(s): Lila, Jason}

Previously: N/A

There was a lot that Winnie had wanted to say, but she'd held herself back, lest the grownups in the room decided that she was, after all, a dear small child and not fit for the responsibility of keeping watch that she had so desperately desired. Their plan was... stupid. Everyone knew that you needed to start by raiding all the local stores and restaurants for food. Instead, they'd spent the whole week putting up strings of little bells and other jingly things all around the property and clearing their backyard of grass. They'd commandeered her to help plant the seeds Nonna Lucia had given them last year when she'd encouraged them to start a garden.

"We should be taking the car to one of the big towns and grabbing everything we can," she grumbled, and Lila twisted to glance up at her. It was almost 10:00 PM, and things were winding down. The lights of the Sparling home still blazed into the night. A gentle breeze still whispered through the trees and stirred the hundred bells and other bits of junk the older of the sisters had been putting up for the past few days. "You're not wrong, Win-win," she admitted, "But you're not right either."

Winnie scowled. "How is it a bad idea?" she demanded, finding herself a bit more genuinely annoyed than she should've been. "And if you tell me it's dANgEroUs one more time I'm gonna scream."

Lila blinked. "Well, then get your lungs ready, Lightning Bug, 'cause it is."

Winnie visibly rolled her eyes and Lila let out a sigh. One of the older two had started calling her that about six years ago - they disputed who should lay claim to the honour - and they had never stopped. "And no, it's not because there are... zombies."

"Yeah, I know. People are awful."

"Sorry." The elder sister shrugged awkwardly, and Winnie found her thoughts turning to The Last of Us - a game she'd played not a month ago after bingeing the whole HBO series when Jason had ditched her. They were supposed to have watched it together. "You really think it's gonna be like that?" Something tight and electric began to inflate at the top of her stomach and Lila looked over. She nodded. "Better if everyone on our street can stick together: more like Jackson, maybe." She swept some hair from her face.

"You watched it too?" the younger sister exclaimed with a start.

Lila rolled her eyes this time and it was Winnie who felt evaluated. "No. I just roll around all day playing violin and doing boring adult stuff."

"Sorry," the girl replied, letting out a little snort and smiling faintly. "Played the game too," her sister grumbled, but Winnie's hands clenched and unclenched, nails digging into their palms. This was real. It wasn't supposed to be possible. It wasn't supposed to actually happen, but it had. She could feel her heartbeat behind her ears. She looked out across town from the balcony. A week ago, she'd been going to school. Everything had been normal. Now, there were things out there that wanted to kill her: that would - that might kill Lila. Desperately, the preteen looked over at Lila, and the older of the two immediately released the brakes on her wheelchair and turned. A couple of gentle pushes brought her to Winnie, and her knees slid under and behind the girl's. A pair of strong arms did the rest.

"I don't need -"

"Shush, Buggie." She was on Lila's lap now, like some kid, and her big sister's arms were around her, their puffy jackets wheezing softly as they deflated in the embrace. "I love you, okay?"

Winnie didn't say anything, but she wrapped her arms around Lila's a little tighter and managed a slight nod.

"Don't worry," the older one joked, "I'm not mom. You don't need to say it back."

"Mhm."

"I won't shame you." There was a brief pause and Winnie wondered if, in fact, she was being shamed. "I won't guilt you..."

"Fffff. Shut up." She let out a sniff of laughter and glanced over her shoulder at a smiling Lila.

"Shut down," Lila pouted, and Winnie grinned.

She felt embarrassed just thinking it, but Winnie decided that she should tell Lila that she loved her, because she did, and there was danger, but then there was a noise behind them and they separated immediately, both whirling on the spot.

It was only Jason, coming onto the balcony to relieve Winnie for his turn on watch. "No group hug?" he taunted, and the girl grimaced. "Not for you," she managed to tease.

"So mean, Winster." Unbidden, he ruffled her hair, and she swatted at his arm. "I'm heartbroken." He turned to Lila. "You know she still holds it against me for not watching The Last of Us with her?"

The youngest of the three was about to say something, but her sister preempted her. "Well, we all get to watch it together now."

"Group playthrough?" Jason suggested darkly. The other two made appreciative faces. Then, silence began to fill the gaps between them and Winnie decided to put an end to it. Feeling unusually sentimental, she reached down and hugged - first - Lila, before reaching up to hug Jason. She separated and headed for the sliding door. She paused with it half open. "I..._loveyouguys," she said quickly, glancing back at her older siblings before slipping inside and stalking off to bed.

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J A S O N S P A R L I N G

_{Location: Balcony, Sparling Home}

Timeframe Night

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_{Interaction(s): Lila}

Previously: N/A

"Never thought I'd see the day," remarked Jason.

Lila snorted. "She's that scared."

His eyes flicked her way concernedly and she caught them with hers. It was still a bit surreal, having Lila around again like this. For three years, she'd been little more than a Christmas and Easter relation: his big sis, his partner in crime, the person who'd always finished his sentences. She'd run away to New York and he was under no illusions that it was going to be a permanent thing, but now they'd spend the apocalypse together. "Heard anything from dad?" he asked, trying to shift into neutral.

Lila nodded, retrieving her iPhone from between her legs. "We talked for about twenty minutes. You?"

Jason nodded. "Same. He tell you anything? He never tells me anything."

