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Mike Jeffries
As of this post, Mike Jeffries has been officially adopted by Dropbear and is now considered to be his character in all ways.

Come ON folks. This is nothing close to the turnout we got last month. More noms, please?

Kaitlin Anderheim
Due to the fact that Nic has never had more than three characters, he takes precedence here and has priority. As such, Kaitlin Anderheim has now been officially adopted by Dr. nic, and is now considered to be his character in all ways.

Aston Bennet
As of this post, Aston Bennet has been officially adopted by Inky and is now considered to be his character in all ways.

Omar Burton
As of this post, Omar Burton has been officially adopted by James and is now considered to be his character in all ways.

JJ Sturn
As of this post, JJ Sturn has been officially adopted by Jonny and is now considered to be his character in all ways.

((Brock Mason continued from Word's Can't Bring Me Down))

The swamp was very... swampy. If somebody were to hold out a dictionary, it was a pretty safe bet that under 'swamp' he'd find a picture of this place. Well... Brock would have to assume it was under swamp if he wasn't given a good long time to try and puzzle it out. But enough about that.

Brock had pretty much been ambling around aimlessly since leaving the little encounter in the woods behind. He wasn't much for maps, so as far as navigation went, it had been pretty much 'pick a direction and start walking'. Stood to reason that sooner or later, he'd run across somebody. Hopefully that'd be someone he could trust, a guy on the team that wasn't too much of an asshat or maybe even Hilary, though that seemed a hell of a lot to hope for. Until then, well, being on his own was just fine.

The pair of girls had pretty much gone off in the other direction, which Brock was glad of, since his offer to them to tag along had been grudging at best. Hunt... well, Hunt wasn't much of a loss either. He'd seemed pretty genuine, but hell Brock sucked at figuring people out. He could have been planning to knife him in the back at first opportunity, for all the footballer had known.

Speaking of knives...

The announcement, coming after Brock had spent the night under a tree (fun times) had struck home in a couple of ways. Brock's grim fatalism had been confirmed, especially with the sheer number of deaths, but for all that, a lot of the names went unremarked by the muscular young man. These guys... he didn't know a lot of them, even if he'd been in their year since he was a Fresher. He knew the team, he knew a couple of other sportsmen, he knew Hilary that was about it. Nobody could exactly call Brock a social butterfly. Still... Tony, Tony Russo was dead. Rob Jenkins and Staffan Kronwall had killed. Shanahan was six feet under.

Goddammit. He'd played football with Tony...

Since then, well, he'd found this frigging swamp.

It pretty much sucked.

One of Three
Since she'd already been searching for ways out as the sound of the breaking window first reached her ears, Rosa was already most of the way to the back of the station's main room when the front door swung open and Kevin Harding entered, toting a shovel and a threatening demeanour. The Fiametta, making tracks towards the window alongside the sofa she'd hidden behind earlier, turned as Harding spoke, but continued to backpedal, closing the gap to her objective.

Dammit, today was just not her lucky day. Well, it wasn't really anyone's lucky day, but hell if that was going to stop Rosa reserving her own little niche of complaint about it. Kevin Harding... yet another fucking football player. Maybe not one that was on the team consistently, but ...still, all of those guys knew JJ. That meant bad news. It was an unexpected boon that Harding decided to threaten Craig of all people (guess that meant they weren't that much of a hive mind), but hell, the dude could wave shovels at Trent all he wanted. Rosa didn't give a flying fuck about Trent.

Good luck with the gun, bonehead... it's not even fucking loaded.

Then Vera, out of nowhere, turned on the ninja moves. Rosa's jaw dropped slightly as the other girl made a running dive for the TEC-9 and managed to not only snag it, but slam a magazine home too. Harding's shovel at Trent's head was looking all of a sudden a little less intimidating. Much as it was tempting to see Harding wet his pants, Rosa still had no interest in sticking around. After all, what if Vera wasn't trustworthy? Rosa would be next in line after the jocks' blood painted the walls.

Cowardly not to stay and make sure that wouldn't happen? Nope. Rosa had more important things to worry about. Family came first. Always.

Taking the opportunity of the distraction Vera provided, Rosa yanked open the window behind her and just about managed to slither through the opening, though her bags almost got caught on the way through. Landing awkwardly on the ground outside, the Fiametta quickly got to her feet, looked this way and that, then took off. There was no time to lose. Any one of those echoing gunshots could be getting fired at Frankie or Ily.

Or fired by them.

((Rosa continued elsewhere))

Interest Check for The Program
Take a look at the thread over on The Mini Board. If you want a chance to participate and missed out on the main game, it might be worth a shot, especially for any newbies.

