Author Topic: 「 spill your emotions right into my hands 」 — mandatory meeting 2.3.2019  (Read 183 times)

Offline hayley

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☁  she was tense.

anyone who looked at the twenty-three year old as she strode into the cafeteria that evening could see the tension flooded throughout her body, jaw clenched, muscles taut. jackson scurried along behind her, cradling hope in one arm, a concerned look in his eyes as he regarded the brunette, who looked as though she was on a war path. earlier that very same day, they'd found the body of one of their own murdered, and hayley was intent on ensuring she'd be the last.

❝meeting, now.❞ she called out, tone hard as she stepped onto the table with ease, glancing about. brown curls were still damp from the snow outside, and it was evident that this had been her first stop after the burial. several npc's had already spread word about the meeting earlier, informing everyone that this one was mandatory. hayley needed everyone to hear what she had to say.

❝earlier today, i found the body of one of our own dead, murdered on this very mountain.❞ she said, arms crossing in front of her. ❝she was newer, and i don't know who killed her. it might have been a targeted attack at the group, she might have had enemies from her past. she was robbed, so it might have just been someone who wanted what she had. the why doesn't exactly matter, the point is that she's dead, and she very well could have been any of us. i don't care how tough you think you are, how much of a badass, at the end of the day everyone one of us bleeds, and i refuse to bury another one of you.❞ there was a look in her eyes, a fire, a fury that resembled that of a mother bear, charging to protect her cubs. perhaps it was the hormones from the very recent pregnancy, perhaps it was a blanketed maternal instinct, but it was obvious that one of her cubs had been harmed, and she was ready to fight for it.

❝i don't want anyone, under any circumstances, leaving this building unarmed. i don't care how much of a pacifist you are, how you'd rather die then ever harm someone, if you don't prioritize your life then prioritize others. we have people here who are injured-❞ her gaze shifted to lucio almost subconsciously, the man having arrived half-dead ❝-and there's a baby who can't even hold her own head up. i expect anyone who is a resident or above to be armed, and if you're unfamiliar with how to work a weapon, come talk to jackson or i. knives are bare minimum, but we have some extra guns in the armory, and i have some extra shotguns for whoever wants one.❞ it was her weapon of choice, and frankly, she'd prefer to see most people wielding them. they were... effective.

❝next, i want someone posted on the roof at all times. we only have a couple of rifles, but whoever's up there is to wear some layers, and bring one on up there. if you see anyone who isn't a member of the lodge approaching, tell them to stop. if they don't, shoot.❞ she glanced around, and in that moment caught jackson's eye. he gave her a look that seemed to say you want them to kill? and immediately backtracked a bit. ❝i'm not asking any of you to kill anyone, posted on the roof or just armed on patrol. i will never ask any of you to take a life. aim for legs, arms, shoulders, even. it'll hurt like a bitch, but it's not often lethal, not compared to a head or chest shot. we're not the badlands, we're not a bunch of killers, but the fact that we don't kill or harm others for sport should never mean we're not capable of protecting ourselves, or this home.❞

she let the words hang in the air for a long moment, swallowing back the urge to break down. she wasn't sure why this death affected her so much; she'd lost people all her life, she hadn't even known this woman. but some part of her felt like she'd failed the woman, failed to protect her. if she couldn't keep grown adults safe, how could she protect her own child?

she let out a shaky breath, adrenaline pumping through her veins. ❝on a less gruesome note, i'd like to welcome lucio, holly, and jay. welcome to flintlock, please stay warm, and if any of you need additional coats, we have, like, a million in the closets by the front door.❞ running her teeth across her bottom lip, her eyes shifted about the room. ❝i'd also like to ask tomorrow to step up to representative, if you'd like, and brendan, i'd like to offer you the position of senator.❞ now, onto the normally uneventful part of the meeting that she... somehow felt would be a little busier tonight.

❝any questions or comments about anything we went over?❞

- an npc was killed. hayley doesn't know who did it, but it doesn't matter. what does matter is that she doesn't want anyone else dying, so from this point forward everyone is required to be armed at all times.
- she's giving away free shotguns, which pretty much means i'm giving away free shotguns. these can only be used for your flintlock character, but just let me know as an ooc note in your post if you'd like one!
- there's a new post available, if you ever want to note your character working it. at all times, someone is supposed to be stationed on the roof, armed with a rifle. i'll be sending the rifle item from the shop to the flintlock guide account, as it's "flintlock's rifle", but if you ever write someone working the roof shift, they'd have the rifle! however, under no circumstances can a character take the rifle away from the roof; it would simply be passed on to whoever takes it next.
- welcome to @lucio, @holly, and @jay!
- she sent out a friendly little note to everyone to stay warm, and there's a bunch of extra coats in the closets by the front door, so no one has an excuse to not be bundled up.
- @tomorrow was offered the position of representative, and @brendan was offered the position of senator.
- anyone with questions or comments should speak now or forever hold their peace.
make your girlfriend mad tight, might seduce your dad type


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    twenty-four  |  female  |  wanderer  ▴▴▴
Holly listened to the woman quietly from her seat at a table, blanket still wrapped around her from earlier this morning. Someone had been killed... Fuck, Holly thought, pushing her hair out of her eyes with a pale hand. Fuck, that could have been either of them... She pulled the blanket around her as her eyes wondered back down to the table. She'd have to be more prepared if this place could go under attack at any time; if she found her sisters and had to defend them. She looked back up at the woman. Holly didn't know her, not well, but this was more important, "If you don't mind, I'll take you up on the offer of a shotgun."

