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Praetorian last won the day on June 15

Praetorian had the most liked content!

About Praetorian

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  • Gender
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    Trapped between dreams and reality.
  • Interests
    Information, conversation, coffee.
  • Occupation
    Professional Deflector

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  1. “Kennedy huh? That’s a nice name.” The comment is made as he retracts his own hand and then shifts to look back at to sea. His gaze lingers on the horizon, looks past the rays of light to a growing darkness that is billowing toward them from some place far offshore. “Why else would I be here? It’s a matter of opinion, but it seems to me everyone has at least one or two skeletons in their closet. Things that haunt them, decisions they regret. I think that’s just part of living. I’m pretty sure the only people that don’t carry around guilt and regret are sociopaths and dullards.” From somewhere just beyond his line of sight, a flash of crimson illuminates the shadow strewn horizon, momentarily causing it to glow a deep red. Within the same second the distinctive sound of thunder rolls across the open ocean and reverberates throughout the vessel. “I think there is a storm brewing. First time on a boat, little nervous about rough seas. Does that count as trouble?” Richard turns from the bow to head back toward the superstructure and all the comforts of a climate-controlled room, however he stops dead well before he can reach the hatchway. Although it happens far too fast for him to process it in real time, he is vaguely aware of another flash of light, as well as the blast of thunder. Although this awareness exists purely at a subconscious level. His conscious mind is grappling with an emergency. In less than a second the entirety of the vessel is bathed in vermillion, the metal a natural conduit for the flow of electricity allows it to mostly pass harmlessly through. However, the abundance of wiring provides numerous paths for the current to travel through, wiring that connects to busbars, circuit breakers, fuses, transformers, and generators. In that same second nearly every piece of equipment is tripped or burnt out. Ventilation shuts off, the engines go dead, navigation lights go out, and the vessel drifts aimlessly forward not by power but by its own momentum. Although the lightning strike wasn’t particularly close to him, the crack of the thunder was close enough that the sheer strength of the pressure wave lifted Richard from his feet and tossed him like a doll to the ground. Laying on his back with blurred vision and ringing ears, the agent is caught in a momentary state of shock. He’d felt his chest compress, the air forced from his lungs, the distinct pungent smell of ozone saturated his nose, and his vision so thoroughly overwhelmed that even well after the bolt of lightning had dissipated, he still sees splotches of red. Laying motionless on the deck of the dead ship, looking off into the sky, he feels something wet land on his face. Before his brain can make sense of it, something wet hits his face… and then another, and another. It is only after several seconds he realizes that the sky is no longer bright and blue, but a dull grey. “It’s raining.” Realization finally sets in.
  2. Praetorian


    So my most recent character Shi is suppose to be a faceless nameless assassin. Although the kanji are different Shi is the sound for both 4 and Death. Similarly Ku is both the sound for 9 and agony. Finally, the number 49 Shiku is a similar sound for the phrase to run over.
  3. Praetorian


