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Post by jeanetteisabelle on Jul 23, 2010 9:57:20 GMT -5
Player: GUUKAN KITSUNELeo and Lea nod at Alfred, looking at Chihiro as she gives her offer. The two of them look at each other and are silent for several seconds. in reality, the two are flashing thoughts back and forth at one another. She offers us a Home? Has it been found at last? No, this is not our home, wemust move on. But how do we know its not our Home? Does it feel like our Home? No. Then it's not our Home. After this unspoken, unheard conversation, they turn to Chihiro. "Thank you for the offer..." "...but we must find our Home ourselves." Chihiro thinks back to when she was first here and how this place did not feel like home to her despite how the mutants were so friendly to her. "I understand. Everyone needs to find their own place where they belong." Chihiro took them at their word and did not pursue the matter any further. Among the crowd of people, Chihiro hears her name. She turns around as Leo starts to roll up his sleave. "Coming!" Chihiro starts to run off, stops, turns around addressing the man and the twins with a bow she says, "Sorry. I have to go now." Chihiro rejoins her friends. Jeanette Isabelle
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Lifon
New Member
[Z0:6]
Posts: 15
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Post by Lifon on Jul 23, 2010 9:58:04 GMT -5
Gabriella blinked, looking up at the kind man. "Sure, I'd love that," she said, nodding. Her green eyes scanned Memmon's face. He seemed to be a very nice person to offer such a thing to someone he had just met. But she knew she could definitely use a guide. She didn't really know where she was going or what she was going to do.
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The Enemy
New Member
[Z0:3]Gun Nutter.
Posts: 26
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Post by The Enemy on Jul 23, 2010 10:34:55 GMT -5
Memmon smiled happily. "Then, do you need anything before we go?" he asks with a sincere smile. I finally have some company. . . this is great. Maybe . . . no, stop thinking that far ahead. He shook his head side-to-side for a couple seconds, then smiled at her again.
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Lifon
New Member
[Z0:6]
Posts: 15
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Post by Lifon on Jul 23, 2010 10:55:43 GMT -5
"Nah, there was nothing in particular I was looking for... Just a job or some way to survive. Traveling with you sounds fun, and you look tough, like you would know what to do in a survival situation out here on land. So I'm ready to go anytime with you," Gabriella says, smiling back at him. She hefted her gear over her shoulder, shuffling her feet a little.
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Post by The Nobody on Jul 23, 2010 12:47:05 GMT -5
[OOC] Question to the GM: What time of the year is it in the story currently? [/OOC] Nobody said it takes place at the beginning of May. I presume he means May 1. I looked at the 2050 calender and May 1 falls on a Sunday which is perfect. Jeanette Isabelle Then, so be it. May 1 2050. But not all contemporary calendars agree on it.
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Post by Shani on Jul 23, 2010 13:56:34 GMT -5
Nobody said it takes place at the beginning of May. I presume he means May 1. I looked at the 2050 calender and May 1 falls on a Sunday which is perfect. Jeanette Isabelle Then, so be it. May 1 2050. But not all contemporary calendars agree on it. Meaning Yura hasn't quite turned 40 yet, then. =P Will be fun to RP that.
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Jessito
New Member
[Z0:11]
Posts: 30
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Post by Jessito on Jul 23, 2010 15:11:23 GMT -5
Outside the southern gate, by an old burned-out car sat an omnious figure, clad in tattered rags that draped from his body, ontop of the wreck's hood frame. He held a slightly frayed novel infront of him that he had found in the trunk. Most of it's pages were sooty and torn - bits of it dropping off with every turn of a page.
In the background, Edwin could faintly hear the bellow of Yura's speech, chortling to himself under his rebreather as he heard it suddenly cut off, by Mirka's temper from his guess.
Edwin tossed the grubby book behind him into a pile of useless scrap nearby, sliding off of his perch to retrieve his rifle, leaning on the side of the wreck. He briskly slung the heavy weapon over his shoulder, bouncing slightly to adjust the weight before he began to make his way over towards the gate under the watchmen's uneasing gaze.
It wasn't quite his taste going into public areas such as towns and settlements, as he was usually greeted with warning shots. Though in this case he was sure that his kind were at least... tolerated. He had seen a few oddities wander on through the gate earlier after seperating from his travel-mates. At this point Edwin was too bored and peckish to wait any longer.
Edwin drifted along behind another group of wastelanders moving through the large gate in the southern wall, the echoes of airships passing overheard intensified as he moved through the short tunnel, surprised there were no guards there to frisk anybody.
Feeling slightly smaller than he did outside, Edwin continued on through the 'hive', his glance darting about to the many gloomed faces of passerbys, not seeming to be the least bit alarmed to his pesence like he had predicted - though unhappy to see him looking nonetheless. A few muttered something foul to themselves as they passed by. To them, he was probably just another anonymous piece of wasteland dirt come to trade looted or stolen goods for chems.
It was time for Ed to find his friends again and see if their speeches had inspired any greenhorns with a deathwish.
