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IC order if it's blatantly obvious (i.e. two deaths following each other), OOC otherwise. It's easier to handwave a time than a date, and it discourages some bad behavior/nitpicking.

Characters who've never met?
I'm a bit unsure of the math there, since it depends on class size, number of classes taken, etc. It's important to remember that Aurora students are taking at least 6-7 classes per semester, which comes out to approximately 56 classes (assuming 7/semester) over their school career. Just eyeballing that, with a class size of 200, your math suggests that students statistically will share classes with only a third of the school, which does not seem likely at all to me. In fact, that's 25% as many classes as there are students.

V5 Third Rolls
Sounds fine to me.

What's up, Dock?
Lydia heard, but she did not want to believe. It was too much, too crazy, too painful. It raised too many questions.

So she had a purpose, and it wasn't just to be gunned down, but what made her so special? How was she different from any of those eight? How was she different from the five who had killed? She could tell herself, again and again, that it was wrong to kill, and it was, but what had driven them to such an action? What temptation could have led them to such a path?

How long until she, too, felt it?

Her eyes were closed, but her breathing picked up, air coming through a series of small, choked out sobs. It wasn't right, but it wouldn't change, and that was strange because there was someone out there who could put an end to all this.

It was not Lydia's place to question, this she told herself again and again, but there were questions out there, questions that almost felt like they were being asked of her, and Lydia had no answers within her.

She rocked, twice, back and forth on the cool floor, and tried to keep from crying.

V5 Third Rolls
Granted; you can have the duration of your Away as added time.

Now I'm radioactive! That can't be good!
"Alright, then," Adam said. "The woods it is."

So they were all in accord, because no way did he feel like staying here, and the woods would be awful and dirty and nasty but that was something Adam was a tough enough guy to deal with without complaint, and it meant that they'd need to find shelter again before too long, which would be a great reason to move again. That was what they all wanted, it seemed, to keep that momentum going and gather no moss.

Adam rolled his shoulders, shifted his pack, checked that everything was in order. It was. Everything was fine, and so it was time to go.

Just as soon as the others were ready. He'd been ready to rock and roll since he'd sat down, and they probably weren't quite so prepared.

New League of Legends Thread
Hahaha, I'm mostly kidding too. I can play either super cautiously or super riskily, but I have a very hard time hitting a middle ground.

New League of Legends Thread
Wait, tower dives aren't serious?

I kinda feel like all my favorite strategies are special brands of terrible.

SotF Murdercast
It's still so weird every time I realize I probably don't count as a new handler anymore. ><

New League of Legends Thread
So, in a game today, we went 57/93/52. And won. Soundly.

The enemy team was so afraid to push, despite pretty much winning every single dust-up, that we were able to basically conga-line champions at their nexus until eventually it went down. They broke two of our turrets total. The game lasted like an hour and ten minutes, and by all rights they should have swept us at about 40. They probably could've walked in without a single minion and wrecked us, they were that fed. But they never moved independently, and thus got screwed over hard the second we pushed multiple lanes.

The worst thing is, I've seen this basic pattern before. Is there, like, some special reason some people seem to be allergic to actually pushing?

The two people in the distance were Paulo and Becca
It was a testament to the degree to which Steven cared about the others that he didn't cut into their rants and lectures, because in an awfully short span of time they managed to stoke the embers of anger into a conflagration of rage. It was the little things that hurt and twisted, the things they took for granted.

So Ian thought that the terrorists wanted them to go after the killers. That was a fair and logical point, and probably true. And so maybe in this situation, someone with the terrorists so obviously on the brain would leap straight to their desired conclusion and assume that stopping the killers could only be synonymous with ending their lives. It was a stupid assumption, but not an unfathomable one, and so Steven did not begrudge Ian his misunderstanding.

So Ian wanted to gather people and wait. Maybe that would work, if someone came to save them. Maybe it would keep them all safe. But it sure as shit would not actually make a difference. Hiding was something that people could do fine on their own, and hiding did not solve any of the root issues at play. It did not increase their chances of being saved, and it did not do anything for the vulnerable, for those with nobody to protect them.

So Cyrus thought that the deaths had saved the lives of the rest of the class, and somehow that made things, not better, but no, really, Cyrus was saying it made them better. Because, hey, tough shit for all those dead people, but thank God it's not us dead, yeah? Thank God we can hide in this place and pray for our rescue and maybe collect some other people to do the exact same shit so we feel like we're involved.

So Sharon thought that the killers would get killed. She thought maybe that made things better now, because, hey, they sealed their fates when they started killing, might as well throw 'em under the bus and let them bleed out so everyone else could live another day. That's what was really important, scrambling for those last little moments like pigeons for crumbs or desperate homeless for a handful of loose change.

So Sharon thought they could use other people to prolong their own existences. So it wasn't the best plan, but at least they could survive, because that's what mattered. That was all that mattered to everyone, and somehow they couldn't see it, couldn't see that that was the exact same thought pattern that created the killers and couldn't see that it was a booby prize.

So Karen Idel was outside, and she didn't look like she was trouble, but they were battening the hatches anyways just in case, had a whole plan set up so that they could deal with her, dispose of her if she was a threat, and never—never they promised—never would Steven be in any danger, God forbid he be in danger. God forbid he risk his life here, because they had to survive, that was the Alpha and the Omega and man, fuck anyone who got in the way of that.

