Rebels & Mutineers is set in modern day New Orleans, Louisiana. R&M is fueled by player's plots and group input.
Supernatural people have always had their place in society, hidden in plain sight or locked away for their own protection. New Orleans, a haven for the strange and mysterious and a magnet for the supernatural.
Established: Oct. 27th, 2018 Recently Updated Posts && Recently Updated Threads
05.11.19
As the community reels from the untimely death of Lucia Lovelle, life has to move on. Primrose readies for the annual Prom celebration! Keep your eye out for a event board and have fun!
02.27.19
It's not too late to vote for February's OTM winners! The winners for January, keep an eye out on your messages for your winner's graphics for your signature. Already voted? Make sure you check out the Mardi Gras event board! Party up, have a good time, and enjoy!
[attr="class","hurricane"]Things had changed. A lot.
Charlie shouldn’t have been surprised; things were always changing in Monroeville. For the first time in her life, however, it no longer felt like a place she could find her footing. Now? It was lawless. The structures she had gambled her entire life on felt out of place, and as a result, she felt her space was shrinking and fading. Some of the patients were still on the lam, and even though Jasper should have known about her part in that, he kept deceptively quiet. Her breath was held twenty-four-seven, as she constantly waited for the other shoe to drop. It was disconcerting and exhausting to say the least, and she wanted anything to make herself feel just an iota safer. After work, then, she decided to go home, dress “down” in a blouse and jeans, and open the secret wall panel that she kept the gun Palmer had given her in.
Once at the range, however, things weren’t as smooth sailing as she would have liked. Charlie was never one to admit she needed help of any sort, and the constant thrum in her mind was deafening, her hands shaking with the weight. She was used to never being allowed to ask questions, to hit the ground running and playing by ear, but come to find out, working the damn gun was another matter entirely. It wasn’t instinctual, and even though she had used it before, it felt different now, like everything else. Her feet kept shifting, her aim was off. Beside her, even through the headphones, she could hear the people beside her, absorbed in their own lives, succeeding where she was so obviously failing. Every connection they made to the targets seemed to underline her inability to do so, and all she got was a little bit more frustrated.
She attempted to widen and plant her feet a little bit more, tried to imagine the target with a human face, tried to pour herself into the shot. It still managed to penetrate outside the paper head, and she audibly cursed under her breath. It was getting a bit ridiculous. Lowering her weapon, she ran a hand through her unbound, curly hair and stepped back. Whatever she was trying to prove to herself, she was absolutely not succeeding.
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Post by Renny Katrin Anderson on Sept 18, 2019 19:24:57 GMT
T
ime had certainly flown by since Renny had found her way to New Orleans. It had been a little over a month at this point. She still didn’t have a job, but she had put enough back that she could ride out this unemployment for a good while before worrying. Most of her days were spent making friends at the gym, harassing Josh at work, and emptying clips at the gun range. Despite the atrocities Renny had been a part of, there was nothing more therapeutic to her than shooting a gun.
And that’s what was on the agenda for today. The former Marine was well into her second grouping when a vexed looking brunette came up and took the lane next to her. Renny, being the terminally happy person she is, offered the woman a quiet smile, and returned to her shooting. Most people who came to the range with that kind of look on their face weren’t looking for company, no matter how much the large woman wanted to provide it to her. So, she relaxed and fell into the routine of shooting the boring stationary target once again.
Another solid grouping later and Renny had started picking up on the obvious frustration the woman beside her was emanating. Looking down the sightlines Renny saw the woman’s shots were all over the place – and looking back at the woman she noticed the trembling hands. Deciding to buck up and approach the woman, Renny quickly emptied her clip and flipped on the safety to her own 9mm. She put it down on the table in front of her, and walked closer to the curly haired vixen. The range was too loud for Renny to remove her noise cancelling earmuffs, so she simply gave the woman an over-exaggerated wave with a huge grin. She then pointed to the woman’s gun and then her stance with a quirked brow – hoping it conveyed the question of “Hey, can I help you?” that she was trying to ask. Renata knew far better than to touch someone without their permission, especially when they had a loaded weapon.