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Baka Neko's picture

Night of the Hunter

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((This is long. Very long. It is long because it was written by two people. It is all under my name, well, to protect the guilty. Appologies to the NFPD for using their station with asking. I did try to get in touch ingame, but as in real life there is never a policeman around when you need one. :P))



 

Keith Rawkings's picture

Dark Journeys: letters, 1

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((disclaimer: this is a letter from Keith Rawkings to Kaylee Fryes after the aftermath of a standoff in New Flagstaff. No you can't read it IC, only she can :P))

((*edit* added a song to listen to while reading. Not sure all the lyrics mean anything, it was more of the way the song made me feel while brainstorming the idea to write this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mf5YSrfj2Ns&ob=av2e  ))

 

Keith Rawkings's picture

Happy Trails (entry fiftee*crossed out* entry 16)

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((From the diary of Keith Rawkings))

Women...are vexing creatures...


It had a been a little while since I last seen Ghostlyn in tha bar. Ol Rawkings was bein a good boy. I was tryin real hard not to hit on any gals. I was hopin' ta see her again soon, but I knew dang well if I slipped up it would probably git back ta her. People talk.
But still, goin from 100 ta zero in a day is tough.

Keith Rawkings's picture

Happy Trails (entry 14)

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((From the Diary fo Keith Rawkings))

Man shit is finally startin to look in ma favor. I'm like approachin cloud nine so fast, aint no one gonna shoot me down, not even that "Maverick" from that old Top Gun movie.
Do I believe in fate? Maybe...
As fate would have it, I walked into that bar door down at Hope Springs, and who did I see sitting there?
Ghostlyn...
Hmm I jist lovee the sound a that name. Kinda gives me that goosepimples. Spooky right?

Keith Rawkings's picture

Random Rawkings

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((scribbles on paper))

 

Roses r red

 

Violets r blue

 

Some women like flowers..

 

And others...

 

Prefer to make a man's head into a canoe..

 

Keith Rawkings's picture

HappyTrails (entry 13)

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((from the diary of Keith Rawkings))

Man I am bushed! And speakin' a bush... What a night.
I don' got me some good dancin' practice with tha ladies last night at this party in New Flagstaff. Hosted by none other than tha Zombie King.  He don't look much like a zombie. More like in a trance. Good tunes though, so I aint complainin'.

Keith Rawkings's picture

As the tumble weed rolls, chapter 4

"There's nothing you can do, Keith, stand back and let them do their job" Gabriel told him as he stood in the doorway of the repair room, facings Keith's back as Rawkings watched another man slowly die on the clinic floor. The paramedics and nurses, and other clinical staff were surrounding the old man, trying to resucciate him, but to no resolve. Keith watched on in silent dismay as one of his friends was dying in front of him, and he was helpless to save the man.

Keith Rawkings's picture

As the Tumble Weed rolls, chapter three"

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Darkness...

"I have to go to work. honey.' the woman says to the man. "Be back soon."

"Not too late I hope..""

A kiss goodbye...

Floating now...

So much water...

"Not 'eer to kill ya mister. Jist takin you in."

"Well I'm not coming with you alive, sir."

"They will kill us both when you contact them."

Gunshots...

Lifecycle program...

Floating...

Floating on golden fields..

The cattle graze...

The warm sunshine on my back..

Keith Rawkings's picture

Happy Trails (entry 10)

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((I really didn't know how to write this entry up at first, so I put a whole mix of styles in. When the conversations came with Sybil I thought the chat logs were so cool (a lot of one on one character developement) that I felt it was better to just post them here. I really felt like it would give people an inside look at what Sybil is about and how she can express the stolen youth of a young girl locked up under a very tough exterior. Sybs if you dont like the chat logs being up here, tell me, and Ill take it down. I know you read up on FERP, so I hope you like this entry instead.

HungryMungry's picture

A Smile in the Desert, Part 1

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(( My first time writing an honest to goodness backstory, so have mercy on my soul. Constructive Criticism is welcome though. ))


 


The sun scorched the dried earth, blazing down from the heavens as if wanting to burn away the last trace of life from the god-forsaken planet. Six figures stood in the weakly packed dust, one knelt on the ground. A quiet gust of wind gently blew, knocking tiny particles around with no effort, causing a miniature sandstorm at their feet. The metal from a sharpened knife glared brightly in the knelt mans eyes, along with the man pressing it to his cheek.


"I'm tired o' yer' shit, Allen."


Allen looked up at the towering man, muscular from wielding heavy weapons, and baked from surviving in the harsh wastelands for so many years. He said nothing, knowing of his fate from the start.

Lost Soul's picture

Zane Richards *An Audio Log*

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*recorder clicks on, a long sigh, exhale of air, the sound of someone taking a draw from a cigarette, and another long exhale*


"Son's o' bitches.....  Didn't have ta be this way,"


*rustling of movement, sounds of boots on dry vegetation and gravel*


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by Dr. Radut