So fuck Karen Idel, and fuck all those kids out there killing, and fuck anyone who wasn't useful or didn't at least have the sense to shut the hell up and sit quietly while they all waited for their miracle.

So, now, fuck Steven, because his conscience wasn't good at shutting up and he had spent his life learning to pull the wool from his eyes and he'd learned to read between the lines. He'd learned to ask the right questions, and he'd asked them now, and the answers were as ugly as any he'd ever turned up.

They were Steven and Sharon and Ian and Cyrus and now maybe Karen. They were trapped on an island in the middle of nowhere, and more specifically they were holed up in a nasty mansion. It was mid-morning, and today was probably Thursday back in Seattle. They were, all of them in their class, to fight to the death, and they were, the four or now maybe the five of them, to hide out until all other options exhausted themselves.

But why?

Because. Because authority and biological imperatives conspired to thwart all things good and right in this world, and Death rode unchecked when no good man would stand and face him, knowing all the while that he would be cut down. Because they'd all given up, thrown away bright presents in the hope of maybe facing some dull future.

Steven tried not to break promises, he really did, but sometimes things didn't work out. Sometimes he made too many promises, and had to decide which to keep, and such was the case now.

"Sorry, guys," he said as he stood. Straightening, he felt a weight lift off his shoulders, a shiver run up his spine.

"I think you're wrong. I've been thinking a while now." And he had, because what else had he been doing but allowing his anger to ferment, to age and mature? He had said not a word while the others spoke and left and scouted and played house, not since his initial declaration, and yet all they had done was steel his resolve. Sometimes it was haste and hurt that spoke the truth, and even wisdom could recognize that.

"You can stay here, if you want, and maybe it'll keep you safe. Maybe you'll get rescued. I hope you do.

"I don't think we're going to be saved, and I can't walk away when my classmates are out there tearing each other apart. So I'm going to stop them. It's like I said: you can't hide from this, can't avoid being changed by it, so you need to make sure the changes are for the better. And if we're all going to die, I'd rather we not die like dogs. Seems a worthy enough cause to me.

"You can come if you want. No obligation."

So Steven stood and lifted his bag and his chair leg and he turned and got going, out a side door because he'd helped them barricade things and knew which one was the least heavily fortified, which would take the least time for them to replace if they wanted to bury their heads in the sand and survive. It wouldn't take him by Karen Idel, maybe through her field of vision, but he wasn't worried because he knew the names of those who'd killed and Karen Idel wasn't one of them.

More than could be said for five of their classmates. And however much he'd appreciated his cassettes and his notepad, Steven still had a reporter's mind, could still reel off a half-decent summary of an interview on memory alone, and he never forgot a name.

And there would be more than those five, he knew, a never-ending stream of anger and desperation and pain and that primal urge to survive, but what good was a task with an ending? What worked for Sisyphus would work for Steven.

((Steven Salazar continued in Messiah, Complex/Eat Your Heart Out, B098))

V5 Third Rolls
Three days, twenty-two hours, and thirty-five minutes for deaths.

SotF Murdercast
Oh man, I have so much to say on that one. And a lot of it, I think, is stuff that might actually surprise people.

SotF Murdercast
I have a Skype handle and probably access to a semi-passable mic. I'd love to finally get in on one of these.

The Talkies
Warning: this post contains a lot of examples drawn from stuff I've written 'cause I'm too tired to dig up other people doing it too and I think examples help the context.

I actually get GMing permission for truly obnoxiously long speeches. It annoys me when people pull them on me, though I have a bag of tricks for dealing with it. There's a reason it is the first example of an annoying no-no in the original passive GMing spiel TM.

A thing I've had luck with is writing a boatload of dialogue in chat and then integrating it into a post or two.

As to naturalistic dialogue, I love it. My kids stumble over stuff all the time, and as long as it's not P-p-p-p-porky P-p-p-p-p-pig level stuttering it's not a real nuisance to read. In fact, I'd love more ums and uhs and less stuttering in general, as they're just more common in real life.

As to threads, yeah, be aware.

I've got more, but maybe for later.

SOTF Grand Map of Doom!
It could always be worse.

SOTF Grand Map of Doom!
A successful escape attempt is... we'll put it at highly unlikely (given the lack of outside aid potential and tightened security as well as the new, tougher rules). As to areas, technically they can have as many characters as are there, so Interstice could get even huger. It's just a horrible nightmare to read threads that are massively overcrowded.

SOTF Grand Map of Doom!
Eh, the chronology will be what it will be and what it always has been. V5's an absolute breeze compared to every version that's come before, actually, since handlers are making an effort to keep chronology both overall and in-scene. In V1-4, often it would be one or the other, leading to ten minute conversations spanning three announcements or to characters getting screen time only once every three days.

V5 Third Rolls
That's well past card time.

Six days, seven hours, and forty-seven minutes for deaths.

Official V5 Away Thread
Handler: MurderWeasel
Dates Away: July 27, 2013 - August 17, 2013
Days Away: Twenty-one
Reason for Away: Moving across the country, finding a new job and house, starting grad school
Characters: Adam Morgan, Steven Salazar, Lydia Robbins, assorted folks home in Seattle

So, as I'm sure a lot of you have heard, I'm moving. This is gonna be a huge change, and a ton of work. I will likely be back well before my worst-case estimate here, but since I cannot 100% guarantee it I'm high-balling my guess. I'll try to pop by whenever I can, but will likely be totally absent until at least August 1st.