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The Marshal

[Common Frequency] New Paths

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The Marshal    351

*The Marshal stood halfway up the hill, where he'd found the best reception. He rubbed his face, contemplating. His previous message hadn't gotten much attention. Maybe this one would.*

Hello, to everyone out there today...

I made someone a promise, what seems like a long time ago.

Now, I understand what it was exactly I agreed to... and know that I haven't held up my end of the deal.

This is me trying to change that...

Despite the fact that I fear the one being I promised this to may never come back to us...

I am U.S. Deputy Marshal Johnathan Waters. Some call me The Marshal,

I've been helping my people survive in this new world. Perhaps some of them will respond to this, vouching on the offer I'm soon going to make.

For a... very long time... I questioned if I was the good guy anymore...

Everyone tells me, yes, you are. How can you not be? Really, it's quite easy....

I'm not.

We have done things... stuff of all sorts, in the name of survival.

I, myself, have done many... many things I'm not proud of, but necessary things... Things I'd do again in a heartbeat.

But what matters is the people...

*He hesitates for a handful of seconds, watching the activity of all the people in his group moving around in the town down the hill from him, going about their tasks. Working together for something better.*

People that aren't too far gone.

If you are looking for a place, I can help you. Safety is an illusion, a lie these days... but safer... That's possible, with the right people...

I will call whoever answers on this channel.

Stay alive, and... Remember. Not what you've done here. But who you were.

And what you can do.

*He flips off the transmit button, listening to the static. He rests the radio against his forehead, closing his eyes, tapping the hunk of plastic against his skull.

Time to make a difference again.*

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Devigor    1

*Nick is assuming this is not really having anything to do with him, and decides to then pretend it has to do with him*

"You know, as long as you're trying to be a good person, you're not an evil one. That makes more of a difference than you may think."

*Nick then thinks of his most recent adventure, seeing and talking with people again after nearly four months*

"I'm not really looking for safe, or safer, exactly. I am fine with a place in general. I think I'll try to avoid plaguing you all, though, unless you guys specifically want me around. Everyone seemed a bit... Well... Like you were watching a poised knife. It's a smart way to look at things. I'll stick around for a bit, if we meet up again, but I'll usually just try to stay out of you guys' hair. It was really fun spending time with you all, though. I'd not mind another day like that one bit."

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The Marshal    351

John cocked his head, perplexed. He took a breath in, transmitting.

"I think you might have me confused for someone else? Neither your voice or the detail of your situation ring any sort of familiarity with me. Do with that information as you will... Unless you're someone deemed dangerous to those around us, you should be fine. I won't tolerate anybody trying to be a menace, I'll put that right out there. I don't carry these tools for cosmetic purposes..."

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Devigor    1

"Hmm... You didn't hear about me? Maybe not. I did spend some time with some of your friends, I am sure of it. I've heard you talk over the comms before, and you mentioned the Trust... But anywho, I don't intend any more harm to you or your buddies than you do. You guys were fun, and gave me food. If you need a favor from me, anytime, I'll be listening to the radio a lot of the time. I got a little stockpile of batteries for this little radio. I'd like a bigger one, I think. A bigger gun, too, for that matter. But anyways, I think it was cool when you guys lightened up a little. Some of the gang seemed a bit lethargic, but they were mostly entertaining. Cool on you guys. I'm tired, now... I think I'll kill this Z and sleep. Nighty night-night, friend."

*A click and a thud are heard as Nick shoots the infected that he's played around with all day with his crossbow, and he gets comfortable in his bed, twenty feet up in a tree*

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Samaritan    254

*While on one knee in a treeline just outside a small village Moses listens in and intrigued he presses the send button*

"I help people too, well to those who deserve it. Those who don't deserve it get my help in a different way...The Marshal you say, keep doing what you do. Maybe we'll meet someday"

*He clips the radio back to his belt and continues to look towards the village looking for movement*

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Ender    506

::Ender sits there by a well looking down at his hands trying to wash away the blood on them. He switches to another frequency that he previously heard a friends voice on and starts to speak::

Wh... What makes a person a good person or bad person?

