“So get this. I was hanging out at the bar one day, then this Genjian friend of mine walks up and hands me a red envelope. He then says ‘Happy New Year, may this bring you fortune and luck.’ I don’t get it… Them Genjians are a couple of months off. Weird bunch they are, I tell you what. Well, it’s all good. There was a ticket in the envelope so it wasn’t too bad.”
The five deeply hooded figures walked towards the lights of town all wearing skull masks. A lonely soldier on patrol on the road and turns toward them, revealing the templar markings on their chest. With a nod to the others, one of the five raises a hand and flames surround the soldier, as his clothes and leather armor catch fire. He returns to the rest of the group, moving toward the town. “You are a god among insects... don't let anyone tell you different”, says the leader as they walk past the soldier crying out in pain and rolling on the ground trying to snuff out the flames.
Two Hunters move quietly are carefully around the swamps of El Dorado.
One hunter whispers to the other ,“Larry what are we doing down here in the first place?”
His friend replied, “Well Billy Bob we are looking for the great beast that lives down here we will make a fortune when we bring his head in.”
The first ten minutes into the swamp were quiet, too quiet. Nothing moved, nothing made a sound. Billy Bob moved carefully from one dry pile of earth to the other, and suddenly realized he was alone.
Panicked, he whispered ferverently, “Larry, Larry where did you go?”
A giant shadow casts slowly over the quaking Hunter, and with a scream he runs back towards the beginning of the swamp, yelling “Oh my god the beast is real.” He never looked back, nor did he ever see Larry again.
A Pure Blood sulks in the tavern, a drink in either hand as a seeming reminder of wealth.
“Why do digs always hafta have radiation,” they hiccup drunkenly. “Gonna have to retire from jonesing at this rate. Fecking glowing green garbage.”
“Don’t worry,” their Solestros friend assures them, refilling their cup from the tankard between them. “They said they’d be back to hire more Jones once they got that area figured out. Shouldn’t be more than a month or two.”
“Heard the popoffs are going to make peace,” a man in a clean pressed suit says idly to the Vegasian smoking next to him.
“Father Ward be with them all if they go back on that,” the Vegasian replies. The smell of Hero-J is strong in the smoke around them. “Gonna be weird when the Knights are the only thing to fight out there.”
The clean pressed suit shifts. “Knights are a big enough threat on their own. Guess a bunch of our own got force converted and they came by looking for supplies. So glad I had my priest confirm my faith...”
A panicked young farmer bursts into a local bar. “Everybody! We’re in danger!” he shouts, his words cutting through the din and stunning the patrons into silence. “Those two plague victims that were murdered last month in Hell D are back! They’re both zed! My friend’s neighbor told him they came back as something called ‘Geminis’ and they can’t be killed. We’re so fucked!”
The silence continued, until finally a grizzled old man seated at the bar cleared his throat. “The fuck’s a ‘Jiminy?’” he asked. “Some kinda cricket, I reckon.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Go on home, kid. Ain’t no unkillable zed around here.”
“Did you hear about the new kingdom?” the young Semper asks his friend, walking alongside the rather rotund Pureblood.”
“Rextown, I think it was called. I hear the king’s a badass.”
“Hey, Steve?” the old lady called from her rocking chair, the rickety wood creaking dangerously.
“Any mail today?”
“No, Ma. I heard the Postmaster got killed by a bunch of Warpaths. Might be a while.”
Two Vegasians hurried under cover of night toward their home. Sneaking out after sundown was foolish, but you did what you had to do to get laid. “Did you hear about that scary guy from New Vegasia?” one of them whispered.
“What, the Final Knight with the red thing on his forehead?” the other one replied. “Ma--”
“Fuck, man! Don’t say his fucking name!” the first one interrupted. “He’s got eyes and ears everywhere! And I heard that he’s got one more trial in mind for his new protege.”
The other Vegasian shook his head. “Wouldn’t want to be that guy,” he muttered, tugging open his front door.
“George Fucking Washington, did you see that fucking spider!?” the breathless Merican gasped, leaning against a large rock to try to catch his breath.
“Kinda hard to miss,” his Remnant friend panted, resting a hand against the same rock. “Fucking thing was the size of a Goliath!”
“Do you think it saw us?” the Merican asked.
The Remnant peeked around the rock. His eyes widened. “Oh, it fucking saw us! RUN!!!”
“Did you hear about the Genjian New Year?” the young Remnant asked his father.
“Yeah, what about it?” came the reply.
“Well, I heard that most people get gifts from the Genjians, but they actually keep careful count of how many envelopes they give out. I heard that when they hit #44, they decapitate the next person and start over. I heard forty-four is death.”
“Did your aunt Shelly tell you that?” his father asked, arching a brow.
“Yeah, but she said she saw it with her own eyes.”
“What did I tell you about your aunt Shelly?”
“That she’s batshit fucking crazy?” the young Remnant replied.
“Right,” his father said. He hugged his son gently so the boy wouldn’t see the terrified look on his face. “Nothing to worry about, son. Nothing at all.”
“Damned shutters won’t stop arguing,” a remnant says, a very drunk Hedon kneeler draped over her arm. “I’m almost too tired of it to keep up with my work.”
“Arguing over who has the biggest house logo?” the kneeler giggles. She bites playfully at the remnant’s neck.
“Farming, actually,” the remnant responds. “Guess its a lucrative profession.”
The Hedon wiggles her eyebrows. “And Pure Bloods just ~love~ sticking their hands into things.” She flails around to whisper very loudly, “So do I…”