bury a friend — open, joining.
#1
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]tw death, blood, choking(?) eh.

Happiness, it just wasn't meant for broken people.

Hadn't he learned that when he was a mere child? When he'd recalled his parents, his favorite memory of them was supposed to be the ones where they'd disciplined him softly with a tickle to the stomach afterwards, not him taking an axe to them. His father thought he was being a father by teaching him how to be a man, and when it wasn't enough punishment followed suit. His mother? Well, she was a kind woman who believed solace was everywhere where the statue of a man on the cross that apparently existed was. Her answers the first time Daniel had been slapped so hard, a bruise marked him for days was to pray. And it wasn't even for his father, but for Daniel to be the son that his father wanted him to be. And Teddy? She had so much potential. Had been the only person he'd cried for as he watched the life drain from her eyes due to him. If a better place existed, he prayed she was in it. He promised since, that no other person would grant him happiness. Happiness, it brought you vulnerability and when you lost that person, life goes on but there's always that scar.

And then he met Sarah.

It was in no way, love at first sight, if it'd been loved at all. Just like her brother, Keenan, she expressed a similar distrust towards him as she should have, but there was goodness in her heart that allowed her to take him in anyway. Fix him up anyway. And eventually, fall in love with him anyway. Daniel, in his vulnerable state, knew he felt something for her. As he healed, he fell head over heels for her. She reminded him or someone, soft voice and sharp tongue, someone he never quite got to know but had they had the right timing, being Daniel in his vulnerable state, he could have loved her. Like he thought he loved Sarah. She made him happy, and when her brother mysteriously passed, she relied on him just as much. A life in the apocalypse such as this? It was no life at all, however, and shit is bound to go awry. He lost Sarah way before her death. Daniel had a bullshit detector, could tell when people lied through their teeth because he'd done it all his life. She'd taken in a stranger, similarly to how she'd taken in him and in his suspicions, placed the blame on him made him feel like he was fucking crazy until he found the proof, this man and the love of his life in the bed together.

That man? He was shot. But Sarah? Similar to Teddy, he'd wrapped his hands around her neck in a fit of rage. Her eyes bulged, attempting to claw at his hands, both her tears and his own a sickeningly sweet mixture, a last goodbye. Teddy had been the last time he cried, now it was Sarah, and while he could find closure in Teddy, Sarah wasn't quite so easy. He'd stayed in their house, reminiscing for days. Throwing shit, ripping down photographs. How could she have betrayed him like that? Taken him in, pretended to love him, and when his back was turned whisper the same words to another? And how could he be so stupid to believe in her? He knew he couldn't stay here forever. So finally, he changed his bloodied sweatshirt and tended wounds left from things he'd broken before gathering his backpack with no particular place set in mind, eerily quiet for someone like him. Cold. Lonely. Vulnerable.

It was more than easy for an NPC to stop him in his tracks. "You've stepped into Flintlock territory, what's your business here?" This shit again. Except, he has no energy to fight, although he easily could. His body, it still aches with rage but he's more exhausted and — wait why did Flintlock sound so fucking familiar.

[b]"Have no business, really. You groups need to do better about marking your territory. Maybe like, a welcome sign or something. Yellow snow?"
He deadpans, receiving a frustrated grumble to 'shut up'.


[align=center][font=arial][I]so, i heard the world doesn't revolve around me /:
Hoot loves your aesthetics
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#2
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]( rLLY rushed sorry des )

"Huh, you're tellin' me." Commented the Southerner as he walked up behind the other NPC. He did not wish to prod strangers with the whole "name and business" spiel; he was not used to the ways of these communities yet. Back at his family barn, their family asked similar questions of travelers, but were usually more open to letting them stay and share a meal at their table. Jay wasn't the friendliest person, but he was not the most cruel, either. He wouldn't prefer to let a man wander around the mountains and freeze to death.

He glanced around and shrugged, sighing, "I think the others would throw a temper tantrum if we let ya' wander around aimlessly around the Lodge, so you could either turn around or come inside 'n get warm." More quietly, he added with a raise of his brows, "I'd go with the second option, if I were you."


[align=center][Image: ytyBp1j.png]
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#3
[align=center]
[I]clever as the devil
and twice as pretty     
[B][I]High heels, big deal, I'll kick your ass
[b]"Hello boys" greeted the Australian as she came upon the scene. She hadn't been with the lodge for very long, but she had came face to face with a potential joiner before. Blake looked at the NPC, tossing her head to the side as if to tell them to hurry off. They needed Hayley eventually didn't they? May as well send the NPC to get her, or Jackson, but preferably Hayley. She tugged on her jacket a bit as she joined them, still not completely used to this cold. Well, would she ever?

She nodded along as Jay gave the stranger his two options, yep. She'd suggest he take the second one as well. "We'll need weapons if you wanna come in though." she explained, hoping this went as smoothly as last time had. Though she doubted it. "A name would help too, don't 'cha think? Get the...familiarities out of the way, yeah?" honestly, for her, this could be taken as her being polite or her slowly starting to flirt. Either way could make sense for her.

The suggestion she had made before may have been said with a small smirk, but she was usually good at hiding such emotion as quickly as she could. Mostly because that was her flirting and that's probably not what she should be doing right now. This guy could try to kill them...a terrible choice, but still one they may make.