Isaiah Garvey
As of this post, Isaiah Garvey has been officially adopted by Vole and is now considered to be his character in all ways.

Autumn O'Leary
This is currently under review/appeal. Hold tight and please don't submit bids whilst we clear this up.

Nominate up to THREE characters.

* You must have a good reason for your nomination. We're not asking for dissertations, but 'Cuz he's mai favrite' is not going to stand.
* Try to nominate on merit as opposed to simply people you like or RP with. This is about acknowledging good writing, not a popularity contest.
* There is no reward for winning except praise.
* Winners will not be eligible for nomination in consecutive months.

THIS IS NOT POLITICAL. Please don't start making it that.

- Mimi's characters are ineligible this month.


Clap For The Killers
Somebody called out to her. Kris had seen figures next to the door and though they were in shadow now (or perhaps behind the door frame entirely), they had to have spotted her too. Which meant... which meant, well... they didn't know her.

Hidden, deception. ...Lies.

...She couldn't duck this. She wouldn't duck this. Revelling in anonymity was the smart thing to do, yeah. It was also the 'murderer' thing to do. Skirt the consequences, avoid the repercussions and steal trust away from others. Part of her couldn't believe that she was even considering revealing what she'd done when she'd had the fortune to run into somebody that didn't know her. At the same time, Kris was well aware that the protestations... were coming from the part that had pulled the trigger in the first place.

Kris had to face up.

She looked down to her feet, then up again. Strangely, she had a smile on her face. "Do you know who I am?" her hands, free and clutching a gun respectively, trembled. "My name is Kristina Hartmann. I'm damned and condemned and..." she closed her eyes, breathed. "I'll do my best to... make sure that you are too," she opened them again. "I m-m-murrrdered two people. Y-you'll be next."

Truth. The little thought... spring from its corner. Instinct. smiile. This is who she is. That is who she is. Kris. Mördare.

And she wanted to shoot. She truly, truly wanted to. Except that she didn't at the same time. Survival and morality. Kris had felt that she'd already slipped over the precipice, but for her words, she was still clinging onto the edge with a grim determination. Those guys... they couldn't remain close, because the longer they stuck around, the more Kris would be tempted to do... to do.. to do the smart thing and start firing. Kris hoped against hope that her words had put a scare into the two guys.

...She had far too good an idea what would happen if they hadn't.

Kris' finger hovered on the trigger.

D-d-d-don't. Voice. Jump. Spin. Squeeze. Bang. Dead. "Thanks for tha night, Kris." ...Etain. Sincere smile. "If you're going to shoot then sho-". Trigger, scream. Blood. Flee. Alive. Matter? No. Deep crimson tentacles wind around the hand... "Don't leave me!". Boom. "MOMMY IT HURTS!"... weak...

Bounce, probably rather uncharitably, felt a stab of irritation at the way Victoria reacted to the newcomer's sudden appearance. If Bounce could - at least outwardly - hold it together, then surely so could the other girl? She was supposed to be the supremely-confident one, right? The girl that, before she went steady with Alice, could have the pick of anybody she wanted. Well, that was the impression Bounce had received, anyway. Point was, she was making Bounce HAVE to keep her composure.

Thanks for that one. It was appreciated.

The reassurances of the guy that had come towards them didn't do a whole lot to settle Bounce. It was easy to say such things. Words were little more than air and there had been plenty of competent liars in SOTF over the years. Still, for all that, his eyes didn't seem anything but earnest, his voice had an appropriate tone, insomuch as she could judge. When he dropped the halberd, her mind settled down a hell of a lot more.

Weapons can be hidden.

Then her guard went straight back up again. A halberd was a large, visible threat. A smart player could always use it as a decoy, throw it away, leave themself 'unarmed' whilst having a gun ready the entire time. Dammit. Maybe ignorance was bliss.

Still, the guy - Garry, his words did make Bounce think. How many times had she seen this? Been struck by little pangs because of it? The searcher. The person out looking for their love or their best friend, to make a confession or to hold them one last time. Victoria and herself were already in the midst of that selfsame plot. It happened over and over again, somehow never getting stale or old, even though it was really a repeat. The outcomes were inevitable. Either there was a joyous reunion, only for one to die in front of the other, or... they never found one another, and the announcement heralded their failure.

"I will," she answered him. "Look... you should move on, quickly. Don't dawdle on our account. You have somebody to look for, somebody to save, perhaps. ...Keep searching. Far better to have closure."

...That's really cold, Bounce. Really, really cold.

Mah Writings
[[I didn't write this part, credit is Jesse Gunn of The Sanctuary. Only posting it cause the subsequent piece requires some context.

