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"Never Drive Drunk. Never GM Sober."

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  1. Friday/Saturday, 19/20th of July, 2019. (Sun has set, cannot tell if it's past midnight or not) It's... Over. After everything, after all of it. As if it were all a mere afterthought. Just like that we're free, with one simple message. ... As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end. Amen. This shall be my last entry. In the morning, this journal goes to the fire. Where it belongs. Niall Muireach
  2. FUCKING FUCK FUCKING FUCK FUCK FUCKING FUCK FUCK FUCKING FUCKITTY FUCK!!!!!!!! 3 Days since my last entry, 15th of July. After the Royalists lost the English Civil War, and yes they lost that by the way, Oliver Cromwell (may he Rot. In. Pieces.) invaded Ireland, given back then we were still part of the United Kingdom and, foolish us, supported the King that.. owned us, during that. A year of war, sieges, civilian massacres led by Cromwell later (and another 2-3 led by others in his place), during which a famine broke out, followed by the plague. Not A plague of something. THE. LITERAL. PLAGUE. The Great Famine (The Irish Potato Famine) lasted four years, 1845-1849, during which the population the population fell by over 2 million (half to dying, half to exodus to the US.. not precise numbers but estimates, so meh). So if you were a young man, or were born around then, you were old enough to fight when the US Civil War went from 1861-1865... Did you know between 200 and 300,000 of the Unions two million soldiers (over the course of the whole war) was Irish. That's 10-15%.. 20% of the Union Navy too. The same fuckers who had just gotten off the boat to come live there. Not to mention the smaller, but still present, number of Irish in the Confederacy. And then, of course, the Irish had their own Civil War almost immediately after their war for independence from British Rule. The same soldiers who'd fought and died together were fighting each other over the stupid fucking terms of the treaty. It tore the country apart, in every sense of the word. Now this last one was by far the smallest of the conflicts, but it was 10 months of war almost immediately following 2 and 1/2 years against the British (and their oh so lovely Black & Tans). And noooow the group has their own civil war, albeit a quick one; Loyalties and sides turned during this thing almost on the hour, every hour, and alliances made with.. people I care not to even fucking name. But now, well, the King is Dead. Long Live the Queen. Is it a curse in the blood? Something about being Irish? Doomed to keep getting caught up in other stupid bastards 'Civil' Wars, why can't they just kill each other and leave me alone? ------ *The handwriting for the following passage is more rough and shaky then those before it, written by a much more unsteady hand* ----- And twice I tried to use the chaos to try and slip away, for a time, to distance myself and sort my shit out while everyone else calms down. The first time I was spotted in Sosnovka, I had to refill my canteen and Alyssa's side passed through town and I was 'invited' back. I didn't have to go but it would've looked bad. And the second time I got as far as Zelenogorsk.. And I ran in to fucking Anthony. We gave each other false names but I should've known, I should have fucking known, I let slip about the group so he knew it was me, we were just outside of town heading Pavlovo way and he was limping; next time Sunny should aim higher, actually make sure the prick is dead! So he was right behind me when he pulled his gun, took me off into the woods... Fuck.. Fucking fucking shit bugger damn blast fucking of all the fucking shit outta luck stupid shit-eating fucking dumbass stupid nonsense, I get dragged into this. So now he wants me to spy for him. Tell him what happens. Be his good little fly on the wall or he'll be back for me. The sadistic prick... I returned just in time to see Ace being buried alive. They buried her alive right next to where they buried Derek, for fuck sake! She at least was let out again, but what happens if Anthony tells them I tried to escape while they were busy? What happens if they find out he wants me to spy on them?!! I don't know what to do. I can barely think straight. And why do I keep yawning?! If this is the luck of the fucking Irish... God help me.