Her gaze was evaluative, for a moment, and he wondered why. Then, she shrugged. "Just that he's still in Boston and it's hard to keep a consistent charge there, much less get a signal." Absently, she passed her phone from hand to hand. "We shouldn't come to him. It's bad outside the Quarantine and they're not letting anyone in. He'll come to us. It could take a few months." She glanced up, pulling a few strands of hair from her eyes as the wind stirred them. "That kinda stuff, and then some reminiscing. You know."

"He'll be okay." Jason wasn't sure why he said it. Maybe he really believed it. Maybe he just wanted to reassure Lila. If their dad couldn't make it back, then he'd go retrieve him. You just had to be smart with these kinds of things, and prepared. Everyone was working hard. They were setting themselves up well - the whole street in their own ways - especially now they were actually listening to him.

Lila sighed, reaching down to lock her wheels again. She met his eyes for a brief second, evaluative once more. "I dunno. God, I hope so." She shook her head and he noticed her fumble her phone, missing a grab with her left hand. She let it sink between her thighs. "It's just... I can hear it in his voice. I can literally feel it inside me: this fear that he won't." She swallowed. "That the phones will cut off and this could be the last time we ever speak to each other." She looked up at him and it was no secret that he was holding back tears. "Fuck, Jason..."

"Lila..." They regarded each other: grown siblings, for an eternal second before he turned away, to look out across the yard and the street and the signals they'd been rigging up. It had mostly been her. Aside from printing out, writing out, or memorizing every possible thing of even remote relevance while the internet was still up, it had been one of the few tasks she could do without help. He'd been the heavy labour, digging up the yard for planting when he hadn't been practicing with his weapons or trying to build useful things. There was no school anymore. There was no schedule except for these nightly watches now. No people except for those on Mulberry Street. At least Triple H - Holly, Hailee, and Harper - were alright, even if he wasn't equally close with each of them.

"So, how many pages you up to now?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"Everything the printer has ink for," came the reply. "Good thing mom's got an office rig for her practice. We'd have gotten a fifth of what we did otherwise."

"You looked up gun stores?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Made a map too. Made a few maps of essentials. I'm writing whatever I couldn't print while I still remember it."

Jason smiled."Couldn't ask for a better end-of-the world buddy than you, Squeaky."

Lila smiled faintly back. "Mutual, Chop-chop. Just trying to be useful anyways. Gotta do something. Set you guys up for success."

There was something that he didn't like in her tone as she concluded, and it got to him like nothing else had over the past few days. "Don't," he warned, voice going serious.

"Don't what?"

Now she was being avoidant. "You're useful, Lila. You have an eidetic memory and you're the only person in this family who's like... competent and has their shit together. Even if you weren't, it's not like I'd just be like... 'peace out and good luck'." He rolled his eyes before they flicked in her direction.

"Debatable," she sighed, releasing her brakes to roll up to the railing. She turned at a forty-five degree angle and, as her right wheel clanked lightly against it, she twisted in her seat, rested her elbows atop it, and rested her chin atop them. She turned her head his way for a second. "I know." it came out with her breath, barely audible. "I could be." Her cheek was resting on her folded arms now. "I should be." She blinked and looked at him sadly. "Brother..."

He bit his lower lip and forced himself to listen, knowing what would be said, or at least some version of it.

"Half of me doesn't work." She gave him something like a shrug. The lights inside the house were all off by now, except for Winnie's, and only the moon and the stars lit her face. "Not just my legs." She pushed herself up from the railing and stared out across their property and surroundings. "I'll be good for a few years," she admitted hopefully.

"More than -"

"But what happens when my wheelchair breaks?"

"We fix it," he assured her, or find you another, or fucking carry you if I have to."

"Come on, dude," she replied. "You're not a videogame character. I'm not a mission. Besides, how about when the catheters run out and we've cleaned out every pharmacy and hospital within a fifty-mile radius?"

He grimaced, but she continued, "Or the pill salad? What happens when I get some infection in a few years?" She regarded him, face soft and sad and merciless. "I will not have anyone die just so I can keep existing, helpless and bedridden, and I mean it."

"So you're just giving up?" Jason retorted, narrowing his eyes. "That's not very -"

"No, dumbass." She snorted defiantly at something in the distance before twisting to regard him. "I'll squeeze every ounce I can outta life. Don't worry. It's me you're talking to here."

Why was she dropping this on him? Jason didn't know. He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to because he knew, on some level, that it was true. People would die - millions already had - but not the people close to him, and not on his watch. The teenager's heart beat a little faster. That was not something he was prepared for.

"Just..." Lila exhaled and most of whatever she'd had pent up inside of her seemed to go with it. "When I go, I go, and you've gotta let it happen." She managed a weak kind of smile. "Or I'll kick you in the fuckin' nuts, alright?"

He understood, now, that the embrace between her and Winnie that his arrival had broken up had been as much for Lila as it had for little Buggie. Silently, he reached down and did the same, lifting her halfway out of her wheelchair. "You can do it anytime," he promised her. "I love you, sis."

"I love you too, bro." Her embrace was tight, and the fact that he found himself surprised by the strength of it served as a reminder of how few times they'd hugged over the past couple years. "Now, put me down, and don't you breathe a word of this to anyone, capisce?"

