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The General SOTF Discussion Thread
Yeah, and I'd also like to jump in and say vocabulary extends to the narrative as well, not just the speech of the character. I have two characters of very different levels of IQ, and so I prefer to pepper the smarter character with larger words and more abstract references in thought pattern, rather than strictly spoken word.

There ain't no more cowboys, only men with violent hearts
Hansel let the silence hang, the rifle pointed at Alex as Carlon bent down towards the corpse, uttering a prayer for him, for Daniel. That one moment almost undid the mask, stripped it away until there was nothing left but a shaky belief and a murderer.

But Hansel reigned it in. Weakness was death, here, and he would not be weak again.

“Well alright, then,” he said, simply.

Pointing the barrel towards the ground at Carlon and Alex's feet, Hansel pulled the trigger, sending a spray of bullets in a wide arc, chewing up grass, dirt, and Daniel's leg as the loud, angry report of the FAMAS exploded into the air.

Naft's Critiques
As expected, stuff's slowing down a bit as I'm not on vacation anymore. I'm halfway through both Ian and Joe, however, so progress is still cookin' along.

Added Meera and Yaz to the queue.

SOTF Grand Map of Doom!
swirlythingy: Solomir and I were having a chat, and he mentioned that your image size problem might be solved if you uploaded as a JPG/JPEG rather than a PNG. Have you tried that?

The General SOTF Discussion Thread
^ Can't agree more!

Project: Wiki
Hey gang!

I'm really liking the challenge that the SotFers have taken upon themselves, commenting on characters as they die. We've had some pretty cool insights. Just a thought here, because I sorta got on my soap box in chat about this;

Please try to stay on the character in question when posting Wiki comments. While I understand that it's necessary to talk about a character's interactions with others on the island, keeping the focus on the character who's page you're commenting on should be the focus of your comment.

For instance, if you're on Sally's page and Sally spent a significant portion of time with Jane, don't start talking about how far you hope Jane makes it because boy, is she swell!

Those sorts of comments - while valuable - belong on Jane's page.

/end rant.


Planning Out Plots in Advance
To contrast MW above (and bear in mind that I'm a super new user myself and don't have any previous experience with SotF) I do plan. But I plan moments, rather than plot arcs, and however they get tied together is where I have flexibility.

For instance, I have a list of characters and Handlers that I'd like to write with in the future for specific reasons. If the opportunity arises and feels natural in a storyline, I'll approach the handler of that character and see if it's cool that we do a scene or something. Because of the nature of SotF, though, planning for an arc is largely hard to pull of, especially when your character may be up for death within the next three weeks.

So yeah. I plan some stuff, but how I arrive at that planning is achieved through just roleplaying my character and seeing what comes up because of it.

And God said, "Man, what are you talking about? I sent you a helicopter and a boat."
Well, wasn’t this interesting. Baxter walked on up, friendly and smiling towards Lydia Robbins and her apparent guard dog, totally nice and open and grinning, and the little shit moves in front of the woman toting a shotgun as if to shield her from him. Like he was about to try and cop a feel or something.

It would’ve been really quite cute, if it didn’t piss him right off.

As if Chase could stop Brandon fucking Baxter if he wanted to get at the girl. The guy was a slip of a human being. Baxter bet that he benched Chase’s weight before practice on a regular basis.

With one hand.

While holding a conversation.

He was distracted from his contemplation of demonstrating exactly how futile the white knight maneuver was by Summer’s hand brushing his bicep, tugging the hammer-sickle-thingydo from his tightened grip. He allowed his fingers to relax and the weapon to slide away, counting to three quickly in his mind and timing the breaths accordingly. Now was not the time to blow his top.

When he was sure he could, he grinned. “No worries, esse, no worries at all. Though I’m curious as to why you’re threatened from that... thing,” here, he gestured back at the weapon in Summer’s grasp, “when Robbins is packing some mundo heat right there.”

