ONL

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Alexander Polawski Location: Graveyard Skills: N/A

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While Alexander himself had little more to say than his brief farewell with Lola, others clearly had more to get of their chests. He didn't mind, and why should he? It was still saddening to hear the others he still knew little about, hear them talk about the souls resting at his very feet. While they spoke, Alexander would silently look at those people and those graves respectively, knowing this was the respectful way. Been there, done that before. He had lost count on how many funerals of soldiers KIA he'd attended, people and units he'd never heard of. But they were all brothers in arms, and the same applied to these people.

After Amelia had said farewell earlier, it was Ash's turn speaking of Ryan and James in differing substance. At least the James name rang a bell in Alexander's mind, mostly reinforced by Thalia's reaction to him way back when they all first stumbled upon eachother. While he himself didn't know the man, the story Ash related made an impression on old Mugsy, the tears that had gently dripped earlier continuing to come. It was a brilliantly ridiculous one that mirrored the shows on TV James had apparenly hailed from, and the crazy tales ol' Mugsy had both partaken in and heard of in 'Nam. It was a man he sure would have liked to know, yet now all he could do was to pray for his soul.

Thalia had less to say about Lola, though the impact was none the less one of a great lady. A crazy TANK-driving Kiwi who wanted to drink tea, but a great one. Died with a song on her lips, how poetic. Alexander knew she was the closest one to Lola and been for a some time, letting her speak what little she said. He had said his part, there was little else to do. Finally she would get a date on her grave and her full name. She would be missed too, that crazy Kiwi.

Alexander gave a look over to Manny who he saw mouthed something quietly, nodding in silence at whatever was said. He assumed it was something akin to the many thanks and farewells the rest of them had given. A silent nod and a brief smile, Alexander knew Manny hadn't met most of these people, the last one only for a living moment. Still, Alexander appriciated Manny coming along. He was a good man, the best dentist on this side of the world.

Then there was not much left to say. Atticus gave them a few more minutes to bid farewell to their lost ones. Alexander was left standing alone for himself, shotgun pointed down to the ground and his eyes lifted up to one of the trees occupying the cemetery. He wondered…where would he be laid to rest when his time came, and would he be fit to return to the arms of his Lord when the time was right? And would they be there, all of them?

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Nigel Cooper Location: Hydroponic Garden (T) Skills: N/A

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The gentle breeze of Amphitrite was not to last forever, like all good things were to pass. In an instant, while Thana enlighted him on the current issues of the wicked barbarians living beyond their protective walls, the breeze that had cooled the greenhouse ceased to blow. Nigel felt the halting of the air like a rock thrown at his head and shoulders, weighing him down once again with the unbareable heat he was yet to grown used to.

Wiping his forehead for the beads of sweat once again, Nigel continued to listen to Thana and what she had to say about the so-called Bayou people. Ferals, Mad Max, Waterworld, references to movies he knew he'd seen and perhaps would want to see again. At least those with Kevin Costner, though preferable as Robin Hood. "They don't sound like the sorts you want integrated into your camp, do they?" Nigel commented through himself changing into his last pair of clothes and shoes like Thana, though wondering why they bothered if they were to work inside the greenhouse in that heat.

Thankfully Thana recived the divine wisdom of Athena to withdraw from the infernal forges of Mars, much to Nigel's joy. With a tired smile and an untrained salute, Nigel followed Thana outside into the lesser evil humid heat. "Yes ma'am, not going to ask twice for that." He replied, though noting her trailing off and closing her eyes when talking about Eden. Eden, that wretched place of devils he had heard about. Nigel was still curious as to how bad the place had been, though the look on Thana's face told the Roman teacher to let it be. "Hey, Athena, let's go get that paperwork done. I'll show you I know how to wield a pen like a sword. Come." Nigel tried to distract her from whatever she was thinking, awkwardly laying his sweaty hand on her shoulder, not knowing what to do. He was a neo-Roman, not a well-trained Greek diplomat for Jupiter's sake!

