Roleplaying

Greg shamelessly winked at her before moving towards the steps, hopping down them noisily as if he had not an ounce of grace in his being. The sound of his boot clattering stopped short in a sudden manner, and a word of disbelief could be heard coming from his mouth.

“CELESTE! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL HAPPENED TO YOUR BASEMENT? It used to be beautiful down here. Heck, it was so organized I could even find things...” the mutt muttered.

Not waiting for an answer, he waded forward through the boxes and storage units towards the back of the room. In the darkness and chaos he tripped over an unknown object and went down only to catch himself on his hands at the last second with his nose an inch away from the stone floor. A sigh of relief whooshed from his lungs when he realized his features remained unharmed, and the surprise that had gripped his face melted away into a satisfied smirk. Once back up on his feet he headed deeper into the mess until he found himself facing the gear.

In the meanwhile, Celeste had appeared near the cellar now fully dressed. She smiled apologetically down the stairs as if sending her sorriness to him but said nothing, opting instead to turn towards Lorin.

“Greg brought breakfast – there are hard boiled eggs, nuts, lightly cooked bacon, and drinks in the thermoses. As soon as you've both eaten we'll leave to meet Jett,” she explained.

Lorin resisted a snarl when Greg had winked at her, the particular gesture would likely become commonplace much to her dismay. She flinched at his thunderous stomping. Hopefully his feet wouldn't be so heavy while hunting or else they would never catch anything. Then he shouted and she huffed in frustration. Could he be any louder? Hopefully they wouldn't be travelling with the equivalent of a one man band.

Celeste's voice was a murmur against the racket Greg made while trudging through the basement. At least she didn't have to worry about the healer assaulting her eardrums. It didn't seem like she could ever meet the sound level of Greg in her lifetime.

Oh, bacon? Upon the mention of food she took in the scent in the air, wondering why she hadn't caught scent of breakfast earlier. She moved slightly trying to pinpoint it's location. Once she had decided on it's general location she began padding towards the source of the smell.

Celeste smiled at the movement of her guest and turned to follow her back into the main room, but before she could take a step Greg called out her name. She paused and looked back towards the cellar steps to see him climbing back up, his personal collection of gear now gathered in his arms. Once at the top he put his backpack on the floor along with the rest of his belongings and straightened up to address the healer.

“Celeste.”

She looked up at him, eyebrows raised. He leaned forward, tousled her hair, and smiled. Then he sighed and stretched his arms above his head. After a moment the backpack was picked up only to be slung over his shoulder, the very signal Celeste needed to know that their little greeting and his passing of affection was over.

She went into the main room and headed towards the table, grabbing two cups on her way over, one of which she slid across the table towards the direction of Lorin. She took hold of a thermos and unscrewed the cap, and her nose told her it was exactly what she didn't want, so she placed it back on the table and opened the second, pouring herself a cup of warm tea.

By the time the healer had arrived Lorin had already gotten ahold of the eggs and bacon. She had two strips of bacon in her mouth and was preoccupied with the task of cracking and peeling the shell off of an egg. Perhaps a little too occupied as she had inhaled a small scrap of bacon.

She set the egg down and gave a few shallow coughs not too concerned. This was a typical occurrence because of the speed at which she ate. It was a habit she had adopted in order to eat as much as possible before scavengers could claim her food. Was it necessary she down her food so quickly here? No, it was just a force of habit. She gave them a thumbs up as a signal that she was in no danger and simply needed a few moments. After a few deeper, raspy coughs she had successfully dislodged the food matter from her throat.

She reached for the thermos Celeste hadn't used, despising the scent and taste of the leaf juice they called tea. After unscrewing the cap her nose immediately picked up on the sickenly sweet and fruity scent of the drink, identifying it as apple cider. Still better than leaf juice. She poured herself a cup and set the thermos back down, screwing the cap into place.

Celeste's face was painted over in a wash of concerned amusement – she'd recognized that feral instinct of speed-eating. It was something she saw in a lot of the newer Collective members and was often how she could identify them and keep them apart from those that she simply hadn't met yet. It made Lorin stick out from the rest, and though she couldn't remember a time when she herself had faced the struggle for food she could in the least sympathize with her.