  3. 4 days since my last entry, 12th of July. This whole camp seems plagued by more troubles then the Hydra had heads, deal with one and two come up in it's place. What is it this time? Another person going rogue, though it feels like the only difference between a higher-up and a rogue one is the latter tries to hurt the former, rather then just the grunts. Yeah, must suck when you're on the opposite end of it all. Boo-fucking-hoo. But yes, another sheep abandons the flock. It's almost as if the 'Masters' are unable to instill any sort of actual loyalty. Gee, I wonder why. Martin, this time around. Supposedly injected Ace and Mallory with some strange drug cocktail. Ace's leg got pretty beat up too, it seems, not gonna be sprinting anytime soon. Though it strikes me I've not really gone into detail about anyone in the group, so writing names isn't really going to mean much is it? Maybe that's for the best, should I ever lose this. Had another 'friendly' conversation with Drago the other day. Never let it be said first impressions are everything, given my first conversation with him was me explaining how I came to be brought into the group. I left nothing out and I spoke plainly and honestly, thought he'd appreciate that. He seemed like a no-nonsense person, and in many ways he is. But I didn't realize the old bastard was even more of a gloomy fucking misery then I am. Descends onto banter harder then a ton of bricks, make light comments around him at your own peril. My mistake was making the joke I was a 'slow learner'... Bad move. "Yeah, well you won't be a fucking slow learner around me, you'll fucking learn when I am fucking done with you.. etc. etc. etc." I just stood there, digging the garden plot for his precious fucking zucchini while he went off on one. "I always enjoy our conversations, Drago.".. He eventually went over to Mallory and... whoever the hell she was sharing a cigarette with. I overheard bits of what he had to say, cigarettes during the wars in Yugoslavia only had a few puffs in them cause snipers would use the light to shoot the smoker. That he saw a lot of people die because of it. So, a nice cheerful story of long-dead people. In a war barely anyone knows about. In a country that hasn't fucking existed for 10 years. Why don't we just talk about the Romans, if we're delving into the depths of irrelevancy. ..... Sometimes I think back to one moment I had. That one moment. But it's impolite to shoot anyone in the back. Even Romans.
  4. 4 Days since my last entry, 8th of July, 201? I know the day and month now, as four days ago a number of Americans in country all seemed confident it was Independence Day. Unsure what the point celebrating it is anymore, given the 'British Empire' is long since dead... And, frankly, the whole country seems on the brink of following. As is most of the world. But hey, here's to the celebration of High Treason, war, the death of tens of thousands and personal gain. Cause that's what it was all about, right? So happy Fourth of July. Now, on to my usual ranting. I realized Mischa is part of the group now. Nobody told me but.. Sunny made everyone awake report back to camp the other day, he was the only higher-up present and he seemed more unhinged then usual, and I didn't realize it at the time.. I was too focused on trying to worm out of it, though he saw that from a thousand miles away, made sure I didn't. But I later realized, she took part too, she reported back to camp too. This group. This abyss which nobody will ever escape as the person they were entering. Should they ever escape at all. And here I am... Neil, the idiot. Neil, the weak. Neil, the one stupidly thinking just because he feels bad about it all these vile acts, that he's any better then the rest of them. To, at least, give credit where it's due. The others, they have the spine to be the monsters Neil thinks they are. Which is more spine then he has... Will ever have. All he can do is witness it... Neil, who is good for nothing, but cowering underneath the watchtower and weeping like a child. Who every night covers his ears, because he can't bear to hear the thought they'll call for him again. Call him in to mark another one, to hurt another one. That the next one might be somebody he knows. That is might be M more then just a name. Somebody he... Do you have any idea what it's like, to be a coward? You don't need to torture one to break them. Just leave him alone with his thoughts, he'll do it for you.
  5. One small point I'd like to point out. This is not me wishing to back-and-forth, it is merely a relevant comment. I don't even stream DayZ.
  6. Server and location: S2 Sosnovka Approximate time and date of the incident (SERVER TIME): 07/07/2019, 15:45 (give or take 5 minutes?) Your in game name: Neil Murray Names of allies involved: None Name of suspect/s: @Chevybon and one other Friendly/Enemy vehicles involved (if any): None Additional evidence? (video/screenshot): None available, I had logged in only a couple minutes before and had not yet started recording Detailed description of the events: I logged in to my group's camp, turned around and had hardly moved when I was confronted with two people inside the camp with their guns drawn. One of them aiming down the sights as he was looking around. They both saw me, turned towards me and began asking me who I was and what I was doing there. I explained I was part of the group and that I lived there, which they both seemed to immediately dismiss as me 'lying'. They ask to know about the name of the group, which is something we do not throw around freely so I simply state that we're just a group of survivors and I ask who the two asking are, so I know if I can talk with them or not. The one who shot me simply replies "I'm the one with the gun." and that they already know who the camp belongs to. They've not told me to surrender, to put my hands up, made any demands or stated any consequences to me not complying or lying to them; which, since I am part of the group in question, I wasn't. So again, when they ask what I am doing here again, I say I live here and I am part of the group. Again they dismiss me as lying, to which I respond "No, I'm not lying." When one of them simply shoots me dead. While I was aware they had their guns on me at all times, I hadn't considered them to actually shoot me since they'd not acted overly hostile other then asking questions. Which I answered promptly, to the best of my ability. I just found the whole interaction incredibly odd, especially at the casual dismissal of me telling them lies (given I wasn't), but I would be more then willing to talk with the other side to sort this out, as I've attempted to do so before posting this report.
