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God Help the Outcasts
The Cassowary's impressive body and instincts might lead one to believe it is fully a predator. It is built like a hunter, to be sure, and it is deadly from crest to claw, but make no mistake: the Cassowary's most dangerous asset is its intelligence. It knows that it does not need to chase some meals. That some will simply be brought to it, or left by those that are more careless, less efficient. The Cassowary is not too prideful for scraps. It can wait for another to make the kill, then take what it can after all that energy has been expended, and it is left stronger than both predator and prey.


Caedyn could live in that mindset. People had to die, but she didn't have to kill them, now did she? Not when they'd stumble over her feet to kill each other. Stupid Jane. Stupid, Stupid Jane. Oskar had some kind of plan, and she was happy to sit back and see where it led. Best case scenario, they took each other out, and she could just walk away without any worries. She'd clean up, refresh, and rinse and repeat. That was the key to this whole thing. She didn't have to think too hard; just let other people's shittiness drag them down until she could go home.

With that in mind, she sat down back in the grass and let the pair talk, throwing Oskar a glance every once in awhile. The occasional bit of eye contact, and a slight nod. Something to reciprocate his little wink, and let him know that she was with him...whatever he did.

She absolutely wasn't. But if that made it easier for him to get it over with, she could give him a nudge.

This Is Not My Country, This Is Not What I Believe
Ty hadn't cried that he could remember in a long time.

Crying didn't solve a damn thing. He got over it pretty quick before the real growing up started, wasn't any place for it in his world. Didn't keep crying when his brother's wouldn't stop fucking with him, even when they hurt him on some level. Didn't cry when his shit got broken, didn't cry when the anger got to be too much and he had to lash out at somebody. Didn't cry when he saw Marcus on the stand and realized how broken, how absolutely fucked each and every one of them was. Didn't cry when Mom's health started to go, or the old man's. Didn't cry when Harry shut his eyes, and it became obvious he wasn't opening them again. Not one fucking tear.

They didn't need him to cry. They needed him to be strong, and numb, and capable, until everything was fixed.

Here's the kicker of it, though: weren't no fixing this. Dead was dead, near as it mattered. He'd like to think that Clarice's outburst drew his attention, made him think and move forward with a plan when he ran to catch her arm and keep her from throwing again. That he was gonna keep them alive, or they'd be safe, or some shit. Wouldn't be honest to think that though. "Stop," he choked out. "You piss 'em off, and..." They were already dead. Did it really matter whether they died now, or tomorrow, or later? Did it make that much of a difference in the grand scheme?

"Don't make me lose you too."

Nah. Not really. But it made a hell of a lot of difference right now.

This Is Not My Country, This Is Not What I Believe
"Give 'em what you can," Ty said quietly. He wasn't even gonna acknowledge what Harry said, because as far as he was concerned it was a fucking lie. He'd lagged, and now his friend was dying. Clear as crystal. Couldn't be more his fault unless he'd stabbed him himself...and given that it was sword that did it, hell, he might as well have. Harry was trying to be nice, but it was just manners. They all knew whose fault it was, and who crossed the line trying to fix it.

They weren't gonna spend what could be his last few minutes arguing, though. No sense in that. It was time to get down to business. That in mind, Ty looked at the wound and his medkit, trying to find something that'd be of use. Might as well have all been alien, though. He didn't know shit about first aid other than "slap a bandage on the spot that's fucked and hope for the best." Weren't gonna cut it here, and he might just hurt him more trying to stumble his way through fixing. Goddammit. Goddammit. If he'd just been a little faster, or a little smarter, or a little something, even just some luck, this wouldn't be happening. But it was, and he was dying. No amount of bullshitting would stop that.

"Hey, Harry," he started slowly. "I...they're recording this, yeah? I'm just thinkin'...if you wanna say something, to your folks or somebody back home..." His mouth felt bone dry. Ty swallowed nervously and caught his gaze. "Might be time."

