• As of today (08/19/2021), we'll no longer be accepting applications for What We Become Part 2: What Remains.

    We've given it some thought and have decided that with the current state of the lore, it's in everyone's best interest if we focus on what we have currently so that we can finish the story in a timely manner. Introducing new characters into the mix would not only complicate things, but it would be difficult for new players to acclimate considering the current player base consists exclusively of long-time players.

    All currently pending applications will be processed, but the application form is closed so no new applications may be submitted.

    Applications will open again closer to the release of our Build 41 lore. Info on that will be released at some point in the future, but I can at least confirm that we're making good progress with our writing and planning.

    Thanks for your understanding!!

Amelia Bennett


*Whirl Whirl Whirl*

The Helicopter Blades turned as they took off from the country club, Amelia silently grabbed her arm. Hank and Chris looked at her, but she didn't say much.

"Bennett?" Hank asks, but Amelia didn't respond. He just knew.

A few minutes later, the Helicopter landed at the High School, the Crossroads and York's Group were touched down giving them a few moments to stretch their legs as Amelia stepped out. She walked over to the fence, staring out into the red fog, and sighed.

Amelia turned to Hank, Chris, Angel, the Moss siblings, Jackson, Joseph, Marlene, Emanuel and Dani, who had assembled nearby, waiting to get on the chopper again, and then muttered "I can't go with you."

A few final words were said, some where important, some were of hate, some were of admiration. But, the time came, and the Helicopter departed towards Hawaii, maybe they could get out of this hole. Amelia thought that to her self as the Helicopter disappeared into the fog. Amelia went towards a wall and sat against it. She only had a few hours left.

Amelia lit a cigarette. Here, she was going to die, at the very least, she could have a cigarette beforehand. One last cigarette. At least, most of the people she came to care about, as much as she was a bitch sometimes, were going to survive, and who knows, maybe drink a something good. She hasn't drunk anything in awhile, as thought to a moment about how she couldn't have one last drink beforehand. She thought to this bar on New Hampshire Avenue. She used to get this nice Bloody Mary there regularly after work. If she got to choose one drink before she went, that would be it.

She thought of her life before, her shitty childhood, her shitty marriage, her shitty job, and the shitty situation she found herself in. That didn't matter now. Amelia opened up her jacket, and took her gun out of her holster, and cocked it and put it under her chin.

At the very least, Amelia finally had some peace.