He nodded.

"We're all smiles in the morning. We need everyone at their best."

"We do," he agreed, letting her down. "No mopey shit." Lila took a moment to adjust her position. A thought came to Jason, then. "Group playthrough?"

His big sister grinned. "Group playthrough."

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Watch Schedule

W A T C H S C H E D U L E

Watch Kept from 7pm - 7am
Winnie: 7:00 PM - 10:00 PM
Lila: 8:30 PM - 11:30 PM
Jason: 10:00 PM - 1:00 AM
Carina: 1:00 AM - 4:00 AM
Alana: 4:00 AM - 7:00 AM

Sparling Hex Codes

S P A R L I N G H E X C O D E S

"Welcome to the voice of reason with Alana!."

"Minty fresh fish with cheese, courtesy of Devon."

"Stepford Smiling Supreme, by Lila."

"Jason has his shit together too."

"Winnie obviously knows better."

"Here comes a Karen Carina!"

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Left Behind: Mulberry Street

<Snipped quote>
I wouldn't mind talking about relations. 👌 I imagine the street [inhabitants] would have prior interactions with each other so us as a RP group should maybe spitball some stuff in general at some point.

@TGM

Would 100% be up for this.

Left Behind: Mulberry Street

The Sparling Family

T H E S P A R L I N G F A M I L Y
T H E S P A R L I N G F A M I L Y

"They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. They say..."

_{[ ❇ ] B R I E F F A M I L Y H I S T O R Y}

The Sparling name is an old one in Huddeen. Faded headstones in the town's graveyard bear testament to that. However, their line has been rather sparse over the past couple of decades as successive generations have left for the greener pastures of Boston, Providence, and New York. Then, a dozen years ago, family matriarch Hattie passed away and the old family house ended up in the hands of her granddaughter, pregnant young grad student and former wild child Alana, along with her growing family. Moving back from Boston to the town where she used to spend summers with her grandma after her parents' divorce, she brought her husband Devon, a stereotypically geeky storyboard artist, and her children Lila and Jason. While the grand old home was everything they could've hoped, vintage 1970s-era decor and some electrical issues aside, their first few years were difficult, as Devon had to switch jobs, Alana had to delay setting up her own practice when their youngest daughter Winnie was born, and Lila suffered an accident that confined her to a wheelchair and necessitated the installation of a ramp and extensive renovations. Things have calmed down since then, and the family has flourished... at least outwardly. While Devon's career has taken him to conferences across the country and Lila has gone off to the Juilliard School in New York to study violin, small-town star athlete Jason doesn't see much of a future, Winnie grows ever stranger and more introverted, and Alana continues to fray at the edges as she wears too many hats, commutes for too long every day, and juggles too many responsibilities in her desperate determination to make sure that her family won't go the way that her parents' did. Add to this the recent arrival of Devon's older sister Carina from Boston, fresh off of some serious controversy, as well as Lila back on holiday, and things are... volatile. Oh, then zombies. Zombies have happened too. Is there any way that this fraying family can pull itself together long enough to survive and maybe even be an asset? I guess we'll have to wait and see.

_{[ ❇ ] F A M I L Y M E M B E R S}

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▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ "Smiling actually does help." ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

S P A R L I N G, A L A N A || M O T H E R S P A R L I N G, A L A N A || M O T H E R _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Growing up, Alana was just about the most obnoxious possible version of a ca. 1995-2002 first-gen edgy gamer girl. She never thought she'd be a psychologist. She assumed her job would be something in a creative industry but, here she is, and there's a kind of art to patching minds back up, she supposes. She's certainly had to do more than her share of that over the course of her life. As an ex-urbanite, this mother of three commutes into Manchester for work whenever her job requires it of her. While she was born in nearby Nashua, Alana's parents broke up when she was small and she bounced around. She spent much of her later childhood and early teens in Huddeen with her grandmother before moving to Boston with her dad and becoming a child of the early internet. Luckily, her most absurd exploits were pre-social media and, just after her twenty-second birthday, she was a mother anyhow and her crazy days fast faded. After inheriting her grandmother's house a dozen years ago, she packed her young family up and moved out to Huddeen, with its lower cost of living and safer streets. Now into her early forties, Alana's weathered far more storms than she'd ever imagined and is a lot number to it all than she imagined that she'd be at this point in life. She'll often go on about how she loves this town, and is an active member of all the relevant community organizations. Embarrassed about her wild past and her husband's at-times immature behaviour, she tries as hard as she can to fit in, never quite feeling like she manages it. Secretly, her interest in her marriage is waning but, remembering her childhood, she's determined not to let it fail. You know how they say that shrinks are as much of a mess as their clients? At least she's not abusing prescriptions... yet.▅ Use as many or few of the above symbols as needed to balance this cell with the cell containing the image.

