humiliatious | Amphitheater Multiverse: The Wastelands

Entry tags:

Amphitheater Multiverse: The Wastelands

Amphitheater Multiverse

The Amphitheater is a mysterious place. It's in the space of a blink that you appear outside one of its many entrances. You're beckoned inside, taken to the center, where the showrunners assign you a role. Another blink, and you're no longer surrounded by rows of crowded seats. The crowd and cast have disappeared. Whatever role you were given, that is your life now, even if only for the duration of the performance. Be careful, though. It's easy to get lost in the role you were given. It's not uncommon for performers to forget who they are.

Performance: The Wastelands

It's a scenario which has fascinated since the very inception of story-telling: What happens after the world ends? It seems that's what's occurred here. Shops and houses are left empty of life, looted of supplies. Strange, mutant plants grow wrap around buildings and overtake forests, which infected animals slip out of to attack. Towns are less so towns, and more so guarded fortresses which only allow certain individuals in and out. Supplies are scarce, and trade has devolved into a bartering system. Camps of survivors are scattered throughout the countryside and abandoned villages, with some bigger groups splitting up into factions. Infighting is common, as well as altercations between groups. The world has become temperamental, anxious, everyone always prepared to attack. Those affected by the mutation find it even harder to survive every day, met with a whole host of biological and social obstacles. Everyone's goal is to survive. What role will you play?

Dramatis Personae

scavengers & survivalists

Scavengers and survivalists survive on their own as best as they can. They are loners who travel from settlement to settlement, trading supplies they've found before moving onto the next place. Some prefer to live off grid entirely, and only interact with others when passing in their travels. Others hide away in cities and towns, away from the eyes of the factions that govern them, stealing what they need. Generally, these types believe that others will slow them down, and are concerned more with their own survival than anything else, which makes them poor companions.

leaders

The world as all knew it may have ended, but so long as there are people still alive, they will need leaders. One might lead a small settlement with only a handful of people, merely interested in surviving. Instead, one might be the leader of a powerful faction in a major fortress city, with hundreds at your command. There are religious leaders, as well, which devotees follow faithfully in all that they do. Whatever the case may be, the leader is, at the end of the day, someone responsible for the wellbeing of the many others that depend on them.

traders

Traders are apocalypse-made merchants who survive by collecting and selling items between settlements. Some of these merchants travel, moving from settlement to settlement and providing goods for travelers on the road, and some reside in settlements, providing goods for the town. They may sell anything from rations to weapons to medical supplies, and generally tend to have good relationships with leaders, due to their many connections. They are good salespeople, exceptionally clever with words, and may convince you to leave with something you don't need, or give them something you do.

the affected

No one is quite sure what caused animals, plants, and people to all start changing - why some are affected, and others aren't - but some strange mutation took hold after the world came to an end, rendering some something between human and beast. They are not mindless, and they are not hungry, but they have been known to attack - transform into monsters which blindly lash out until their prey has been disposed of. This only happens when they are provoked, however...

hunters

Some believe that the affected must be disposed of, studied, or otherwise detained until an explanation for their condition can be found. There are a few leaders, both religious and otherwise, who claim to be researching a cure for the strange affliction. They hire hunters to find the affected and bring them to their headquarters. Other hunters have more personal reasons for wanting to seek out the affected and dispose of them.

devotees

In times of great crisis, such as these, people find themselves desperate for a guiding light to follow. Devotees pledge themselves to leaders, objects, gods, etc., and follow them dutifully no matter what they're asked to do. Some religious factions condemn the affected, while some celebrate and welcome them, and others still that want to research them; likewise, there are some factions that welcome anyone, some that only welcome allied factions, some that welcome no one. It all depends on what one has decided to devote themselves to - the point is, they're devoted.