...Also it was pretty awesome. On another note, David Sasaki has now won two Sanctuary seasons in a row. ^^]]

Spoiler: click to toggle


Spoiler: click to toggle

One of Three
Seeing Craig squeeze into the building, carrying Trent along with him (Savage, as it happened, but the guy was out like a light so it didn't matter), it... well, it didn't exactly move Rosa, but it made something spring into the forefront of her mind. Hoyle was scared, he was panicked and he was goddamned huge. If the football player, albeit the one whose bulk was more muscle than fat, was so helpless, how the hell were the others going to be getting on? What was Ilario going to do, given this situation? For crying out loud, her brother seemed on the verge of a nervous break down anyway, let alone with people killing each other. Frankie? Jeez, that wasn't exactly any better. She was less of a pussy than Ily, but that also hinged on her not being high.

What the fuck was Rosa thinking? How was holing up going to help? Somewhere out there, on this goddamn island, were the two people that... she cared about most. Beyond that Frankie always mocked her for her... habits. Beyond that Ily was the apple of Junior's eye. In spite of the fact that none of them saw eye to eye on more or less anything and that their personalities were poles apart from each other... They'd been born together. They'd grown up together. They were three and one.

And Rosa had decided to hide. To retreat into herself. Make them search, make them do the work. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. How could she? At that very moment, JJ could be punching Ily's teeth down his throat. Dustin Royal, captain asshole, could be drawing a bead on Frankie's chest. ...And Rosa was fucking around with Craig FUCKING Hoyle!

Rosa gritted her teeth, knuckles whitening as she clenched the TEC-9 tightly. A moment later, it went clattering to the floor, bouncing with the impact as Rosa flung the gun from her. The Fiametta's head snapped towards Vera, daring her to make a quick play with eyes filled with rage. Then, she swung around and stalked into the bedroom, grabbing hold of her bag and swinging it over her shoulder.

Swiftly, Rosa returned to the main room, gaze swinging between Vera and Hoyle. No time for them or any more of this bullshit. They were welcome to the shelter, were welcome to sort out the paranoia between them. Rosa was filled with a new sense of urgency, Craig's blubbering snapping her into the realities of what was happening. Every second burned was another second closer to one of the others coming to harm. Sooner or later, it would happen. That meant Rosa had to find them before sooner could even lace up its boots.

"I have something to do. ...Good luck, I guess. May-" Rosa was cut off by the sound of shattering glass. From the direction, it had to have been the office that Vera already entered by.

Fuck! Just what I don't need!

Rosa spun again, looking for an escape route. Vera might have had firepower enough to be considered capable of driving any would-be attacker off, but it happened that the Fiametta didn't trust the other girl. Rosa wasn't a psychic, which meant a healthy dose of paranoia could only be a good thing.

Swiftly, Rosa's eyes alighted on the back window. With a murmured "Bingo," she made a beeline for it.

Podcast Thread
The length stuff, is perhaps my fault due to my yardstick. I listen to one podcast. Said podcast can be upwards of six hours in total, though broken into halves and with 'segments' in between. Comparitively, it doesn't seem that long to me, so I'm sorry, I guess, about that.

I don't get this attitude of anything negative being called bitchiness or mean. For crying out loud, if we're an advanced RP, the members should be able to take what people AREN'T liking and work off that. Jeez, it's not like anybody, at any point, spoke up on a death and said nothing more than 'This totally sucked and the writer is terrible'. If I'm overly blunt then what can I do? I am blunt in general, I never said a thing in that podcast intended as hurtful or cruel. If I'm being interpreted wrongly, that's another matter. If I'm not very good at making jokes, that's something else.

And finally, well I'm so sorry I can't come up with an interesting array of topics to discuss. I figured that it would be nice to talk about the most relevant issue, which is the stuff around the first announcement, the kills and the deaths. Thing is, I have no way of KNOWING WHAT PEOPLE WANT TO LISTEN TO. I have barely been given input about segments or topics to discuss beyond one or two ideas, and I can't stitch together an entire podcast from two segments, not unless you fancy listening to something about fifteen minutes long.

...I'm sorry if that came across as rant-esque, it just got under my skin a little. I mean, people's comments on the 'cast are great, but I'm not getting a hell of a lot of creative support right now. Maybe somebody else should host it if I'm such a big asshole.

Omar Burton
B043 - Burton, Omar

Check the stickied topic first, then go ahead and submit bids if you're interested and eligible.

Please note Omar has significant ties to Sierra Manning.

Kaitlin Anderheim
G048 -Anderheim, Kaitlin

Check the stickied topic first, then go ahead and submit bids if you're interested and eligible.

Mike Jeffries
B065 - Jeffries, Mike

Check the stickied topic first, then go ahead and submit bids if you're interested and eligible.