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▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ "He who sits on the highest throne still sits on his own bottom." ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

Z A N E T T I, D E V O N || F A T H E R Z A N E T T I, D E V O N || F A T H E R _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ If Alana eventually grew up, Devon never quite managed the trick. A storyboard artist and gig worker, he pursues jobs in the videogaming industry with particular gusto and has built up a fairly impressive portfolio. A proud nerd and daydreaming creative, he lives for his work and loves his family, very much in the mold of the 'cool dad'. He convinces himself that it's natural, but he works hard at it. Yet, he can also be a bit of an avoidant husband and father: enthusiastically there for the good times but absent for the more challenging ones. While he's certain it's only an unfortunate coincidence, he's beginning to understand how bad it looks and how much trouble it's causing his loved ones. Devon's never quite mastered the fine art of 'adulting', but he's trying. He's always been somewhat awkward but has grown socially and in confidence over the years and has become unused to failure. Sometimes, however, in his more anxious moments, he suffers from impostor syndrome. He constantly worries that his creative spark is leaving him and that he might end up embarrassing or holding back his family members, particularly his daughter Lila. As his career has finally started to take off in recent years, he's been seeing more of her in New York and they've grown somewhat closer. At the start of our story, Devon's trapped in Boston where he was attending a conference. He calls his family on the phone at every opportunity while they still have service. He's trying to get someone in the Boston Quarantine Zone to do something or, barring that, to make his way back, but he doesn't quite know where to begin.▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ Use as many or few of the above symbols as needed to balance this cell with the cell containing the image.

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▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ "You don't have to stand up to stand out." ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

S P A R L I N G, L I L A || O L D E S T C H I L D S P A R L I N G, L I L A || O L D E S T C H I L D _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ A surprise child and the reason that Alana and Devon are married, Lila is twenty-one as the story begins, and was visiting home from university in New York when the epidemic struck. A perfectly average, if somewhat rambunctious kid before being paralyzed from the waist down in a tree-climbing accident at the age of twelve, she was forced to reinvent herself and find new purpose. Since then, with her mother's relentless support , the oldest of the Sparling children has become the sort of inspirational story that's a magnet for bursaries, scholarships, speaking engagements, and interest pieces by local new outlets. An extremely talented violinist from an early age, she has already featured in major productions and boasts nearly a hundred thousand subscribers on her YouTube channel. Living the young, sophisticated urbanite's dream, Lila has left her small-town roots behind and flourished in New York: a young virtuoso headed for success. Yet, deep down, vicious insecurities about being a burden - about being incapable and unattractive - tear at her, and the constructed world and its many obstacles act as constant reminders that she cannot just do many of the things she would like. In truth, she is very much like her younger siblings, though they probably don't think of her as such. In her dreams, she's still a spontaneous creature, wandering the neighbourhood with Jason in tow, climbing trees and hiking in the ravine, pulling Winnie in a wagon, and playing games of tag or basketball that stretch into the night. There's a shared history with her family and she loves them, but she hasn't spent all that much time with them in years. She loves her mother, too, who pushed her hard to pick herself back up and to succeed, but there's something else there as well: resentment at stealing her away from her childhood with endless practice, rehearsal, and travel, for molding her into an 'inspiration' instead of a person. With her friends, in their little shared apartment, Lila's fun, irreverent, and vivacious, always ready with a quick quip or pithy observation. Here, at 'home', she increasingly feels like the odd one out in her family of lovable losers. Huddeen is a pleasant place full of fond memories, but indelibly part of her past, not her future.▅

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▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ "I have never let my schooling interfere with my education." ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

S P A R L I N G, J A S O N || M I D D L E C H I L D S P A R L I N G, J A S O N || M I D D L E C H I L D _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Three and a half years younger than Lila, Jason was always playing keep-up with her when they were kids: in school, where teachers went on glowingly about her; for attention, where she seemed to lap up their parents' love with her musical talent and witty remarks; and in the little pencil marks measuring height on the doorframe, where he could never quite catch her. Then, after she had her accident, he won the third of those battles definitively, and lost the others. As his parents' and, especially, his mother's attention reoriented itself toward Lila, and his playmate returned home less able to... play, the boy found other ways of entertaining himself. Where his father was a genuinely creative person, Jason merely aped and dreamed. Instead, his talents lent themselves elsewhere. A natural athlete and good with his hands, he is a mediocre student at school, but well liked by both teachers and other students, co-captaining his high school basketball team to the state's final four in his junior year. Yet, the scholarship offers from major universities haven't exactly been flooding in. He enjoys shop class, console gaming, and skateboarding more than anything else, and is just tall enough to dunk on the basketball hoop in the driveway. In between occasional games of Horse with his dad or his sisters, it takes relentless punishment while the curbs and railings in town see similar treatment from his skateboard. At the end of the day, Jason is more than a little bit edgy, with a mohawk, a couple of tattoos, and a fondness for music that would make his once-rebellious parents blush. This, he eagerly blasts out the window of his 2007 Buick, recently purchased from an estate sale for $1700. There is nothing academic that really interests Jason, but he can play shooters and zombie survival games for hours and, yes, he has a (very humble) sword collection. With little to no direction in life, a secret part of him is... weirdly kind of excited that the apocalypse is nigh. He's already constructing traps and barriers and he practices with his cheap knockoff katana in the backyard. Perhaps the dire nature of the situation just hasn't dawned on him yet, so the question is: when will it?▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ Use as many or few of the above symbols as needed to balance this cell with the cell containing the image.