The Rain In The Cycolpean City. (H.P. Lovecraft/Cthulhu Mythos Roleplay)

Richard Barker

Silence. Utter and desolute silence permiated Richard's senses as he looked down the stairs again, after having taking a brief look earlier. At first he had thought he caught the sight of the two members left down in the hallway, shouting down at them something about what the suckers outside were shouting about, what he himself found upstairs and their opinions on the newly-found box. But as he took a second look down the staircase, his brows raised far up his face and jaw dropped slightly, almost losing the cigarette in the process.

Where the fuck had they gone?

"Uhm…fellas? Anderson, Ambroise? Ah chucks, they left me high and dry…" Richard muttered to himself under his breath, seeing himself alone in the house that desperately needed a new paint stroke. Or rather, it needed to be demolished and rebuilt by some proper labourers. Richard sighed, putting the box down at his feet as he took off his fedora, running his hand through his greasy hair and putting the hat back on. Well, if he was alone, at least no one could put their nose in his business.

Sitting down onto the stairs, Richard began fiddling with the clues he had found so far, the cigarette dangling back and forth in his mouth like the weight on a grandfather's clock would. A box, an alarm clock and a piece of paper. Nearly a complete paper trail. Aha, Richard would 'never' get tired of chasing paper around…yeah right, like he was a pencil pusher.

First of all, the paper then. Opening it, Richard was unsure what he saw imprinted on the faded paper. "What do we have here…looks like an inkdot…octopus?" Richard questioned himself, wondering just what the imprint was and what it was made of. Charcoal? It only put forward more questions than it answered.

Second was the clock, odd as it was. Why had Jeremy, or this "Harry" have it hidden underneath the bed? Richard toyed with it for a moment, lifting it up and rattling it ever so slightly. Rattling, and not just the sound of a broken clock. Something big was hidded inside. Richard pulled out his set of lockpicks, choosing a thick screwdriver-looking tool and catching the edge of the clock's backside. Eventually, perhaps after a few minutes of fiddling, he got it off, revealing the clock's contents. A key. "Oh let me guess, this is the Key to this puzzle? Ha…ha…real funny, Jeremy, you absolute clown…"

Richard, not being amused at all by the bullshittery that was occupying his day, decided to check the chest and get over with it. He had a hell of a lot of questions to have his mind ponder over, and too many questions popping up for him to process alone. The chest was fair enough to lockpick open, only taking him another five minutes or so. Inside he found…yet more paper - A journal. Quickly turning the pages and only getting glimpses of its contents, Richard got an eire feeling in his stomach, one that had in reality been there since he first looked at the imprint on the paper and the hidded key. Something bad, something dark…like when he knew he was stepping into a bad alleyway, and someone wasn't walking out alive.

"Jesus Christ in a handbasket, I need a coffee…and Irish coffee, whiskey and secterian split and all…" Richard muttered angrily, wearily under his breath, tucking the journal inside his jacket alongside the other pieces of evidence he'd picked up. Something about those things sent a shiver down his spine, or perhaps it was the moldy interiour that got to him. Whatever it was, Richard decided to exit the house after what had felt like an hour on the inside snooping around.

He did not expect the welcoming-comittee he was greeted with.

"Of all the rain-soaked dead-end holes I wander into, and I'm greeted by you?" Richard exclaimed as he heard him being shouted at, squinting his eyes underneath that brown fedora as he realized who was talking to him. Dirk Garther, fellow former NYPD beatcop and equally miserable son of a bitch. "Oh I remember you, green-bag. You're the square new guy at the club house that couldn't tell a stool pidgeon from a torpedo. Good to see you though, you're right; you can really use me."