  7. The weather has been getting warmer, making it either Spring or Summer. About 4 days since my last entry... Sleep is patchy lately up due to the warmth, making my Day/Night cycle pretty screwed up. ----- I seem to dread waking up lately, each time I do I have managed to miss some big moment affecting the group and yet still quite firmly in the aftermath; Dutch is dead, he was being 'tended to' after some sort of gunfight, there was blood all over the ground. Not that you can see it now, though our resident cleaning lady was none-too-happy about the state the place was in. I never knew much about Dutch, only small overheard snippets that may or may not even be true. But he had tried to kill Mallory, and with his death we might have finally confirmed he was part of this whole 'Broken' group, but I just do not know. Him and a group raided the camp, flashbangs and smoke over the walls and storming the gate... I am unsure how it led from that to Alyssa having her gun on Dutch. Darn crazy bastard had a flashbang in his hands when he surrendered, blinded the whole camp at the cost of his hand. Not that he's going to use it now of course. Brodie and the Doc were shot, Brodie had the worst of it though but he seems to be pulling through? God... Ace was grinning like the Cheshire Cat when she came out of the building, arms with blood up to her elbows. I do not know if it was because she'd ended a threat to the group, whether it secured herself a promotion, whether she was enjoying the killing or, fuck, all of the above? But that sort of enjoyment was... Well, rather terrifying. I knew Ace was hardly the most innocent person in the world but she didn't seem capable of that. Will I become that if I stay here long enough? I see people around me I worry about because of their proximity to this. Robin, Mischa, JJ, Agnes... I know how these people work, using the people you are close to as leverage. Will they hurt LT to get to Mischa?.. Mischa to get to LT? But, I'm just one spineless little coward, what can I do? ----- And then, the next time, it was in the middle of some questioning. A new guy, Sid? Cid. Unfortunate position of wrong place, wrong time, when it seemed he'd tried to drop something off for the camp. Whilst the Broken sent us another radio broadcast. They dragged him inside and Ace... politely questioned him, wanted his story. Alyssa and Derek turned up at some point during it all. Alyssa just HAD to go and call for me, 'Oh wait.. Where's Nile? Nile come here!'.... 'Ask;' me to come in, tell them what they believe about coincidences. "We don't believe in coincidences."... Stupid thing to say, really. And they decide that the only way to be certain his story, the one he stuck with no matter what Ace did to him, was to mark him. So th--*The handwriting goes shaky, to the point of ineligibility* They had me do it. The three of them trying to even give advice, like I was trying to bake a fucking cake; You know what they say about too many cooks, right? I've yet to talk with Cid about all this, I tried telling him it wasn't anything personal-- At least what I was doing, the Broken stuff gets very personal for the bosses of course. But it might be best to leave a few days between trying to talk to him again, feelings (and wrists) might still be rather sore. All this in the span of a few days.. Not to mention the incident with Flynt and the other pricks locking me in the building with a drunk Aliana. Not going to detail that, for my own sake. My embarrassment is already bad enough , last thing I need is those arses finding out I've never--- No, best not write it down. Never know if somebody in camp is reading this when I sleep. If you do? I hope you get a paper cut, you nosy git.
