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danzilla3

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danzilla3 last won the day on December 29 2019

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About danzilla3

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    King of the Monsters

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    One hundred percent ma-male.
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    Blessing the rains down in Africa.
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    Gaming, roleplaying, reading, going to the movies.
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    Professional hyena wrestler.

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  1. We could have like, an oversight committee. Maybe characters from Aleth can show up to testify?
  2. SUMMARY: Returning to the Village of Everrun to repay a debt, John Wilder finds nothing left of the town but ashes. But there is little time to mourn, as he decides to build a new city on the site of the old one, naming it New Everrun to honor the fallen townspeople. Summoning his second-in-command to the site, construction gets underway. In the following weeks, a military engineering corps formerly belonging to John's lover Patricia turns up to help. Six months later, the city is mostly complete, and Jack and Thurgood celebrate the achievement. SHORT SUMMARY: John Wilder and the Wild Hearts gang build the City of New Everrun. @Csl
  3. "Yes they did," John assured Thurgood, "They were quite eager to live up to your standards. It would seem that plying them with barbeque and soft drinks had gained you no small amount of loyalty." Blonde had called ahead that she wasn't feeling too well, so she would be up a bit later. She had encouraged him to celebrate with his friend however, pointing out how vital Thurgood had been to the cities creation. Handing a glass to his second, he gestured out at the budding skyline. "Can you believe that all of this was nothing but ashes and dust naught but six months ago? And I couldn't have done it without you. Jack raised his glass. "To New Everrun!"
  4. Now that he found himself sneaking past scores of taken, Emile realized he should have guessed that a military base would be crawling with Enrele. A base was a hub of activity even during peace time; much less when there was chaos like this going on. Soldiers had mustered in to respond to the crisis, while civilians would try to find safety inside the wire. The soldiers were mostly gone, but there were still plenty of Hosts milling around; looking for anyone who didn't belong. Escape and evasion tactics were de rigueur in the Sniper Training Program however, and he had plenty of experience traversing enemy territory unseen. Though slower than he would have preferred, he was eventually able to make his way into the armory. The shelves and racks lining the walls were all empty, which didn't surprise Emile much. Enrele were smart, and just as able to use their hosts weaponry as the taken themselves. It didn't matter. What he was looking for wasn't any rifle or blade. At this point the threat had grown too great to be solved by small-arms. Doughton, and perhaps Lagrimosa's, only hope was to attack with overwhelming force. And hope that the collateral damage wasn't too great. Looking up at the solitary Golem standing immobile in the armory was a far cry from the ones he had seen in operation back at the academy. The machine had been stripped of most of its armor and weaponry, but it still had the one thing he needed; it's mana core. A dual-core battery capable of extraordinary energy, it was the last hope they had. Upon inspection he found that someone had attempted to remove the battery, but left it half finished for unknown reasons. He would need to repair it before he could continue. "Better find some tools..."
  5. The mission was simple, and for that Sergeant Emile Gareau was thankful. After the mess that had been the Doughton hivemind raid, going back to simple, uncomplicated jobs felt like a blessing. There would be no collateral damage in this mission. No worrying about killing anyone who didn't deserve it. All he had to do was hunt down some local criminal raiding the villages of a local group known as the Half-Men. Though strange-looking, they were good folk, who simply wanted this dangerous criminal apprehended. People like them were the reason he had joined the Military in the first place. Currently he was sitting in the village tavern, waiting for his backup to arrive. Command hadn't told him who exactly was coming, only that he would know them when he saw them. The notion had irritated the sniper, but he didn't argue. Orders were orders after all. @amenities
  6. Draskovic's office had been a bust. By the time Mal and Teddy got there local law enforcement was just about ready to swarm the place. Some smooth talking on his part had gotten them out of there without arousing suspicion, but also without any evidence that might have been there. It had been quite a blow. The dead businessman had been their best lead so far on the Assassin's Guild, and there was no telling what they might have found there. Anything mentioning the guild would be crucial to their efforts, and one way or another they would need to find a way to get to it. Luckily, Adaanai and Pavel had been far more successful in their mission to infiltrate Night Rhythm, a club owned by a local gang, the Dead Eyes, Draskovic was known to have ties to. The pair had managed to copy the club bosses hard drive, and even magically bug the entire building. While the drive was taking some time to decrypt, but the bug was already baring fruit. Currently Mal was sitting at the kitchen table of the groups safe house, listening to a conversation between two high-ranking Dead Eyes members. "We're fucked! You hear me? D-O-N-E Fucked!" "Calm down." "You fuckin calm down! Draskovic is dead! We both know what that means!" "Yes, his contingency; I'm well aware." "Then why ain't you freaking out?! He's got enough dirt in that fucking file to bury us ten times over, and it's set to be released in the event of his untimely death. Which you may have noticed just happened!" "Then