This Is Not My Country, This Is Not What I Believe
((Ty Yazzie Continued from By The Time You hear The Next Pop, The Funk Shall Be Within You))

Ty leaned over the gurney next to Harry's head. Unless he had to keep an eye on the terrain, he was chattering to him quietly, trying to keep the poor guy up and aware. Lots of questions, lots of engaging shit. Stuff to keep his mind active. He was in the middle of some old wrestling tale when they hit the bell tower. "And could you believe it? Down there on the mat, straining with the big bastard trying to get a decent opportunity, and he just rips it, and I mean rips it loud, like a goddamn gas mower starting. Whaddya do there, man? You remember that one? I think you had that Bucky Beaver fella, or hell, maybe that was Texas, help me remember..." It was just empty talk to keep him going. They could pretend that they weren't here, that he wasn't fucking dying, that Ty hadn't...

They could pretend.

Clarice brought them back to reality though. Sounds like she hadn't found what they were looking for. Panic gripped his heart. Ty wasn't a doctor or anything, but Harry's wound looked real bad, not the sort of thing you slapped a bandage on and took the day off with an aspirin or somethin'. First aid wasn't gonna cut it among them. He wasn't gonna give up though. Harry was worth too much to let that sort of nonsense set in without trying. "Just a scratch," he grunted with forced cockiness, "can't put my main man down that easy, ain't that right Harry? You're a good guy, wouldn't wanna embarrass the team like that." The uncertain half-grin and sweat on his face betrayed how hard he was faking this whole schtick, but maybe it would help. This was how they'd always dealt with thing, with swagger and shitty jokes and confidence. Why should a little thing like dying be any different?

Ty wheeled the gurney into the best light he could find and unshouldered his bag to start digging. There had to be something in this damn thing that could get them out of this. Otherwise, how the hell did anyone get past day one in this place?

By the time you hear the next pop, the funk shall be within you
The hard yank on his shoulder didn't pull him outta the rage at first. It only redirected it. His body twisted with a hard, grim stare set on his face like stone, and started to tense like he'd leap on whoever was threatening them next. Until he caught the eyes looking down at him in horror and realized it was Clarice. That she and Harry were talking to him, pleading for him to stop over Conrad's screams. Where he was, what he'd been doing, who he'd done it to, it all came crashing down on him in a moment., and he tumbled back onto the ground. For a moment, all he could manage was to stare at the ground. "Shit," he rasped weakly, "I didn'...just..."

There were no words for what he'd just done. This didn't have to happen, but he saw what Conrad had done to his friends and it stirred something in him. A real anger that he'd managed to keep a lid on for...fuck, years. Never anything this bad. Nobody had ever gotten hurt like this. This time though...this had happened. It was real. The screaming that wouldn't leave his head was more than enough proof of that. Couldn't think about it. Couldn't look at himself, especially his hands. They had to get out of here. He had to get out of here.

His eyes locked on Harry's wound and he got up to help the big man support himself. He couldn't look him in the eye, didn't want to see the disappointment, or how Harry might react to the shame that was etched into his own face. It was hard to say which would be worse; the disgust, or the pity. He wasn't keen on finding out just yet.

"Clarice," he called out shakily, "ya'll hurt real bad. We need to find somewhere to patch up, fast."

He didn't say a thing about Conrad. Not a goddamn word.

((Ty Yazzie Continued inThis Is Not My Country, This Is Not What I Believe))

Love Wins
((Abby Floyd Continued from Prepare To Burn))

Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. 1st Peter, 5:7.

Rest came on the other side of a broken two way mirror. Her reflection looked twisted in all the little fragments on the ground, especially the large chunk she'd found and was holding in her hand. Something about it felt...She didn't know. It was hard to feel much of anything but cold right now. All she knew is that she couldn't handle this anymore.

