Difference between revisions of "Oregon Trail Revitalized - RPLOG"
From Flexible Survival
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6/10/2022 | 6/10/2022 | ||
=Log= | =Log= | ||
| − | <div></div><div title="Erika" style="margin-top:2em">(Erika) A short way down the western road leading away from Crater Lake, a small base camp seems to be set up. One medium-sized tent, four mutants, and MANY crates. Lots and lots of crates. The mutants assembled appear to be two huskies, one average and the other large. The other two mutants consist of a mutant so armored it's hard to tell what she is, and lastly a black and white furred rabbit. They're all gathered around the crates, waiting for people to arrive. The smaller husky is a busty lady, dressed almost entirely in black outlaw leathers, including the black cowgirl hat. She has long blond hair, straight and held in a pony tail. The armored mutant is encased entirely in a set of power armor, carrying several weapons large and small.</div> <div title="Euoia" style="margin-top:2em">(Euoia) Euoia sighs. She didn't know what to expect and guesses things are still setting up. The anime babe saunters over to the group. "I uh... I heard there was supposed to be a thing tonight. I'm guessing things are still being set up. Y'all good or you need some extra help?" <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>Euoia grabs her flask from it's shoulder holster and takes a swig. She's not very strong but could help out. She takes a look at the armored mutant. "Nice gear," she says to them, "Don't worry. i won't touch unless allowed." She gives it? a smile and a nod. "I take it you don't have a magic wand or staff in there?"</div> <div title="Fenris" style="margin-top:2em">(Fenris) That shambling, shuffling gait. That fixed stare. That rictus grin set in an unmoving face. It is apparent that Fenris is... <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>Wearing a fursuit? <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>A comms scan shows that Fenris is here, but who can really be sure who is wearing the friendly, chunky tanuki mascot costume that is shuffling along the road in a little freestyle dance? The mascot spins a large sign painted with a donut, a hamburger, and a generic soft drink on it. The sign seems to be fixed to some sort of long polearm. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>He shuffles up to the gathering point and gives his sign one last flourish before leaning on it and giving a friendly wave to the assembled mutants.</div> <div title="Chessly" style="margin-top:2em">(Chessly) A mercenary group? An exploration party? A cat-boy watches the camp from afar trying to parse what possibly could they have planned there, he didn't come prepared with any fancy weapons or gadgets on hand.All he had was a burning curiosity, and the oversized lab coat hanging on his body. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> Making his way to the small camp the the curious feline notices stack of crates. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> He keeps some distance towards the pile, waves at the mutants, and stares down the power armor. Chessly has taken an interest in what the mutant is wearing, and from afar tries to guess what possibly features the neat piece of equipment could possibly have.</div> <div title="Forkbomb" style="margin-top:2em">(Forkbomb) <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> It was an odd day. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> Forkbomb, the athletic ninja tanuki girl clad in tight and skimpy cyberpunk apparel, strode out towards the tent and let out a long exhalation. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> "We're here." <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> There's a moment of hesitation, more due to the social anxiety of meeting back up with Moresson than anything else, before she tossed her brightly colored hair and made herself known. "I... Have arrived. I admit, I've never been here before." She looks out over the expanse, the horizon of Crater Lake. "Please don't take it the wrong way, but I haven't heard anything about what happened here other than what are probably ghost stories. Mind filling me in?"</div> <div title="Symaro" style="margin-top:2em">(Symaro) What does fourteen years feel like to Symaro? A lifetime, two lifetimes as a matter of fact. This lad is only seven years old, and in his short time on this god-overloaded world! Since crawling out his egg, Symaro had been through several hells, two of which were quite literal in function and purpose. The gator had gone through more stages in life than your average human ten times his age, but in a setting this absurd and riddled with extraplanar influences, was that any surprise? Heavy footfalls announce his presence, metal clanking dimly against the hardened terrain, coat swishing in the wind and hat tilted down to keep those vertically slit irises concealed. Hands swinging lightly to either side of his hips, Symaro nears the meeting point, glance wandering left and right, nose scrunched up slightly from the malodorous influence of the surrounding area. His nose tilts upwards, footfalls ceasing just before the gathering, gaze surveying his surroundings, body awash with the familiar aura of the signal's absence. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> So what was this gathering about anyway? Some crackpot prophet looking to divulge mystical truths onto those willing to listen? An enterprising journalistic ploy to seed some dissent and cash in on the ensuing chaos? The packminds having branched out in an attempt to lore unsuspecting victims into their collective? Only one way to find out. "Funny place to host a party." He comments offhandedly, nearing the campsite with one hand holding the brim of his hat, the other tucked into his light brown duster's pocket. Tilting his headwear such it no longer obscures his vision, he is better able to recognize a few faces. "Fenris." One hand reaches out, a smile tugging at the gator's maw. "As I live and breathe. You have a nose for trouble like none other. Nice to see you again mate." His glance snaps around the others, a dip of his maw in greeting in greeting cast towards Euoia, Junes and Ambessa, suggesting familiarity but little shared history otherwise. As for the camp-goers. "Heeey Morri. You've changed your hair! It suits you." The gator smirks softly and crosses his arms, peering into the mask of her armor with vivid amusement. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> "So this is where you've been holed up all this time. I heard something about you digging your heels into arms dealing. No wonder my agents have been finding more bullet holes and burn marks around town. Hope you're keepin' as good as you're lookin'." Symaro presses his foot into the ground and digs his heel in for a few moments, the crinkling of pebbles and displacement of grime eerily audible in this area of uncanny stillness. T'was a mite unsettling, yet oddly soothing given the picturesque woodlands surrounding them. "I'd ask what's dragged you all the way out here of all places, but I have a gut feeling we're about to find out." He pruses his lips and whistles sharply upon noting the surroundings. "Smells like something big's being built here though. You planning to start your own town or something Morri?" His glance snaps back towards the armored woman. "Running for mayor or police chief?"</div> | + | <div></div><div title="Erika" style="margin-top:2em">(Erika) A short way down the western road leading away from Crater Lake, a small base camp seems to be set up. One medium-sized tent, four mutants, and MANY crates. Lots and lots of crates. The mutants assembled appear to be two huskies, one average and the other large. The other two mutants consist of a mutant so armored it's hard to tell what she is, and lastly a black and white furred rabbit. They're all gathered around the crates, waiting for people to arrive. The smaller husky is a busty lady, dressed almost entirely in black outlaw leathers, including the black cowgirl hat. She has long blond hair, straight and held in a pony tail. The armored mutant is encased entirely in a set of power armor, carrying several weapons large and small.</div> <div title="Euoia" style="margin-top:2em">(Euoia) Euoia sighs. She didn't know what to expect and guesses things are still setting up. The anime babe saunters over to the group. "I uh... I heard there was supposed to be a thing tonight. I'm guessing things are still being set up. Y'all good or you need some extra help?" <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>Euoia grabs her flask from it's shoulder holster and takes a swig. She's not very strong but could help out. She takes a look at the armored mutant. "Nice gear," she says to them, "Don't worry. i won't touch unless allowed." She gives it? a smile and a nod. "I take it you don't have a magic wand or staff in there?"</div> <div title="Fenris" style="margin-top:2em">(Fenris) That shambling, shuffling gait. That fixed stare. That rictus grin set in an unmoving face. It is apparent that Fenris is... <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>Wearing a fursuit? <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>A comms scan shows that Fenris is here, but who can really be sure who is wearing the friendly, chunky tanuki mascot costume that is shuffling along the road in a little freestyle dance? The mascot spins a large sign painted with a donut, a hamburger, and a generic soft drink on it. The sign seems to be fixed to some sort of long polearm. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>He shuffles up to the gathering point and gives his sign one last flourish before leaning on it and giving a friendly wave to the assembled mutants.</div> <div title="Chessly" style="margin-top:2em">(Chessly) A mercenary group? An exploration party? A cat-boy watches the camp from afar trying to parse what possibly could they have planned there, he didn't come prepared with any fancy weapons or gadgets on hand.All he had was a burning curiosity, and the oversized lab coat hanging on his body. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> Making his way to the small camp the the curious feline notices stack of crates. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> He keeps some distance towards the pile, waves at the mutants, and stares down the power armor. Chessly has taken an interest in what the mutant is wearing, and from afar tries to guess what possibly features the neat piece of equipment could possibly have.</div> <div title="Forkbomb" style="margin-top:2em">(Forkbomb) <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> It was an odd day. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> Forkbomb, the athletic ninja tanuki girl clad in tight and skimpy cyberpunk apparel, strode out towards the tent and let out a long exhalation. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> "We're here." <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> There's a moment of hesitation, more due to the social anxiety of meeting back up with Moresson than anything else, before she tossed her brightly colored hair and made herself known. "I... Have arrived. I admit, I've never been here before." She looks out over the expanse, the horizon of Crater Lake. "Please don't take it the wrong way, but I haven't heard anything about what happened here other than what are probably ghost stories. Mind filling me in?"</div> <div title="Symaro" style="margin-top:2em">(Symaro) What does fourteen years feel like to Symaro? A lifetime, two lifetimes as a matter of fact. This lad is only seven years old, and in his short time on this god-overloaded world! Since crawling out his egg, Symaro had been through several hells, two of which were quite literal in function and purpose. The gator had gone through more stages in life than your average human ten times his age, but in a setting this absurd and riddled with extraplanar influences, was that any surprise? Heavy footfalls announce his presence, metal clanking dimly against the hardened terrain, coat swishing in the wind and hat tilted down to keep those vertically slit irises concealed. Hands swinging lightly to either side of his hips, Symaro nears the meeting point, glance wandering left and right, nose scrunched up slightly from the malodorous influence of the surrounding area. His nose tilts upwards, footfalls ceasing just before the gathering, gaze surveying his surroundings, body awash with the familiar aura of the signal's absence. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> So what was this gathering about anyway? Some crackpot prophet looking to divulge mystical truths onto those willing to listen? An enterprising journalistic ploy to seed some dissent and cash in on the ensuing chaos? The packminds having branched out in an attempt to lore unsuspecting victims into their collective? Only one way to find out. "Funny place to host a party." He comments offhandedly, nearing the campsite with one hand holding the brim of his hat, the other tucked into his light brown duster's pocket. Tilting his headwear such it no longer obscures his vision, he is better able to recognize a few faces. "Fenris." One hand reaches out, a smile tugging at the gator's maw. "As I live and breathe. You have a nose for trouble like none other. Nice to see you again mate." His glance snaps around the others, a dip of his maw in greeting in greeting cast towards Euoia, Junes and Ambessa, suggesting familiarity but little shared history otherwise. As for the camp-goers. "Heeey Morri. You've changed your hair! It suits you." The gator smirks softly and crosses his arms, peering into the mask of her armor with vivid amusement. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> "So this is where you've been holed up all this time. I heard something about you digging your heels into arms dealing. No wonder my agents have been finding more bullet holes and burn marks around town. Hope you're keepin' as good as you're lookin'." Symaro presses his foot into the ground and digs his heel in for a few moments, the crinkling of pebbles and displacement of grime eerily audible in this area of uncanny stillness. T'was a mite unsettling, yet oddly soothing given the picturesque woodlands surrounding them. "I'd ask what's dragged you all the way out here of all places, but I have a gut feeling we're about to find out." He pruses his lips and whistles sharply upon noting the surroundings. "Smells like something big's being built here though. You planning to start your own town or something Morri?" His glance snaps back towards the armored woman. "Running for mayor or police chief?"