OOC

Hello! Welcome to Amphitheater Multiverse, inspired by former game 7Dead's AU/amplitheater premise. Essentially, characters enter a magical amphitheater that is holding a performance (this time it is "The Wastelands," a post-apocalyptic story), and they are cast in roles. This transports them to the setting of the "play" - essentially one big collective AU you can TL and play in (your characters can either be aware they're in a play, completely lost in their roles, some combination thereof, etc.). You can play out multiple roles/enter & exit the amphitheater more than once.

Please follow basic DWRP etiquette, don't be a jerk, use CWs in subject lines/read them. Play anyone you want - canon characters, OCs, fandom OCs, AUs, CRAUs, etc., etc. This event is open for anyone to play. You do not need to know me or be on my plurk list or anything like that. If you have any questions, please direct them here, or hit me up on plurk at

pantheraliam (just note that I don't add people unless I know them). Have fun, be safe o v o;;

Threaded | Flat

ask 'em here! whee!

something important
Looking for this?

[Recently, you lost an item. Maybe it’s sentimental, or just plain useful; either way, this teenager is pointing to it with a nail bat. You’ve been summoned to a quiet place, and whether you’re all mask and muscle or a shrinking twig, Aubrey’s watching you with her chin lifted and a challenge in her stance. She hasn’t pointed her bat at you, although you get the impression she wouldn’t hesitate.]

You can have it back—but show me what you got, first.

in search of peace
[There’s a sanctum not far from here. Its quiet isn’t often disturbed—but here you are, and here’s a crash into hello! Aubrey trips directly into your path, headband-bow askew, out of breath.

[She scrambles back—but not from you. There’s a red stain on her forearm, and her glare is fixed on the trail behind her. Something, or someone, follows. Would you like to intervene?]

wildcard/footnotes
(ooc: Left prompts deliberately vague; fill in the details as you wish. Non-prompt starters also welcome. Surprise me!
(Lost in the Role Sauce rating: 3.75 of 5, more into it than not. Aubrey had a several-month stint in labyrinthum; feel free to request the CRAU version for more familiarity with fighting, bloodshed, and behavior-altering jamjar shenanigans.)

optional AU blurb

Even if you’ve never heard of the once-wealthy Kiramman family, you may know of their daughter. After disappearing under mysterious circumstances, she made her own name as a hunter for hire, one of the best snipers on this side of the wastes. It seems Caitlyn has never met a target she couldn’t fire. But her true objective, to public knowledge, has proven difficult to pin. What is she hunting for…?

(ooc: I include this upfront because this character’s whole deal, in canon, is being an Important Figure. Her reputation often precedes her. That said, feel free to ignore it! Caitlyn is used to being Known and Competent, and she’s less guarded when she is neither of those things.)

we(?) can protect you
[Are all affected dangerous? You’re surrounded either way, a pack of beasts circling like sharks to blood. Maybe you’ve got it taken care of, or you could use a little help—

[Bang! No matter. Bam! If there are four, it takes four; six, eight, more, one bullet per skull. The enemy is down in seconds.

[But you’re not safe yet, are you? At the source of the gunfire, the shooter has an eye on you. The rifle hasn’t lowered. Yet, for whatever reason… she’s hesitating.

[You’ve got one shot. Make your case.]

small talk, actually
[It’s nicer when the gun works for you, isn’t it? Whether at the behest of a leader or some other circumstance, you are flanked by a Caitlyn acting as your guard. Her rifle’s sweep across every step, to say nothing of her own grim silence, may or may not be a comfort. Points for focus, at least.

[Then you stumble upon an odd fixture in the dirt.]

Right. [Caitlyn circles it.] That’s one way to mark the spot.

[Is… is that supposed to be a joke…?]

wildcard/footnotes
(ooc: Left prompts deliberately vague; fill in the details as you wish. Non-prompt starters also welcome. Surprise me!
(Lost in the Role Sauce rating: 6/5 catastrophically gone. Same mun as headhooligan above, and voicetesting this one. The rest of my muselist is also on the table, on request.)

