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*Lo dusted off her pants and jacket with aggravated effort. After her recent tumble they were looking a bit worse for wear. She narrowed her eyes at the over-sized sword near her feet, the cause of her newly tattered clothes and the dirt on her face. Sighing, Lo pulled free the Radio from her damaged jacket flipping through a few frequencies before deciding to press down on the PTT.*

Uhh ... 

*She started, unsure but cleared her throat to continue.*

Pish Posh? You alive out there? I think I heard one of your men say you're doin' a little bad but you're still kickin'. Hmm ... I think I might have something you'd like. You know? A pick me up.

*She moved to grip the sword handle, admiring the engraving on it's hilt before returning to the radio.*


*She misprounced the surname as she read it outloud.*

That's you, right? I'm pretty sure. When Taz and I left that church and I woke up, I had this cool sword thing with me but ... Uh, it's a little top heavy for my tastes. Do you think, maybe you'd like to take it back? I'll make a trip to come see you, and your friends. Also, I promise I haven't been opening cans of spaghetti or killin' infected with it. 

*She stared at the flecks of blood and/or red sauce on the blade, blinking a few times.*

I swear

Ahem. Just let me know when and where, okay?

*She released the PTT and moved to place the sword on to her back with difficulty.*

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*Daley presses the PTT Button* 

" I swear, all I hear nowadays is your voice over the radio...

Suppose it's a good way to get a shag...

Fuck know's really...

Cool sword thing eh? I'll give you a henry for that... Standard... 

*The radio would fall silent, as Daley picks up his pad and pen and writes " The slapper over the radio "  and laughs to himself*

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*Ashford swipes his new cane back and forth with all due vigor, thrashing out at the infected swine that dare disturb his serene sphere of nobility. Unperturbed by the aristocrat's undignified flailing, the deceased gentleman turns the other rotting cheek, watching on with cold indifference as the young Lord wears himself ragged. Arrayed around him in a circle, his loyal Cavaliers spectate the pitiable display with a growing sense of tedium, forbidden to intervene on pain of court martial.

Bored beyond measure, Legrand flicks through the various frequencies, listening for anything which might relieve the crushing monotony. Catching the tail end of Lo's transmission, Hervé scuffles with the crude device, his thumb finding the transmit button.*

"One moment mademoiselle.."

*Nervously shuffling over to the foul tempered Englishman, he stands with his arms folded behind his back.*

"Excuse me Capitaine, this may be of interest to you.."

*Edwin keeps his focus upon the advancing foe, though this does little to mask his evident displeasure.*

"Can you not see that I'm presently engaged in a duel?"

*Mastering his emotions, the Frenchman audibly swallows his rising indignation*

"I can see that sir.. However.. The matter concerns your sword."

*Hesitant to admit defeat yet undeniably fatigued, the patrician relents to the allure of curiosity. Turning, he liberates the clunky radio from the Frank's grasp, his ordinarily pale features reddened with exertion.*

"Keep him entertained, I shan't be long."

*Thrusting his rudimentary walking stick into the man's idle hands, Edwin allows Monsieur Legrand the privilege of curtailing his restless opponent.

"Good Afternoon. This is Lord Captain Ashf-argh-d!"

*Clutching his wounded side, he stumbles through the throng of redcoats. Deprived of the adrenaline which sustained his fury, the nobleman quickly succumbs to the weight of his ceaseless pain. Ever diligent to his master's whims, Mr Nice steps forwards with a folding chair.*

"Much obliged."

*Muttering his reluctant gratitude, he waves off further assistance, stubbornly determined to lower his own stiff frame into the proffered seat.*

"My Quartermaster informs me you have news of my blade."

*The Captain continues his inquiry, voice carefully poised so as to belie the true extent of his suffering, preserving his rapidly diminishing dignity.*

"What can you tell me?"

*Ashford releases the PTT with a deep, sorrowful sigh, gaze turned skyward as he awaits a response.*

Edited by Aristocrat

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3 hours ago, Beni said:


*Lo stumbles again for the umpteenth time cursing quietly under her breath and shrugging one shoulder to readjust the sword strapped to her back, while maneuvering awkwardly she could faintly hear her radio going off. Doing her best with one hand carefully holding the blade of the sword behind her self in place she artfully reached into her coat with other prying free her radio, the last portion of the man's transmission blurting out loudly. She scowled at the words, pressing down her PTT.*

I spend a lot of time alone these days, okay? I don't get much social interaction unless I have my radio on me... And I can tell you I run out of batteries a whole lot. 

*The noise of shuffling can be heard as Lo attempts to keep her self adjusted.*

Ugh ... Anyways, What's a shag? Who's Henry? Why are you using weird words? Am I supposed to know what all that is? 

2 hours ago, Aristocrat said:


*Lo cleared her throat, after listening the French man and Pish Posh on the radio she cocked a brow at the commotion and conversation she had heard, but moved forward to address them either way making a quick stop by the side of the road, slumping forward and grabbing the sword at a angle from her back to allow herself to sit down somewhat normally.*

Hng, What are you doing Pish Posh? Ack, this ... stupid thing. Why do I heard smacking? Why are you yelling your last name at me, don't yell at me! Did you fall over or somethin'? Even when you yell you still sound super fancy, Pishy. 