Make sure that nobody pays back wrong for wrong, but always strive to do what is good for each other and for everyone else. 1st Thessalonians, 5:15

All she needed was to breathe and relax. Part of her ached for more tears. Part of her ached to give into hatred. It was so powerful, so easy. She could hate Kimiko. She could hate her like she'd never hated anyone in her life. Out of all the people she'd hurt, all the human monsters she'd seen in her time at the shelters, she could hate that scared, quiet girl more than anyone else, and it terrified her. She didn't want to be that girl. Nobody could get hurt at her hands.

The peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians, 4:7.

She was falling from the path of the peacemaker at a wild rate. Even though she knew better, the overwhelming urge to hurt that creature, that murderer, and make her suffer just like poor Cristo had. But he wouldn't want that. She didn't want that. She couldn't live with herself if she did something like that.

Deceit is in the hearts of those who plot evil, but those who promote peace have joy. Proverbs, 12:20.

So she'd isolated herself far, far from anyone she could see for now. Nobody needed to suffer alongside her current mood and any consequences it might have. This was all on her now. it was her duty to handle it.

Turn from evil and do good; seek peace and pursue it. Psalms, 34:14.

This place was vile. Overwhelmingly, terribly vile. Within minutes of waking up it had already turned a nice girl like Kimiko to violence against a helpless friend, and she could feel it trying to change her too. It hadn't even been a day, and she already couldn't think about being around people. Couldn't think too hard about trusting anyone. Might even hurt someone if she was pushed. She didn't want to, but who knew what could happen in the heat of the moment? What was she really capable of?

If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Romans, 12:18.

She couldn't take the risk of finding out. That wasn't a person she wanted to become, or even have to keep fighting. It was too much. It would be easier to just stay away from everyone until this was all over, stay far out of the way and not inflict anymore harm.

You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you. Isaiah, 26:3

She thought of her sister. Her parents. Granny. Her friends. Her coworkers. They all brought a weak smile to her face. They would understand what she was doing. They wouldn't want her to become something like that either. They would know why she wasn't out there trying to save everyone. It had to be understood. She let the glass lower a little as she stared up at the ceiling. "I'll see you all soon," she whispered. "I love you."

What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? James, 2:14.

She thought of Cristo, and breathed deeply. In and out, five times. She was ready to go.

Someone find her there in the corner eventually, curled up with her wrists slashed. Her only hope was that no one found her, no one had to see her that way, until everything was long over. She didn't want her friends to see her this way. In a pinch though, it was better than what she could be come. What they might become. It was better for all of them.

And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away. Revelations, 21:4.

Abby Floyd was going Home.

Abby Floyd: Deceased.

Prepare to Burn
He touched her, and she completely lost it. She thought she was already in a panic, but the weakness of his hand, the way he shook and faded out atop her hand...it broke something in her. At first she could only stare down in horror, until she realized that he wasn't looking at her anymore. His eyes were glassy and empty. He was gone.

She couldn't accept that.

The sobbing picked up as she threw herself on his lifeless body, cradling him up to cry into his chest. There had to be something she could do to save him, all she ever wanted to do was save people, but..."Cris, please," she whimpered softly into his chest. "Don't go...God, don't leave me here, please..."

She had nothing. Not even a prayer. She'd never believed that it worked that way. All she could do was hold him, and cry until she didn't have any tears left. She didn't remember letting go, or getting up, or leaving. By the time she was aware that she'd walked away, his blood on her clothes and their belongings far behind, her mind was barely functional. There was nowhere to go. Nothing to do.

She only had one purpose left here.

((Abby Floyd Concluded in Love Wins))

By the time you hear the next pop, the funk shall be within you
((Ty Yazzie Continued From Thirteen Steps))

Lotta things a man can see and still keep his composure. Where the line runs just depends on the man. Being aware of that line and staying to the right side of it was how Ty kept himself out of trouble these past months. A sharp eye, and a reminder of how disappointed people would be if he crossed it. Made him behave like a better person, all in all. No matter how heavy the temptation, he stayed on his side of the line.