--1. scavenger

[ The pharmacies have been picked almost clean at this point, but it seems you're in luck. That one item you need -- medicine, bandage, tourniquet, supplements, whatever else -- is sitting right there on the shelf a few paces away. You reach for it -- ]

[ Before you can grab it, though, a hand snatches it from the other side of the shelf, and you might meet a pair of grey eyes for a moment before the other person makes a run for it. ]

[ It would probably be best to let him go -- but you really need the supplies, whether for yourself or someone else. ]

[ Trying to pursure him through the side door, however, will likely land you in a headlock with a knife pressed against your jugular... or, depending how tall you are, some other easier accessible lethal spot, like the stomach or the inside of your thigh. ]

What do you want from me?

[ The voice sounds hoarse from disuse.]

--2. leader (sort of)

[ Perhaps you noticed some signs of life in this part of the woods -- a well that's covered in leaves and branches but looks too clean to be abandoned, perhaps a dropped fruit or tool somewhere, maybe some footsteps. ]

[ Maybe that's why you've followed that faint trail deeper into the woods -- whatever your intentions are. Maybe that's how you find yourself coming to what looks like a small settlement of some sort, a camp more like, up ahead. And hopefully you're sharp enough to notice that thin wire stretched across the path, or that weirdly fresh looking mound of dirt. ]

[ Maybe you happen to kick a rock or a branch into it, whether intentionally or by accident, in which case, roughly two seconds later, there's a loud explosion and you're probably knocked on your ass by the explosion that appears to come from a hole ass landmine some steps ahead. ]

[ A moment later, you're at the end of a rifle. The guy holding it looks... not great. Like he hasn't slept in months, and there's dirt or blood smudged on his face and what appears to be some sort of a military or ranger uniform. ]

Turn around now.

[ And there's eyes in the foliage. Small ones, watching you. Too close to the ground to be merceneries, too curious to belong to creatures. ]

[ Kids. ]

[ Suddenly the secludedness makes more sense. This must be a tough job for who seems to be just one guy. ]

--3. hunter

[ Somehow, Levi has gotten his hands on a working motorbike. It doesn't seem to run on fuel (ask for details from the resident mad scientist who's apparently friends with him), but whatever it is, it's allowed him to quickly cover distances between outposts and hostile territory for years at this point. ]

[ He hasn't failed to collect a mark yet, either. There's some talks of those not willing to pay him for his work ending up with their throats slit, but it's probably just crazy rumors. It's not like The Ripper was real, either. ]

[ Are you a buyer or a target? ]

--4. wildcard

[ surprise me! levi could also possibly work as one of the afflicted (ackerstuff...) or remain in roughly the same roles but have different scenarios. he's most likely full-in into the universe and unaware that he's playing a role. other than that i'm pretty much down to clown with this haha. ]

[It's just like every zombie movie you've ever seen. Kel's arms are out in front of him, his eyes rolling back into his head until only the whites are visible. He moans and groans, ambling forward, step by labored step.]

Uraouughharraughhouuu...

[Zombies sound exactly like this--]

Except, I don't think they're actually zombies. [Oh. He's upright now, eyes forward, speaking completely normally.] Isn't "effected" spelled with an "e"? What's "a"-ffected. Affection?

[A little gasp - realization.] They're in love.