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▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ "Life isn't boring if you know where to look, but I think - like - most adults lose that somewhere along the way." ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

S P A R L I N G, W I N N I E || Y O U N G E S T C H I L D S P A R L I N G, W I N N I E || Y O U N G E S T C H I L D _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Six years younger than Jason, Winnie was - like her sister - an 'accident'. Her parents hadn't intended to have a third child, but her older siblings were thrilled. At eleven years of age, she's a quiet, socially awkward, and very active girl who doodles, explores, and daydreams as much as her father ever did growing up. He'll never admit to it, but she's the child he understands most and he spoils her with new games, art supplies, and the sort of long solo father-daughter days out that Lila never had the chance to get. Lanky, gangling, and much taken with idiosyncratic fashion and scary things at a young age, Winnie is greatly enamoured with minecraft (and secretly, sacrilegiously, roblox as well). Both in-game and out, she often tags along with her older brother when he lets her and tries to recreate that sense of adventure in real life. He's become a more reluctant partner in crime lately, though, as he heads toward adulthood, and she's started playing more mature games in an attempt to keep up with the person she most admires and wants to be like (though she'll never admit it, of course). While not actively disliked or bullied at school, the youngest Sparling daughter is definitely not one of the popular girls either, and she catches some flak for spending almost as much time with the boys as she does with her assumed tribe of rambunctious pre-pubescent girls. A characteristic of both ADHD and autism, Winnie goes through intense monthly obsessions, gobbling up every bit of knowledge that she can on random subjects of interest. A cultural magpie plucking greedily from the fertile environs of tiktok, discord, reddit, wikipedia, and YouTube (where she's dutifully subscribed to her sister's channel), she is almost uncannily knowledgeable about random trivia and it is the one thing aside from minecraft that she will reliably and enthusiastically speak at length on. Out of necessity, she has now set her mind to the task of zombie apocalypse survival and relentlessly marshals her family to do the same.▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ Use as many or few of the above symbols as needed to balance this cell with the cell containing the image.

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▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ "To me, 'bossy' is not a pejorative at all. It means somebody's passionate and engaged and ambitious and doesn't mind leading." ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

Z A N E T T I, C A R I N A || P A T E R N A L A U N T Z A N E T T I, C A R I N A || P A T E R N A L A U N T _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Carina never set out to live up to her name. She never wanted to be a 'Karen' and she cringes inwardly (and outwardly, for she can do nothing with subtlety) at the thought that people might consider her one. Three failed marriages, a circle of friends as superficial as they are materialistic, and repeated run-ins with the glass ceiling pushed her to the edge. One ill-advised incident broke her. As a girl, Carina was always the favourite child, and quiet, awkward, artsy Devon ever her shadow. Popular in school, she looked out for him, she protected him, and when he was getting his start as an artist, she let him surf her couch for months on end. More than one potential boyfriend was scared away in that manner, but she never said a word about it. Carina loved her little brother. Rather, she loves her little brother, and her nieces and nephew. She just wanted a family of her own, but she fell for jerks: handsome jerks, badboys, rich jerks, and just, well...pigs. She'd seemed never to make a bad choice growing up and, even as her career advanced and she made all of the right connections, everything seemed to go wrong outside of ever-fancier job titles. The men in charge said that she was bossy, but was she really? The first time that she was passed up for a promotion, she held it in, waited, and didn't jump to any conclusions. It happened again, though, and again, and she took her story to the media. Not much happened except a couple of articles and a horizontal move to a new firm. Again, she was passed up, despite giving her all to the company and sacrificing her marriage for it. A third job and a third marriage ensued, and then came the fateful day when she'd just had too much and a Starbucks employee gave her this smug little smile as he knowingly shortchanged her on her Venti. There were cameras and they didn't pick up any of the nuance and she went viral. She was publicly released from her job. She was doxxed. She was divorced. She was canceled. Carina was even sorry at first, but not after how vicious they all got. So, she bought herself a gun for self-defence, packed up her things, sold her apartment, and moved out to Huddeen to lick her wounds once the worst of it died down. She will see if her brother is as generous with her as she was with him.

Left Behind: Mulberry Street

So, should I post over to the Char tab or is Jason just to spicy? Let me know one way or the other.

The Hourglass Order

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Out of the frying pan and into the fire. The stray thought inserted itself into Jocasta's head and she couldn't help but think it, even as she drew desperately to nearly her full capacity before Zarina stepped through and took the rest. Ayla was through moments later and using some sort of sonic spell that - surprisingly - Jocasta was not familiar with.

They were on a rocky plateau in the middle of a wide canyon, surrounded by sand on all sides and there was a creature as big as a building in their faces. The lone tethered in the group had not landed evenly. She could feel her wheelchair dangerously askew, but she had come here for precisely one reason: to get Escarra and his people out.

"Cover me!" Jocasta shouted, unable to move without using magic but already pulling on the threads of space and time to get a portal up and the rangers out. Yet, it seemed Ayla was already on the case. Whatever she had cast moments earlier seemed to have... distracted the colossal dragon.

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The sand wyrm was going to eat, and it was happy! The weather was good, its prey seemed utterly unable to harm it or at least uninterested in doing so, and it was going to eat! On some level, the wrongness of the entire situation struck the creature's simple mind, but now it was here and... it was not actually hungry. It had been frightened by the dark thing and fled, but then there had been an easy snack, and now the snack was shooting at it and... wait. Why did it want to eat these little humans again? Humans weren't even that tasty!

