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Guest Evil_this


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Guest Evil_this

Phin couldn't stand the damned monkeys who worked under him. He loved his work, but hated virtually all the IT techs and networking analysts at Genericorp who he had to direct on a daily basis. Managing complex, advanced computing and electromechanical problems was what he did for a living, he even had the Management title to go along with it - finally. When the work day was done, for Phin, his interaction with computers was done. 10 years a hobbyist and another 10 professionally, he got all the time with computers that he wanted or needed in his life. Those idiots couldn't get enough of computers. When he came back in Monday, he knew there'd be a pile of pizza boxes and empty Mountain Dew cans left - along with the nerdstink - from the endless LAN party he'd agreed to allow in one of the conference rooms for the coming 3 day weekend.

As he drove his beat up old pickup out of the Genericorp parking lot that eventful Thursday afternoon, he left his disgust behind him. Instead he looked forward. He looked forward to spending the rest of the afternoon giving his truck a once over and an oil change, before driving most of the night to his cabin near the lake. "That's the right way to escape all those computers - some solitude in the cabin," Phineas thought to himself. He drove through traffic, contemplating what he'd spend the long weekend doing.

First, since he wouldn't get there until about 2AM, he'd take a bit of a rest, just a few hours then back up at dawn. With some coffee made on his campstove, already packed in his garage along with all his other essential gear - only needing to be loaded into the back of the truck - he'd cut half a cord of wood, getting enough set aside for his next two visits. Nevermind that he's been getting enough set aside for the next two visits for his last who-knows-how-many-visits. Better to be prepared.

By about 9, he'd be able to get off on the hunt. An hour's hike and there's deer feeding at this season - mid-day being the best for the young bucks looking to rut. If he was lucky he'd get something really big, like a bear. Then slaughtering late in the afternoon and fresh meat for dinner. Saturday, if his hunting went well, he'd get to scrape and tan the hide - an archaic art but one which he was truly passionate about. He'd have to bring the tanning frame back with him but he knew how to get it latched down tight in back.

In his Dockers-brand officewear, he wriggled his ass against the leather seatcover on his bench seat. That was one of the first hides he'd ever successfully tanned and right underneath the passenger headrest is where the arrow from his compound bow (90lb. draw, like a real man! none of that hybrid 40lb. nonsense) had taken the life of the roe buck. With his arm outstretched he wriggled a finger underneath and touched that arrowhole like he had so many times, fondling the near-perfect ring of uncovered upholstery.

Suddenly swerving, his attention back on the road, Phin looked back at the shuffling, stumbling idiot he had almost hit. Why the hell was that guy in the middle of the road? Looking to see if there were any cops or witnesses around, he noted there were a dozen or more strangely-gaiting idiots all over traffic. He realized he could hear shrieking from some other car. Dodging traffic, he got onto a side street and raced home, having no idea what was going on but seeing stumbling, stilted-walking and glazed faced people all over the residential neighborhood.

As he rounded one corner - in hindsight uncomfortably close to his home- he saw a woman in a grey jacket hunched over a rotund, fallen man. Thinking he may have been hit by a car, Phin started to stop. All thoughts of getting out to help were eradicated when the hunched-over woman looked up at him, eyes gleaming, face wet with blood. Clearly she was eating the man lying on the ground! She was eating his guts!

He had to get home, get to his guns, and sit tight (at least until he had a clear chance to break away to the cabin). Phin was glad he had a 10 gallon jerrycan of gas in his garage, ready for the trip out of town - or things might get weird when he had to stop.


The above was just one potential backstory I'll be working with. Pardon the obvious US-bias that would appear anachronistic in the fictional Eastern Bloc.

A bit about me : I started online gaming with MUDs in my early teens in the very early 90s. I stuck with one roleplaying-enforced game for about 10 years as a player, and played/admin'd/built on several MUSHes and MOOs in that time.

When Ultima Online came out, I played there for a bit, then played EQ a bit, and then played many, many more MMOs. The ones I've stuck with longest were EvE (about 2 years, starting back in 2006 or so), Fallen Earth (about 2 years as well), and Dungeons and Dragons Online (while I haven't played much more than a few hours in the past 1.5 years, I've been playing since the first closed Beta). In each of these games, I sought out or formed Roleplay Required guilds. Some of the games I even played hardcore permadeath rules (like in DDO). All of the games though, I tried my best to remain IC as much as possible and built character plots and storylines to help make that happen for those I gamed with.

At some point in my early teens I found tabletop gaming (D&D 2e). From there were all sorts of other tabletop systems and I love most tabletop gaming (barring D&D 4e and some D10 systems). I'm the one, generally in all groups, who stays in character no matter how drunk I have become, and who refuses metagaming at all costs.

So, I truly, truly hope to enjoy myself here. :)

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