::his hands are shaking violently while hes still trying to wash them::

Is ... Is it ... Is it the fact you hurt people or ... or ... or the fact that you enjoyed doing it?

::he drops his radio and continues to violently scrub his hands even though his hands are clean of blood::

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RedSky    123

-Finnr hears Ender, he heard the question Yoshi once said a similiar thing and he would respond to it the same way-

I truely believe that all men are good, all of us are good.

Even tough they that act cruel, eat others, torture others, kill others and rob others.

Not because their acts are kind, respectful, vigilant, loving, caring or helpful.

But because all of them are good, we aren't born bad we are born loving and caring.

We are all born with a mother who loves us with a father that protects us.

We are raised by a family who supports us, we are giving that what they gift us.

But than why do we hurt and kill one another?

Because we lose our way,

Media corrupted us, greed misinformed us, envy made us bear pain, revenge disagreed with us.

For a single act of negativity hits us just as hard as a thousand acts of kindness.

We are not bad men for hurting those who could or did hurt us,

We are bad men because we dont give those who lost their way,

time to find a way back.

-Finnr clicks off the radio, in struggle with what he had just brought back out of himself something he had left behind-

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*Jack listens to all the transmissions and decides to chime in*

"So i'm just wondering what would someone have to do if they wanted to be in a safer place? Where would someone go to be around people that you can trust? Please respond as soon as possible."

*Jack sets down his radio in hopes of finding more trustworthy people"

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The Marshal    351

*John clicks the radio back on. The Marshal clears his throat before speaking*

"Ender, Good and Bad is all a matter of opinion. You know mine already, you know me well enough, you understand what I agree with and what I don't. Finnr also has his own opinion, it seems. Different, but no less true..."

He pauses.

"If you want to find a safer place... If you're serious about being around people, contact my group on our private frequency, 108.8MhZ. We'll talk there, find a place to meet and feel you out."

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*Merek takes his radio, pushing the PTT button, and softly says with his calm but slightly nervous voice*

"He-... Hello... Uh... I am looking for safer place, as you say... You see, I've been trough too much, and I can't handle this anymore. I am afraid I can do terrible things if I keep on the way I'm going... I need some help, and I don't seem to find it... When I heard you talking, Mr. John, I really felt that there is still a way out of my misery... What can I do in order to join you?"

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The Marshal    351

*He turns, shielding his face and the radio from the swift wind that was sweeping across the hillside.*

"Well, if you're willing to try, you've found it. As I said to the other fellow, contact my people and myself on our private frequency, 108.8. The encryption on the channel will prevent unwanted ears, we can discuss a meeting place then."

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Boston    649

*Jeffrey Brewer lay on a bed as he hears the conversations... He decides to leave a response. Swiftly, he grabs the radio and transmits...*

"Well... Mr. Marshal, tell me, do you have room in your little safe haven for people who are hunted? A place where they can rest their head and feel sorry for themselves? If so, where do I sign up...?"

*Jeff awaits a reply...*

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The Marshal    351

*Still turned against the wind, Marshal struggles to hear Jeff over the noise of his environment, his eyes following the group in front of him.*

"One thing is always constant. We always have room. We're not cut of the whitest cloth ourselves, we have our own shadows hunting us. So that's not too much of a deterrent. However..."

*He paused, his voice getting a little lower.*

"You want to feel sorry for yourself, this woe as me crap? You can do that on your own. But if you want a place to find your feet again... Let others help you to find yourself again, stand up straight once more..."

*He turned, wind catching over the transmission in short bursts.*

"We got room."

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Boston    649

*Jeff hears the Marshal's sharp response, and decides to make his services known to the man... He begins transmitting...*

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you. What about security? I feel like with a broadcast such as this, you'll have opportunists heading your way, ready to turn things real ugly... I figure kill two birds with one stone. You give me a place to rest my head, and I'll be there to help you out of a jam should there be any trouble... How's that sound?"

*Jeff stops transmitting and awaits a reply...*

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The Marshal    351

"Another gun, yeah?"