why haven't we heard anything? It's been three days since he bought it, but there's been nothing; no news coverage, no cops knocking on our door, not a damn thing." "What are you saying?" "I got a hunch... that whoever bumped Draskovic off is trying to get to us through him. Like, he managed to get that file, and he's sitting on it." "Assuming this is true, why ain't they contacted us? I mean they got us by the short hairs here." "I dunno... but we better find out." Mal paused the recording there, and regarded the assembled members of his team. "You heard 'em. Somebody's putting the squeeze to the organized crime in the city, and they're using the Assassin's guild to do it. If this is true, we need to know more." With a few taps, he pulled up a map of the city, "Besides the Dead Eyes, there are three other major gangs in the city. The Black Knife Boys, The Day Walkers, and the Red Phantoms. Adaanai, Teddy, and Pavel, each of you pick a gang, and get me eyes, ears, or both inside their operation. Elekteri, you keep monitoring the Dead Eyes bug and let me know if anyone gets in contact with them. I'll be making a some plans for our next move." "Let's get to work, folks." @Zashiii @L E V I A T H A N @ODSTDRAGON @Laughingmad
  7. A mental command caused the poltergeist to alter its target from Lancellar to Eric, closing in to shred him from behind as he dealt with the gargoyle. Meanwhile the Apostate chose to sprint to the right instead of facing the Cragmar head on. Instead, the dwarf and his companion would be forced to trail behind him as he moved toward his true target, the still-dazed Lancellar. Using another command to ensure the remaining gargoyle would use up its life blocking Philip from advancing. When he reached Lancellar the disoriented woman was easy prey, and after a brief struggle he had her in a hold. He placed his knife at her throat, and began to back toward the rear of the building. "Follow me and she dies."
  8. "Am I to understand that you have failed to fulfill the terms of our arrangement?" Wrybs Brazhur had faced down more than one angry client during his time in the Thieves Guild. The wiry old goblin had grown accustomed to threats, yelling, and all manner of theatrics. He had stared down orcs twice his size, mercenaries who had killed for far less insult than he had offered, and politicians with far more power than he could ever dream of attaining. After two decades of this kind of work, he thought that he was past being intimidated by anyone. Until he had met Siegfried Magnus. It wasn't the piercing stare, or the scars on his face that spoke of a familiarity with violence that unnerved Wrybs. Nor was it due to any kind of overt aggression on the mans part. Rather, it was the complete lack of any emotion from him when the goblin had given him the bad news about the job he had commissioned. It was like he was looking at something so far beneath him that it didn't even warrant an emotional response. For some reason he couldn't quite put his finger on, it sent chills down his spine. "Ain't our fault," Wrybs snarled, hoping to look braver than he felt, "Friggin guards waltzed by just as me boys were coming out! You ain't paying enough for us to fight da bloody cops!" Siegfried calmly sipped from the cup of coffee on the table in front of him. In his finely pressed suit, he looked right at home in the cafe in the Skipwatch he had chosen for the meeting. By contrast Wrybs and the two associates he had brought to watch his back couldn't have looked more out of place if they were on fire. "You didn't think to learn the guard rotation for that area? Perhaps even bribe them to look the other way?" "Not enough time! You gave us two days; that ain't enough time to prepare!" Siegfried's gaze was withering, "I also payed double your standard rate. I hardly think it unreasonable to expect superior service for such a reward." Wrybs grunted, "No helpin it now. Cops took the bounty; nothing we can do." "I see," Siegfried said, "Then I assume you will be returning my payment?" "What?" Wrybs scoffed, "Not a friggin chance! No refunds!" "I see." In one quick, smooth motion, Siegfried plucked a knife from the table, and slashed Wrybs across the forehead. The cut was so shallow that only a small trickle of blood seeped from the wound. By the time his body guards had managed to draw their own weapons, the attack was over. The well dressed man went back to his coffee as though he hadn't just assaulted the goblin. "Y-you sonofabitch!" Wrybs roared, "You're fucking dead!" No sooner had the words left Wyrbs mouth did his hands fly up to his throat, and began to squeeze. Surprise turned to terror as he realized that he couldn't make himself release his grip. His bodyguards looked back and forth between him and their employer, unsure what to do. Just as his vision began to dim, he felt his grip loosen. Gasping for breath he looked up at Siegfried. "Da fuck was that?!" "A demonstration," Siegfried replied coolly, "Of what shall befall you should you fail to complete your task. Not that I will be so merciful as to merely strangle you." Once again Wrybs body moved without his willing it. With his right hand he drew the dagger on his belt, and splayed his left hand atop the table. "Should you fail me I shall endeavor to make your death as painful as possible. I shall have you cut apart your left hand piece by piece. Then you will start on your face; first the ears, then the nose and lips before you pry out each of your teeth. Finally, you shall take your own eyes. Do I make myself clear?" As the man spoke, Wyrbs was forced to ghost the blade over the areas mentioned. When Siegfried was finished speaking, he was once again in control of his body. He nodded hastily at the question. "Yeah, yeah, I gotcha. You'll have your compass gov, I promise!" "Good," Siegfried got to his feet and deposited a few coins on the table, "You have twenty four hours. If the Guard have the compass, then I suggest you tread carefully. And of course, no matter what happens you will keep my name out of it. Good day gentlemen." With that, Siegfried walked off into the city. @Veloci-Rapture