He aimed his pearly whites at Robbins, going for a friendly smile. “We came here because the lady wanted a new wardrobe, and who am I to prevent something like that?”

Tilting his head, he beamed back at Summer. “Well, that and I was kinda lacking on better ideas. We’re lucky we ran into two friendly faces, though.”

He glanced back around, watching Rodriguez for a moment, his face a perfect mask of contemplation. “Hey, listen,” he said, shifting closer, eyebrows drawing downwards as he lowered his voice.

“I really don’t mean to be rude, here, but do either of you guys know how to use that thing?”

Baxter gestured towards the shotgun.

There ain't no more cowboys, only men with violent hearts
As Daniel's corpse fell to the dirt floor, the words pretty little headshots floated through Hansel's mind, seeking something - anything - to connect with, but failing. They floated, aimless and directionless as his scattered thoughts tried to focus, tried to see beyond that explosion of blood and bone and brain, beyond the ache in his shoulder and the twitching of his index finger. He still rested his cheek on the guard of his gun, still had the lifeless corpse of Daniel Whitten in the iron sights.

No.

He unfolded himself from his kneeling position, standing at his full, six foot one frame as Nina burst onto the scene, screaming something - sounds, just sounds - in his direction.

He had meant it to be a warning. He had meant to scare Daniel, have him back up, but the gun was too heavy. He couldn't hold it above his head. He couldn't fight the gravity off, and then the trigger had been pulled.

Carlon crashed through the brush behind Nina as Hansel began walking down the incline on which he had been perched, the gun moving to lean over his right shoulder, finger straight and off of the trigger. His expression carefully blank - just like you've practiced, Hansel - pace slow, easy.

Why hadn't he just stopped? The sight of the gun was enough - the sight of the gun had scared Theodore. It had scared Mallory and Adonis. He could've just shown them the gun.

But the gun had enraged Tyler, hadn't it? Hadn't he been attacked over it?


Alex, now. Making sounds, loud sounds at him as his ears rang, his eyes moving to hers as he closed the last few feet, feeling nothing. Nothing but numbness, a blank static prickling that covered his body, his hearing, his vision.

Theodore had shot him without an advantage. Tyler had charged at him without a moment's hesitation. And here he was now, walking towards three people whom could turn on him at once and had the clear upper hand in a fight.

He couldn't afford weakness.

Without conscious input, Hansel's gait turned to a swagger. His left hand came up, tipping his stetson lower over his eyes as he stopped in front of the three, a foot away from Daniel's corpse, eyeing all of them.

When he spoke, the deep voice came out - the voice that he had trained himself to utilize to cover up his stutter and bury his weakness. A familiar retreat inside himself, into his defenses, where nothing could hurt him.

"Reckon this is how it's gonna go," he said, evenly, as the FAMAS was shifted off of his shoulder and into his left hand. Deftly, his index finger switched the gun from semi to automatic.

"Y'all get the fuck out o'here, and I won't shoot ya. I ain't inclined to extend this courtesy more than the one time, so my suggestion's t'make good on the initial offer."

The gun came up, butt against his shoulder.

Hansel narrowed his eyes.

There ain't no more cowboys, only men with violent hearts
((Hansel Williams, Stagecoach, and other vehicles))

There was fire, and there was brimstone.

If Hansel could channel either, he'd have gladly used it in this moment, furiously slapping a spare ammunition clip into his FAMAS, the exhausted one clattering to the forest floor on a muted sound. He slapped his palm onto the locking mechanism, cocking the FAMAS with an angry yank, the chick-chack a satisfying noise, if primal. He had a loaded gun, now. A powerful loaded gun, and he wouldn't be taken by surprise like that again.

Fire and brimstone, he thought again, the rage and terror of the encounter with Theodore, the standoff with Adonis and Mallory, and the brief yet intense chase with Tyler fueling his current blackened mood, overcoming him with a sense of purpose.