*The edges of John's lips turn up in a smirk.*

"We've put contingency plans in place for such actions. But... Having people that can handle themselves is a plus. Sounds like it's something mutually beneficial. Why don't you swap over to our private communications whenever you feel ready, 108.8. [//The Trust comms in TS] And we'll set up a meet..."

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Boston    649

"We've put contingency plans in place for such actions. But... Having people that can handle themselves is a plus. Sounds like it's something mutually beneficial. Why don't you swap over to our private communications whenever you feel ready, 108.8 and we'll set up a meet..."

*Jeff puts a faint smile on his face and leaves one last response...*

"Understood. I'll be on there in a few hours, or maybe a day..."

*Jeff stops transmitting...*

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   14

:: Ben fumbles with his radio after listening in on the conversation for a bit.::

"Hey uh, is this-" *CRACKLE* "Oh, here we go. Uhm, not to delineate from the moral discourse or anything. I mean it's good -- I  was always a Kantian type of guy, y'know, before all this shit...kinda had to rethink those maxims when infected are involved -- but I think I might be in that category of needing to run with you guys. Y'seem like a straight shooter, I appreciate that. So 108.8, right?" *CRACKLE* "How do I turn this th-" *CRACKLE* "Uh, over?"

::Benjamin Katz-Clery, in the dark silence of the apocalypse, pondered perhaps the most difficult question he had ever had to face -- How the hell do I change frequencies on this stupid thing?::

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Defiance    96

His boy had told him The Marshal was on the radio. He hadn't seen that kid much, and so at first thought he figured the worthless little fucker might have been lying to him. It took nearly two full minutes of staring before the kid finally gave in and said something worth beating him for. He kept the sawed-off loaded with rock salt in his free hand. The recoil from the salt was so minuscule that he could fire the weapon one-handed if he truly needed to. The boy had learned some respect, but if Seymour's knuckles weren't sore things just didn't feel right.

The boy had fucked off somewhere and left Seymour to his own devices. The sun beat down on his helmet as he stood in the back yard of a small house in a small town somewhere. He hadn't slept in nearly two days, and as he stood he could feel his knees begin to feel rubbery, causing him to ease his back into the rear exterior wall of the house before slowly slouching down into a sitting position.

His head began to spin, and he removed his helmet rather quickly. He yanked off his balaclava, and a greasy mop of red stringy hair emerged. His beard was long and matted like usual, although the bottom-half had been braid together. It hung stiff beneath his chin, reaching down to the center of his chest. Like clockwork, he removed a tiny plastic baggie from his vest pocket, popped it open, and scooped up some white powder beneath his thumbnail. He snorted the powder off his thumb. 

The entire time all this is going down, a radio sits nearby. Felix had tuned the radio to The Marshal's frequency, and the entire conversation spilled out before Seymour as he performed his usual duties. The cocaine made him feel better, so he stood up. He walked over to the radio and pressed in the button to begin transmitting. His voice sounded sharper than usual, but the usual gruff was still present.

" Plenty of fools always looking to trouble you, my friend..." he began. His lips smacked before he continued. "You'd be real fuckin' amazed at the liars nowadays. It ain't like the old world. Those illusions we all used to hide behind -- They ain't there no more. If you suspect you got yourself a liar on your hands...I sure would like to meet them." 

He snorted. His upper lip began to twitch. 

"Sort of man who can't be honest anymore's gonna pollute what little good we got left. I ain't sayin' I'm no fucking saint. I ain't saying that...But what I am sayin' is that the Lord is always looking to judge a man before the Devil gets to him. Ain't sure how I fit into a story like that, but what I'm sayin' is that ain't no good man out there who can't tell you nothing but the truth. It's so fuckin' easy...It's so fuckin' easy for a man to look the Lord in the eye and tell him he's right when he ain't. How many people you think been lyin' to God their whole lives?"

He turned back to face the house. From this angle, the sun had fallen behind the roof of the house and cast a shadow over the back yard. Seymour stood enveloped in this shadow.

"It's a lot harder to lie to the Devil..." he trailed off for a moment. He looked down at his hands and removed his right glove. Some knuckles were split and red with dried blood, while others were heavily scarred from a lifetime of fighting to stay alive. "...So if you need me, just holler."

