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For the few who still muck about on this blog, I’m still alive!  I’ve just moved and rebooted everything over on @the-last-command. So, please, head over there.

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dont make me tap the sign

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Thank you for existing, you are loved! Send this to ten people, who in your opinion deserves such a sweet message in their inbox. Nothing bad will happen if you don’t, but imagine the smiles! 💙💛

{{ Thanks amigo! }}

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OOC.

{{ I’ve just figured out how to whistle. I’ve been doing it frequently ever since. }}

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CHINA. Beijing. June 3, 1989. In the afternoon before the massacre, as thousands of Chinese troops rolled into the heart of Beijing, the mother of one of the students begs a young soldier to put down his arms. “So many of these soldiers were peers of the students, trucked in from the provinces,” says Turnley. “The mother was saying, ‘These are your dreams as well, turn back.’ I think the soldiers had no idea what they were mixed up in and were in shock.”

Photograph: David Turnley/Corbis

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{ The scribe’s question was nothing new. Redwood had heard that same question, asked dozens of time over. Always, Redwood gave the same answer. }

“For one, they pay well. Though, my reasons are not strictly about wealth. Law and order are important, The NCR spreads order, makes law. They’re not a perfect republic, but it’s better than anarchy, or slavery.”

{ Decisive was the answer, while Redwood escorted Mike. For answering the question, Redwood proposed his own inquiry. }

“Tell me, why fight for a dying order?”  

Card Sharp - {Ares/Mike} - {Closed - RP}

@angrygingerwasteland

{ The jungle’s floor was teaming with life and vice. Gamblers of all stripes were throwing away their hard earned cash, into uncertainty. Gamblers swarmed the tables, trying their luck. The tables were hot, while gamblers said their prayers, wishing for divine intervention from Lady Luck herself. The sounds of laughter drowned out the sadness of defeats, had by unlucky patrons. Liquor flowed freely, while cigar smoke filled the already foul air.  }

{ The Jungle Casino was busy tonight, racking in caps from suckers. Ares however, had no interest with gambling, he was working tonight. Not for the casino, but for The NCR. Recently, someone was sabotaging their operations. They suspected the worse, Legion Frumentarii being the number one suspect. Redwood however, considered an alternative to their guesses. A freelancer, someone who’s reasonable smart, could be the culprit. Already, Ares had spent hours on hours, trying to find the answer. }

{ That is why Redwood was here tonight, he suspected they were in the crowd. The criminal involved with the espionage, was somewhere out there, on The Jungle’s floor.  }

{ Unaware to Redwood, someone else was in that crowd, they were here for him.  }      

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{ The question caught his attention. Turning to her, Redwood grew overwhelmingly curious. More so, Redwood started thinking that question, was connected with her “acquaintance” down stairs.  Turning to crowd, Redwood gave his answer, honest and blunt.  }

“It’s my specialty.”

{ Redwood coldly answered, his answer expressing more than what was said. Redwood embodied the saying, “beware of an old man, in a profession where young men die”. Though, Redwood did not enjoy that status.  }

Returning to the subject, Redwood questioned the Faye.

“This involves him, doesn’t it?”

{ The mercenary asked, keeping his eyes on the crowd below. Faye’s previous question sounded genuine, which was enough. Though then again, should he bother with this? Or should he concern himself, with aiding this woman. The casino would not want that, then again, Redwood doesn’t care about them.  }

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“An old friend of yours?”

{  Redwood asked, inquisitive of the person the recognized. Though, he felt faintly, that something was off about this. Perhaps there was something else, going on here, something more on the under surface. Though, there wasn’t much to go on, nothing much to pursue. The thought however, remained within his mind.  }

“Yes well, this place is popular. Gamblers go where the action is… .”

{  Redwood turned his attention to the crowd. Watching the patrons move from table to table. Though, there was nothing which concerned Redwood. The crowd was clam, about as calm as casino crowds are. Turning back to Faye, Redwood sighed, tired of his current duties. Although the caps were good, the work was uninteresting. Redwood preferred the field, he preferred combat missions. Let it be fighting Legion, or hunting Fiends, those were more preferable.  }

“I don’t even think this place closes.”