((ooc: this is my only TL for Kel, but I'm dying for Kel threads, so if you want to do smth else, hit me up at

pantheraliam to discuss >:3c))

Edited 2025-04-06 16:45 (UTC)

--1. leader

[ This wasn't quite planned. ]

[ He'd ended up in the public eye when he first declared the affliction had been man-made, a failed government attempt to create supersoldiers. People laughed, at first, but as more and more evidence surfaced, and attempt after attempt was made to silence him, they laughed less. But it was too late by then. The world had collapsed, and those remaining had to rebuild. ]

[ The same people who threw vegetables at him now looked at him for guidance that he wasn't sure how to provide, but did his best anyways. ]

[ His best was enough to land him at the head of a small fortress town, with a whole new scope of challenges and responsibilities. He often joins the supply runs, not putting his life over others'. He barely sleeps, but the town runs well; they have a democracy, they have doctors, and they have an engineer who has managed to recreate mostly everything needed for running water and (occasional) electricity locally. ]

[ No closer to finding a cure, though, and he's not so sure if it's even possible, but people depend on that hope. He wonders how long he can keep saying the researchers are "working on it". ]

[ And then there's that looming sense of offness. As if something's not quite right with the world, despite the obvious. Little inconsistencies. Almost as if-- ]

[ If you catch him late at the end of the day, when he thinks no one is watching, you might notice how different his posture looks. Tired. Withdrawn. He's rubbing the bridge of his nose and sighing, but the moment he hears your approach, he's straightening up and turning toward you. There's something a little customer service about his smile. ]

My apologies, I did not see you come in. How may I help?..

--2. trader

[ He shows up on the same day each month, always smiling, always having something to say. He doesn't only carry goods, but news from the other settlements as well, which he gladly shares while bartering, often ending up with a better price. ]

[ Unlike most, it's not food and weapons that make up most of his assortment. It's things more niche but sometimes more coveted -- charts and maps, books, ink and charchoal, paper, various tools, medicine, sometimes even spices or makeup. Things important for planning ahead, and things that may be more about living than surviving. It's surprising what a difference a little bit of those can make on top of the necessities. He even carries letters on occasion, despite it bringing him no profit. ]

[ Rumors are he used to be a teacher in the old world. ]

[ Maybe that's why most people are happy leave a bit more gold or traded goods than they perhaps otherwise would in his pockets. He never seems to push for it, though, and that's probably part of the charm too. ]

Looking for anything specific today?

--3. hunter (except not)

[ He's not a hunter in the traditional sense. He is, however, the guy hunters come to when they can't or don't want to track down potential targets themselves, or have run into something too big. He makes predictions; he makes plans. ]

[ It does seem to be the case that less hunters die going after entrenched afflicted if they do business with him first, though it could simply be rumors to improve PR. ]

[ Nonetheless, for whatever reason, you are here. ]

[ He raises his head from the maps strewn across the table, blue eyes inquiring. ]

Yes?

--4. wildcard

[ choose your own adventure! he starts off pretty melded into the role but is likely to remember or outright figure it out by the end. (also if he sounds dumb at any point that is, in fact, because i am stupid in comparison. gomens lmao) ]

i. deserted town [ROLE: SCAVENGER]

[This world is wrong.

This is something that Akira knew, even before it ended. He knew that from the time that he tried to save a woman from a man who was going to hurt her, and she turned her testimony against him. But what's happened afterwards has solidified it more than ever.

He sees people fight over food and weapons and shelter, tearing each other apart for the barest scraps. He's seen faction leaders withhold lifesaving medicine not even to heal themselves, but just to make sure everyone has to go through them to get what they need. He's watched the weak abandoned to mobs of Affected in order to ensure that the strong will survive.

It's injustice that burns hot in his chest. But it's also made him more wary of people than ever before.

When the world ended, he was a few months into his probation and crushed by the weight of it all. Now, two months into the apocalypse, his heart is harder. Aside from the people he remembers from Before, people he has lingering affection for, he doesn't trust anyone.

Not even the person across from him, that's eyeing or even touched the box of supplies he was reaching out to grab. He thought this location was secure, but...

Akira is still fair. He doesn't fight with people when he can help it, and this is no exception.]

If I let you have it... [He can feel the weight at his hips, his dagger in its holster and his pistol tucked into his waistband. He won't fight if he doesn't have to, but that doesn't mean he can't.] ...can you offer me anything in return?

ii. outside headquarters [ROLE: HUNTER]

[When Akira was still just a normal high school student, when probation was the biggest problem in his life, there were people he had slowly started to let into his heart. It was a slow process, because he had trouble trusting even back then, but they still became more important than anything in the world to him.

