SAID HE'S A SCUMBAG DON'T YOU KNOW? && double joining
#1
[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify;line-height:1.2;font-size:9pt;"]"There," He broke the silence they had shared. "Look, Kismet," He turned to look back at the girl he travelled alongside, half in disbelief / half in relief.

It was real.

The rumors told him of a lodge in the mountains, sturdy and unfaltering through the years, with residents nearly as capable and weathered as the mountainside itself. He had told Kismet of this, though part of him wondered if it was nonsensical to dream of such a place. But when he spoke of the resort, of a home, Kismet's eyes had lit up a golden brown. For them both, Sköll had made himself hope, made himself trust his own words. They would go on to cross roaring rivers, hike dangerous terrain, and struggle to keep warm during the freezing nights. There were times he was not sure if the girl he had found crying in the woods would make it through, but he had learned to bite his tongue- for her will to survive seemed to burn brighter than his own at times. Sköll believed himself having rescued the girl from eventual death in this world, but truth was, he likely could not have made the journey without her. Where he grew impatient and frustrated, she pushed past with a vision of her own. Where she hunted and gathered, he skinned and shared the warmth of a stew. Where one faltered, the other offered a steady hand.

But the shivering nights, the raw palms, the exhaustion- it was all worth it if it meant sturdy walls around them and a sense of security. Sköll was tired of looking over his shoulder, of staring into the woods, of trying to figure out if the figure on the horizon was his weary mind or a threat. Neither of them had a home to return to, a place to depend on. This could be that. This really could be something good.

For now, though, the sight of the lodge's pointed roof was enough to keep him going. "We can rest soon." He had pushed further today- the sun was setting, darkness creeping through the sky. Usually the two would be setting up camp for the night at this time, but Sköll had seen smoke just over the crest, and had urged them on.

Despite Sköll's nature, this journey had forced him into a role he usually did not take up. He had found Kismet crying in the woods, mourning the loss of a rabbit she had hunted for her own survival. Sköll had not come across such softness in a long time. The new world quickly made bones of people like her. People like her ended up like people like him- and he would not let another fall under the heel of the monsters that roamed nowadays- not like he had, not like Hati had, not like Katya had. So Sköll had hushed the anger that seared his insides, had remembered those faces, and had decided to ensure her own wellbeing for as long as he could. Someone had to. She was crying over a rabbit, for fuck's sake.

He was not perfect. He would snap at her when he lost his patience and held her at an arm's length the entirety of the trip. He would not shield her from the gore as he ripped apart the animals she had just grieved. He would tear open the throats of bandits with a dull blade and tell her flatly to move on as she saw the blood spray from in between his hands. But where he was not perfect, he fulfilled his duty. He would ensure she ate all that he poured in her bowl. He would push her behind cover before dealing with whatever threat arose. He would keep the fire burning and shed his own coat when she shivered in her sleep. He would not pretend to be an angel, but even demons could serve those in need.

"Hey!" He shouted, advancing swiftly up the crest. "Anyone out?"


[spoiler=TAGS ? UPDATED 9/23]? PINTEREST BOARD && SPOTIFY PLAYLIST ?

BASICS ⤛ I WENT TO HELL & THE DEVIL SAID
✟ sköll [redacted] && surname no longer claimed as he wishes to have no ties to his family
✟ male && he/him
✟ twenty years && december eighteenth [ sagittarius ]
✟ new member of flintlock lodge

PHYSICAL ⤛ WELCOME BACK, GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN
✟ physical health && 90% [ scrapes and minor cuts currently healing ]
✟ carries with him a backpack with his belongings, sentimental items including: an old walkman, casette tapes, a hefty book of myths his mother owned
✟ also carries a baseball bat that hands by one of his beltloops, two knives on the sides of his pack, and a few carts of handgun ammunition in his pack

APPEARANCE ⤛ AND I NEVER EVEN HAD A CHANCE
✟ half korean ; curly, dark brown hair ; dark hazel eyes ; slim, muscular physique ; six foot one ; just over one hundred eighty pounds
✟ heavily tattooed with self-done stick and pokes, mostly cover his body
✟ wears anything comfortable ; often in neutral oversized hoodies/sweatshirts or t-shirts ; straight leg jeans in dark colors ; combat/work boots

PERSONALITY ⤛ TO BE MYSELF, BUT TODAY
✟ impolite, often offensive ; usually teases groupmates ; easy to pick a fight with / rile up ; general asshole kid ; protective of children ; selfish with his own collected goods ; enjoys domestic chores ; laid back when he is not given reason to be otherwise ; dislikes anyone with traits akin to his abusers ; especially distrusts older adults
✟ experiences hallucinations when under stress / fear ; severe issues with authority ; attachment issues once bonded
✟ triggers include being called "son," "boy," or "dog." formerly severely abused by people who would command him like a dog and refer to him as one. being told anything similar to this will cause sköll to flip out and become unstable / dangerous.

