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Nozomi last won the day on December 24 2018

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  1. Horse girl had not accepted the whiskey, nor had she even considered approaching or eating the man offering such. She indeed lacked any instinct involving self preservation, and had only managed to survive using what was left of a doctor's logical brain. She seemed to be encapsulated by the fantasy of her pre-war colourful pony comic books, and even had many more books on actual horses that existed before the nuclear wasteland. T'was a pity, though; that she might never see one.
  2. The Horse-Girl, whatever her name was; appeared at first glance to be almost completely sane minus the worn down and now almost rag like remains of a makeshiftly sewn together outfit that resembled a colourful horse at one point. When addressed, she just glanced up from whatever she was doing with eyes that lacked even a hint of what was once a human being, nor even for that matter a living thing. Even the most trauma ridden and even the blind could never have looked so dead. Staring into her eyes was like staring into the empty bowels of an eldritch void. She was one of few who could withstand the daily noises in the Red Corner, but did not revel in them like the psychos. There was an intelligent analysis going on behind her quiet nature, as if examining him like prey; in case he sought after her precious relics. She was actually male, but had disregarded all of her masculinity even before her insanity. She sat and stared coldly, no words to undo the loud silence that crept from her presence.
  3. Two months stuck in the Red Corner did not seem to change the horse girl's disposition towards her place here, and indeed she prioritized her collection of pony based items before ever washing herself; both of which she did very obsessively. Horse girl's name apparantly was completely inconsistent. One day she called herself "Katrina" and another things like "Cheery Hearth" or "Ghiaccia Nozomi" which apparantly roughly meant "Frozen Hope". She seemed to appreciate Feral's concern for her collection, which showed barely at all considering the horse girl's emotions remained buried deep in a dead heart. But even after 2 months stuck in the cage, the disposition of many others towards her barely changed. Then again, someone had once joked about throwing Ghiaccia into the Pit since she showed the carried priorities of a monster; as they really did consist of "Protect Collection" and "Butcher fucking anyone who tries to take it". And whether she had ever been integrated into the Scourge in that 2 months, she really remained the same. Then again, if a slave or anybody died in front of her and wasn't too badly polluted; she had no qualms against eating them. So perhaps it was best to leave her out of the Scourge?
  4. The horse girl was actually brave enough to look upwards at the man looming over her, but this did not appear to dictate any form of resistance from the girl; as she does not even hesitate at the slightest to point to the one who had paid her in horse trinkets to do so. Mackenzie, wherever he had gone or was; as he had already given her the trinkets she so desired... So what did he matter to her afterwards? She did not care for what his fate might be, for there was nothing that she cared enough about post-payment from Mackenzie that should logically dictate a reason to lie; nor to give a damn. She then lowered her arm, gripping back onto the bag of collected trinkets, comics, and everything pony related that was in her possession. Admittedly, she was smart enough to stay where she was until dismissed; as being on Jack's good side may eventually lead to even better protection of her relics.
  5. Stopping only when her shoulder was in Mack's grip, the horse girl was somehow uncaring of the fact that there was torture going on anywhere. Much like how the girl ignored the generally loud noises in the Red Corner, she seemed unhindered by the sights of brutality towards the man; completely lacking in empathy or even in grotesque pleasure. She almost seemed incapable, but going by her almost violent reactions towards the guards who even joked about taking the bag (which is part of how she introduced just how well she could reinforce her already unsettling presence). She must really just have some sort of switch deep down for her emotions, but whether one she could control was up for debate. The only real description of the girl appropriate as the worst death imaginable in this place was given to the offender was... Well... Colder than any level of stone or ice cold based metaphors could ever express. However, this overly apparant lack of empathy came with it's own calmness and control; a feat that was difficult for even pre-war monks. Ironic how such a level of control came from the exact opposite spectrum of the men and women who went through lifetimes worth of discipline for.
  6. The slave girl stood, the ringing of the man's screaming translating to music in her wasteland-warped ears; something that she had once heard daily in a past life as a sign of wrongdoing to become an unguilty pleasure of the horse girl. Except, she hardly expressed it; in contrast to many psychos. There was this concentrated happiness like a normal person to a hobby as she heard the vocalisations of pain from the man in the chair, but it only really showed in her eyes. Only after a minute or so of this did the girl put her new collected toys with the rest, very carefully cleaning them off before setting them in her bag. Figuring this was over, the girl idly grabs her bag and just... Walks away. No attempt to escape from here, and not even a look towards the walls as if contemplating it. Admittedly, if someone wanted to stop her; they could go ahead and do so.
  7. The slave girl stood, not even hearing herself be called a crazy bitch due to the seamless trance she seemed to be under looking up at the sky. Eventually she stumbles back to her collection bag of horse items and carries it back to where she stood, but only after checking to make sure that every individual thing in there was present; to nobody's surprise. She didn't appear to even regret her actions up to this point, though began to scan about for any sign of Mackenzie to know if he had her promised items... Though she doubted anyone in this place gave a damn about holy horse relics, another layer of safety considering that her possessions were seen as sentimental and worthless by others.