          “A friend? No. But someone I know. Someone I know very well,” she responded. Her attention went back to the wanted man, watching how he nonchalantly interacted with various individuals she could only assume were as crooked and immoral as him. Oh, how she wanted to stalk him and only reveal herself when she knew she could corner the bastard. To avenge all the lives he’d stolen away from poor souls just trying to get by.

     She tracked and predicted his movements once more before looking to Redwood once more as he spoke. 

           “I doubt it does. Not when so many hopeful individuals were so eager to spend their bottlecaps,” she said, eyes once again moving back to Wendell and then men guarding him. There was a high probability that there were more men with Wendell, hidden among the crowd and most likely waiting outside. Redwood seemed to be a strong individual and if she had a sense of a good character perhaps he’d be interested.

          “How well can you fight?” She asked.

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2 8 12 16

2 – On OCs

{{  More often than not, I’ve seen characters that are too similar. Now maybe, that’s just me being in the fandom for a while. After some time, you start recognizing similar trends and characters. Typically, people write what works, rather than try something completely new. Granted, creating something already popular is understandable. Though, I feel personally creating something entirely new, something that goes against popular sentiment also works.  }}  

8 – On Positivity

{{  It’s important to remain positive. Being positive, not only helps you, but helps others as well. When RPing, or interacting with the fandom, thinking positive helps your efforts. Toxicity only brings out the worse, which isn’t really needed.  }}

{{  I figure, to remain constant with your writing, your characters and your fandom. Spreading positivity { and being positive } goes a long way. It not only helps you, but helps others as well.  }}  

12 – On Your Own Writing

{{  Well, my writing is serviceable, plain enough to understand. Granted however, I’m always aiming high, attempting to improve my writing. I believe in better standards for myself, instead of just doing what’s required.  }}

{{  Unfortunately, aiming for perfection can be tormenting. Everyone knows I’m not very quick about my replies. When writing replies, or answers to questions, I don’t desire giving the bare minimum. I want perfection, or at least, something I consider perfect. That has unfortunately, made me rather obsessed with perfection. Every word, every sentence, must sound good together, must flow together well.  }}

16 – On Roleplaying

{{  It’s entertaining and fun, considering you keep up. Roleplaying should be fun. Both parties should enjoy their roleplaying. Together, the writers are creating their shared story.  }}

{{  The story could be anything; it could be adventure or horror. Whatever it is, so long as everyone is having fun, is what should count.  }}

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Dear diary

April 10th, 2266

By tomorrow, I would be leaving the Klamath Mountains. I hope not to return.

I threw the money away, it wasn’t right keeping it. Holme has his ranch, his cattle and his wealth, for what it’s worth.

Five days ago, Holme contacted me, discussing a business proposition. His ranch was being harassed by one trouble-maker. A tribal, named “shadow-who-walks” was killing his Brahmin including his ranch-hands. NCR military sent a squad, but they couldn’t find the tribal, the terrain was too rough. The money was good, so I took the job.

Arriving at the ranch, I surveyed some of the Tribal’s handiwork. The attacks were always at night, always quick. The Tribal planned everything, where to attack, how to attack. The NCR lieutenant wasn’t that helpful.

Holme was polite, though everything was an act with him. Underneath that smile, there is nothing but greed.

We started our hunt, traversing the mountains, searching for the tribal. Our search however, brought nothing new. We suddenly ambushed, one of the soldiers was killed. An arrow pierced his neck, he was dead within seconds.

The tribal was gone, he eluded our pursuit.

Later that night, the tribal snuck pass the sentries, setting the main house ablaze. During the chaos, the tribal murdered Holme’s son.

He was an innocent, the boy didn’t deserve this. Holme cried, but not out of a father’s love. The heir to his empire was dead.  

I grew tired, of being beholden to The NCR’s restraint. Judging from this Tribal’s patterns, he was closer than previously thought. I exited the ranch, hunting this tribal. I came upon his cave, where he was hiding.