RELATIONSHIPS ⤛ IS THE DAY
✟ edda rainson x unknown && parents - deceased / unknown
✟ hati rainson &&  sister - deceased at sixteen
✟ pansexual, monogamous ; no romantic interest

INTERACTIONS ⤛ I'M GONNA GIVE HELL
✟ medium mentally | extreme physically | little regard for his own life ; will not stay down
  ↳ difficulty w/ guns [ easy-medium ] | difficulty w/ melees [ extreme] | difficulty w/ hand-to-hand [ hard ]
✟ non-violent power play allowed
✟ will not attack/kill/maim/capture without asking the author
✟ do not kill/maim/capture without asking me (eskie)
[/spoiler]
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#2
[align=center][div style="background=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; text-align: justify; margin-top: auto; line-height: 110%; width: 500px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt"]The winter breeze chilled the small girl unflinchingly, shuffling her body closer to the towering man she had grown to trust after their treacherous journey in search of home. At first glance, every bone and tendril within her wailed for the strength to flee as far away from him as possible; but now, after many freezing nights and famished mornings, petulant spats and teetering balance of sharing comforts they had made it at last.

Soft fawn-like eyes blinked tiredly against the sun when he finally spoke, "Look, Kismet." A weak sigh parted her rose tinted lips, how she had longed for someone to utter her name in any sense after having been in solitude for so long. It still startled and delighted her all at the same time. Perhaps it was fate, as her namesake entitles, for Sköll to come across her path during a fit of sobs after having killed a rabbit for her own needs. Whether her grievance was solely for the rabbit, she would not admit to him that she had also been overwhelmed with the enormity of her loneliness. How deeply she missed warmed chicken noddle soup and the sound of other human voices aside from her own. Essentially, he had saved her in more ways than one.

When Sköll had first mentioned the lodge in the mountains, Kismet clung to the idea almost as much as she had to him. The uncertainty within his clouded eyes was unmistakable but she would never forgive herself had they not at least tried to figure out their own truth of such a group. Many would wonder how such a seemingly fragile, porcelain-clad girl would survive this ruthless world, but she was skilled in the art of silence and wielding a bow and arrow. Her slender frame would make it far too easy to melt into the shadows, stealth came as naturally as breathing. Then followed hunting, gathering and knowledge over the flora and fauna that remained. Not to mention her fierce stubbornness and refusal to die. She was also still self-training to better handle and utilize a sniper rifle Sköll had gifted her after coming across one during their travels which had already begun to mold to the grip of her gentle hands.

"We can rest soon."

"I hope so, I'm awfully tired. And hungry." Vocals of sweetened honey chimed in response while continuing behind his wake, eyes darting cautiously for any sign of movement around them. Already had her mind concocted an escape plan in case there were people beyond the horizon that weren't as welcoming as they'd hoped. Her breath became shallow the closer they came to the lodge, fear prickling beneath her cold skin. Maybe she'd made a grave mistake in pushing Sköll to pursue a faint idea based on whispers and rumors, a mistake that could cost them their lives. Nonetheless, her silken smile remained on her ghostly features when she turned to face him. Although his entire presence exuded primal, unwavering predatory power she knew that beneath his rough mannerism and brutality there laid a man who relied on her in certain ways she couldn't place.

"Anyone out?"

Kismet stilled promptly, gripping the unsheathed throwing knives she hid on the small of her back as her mind raced with recent memories. She knew Sköll's temperament could run rampant and consuming like that of a wildfire, but in the frigid state the world had succumbed to, she greeted his warmth with open arms even if that meant she'd occasionally appear singed by the flames. He had become her only friend, a genuine bond in what seemed to be a never-ending nightmare crawling with vile monsters that wouldn't bother with a second thought to butcher the girl -- or worse.

/ I'm half-asleep PLS forg ive me bae


[align=center]
in the land of gods and monsters — i was an angel

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#3
[align=center][align=center]
a
THE TIRED SOLDIER
[b][i]bernard smith. he had been napping out on the porch of the building where he had been residing, when he heard a voice call out before the gates. he snorted awake, swatting at his face and looking around with narrowed eyes. he wanted to nap, damnit. bernard got to his feet and stretched up, feeling his spine crack. he groaned and began to head towards the lodge entrance, rubbing his eyes. he lit a cigarette as he stepped through, taking a drag when he noticed the two before him.

