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!
Astor crouched down and looked over the damn hunk of junk that he mistook for a motorcycle. Part of him wanted to push it into one of the bayous and just call it a day. He had a fresh stack of files of prospective residents of Phalanx and here he was, outside with half a pack of cigarettes, this hunk of rust, and a budding headache. Ash sat on the grass, enjoying the warmth from the high Louisiana sun. Ash looked over the bike and tried to figure out what was keeping the ignition from switching over. He stretched himself out, hoping that he would be able to figure it out. Patience wasn't his strongest suit, despite how much work he put into Phalanx House with all of the residents there.
Leaning back on the grass, hoping to take a break from the motorcycle from hell and the frustrations that came with it. He loosened the leather band on his pulled back blond hair and ran his fingers through it. Ash looked over the building, the Spanish moss draped over the roof, it was the place that he worked so hard for. A place that he created so all people with abilities would be able to go to and feel at home. The various scars on his arms hurt just thinking about how much he needed a place like that when he was young.
"Alright, bike. Round two." He said, pulling his hair back again and getting back to work.
Cam liked to walk around outside Phalanx. He liked being outside in general, but being outside often meant being around people and being around people put a pit in his stomach. Except... people at Phalanx were different. He could walk around the area and not worry about who saw him or how he looked. There was nothing like it.
Part of what made Phalanx great was the staff. Astor had become a person that Cameron trusted with his life. Maybe it was because the man wasn't that old... maybe it was because he had a motorcycle... but Cam was certainly glad that the man worked there. And so a friendly smile spread across his face when his ears caught the sound of an approaching bike engine. A friendly smile from Cam, mind you, was no small feat.
"Hey, Mr. Perona," Cameron greeted, his thumb rubbing against a loose string on the strap holding his backpack. "Bike running okay?" he asked, unable to contain his curiosity. If there was one material possession he wanted more than anything, it was a motorcycle. He'd fixed up more than he could count at work but being able to build his own? He'd never be able to stop looking at it.
Ash smiled when he spotted Cameron walking up. He was a nice young kid, a skinwalker who had been with the house for a little while now. He had a special place for all of the kids that he brought in, every one of them had a place at Phalanx and were safe while they were there. Cameron was always good when one of his projects refused to cooperate, and this bike from hell was surely one of them. He knew that this kid would be able to help him with the bike, and he always felt that working on something with their hands was one of the best ways to keep these kids out of trouble. Sure there were always times when he would have to speak with a shop owner about some petty theft, or some vandalism around the town, but he ran a home for kids from all backgrounds. Some of them he helped come down from addictions, some he just gave a warm bed. It was all part of what he wanted to provide to the community.
"Come on Cam, you can call me Ash. Everyone does." He said, tinkering with the transmission yet again. He grimaced for dramatic effect when he was finally able to pry it out, "Yeah, not so much." He admitted, "Old thing is on it's last limb, and I'm just too stubborn to trade it in." He was attached to the bike, it was the first thing he did for himself after getting out of Monroeville. People assumed that he got out and started working on Phalanx, but it was second to fulfilling a promise he made to himself when he was stuck in solitary confinement that he was going to buy a motorcycle and be free.
"Wanna give me a hand? Maybe with the both of us I can get a few more miles out of it." He loved the bike, but he knew the days were numbered. It would be good for him, he bought the bike when he was twenty one, and now he was in his mid thirties. It was time to focus on being more realistic. He didn't want to be that forty year old man gripping to his stolen youth. "Unless you got somewhere to be?"
Astor insisted that Cam call him 'Ash' and Cam nodded. "Right," he confirmed. He sort of had a thing with authority, feeling the need to make sure he came across as polite and innocent. Old habits were hard to break, but he was reminded every day of why he could look at Ash differently, why he wasn't like every other pompous authority figure in this world. "Got it."
"I get that," he said with a chuckle. "A lot of people feel the same way." He dealt with a lot of people who, despite their vehicle's inability to function properly for a consecutive four-day period, refused to get them replaced. When something meant that much to you, the functionality of it didn't matter as much. Unfortunately, malfunction could bring about a bit of inconvenience when it occurred at the wrong time. "Have you had it a long time?" he asked curiously, figuring as much.
He couldn't help but grin when he was asked for help. "Yea, sure,that'd be cool," he admitted, feeling a bit of excitement bubbling up from his stomach. "No, no, I'm not busy," he assured, pulling his bag from his shoulder and placing it on the ground. He opened it, pulling out a few tools (okay, so he was a bit overprepared but people weren't laughing when they needed the aid) and kneeling next to it. "The engine, you think?" he asked, figuring it was a good place to start. "Is it making a lot of noise when you start it?"
"My grandfather had a bike for like... almost a decade. When it stopped running, he took it apart and made some weird sculpture out of it," he shared. If the guy didn't want to give it up completely, maybe he didn't have to.
Ash knew that a lot of the kids who came to Phalanx were far from perfect. Some of them just didn't have the resources for private tutoring, some of them were kicked out of their homes. Some of his kids had been living on the street and he just found them. He smiled in thanks at Cam and went back to focusing on his bike. It was going to kill him, and he was going to make something out of the hunk of junk that he loved with all of his heart.
Ash grinned at the memory of when he got the bike, "Yeah, I've had it when I was about twenty two?" He sat down on the grass and looked at it, "I got it when I got out of Monroeville." He admitted. Not many of his kids knew all of his past, but he did share it when it was important, "I was there for about seven years? Went through phases where I couldn't change back from my wolf form. I think I was an animal for about a year during that time. They didn't know if I was going to change back."