</div><div title="Luard" style="margin-top:2em">(Luard) Carrying several crates at once with ease, the larger of the two huskies already gathered sets the crates down among the rest of the large assortment. He's significantly larger than the cowgirl husky, somewhere around 9, maybe 10 feet tall. He's dressed in a long, black duster coat, the coattails reaching part-way down his legs, with a white shirt and black pants on, gaps fitted into each article of clothing to let the husky's tail and two large, white, feathered wings reach out the back of them freely. Once he's set the crates down and straightened back up to his full height, he walks over to the armored mutant, chuckling to himself at the interesting assortment of mutants approaching. "Looks like an interesting bunch." He spends a moment looking in confusion at the mascot fursuit, giving a bemused wave in return, before chuckling again at the armored mutant and lightly elbowing the side of the power-armor in a joking manner after the anime babe talks to them. "Looks like you've got a new fan already." The large husky adjusts the weapons on his back and belt, making sure they're secure. Looks like a sword and a glaive, giving a nodding welcome to the feline in a lab coat approaching as well.</div> <div title="Nayru" style="margin-top:2em">(Nayru) |
| + | pot</div> <div title="Junes" style="margin-top:2em">(Junes) Junes walks in and double checks the paper making sure this was the meeting area. After seeing the base the chimeric hoodied hissah walks along calm but excited about another new adventure awaiting them in the unknown . </div> <div title="Anbessa" style="margin-top:2em">(Anbessa) Anbessa has been lazily leaning against his own lightly planted polearm as he mellows out as he awaits the arrival of everyone else. Though he had certainly came to this prepared, he seemed either anxious or at least uncomfortable as he lightly can be seen tugging at the straps on what looks to be repaired police riot armor. Either he has not worn it in a while, or something else is going on, but either way he seemed to be rather armed, albiet in more straightforward equipment. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> With a polearm in one hand that he is leaning on, and what looks to be a rather intricately crafted bow, with a metal quiver rack on his back left shoulder that is seen supporting 10 rather nicely crafted, blue tipped arrows that lightly glow. Beneath them all is a small pair of bags with what seems to be replacement arrowheads and fletchings for making fresh arrows as they go. Still, this bun is wearing rather... Archaic weaponry. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> Though as new people start to approach, the buck simply lifts his previously drooping ears and gives one handed waves to everyone that arrives. Nobody he thinks he can recognize from a glance, but... Is that a fursuit? Ooookay... An anime babe gets a curious ear twitch from the buck as well. Not exactly a very common form, but hey, neat... Oh, there is someone! Symaro of course gets a familiar wave and smile from the bunny as well, the bunny's eartips twitching for just a moment. The catboy and tanuki also get curious looks from the bunny, but the buck certainly does not give an unwelcoming air to him as much as someone who probably is just mellowing out and relaxing before whatever misadventures are about to begin. </div> <div title="Nayru" style="margin-top:2em">(Nayru) A brief sigh escapes an otherwise silent shadow as she makes her way to the meeting spot. It has been awhile since Nayru has came out all this way, much less by herself. Unpleasant memories playing back in her mind as she remembers her previous visits in this direction. Though this was to special for her to just sit back and ignore. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> The small bunny didn't look to be openly armed on first look. Her blatant gear consisting of an oversized, worn out hoodie and a ducktaped backpack, both looking to be rather old at this point. Yet one this did stand out from her. A cacophony of white, fluffy tails following behind her, moving in a mesmorizing pattern with whatever movement that she had made. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> Those eyes glance about for a brief second at the others who have came here. The usually variety of mutants one would expect from this event. Several of whom seemed to be actively armed. Nayru was rather wary, but otherwise remains natural as she moves about. Just finding a quiet spot to stand and wait to see if anyone else would show up. </div> | ||
Revision as of 03:23, 7 October 2022
Participants
Date
6/10/2022
Log
(Erika) A short way down the western road leading away from Crater Lake, a small base camp seems to be set up. One medium-sized tent, four mutants, and MANY crates. Lots and lots of crates. The mutants assembled appear to be two huskies, one average and the other large. The other two mutants consist of a mutant so armored it's hard to tell what she is, and lastly a black and white furred rabbit. They're all gathered around the crates, waiting for people to arrive. The smaller husky is a busty lady, dressed almost entirely in black outlaw leathers, including the black cowgirl hat. She has long blond hair, straight and held in a pony tail. The armored mutant is encased entirely in a set of power armor, carrying several weapons large and small.