Clearly the group had grown by one more stooge at this point, a tower of guy who looked like he came straight out of Harlem on a good day, unlike this one. Another guy who knew Jeremy? This was getting weird indeed. Richard mouthed his cigarette and let out a long puff of smoke, signalling everyone that he was noting the conversation silently. Too bad he waited too long, for Dirk let the tounge slip that Harry was dead and they were to follow him to the police station - in Dirk's car. "To Hell with that, Dirk. How am I supposed to get back home? Cab, out here in this God-forsaken place? Nah, you know me, I'll be right behind you." Richard retorted, refusing to simply get in Dirk's car like a common thug. Either he'd have to be forced at gunpoint or have a real good reason why Richard wouldn't follow him in his own car, and so far something else was much MUCH more important, as Richard looked at the group.

"And just where has Mr. Ambrose and Mr. Anderson gone? Did they scamper off while you guys chatted over tea and cookes? "

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Alexander Polawski Location: Graveyard Skills: N/A

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There was a painful ache somewhere in Alexander, a sort of black hole that kept the old veteran's guard up as the group got together outside the bus. He couldn't place its location, rather it seemed to glow from wherever he was feeling after. While his eyes and ears were shifting past each member attending what would be his first funeral gathering in many moons, his stance echoing Atticus' cautionary tale, Alexander tried to isolate the pain inside him.

They started moving. While Alexander wasn't actively ignoring the story Daytona told Thalia about the fool named Dimsdale, he continued his attempt at supressing the pain distracting him from being alert. Yes they were a number of armed survivors with enough weapons to defend themselves, but in his opinion, nine out of ten times it was the guy not paying attention that got the first VC bullet, not that he could back it up with any concrete facts. Then again was he paying attention himself? The pain kept being a, well, pain in the bud. Perhaps it was the swan-dive that had roughened up his arse?

Alexander was swept of these searching thoughts as they reached their final destination - the graves proper. The sun shined as bright and annoyingly down at them as ever, sweat pouring down Alexander's face when he'd be much happier with a pair of good sunglasses and a Boonie hat, though that didn't cross his mind at that time. With Atticus announcing their arrival and asking the group whether they wanted him to say some words, Alexander looked blankly down at the graves, in particular the one belonging to a certain Kiwi.

The pain centered itself in his chest. Sorrow, grief, sadness. Alexander was sad.

It was by his sheer force of will that Alexander didn't fall on his knees in front of the graves, though he looked at them with an empty look. The others he didn't know or had only known real briefly relative to Lola, though that didn't make it any easier for a man who'd seen enough death for one life. Did he want Atticus to say anything? What was there to say, they were put to rest in the ground already. Alexander stiffled a quiver and held back most of the tears, simply crossing himself and looking over to Thalia. Lola had been her friend before they met in a TANK, she knew more about that strange Kiwi.

"I don't know. Thanks for the ride, Lola, and for the coffee. Keep the tea-set ready for us, would you?" Alexander said quietly, emotionally, though audible enough for most people to hear him. Whether he spoke to Thalia, Lola or himself was up for grabs, but somewhere inside him the pain both intensified and released, a brief smile tugging at his face. "May their souls and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace…"

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Nigel Cooper Location: Hydroponic Garden (T) Skills: N/A

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The mood was certainly lighter still back at the lesser Hanging Gardens of Babylon, at least this section of the grand wonder of the apocalypse world, and in no thanks to the dreadful humidity that weighed heavy on Nigel's shoulders. Thana's revelation had done more than enough to make Nigel forget about it though, the talk of other centers of human civilisation still making a stand outside of Camp Mexico Beach. And following her inside the greenhouse, he was eager to learn more from thought-lost bastions of humanity.

Nigel listened eagerly to Thana's tales, nearly forgetting what he was supposed to do though following her lead in the change of clothes. It was almost to good to be true, just like the wind blew through the pipes and made the dephts of Hades less miserable for those mere mortals. Through the exchange Nigel only nodded and gave the occational "Wow…" and such. For better and for worse, now he knew there existed other settlements outside of these protective walls - papermills and all! He was impressed, and it wasn't difficult to read the astonishment on his sweaty face.