  8. 3 days since my last entry. (Do not read yesterday's entry again). I just... Can't understand why they do it. Why they talk to me, try to make me feel better, tell me to find something to live for. What am I living for, when my life is at their mercy? They tell me that one day I might be told to hurt somebody, and it'll either be a stranger or me. That it won't be pleasant, but it'll keep me 'alive'. Do they think I place so much value on living I'd beg for it? Like a shameless runt? They tell me it won't be so bad. And then say some of them have been hurt for no reason at all. They say I'm protected. But I don't even know what from. They say I should talk to the other toys, make friends. While knowing friends are who the others will hurt if I displease them. "If they can't hurt you, they'll hurt the people around you." And then they get so offended why I maintain a distance. It's either I hurt your feelings, or they hurt you, and yet I'm the ungrateful one. Pardon me for not being thankful I have to force a smile and laugh alongside people who'd not care if I was gutted like a pig. I doubt they'd even care enough to bury me. They'd sooner shoot me just for--- Fuck, Ace wants to speak to me outside. I'll return to this later. *Added later in the day* Maybe they are not so bad. Not all of them. I might not understand why they care, but I believe they do. Enough to get hurt for me. That... should count for something. Maybe it will get better. But that is still exactly what I am scared of.
  9. Don't make friends, they'll only hurt them. Don't make connections, they'll only break them. Don't put any worth on your life, to them you're worthless. Don't care about them, they don't care about you.
  10. 5 days until my last entry.. I think? It has gotten hard to keep track of the days as of late. During the day I have grown so tired, dozing off on guard duty or when cooking over the fire. I fear I might have been noticed doing this more than once already. At night I try to sleep, but there is always something, there is always more. The Broken, I do not know who they are. I could not even point to a single one of them if you lined them all up in front of me. They watch us, they KNOW us, and we are blind to their actions, their faces, their names. And their fascination with chess is agonizing, warping a grand and noble game into their perverse shadowy puppetry, their secret machinations against all those around me. I don't know what to do. Enough time passes that things almost seem normal again, then something happens. Alyssa was taken the other day, held somewhere and used as bait while near all of us available ran one way or t'other, from place to place, running ourselves ragged in a desperate attempt to find them. All while hearing her in pain, hearing her pleads, hearing the captor's intentions through her. Agnes, a middle-aged woman in our group, met a strange man all in black out by the pump. Gave her a Knight chess piece and was told to give that to Ace or Sunny. Nearly prompting a manhunt for him, even though only Anatoly and.. I believe a few others? went looking, I could barely sleep that night in fear of an attack. And one of the nearby groups turned up, injured quite severely from what I was told, and muttering chess moves in her delirium. Which, in the end, could be coincidental but.. As Alyssa told me the night she dragged me to that fucking shed and carved the X into my burn. There's no such thing as coincidences. And as always there are the radio broadcasts, just to ensure we never truly feel like they aren't right there. Like they aren't just out of sight everywhere we go. The robotized, computerized?, voices, the messages designed to shake us. And the numbers, as always the numbers. I don't know what to do. I've become a pawn in this secret war of theirs, between the Broken and the Toymakers. And as I've heard Alyssa say over and over again in her fearful comments every time the Broken make another move... The pawn always dies.
  11. It was just me, a new RPer to both the group and DayzRP, with no PVP experience.. Surrounded by three people in military gear with better weapons. How exactly am I supposed to do something IC? I tried to continue the RP, given obvious Value for Life things I couldn't try to challenge them. Given they'd either increase the insults.. Or just initiate and kill me for it?
  12. If there are rumors being spread around about a group, IC, because of things they do (Or even things they don't ever do) that curries some sort of RP about the group, or drives some more interesting interactions to the group through people having these stories they've heard? then sure, okay, that's one thing. It's another when you have multiple times you have people walk up to you camp, or enter it, and direct a tirade of insults or overly sexual commentary (to the point the entire received group is uncomfortable). Spreading the rumor Toymakers are slavers? Well sure, it's not slanderous because they operate like that. Openly telling my character I don't want to leave the group because I'm 'A fat little subhuman tied to Alyssa on a leash like a little BDSM bitch' is just disturbing.
