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paradigm last won the day on November 26 2017

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  1. .oO(For clarity: I have no idea what is going on ground zero. I eagerly await explanations on this, but from Garland’s perspective and keeping in mind that Garland (bless him) is a dolt everybody on the ground is gonna be dead before he can challenge them to mortal kombat.) At the detonations below, Garland halted mid run and slammed his body against the nearby view port to peer at the carnage below. Lips peeled back and eyes grew wide at the carnage unleashed. WHAT WAS GOING ON?! THEY WERE BLOWING THINGS UP DOWN THERE?! DIDN’T THEY KNOW IT WAS HARDER TO FIGHT SOMEONE ONCE THEY’D BEEN BLOWN UP!? A fresh faced Mason in Poor Son guard, raised a hand to intercept him. “Vice-Commander you can’t go out th-“ Garland cold cocked him before the man finished. These masons! These cowards! Did they think this was honorable?! Garland charged forward making his way to open landing pad, his large form towering over those who stood in his path. “Sir! You can’t!” Another man began, before Garland hurled him out of his path. “No! Sir! We have incoming-“ Another started before Garland slammed him into the wall. Two men stepped forward each of them taking one of Garland’s arms. “We’re intercepting a pod! He’s not hearing us!” Garland dismissed that nonsense and shook the chuckleheads off him with a mighty two quick violent movements. The door to the landing pad was sealed and Garland manually disengaged to locks. “VICE COMMANDER!” A voice blared over the speakers. “DON’T GO OUT THERE! WE’RE INTERCEPTING AN ESCAPE POD! IT’S NOT SAFE!” Garland was too distraught to hear their words however, rounding on the disembodied voice. “YOU’RE NOT SAFE!!!!” The tall Izrali youth barely had a moment to contain himself as a large pod slammed into the landing pad before him, the shockwave sending the soldiers trailing him skidding to the floor. To his credit, Garland stutter stepped back and shouted at the pod’s inhabitant. “YOU! POD PERSON! EXPLAIN!” His unii was getting quite good to be honest, or rather that’s what the mysterious brand indicated he wanted to say in the strange national trade language. Too many outsiders said his native Izrali dialect sounded odd, so he had to trust that the translation beamed directly into his head was an accurate one, even if he wasn’t entirely certain on the pronunciation of certain words. “THE PEOPLE BELOW!? WHEN CAN WE FIGHT?”
  2. It took the former slave a few moments to gather his bearings, but once he did all systems were go. Throwing a thumbs up at Yonatan’s professionalism and class, Garland moved the universal symbol for “WooHoo!” in Tanner’s direction, Garland nodded his head and donned Rotheschild’s battered military cap. Though he was ashamed to admit it, the trophy gave him confidence and served to remind the otherwise self-conscious youth that sometimes he knew what he was doing. Tipping his head towards the mountains, Garland urged the others to action. “Fire Drakes aren’t that uncommon to this area, if we aim for a particularly sunny patch on the valley we’ll likely spot one looking for his breakfast.” Having little else to say at the moment, Garland saw fit to describe their prey. “Shouldn’t be longer than 6 feet. Small wings, only suitable for navigating the mountains. It’ll have smoke or steam coming off it. The blood is combustible, so we’ll want to be careful. It would be a few short minutes before they crested the hill and were able to spy their prize languishing in the sun, snapping at nearby lizards for sustenance. “Spotted.” Garland said quietly. “Remember, be careful of its blood.”
  3. " there is no loyalty, there is no honor, there is only power and fear. C O L L E C T I O N current: thread thread thread previous: thread thread thread B I O G R A P H Y
  4. wot did u say m8? Fite me for rl fgt!
  5. I’ll slip in on Aleksei and Danzillas family.
  6. I’d be happy to join in a non-leadership position. Maybe someone’s consigliere or soldier? I ain’t got the hutzpah at the moment to be in charge of another thing, but I can help bury bodies and dust some knuckles.