(Euoia) Euoia sighs. She didn't know what to expect and guesses things are still setting up. The anime babe saunters over to the group. "I uh... I heard there was supposed to be a thing tonight. I'm guessing things are still being set up. Y'all good or you need some extra help?" Euoia grabs her flask from it's shoulder holster and takes a swig. She's not very strong but could help out. She takes a look at the armored mutant. "Nice gear," she says to them, "Don't worry. i won't touch unless allowed." She gives it? a smile and a nod. "I take it you don't have a magic wand or staff in there?"
(Fenris) That shambling, shuffling gait. That fixed stare. That rictus grin set in an unmoving face. It is apparent that Fenris is... Wearing a fursuit? A comms scan shows that Fenris is here, but who can really be sure who is wearing the friendly, chunky tanuki mascot costume that is shuffling along the road in a little freestyle dance? The mascot spins a large sign painted with a donut, a hamburger, and a generic soft drink on it. The sign seems to be fixed to some sort of long polearm. He shuffles up to the gathering point and gives his sign one last flourish before leaning on it and giving a friendly wave to the assembled mutants.
(Chessly) A mercenary group? An exploration party? A cat-boy watches the camp from afar trying to parse what possibly could they have planned there, he didn't come prepared with any fancy weapons or gadgets on hand.All he had was a burning curiosity, and the oversized lab coat hanging on his body. Making his way to the small camp the the curious feline notices stack of crates. He keeps some distance towards the pile, waves at the mutants, and stares down the power armor. Chessly has taken an interest in what the mutant is wearing, and from afar tries to guess what possibly features the neat piece of equipment could possibly have.
(Forkbomb) It was an odd day. Forkbomb, the athletic ninja tanuki girl clad in tight and skimpy cyberpunk apparel, strode out towards the tent and let out a long exhalation. "We're here." There's a moment of hesitation, more due to the social anxiety of meeting back up with Moresson than anything else, before she tossed her brightly colored hair and made herself known. "I... Have arrived. I admit, I've never been here before." She looks out over the expanse, the horizon of Crater Lake. "Please don't take it the wrong way, but I haven't heard anything about what happened here other than what are probably ghost stories. Mind filling me in?"
(Symaro) What does fourteen years feel like to Symaro? A lifetime, two lifetimes as a matter of fact. This lad is only seven years old, and in his short time on this god-overloaded world! Since crawling out his egg, Symaro had been through several hells, two of which were quite literal in function and purpose. The gator had gone through more stages in life than your average human ten times his age, but in a setting this absurd and riddled with extraplanar influences, was that any surprise? Heavy footfalls announce his presence, metal clanking dimly against the hardened terrain, coat swishing in the wind and hat tilted down to keep those vertically slit irises concealed. Hands swinging lightly to either side of his hips, Symaro nears the meeting point, glance wandering left and right, nose scrunched up slightly from the malodorous influence of the surrounding area. His nose tilts upwards, footfalls ceasing just before the gathering, gaze surveying his surroundings, body awash with the familiar aura of the signal's absence. So what was this gathering about anyway? Some crackpot prophet looking to divulge mystical truths onto those willing to listen? An enterprising journalistic ploy to seed some dissent and cash in on the ensuing chaos? The packminds having branched out in an attempt to lore unsuspecting victims into their collective? Only one way to find out. "Funny place to host a party." He comments offhandedly, nearing the campsite with one hand holding the brim of his hat, the other tucked into his light brown duster's pocket. Tilting his headwear such it no longer obscures his vision, he is better able to recognize a few faces. "Fenris." One hand reaches out, a smile tugging at the gator's maw. "As I live and breathe. You have a nose for trouble like none other. Nice to see you again mate." His glance snaps around the others, a dip of his maw in greeting in greeting cast towards Euoia, Junes and Ambessa, suggesting familiarity but little shared history otherwise. As for the camp-goers. "Heeey Morri. You've changed your hair! It suits you." The gator smirks softly and crosses his arms, peering into the mask of her armor with vivid amusement. "So this is where you've been holed up all this time. I heard something about you digging your heels into arms dealing. No wonder my agents have been finding more bullet holes and burn marks around town. Hope you're keepin' as good as you're lookin'." Symaro presses his foot into the ground and digs his heel in for a few moments, the crinkling of pebbles and displacement of grime eerily audible in this area of uncanny stillness. T'was a mite unsettling, yet oddly soothing given the picturesque woodlands surrounding them. "I'd ask what's dragged you all the way out here of all places, but I have a gut feeling we're about to find out." He pruses his lips and whistles sharply upon noting the surroundings. "Smells like something big's being built here though. You planning to start your own town or something Morri?" His glance snaps back towards the armored woman. "Running for mayor or police chief?"