"hello," he replied, "what do you two want?"

bernard spared a quick glance over his shoulder to see if any of the other flintlock members were coming, seeing if he could find edmund in the midst. if anyone were to be here to greet possible newcomers, it would not be him. he was just a stranger. he barely even fit in. he pulled another drag from his cigarette, tapping the ashes to the ground and blowing smoke from his nose.

//ugh this is so short, i'm sorry

"speech."

[spoiler=//tags — updated ;; 09/01/21]
general
> bernard smith ;; saint bernard, bernie
> male;; he/him
> 47yrs ;; ages real time ;; december 15th
> flintlock lodge

physical
> physical health ;; 75%
> minor injuries ;; frostbite on fingers, a few bruises
> major injuries ;; n/a
> [i]important things to note ;; n/a

appearance
> thick and short grey hair ; dark blue/green eyes ; average, def a dad bod, rounder stomach ; 5'9" ; 240 lbs
> no body modifications
> a white shirt with suspenders ; black pants ; usually wears a heck ton of jackets if he's cold
> pocket change ; cigarettes ; a photo of his wife and son
> important things to note ;; scar on left side under ribs ; missing a toe or two

personality
> very honest ; stubborn ; sympathetic ; comes across as airy or non-present ; in his head often ; quick-witted ; think first, act after
> PTSD
> no tics

relationships
> oliver smith x dianne smith ;; dianne - deceased ; oliver - deceased
    > henry passed from cancer
    > dianne passed from natural causes
> no siblings
> heterosexual
> no known crushes
      > widow, wife was jillian williams - deceased ; passed from a raid in home
          > son was warrin - deceased ; passed from a raid in home

interaction/confrontation
> medium mentally | medium physically
> non-violent power play allowed
> will not attack/kill/maim/capture without asking the author
> do not kill/maim/capture without asking me (timothy)
> if you want to attack, use this colour (red) and underline it

misc importance
> "this is him talking." ;; his speech is bolded
> this is him thinking ;; thoughts are in italics
[/spoiler]


[Image: matt-healy-smoking.gif] [Image: original.gif] [Image: animated-gun-and-pistol-image-0010.gif]
A SAINT BERNARD SITS AT THE
☾・゚. ━━━━━ TOP OF THE DRIVEWAY
bernard smith | he/him | flintlock
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#4
[align=center][div style="width: 470px; text-align: justify; font-family: andale mono; font-size: 7pt; letter-spacing: 2.5px; word-spacing: 1px; line-height: 14px;"]Edmund was no stranger to the cold.

It began with the coldness of an indifferent father. Then the dregs of blood once spilled for an unworthy cause, pooled around a body that had since grown cold as it was left behind as discarded waste. Sometimes by Eddie, sometimes by others. Cold was the cutthroat survival the New World had thrust the innocent generation into. A world many had to grow accustomed to over the years, but a life Edmund had been born into. All of these cold, self-serving prerequisites in order just to make it through the day because life had never been about ❛ loving thy neighbour ❜, but about scrimmaging and grappling for any small piece of hope that one was strong enough to avoid the inevitable; the cold.

But the cold, it could creep into one’s bones when they least expected it. When each heartbreak of watching a loved one die turned from one deep lamentation to an unfortunate expectation time and time again. One could only survive the New World if they were hardened by the cold. When a loved one was once someone he would take a bullet for, yet now they were the one standing behind the trigger. That look in their eyes — cold, cold, cold. This world was bitterly inhospitable, especially to those who deserved nothing but warmth and kindness. Eddie could only sympathise from afar. Flintlock was home because he was well accustomed to the cold in one way or another, but he was learning how to seek the warmth. The kindness.

The only thing was that it tended to despise him, as did most things.

Bernard had caught Edmund’s attention as he watched the man trek onwards away from the lodge, something which he would likely otherwise avoid doing unless he had good reason to head in that very direction. Through the window, Eddie’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked for any movement along the horizon before rising to his feet to leave the lodge in search of Bernard. Several moments behind him, Ed eventually spotted Bernard in conversation with two newcomers, the Captain slowing a stop nearby as he awaited the response of the two unfamiliar faces.


[align=center]
I'M OUT OF MY MIND, REPLAYING THE SCENE
[sup]AS THESE THOUGHTS START TO ASPHYXIATE ME — NOTES.