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Post by jeanetteisabelle on Jul 23, 2010 16:02:42 GMT -5
Then, so be it. May 1 2050. But not all contemporary calendars agree on it. By that you mean the calender in the story may not be the same as our calender? Jeanette Isabelle
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Post by Gorthank on Jul 23, 2010 18:00:53 GMT -5
Then, so be it. May 1 2050. But not all contemporary calendars agree on it. By that you mean the calender in the story may not be the same as our calender? Jeanette Isabelle Due to there being no official calendar people have fallen upon the use of many different systems. Big cities still use the old calendar from before the Happening, though the exact date may vary due to people forgetting to adjust a few days, forgetting about the irregular year or just starting from when they felt the right date was. Also those with access to a working computer might use its internal clock. Those of course are not very accurate over a long period, especially in the event the battery goes dead for a few days, and usually differ significantly. Many tribes that formed have created lunar or solar calendars, with exact dates being less important than the passage of seasons. Others yet use the new system, having picked the starting date, the day a settlement was created for example. Inconsistencies are nothing unusual and nobody really gives it a second thought on a daily basis.
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Vap
Full Member
[Z0:2]{Zoologist and Resident Crazy}
Posts: 168
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Post by Vap on Jul 23, 2010 19:35:17 GMT -5
"Mmf, town's busy today..." A young woman mutters to herself once she enters the front gates, her ridiculously slim frame looking somewhat fidgety in the all of the bustle, and for good reason since she had yet to acquire a big enough coat. One may wonder why she'd need one with ample room since she was so thin. At least until they looked behind her.
A large set of wings are tucked neatly against the woman's back, an accompanying tail of feathers sprouting from above her short shorts until they barely brushed the dirt. Luckily this was all people could see of her mutations, the rest hidden under a dust covered hat and a pair of thick, elbow length gloves which had various spots of old, dry blood.
Toting over her boney shoulder was a stick with some leather straps tied to the end, four freshly killed vultures hanging upside down from those straps. Kawako, that was her name, ignored the odd looks of surrounding folks as she toted her kills through to the market, though she had to stop thanks to the distracting crowd surrounding Yura and Mirka's little area.
Kawako rubs her chin idly with a gloved hand at the shouted offer, finally deciding that it may be worth a shot to try and join. With a new bound in her step the winged mutant makes her way to the stage, slipping through the crowd until she was near the front. "I'll take a shot at your little job offer, if yah need a scout, sniper, or lookout." Wings flair out slightly as she speaks, making some of the crowd move away from her, though she was merely trying to get Mirka's attention.
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Post by Benny the Bear on Jul 24, 2010 8:22:40 GMT -5
Yura was somewhat miffed about Mirka's intrusion on his grand speech, though as usual he kept quiet, knowing that Mirka was the "people person" of the group and knew how to rally people, even if for the wrong purpose.
Ignoring Mirka's scolding after she got off of the truck, he just nodded his head in agreement, pretending to listen, pulled out a cigarette and began walking away to the other end of the truck to think on future plans, such as finding nearby sources of alcohol... to fuel the truck, of course. But before managing to find a light he noticed a bird-person-thing trying to get their attention.
Yura didn't really care what it was, other than the fact that someone bothered to hear their makeshift self-announcement, so he quickly approached the stranger, shouting out "Oh! volunteer! ve is alvays happy to get help!", whilst having an out-stretched arm, ready to get a handshake in before someone got in the way or changed their mind.
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Mikan
New Member
[Z0:1]
Posts: 28
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Post by Mikan on Jul 24, 2010 8:50:52 GMT -5
April was the cruellest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.
Reid had spent the last month in an old bunker, only his metalworking to pass the time. He craved the contact of people, even if those were only clientele, interested in naught but his work. Now come May, he unhindged the bolted doors. The sun burst in like a wave, washing the room with dust and heat. Giving his cart one hefty push, he was outside, free, his sea green eyes roaming the wasteland.
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow out of this stony rubbish? Son of man, you cannot say, or guess, for you know only a heap of broken images, where the sun beats, and the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, and the dry stone no sound of water.
Reid pressed on with assurance, confident that his luck would lead him to water, life, and other pilgrims like himself. Sure enough, there it was. Before him stood the wall, guarded and sturdy, clamor of activity bursting from within. He approached, unwarily executed the ritual of passage, and entered with eyes wide.
Unreal city, under the brown fog of a late spring dawn, a crowd flowed over Charleston streets, so many, I had not thought death had undone so many. Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled, and each man fixed his eyes before his feet.
His smile washed away, but his eyes still showing a bright glimmer of hope, he took a brisker step in the direction of the market. The streets kept filling with souls stranger than the last, mutants, foreigners, airships huffing overhead like large, living beasts. Maybe here he would finally meet a seafarer like himself.
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Post by jeanetteisabelle on Jul 24, 2010 10:09:36 GMT -5
I have noticed some have come through the South Gate and others though the East Gate. Is this story taking place in two locations?
Jeanette Isabelle
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Post by Shani on Jul 24, 2010 11:11:18 GMT -5
I have noticed some have come through the South Gate and others though the East Gate. Is this story taking place in two locations? Jeanette Isabelle No matter from which side you enter a city if your destination is still the same market district
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Post by Shani on Jul 24, 2010 11:12:24 GMT -5
"What he means is recruit!" Mirka butted in, leaning over Yura's outstratched arm. "His English isn't that good, you see," she explained. She was beginning to lose hope that anyone would respond to their offer, even though it's only been a couple of minutes, but immediately brightened up at seeing the cloaked stranger. "We'd be glad to have you with us, but first," she took on a more serious tone here and shot a piercing gaze at the mutant, "Who are you, where are you from, what are your abilities, why do want to work for us, and when will you be ready to start?"
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