Chaplain and Clot's tent   Posted by Master of Ceremonies.Group: 0
Master of Ceremonies
 GM, 58 posts
Wed 12 Apr 2017
at 16:16
Chaplain and Clot's tent
Situated near Rum's tent along with the rest of the living tents,the place Clot and The Chaplain rest their heads is a medium tent propped up against and old wooden cabin.

Originally meant for four the latest roommates caught a face full of high velocity car courtesy of the blast brothers.

Though a little cramped,each person has a partition between bed spaces for privacy.

What does each persons bedspaces look like?
How is it decorated?
What memento's of their travels are there?

This message was last edited by the GM at 18:49, Wed 12 Apr 2017.

Clot
 player, 60 posts
 The Angel
 No Harm
Thu 13 Apr 2017
at 05:49
Chaplain and Clot's tent
Clot's side is somewhat pragmatically decorated, with a few field manuals, books on various medical concerns like first aid, toxicology, the occasional bit of alternative medicine on the off chance it wasn't utter bullshit. Angel stuff. The shelf was small, no more that about 2x2x1 feet at a glance.

Atop the small shelving was a box of miscellaneous teas that she often gave people who needed to take the edge off without getting blitzed on whatever gutter swill they had laying around. All it needed was one of those chem boilers that came with a milspec ration. Of course, it was better over open flame, but the chem boiler sanitized the liquid more efficiently and in a shorter amount of time.

She had a faded purple folding chair that was almost always deployed in the opposite corner from her bed, as well as a polymer folding table that was almost always stowed behind the chair unless she was hosting strip poker (Probably a great deal more common for Clot than going out to party).

On that subject, Clot hadn't insisted on having the partition in the first place, as "modest" wasn't a word that really fit Clot in most regards. She'd accepted it without complaint though, because she took a "to each their own" attitude. The most frivolous feature on any of her possessions was the occasional patch sewn onto something--a grey anthropomorphized kitten with a faded pink or purple dress code.

She entered the tent, stepping to her side before unceremoniously pulling her shirt and duffel off simultaneously, and tossing them both to her chair. Then, becoming a silhouette behind the partition, she slumped over to her bed "Aah, another day, another 70 cents." she joked under her breath. She couldn't remember whether the joke was about gender wage gap or taxes since both situations had been largely inapplicable by the time she was born.

This message was last edited by the player at 20:18, Thu 13 Apr 2017.

The Chaplain
 player, 48 posts
 Gunslinger
 The Chaplain
Fri 14 Apr 2017
at 11:29
Chaplain and Clot's tent
Chap sat down on the stiff portable cot that was his bed.  He hadn't slept on anything with a real mattress in month, maybe longer.  In fact, he couldn't sleep on them, they were too soft and often smelled funny.  It creaked under his weight but held.

The partition made him claustrophobic though and wish Rum hadn't insisted.  He felt like he couldn't stretch his arms out and his wide frame constantly brushed it.  His footlocker was adorned with ancient symbols he felt were significant, and an old sticker that he thought spelled "coexist" (he wasn't entirely positive because symbols were used in place of the letters and Chap tended to be rather literal) and made him chuckle remembering that he found it in the den of slavers that he was paid to 'persuade' from their lives of sin.  Well...he smiled knowing they definitely stopped after having meeting him.  Popping open the footlocker, he pulled out some beads with a cross and ran his fingers through them, working them in a loop.

It was one of those few items he had taken for a job that he wouldn't really trade away.  Some dirt farmers back east had lost their daughter, and he had taken the unusual charity of finding her, and surprisingly she was alive, though she had been put through the ringer several times.  It was a hard life, but the girl was tough and the mother had apparently known of the Chaplain and offered the only thing she thought he would value.  Well he did.  Gabs, that was the girls name.  She'd be almost a full grown woman now he thought.  He shook off the reverie and looked at the other oddments he had collected over the years.  Religious tomes, holy candles warped by time and heat, even some bottles of supposed holy water were collected.  He didn't keep much else but he studied the relics in the vain hope of understanding something greater than himself.

The rest of the room was spartan to say the least.  He kept a couple of ammo boxes, a small collapsible table he worked his weapons on with an old metal collapsible stool, and a few blankets he used for warmth or as a pillow.  The one notable exception - his pristine Velvet Elvis.  Clearly the Velvet Elvis was a rendition of the prophet from his early years, and had even been told the prophet Velvet Elvis had created lasting and beautiful works.  He'd heard his words once on an old music box, and it had been glorious.  The Chaplain knew from that point forward the man had been blessed with the voice of god.  He looked at the painting and gave his thanks: "Thank you, thank you very much" and finished it with a little holy hip wiggle and bowed his head.