"Well I guess shocked is a good of an adjective as I'll ever teach the younglings, if that's were I end up here among you. A working papermill? That would explain how you can afford giving us all these tests and forms you've done, and agreed, toilet paper is a luxury on-par with Chinese silk these days. But…" Nigel said back to Thana, getting off his wetsuit and re-dressing in his own shorts and t-shirt, glad to feel some air on his skin again. It was Thana's mention of a second group that made Nigel's excitement blow away like the humid air inside. "Who're those guys then, the Bayou? You mean all "dueling-banjoes" and frightening hill billies? Barbarians?" Nigel asked her, not liking the tone which she'd set for those people. These days you couldn't cherry-pick your friends, Sportucas had learned that thanks to the dynamic hetero-duo early, but still. Thana's words didn't conjure up a pleasent image of them. "Should I…or we be worried?"

One good thing about today.

Job interview went well, ate a good salad for lunch and generally felt like I did good. Good day.

The Rain In The Cycolpean City. (H.P. Lovecraft/Cthulhu Mythos Roleplay)

Richard Barker

Nothing. Nobody shouted back to answer Richard after he'd asked for an update downstairs. Odd, hadn't they heard him, or did they choose to ignore him? Maybe, wouldn't be first ones to pretend he wasn't there. Richard contemplated going out and repeating his question, but something in his gut kept him in that same room, eyes and other senses going over the clues and weird shit he was seeing.

Going over the few sets of bits he had gathered already, Richard paced the room calmly as he repeated to himself the words and phrases he had just written down. "Watching…32 degrees 20,0' North…002 degrees 44,8' East…Carcosa?" He whispered to himself, scratching his head and puffing the stiff cigarette on his equally stiff lower lip, not making sense of what the detective thought Jeremy must have seen some logic in. The logic of a looney, sure, but still…"These are more tricks than a car filled with monkeys…"

Best to put the notepad away for the moment, Richard thought. He still had yet to search the remainder of Jeremy's room. On instinct Richard crouched down onto his knees and began looking horizontally along the floor, seeking anything hidded out of sight, and sure there he found something. Under Jeremy's bed the private detective pulled out a pocket watch, and not one of those cheap ones you could buy in Little Italy. It was a pretty expensive one, making Richard wonder why it had been hidded, or more likely thrown under the bed out of all places? And what was the piece of paper tucked underneath it? Richard pocketed the note without further thought, rather deciding he should keep looking and get out of the room sooner rather than later. Next stop, the closet.

The closet was open, containing only rotting clothes of various colours and styles. Geeze, the humidity really had done a number on the house. Good thing his own office wasn't as shitty as this, not by a long-shot. But just like the watch under the bed, something was hidded at the buttom. A wooden chest, rotting just like the rest of the house. He figured it had to be hidded, considering it was placed in the closet, even if it was hidded like crap. Well, better to take it out and see what was inside.

It was apparenly a solid moment for Ferd and Val to head outside and shout at whoever stool-pidgeon was watching them, and not in a stealthy manner either. Richard sighed, wondering if the next thing he would hear were "Hey there, stop!" or "He's got a gun!". "I guess those amatours need me…" Richard sighed, picking up the wooden box from the closet and quickly making his way out of the bedroom, proceeding to the staircase. "What did those two squares do? Also, anyone have an idea what this box is? Ol' Jeremy was hiding it like it was the Arch of the Covenant or something, except he hid it like a drunken cobbler in a swamp." Richard asked downstairs, looking over the railing at the remainder of the crew. "Jeremy really had an...eccentric collection of puzzles up here, like he was searching for someone or something."