The enormous beast paused and regarded the pesky things stinging it with bullets and magics. They were rather appealing and colourful, actually, and it could tell that one was from the strange red stone where they rolled instead of walked. It decided that it was rather fond of them, in fact. Now, the dark thing, it definitely wasn't. That was both paradoxically delicious-looking and terrifying. Perhaps these human-creatures were also not fond of the dark thing. So, only a couple feet in front of them, the Royal Sand Wyrm tilted its head to one side and issued a friendly greeting, seeing how the tiny animals would respond. They still looked somewhat tasty...

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She was almost there. "Warden!" Jocasta called, "To me!" The wyrm was acting strangely but she didn't have the luxury of worrying too much about it unless it was attacking. Escarra and the others scrambled around the rock face, ready to dive through the moment that the portal was active. "Momento!" the warden called. "The dragon! He is -" Then, there was the flash of another portal and, from it, erupted Desmond, Tku, Fiske, Evander, and... Benedetto. The last of the group wasted no time whatsoever, ready to launch an atomic blast at the monster's face. "Eat shit, Worm! The cavalry is here!"

They had mere moments to gauge the situation and make a decision. Would it be fight or flight? Dragon breaks, dragon steaks, or how to tame your dragon?

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Action Opportunities

Welcome to our brief chapter two of Primitive: Fight or Flight. You can find some action opportunities below.
1) Anything you notice? Any interactions?

2) This is all about your decision. If we choose not to fight, things can proceed rather quickly, with a potential large boon and some information gathering. If we fight the Sand Wyrm, then we'll play that combat out and potential rewards will be disbursed if you succeed (warning that this is a very dangerous fight).

3) Either way, please coordinate over discord.

4) If we get some quick responses, this will act as a mini-chapter and I'll have an update up later this weekend.

The Hourglass Order

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Present: Yalen Castel @pantothenic, Maura Mercador @Ti, Trypano Somia @A Lowly Wretch, Ingrid Penderson @dragonpiece, Niallus Saberhagen @McKennaJ71, and Abdel Varga @YummyYummy

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They had been given assurances.

Moths and crane flies now swirled about the lanterns hanging in the courtyard and the remnants of a hearty dinner lay stacked in front of the group of students. Mr. Wei, who ran the inn, and his daughter Yin, who did much of the cooking, had simply kept bringing dishes full of food, and the students were of an age and constitution to continue eating as more arrived. The younger of the pair had already taken most of the mess away, always with a smile and some simple quip in Retanese, once she had learned that some of them understood a few words.

Captain Zhu dined with them only briefly, and he had little more than some appetizers and a drink. Xiulan explained that he was a good captain who cared about his men and he did not want to eat separately from them, especially until the four he had sent to deal with the earlier disturbance had returned safely. When Rikard inquired as to the nature of the disturbance, the group’s guide admitted to little knowledge of what it was. However, it would not be a serious problem else the Bái wèibīng (the white guard) would have been called instead, they were assured before the conversation was steered towards their preferred magics and aptitudes.

“So you are truly master of dragon?” Xiulan exclaimed, eyes widening in Abdel’s direction. She leaned in excitedly. “I love dragon!”

Yin, gathering plates, noticed her excitement. “说什么?” (said what?) she prodded and there was a quick response. “Whooooaa,” the innkeeper’s daughter replied, eyes floating Abdel’s way. “厉害!” (awesome/so cool) Xiulan giggled. “I sink I don’t have to translate this.”

Before the boy had the chance to boast, however, there was a thump on the front door and Yin scurried off to go and answer it. The four guardsmen returned and, with small waves and bows, were ushered up to the mezzanine, where Captain Zhu’s head briefly appeared out of a doorway. Bits and pieces of conversation drifted down, but then they were behind closed doors and the students and Xiulan were left to their own devices. All around them were the sounds of crickets, the soft crackle and warm glow of the outside hearth’s coals, and the lapping of water in a small pond by the garden. Fat lazy gold fish drifted along near its surface, their lips occasionally popping out in circles and little bubbles rising from them. “This is a nice place,” Blossom assured them. “Really, it is.” She yawned. “The little…” she trailed off, gesturing at the fishpond. “这个!” (this one) she sighed in some frustration. She’d had a bit to drink and her cheeks were rather rosy. She stifled a second yawn and, in one smooth motion, rose to her feet, stretched, and bowed. “I sink zat is ze sandman telling me somesing,” she admitted. “Go to sleep go to sleeeeep -”

Kaureerah picked it up, gently strumming on her guitar. “Go te sleeeeeeeep leetel Blaussem.”

“Hehe, I will, I will.” With her fingers, she playfully conducted Kaureerah like she was an orchestra. “You know, I like you have the accent like me. Make me less em…embrassed for my Avinci.” She bowed again and turned theatrically on her heel. “Goodnight! 晚安!” Then, Xiulan was headed upstairs and those who were still by the cooling heart found themselves - for the first time since they had arrived in this distant land - alone.

It may have struck them that they had received no explicit directions yet and discussions had been gently but persistently steered away from the topic of precisely what they would be doing over the next few days. They had merely been told to be ready in the lobby by 8:00 in the morning - time was measured differently in Retan - and they would be apprised of what to expect next. Everything that they needed would be found in or brought to the Golden Carp Inn. They had been given assurances.

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Some, however, believed these more than others.