For Theodore, he'd have used fire. He'd have lit alight that cocksucking little fuck and watched him burn until the gun melted into his hand and there was nothing but ash. Tyler was too good for fire, though. He'd need brimstone and blunt force, something to cave in that thick skull, stop him dead in his tracks.

To hell with them. To hell with both of them.

Adjusting the duffel bag onto his shoulder, Hansel finally took the time to view his surroundings. He hadn't planned much beyond leaving Tyler, Travis, and the amusement park far behind him, and now that he had achieved that goal, it was time to refocus. If there had been any doubt as to his ability to work with others on the island, that doubt became full on denial now.

He'd been shot, hit with a water bottle, and attacked. Shot when he'd tried to reason with Theodore. Hit with a bottle when he'd asked for extra supplies. Attacked when all he'd been trying to do was patch himself up.

No, Hansel thought grimly, his jaw setting into a hard line. If there was a way to survive this, he couldn't do it with someone - anyone else.

He'd have to go it alone.

Hansel's cursory glance to his current environment revealed some kind of bike trail system, judging by the hardened dirt surfaces and small makeshift jumps. His wound had finally clotted, but with his freshly ripped shirtsleeve revealing his entire arm, it was a noticeable weakness. He'd need to slap another bandage on it.

Which meant finding another medkit. Which meant taking one from a classmate, seeing as going back to the amusement park was completely out of the question, even if he could gather up the doubtless scattered contents.

Hansel swore softly to himself, his right index finger curling around the safety of the FAMAS, clicking it from off to auto to semi and back. The three setting made slightly different sounds, the repitition soothing him even as the pain in his left arm raged and his forearm trembled.

Snick, click, clack, click, snick, click, clack, click, snick.

Okay.

Leaving the small piece of metal hovering over the safe setting, Hansel delved deeper along the trails, both hands on the gun, muzzle pointed towards the dirt because his shoulder hurt too damn much to lift it higher. He'd need to stop and rest, soon, maybe try and sleep in a tree or something, somewhere where nobody could sneak up on him-

There was a boy through the trees.

Hansel immediately dropped low, his right index flicking the safety back to automatic, squinting through the treeline. He had the height advantage, being on top of a decent sized hill with deep tire grooves spattered throughout it. The boy - Daniel, he recognized - was half-facing away, his attention elsewhere.

Over his shoulder was a duffel bag, and in that bag, Hansel figured, was a medkit.

Whatever moral dillema that could've crossed his mind at that point was stamped out by the pain in his arm flaring again as he tried to adjust his hat with his left hand, grunting when it got to shoulder height. He had the advantage, this time. He couldn't afford to lose this chance.

Hansel shrugged out of his duffel bag, got to one knee, and flipped the safety again to semi-auto, figuring he'd only need one shot. One shot, above Whitten's head, just close enough so that the boy would know he meant business. Then snag the bag, take off.

The boy placed the butt of the rifle against his right shoulder, squinted one eye closed as the other glared through the iron sights. He centered Daniel's head in them, then lifted the gun with his trembling left hand, the position making his arm scream in pain, gravity fighting to keep the gun lower. He let out a short grunt, the sights trembling with his aim. Muscles screamed, guilt loomed, pain and anger and fear and frustration and you could be wrong all filling his head and his thoughts and his emotions and-

Hansel fired his warning shot.

The last thing he saw in the iron sights was Daniel's perfectly framed temple.

Naft's Critiques
Adding Ami and Yukiko!

This is really nice, because it gives me a chance to read characters I wouldn't really read otherwise. Keep these coming, I'm biting into Alex King as we speak.

Naft's Critiques
Finished with Theodore. Adding Owen and Sophie as we speak.

Don't worry, Pippin. I don't bite. :)

Naft's Critiques
Garrett's added.

David Zimmer, and R.J Rutherford are done. Bikriki, Un-Persona, you guys have PMs from me.