If her mom taught her anything good, it was to be polite, or well, practice what you preach? Something like that. Well, whatever it was, she decided to introduce herself "I'm Blake, I'd appreciate if you'd cooperate with us, hm?" she smirked "You seem like you'd be fun to get to know" a simple observation of course.
[color=transparent]thes code


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#4
[align=center][div style="width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-family: calibri; font-size: 8pt; color: black; line-height: 22px;"]☁  hayley had once believed that, that the broken and the damaged were somehow unable to attain happiness. try as she might, no drink, no place, and sure ass hell no man had ever made her truly happy. they were all things that killed time until the next distraction, and she'd been entirely content with that for so long, entirely content with not needing happiness. but then, as any mother might say, hope was born and all of the sudden those distractions didn't really matter anymore. the infant that gurgled as a form of communication, who smiled reflexively and nodded off during breakfast, she had, in fact, made hayley happy. and jackson was... there. an old distraction that she was beginning to actually like, someone who cared about her, someone she figured she might one day be able to care for the way he deserved. she liked jackson, she did, but he wasn't the source of her joy.

as she approached, her eyes shifted over the man's figure, a brow quirking just a bit. anyone who knew her knew she had a type; dark hair, some facial hair, and a hell of a smile. and this one, well-

❝ahem.❞ jackson spoke up from beside her, and hayley didn't even bother to look away from him, not even bothering to entertain jackson's very high school-esque jealousy. sure, he had a reason to be, even he couldn't deny the sight of daniel, but it didn't mean she was going to deal with it.

❝i'm dating you jackson, that's enough,❞ she said, words directed at him, before stepping forward. ❝like they said, we'll need your name and your weapons if you want to come up. or you can continue to brave the mountain, and all the things living on it.❞ she said simply, hands stuffed in her pockets, breath billowing out a smoky color in the cold air. ❝i'm hayley, i'm in charge here.❞


[b][i]make your girlfriend mad tight, [color=#4A272E]might seduce your dad type
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#5
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]Finally, some hospitality! Despite his aloof disposition, Jay is the first person that inattentively talks him down from grabbing the idiot nearest to him and shoving the barrel of the man's gun against his head. when frustrated, he's impulsive, not smart, and he's fully aware if he were to threaten this community, there'd be a slim chance that he were to live. now, there was plenty of of idiotic ways that he nearly died, but he doesn't want to die due to a gunshot. where was the gratification in that?— so right, jay. thanks for that. and it makes sense. even the most clusterfucked southerns had that notable hospitality. he's settled in the home of one before. he wonders how far the man is from home, as he certainly couldn't have been born here, but it was easy to stereotype. Daniel hated the cold and yet, here he was, trembling under four layers of it.

It seems that, even when the world died, good genes didn't go with it. even in all his misery, Daniel is stirred by a pretty face when he sees one, her hair contrasted an bright orange from the white scenery, gently caressing her hair like a crown. Daniel is not oblivious to it— it's familiar; the way she walks, the way she talks, the inviting nature of her eyes. she likes what she sees, and it's not as if the feeling isn't mutual. had circumstances been right, he'd be so narrow-minded to be convinced to join this welcome-committee alone, but there's this pain-staking reminder that she's not Sarah, and flirting with her? it feels wrong. Instead, he simply says, "Nice name, Blake. Fun is a way to put it. Giving up my weapons doesn't seem too fair, though." They wouldn't be the first group to have established this with him and if it were an absolute necessity he'd do as he's told, however it wouldn't go without his input. he rarely felt threatened, even with guns in his face, but what about those who did?

His gaze shifts from Blake, to Jay, landing onto a child who kinda familiarizes him with one he's known once before, if not a little older. what had his name been?— Gilbert. he's seen a few children since that one, and yet none of them ever obtained that same spark that Gilbert did. What was that spark? Trauma. Maybe. Ten years old, and he'd held a baby in a sack, doing best he could despite it's ultimate mortality. Poor kid. He hoped he was okay, wherever he was. Not-Gilbert aims his staff at him, ready to probably-fail at protecting what's his. And then.... and then—

Jesus Christ, there must be something in the frozen water here. Hayley saunters in like she owns this place and very quickly, he learns that she does. Beside her stands a man who doesn't seem convinced by what he sees, but Daniel's attention doesn't linger to her very long. The last woman of authority he'd been around, he'd stargazed with her, then slept with her, passion inflamed by their similar aspirations to what they wanted the Badlands to be. She hadn't been as graceful as who stood before him now, and so with the leader herself right here, he has two obvious options.

"Alright." Heaving a sigh, he starts with his left boot, pulling out a piece of glass he'd kept for safe keeping. then, he reaches in his left, pulling out a pocket knife. Never knew when you'd need that. Next came the gun. Well, guns. Two, where one had been the bastard who stole Sarah while the other had been his. Finally, the one that was strapped on his back, something that couldn't be removed without stripping his backpack. He pulls it slowly over his head as NPCs watch with uncertaintly, tension lingering even after he places it on the ground. "My name is Daniel by the way, wait—" He reaches into his pockets. "Okay, I thought I might have still had something there. But safe to say that I'm clean. Just for you." His eyes linger on Hayley.


[align=center][font=arial][I]so, i heard the world doesn't revolve around me /:
Hoot loves your aesthetics
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