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Alexander Polawski Location: The Bus (Q6) Outside CMB -> Graveyard Skills: N/A

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Whatever the conversations had been going on in front, behind and around him, Alexander had only slowly drifted back to the same realm as they existed in. A slideshow of images had passed before him and his tired eyes, thankfully in little-to-no need for glasses even for his age. It made him wonder, what were the role of…those guys who dealt in glasses? Their professional title eluded him like the faulty wire of a broken tv from the mid-1980's, he'd tried to fix too many of those in his lifetime. The silver lining was perhaps that all those hours cursing at the cheap electronics just might pay off those days.

The images that had kept Alexander occupied faded away alongside the scenery, seeing the bus drive away from the camp and somewhere away. The Graveyard. Back in his own reality, Alexander breathed in deep and straightened himself in his seat, turning to look at the others inside the bus. The guards - presuming they were the ones needing guarding - exfiltrated the bus. The Padre, Bass and Joaquin, making their way to open the heavy-set gate and guiding the bus inside. They were finally there, the slumbering fields of those passed and dearly missed.

Alexander wasn't sure what he had expected the Graveyard to look like. One word stuck out, one which could and had been used in his mind in his time there at CMB: Normal. Just like from the newspaper writing about wacky crimes in Florida, or even the page from a school book about the South. Alexander leaned towards the window, taking in the sight as Daytona instructed them to file out and stay close. Close marching formation.

The old veteran gripped the stock of his newly-leant double-barreled shotgun, letting the two young ladies Amelia and Riley get up and out first. While he wasn't expecting them to come under heavy machine gun fire as soon as they stepped out of the bus, Alexander wasn't prepared to feel a wall of humid heat strike him across his wrinkled face. It was as if he was hit by a Caribbean wave somewhere east of the Florida coast, forcing ol' Mugsy to use his one free hand to wipe off his face and give his eyes shade. Okay, perhaps glasses were something he'd have some use for, at least sunglasses.

Alexander, now standing outside the bus and next to Amelia, turned quickly to look at her and give her a brief smile. "Hey dear, it's gonna be okay. We'll stick together, be safe." He told her in an attempt to sound reassuring, while his own thoughts again wandered to scenes the Graveyard reminded him off. The gravestones looked the same and a similar heavy cloud hung over him like it had done back when he came home from the war. For a moment he swore he could see his father and mother's graves somewhere hidded behind a tree, but the lack of rain and cold reminded him of where he truly was.

This would have been a nice place to put her to rest.

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Nigel Cooper Location: Streets of CMB (P6) -> Hydroponic Garden (T) Skills: N/A

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Not until he outranked her. Ah yes, the classical Platonic philosophy of class structures, reinforcing the thought that power remains in the hands of those wise enough to lead. Nigel shook his head with a smirk on his face, almost tempted to give Thana a salute and a "Yes ma'am", though he thought best not to impersonate a military personal. He couldn't fault their way of structuring the hierarchy of Camp Mexico Beach, and so it made sense for him to still be ranked under Thana. The master standing over the slave, but like Thana probably needed him still, the master was nothing without his slaves.

Nigel fanned himself with the palm of his hand, following Thana the grueling journey back to the Gardens through the lumbering heat of Apollo and his sun. He longed to get back into the cool waters of the Gulf of Mexico, they hadn't been able to finish harvesting everything just yet. Following Thana, their first stop appeared to be the Greenhouse again. Waiting for her to answer his question, he watched her open the door and witnessing Thana curse the dreaded heat from inside. "No arguing about that. Felt like the forges of Mars in there." Nigel replied idly, continuing to fan himself and wipe the sweat off his face, looking forward to getting the done over with sooner rather than later. Hopefully he would get used to it…someday…hopefully.

"Wait…other settlements?" Nigel had to repeat after Thana, briefly halting his futile efforts to produce a western wind to cool his body. He had expected to talk about the prospects of scavenging and such, but trading? With other human settlements of civilised peoples? It might not have registered with him earlier if anyone had mentioned other centers of human habitation, but it sure stuck to him now. That and the mention of toilet paper, by the gods did he miss a soft roll of clear toilet paper. "So these other settlements, they're not part of your civili…I mean, they're not part of Camp Mexico Beach? Sorry I sound surprised, but I am. I've spent so much time alone. Suddenly in the span of a few months, I've not only joined one settlement, but now there's others?"