He grinned when Cam started to take tools out of his bag, "Probably should have called you first." he joked and returned to the bike, "I think it's a cascading failures, the transmission is slipping, and the engine sounds like I have something rattling around in there when it goes over fifty, which to be fair, is often."
he didn't even want to think about trading in the bike, it was part of him. Part of what he loved about his freedom. "If it's time, I'm thinking some viking ceremony thing. Set it out onto the swamp and set it on fire."
Cam's eyes widened slightly at the mention of Monroeville. He'd heard it before-- that Ash had been there-- but it was easy to forget. With all the horrible things happening to people there, you'd think a victim of that place would be so much less... Ash. He seemed happy, okay, almost. Then again, Cam knew better than anyone that appearances weren't always the most accurate representation of what was going on inwardly.
It suddenly made sense why Ash didn't want to let go of the bike.
"How'd you get out?" he asked, his voice lowering a bit. "You don't have to... I mean... if you don't want to talk about it." Cam hated having... personal conversations with people. He didn't want to pry, but at the same time, Monroeville held so many secrets that Cameron had no access to. And if Cam had his way, he'd never step foot in that place."You don't think they'd ever come here, looking for people, do you?" It seemed a bit irrational of a fear, but it was often in the back of Cameron's mind.
"I wouldn't want to get rid of the bike, either," he added, wanting to offer a bit of reassurance. He understood what the man was feeling.
He chuckled when Astor mentioned that he should have called Cameron first. He definitely took the comment as a compliment. "Always happy to help, Mr.-- Ash."
"You can hold off on the viking thing for a little bit," he assured in good humor. "I think I can get you another few months.. but.. maybe start getting the eulogy ready."
Cam got awkward when he got serious about certain things, and Astor tried to respect that. He always wanted to try to be honest with Cam when he asked personal things. "Enough appeals to the finally convince them that I was safe enough to go out into the world." He knew that it didn't help everyone. "I had pleaded with my psychiatrist for about a year. She ended up switching out, couldn't handle my whiny ass anymore, I guess." He tried to make light of things, but mostly it was to help the kids who had been there to not feel as isolated in their experiences. He cared for the residents of Phalanx like they were his own children, and he wanted to provide a safe space for them.
Ash looked over at the brunette young man and knew that a lot of his kids had criminal records. He tried to keep them from the inner workings of how Phalanx worked out. He ran his fingers through his blond hair and looked over at him, "When anyone comes to Phalanx, I have to put a lot of paperwork in with the state. Have to pretend that this is a legitimate group home for the wayward souls." He pulled the transmission from the bike and set it down, trying to figure out what went wrong with the thing, "But-" He said with a smirk. "If some paperwork gets lost, or misspelled, or something. Harder to find people in here."
The residents in his care meant the world to him and he would do anything to keep them safe. Even if he had to lie sometimes to make it happen. Too many of his kids came from broken homes, abuse, or homelessness. He groaned when Cam admitted that they would have to get the eulogy ready. "Let's hope. Here-" He took a deep breath and put the transmission back in place. "Go give it a start."
Post by Cameron Gallagher on Nov 24, 2018 4:03:02 GMT
Cameron smirked slightly, scoffing. "If you can't handle whining, you shouldn't be working in Monroeville," he pointed out. Listening to patients' frustration was the least those employees could do. The patients were given plenty to be upset about. "Glad someone finally listened." He wondered how many people actually got out in comparison to the number of people who ended up living and dying in the place
He couldn't help but chuckle after hearing about the paperwork. "Learn those bullshitting skills in school?" he asked, glancing up at Ash before looking back at the tools in his hands. He knew that a lot went into keeping Phalanx safe, a lot more than he knew. He had an incredible amount of appreciation for those, like Ash, who did the work to make sure he had a place to live. "My grandparents don't want me home," he admitted. That was why he knew Phalanx was so important. He wasn't the only person who didn't have support at home. "Sometimes, this stuff is genetic, right? I wonder if my parents even knew." It would have been some nice information to have, but it was too late now.
"You're really cool for doing this. I mean... for doing everything here."
He grinned, crossing his fingers and making a point to hold them up in front of Astor before starting the engine. He laughed as the sound of a running motor fell upon them, nodding in approval. "It lives to see another day," he announced, wiping sweat off his forehead.
Ash laughed when he confirmed that it was the least that the therapist should do to listen to what the patients had to say and what they were feeling. Ash had a crush on his therapist, and he was sure that it was all part of the reason why he got bounced out of Marilyn's roster as fast as he did. "Me too, one more helping of the grey gruel they serve for dinner and I probably would have really lost my shit."
He laughed, his bullshitting skills had to get good. "Had to learn some tricks along the way." One of the first residents of Phalanx ran from an abusive home. Ash protected him from the abuser as much as possible, but he had to figure out a way to protect him. It was Astor's first failure when the state came in and brought the youth back home, and Ash nearly attacked the father at the funeral for the youth. His name had been Yvegeny, and he killed himself to get away from the abuse from his father. Ash promised himself he would keep the rest of the kids who came into his care care.
"Thanks Cam. I'm trying." Trying to make something for the world that was needed for so many kids. The rooms were filling quickly and he was going to have to figure out how he was going to expand.
He watched Cam start the engine and let out a sigh of relief when the engine turned over. "Thanks for you help, Cam. I swear I had the pyre ready for this bad boy."