For most of them, he still doesn't know their whereabouts. Doesn't even know if they're dead or alive. A few of them, he's been lucky enough to find out they're safe. But as for the rest...

It's cold today. His hunter's coat billows out behind him, and between his fingers he rolls an unsmoked cigarette. He can hear a beloved voice of the past telling him he's still too young to smoke, an unwelcome ghost at his shoulder. He hasn't decided yet if he'll listen to it or not.

Laws and love have both run out, at the end of everything.]

Ordinarily, I don't work with people when I hunt. [His eyes flick away from what he fidgets with, lighting on the person across from him.] But they tell me that you're good at what you do. If I can achieve what I'm hoping for, I don't mind working with you.

[Akira doesn't hunt for the sport of killing Affected, and he doesn't do it to obtain the most prime objects he could ever trade for.

There is only one goal he has, and he will do it. And when it's over, he will be a hunter no more.]

iii. camp [ROLE: LEADER]

[Maybe this is the same person that's been on a long journey. Maybe this is a person that has re-entered the amplitheater over and over. Whatever you may have known him as before, in the end, Kurusu Akira will always end up on this path in any life.

In the towns that still have life, in the settlements that cling to any bit of hope, there are whispers. Rumors. They say there is a group that steals from the powerful factions and gives to the ones that are struggling. The wealthiest men left in this society that abuse their power are shamed and blacklisted among any remaining establishments, not even able to find a single person to barter with for a can of beans. That small group that moves in the shadows are spoken of with awe and disdain in equal turn. They are the ones that cause waves instead of minding their own business. They are the ones that instill hope in the downtrodden.

This group is known as "The Phantoms", and there is one young man that leads them.

For all of the talk that spreads about them, they aren't large. They certainly don't have the numbers to be called an organization, though some talk them up like they are. In reality, they are a group of mostly youths who have found solace in each other in the midst of a world that has fallen apart. To Akira, they are everything he holds dear. People that he knew before, and people in this new world that have taught him how to trust again.

This evening is not unlike every other, though the attack from one of the Affected isn't exactly commonplace. Exhausting, but lucky in the fact that it could've been a lot worse.

Maybe you are one of the Phantoms, or maybe you are simply someone caught in the crossfire that they saved. Either way, your injuries have been treated. The leader approaches you with a bowl in his hand.]

Here. [Akira's voice is soft as he hands it over. Stew. Meat isn't something that's easy to find all the time anymore, but it's a treat for days like today.] This'll help you replenish your strength.

[Whoever you are to him... it's safe now.]

iv. wildcard

(( hi hello, if none of these work feel free to toss anything that you fancy at me! for the entirety of this, i intend to have Akira lost in his role, only able to be woken up by one specific person... but if you'd like to play around with another besides what i've chosen, i'm open to everything for him except probably devotee. my permissions are here if you want to take a gander at them, but genuinely i'm up for just about anything. feel free to hit me up via

Yamadori or PM if you'd like to hash anything out beforehand! ))

role; trader

[ The wares that Viktor peddles aren't your typical fare. In fact, the spread he has is a rather odd assortment of mechanical frankenstien'd things. Need walkie-talkies that actually work and might shoot stun gun ammunition for a quick getaway?? He's got you. Need a drone that can fire any array of projectiles from its mounted guns, he's got that too. Need something with a little more firepower?? You're in luck, he's got that also! Whether it's a hammer that can turn into a proverbial laserbeam, a giant shield with soundwave technology to send your foes flying backwards with a shockwave, or maybe you're looking for a pair of gauntlets that can crush an affected with ease?? If you want something made, he's got it and he's selling!!