[/sup]
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#5
[align=center][div style="width: 400px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; font-family: calibri; letter-spacing: .6px; color: #494949;"]she remembers her first walk up the mountain. a bit more than a year ago, terribly underprepared for how actually cold it’d be. a jacket her brother had given her in spite of all the quarreling they did is the only thing she has as a reminder of him. changes in scenery never saved the van doren’s from the big, dark clouds over their heads, their tragedy follows them. so, maybe, a place like flintlock lodge is meant for them: cold, bitter, and unrelenting. josephine’s entire world has flipped since arriving and her old day-to-day life feels like an eternity ago.

trailing after eddie when she noticed what he was going to investigate, she eyes the two visitors. from her extensive travels, joey doesn’t recognize either of them, and they look quite young, so she doubts they just hiked the mountain for fun or anything else besides some kind of shelter. their captain abruptly stops, receiving furrowed eyebrows, then a shake of her head. even though joey’s almost known eddie her whole life, he’s still a strong silent type, something she’s never quite understood. in the wake of freddie’s death, she’s the only other one in flintlock’s council of sorts, so if he’s not going to talk, she’ll shoulder the responsibility; at least bernard has greeted them already.

joey steps past eddie, sizing up the young man and young woman. ” the trek up here isn’t exactly a great time, so i’m guessing you’re here to stay? “ joey assumes, waiting a moment before continuing, [color=#990000]” i’m joey, that’s bernard, and our captain is back there, eddie. “ she introduces, motioning to the two men before focusing back on sköll and kismet. her eyes narrow as she notices her hands behind her back, green eyes darting from the girl’s face to her arms. [color=#990000]” sweetheart, i think it’d be best for you to put whatever you have away, i’d hate to have to use it on you. “ she advises, a small, close-lipped smile on joey’s face.

the lodge’s recent losses and threats meant she is even more on edge than usual, she can never be cautious enough.


// this is,, so bad & so late but i wanted to still reply. welcome to flintlock!


[spoiler=tags, updated 09/11/2021]BASICS[color=#990000]I HAD A DREAM

&. ❝ josephine elena van doren ❞ |  joey, hoey | female [ she/her ] .
&. 22 years old . | november first ; scorpio .
&. reaper of flintlock lodge .

PERSONALITYGOT EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED
&. impulsive . outgoing . femme fatale . flirtatious . seemingly emotionless . guarded . self-destructive . obsessive . hot headed . reckless . kleptomania tendencies . selfish . brat .  assertive . loyal to those close to her . intuitive . stubborn . passionate . self-preserving . quick . nosey . reliable . non-committal . determined . secretive . resentful . resourceful . distrusting .

APPEARANCENOT WHAT YOU THINK
&.  five foot six & one hundred and seventeen pounds ; reference .
↳ blonde hair just past her collarbone, grows a dirtier blonde, lightening up as soon as any sun touches it .
↳ slim, muscular build. legs on the longer side .
↳ big blue/green doe eyes, light yet well-groomed eyebrows, full lips, dimples .

INTERACTIONSAND IF I’M BEING HONEST
&.  [ 8/10 ] physically  |  [ 9/10 ] psychologically .
↳ difficulty w/ guns [ medium ] | difficulty w/ melees [ hard ] | difficulty w/ hand-to-hand [ hard ]
↳ combat information .
&. attack in bold #990000 | [member=570]scully[/member] | PM for any major plots .
&. friendly or nonviolent actions may be powerplayed .

INVENTORYIT MIGHT’VE BEEN A NIGHTMARE
&. [ 2 ] weapons | [ 0 ] armor pieces | [ 0 ] consumables | [ 2 ] aid items | [ 1 ] misc .
↳ one combat knife .
↳ a three piece throwing knife set
↳ a bracelet from her late mother, each one of her sisters has a piece to the same set, their mother having the biggest piece

RELATIONSHIPSTO ANYONE WHO MIGHT CARE
&. elizabeth van doren (npc) x malcolm van doren (npc) | second youngest of nine children .
↳ cassian van doren, eldest, flintlock .
↳ beau van doren, second eldest, unknown .
↳ range rover van doren, unknown .
↳ scarlett van doren, flintlock .
↳ tara van doren, unknown .
↳ julian van doren, flintlock .
↳ maxine van doren, just older than joey, flintlock .
↳ richard van doren, youngest, deceased .
↳ lucky van doren, cousin, flintlock .
&. pansexual, panromantic ; mongamous  . | scared of commitment, however enjoys casual fun .
&. lover to william stirling
↳ reoccurring friends with benefits.
↳ parents to rosalie willa van doren, one year old .
&. lover to theodore knope
↳ partner in the badlands
&. crushing on cassidy van den bergh[/spoiler]


I DON'T BELONG TO ANYONE,
[size=9pt]BUT EVERYBODY KNOWS MY NAME —— INFO
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