That line stretched out in front of him clearer than ever as he caught up on the scene. On one side, Harry and Clarice sat looking beat to all hell. Harry was in a lot of pain, he could tell that just at a glance. That was his side, taking care of them and fixing whatever the fuck had just happened was his responsibility. 'cept to understand that, he had to glance to the other side. Had to see Conrad there, holding the sword he'd woken up with all shiny and fresh with blood.

Harry's blood.

Suddenly that line didn't look so clear. Weren't much that did. The only thing that rang clear was that Conrad was the problem.

Ty hit him like a runaway freight. Maybe the kid heard him coming, but he didn't care. It was raw rage and adrenaline at this point. All that mattered is that he hit him, made him drop that sword he stole, made his face slam into the ground as Ty straddled his back to keep him down. That was it. Threat contained. Rationally, you could stop here and everyone would be alright as they could be.

Ty wasn't in the business of rationality at the moment, though. When he looked down, he didn't see a threat contained. He saw an animal that had hurt his best friends. There was no way he was every going to let him do that to anyone else again. With gritted teeth, Ty grabbed his left arm and pulled it up behind him at an unnatural angle. He could feel the resistance, and that was all he could feel. All sound and sensation was blotted out by the blood pounding in is head as he pressed against that resistance harder, harder, no matter what verbal or physical struggle tried to invade his space. He wouldn't let up.

He didn't stop pushing until the resistance gave in, and that zeroed in trance popped with the sound of Conrad's arm breaking.

Thirteen Steps
Welp. So much for cozy. Little Miss Creepy decided to saunter in and start talking about death and killing and that was about that. Ty didn't have patience to deal with this without things going hot, and...with at least one gun in the mix, you didn't want things to go hot. Not right now. 'cuz the fact of the matter was, he didn't think she'd do anything. She was just some crazy, selfish kid staring down the barrel for the first time. Probably used to bein' right and feeling like she had everything figured out.

But if she had the guts to actually hurt anyone, they wouldn't be standing around making small talk. She would have just shot Lizzie here out in the hall, and come for Ty and Harry next. Thank god it hadn't happened, but that's how things would have played out if she was a threat. Right now, she was just a little girl talking too big for her own gut. Ty didn't have any patience or care for that kind of nonsense, especially not here, but it wasn't his job to straighten her out. Wasn't his job to look after her, or anybody but him and his. And as it turned out, his was headed out the door.

Ty took a deep breath, shook his head, and followed Harry out. Not their problem. Let it go.

Let it go.

((Ty Yazzie continued in By the time you hear the next pop, the funk shall be within you))

Prepare to Burn
It was wrong.

It was all wrong.

They were supposed to be safe now. They were all good people, they could figure this out and help each other. The rest of this place, the rest of their classmates, that was all clear as mud, but right here? This was supposed to be okay.

People could be terrible, but she'd been awake...minutes. Just minutes. Nobody would go to the dark places they'd seen on screen in minutes. She couldn't believe that. Yet despite her paralyzed disbelief, Kimiko hadn't stayed with them. Abby wanted to stop her as she moved towards the spear, either by just saying something or physically getting in her way. But instead, it was her turn to stand frozen as Cristo stepped up to try and control the situation.

And he got stabbed in the gut instead of her.

The blur of panic overtook her as soon as he fell. She ran to him and fell collapsed to the floor to look his injuries over. If what was stumbling out of her mouth was intelligible, it wasn't on purpose. She didn't have the thoughts to rub together and make anything sensible at. All she had was raw, animalistic desperation that only coalesced into speech as it became clear that there was nothing she could do. "Cris," she gagged, "oh Lord please, Cris, I, I..."

She had nothing. There was no way to make this better. It wasn't even clear if he could still hear her. If he could still be called alive. He wouldn't be for long.