He's not just selling weaponry, though, but also thousands of spare parts ranging from gears, sheets of metal, even full-on engines if that's what you need! He also does customization work and repair jobs for the right price. He doesn't buy into the whole grandiose bravado that other traders typically fall into. But he does watch with a keen eye how people act. ]

role; ~~cult~~ leader

[ Maybe you've heard stories about the strange metal oasis that is oddly unaffected by the apocalypse. A place where tranquility and cooperation meet in harmony, a true beacon of utopia. But not all that glitters is gold, and there is an almost sinister feel to how the oasis operates. People there are happy, but their emotions are muted, some would say even absent, as they allow people to enter who give up their weapons. A steel oasis in the middle of treacherous terrain with food, water, and even shelter for those weary travelers. For those who enter through the rusted yet oddly tranquil gates, they will be greeted by a fleet of unmoving soldiers all of whom are eerily motionless until those gates are entered. Mixed upon their bodies are the signs of affliction, but they do not act out regardless. Then they will turn in synchronized harmony to regard whomever has stepped past the gates, heads tilting to the side in silent judgment. There is no other motion from them as they simply act as watchers for the Herald and his people. Beyond them, down the cracked paved road is another more inviting sprawl, filled with people who are also afflicted, but their bodies are a mixture of flesh and shining golden metal.

Viktor will be there to greet whomever arrives. ]

I am pleased to finally meet you. You have come a long way and must be tired. [ Viktor is a strange sight himself with an entirely purple metallic body that has rivulets of purple energy and light flickering throughout it. ] If you have any weapons, I will ask you to leave them there.

[ He will motion towards a stockhouse guarded by similar automatons like out front. ]

wildcard;

( Please do whatever with me I love AUs!! Viktor will be lost in his role and only able to snap out of it from 1 person in particular! I'm open to pretty much whatever with him in terms of roles. If you wanna hash something out, hit me up via PM or just wing it and I'll go along with whatever! )

a. an affected

[Her staff is planted in the earth beside her—close enough for her to reach quickly if she's unexpectedly approached—but otherwise, she seems completely at ease, kneeling quietly on the ground, her expression calm. Her hands are held over the soil before her, and her gaze is fixed on the land below her hands. She can sense... something, deep in the earth. This awareness has only grown stronger as the days pass. Of a wildness, a life—like water moving, deep below the earth. Close to the earth as she is, she is trying to draw some of that wild, living energy upwards, into the spent, stained soil by the surface.

She doesn't know why she's trying to do this—or even if it can be done, but she feels called to try. Her attention may seem completely focused on the earth, but she is also very aware of her surroundings. No one can afford to drop their guard out here—not without consequences.

From a distance, she may seem like an ordinary human, but the closer one comes, the stranger Aerith appears. Her eyes give off a faint, green glow. Her veins seem to glow too, visible beneath the surface of her skin, also faintly greenish.]

b. trading turnips

[Aerith's small cart is painted in bright colors, the wooden sides of the vehicle depicting simple images of flowers, trees, hills, and mountains: a little landscape, and one sharply at odds with the actual grim landscape. The elderly donkey that's been pulling her cart has seen better days, but he has a peaceful air, tethered not far from where Aerith has set up shop, grazing on the scant grass.

Aerith has a similar air of peace around her, setting out her wares on the outskirts of this village, with a soft smile on her face.]

It's your lucky day! We've actually got a few tomatoes. Along with carrots, potatoes, leeks, turnips... and let's see... There's even some spinach!

c. leader, healer

[Something must have happened to you. Something very unpleasant—maybe an ambush, or possibly a less surprising attack. You feel sore, and more than a little dazed. That's not an extraordinary experience out in the wasteland.

It's more extraordinary, perhaps, to find yourself waking up indoors, lying down in a clean, soft bed—with your wounds tended, while the alluring, savory smell of something cooking gives the air the scent of comfort.

Aerith, standing nearby, senses movement, turning towards the bed.]