So it was that Rikard Ambrus sat on the mezzanine at a time the Retanese referred to as 24:00 and watched as Wei Yin trudged across the courtyard, sweeping. She had come from the direction of the stables, where the group’s larger animals were housed. Her footsteps were heavy and she yawned a couple of times as she swept but, gradually, she worked her way across the entire space and was in the process of emerging from a small shed with some wood for the morning when there was a small noise: faint and muffled, and almost like a… scream.

Immediately, the innkeeper’s daughter, moving about in a near-stupor, perked up. She set her bundle down and hurried off in the direction of a side wing. Rikard perked up immediately. He had gotten the distinct sense that they were ever to be respectful visitors here, but there had been a scream - a person’s scream - and it would be irresponsible of him not to investigate, for safety, of course. Pulling some heat from the dying coals, he leapt over the railing and landed gently - almost noiselessly - on the floor below, finding the girl’s energy signature and following it.

The old wooden door creaked softly as he pushed through and the boy avoided using magic to light his way. That was when, up ahead, he could hear voices, speaking just above a whisper and rapidly in Retanese.

“你可以使用你的魔法。帮助他。” (You can use your magic. Help him.” It was Mr. Wei.

“不，爸爸。我不能。警察正在监视外国人。他们也会抓住我们。” (No, dad. I can’t. The police are watching the foreigners. They’ll catch us too.)

“这就是为什么我们应该现在就做！他们只会认为是那些孩子。请，女儿。勇受苦了。” (That’s why we should do it now! They’ll just think it’s those kids. Please, daughter. Yong is suffering.)

“不，爸爸！想想看！州长让我们把他们留在这里，这样他就可以派士兵跟他们一起去。他们想抓我们！” (No, dad! Think about it! The governor told us to keep them here so he could send soldiers with them. They want to get us!) Rikard didn’t understand more than maybe a word or two, and he even doubted those, but he could tell that it was urgent just by the tone of their voices.

“请银.” (Please, Yin.) There was a long pause and then the voice of a young boy. Rikard could feel a small surge of magic: Chemical magic, and Yin’s voice continued to talk to him. Then, there were footsteps on the move. The visitor’s heart hammered and a cold rush coursed through his body. Drawing some more on the Gift to muffle his footsteps and boost his body, he rushed back through the hallway, bursting through a doorway just as he heard a door creak open somewhere well behind him. “谁在那儿?” (who’s there?) came Mr. Wei’s voice, anxious and still quiet enough not to wake the others. Rikard said nothing, however. Instead, he slipped down the hallway to the lavatories and disappeared into them. “Mr. Wei?” he called tentatively.

“Ree-car?” came the innkeeper’s reply.

“I’m in the…” he tried to remember the word he’d been taught. “厕所.” (cèsuǒ - bathroom)

He knew there was more than the innkeeper wanted to say. In truth, his insides were being clawed open by anxiety, but they could not communicate and so his reckoning might be saved for tomorrow. Fuck! he shouted in his head. You just couldn’t stay out of it! You just couldn’t mind your own business! So it was that Rikard hung around in a room that smelled like poop for half an hour, trying to calm himself and hoping that people would forget. They didn’t though. There were more voices speaking Retanese and they were Mr. Wei’s and Captain Zhu’s, quiet but intense. Eventually they, too, went away, and he dashed up to bed, locked himself in his room, and failed to sleep in more than fits and starts for the rest of the night.

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It was the wee hours of the morning. A gentle rain had started and a cloaked figure slipped through the slumbering streets of Wánggǎng. More than once it seemed to pause, scan, and change course, almost as if it knew what it sought but not the way to reach it. In truth, it was not the first such figure, for there had been one similarly attired the night before and there would yet be one after it.

After a handful of missteps, it wandered its way over to a nondescript house not too far from the port district. The light of the moons peered briefly through the clouds. It sparkled off of the near-distant water, illuminating a paper nailed into the door. For a moment, the person in the cloak paused, as if perhaps reading or gathering the courage to follow through on something. Then, there was a tiny burst of magic and the simple lock mechanism popped open.

The cloaked interloper scanned the entranceway and the few simple rooms beyond, pulling back her hood once she found herself alone, to reveal the features of a fair young woman. It was all wreckage inside: the clear remnants of a violent struggle, uncleaned and uncleared for now. She had no idea if that would continue to be the case or if the people whose job it was to make messes disappear simply hadn’t gotten here yet. Quietly, on high alert the entire time, she made her way about the eerily empty home. Light spilled in long sharp lines through shuttered windows and her feet crunched softly across broken glass. Doors were busted open and furniture lay broken and scattered across the floor. Reaching out with her magic as gently as she could - for there had been not one iota of it the entire night - she searched the shapes and energies of her surroundings until she came upon a small figurine: a porcelain doll that had had its head broken open.

It was at about that moment that she felt it: someone very powerful headed her way, and quickly. She was not incapable in magic, but she was not a fighter either. She grabbed the ruined doll, flipped her hood up and, calling upon what she had of the Gift, made her escape with all due haste.

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Action Opportunities

Welcome to Chapter Two of Metropolis: Still of the Night. You can find some action opportunities below.

1) You've settled in for the night and had some dinner. Feel free to comment on the dinner, come up with some shenanigans and hijinks or, conversely, be boring. You could probably explore the inn a bit or or poke about. How far will you go? How about Xiulan? How much can you learn from her? How much should you?