God Help the Outcasts
Either Oskar was flirting with her or he was up to something. She couldn't decide which would be groddier right now. Did he think they were in some kind of pact just because Jane's crazy? What was his goal here? What was weirder is that he thought Jane wouldn't catch on to it.

Maybe she wouldn't. She was pretty stupid. Fuck it.

Caedyn decided to keep quiet and let this play out for now. Oskar wanted to do something, and he wasn't fucking with her, so she didn't care anymore. Let the two of them rip each other apart for all she cared.

Eclipse Phase: Robotic Turtle Edition
What days are you free, normally? My schedule changes week by week thanks to work, unfortunately. However, I my schedule three weeks in advance, so I can plan ahead.
What times are you free on those days, normally? Please use EST. As above, no hard and fast availability. However, I'm not available before 12 P.M. EST Monday-Thursday, or after 1 A.M. EST on those same days due to my class.
What's your experience with tabletop RPGs in general? Played a few, ran a few. I'm most familiar with the Fate, d20, and Fantasy Core style systems, but to be honest my focus as a player tends to be more on the "role-playing" rather than the "game" part of things, so most of my focus tends to be on the universe on the story and making interesting and/or terrible things happen rather than mechanical/rule theorycrafting and system doesn't matter a whole lot compared to flavor for me.
Can you use Discord? Mmmhm!
Can you tolerate a nerd who really likes robots as your GM?
Potential Seizure Warning, Flashy Gif Inside

Prepare to Burn
It was like something out of a horror movie. Utter silence, other than creaking and tapping. She half expected a man in a hockey mask with a hook for a hand to come barreling around the corner, or appear behind them. That would almost be a relief; this could just be some twisted dream.

The light clicked on and she jumped next to Cristo. Once she'd adjusted though..."Kimiko!" All the tension faded out of her with a nervous laugh and a squeeze of Cristo's arm. "Good Lord, girl, you gave me such a fright!" It was just Kimiko. Kimiko wouldn't hurt them, she was nice enough from everything Abby had heard. Now, communication was gonna be a real problem, but...well, they could deal with that. Inconvenience was better than danger. She let go of Cristo and started peeking towards the shelves. "Hey, Cristo, did you see anything in here she could write with? It'd make this a lot easier."

Plush Wants To (Tarot) Read Your Kids!
Reading For: Noah Whitley.

Purpose: Future as an Entertainer.

The Present: Ace of Disks(The Matrix of Earth), Upright. Material gain, productive labor, wealth, prosperity, valued possessions, property.

The Challenge: King of Disks(The Necromancer), Upright. A mature man of determined and patient disposition, capable of great physical industry. Most of his attention and energy is devoted to material matters of a practical nature. Reliable, skillful in mechanical things, usually serious and seldom given to spontaneous frivolous outbursts, he is regarded as somewhat dull by his friends, who nonetheless are glad enough to take advantage of his practical skills.

The Life: The Emperor (Amun), inverted. Instability, false start, impractical idea, lack of foundation, wasted force, initial thrust, penetration, determined purpose, passionate man.

The Root of Reading: The Moon(Hounds of Leng), Upright. Illusion, sterility, danger on the path, hostile environment, traps, pitfalls, hidden enemies, deception, lies, concealment, need for caution.

Past Influences: Ace of Swords(Matrix of Air), inverted. Despotism, wrath, concentrated force, violation, overkill, domination, force for evil.

Future Influences: Two of Disks(Inversion of Earth), Upright. Change, transformation, alternation, cycles, gain and loss, harmonious revolution, ebb and flow, cheerfulness, recreation, rhythm of life, a message, a visit.

Counsel: Knight of Cups (The Monk), Upright. A young man who is calm on the outside but inwardly intense and seething with determination. He likes to keep his purposes to himself and tens to be crafty and subtle. He works for his own ends with ruthless single-minded determination. His complete devotion to his own goals can generate mistrust and dislike in others.