It's all right... you're safe, here.

d. out in the wild wastelands

[Aerith tightens her grip on her staff, her eyes bright, her gaze steady, and her her stance skillful as she faces the stranger. Violence is never her first option, but sometimes it's necessary out here. She knows that better than anything. She might not prefer fighting, but she knows how.]

Who are you, and what do you want?

or, wildcard
[Surprise me! I'm up for almost anything!]

i. survival of the fittest

[This whole place is bizarre—not least of which is the repetitive certainty that keeps returning to remind him he's supposed to be dead. But he's very clearly not dead. Dead men—for instance—can't jump, and Kenny can do so easily, leaping from building to ruined building almost as if he learned how to fly somewhere along the way. Weird and unreal as all this is, it's where he is now, and he can adapt to it. That's what he does.

And, decidedly not dead, Kenny's currently striding confidently across an aging roof, using his high vantage point from the top of an abandoned town hall to look down on the world below, scanning the area for anything (or anyone) useful or interesting.

When he catches sight of someone, he can't help but draw closer to investigate—either out of curiosity or simply a desire to stir shit.]

Hey! Thought everybody knew, kids and idiots are supposed to stay home these days. Better go back where you belong.

ii. adversely affected

[His mind is never silent. He can't rest. There's always a kind of buzzing in his mind, like electricity—a resource which has become so rare these days. He feels electric himself, as if all that lost power is gathered inside him, longing to be released in a lightning strike.

The common wisdom about the affected is that they attack only when provoked. That's partly true, except for the fact that every one of the affected has a different threshold for provocation.

For Kenny—it's enough for him to sense someone nearby. That awareness makes the current in him jump, and his mouth fills with the taste of iron and ozone. He doesn't stop to wonder who it is who's drawn dangerously near him in this wilderness, or why they're here. He leaps forward and lashes out with inhuman speed—a sharp blade flashing in each hand.]

iii. hunt or be hunted

[This dump used to be a tavern, many years ago, when there was a town here. Now, the town is a ghost, the bar is crumbling, the walls are dubious, and the floor isn't that much more convincing. It still counts as a shelter, though, and down in the cellar—well, the booze that can still be found down there is what drew Kenny in and why he stays, making it a "headquarters" of sorts, not that he calls it anything so official.

There are enough intact chairs and tables for him to have sat his ass down in one of the former while his feet rest up on one of the latter.

As he looks over his unwanted visitor, he sighs, his expression deeply unimpressed. Although he's tried to quash rumors of his existence, past or present, he still somehow has enough of a reputation left to draw these losers and weirdos out into the wilderness.]

What d'you want so much you came all the way out here, huh?

iv. leader of the pack

[This settlement, small as it is, is run with the orderly precision of a machine. Its inhabitants are severe and strong, more like members of a militia than ordinary citizens. More than that, there's something off about them. They go too long without blinking, and they rarely need to rest. There's a haunted expression that surfaces now and again on their faces, as if they've all seen something they can't bring themselves to believe...

It's difficult to enter this tiny town unobserved—and the odd residents aren't welcoming to strangers. That said, there is a kind of "welcoming committee". When someone new comes to town, they're greeted by a relatively large group of townspeople, and then escorted to meet with the "Captain" who runs this town. Whenever he's free. Some newcomers have to wait a good while to see him. In a holding cell, because you can't be too careful these days.

When Kenny finally deigns to attend his audience with this most recent visitor, he flashes a smile—then belches, loudly.]

So—you lookin to join us, or you lookin to die?

[There's a wry note in his voice, although he's more or less sincere. He's gracious enough to offer options, but there's no guarantee that choosing the first option will preclude the second.]

[or—wildcard me!]

Threaded | Flat

QUESTIONS

Aubrey | OMORI

Caitlyn Kiramman | Arcane

levi ackerman // attack on titan

Kel | OMORI | ota