If anyone else wants a critique, keep pilin' them on. At the rate I'm going, I should have these guys done faster than anticipated.

Naft's Critiques
Thread updated with the new sacrifices kids for review.

Naft's Critiques
Updated! As a note: I've got just about enough to last me through my vacation, possibly a bit later. If you guys don't mind waiting longer, keep 'em coming!

Naft's Critiques
Updating this with the new victims subjects of feedback.

Naft's Critiques
Hey, guys!

As I've mentioned in chat, one of my hobbies is analyzing and talking about writing and roleplaying skills and how I feel they can be improved, and since I've offered critiques of various people's characters thus far, I figured I'd keep my running roster of current critiques I'm working on here.

As a note: I'm going to be operating on a private critique system only for now. This means that when I cross your name off of this list, you'll get a PM from me with the character's cliffnotes. They're fairly extensive for the most part, and I offer things I like about the posts/arc/character, things that I feel can be improved, and things that don't work.

Without further ado, here's the current list of folks. I'm dedicating the first day of vacation (Wednesday) to doing V5 critiques, and any others after this week will likely take me a lot longer.


  • David Zimmer (Bikirikrikrikriki)
  • R.J. Rutherford (Un-Unpy-Persona)
  • Theodore Fletcher (Esssssssssspional)
  • Alex King (Slamexxxo)
  • Ian Williams (Vyse-Presidente)
  • Joe Carrasco (Viola-Medicine)
  • Adonis Alba (Aura Master Fawkes)
  • Maynard Hurst (SansaSavior)
  • Brianna Battaglia (Shangela, ela, ela, ey ey ey)
  • Sharon Elizabeth Austin (slimjimmydalad)
  • Carmina Maliski (Mararararooone)
  • Finn Grant (Will I Am)
  • Megan Emerson (JillSandwich3.14151892381238pielol98344189325713)
  • Katy Warren (Outdoggd)
  • Garrett Cobbler (Sterlone Archer)
  • Sophie McDowell (LaureleruaL)
  • Owen Kay (Pip Pip Cheerio)
  • Ami Flynn (Sealant)
  • Yukiko Sakurai (CondorFlameTalon)
  • Edgar Tolstoff (aristartea)
  • Meera Stele (watcher in broad daylight)
  • Yaz Carrol (Aynjel)
  • Chase Rodriguez (VysePresidente)
  • Rosemary Michaels (MonsieurMadamRandom)


If I've missed someone, deeply sorry - it's been a wild few days.

The Alignment thread V5: Welcome to the Hive
Your finalists, ladies and gentlemen.

Lawful Good: Matt Masters (Aura)
Neutral Good: Sophie McDowell (Laurels)
Chaotic Good: Steven Salazar (MurderWeasel)
Lawful Neutral: Alex Ripley (Kami)
True Neutral: Francis St. Ledger (Pippin)
Chaotic Neutral: Paris Ardennes (Rugga)
Lawful Evil: Miles Strickland (Psych)
Neutral Evil: Veronica McDonald (leAloha)
Chaotic Evil: Travis Webster (Delroy)

The Alignment thread V5: Welcome to the Hive
As fitting as both Candidates are for the title of Chaotic Neutral, I'm going to have to vote Paris by a hair. And I do mean a hair, because I love both of those characters so much.

Since we have an influx of new members, however, I propose that Psych picks a kid and we either switch to the second place category in the one not picked or open the voting on a single category basis.

Sometimes Goliath Has A Point
((Breaking post order to close out this past thread, since it doesn't seem to be moving.))

"Well, whatever," Michael said, grinning at his two friends, "Who wants Ice Cream? Our own Texan here probably hasn't had a Seattle scoop."

"Oh, dude!" Adam piped up, "Hansel, man - you are going to wig out."

Hansel pushed off against the tree, shoved his fingers into his back pockets, and shrugged. "Wow me," he said, smiling slightly.

((Hansel Williams, exit.))