[Gm’s Notes]
For future reference, I would like people to take consideration a few things that I learned in a class a short while back.
A. What does your character(s) want?
B. Since they’re all talking in the first person, why are they talking? and who are they talking to.
You don’t have to discretely answer any of these things, but I’ve found keeping these things in the back of my head to be immensely helpful in my writing.
A. Every person out there *wants* something and if your character doesn’t, then he just isn’t very interesting.
B. Similarly, if they’re talking, they have a reason for it.
Whatever it is, these things round out your character, and make them truly believable. None of you have done a bad job so far, but since we’re still in the beginning stages of getting to know our characters (I know I haven’t answered my own questions), but I figured it might help us all a little.
OOC: Welcome, Horned. Very glad to have you. If you’re unfamiliar with US geography, you might find it useful to do what I’ve been doing: google maps. Haha. Even Americans aren’t familiar with US geography.
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- Uriel / Ishmael
Although the woman questioned me multiple times, I kept silent. It wasn’t because I wanted to withhold information from her, but it was because I didn’t know how to answer her questions. “What are you?” She had asked first, and that was the hardest question.
If I told her what I was, it put a great deal of pressure on me, a great deal of expectation. Even if I was equipped to handle such expectation, it was not for me to be the subject of inevitable fear and worship. I thought about lying to her, but lying was never my forte and I couldn’t for the life of me come up with one.
Still, I managed to come up with one for Owen. I figured that I would tell him the truth just a little later. Even if Hog had been quick to arm himself, it wasn’t unlikely that others wouldn’t act the same. The world called for it. It screamed for desperation, and as night fell, I was certain that I could hear it.
I knew that the truth would come out eventually, and perhaps I would be discredited, but I was beginning to think such a position better suited me. I still had a mission to accomplish, and now I had been impeded by these adventures.
We made our usual preparations, taking our stand in a lost little motel. I walked in and noticed the bullet ridden windows. Who knew if these were made before or after the apocalypse. We locked all the windows and the rooms after they were cleared. We had rifle-men placed on the second floor, some facing outwards while others looked down into the courtyard. Those of us who were unarmed crowded into two room on the second floor, right by stairs that led back down the courtyard and the vehicles.
It was a position that was ideally defensible, but something bothered me.
Delrana called Owen over and I followed after quietly, curiosity beckoning me forward. Her suggestion was highly dangerous. We would have to spare men in order to clear the store, but as darkness drew closer, even if the store was completely devoid of devils, our position in the motel would be somewhat compromised.
Owen was furious as she walked away, still wearing little more than my coat. “Who the hell does she think she is?” I shrugged. He gave me a confused look. “Aren’t you cold without your coat?” I looked myself over. I was wearing a sweater over a long-sleeve button down shirt. “No. I don’t get cold,” I said plainly.
Now he shrugged. “Hey, Ish. We don’t have that much food left. We don’t even have enough for everyone to eat tonight. She’s right about that.”
I nodded.
“We still have about half an hour before sunset and we’re all ready, and as much I don’t want to spare any men, some supplies would do a lot for morale.”
I nodded again.
Now, Owen gave me almost a sly look. “If the crazy girl wants to help, I say we let her do what she wants.”
I gave him a look, judging him. “I’ll go with her.” He looked startled in return. “What?” Frank Dora stepped into the conversation at this point, looked us both up and down, evaluating our expressions. “One of you is planning somethin’ dangerous, aren’t ya?”
I nodded while Owen stammered.
“Well, I’m in,” Dora stated.
“What?” Owen stated again. “Explorer, we can’t spare you.” It took me a moment to realize that he was still talking to Frank. Apparently Explorer was his nickname. It seemed a little long for a nickname, I thought.
“C’mon, Owen. You got enough men stationed out in at least ten rooms in this measly little town. They should be able take care of anything. Besides,” he jerked his finger in Delrana’s direction, “She’s hot.”
At this, Owen blushed a little. Then, unexpectedly, Angela jumped in as well. “I’m in, too!” She said. She had a backpack on and the gun I gave her was obviously tucked into her pants. At this point, Frank Dora, whispered under his breath, “Jailbait.”
Owen and I joined teams and made our protests, but Angela drew her gun in a wild, fast motion and nailed all three lights on a stoplight. Red. Yellow. And Green. There was something about her that was different. As if her shadow and her form didn’t match. She smirked a little while Dora whistled that he was impressed.
Owen said little else, leaving us to it, as he returned to his preparations.
Dora called Delrana over, handing each of us an Uzi as well as handful of clips.. “Y’know what that is?” he said to me. “Yes. Where did you find this?” I replied.
He pointed at himself and laughed. “Gun collector.”
OOC: Shari, I’ll follow your lead.