  9. Port Kyros was a wondrous place. While they waited for their new home to be built, Ren had suggested that he and his students take the opportunity to explore the city. Almost immediately he had been enchanted by the blend of cultures evident in every facet of the port. The architecture was breathtaking, colorful buildings and exquisite statues doting the landscape. Local cuisine was like nothing he had tasted before; especially the wide variety of tropical fruits on offer. The views on offer were equally spectacular. From the safety and comfort of a cafe, he could fully appreciate the beauty of the ocean. But now he was in search of something new. As he had sipped from a cup of tea, he had heard a couple speak of a store tended to by a talking fox. Having never encountered anything of the sort before, he decided to make his way there. Now he walked through the door of the Mil-Dot Port Kyros to see a fox seemingly inspecting some coins. "What vexes you, my small friend?"
  10. Seeing Isadora genuinely enjoying herself on the dance floor brought a wide smile to Jacob's face; one he reserved for family and friends. Life had been hard for the two of them these past years. For a time he hadn't even known that she was alive; assuming himself to be the last Fedele alive. When Izzy had found him, living in a small apartment above the bar he spent his nights fighting in, he thought his mind had been playing tricks on him. But as soon as she had embraced him, he had seen the truth. Now, seeing happy, he knew he would do anything to protect that smile. When the pair returned to their spots by the bar, Jacob couldn't help but return Nunzio's grin. Off all the men in Nu Sicily, he was probably one of maybe four or five who he would approve of his sister dating. Not that he would ever tell the other man that; no reason to make it too easy on him. But he was somebody that the Don respected, and more importantly, someone he knew would respect Isadora. All manor of rumors surrounded her, but Nunzio had never treated her as anything less than a lady. "Double Bass eh?" he replied to Nunzio when he answered his sisters question, "I picked up a bit of guitar over the years. Get me drunk enough and I'll even play a bit for ya sometime." Now he watched as Isadora dragged Nunzio along to deal with some Salvatore goons having a bit too much of a good time. If they didn't quiet down a bit, he might have to have a few words with them. @Aleksei @Veloci-Rapture @Ataraxy
  11. "Life is not a straight line." It was a piece of wisdom that his father had quoted to him many times during the years they had fought together. People, he said, tend to view life as a linear series of events from birth to death. But in reality, life was not one path, but many. Sometimes a road might come to an end before one was ready, and a new path would need to be found. One might stray from their path for a time, following side roads for good or ill. Despite this, the true path was always there, waiting to be rediscovered. All roads would eventually lead back to one singular destiny. For a time his road had taken him far from the light. He had killed those who had wronged him as well as those who had not; and if he was truthful, he still wasn't sure how much of it he regretted. Could a man truly atone for his sins without contrition? He did not know. But it seemed his journey was not yet over. Perhaps if he walked this new road long enough he would find it in himself to forgive his enemies; and through that forgiveness be redeemed. A mental command parted the teeth of his mask to show his eyes, and he met Michael's gaze. "I am Li-El ben Avinoach, and I shall walk this path."
  12. Despite the heavy coat he wore, Iwa never seemed to sweat in the warm weather of Port Kyros. In fact, anyone standing close enough to him would find that he gave off a slight chill; like the kind one might experience opening a freezer door. While this phenomenon was likely magical in nature, none who had met him were ever quite sure. Magical or mundane however, it suited him well in this climate. As they approached the Bravot Library he nodded his agreement of Leon's appraisal. "Impressive." In the weeks that had followed their groups formation, his companions would have gotten used to such laconic responses from the singer. Rare was the occasion that he expended more than a few words on a subject. Despite his lack of verbal communication, they never seemed to have a problem understanding his thoughts. It had been a long time since anyone had stuck around long enough to pick up on the subtle body language and facial expressions he communicated with. Solitude had never been something to dread for Iwa, but he often found himself enjoying their company more than he would have expected. His introspection was interrupted when a dinosaur of all things burst through the wooden doors of the library, heading straight for the group. A brief spin of his cane preceded him tapping it on the ground. In a flash the three companions were teleported out of the beasts path. Suddenly a talking cat was shouting at them. He turned to Leon and quirked his eyebrow as if to ask, "Shall we?"
  13. Shikai frowned at Ash's lack of decorum, "Now, now young man. We have some standards in this organization! When meeting a new acquaintance for the first time, you introduce yourself properly; like the young lady just did!" Turning his attention back to Darah, he returned her curtsy with a slight bow, "A pleasure to meet you Darah. Please continue!" Listening to the young woman explain her plan, Shikai was impressed with how much she had already thought out. Personally, he was more likely to make things up as he went along; improvising his way out of any trouble he got into. Still, he could acknowledge that there were times when a well thought out strategy was called for. Darah seemed to have a knack for that sort of planning; a trait that could see going far in their organization. Taking off his mask, he returned her smile, "An excellent plan! Now all we have to do is find a way to pass the time."
  14. Holiday shenanigans have pushed my return to posting to tonight (Tuesday). 

    Thanks for your patience!

  15. I'm still down to clown with the OFM. @Fierach
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