  7. I just want to say, I did what I did for the lolz and if that means I’m wrong, I don’t want to be right.
  8. Garland was nonplussed by the friendly barb, nodding with a small polite smile. “Ah...yes. There is a similar relationship amongst certain addicts in my homeland, as well. I believe it’s called ’grooming’.” He said little else, merely following Jericho’s lead as the older man made his way into the smoke shop and took a seat. The scent of the smoke shop was not necessarily unpleasant to Garland, rather it was alien and vaguely medicinal. He recognized some of the scents, but the atmospheric blend that assaulted him made him sniff uncomfortably. He couldn’t imagine how Borges stood it and for an instant, he took the half-man’s squirming as discomfort until the realization hit him. Wrong door. A lump formed in Garland’s throat. Did Jericho know? Had he seen? Were they going to break through the wall? Wasn’t the goal not to cause a commotion? Had something changed? Had Garland been listening? Had he missed something? Garland wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box, to be sure. Jericho was the leader, he couldn’t make a mistake, could he? Should Garland correct him? How did he correct him without the bouncer getting suspicious? Did he need to kill the bouncer? That came with a world of risks all its own. There had to be a way to communicate with Jericho that didn’t alert the bouncer to their righteous cause. What was their story again? Grooming. A former lifetime of experiences rushed through his mind in an instant. He’d been sent to the brothels in his youth. Wealthy men and women found some perverse pleasure in laying with a pit fighter. How had the male pleasure slaves carried themselves? How had they spoken? Garland removed his hair tie and repositioned the long dark locks about his face. Have to cover the scars. Left cheek jawline, upper nasal bridge right side, right eyebrow, right cheek. Positioning his hair, Garland moved in step stepping behind Jericho as the bouncer began his once over of the orange haired man. “No,” Garland said in Izrali, sticking his lower lip out in a soft pout. Leaning down Garland wrapped an arm around Jericho’s shoulder placing a hand sensually against his chest. Pressing his head next to Jericho’s he shot ‘bedroom eyes’ towards, the bouncer, his lips brushing against Jericho’s cheek as he spoke. “We have opium where I’m from, daddy. I thought you were going to show me new things? New experiences? I want to try something new.” Leaning in, he presses his lips to Jericho’s ear and whispered as sweet a nothing as softly as he could. “SorrySorrySorrySorry.Wrong door.SorrySorrySorry.” Garland needed to remind himself that he may owe Jericho a more in depth (possibly a three part) apology when they finished up this job...or at the very least he should buy the man dinner first.
  9. It took me a hot minute to find the appropriate gif that I could also paste into Val from my phone!
  10. The bestial nature that drove him provided Garland with enhanced perception. He could hear them arriving; his comrades, those sworn to fight alongside him in his just cause. Now more than ever he would heed Onesimus’ words, now he would be a champion, a leader! No longer would he be the clueless slave, the dolt, the idiot. Now he could unite them all with a rousing speech that would forever cement him in their minds as their steadfast leader. A hand at his back? No doubt a new comrade seeking words of comfort and encouragement. Garland turned calmly, a small yet rare confident smile plastered on his tanned visage. Eyes widened and Garlands heart stopped. A nude woman stood before him. He’d seen naked people before, an unfortunate byproduct of slavery but they didn’t usually touch him. “Ah...” Peering from the naked person to the other newcomers, Garlands stood up and stutter stepped away from Lakoti and turned to address the group as a whole. “...I’m...ah...Garland...the door is uh...immune to magic and alchemy...we’ll need to craft a bomb...before we...can get through the door.” Turning he pointed behind the compound into the surrounding mountains. “There should be a lesser fire drake in the nearby valley. We cut it open, take The crystallized fire nodes out of its throat and use those to blast our way in.” Clearing his throat, the dark haired youth crossed his arms and returned his attention to the team. “Any questions...should we um...get to know each other better...or loan one another clothing or anything?”
  11. Garland stood at the downward slope of the pagoda, a few meters shy of Jericho. This land was completely new to him and yet, this city reminded him of home...or parts of it, at least. He looked no more out of place than the coverall clad swordsman, long charcoal hair was tucked messily and tied back under a battered military cap, framing his scarred tan face. He wore a tight long sleeve undershirt and military trousers, sporting a sword belt and chest harness. The tools of his trade hunt at the ready: at his hip, the Izrali dueling sword and at his chest and back the tools of a forge master. “It...ah...is louder than I expected.” He said quietly in Izrali. “For some reason I thought it would be peaceful...serene even.” Peering out at the city, Garland's golden eyes shimmered sparking with bestial rage. “I...ah...guess it’s foolish to think anyplace can be like that these days…” —————— Garland's appreciation of the red light district was plastered on his youthful face. A seething rage boiled behind those hard Izrali features, a disgust for those who found profit from trading in flesh. Perhaps it was a bit prudish of him, but never let it be said that Garland looked kindly upon the exploitative of any populace. He did not make his way gently through, shoving any lingering john out of his path, his hulking form serving to quiet most complaints. After several bounding strides he met up at the rendezvous, his gaze settling on Borges with intensity. There was a pun to be made here...something about smoking the man out...but he couldn’t quite grasp it, couldn’t formulate the words behind the white hot rage rushing to the forefront. “One of us should approach as a buyer…” Garland noted, cracking his knuckles.
  12. Want to open the thread with us interrogating him?
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