“She said as long as you don't die or get a – wait, what? Oh, oh, okay – stomach, that's what she was saying, okay, a stomach ache you can have as much as you want,” Greg said, reading the healer's hands. “Hold it, what about me?”

Celeste smiled kindly and signed at him.

“What? Not cool!”

He lunged forward at the table to grab up what he could, making her laugh at the urgency in his actions. That bubbly, effervescent sound stopped a little too short when it caught in her throat, and she frowned unhappily downward while feeling at her neck, rubbing it gently. The frown, however, quickly disappeared and she reverted to an alert and cheery look.

She tapped Greg and signed at him.

“Alright, as soon as we finish up we're going to meet up with Jett at the front gates and head into the city. He should be finished getting ready by now, and he'll be over there soon. I wonder who's babysitting the new ager...”

Lorin was curious as to what the healer had signed that caused Greg to act so urgently but overall she wasn't too concerned. There were more pressing matters to worry about. Matters such as finishing breakfast or remembering which areas in the city to avoid.

Her mental map of the city was far superior than that of the Collective. Even so there were some areas of New Chicago she had never gone, and would never want to go. Mainly territories of particularly vicious gangs. Areas where there was no guarantee you would escape with all limbs or your life intact. Thankfully these areas were few and far between, and were marked rather clearly by painted symbols or by the carnage such gangs caused.

Most gangs aren't nearly as territorial as their more extreme examples. Some will only become a hassle if you hunt in their territory or happen to have something particularly valuable on hand. Still good areas to avoid, but far less lethal. Where she typically hunted was the neutral territories, or streets controlled by the most passive of gangs.

Her attention was reeled back into the conversation and her expression became a notably irritated one upon the mention of the new ager. Even after spending some time with Celeste her opinion of 'Illness' hadn't changed. It was best that creature be killed or transported far away from the Collective, but she wouldn't dare do either herself. Not at the risk of being banished. Hopefully whoever was babysitting the beast knew how to watch over him. The consequence of the creature escaping withing camp fences would be catastrophic. "As long as they're nothing like you they should be fine," she aimed her comment at Greg.

There would be another time and place to worry about the new ager though. She was quick to finish what food she could. They needed to go soon before all the easier food to hunt or collect was claimed.

Greg smiled grandly at Lorin. “This girl just keeps getting better and better, don't you think, Celeste?”

He planted his hands firmly on the table and nodded resolutely, then turned and grabbed up the small rucksack that he'd set down on the floor. He settled down on a stool and began clipping the backpack straps together, going back to double check that each one was properly in place. Then he reached around and took the healer's hand, pulling her next to him, and started to fasten her own pack into place with the help of her own little fingers. As he worked he talked with a light, casual tone.

“Tell me, little kötümser, what kind of hunting do you do? What's your preferred target? Celeste and Jett like dumpsters, but that's not quite for me.”

Dumpsters? Lorin would never think to rummage through those unless on the verge of starvation. There were obvious risks associated with dumpster diving such as disease, injury, and what she hated most was that if another scavenger came along you would be an easy catch while stumbling to escape the dumpster. However she did understand that when an entire camp needed to be fed, their quality of food had to be sacrificed to provide for as many individuals as possible.

"I typically hunt live prey," her tone of voice changed considerably to a nearly jovial one. Her father had instilled a sense of excitement for hunting into her when she was just a youngling. She loved the thrill of closing in on her food regardless of the danger that came with it, though not so much so to go after prey much larger than herself or make a habit of hunting down sentient beings.

"I mostly hunt down animals," though if she happened across a freshly killed sentient creature, or had one attack her, that's what she would bring back to camp that day. Under no circumstances would she return with roadkill though, nor creatures that had long been dead. The world was filled with far too many alien diseases and parasites to do that. Even some of the earthly diseases such as rabies could be lethal.

With the last buckle snapped into place, Greg patted Celeste's arm and turned back to Lorin, suddenly all business (though not lacking that permanent hint of a smile). He was studying her carefully, from ears to arms, scrutinizing her physicality and this sudden change of attitude. Whatever he saw seemed to be favorable, because he nodded and gave her a smile that wasn't quite as wicked and flirty as usual. No, this smile was undoubtedly... different.