Guns and belts hit the table, but he kept Judgement strapped on his leg. "Clot!"  He called at the silhouette.  He couldn't lie that he enjoyed the shadow show as she moved and was glad she wasn't bothered by it.  He might be older, but he wasn't dead.  "Clot, we should eat something.  What do you have?"  He looked at his own food, some weird swamp bread that tasted funky even when freshly made, several cured strips of meat, and an assortment of scavenged canned goods he seemed to always stumble on, there labels long since gone making ever can a surprise.  "Wonder whats in the mystery cans..." he mumbled.

This message was last edited by the player at 11:29, Fri 14 Apr 2017.

Master of Ceremonies
 GM, 62 posts
Fri 14 Apr 2017
at 11:41
Chaplain and Clot's tent
Looking at the partitions separating the tent into 4,The two notice that the canvas walls between them can be unhooked and removed,giving them a quite a bit more space,if a little less privacy.

A small firepit sits outside their tent,benches of crumbling cinder blocks placed around it,covered in ancient cushions and cloth for comfort.

When it's not used for cooking most people use it as a place for drinking rot gut while trying to remember better times.

Once a beautiful girl come round and sung.
You wonder where she went.

This message was last edited by the GM at 11:47, Fri 14 Apr 2017.

Clot
 player, 61 posts
 The Angel
 No Harm
Fri 14 Apr 2017
at 15:47
Chaplain and Clot's tent
Clot, having barely payed any attention upon entering the tent, jumped at Chap's voice then chuckled at the prayer. The angel did her own little booty shake, half out of respect and half out of amusement. She hadn't got completely naked, and usually kept on boxers anyway. She got up from her cot and went to search her duffel, becoming partially visible in the process. "Good thing we didn't go out today, all I got here is kit, barter, and the rainmaker." she muttered under her breath after rifling through it. Then Clot turned around to look at the foot of her bed where her own footlocker would be. It was small enough to slide under, which it seemed to have done so.

She reached under her bed for a handle, which she found in short order, and tugged. "Aah!" she exclaimed, losing her balance before falling backwards onto the ground, barely bumping the tent pole and causing the tent to shudder slightly, as well as her breasts. She laughed. Opening her footlocker, it wasn't much better. a white packet with the letters worn off "egg" scrawled in black, a golden tin can, two bricks of hardtack. "Not much. Some powdered egg--needs water and maybe some flour though, some of that shitmeat--what do they call it, Sham? Cram? and some wheatbricks." She looked toward the tent entrance "Who is that chick?"

This message was last edited by the player at 15:48, Fri 14 Apr 2017.

Dusk
 player, 38 posts
 Harm 0 | XP 1
Sat 15 Apr 2017
at 03:42
Chaplain and Clot's tent
Dusk pokes her head into the tent and winks at Chap. "You mind if I drop by for a bit?"
The Chaplain
 player, 50 posts
 Gunslinger
 The Chaplain
Wed 19 Apr 2017
at 11:08
Chaplain and Clot's tent
Chap gives a brief and genuine smile when Dusk shows up.  "Glad you had time for me.  Rum keeping you busy?"  He nodded over to the half naked Clot and smiled again. "You remember Clot right?"  He looked at the two girls and smiled.  Well, this could be interesting...
Clot
 player, 67 posts
 The Angel
 No Harm
Fri 21 Apr 2017
at 01:48
Chaplain and Clot's tent
"Oh hey Dusk," Clot called from amid the pile of food on the floor that she had created "We were thinking about what to eat. Learn anything? Also, do you maybe know who that random songstress that goes around the tents might be?"
Dusk
 player, 43 posts
 Harm 0 | XP 1
Fri 21 Apr 2017
at 02:35
Chaplain and Clot's tent
Dusk slid onto Chap's bunk and shrugged off her coat, revealing the slightly tattered white tank top underneath. "Eh, Rum's worried. Some idiot keeps getting hurt out in the Chalice and Rum's suspicious of foul play. Wants me and Momo to ask around." She raises an eyebrow at Clot's bare chest and looks at Chap half-accusingly. "Probably Jez, she's been dropping by the Ragtime Gal looking to sing for her supper."
Master of Ceremonies
 GM, 73 posts
Thu 27 Apr 2017
at 16:06
Chaplain and Clot's tent
The night passes quickly  and apart from a small commotion somewhere on the other side of the camp,relativity uneventfully.

The morning after the smell of cooking meat fills the air as the glow of he dawn can just be seen on the horizon.

It's getting light but Chaplain and Clot should have enough time if they still want to meet Rain.
Clot
 player, 71 posts
 The Angel
 No Harm
Thu 27 Apr 2017
at 21:56
Chaplain and Clot's tent
Clot would be in favor of meeting Rain after getting dressed for the day.