  8. In a time before her capture she would've taken an arm for holding her like he was, but she understood that he was the alpha wolf in this place; and would rather be able to stay and protect her collection of holy horse relics. The horse girl stood very limply like a porcelain doll, and had clear enough skin to back up that demeanor; as of she were unaffected by the horrors of the Red Corner. She did as she was told to do like an obedient dog, as she figured that if the confession was drawn at all that she could fake it and get what was promised from Mackenzie. After tying the raider down, the girl stepped away and stood idly, her entire body swaying as she stared up at the golden green sky.
  9. By the time Jack intervened with the horse girl, it was likely that the forst Raider's fingers had been split open and let to violently bleed; the nails shattered and punctured by thin scraps of metal. She went almost completely limp when being held, almost as if playing dead; but responded quite plainly and honestly. "They were to confess." Before she went silent and contemplated whether she'd still get her pony items... And wanted to be sure her current ones were safe.*
  10. The girl found herself placed before the preferably restrained bodies of the two men, and if they were awake were likely struggling just seeing the hunched over and visibly twitchy pony enthusiast. Slowly nodding as Mackenzie leaves, the girl begins digging through garbage to find various objects such as rusted shards of metal, a fishing hook w/ some line; and what must have at one point in the long past been some sort of gelatin foodstuff. Looking to the first man on her left, who began to violently squirm as the girl branished some of her scavenged metal shards; she approaches. Using one of the bigger shards, Katrina pins the man's hand via inbetween the ring and middle knuckles. He might be screaming in pain, but a raider wasn't going to give up anything so easily. The girl went back to pillaging through garbage until she managed to find something heavy, before approaching the first man once more; only now allowing her pack of toys to be placed within view in an obvious spot for her. She stumbles closer and closer to the man, never displaying even a fragment of a second thought about what she was going to do.*
  11. The new slave stumbled forward, clearly the least concerned person in the entirety of the Red Corner. She was content with being here, and had magically caused an accident which no witnesses could testify was her fault. The guards all seemed to naturally fear her psychopathic movements, looming over everyone despite being shorter than most of the dudes, as if there was this natural danger to the girl that warmed off predators and prey alike. She responds with silence, dragging along her bag of toys; and her usage of the body made from the "accident" displayed that she knew a fair amount of human anatomy. Perhaps in a previous time she had served as some sort of scientist based off of her intelligemce, or maybe once an interrogator that held herself like a beast. She stared at the ground as she moved, and anyone in her way minus them and the slave watcher moving aside for her. Being stuck anywhere in a cage or small space with her proved to cause great complaining from roommates about her disturbing behaviour. She very clearly heard Mackenzie, but thought of him as a dispenser of sorts for her desired items; and shifted accordingly. The girl was a very soft-spoken type it seemed, adding to how she loomed over the area like some sort of spectre.*
  12. The new slave didn't seem to give a damn about the man's shiny new rifle, instead clinging to her own means like a mother bear to her cubs; and her animalistic stare was mostly enough to frighten off anyone who seemed keen on taking her shit for themselves. For now, at least. Her presence seemed more overwhelming than it had been before, likely due to the difference in environment and in demeanor. While safe here, the girl had to puff up like a cat or other animal would in order to keep a form of pecking order; which was literally just for the purpose of keeping her belongings to herself. Whether this was effective or not was... Well, depending.
  13. Surrounded by bits and pieces of information, alongside the smells, sights, and sounds of the 'Red Corner' as it seemed to be called. Feral was likely wise in her joke about the horse enthusiast not playing well with others, as demonstrated that even in the face of grim and painful death she absolutely refused to let Yetti touch her bag. Hell, she snarled like a wild dog when she did; but it was met with this new insight and emotion in the girls' eyes... Somewhat similar to a mother protecting it's children. Even with bound hands, their new slave was likely going to be a hassle if she ever followed up on the brutal honesty that showed in her eyes; she was the only one who seemed completely immune to the horrors of this place... One could only shudder to think of what she was potentially capable of with such thoughts. Or perhaps she was just another ruggish wastelander who was merely another psychopath. Feral's jokes and attempts to get under the strange girl's skin seemed to completely bounce off of them, enraptured instead on Yetti who threatened to touch her most precious of belongings. It didn't matter if he was the sweetest, kindest, or closest to this girl; she would never allow it... Even if she took it to her grave. The psyche that every leader wants their soldiers to have in the strangest of circumstances, following orders despite them being her own in this case. Aside from her personal collection, though... The horse enthusiast didn't give a damn, displaying a general apathy towards her other belongings and even herself. Even when locked up, all that mattered was what she was defending; and one should pray none of the other slaves overstepped that boundary...
  14. All of Feral's attempts to instigate anger in the girl were completely ineffective, as the girl seemed either too intelligent to fall for Feral's tricks or just too out-of-it to care about what she was being told. Truthfully, she knew what was happening; but even being a slave was safer than wandering the wastelands... Even if she disdained doing anything aside from looking for her collectibles. She stared at the ground without ever dropping her belongings from her teeth, a vaguely impressive feat considering it's size... But her demeanor remained.
  15. The girl was strange in that she made no attempt to escape nor showed any sign of caring about her imprisonment. Holding her pack in her teeth still, which must have been incredibly strenuous; she follows along to wherever the hell they were going. Without incident would imply that nobody would attempt to remove that bag, as someone with this much sanity missing would probably have no obligations against breaking all of their fingers and then some to get their way with such an odd subject of worship.