At first, the tribal was confused, even frightened by my ghoulish appearance. He explained his reasons, his justifications for his crimes. His tribe roamed these mountains, it was their ancestral homeland. Holme robbed them, harassed them with mercenaries and desecrated their burial grounds. The tribals responded in kind, defending their homeland. The NCR military eventually removed them, forcing them onto the reservations. Shadow-Who-Walks returned, wanting nothing but vengeance.

I pitied him. Before me, stood the wreck of someone once good. Tormented and disgraced, he sought violence and hatred. Holme was evil, but it didn’t justify murdering innocent people.

We fought; the tribal lasted longer than he should have. I murdered him, burned his body. Returning to Holme, he was overjoyed. After paying me, I slammed my fist straight across his face. I threw my money, his money away. I told him his crimes, the reason why Shadow-Who-Walks attacked. I left with Holme screaming his pathetic threats, I couldn’t care about him.

I’m sickened of everything.

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Dear Diary

December 21st, 2230

My wounds should heal. The pain however, that would last longer.

Everyone is dead, Samuel, Goyer and Ritsko, dead to the last.  Kruger lied, he never intended on paying us. Kruger’s guards made quick work, cutting us down, killing us like lame cattle. I was wounded, shot in the back.

They carted the corpses away, dumping us inside a mass grave. I was buried underneath the mound of my comrades. Choked with death and dirt, I dug my way out. Through the bodies of my men, I reached the surface.

I passed out, too much blood lost, not enough strength to stay awake.

I woke up, in different surroundings. A church, a place called the Abbey. The monks here rescued me from the grave, nursed me back to health. I considered staying, trying repay my debt to them, but Kruger was alive. Gathering my strength, I managed to “procure” some weapons. A rusty rifle, a machete and a couple grenades.The journey was long, but I reached Kruger’s compound.

Waited until night; then infiltrated the compound. The watch-guard’s necks were easy to snap. I fragged the guard’s barracks, killed and maimed the butchers. In the chaos, I found Kruger. I killed him slow, made his wife and daughter watch. I spared them, they wouldn’t last long anyways. I burned the compound, it burned as bright as any star.

Now I’m here, squatting inside some ruined basement. I’m hollow, cold and numb. Kruger is dead, but my comrades, my friends are dead as well. No vengeance, no amount of reprisal can bring them back.

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Send “Dear Diary” for a random excerpt from my muses diary.

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2. On OCs.

{{ People should have fun with their characters. Imagination is your limit, experiment with new ideas, new concepts. }}

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11. On your character.

{{ The point of Ares Redwood is to show how easily humanity can be lost, if not cherished correctly. War is dehumanizing, Redwood is evidence of that. Having experienced The Resource Wars, The Great War and the current conflicts in The Mojave Wasteland, Redwood bears the corruption of those conflicts. Slowly and surely, whatever Redwood once was, is being devoured through violence and hatred. }}

{{ Examine Redwood’s surroundings, his duties to The NCR. Redwood { along with other mercenaries of his stripe } have become death-squads, hell-bent on waging war against The Legion, The Fiends and anyone threatening The NCR. To wage war, these mercenaries employ the same methods of their enemies. Unfortunately, they {even Redwood} forget the famous Friedrich Nietzsche quote. }}

“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.”

{{ Redwood is that quote. More and more, Redwood is becoming a reflection of his worst enemies. Granted, I wasn’t so dedicated to this idea for Ares at first. Over time however, I incorporated it into his characterization. }}

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Mun Views

A quick warning. These views may be unpopular, or controversial, but they are subjective.

1. On formatting.

2. On OCs.

3. On smut.

4. On your fandom.

5. On exclusivity.

6. On 'burnbookisms'/anti-blogs.

7. On hate.

8. On positivity.

9. On OOC posts.

10. On URLs.

11. On your character.

12. On your own writing.

13. On following back.

14. On one-liners.

15. On tumblr.

16. On roleplaying in general.