“Alright, then, Lorin. We both know Celeste and Jett fit together best, and it would be a drag to wait around for them while they dig through garbage.”

His tone implied some sort of deal, transaction, or proposition, not a simple suggestion. It was a challenge, somehow, though there seemed little challenge in the implication.

“I was thinking of heading in a different direction than them, and it would be so much more fun, er, and  safe, with an extra pair of good arms.”

Lorin found herself holding back a snarl again. She couldn't help it, as for most of her life staring was a sign of aggression, or even disrespect. To her it was a sign that she had invaded someone's territory or that she had something they wished to steal. It was implanted in her mind as rude from her mother, and as a warning from her father. Even smiling could be seen considered a sign of aggression if it showed teeth. Really, her social skills were pitiful, but that's what happens when you live on your own for most of your life and your only interactions are ones of aggression.

As much as she didn't want to be stuck with Greg, it would be a waste of time if they weren't actively hunting while Celeste and Jett rummaged through trash. "I'll go with you," she told him in a resigned manner. It's not like she was going to stick around dumpster diving. There was one disturbing crustacean-like alien pest that she really didn't want to put up with. They were relatively harmless but they simply didn't look safe, constantly foaming from the mouth and moving it's eyestalks around like it were an insect. They were the size of cats, and enjoyed crawling onto faces and eating hair, all while they made terribly high pitched chirping. Those creatures were wrong, in every sense of the word, but at the least they devoured plastic... and hair... and clothes. Basically anything most creatures wouldn't touch, hence why most creatures wouldn't eat the pest. She stopped thinking about the creature for now before she lost what food she had eaten and stood up, sure she already had everything she'd need.

“Well then!” Greg said, standing and nodding to Celeste. “We're going to head out. Eat your breakfast, doll, before you go out. We'll meet you two at the Anthis Street mural, same time as usual. Catch you later!”

He ruffled her hair and poked her nose, then turned and headed towards the door, patting down his pockets as he walked, making sure he had everything he needed. Like the gentleman that he wasn't, he held the door and looked back to nod at his new hunting partner. There was excitement sparkling in the green specks of his eyes and an eagerness to his movements, silent calls to action and adventure.

“We've got a good day ahead of us, so let's get started!”

Lorin walked by Greg in such a manner that she wouldn't have to make any physical contact whatsoever. Even something as simple and common as that had a negative meaning to her. Physical contact to her meant she's been caught, or she's being attacked.

Originally she decided she was going to be the one to lead them to the gate, but she maybe made five steps out of the door before she came to a halt. Where was she in camp? Celeste had been the one who led her here, and she hadn't the slightest idea how to get to the gate from here. For a few moments she stood there like a deer in the headlights, as if freezing for a moment would help her to remember.

She walked in a random direction, thinking maybe the gate could be in this direction. Lorin was typically an independent being and despised relying on others for help. The moment she became dependent she felt like she'd become weak and defenseless.

Greg watched Lorin walk away, amusement spreading across his face. He didn't even bother to hold back the chuckle that was spilling into his mouth from his throat – the politeness that was common in Jett had never rubbed off on him much, and he didn't have the tact to know when it was a bad time to voice his pleasure in what he saw as a humorous situation.

“Hey, kötümser, hold up. You're a hunter, you know how the sun works. The main gate is northeast. You can lead if you really want, just take us in the right direction, yeah?”

Greg cleared his throat and put his hands in his pockets, smiling at her with raised eyebrows. She was a bit more headstrong than he'd expected, but he didn't doubt that she would shape up to his expectations for the morning. Quietly, in the deep of his brain, he was processing her and her actions, appropriately fitting them into his hunting plans, though his face showed no obivous signs of any brain activity besides current enjoyment at his new companion.

Oh, well she felt foolish, which slightly came across in her expression. Some shanties were placed close enough that they hid her view from the sun, which was likely the reason she hadn't thought to use the sun to navigate camp before. She wasn't going to say she knew that the gate was in that particular direction, because she didn't. That was information she'd have to store for future reference. Once she added the vague location of Celeste's place to her mental map, she started moving towards the gate.

She did know how to use the sun to navigate at the least, and managed to start leading them toward the right direction. The camp was less crowded than it had been the day prior. The few who were outside were either huddled around fires, wearing warm clothing, or were more resistant to the cold and didn't appear to be affected.