  13. All for the sake of a radio frequency. Welp... This is going to be fun!
  14. Same day as last entry. Bear with me here, Journal. This is going to be a long one. But really, where the fuck do I even start with what happened? Just one more day, Nial. Just one more before you go east for a few days. If I had any idea what was going to happen, any at all, I'd rather have walked east through the woods. In the dark. Barefoot... And naked!! I'd spent most of the early day going on another trip, Vavilovo to Vybor, through one town or another till I met some peculiar man by the name of 'Hans'.. Hanz?.. On the road around Kozlovka. Man sounded like he was a few SS short of a Reich, asking odd questions like 'Are you alone? Do you have any friends, anyone who cares about you?.. You won't find what you are looking for' I went off the road after he left, roughed it through the trees and changed my route. Just to be sure nobody was following me. Met a newly established camp, led by a man named Conor. Told him of Hanz, which somehow led into a talk about Alan Rickman. (Hans Kruber, Die Hard.. I almost forgot that movie), and then Galaxy Quest. How the hell did anyone expect, two years into a zombie viral apocalypse, I'd have a conversation about bloody Galaxy Quest? Robin and Mallory happened to pass by while I was speaking with Conor and Mitch, turns out they were heading to somewhere I'd just been to. Luck would have it I'd picked up something they were after, Oxycodone for Ace... Not sure I want to know why she needed it, but I didn't ask, Maybe I shouldn't have handed over the bottle I'd found? Too late to take it back now. Well, walked back with Robin and Mallory since I could unload some things, see if Ace got the Oxy, help Robin shift logs like last time (We ended up talking about Mel Brooks movies. If this world ever fixes it's shit, I apparently need to watch Young Frankenstein.) ----- When I was done with the work I'd leave, go east, give myself some time away. Should've done that the day before, but noooo.. Just ONE MORE DAY I said. I fell asleep again, too much work, too much stress, I should've left. I should've left. I should've left. I SHOULD HAVE LEFT. Awoke again and at first things seemed normal, more folk were about, the ones called Alyssa and Derek were present. Feels like they run things. I be polite and help out, can't hurt to be cordial after all. And then it all started... It all seemed fine right up till the horde came. Not sure how many infected it was, 60? 70? 100? They seemed to be everywhere, and the last one was barely dead when we heard this terrifying howling. Wolves, a whole pack of them, 12 or 15? I couldn't really pause to count them. They were cleared up easily enough, though one wolf got my arm, shoulder still burns like hell. After that, plus the rain and the approaching nighttime, people ended up going inside around a fire. Ace dozed off into a drug-induced nap, everyone introduced themselves (There'd been a few new faces in camp at the time, an older woman called Agnes and a man called Vlad), and somebody decided to suggest we play Truth or Dare. I've never, properly, played that game before. But honestly I was not looking forward to it. Seems I should not have worried since after two people had gone, and I was next, it seemed like the Gates of Hell itself opened up on the camp. Like something out of.. Fuck, pick a haunting movie. The Exorcist, Paranormal Activity, The Amityville Horror.. I don't fucking know, just pick one! The whispers started, insane and unintelligible, the knocking, the sounds... Alyssa went mad, going on about 'The Broken' and naming chess pieces. The King, The Knight. The Bishop. The Pawn. Everyone locked inside the house was losing it, myself being one of them, while others searched the trees and the camp for a radio. This seems to not be the first time it's happened. I thought I'd be safer inside, but maybe I should've taken my chances in the dark with the Broken. Alyssa was crazy, paranoid even, and having new faces around a paranoid person is never a good thing. They demanded to see my radio, they wanted to check the frequency. I'd taken the battery out of it hours ago, how could it have been on?! But apparently it was on 'their' frequency. The Broken's frequency. And Ace had told them she'd heard it on during the horde. Thanks a fucking million, Ace. Remind me to hide my next bottle of Oxy. If I had been sent to spy on the camp, why in the name of HOLY FUCKING GOD would I leave my radio on that frequency?! They hauled me and this Vlad person off to Myshkino, put us in some maintenance shed and.. Fuck, well even though we aren't one of these 'Broken' we belong to her now, or them? The Toymakers. The fucking Toymakers. I have to do what they tell me, or else. Because some crazy fucked up group has been terrorizing THIS crazy, fucked up group, I have to suffer for it. All for the sake of one more day. I don't know what is going to happen now. Now I know what this group is actually like, what they are capable of... God help me. Oh, and if you're listening, maybe time to be the smite-y angry God again? I've a few names for you.
  15. 1 day since my last entry. ...Where do I even fucking begin?
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