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Engel's blog

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Short notice ( OOC - IC )


Starting tomorrow I will be away for a bit and when I get back online I will probably be able to expand the timezones I play with.

IC reasoning for this absence is: "Engel can sometimes be seen around New Flagstaff, walking around as if looking for something. Instead of asking for anything specific he will wander like a hermit, mumbling and taking the time to examine every hole and every sidestreet. Who knows what he will find?"

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Riding the spiral (three weeks of gameplay)


"Given enough time, we all change.

And not always for the better."
Ardenn Neraia's player

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An angel with dirty wings


 Somewhere in Northfields, time has lost any meaning  

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The walls of New Flagstaff revisited

  Somewhere in the Northfields  

*Thump* Thump * Thump * - is the sound coming from someone banging on the metal door

There is a town in Northfields. The town is called New Flagstaff.

There is a side street in New Flagstaff. So tight that you have to crawl to get into it.

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The Prophet (3/3)



  Epsilon county, present day 

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The Prophet (2/3)



 Airspace over Grand Canyon, one day ago  

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The Prophet (1/3)



 Unknown location, far away from the Grand Canyon, two weeks ago 

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The way she rolls those cigarettes


 Random access memories, 7 days ago  

It would start subtly, the whole ritual: Her fingers would twitch nervously or she would just stare through you, not really following what you are talking about. She would nod politely a few times and then she would turn to arrange the glasses that are already perfectly arranged. You would stare at her back for a little while. Then she would excuse herself and leave the bar.

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Crossing the deadline



 The term deadline originated from prison camps during war, and referred to a physical line or boundary.
Guards would shoot any prisoner who crossed the deadline. 

 LifeNet bunker NF/4-2, almost midnight 

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  Pass Chris, last few days 

I watch them go by.

Clones really don't care about the locals of this town, their suffering and problems.

The windmills spin lazily to the wind producing a rusty "squeak" with each revolution.

The cars, bikes and ATVs go by. Always north, never turning back, stopping only to refuel their tank. Dogs bark.

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  A special new playlist and a barmaid that never sleeps - "Shots" bar has got it all! 
This location is not intended to be a permanent RP hub, but while it lasts - it's gonna rock hard!

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Broken & Subdued


I get the feeling that it's two against one.
I'm already fighting me - so what's another one?


 Pass Chris, garage workshop, late night 

Men are pigs.

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A phone booth in the middle of the desert

Her hair is a very rare hue of brown. The color of tea. She says to me: "You are a good man."

  Two hours later, a lone telephone booth in the middle of the desert 

"Is Blake dead?" - the voice on the other side of the line asks. The voice is flat and old.

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A cellar in Hope Springs


  diary chapter written on a roll of toilet paper and discarded in New Flagstaff 

Dear Boss,

Since you were gone I have been thinking a lot... Maybe I have something to do with your predicament. I am sorry about that. It's a poor excuse that I had some debts to pay off but... I spied on you. The guilt does not rest heavy on my shoulders since you must have had it coming anyway dealing with all kinds of wrong people.

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Small red note attached to New Flagstaff bulletin board

 To all the Redfields restoration project workers and their families 

The management of Redfields restoration project has been under repeated attacks by a mercenary group. We, as workers should not concern ourselves with the problems of the management or investigate who hired the mercenary group but since the funding is discontinued - it affects our jobs.

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Violent string of events on the N.F. - Picus Ridge road yesterday

(A conflict scene presented in a report format. This happened just 2 hours before the party in N.F.)

 ~16h - New Flagstaff Post office 
A Franklin Rider dispatcher could be overheard talking via radio to a Rider named "Blake" and asking him to come and pick up a parcel for Picus Ridge.

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My Blackbird Valentine


(note: the following is subjective and paranoia induced perspective of events from the New Flagstaff bar "The Tap", last night. The actual reasons for the firefight are probably different than depicted in this post.)

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Sewers exploration (mini event)


"Small yellow note is posted in New Flagstaff bulletin board:

Annual Sewers maintenance check is scheduled for today in afternoon hours. The service crew will depart from Union crier on New Flagstaff pond area. I was called to assemble a team and there is a five blue chips reward for anybody who can lend a hand with this. The reward is negotiable according to your qualifications. 


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A fresh entry in the journal


 Journal entry ( decrypted version presented here) 

I was near the mailbox, fumbling with named envelopes that contained daily wages for Redfield site workers when I came under impression that I was being watched. But there was no one around. The sensation didn't leave me though, tingling at the base of my skull. For whatever reason a mental image of my cyber-ninja savior came into to my mind. I wonder why?

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written on a roll of toilet paper


  written on a roll of toilet paper 

I don't look at her face. Sometimes I steal a glance at her hips to give me some impression about who I am talking to. She could never guess it, but I always avoid eye contact. These milky-colored irises help me hide the fact that I am not really looking at her. At all.

But I do listen.

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Short note left on New Flagstaff message board


Redfield repair project phase 1 is behind schedule! As your foreman I am to inform you that today all workers should report to the barracks and double the effort to keep up with our deadlines. Failing those will result with termination of your contracts.


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Running... through the city blocks... like a madman... fumbling with the keys... getting the engine revved up...
Tires scream... dirty, dirty city has been left behind.

The tank is empty... piece of junk is left behind for scavengers... still running... deeper into the wilderness... hate, hate, hate... I hate my stupid self... Plotting bounty hunter, playing with my mind, taunting me...

"Perhaps this person is watching you?"

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Chasing skirts (+event teaser)

  New Flagstaff, late night  

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Note left in the worker barracks in Redfield


My name is Foreman. And I am your new foreman here. I was hired to make sure nobody is slacking or cutting corners if you know what I mean. Let's get the work started since the deadline for phase 1 of the Redfields repair is already getting close. You got a problem with supplies? Let me know. If you get injured - DON'T GET INJURED!!! We can afford extra people, but we can't afford the time to go through the process of hiring key personnel.

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Don't date a CHOTA girl.


  Encrypted entry in Engel's journal
dated over a year ago 

She’s the one with the messy unkempt hair bleached by the sun, decorated with rare feathers and warpaint. Her skin is now far from fair like it once was. Not even sun kissed. It’s burnt with multiple tan lines, wounds and bites here and there. But for every flaw on her skin, she has an interesting story to tell.

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Reflex memories

  All alone not by myself  
  Another girl bad for my health 
  I've seen it all through someone else  


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The art of "no thinking"

  New Flagstaff hospital, dawn 

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A brawl


 New Flagstaff, nightfall 

There was a low, almost wet sound as the elbow connected with Engel's chin, sending his straw hat flying to the oily pavement bellow. Soon enough he will follow it down, he knew that resistance is futile. But not just yet. A knee to his lower abdomen and yes... he went down alright,  throbbing in pain.

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Shanty poetry

Someone scribbled this bad "poem" on a rusty door next to the garage in New Flagstaff:

The Moon

The Moon shines down on us,
And sens sende sends us all mad.
We dance and sing and fuck,
And then we set things on fire,
And try to kill each other.


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by Dr. Radut