2) Feel free to collab and discuss with other players or characters just what is going on. Maybe start trying to make a plan for tomorrow with the scant little information you've been given? Unpack the day's events and the people you've met? Interact with the animals or NPCs!

3) If you think that it makes sense for your character to have noticed, you may react to the scream like Rikard did, as well as any of the subsequent events. If you take action, though, you will have to roll for stealth and not being detected. There are secrets here to explore.

4) Who is the cloaked figure? What are they doing? Have you been good and stayed put? Any snooping of your own? Any conversations with Rikard. It's very early going, but pieces are moving rapidly behind the scenes.

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The Hourglass Order

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At first, Kaureerah had tried to remember the names. She had tried to connect with the people, but there were too many, there was not enough time to get to know them, and - to her great embarrassment - she could not pronounce most of them anyhow. It was all government pageantry, and she was ashamed to admit that she had checked out before long.

She'd noticed something, though, as she'd stood there waiting, and it had been cast into stark relief when Wu Long had used magic to leap atop his horse before departing: Nobody was using magic, or at least very few. It had taken some time to adjust as she'd first come to human lands - they seemed to divide class by magic use and there was just so much less among them than there was among eeaiko - but this was unusual, even by human standards. And now we have a second mystery to solve...

As Blossom and Kai led them through the streets of the ReTanese capital, Kaureerah found herself unable to maintain any sort of paranoia level and she soon succumbed to the sights and sounds of an idyllic fall evening in this strange land. She was, to be certain, an object of immense curiosity, but less of one than she'd imagined, in some ways. Many of the people living here had seen 'sea people' (Hǎi rén) before, but had never seen an Easterner. Guess who's not the only freak in the sideshow, she thought amusedly to herself. Eventually, she began to strum at her guitar when a melody took her and it was all so idyllic until...

They stopped. Then, Kai was issuing orders to his soldiers and they were rushing off in the direction of where Kaureerah was sure she'd detected some chemical and binding magic. She'd been scanning passively, partly to help her solve her earlier mystery and partly for information. There was kinetic now, as well. Kinetic because they're running. Whatever it was, it was soon out of her sensing range, and she was tempted to put up an illusion and follow. Instead, Kaureerah searched her surroundings for landmarks, noted what she could, and began forming a plan...

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The Hourglass Order

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The forests of West Kerremand were little different from those of his home region, Manfred decided. Walking along, he listened to the familiar calls of the echobirds, and the rustle of the great salamanders as they woke from their Hundrian torpor. He took Dory's hand out of habit a couple of times and made conversation. In fact, he almost let himself relax as people examined the pitcher plants, disturbed the animals, gabbed relentlessly and, most amusing of all, touched the mushrooms. Manfred shot a little side-eyed smirk Dory's way. You never touched the mushrooms around here, unless they were Perrench Food. Of course, it wasn't as if anything too severe would result, and most of those foolhardy enough to do it were yasoi... not of much use anyhow.

Things continued in this manner as the sun started to inch towards the tops of the trees, growing fat, lazy, and golden as it sunk. A different group of animals began to make itself heard now, and he recognized the chittering cries of Bat Dragons and the deep croaking calls of Coal Toads among them. Then came the distorted screech of... something, and an involuntary shiver ran down the back of Manfred's neck. Glances were exchanged within the group of nine and he counseled himself that it was just the echobirds. What had they picked up on, though!? That's what was worrisome. Nervous chuckles issued from a couple of the others. "Well," Manfred remarked, "I guess that's a good reminder of why we're here, no?" Casually, he swung his rifle from his shoulder and continued on with it in his hands, just in case...

The Hourglass Order

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& Esmii'nesta'tawaar

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The men and women were given separate rooms, of course, not that Sven expected to spend very much time in his. He’d been to Hogh Munkhelad before, but never to Hoch Dorumvir! It was all of a minute before he’d pestered Esmii into coming with him to explore.

After Sven 'asked' Esmii if she wanted to do some exploring with him, she happily agreed to his offer, since she wanted to spend some time with him too. Upon meeting up with him, she gave him a little kiss on his cheek, having to stand on her tiptoes for it. "So where do you want to go?" She smiled, taking hold of his arm.

“Well…” Sven trailed off. There were so many options, but he had one, in particular, in mind. “Maybe we could go shee shome of the animalsh? If they don’t have a menagerie, maybe the shtablesh?”

Esmii smiled at Sven’s suggestion. "That sounds like fun. As long as we are together, I dont mind where we go." She held onto his hand, "Hopefully the others will have some luck in their searches as well."

Sven did not waste anymore time, and soon the couple were headed towards the stables, taking in the city’s early evening sights along the way. The tall Eskandish boy - even taller now after another year of growth - had to duck more than once and still managed to bump into a hanging sign and momentarily daze himself. Then, they were there…

Left Behind: Mulberry Street

@Kuro Yup. He's much more the latter. I did want to give him one moment of awesome at some point, just to not make his narrative so straightforward, but it's mostly meant to be a harsh dose of reality, gradually and crushingly delivered until he finds a way to rebuild himself. He's enthusiastic enough in the early going that he'll see, hear, and think no evil until things really catch up to him. Once they do... that's where the juicy part begins.