ic notes and random gab

Does anyone else wonder why we were chosen?

Why was it us?

They could have sent the messages to anyone. To the elders. To someone else.

Do people really find hope here, in this place? Those of you that have been here longer, is it really everything you wanted it to be, no sneaking, lingering regrets at the back of your minds? Or is this just another lie to cling to as you try to tell yourself that your choices were the right ones? That there's nothing else you could have done, that it's all worth it in the end?

Perhaps I'm putting too much thought into it. After all, it isn't as though we can simply leave now can we?

[Because someone is getting used to phones, here comes that dreaded inadvertent posting. A feed of a dark haired half-elf shows, her brow furrowed as she slides her fingers across the screen. She's jostled by something off screen, and the phone tumbles out of her hands. Over the sound of plastic hitting floor, her voice rings clear:]

Shit! Shit! Shit!

[The phone comes to a stop and the black snout of something brown furred creeps across the corner of the phone. The woman's voice rings in warning:]

Trinket...

[Trinket, however, does not heed the warning, and the screen goes black with the sound of plastic jostling about for several long moments before bright light breaks through. The phone has been thrown and skids to a stop, the screen wet. From its place on the floor, it give a perfect shot of the woman crouching down and giving an incredibly large armored bear a good scratching and petting on his scruff.]

Awww, buddyyyy, I've told you. You can't just keep putting these things in your mouth. [She continues to make cooing noises at the creature while he gives her low, but happy, growls in return. He practically looks like he's smiling. Finally, she reaches for the phone and, with a very obvious grimace at the wet state of things, runs her fingers over the screen and the feed stops.]

Does anyone know how to spar? Or is there a place where I can partake in physical fitness?

Hey.

If you're reading this, then congratulations. You're one of few candidates who might just join my awesome crime-fighting, peace-keeping team.

And if you're wondering who I am, check this puppy out.

Yeah.

That's me: Batman.

Nice to meet you.

Questions?

Anyone else bored? I'm in need of a bit of a rough and tumble, and rumour has it there's monsters in the sewers of Ravenmoore!

Now, I know we're not meant to be going vigilante, but I think in a case like this, a bit of an angry mob is justified. Those monsters could come up through the loos! They could eat children, and puppies! Cut off the power supply to our traffic lights! We must put a stop to this. For the children and puppies!

Any residents of Ravenmore, Brightford, and Summerbridge are more than welcome to join me. Just grab your guns, axes, pitchforks, crossbows, and/or your weapon of choice, and we'll pick a meeting place for sundown. Just no swords! We've been specifically told that swords are the weapons of brainless yokels.

Speaking of, sorry those of you from Everdale. I've heard the lot of you are all sodding barbarians with fluff for brains, and that you use swords. As I've said, swords are a very distinct 'no no'. You'll just have to pummel each other at ye olden time tavern to get your kicks. Besides, we've got cars here. Can't have you showing up and thinking they're big metal dragons. I'm sure you all understand.