Anyways, your sword. You know, the one with your name on it? I happen to have it. I had a replica from the castle at one point but now I have yours, and before you ask me no. I didn't take it! Taz musta grabbed the wrong one. After the ...Church fiasco I was knocked out cold, my head still hurts...But yeah, he was in a wee bit of a rush. 

*She stammered for a moment, seemingly not knowing what else to tell Ashford, the static buzzed through in place of silence.*

Uh, yeah. W-where are you guys at? I mean... I'm certain you're not at the church anymore, right? 

*She released her PTT, sighing exasperatedly.*

Edited by Brayces

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*Ashford covers his weary visage with a gloved hand, shaking his head dismissively.*

"What on God's good earth are you talking about woman? My sword is right her-"

*He pauses, recollection dawning upon his frazzled mind.*

"Miss Haze, is that you?"

*Edwin sits bolt upright in his chair, his composed countenance startled by the possibility of a spiritual visitation.*

"By jove! You're alive."

*Smoothing back his unkempt hair, he chastises his earlier brashness.*

"We feared the worst when.. Well.. It happened."

*Stroking his stubbled chin, he takes a moment to ponder, collecting his troubled thoughts.*

"This business about my sword.. what do you mean by-"

*Shrill cries punctuate his incomplete sentiment. Directing his gaze towards the source of the disturbance, he watches as Mr Legrand wrestles with his former sparring partner, urgently trying to keep the creature's snapping jaws from disfiguring his face any further.*


*Alert and ready, Mr Peterson draws the claymore bequeathed to him by Ashford for his valorous actions at the Church. Sunlight dances off the blade as he swings it overhead, bringing it down on the rotting blighter's brittle skull.*

"What the deuce?"

*Ashford watches dumbstruck as his treasured family heirloom shatters, sending sharp shards of steel in all directions. If he had not been sitting down, its discarded pommel would have surely ended him.*

"Egad! My sword!

*Edwin laments his fallen weapon, watching in dumbstruck horror as the poor infected blighter stumbles around with his head semi-bifurcated, his clumsy, clownish existence residing in the grey area between undeath and deathdeath.*

"I uh.. Do believe I comprehend the issue.."

*Leaning down, he picks up a fragment of the broken blade, his thumb brushing over the cheap, stainless steel, commonly used when constructing replicas.*

"..Best we keep this to ourselves for now."

*The youthful Lord discretely pockets the steel splinter, observing quietly from the sideline as Mr Nice attempts to clean the blood from the squalling Frenchman's eyes with a dainty handkerchief. All whilst Peterson screams profanity and empties an assault rifle clip into the gurgling remnants of the would-be duelist.*

"This evening perhaps? A few hours from now.. In the town where I encountered you and the sergeant."

*Ashford slowly releases his thumb from the PTT, his knuckles white with tension.*

Edited by Aristocrat

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*Henry is sat in a hunting platform drinking from his hipflask. He looks down at the half-finished 'surgical procedure' on his thigh, dreading that he'll eventually have to dig the bullet fragments out. He sighs as he hears the conversation on the radio, and presses the PTT.*

"Mr. Ashford. Nice to hear your voice once again... Was wondering what happened to everyone."

*Henry is heard coughing and spluttering over the radio as he grunts in pain from his leg*

"Don't worry, I know where you boys are, don't you worry.... You still there Daley? Haven't heard from you in a while, we need to catch up my friend."

*Henry releases his PTT, throwing his radio across the platform and looks down at his leg. He places his bandanna in his mouth and grits his teeth while he draws his machete. And begins cutting the bullet fragments out.*

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23 minutes ago, InnKinn said:


*Daley presses the PTT Button*

" H... H...H...H..... Don't ever say my name over the radio.

But yes, yes we do need a catch up. I'll give ya that kidda,

You know this lot then?

*The radio would fall silent* 

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1 hour ago, Aristocrat said:


*Lo listens patiently to Pish Posh and others on the radio, she grins widely in hearing that he was surprised at her survival. Pressing down the PTT her smile can be heard through her words.*

It's me! Yeah! Me!

*She chuckled heartily, something she hadn't done in a while.*

I'm alive and well! I'm happy to hear you're ... Somewhat normal right now! Uhm, I'm not to sure who's screaming ... And who's shooting, but don't worry your secret is safe with me! I'll do my best to meet you in that town we met in and then you got into a fight with Shane in- Ah, well. You know... I hope we don't have any other ... visitors ... This time.

*She pauses for a moment thinking about the others on the radio, humming softly before speaking up again.*

Wait, is that the guitar man I hear? He's a good player! PishyPosh! Tell guitar man he plays REALLY well! I loved listening to him!

*Rolling her eyes Lo recalled the the other man who stammered on the radio, she huffed audibly before releasing the PTT, not bothering to respond to him.*

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