Current Mood in One Gif

The Rain In The Cycolpean City. (H.P. Lovecraft/Cthulhu Mythos Roleplay)

If you can do that, I'll also have Richard finish up his investigation of the bedroom as well!

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Alexander Polawski Location: The Bus (Q6) Outside CMB Skills: N/A

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Staring out the window of a bus, the scenery passing before his old and worn eyes like they had done so many times before. Gates opening and closing was not such a thing he'd witnessed too many times in his life, not like these. Blinking, Alexander guessed that the military check-points he'd passed so many times in his life were the closest he had gotten this far. That and when he'd walked through the massive doors of the church that one day. Breaching the wooden gates that separated his old life from a new one.

Marriage was a strange thing like that. It was the one assault he had no regrets for.

Alexander turned his head idly watch the activety inisde the bus, all the silence that weighed down on them all, and the few sounds of conversation dotted around the seats. The specifics did not colour the canvas that was his hearing, merely the presence of talking as the outer gate opened. The bus drove out, for the first time since when they came here Alexander got to see the outside once again. Not something he had missed seeing, that was for sure, bringing back the memories that kept him at his toes and the hairs in his neck standing cold.

The old veteran nearly zooned out before he registered Bass and the Padre adressing the lovely group of CMB tourists. Reviews, weapons, ammo, not fucking around…Somewhere in the back of his mind, Alexander was reminded of a certain incident involving a flamethrower filled with water, or was it beer? Military pranks, it was fucking hileraous at least, though a pain in the ass afterwards.

They were being armed. Right. Focus.

Being handed a double barreled shotgun and a pack of shells, Alexander accepted the weapon and nodded Bass who gave him the weapon. Not his choice of weapon, being more adept with a rifle or a pistol, but Alexander was not to complain. He was able to defend himself with this, he would prove it. Prove it so that he wouldn't blame himself for more deaths…

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Nigel Cooper Location: Streets of CMB (L5 -> P6) Skills: N/A

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The heat and humidity poured down on neo-Roman like the pebles of Balearic slingers, doubtfully powerful when not experiencing it yourself first hand. Nigel had trouble recollecting anything similar to the Florida weather, well besides his time in the swamps many months ago. This was exactly what the Persians had invented the umbrellas for, and Nigel could hear the voices of his pupils when they told him the artistic renditions of them "looked stupid". Perhaps, but Nigel felt he looked pretty stupid himself sweating like he did walking down the streets of Camp Mexico Beach.

Nigel got the attention of Thana again after having put forth his case, and he was not dissappointed in her response. The reference to Atlas put a chuckle in his voice, making him nod in sweaty agreement to her compromise. "Fair enough. Half the world it is then, but I reserve my right to choose which half." Nigel said back with a smirk, putting his hand up to shield his eyes as he looked forward. Still trying to get used to the city layout of their little fortress, he was at least in capable hands. If Thana got lost there, what hope was there left? His ears certainly were of no use, unable to pick up anything besides the sound of their footsteps, the natural world around them and the sweat pouring down his face.

"So you have the sea to fish from, greens growing in the gardens and under the waves, and somewhere out there the bees that are calmer at dusk. Are there any other sources of food you have here, like scavenging or hunting out in the wild? No easy feat importing Egyptian grain if anything were to happen." Nigel posed the question to Thana the Athenian, wiser and hardier than he was. It was an honest question, as well as a topic of conversation. He remembered how his old settlement had struggled to feed their people sometimes, hell he remembered the very first day when people first got hungry. Hunger was a feeling few people in America had truly felt, and not it was the basic instinct that drove people forward. Nigel didn't want the hungry wolf inside himself back.

One good thing about today.

I am reminded that I have good friends who believe I can do the things I want to do, and I will do all those things