Outside Influences: Eight of Disks(Analysis of Earth), Inverted. Avariciousness, hoarding, meanness, fear of risk-taking, lacking in enterprise, too much attention to small things, low cunning.

Hopes and Fears: Nine of Swords(Despair of Air), Upright.Delay, deception, disappointment, shame, suspicion, suffering, loss, hardship, heartlessness, cruelty.

Outcome: Three of Cups(Abundance of Water), Inverted. Sensuality, excess, carried away, frenetic delight, Epicureanism, indulgence, excess, surfeit, reveling.

Plush Wants To (Tarot) Read Your Kids!
Quick broad note: These questions work best when they're open-ended rather than yes/no. I can re-interpret all the ones submitted so far into that format, but it's helpful on my end to keep that in mind~

God Help the Outcasts

Oh this.

This was fucking adorable.

Between Jane's outburst and Oskar's cutesy innocent routine, she couldn't help herself. What was left of her sobs turned to choking, then sputtering, then outright hysterical laughter. They were just so far up their own asses, trying to act all noble and confident when they were all going to die. As she laughed, she pushed herself up off of the ground and stared daggers at Jane. "That's a great speech Jane. It's really good to see you getting that anger worked up already. Hey, Oskar," she said with a glance in his direction, "How long do you give her before she snaps? A couple days? Couple hours? Maybe a couple minutes?"

What a joke. Did she think she was better than her? That somehow being an angry bitch every day of her life gave her some kind of moral high ground? "Just listen to yourself! Maybe you won't kill anybody," she babbled with clenched fists,"maybe one of the other f-fucking lunatics that's sick of your bullshit will get to you first. Do you have any idea what people said about you? What they thought about the pissy little no talent hypocrite? No, because you never fucking listen!"

She was letting her own anger get the best of her. She had no idea what anyone said about Jane, because it wasn't worth paying attention to. There had to be rumors though. People had to hate her. Just look at her.

Thirteen Steps
Well. Weren't this nice and cozy. Before he could swear and pull his dumb ass back into the room, Harold had cowboy'd out with his sword and made peace with their lurker. So here they were, four kids who seemed to mostly barely fucking know each other, standing around armed in an abandoned mental hospital. Seemed like a hell of a time to have a chat. Why not stumble up to the first people you hear? Why not not mosey out to talk up the girl with the gun? What could go wrong with that?

God, it really was ironic that he'd woken up here. If they got out of this somehow, it was sure to make an alcoholic out of him. He'd made friends with too many trusting people and one of them was gonna get a hole blown through them by the end of the day if they were all out acting like this.

Best not to think about it. It wasn't likely they were all safe, but until he heard otherwise it'd help him stay sane. He cocked an eyebrow at Lizzie's explanation as he reached out to offer a hand to help her up. "That a fact? 'spose there's a first time for everything, then."

Plush Wants To (Tarot) Read Your Kids!
Sep 3 2016, 02:17 PM
Okay, let's try it.

I give you Noah Whitley. I ask you this: if Noah wasn't abducted for SOTF, what would his life be like if he pursued a career as an entertainer?

If I asked that wrong, I'm sorry.
Nope, that works great! And a reminder that I need to make a queue. Would you like the read posted here, or in PM?

Plush Wants To (Tarot) Read Your Kids!
Hey folks! I thought this might be a fun little artsy project that some people might enjoy. I've recently been getting really into doing tarot reads and I'm trying to get better at memorization of all the intricacies of the cards. So I figured it might be fun to set up some reads for SotF kiddos, and if it ends up being a thing people enjoy I'll probably do more! If it sounds like something you're interested in, let me hit you with a couple things:
The Disclaimer

The Method

I'll summarize here at the end: Hit me with both your kid and the concept/open-ended question you want me to read about them either here or through PM, and specify whether you'd like your read posted in the thread or delivered via PM. With that out of the way, let's have some fun :3

The Q_Q with the Pew Pew