Posse,

This thread is for players to post journal entries, fan-fic or anything creative along those lines. Also, pictures they think relate to the game.

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Tony
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:40, Sat 28 Apr 2012.

The Great Unknown:  The musing of Jane Guin – Chapter 1

I remember reading a quote from someone [Samuel Johnson] who once said “The great thing to be recorded is the state of your own mind; and you should write down everything that you remember, for you cannot judge at first what is good or bad; and write immediately while the impression is fresh, for it will not be the same a week afterwards.”    He was right.

I won’t go back into my past, well not much anyway, for that was a lifetime ago and I can only think of it in small segments at a time.  I used to keep a recorded journal but after…after the Hernandez homestead burnt down for helping me, I decided that perhaps the spoken word isn’t good.  It was ok back then because when you’re on your own you like to hear a voice, even if it is your own.  Now I’m with others and don’t want to disturb them.

Oh…The Hernandez homestead?  I thought it better to give them a name.   It probably isn’t their name but it’s the name that I will use for them.  It makes them seem real and not just a figment of my fever that I was suffering at the time.  I can include them in stories then.  It tells me that I didn’t imagine it and gives more purpose to what I do now.  But now their faces start to fade, not that I had a clear picture of them anyway, and soon they will get relegated to the mists of time.  Hopefully they will stay in my heart and head long enough so some day I can tell them I didn’t plan it…that it wasn’t my fault…that I tried to tell them not to save me.  To tell them that they should have saved themselves instead.

So here I am writing things down and since I am restarting a life outside of the Black Hats I will restart the journal again.  Perhaps the first thing to do is to introduce the current posse I’m hanging around with.

Roadkill – Roadkill has had a rough life and it shows.  Being out in the sun so much that it’s weathered his skin but his eyes would tell you he has seen a lot of shit go down.  I haven’t met anybody else who could look at you like he does.  With that one look you know he has sized you up real quick like.

Rowan – Rowan is interesting and our paramedic.  She believes in natural stuff and some say she is a witch.  If she is I don’t care as long as she’s on our side and doesn’t do any of that black magic stuff that I hear is around.  Whereas most of us females wear camo’s and slacks like the guys, she sometimes wears riding skirts and even if she is in slacks she still looks feminine.  I should learn that trick.  Perhaps it is the way I walk or talk?  She’s only three inches taller than I am but somehow appears much taller to me but somehow I don’t mind.  Perhaps it is her confidence or the fact that she appears to be centered all the time.  She rides in the back of the truck with me sometimes and when she does she’s good company.   She has learned the art of being quiet and bringing peace on the trips.  Some time perhaps I will even tell her that.   It’s not that uncomfortable type of silence but a settling peace.   She knows when to speak up too.  I could learn a lot from that lady if I remember to watch and listen.

The truck that I ride in is the Technical.  I like to be next to Baby you see.  Baby is my gun. With me in the back with Baby and Peter up front driving, life isn’t too bad right now.  It gives me a sense of being needed and righting some wrongs.  It also gives me chances to stare at Peter via the mirrors.  Peter…I’ll write about him later.  Lots of stuff about him but I’m not sure I want him to know that yet so perhaps I should stop here.  Just in case he finds this and starts to read it.  Note to Peter and others who are reading this.  No doubt there will be other more interesting stuff to read later in my writings so just quit being nosey and stop reading this now if I haven’t given you permission.  Besides being rude, it would get me riled up and that you don’t want to happen.  Trust me on that.

That’s enough confessions for now.   Confession might be good for the soul but I’m sure you’re not a priest and I’m not Catholic so I’ll do my confessing in my own way and time.

The Great Unknown:  The musing of Jane Guin – Chapter 2

Ahhh.  Another break so here I am writing in my journal again.  Once again it is after a near death experience.  Is that my fate?  To keep "almost" dying? I suppose there are worse things to happen but one wonders then when Fate says I'm tired of playing this game...I win.

When you almost die you start to think about weird things.  All the love that you haven't loved; all the things you should have done but didn't; and religion.  I suppose part of the last part comes from the fact that a Templar needed to help heal me.  Did that sound a little ungracious?  The Templar didn't need to heal me.  She chose to and for that I said thank you.  I knew that I was going to live before she healed me.  I'm not sure if I can describe it but I will try.

It has been said that "All religions are therapies for the sorrows and disorders of the soul" (Jung).  I can believe in that.  It is hard to have "faith" these days but the Templar's and Rowan do.  Different types of faith (I think) but faith nonetheless.  The closest thing that I come to it these days is that I recognize that there is a "being" that is superior to me.  I don't know what to call that being any more.  It is enough for me to give thanks to it and occasionally pray to it but to call it God?  Call it Gaia or Mother Earth or something else?  I don't know.  It does give slight comfort to me so do I have religion then?

I have recently gone through a wall of souls.  There was no warning nor can any one predict how it will affect them.  I was hit bad.  I don't know if those souls in that wall were from those I might have killed or if it was just some randomness to it and I won the spin of the wheel.  It was enough to give up gambling though.  Have you heard the saying "wicked soul"?  Well these souls were wicked indeed.  It felt like my body was turned inside out and rearranged like a one year old rearranges it's birthday cake.  Where they that way in life?  Or, by being trapped in that wall, did they get to be that way?  Do they ever get out?  Is that what happens to those who don't have religion?  I hope not.

I was traveling into the past and saw where it happened the first time.  I thought that I was going to find out what happened to them but I guess my time wasn't up yet for I was pulled back.  Yep, that's right.  Pulled.  It wasn't just a feeling that I had gone far enough.  It was as if i had reached the end of a rubber tether and now it was time for me to pull back.  Don't ask me how I know this but it was Rowan who pulled me back.  I just know.  It "felt" like her.  Later on I felt the healing of the Templar and it was completely different.  I owe both of them my life but if Rowan hadn't done whatever she did...I wouldn't be here.  Perhaps some time in the future I'll figure out questions to ask Rowan about it.  I want to ask questions but they haven't formed in my mind yet. When they do I will probably ask her.  Thank the powers that be that she was next to me.

So here I am, all healed up and writing in the book so I have an excuse not to go into the area and see them take care of business.  We brought some items of the Templar's that passed on in the line of duty.  I also found out that we have been traveling with a Templar and didn't know it.  Not sure how I feel about that.  Anyway I'm playing chicken out here while I straighten out my thoughts.

I would write more but I am out of space in this journal.  I'll have to get another journal before I can continue.  I wonder if I can get one here.