“So, Lorin, you said you like to hunt. How do you feel about learning a new hunting tactic? I, personally, find it very fun, and I think you would too. No worries, I'm not getting you into anything too dangerous, it's probably safer than most ways of hunting, not to mention-”

Greg dodged a door that swung open, skipping to the side and waving (with a big smile) to the person inside. They waved back and said a kind greeting, then shuffled out into the daylight. He kept quiet for a few moments more, thinking over what he'd been saying. Once he found his place,

“Right! Er... right, yeah, the haul is a lot bigger than anyone would usually get on an average day of scavenging, assuming they didn't, you know, hold up a grocers or something. Like I said, though, safer than that. Also safer than hunting down wild animals and running into gangs.”

He stepped over a small ditch and then looked up at the sky. It was lighting up beautifully, and the newly moved in clouds looked soft and round, big and ready to take to the upper skies like sailing ships. Within a few days, no doubt, there would be rain again much to the relief of the city, and the wind would pick up and do damage and make everyone complain about Earth and its weather, but then everyone would settle back down, just as they always did. That train of thought made him smile in wonder up at the heavens in all their glory.

Earth is a dangerous place, whether in the hybrid-infested countryside or crumbling, dark cities, but no place is more dangerous or rough than New Chicago. Whether out on the streets or high in the penthouses, no one's truly safe.

The world has become a new place. Some people call it impossible, but others just call it apocalyptic. There's barely a government, and what's left of it is corrupt and dangerous - the people live in factions, gangs, or try to survive on their own, and the only peace between them are through the pacts that have been made. The rich thrive and keep themselves safe, but anyone unfortunate enough to be less than that spends every day hoping to stay alive.

Species:
Ghouls - they're intelligent beings, humanoid in appearance. Their skin rots, and their lifespan is determined by how long their meat stays on their bones.

Zombies - they're dumb and benign unless angered or bothered. They're brainless, so essentially they don't do anything except wander around, bump into things, and (on the occasion) turn into a terrifying killing and flesh-eating monster. These aren't characters, but they can be used by any writer as a tool, the way one would write about a pet or object a character interacts with. If you plan on using a zombie, PM me to clarify what you want to use one for.

Humans - just like us, but now they share their planet with many other species. Many feel cheated out of their home, and most scramble to keep their kind from dying out.

Aliens - there are many, many kinds, and over the years they've adapted to the newness of the world. From tall to small, these creatures come in all shapes, sizes, and origins. (PM me to clarify what kind of alien you would like to be - it has to be your own creation or one that someone else in the roleplay has made up).

Mutts - an alien-human, alien-alien, ghoul-alien offspring.

Hybrids - always different, always weird, hybrids are animal-human-zombie creatures. Whether four legs or two, each species of hybrids are as oddly animal as they are humanoid. Some can talk, most can't, but all have a highly feral nature and are willing to 'defend' themselves quickly through force.

Additional - any species you think should be on this list that isn't. PM me if you have any ideas.

None yet.

THE ROLEPLAY SLOGAN: Falcon hug that piece of beef jerkwad

No godmoding, guys - be cool

Come up with your own, unique charater, but make their personality realistic. No one likes a Mary Sue or an impossible character.

You only get to kill another character, or injure, if you have the writer's permission.

Don't let things that happen in character affect or influence how you treat someone out of character, and please don't use your character as a way to get at another roleplayer. Don't be cheap.

If you want to write a huge post, go for it! Write a huge one! But, before you do so, write up a message in the OOC chat to let everyone else know it might be a bit and to wait to post until you finish.

If you need to write a post that connects directly to a previous post, but you're worried that someone else might post before you can finish writing, say something in the OOC chat and everyone will wait to post until your done, but you only have a 4 hour window to finish up and post.

Always check the OOC before you post, just so you know what's up.

Breaking the rules can end up in being expelled (kicked out, or whatever you want to call it) from the roleplay depending on the offence.

Lastly, if you have any questions, hit me up. If you choose to be an alien, mutt, or hybrid, send me a message giving me more information on your character as well as an example of what your roleplay post might be like so I can get a sense of what kind of writer you are. If I like your moxie, you're in.