(Luard) Carrying several crates at once with ease, the larger of the two huskies already gathered sets the crates down among the rest of the large assortment. He's significantly larger than the cowgirl husky, somewhere around 9, maybe 10 feet tall. He's dressed in a long, black duster coat, the coattails reaching part-way down his legs, with a white shirt and black pants on, gaps fitted into each article of clothing to let the husky's tail and two large, white, feathered wings reach out the back of them freely. Once he's set the crates down and straightened back up to his full height, he walks over to the armored mutant, chuckling to himself at the interesting assortment of mutants approaching. "Looks like an interesting bunch." He spends a moment looking in confusion at the mascot fursuit, giving a bemused wave in return, before chuckling again at the armored mutant and lightly elbowing the side of the power-armor in a joking manner after the anime babe talks to them. "Looks like you've got a new fan already." The large husky adjusts the weapons on his back and belt, making sure they're secure. Looks like a sword and a glaive, giving a nodding welcome to the feline in a lab coat approaching as well.
(Nayru)
pot
(Junes) Junes walks in and double checks the paper making sure this was the meeting area. After seeing the base the chimeric hoodied hissah walks along calm but excited about another new adventure awaiting them in the unknown .
(Anbessa) Anbessa has been lazily leaning against his own lightly planted polearm as he mellows out as he awaits the arrival of everyone else. Though he had certainly came to this prepared, he seemed either anxious or at least uncomfortable as he lightly can be seen tugging at the straps on what looks to be repaired police riot armor. Either he has not worn it in a while, or something else is going on, but either way he seemed to be rather armed, albiet in more straightforward equipment. With a polearm in one hand that he is leaning on, and what looks to be a rather intricately crafted bow, with a metal quiver rack on his back left shoulder that is seen supporting 10 rather nicely crafted, blue tipped arrows that lightly glow. Beneath them all is a small pair of bags with what seems to be replacement arrowheads and fletchings for making fresh arrows as they go. Still, this bun is wearing rather... Archaic weaponry. Though as new people start to approach, the buck simply lifts his previously drooping ears and gives one handed waves to everyone that arrives. Nobody he thinks he can recognize from a glance, but... Is that a fursuit? Ooookay... An anime babe gets a curious ear twitch from the buck as well. Not exactly a very common form, but hey, neat... Oh, there is someone! Symaro of course gets a familiar wave and smile from the bunny as well, the bunny's eartips twitching for just a moment. The catboy and tanuki also get curious looks from the bunny, but the buck certainly does not give an unwelcoming air to him as much as someone who probably is just mellowing out and relaxing before whatever misadventures are about to begin.
(Nayru) A brief sigh escapes an otherwise silent shadow as she makes her way to the meeting spot. It has been awhile since Nayru has came out all this way, much less by herself. Unpleasant memories playing back in her mind as she remembers her previous visits in this direction. Though this was to special for her to just sit back and ignore. The small bunny didn't look to be openly armed on first look. Her blatant gear consisting of an oversized, worn out hoodie and a ducktaped backpack, both looking to be rather old at this point. Yet one this did stand out from her. A cacophony of white, fluffy tails following behind her, moving in a mesmorizing pattern with whatever movement that she had made. Those eyes glance about for a brief second at the others who have came here. The usually variety of mutants one would expect from this event. Several of whom seemed to be actively armed. Nayru was rather wary, but otherwise remains natural as she moves about. Just finding a quiet spot to stand and wait to see if anyone else would show up.