Grant it, Holly didn't know how to use a shotgun. She'd always preferred the pocket knife she carried that her father gave her. After all, it was the weapon she'd had for as long as she could remember. But she also doubted it would do her much good if she couldn't get up close to an attacker. Unless she wanted to throw it, but that's a shitty idea.

The last thing on her mind right now, however, was having attention drawn to her. So when the woman mentioned her name with a few others who were new to the Flintlock Lodge she cringed internally, there goes a semblance of peace of mind, she thought with a sigh. But it was to be assumed that new folk had to get acquainted at some point if they were gonna stay here. Not that Holly planned to do that. She had to fix her mistake.

((if i could get a shotgun for holly, that'd be great :3))

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« Last Edit: February 04, 2019, 12:29:35 PM by HOLLY A. WESTFALL »
Looking for Holly's biography? It's here, on her account profile!

Offline tomorrow

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Tomorrow hadn't been there to see the body, or hear about the death. Hearing the words announced by Hayley rattled him; someone had come up the mountain and killed one of their own, just like that? Anybody could be next; it could be one of the children or teenagers, or Hayley or anybody else. He felt like he couldn't breath for about thirty solid seconds as it sunk in, and he nodded to Hayley's new rule about staying armed.

He always kept his machete on him, but that wouldn't do anything against someone with a gun unless he got the drop on them. He'd have to check Flintlock's arsenal for a proper weapon; he didn't want a shotgun, it was too messy with the bullets and he wanted something more precise, potentially something he could hunt game with if needed.

Tomorrow glanced at the new joiners, offering them all a shaky smile. "It's not always this bad, promise." Tomorrow said softly. Flintlock had been relatively calm up until now, he hoped this wasn't the start of more violence.

"I... Yes, of course. I'd be happy to take up the position, Hayley." Tomorrow said softly, surprised at being offered a higher position. He supposed he'd been around for a while, but he'd always been temporary; maybe it was the adrenaline of the situation, maybe he wasn't thinking correctly, but he'd do his best in his new position. Brendan also got promoted, which wasn't too surprising considering how much Hayley trusted Brendan.
'cus it don't make a difference anyway
tags - 26yrs - 6'1 - he/him - representative of fl

Offline mickey

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— Something was up. That should’ve been obvious to anyone as hayley strode into the cafeteria- as jackson followed behind her with a look of worry that only came from a partner terrified of their fireball girlfriend. He’d heard about the meeting, though never had he truly understood the severity of the situation. However, when it came to murder, he supposed that warranted for such a response.

In his mind, he instantly wanted to blame himself. Death seemed to follow him wherever he went. Sure, it couldn't have possibly been his fault, he hadn’t been anywhere near the death, the murder-- but it was all in his head, a prison that he couldn’t escape. Though, this time around, it seemed like he could at least try and help prevent more deaths. Working the post seemed like a great idea, and something that’d be right up his alley.

“i can be the first posted on the roof,” he offered, locking eyes with that fiery, determined mama-bear gaze of hayley’s and giving a nod of his head. He hadn’t really done anything to prove himself, yet- might as well try and start somewhere by being posted on the roof. He was sure that on most days it wouldn’t be an eventful shift, but he had always either spent his days patching people up or spent them aiming a gun and shooting-- this couldn’t be the worst job.

//hello mick + shotgun pls


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(( this is so late wow ))

death certainly isn’t an unfamiliar concept to Brendan, but at the same time, it’s still——frightening. His parents have died what seems like a long time ago, nearly two years, and there have been countless murders that have occurred in the badlands raid a little over a year ago. In a world like this, death is a big possibility; while Brendan doesn’t think of it often, a part of him does realize that he’s a little more...susceptible, he guesses, to death. (A part of him is wondering why he wasn’t killed when he was kidnapped by the very man that killed his own parents, but...that’s a different story.)

Needless to say, one must learn to fight in this world, and Brendan at the very least knows that. Now, he isn’t a fan of knives or guns (especially guns), so when Hayley mentions that she expects to see everyone armed with at least a knife, Brendan cringes a little. He—he’s fine with his staff, he thinks, isn’t he? Frowning and narrowing his eyes, the fourteen-year-old exhales as his arms rest on the table in front of him; Fine, whatever. He’ll carry around a fricken...pocket knife or something, but he strongly doubts he’s gonna use it.

The meeting moves on from there, and Hayley quickly announces that she also expects to see guards on the roof at all times——with rifles. If rifles weren’t a part of the equation, Brendan honestly wouldn’t mind chilling on the roof, but...with yet another sigh, the teenager darts his attention to the empty plate in front of him in pure boredom. The meeting draws on, with Hayley welcoming newer members and eventually promoting tomorrow and—him?

Looking up, Brendan blinks at Hayley, expression blank. Huh. He kinda doesn’t remember what a fricken senator is,, he guesses. Anyways, as Hayley finishes her long, drawn out speech, Brendan hesitates, his brain going back to the...murder.

"I think the badlands it," he pipes up, his tone of voice stern.

After all, who else would? It all apparently happened not too long after the badlanders have supposedly left flintlock; for all they know, maybe they decided to kill someone, just to...Brendan doesn’t fricken know, get a point across or something. Ugh
i wanna be ten feet tall, i wanna grow big red horns
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