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ZASWolf    9

*Mason stares out into the distance, watching the sunlight flicker between the silver pines as it slowly sets. He turns on his radio and sighs, to his surprise he picks up a transmission. He listens intently for a while until it falls silent, then calmly presses the transmit button down*

I know exactly what you mean..... *short pause* I used to think that I was a saviour, part of a cause. *sigh* But now i'm nothing, nothing at all.

*The transmission ends abruptly*

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   20

-snip'dgreatness-

Xander listens to the radio transmissions intently while enjoying one of his "cigarettes" and watching his brother snorting cocaine in the shadow of a house down the hill from his position. He exhales a cloud of white smoke and coughs as "Harry" finishes up his message. 

"It's a lot harder to lie to the Devil.... So if you need me, just holler."

At this, Xander grins to himself and grasps the radio that is secured to his vest strap. He can see Harry putting his glove back on before moving around the house and out of his sight. Before he can transmit a message another voice comes through the static. Xander does not recognize this voice, but waits until the they are finished speaking before pressing the transmit button down.

*You hear Xander exhale into the receiver before he begins speaking*

"Marshal? It has been a while since we have crossed paths, months maybe. I remember you and yours holding down that compound on the hill with the antenna. My guess is that did not last very long." He pauses as he takes another drag from the cigarette, still holding the transmit button "Who we were doesn't matter anymore. We aren't those people and we will never be those people again. Hopefully, our paths will cross again sometime soon and I can see what kind of person you've become. I sure am not the same..."

Xander releases the button and falls back into the grass. He stares up at the sky through the leaves of the tree and continues smoking.

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Combat Logo    79

-snip'dgreatness-

-snip-

*Logan sits at his table, trying to figure out how he should make his next move in his current game of solitaire. The voices come in and he stops for a moment, slowly picking up his radio. The statement gives him a feeling of worry. "This can't be good..." He presses down on the talk button, and waiting a moment before speaking.*

"Changed in what way? There's many different paths that can be taken... The question is... Which one did you take?... Hmmmm... But I guess if we are to ever find out... We'll just have to see it for ourselves... *His voice goes quiet as he talks to himself, the radio barely picking up the words.* Although I have feeling we don't want to find out..."

*He lets go of the button, and places the radio back on the table. He tries to bring his attention back to his card game, but the feeling of uneasiness still lingers.*

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The Marshal    351

*John listens to Seymour and the rest of them speak, his brow furrowing at the words of the two Northerners. Seymour didn't sound right... and King sounded like he was making a mocking threat. 'See what kind of person you've become...'

Interesting.*

"Well, Harry, I appreciate the offer. I'll keep it in mind. But one thing I've become very good at over this past year, it's dealing with my own problems. But if it's too much to handle, too much on the plate... I know how to find you."

*He paused, pondering further on the words of the other Brother.*

"It has been awhile. We held The Mountain long enough to achieve what we needed to. And as for changing... You're both right and wrong. The person you were is always there. The person you were yesterday, a year ago, ten years ago. The memories are all still there, but those memories and experiences have also made the person that you are today. Just the same with me. So yes, we will see... Individual evolution at its finest..."

*His mind worked over the words of Mason, wondering who he'd been speaking to.*

"This is untrue, Friend. Everyone attributes to something. But it takes effort to determine what is is you attribute. Do you strive to help people, or take from people, or let everyone be as they are and hide yourself away? What do you try to do in this world? And with knowing this... What are you going to try to do from this point on? Everyone has the ability to make a difference here. Remember that. You aren't nothing."

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Jack Allen    18

*Jack sits by his little campfire he made, listening in on Marshal's broadcast, he picks up the radio and takes a deep breath*

"We've all done things we aren't too proud of, Marshal." 

"Maybe some day we'll be able to sit down and light a smoke and talk."

"I am quite sure you could be surprised by how much one could change over a long period of time alone."

*Jack sets his radio down and takes another deep breath, he brings himself closer to the fire* 

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