    If I remember correctly @Paroxysm has one named Glory Be.
  4. What makes Richard a good F.I.S.T. agent isn’t his strong gut instincts or even an abnormal level of awareness. In fact, by all accounts he lacks intuition and his ability to notice things is average at best. No, what makes Richard an excellent detective is his inability to stop constantly overanalyzing everything, paired with the habit of periodically double checking himself to ensure that his analysis remains within the realm of reasonable. Ashing the cigarette off to the side sends a plume of embers and particulates drifting behind him, carried on the sea breeze. His pause in conversation is held just long enough allow the silence to edge upon the realm of discomfort. The game is afoot. “A regular huh?” Another puff and then he tosses the cigarette off the port bow. “What gives you that impression?” The problem with lies is that they often aren’t well thought out and anything more than a cursory glance at them often reveals their faults. Richard knows, for example, that there is nothing about his appearance that can be used to draw the conclusion that he is a regular. On top of that, his choice to purposefully use the least efficient method to travel through the gambling hall ensured that he gave the appearance of someone who was lost and had never been on the vessel before. Kennedy’s white lie simply didn’t match the reality of the situation. “No, you aren’t correct at all. This is my first time on a ship. I decided to go outside and take a few minutes to appreciate sailing about on the high seas. New experiences and all. Plus, I’ve always found it rude to smoke indoors.” A lie for a lie, the difference being his is blended with elements of the truth. Richard stands and walks next to the woman, his arms catching the railing as he leans into it to look over the edge at the bow of the vessel. “I can’t imagine most people are here for the music, let alone the noise. No, I imagine most are here to drink and gamble, to waste their money so that they can forget the problems that haunt them. Wouldn’t you agree?” His head turns slightly to the right to look at her, his gaze apathetic and aloof. However, beneath his placid visage is a storm of thoughts and possibilities, each fueled by every movement she makes and more interestingly, the ones she doesn’t make. “Next time maybe say you’ve had too much to drink and that you needed fresh air. That would have been more believable.” He switches the glass to his left hand and then extends his right toward her. “Does my stalker have a name? I’m Richard by the way.”
  5. As Kennedy walks past him, his eyes drift from her head, to her feet, and then back up to her waist line where they linger for a moment. There are no obvious bulges, no anatomically incorrect shapes, nothing that indicates she has a weapon secreted away within her immediate grab area. He churns the numbers, pondering the odds that another passenger would come out here so shortly after he did. The voyage was fresh, so the novelty of being on a boat out in the ocean might distract people from the gambling and entertainment, at least for a few minutes. So, there was that. But there were two factors worth considering. The first, the time frame. The amount of time between when he exited, set down, and she joined him at the bow is negligible at best. This suggests that she saw him and exit and followed. Although, it could have also been coincidence and she just so happened to be going to the same place as him. The second, familiarity. The security features within the gambling hall provided him a certain advantage that might not have been readily apparent. This advantage comes not from the cameras or even personnel, but the copious number of mirrors that allow the security personnel to indirectly look at spots where people might assume they are safely hidden from prying eyes. These same mirrors afforded Richard the opportunity to regularly check behind him, which meant anyone following him would have regularly had their reflection show up. Kennedy, who stalked him like a predator ready to ambush prey, is a familiar sight by now. “Having a drink and enjoying the sea breeze, clearly.” He finally responds to her question while lifting his glass and taking another sip. Although her body language is nonthreatening, and she’s clearly left herself open, the agent is unable to rule out the possibility of her being a threat. A false sense of security is easily exploitable, and Richard doesn’t plan on having some dame get one up on him. Less than 20 feet apart. I can probably stand up and push her overboard before she can draw a weapon. Finishing off the contents of the glass, he lowers it from his lips. “So, what’s a girl like yourself doing, following a man like myself?” People always expect to be confronted with subversive tactics, however, Richard found that the best approach is to circumvent their expectations by being blunt and overt.
  6. There is apparently a free borderlands 2 DLC. Posts may be delayed. I'm not sorry. (Well, kinda sorry. Promise I won't make anyone wait very long. ❣️)

    1. Show previous comments  1 more
    2. supernal


      What system and what’s it add?

    3. Praetorian


      I have BL2 for PC and PS4. It adds new maps/bosses/loot and expands on the story. @supernal

    4. SteamWarden


      Don't the glorious Ultra HD Texture pack for both BL2 and BL:PS

  7. Richard’s trek takes him around a poker table, past a bank of slots, along the backside of a group of roulette tables, and just out of arm’s length of some blackjack players. His destination being none other than the tellers working behind the cage. Pulling a coin purse from his back pocket, he exchanges three marked gold pieces for a few dozen chips. While waiting for the teller to complete his transaction, Richard takes a moment to survey the room. There are of course standard security items like cameras, and mirrors, as well as uniformed personnel making rounds. His interests aren’t in the obvious though, and after a few seconds of casual observation he identifies a handful of people that don’t conform to any established standards. By all accounts they appear to be guests, however they aren’t fixated on games. Some appear to be drinking and socializing, most likely paid to keep patrons distracted and entertained. However, it’s the ones that are vigilantly watching and moving in easily recognizable patterns that catch his attention. Plain clothes security, or perhaps something else? “Excuse me sir?” The voice calls out from behind him, breaking his concentration and drawing him back to the present. “Oh, sorry.” He turns back to the teller to collect his chips. “Thank you, by the way.” He offers up as he departs from the cage. Occasionally glancing up to look at the mirrors and cameras, he follows a winding and inefficient path, one that weaves in between slots, as he makes his way to bar. He pauses there, waiting for the bartender to notice him, before offering up a handful of marked silver pieces. “Can I get a double of Dougton Family Bourbon 20 year reserve on the rocks?” The bartender obliges him and Richard rewards him with a tip of marked copper and tin pieces. Taking the glass, Richard departs the bar and heads for the center thoroughfare, which he follows to the opposite side of the hall. Exiting a set of doors places him near the forepeak. Walking forward he rounds a windlass and then makes his way over to the anchor winch, which he promptly ducks behind so that he can plop to the deck, out of sight. With his back propped against the steel supports, he sets down his glass and lights up another cigarette. With sips of bourbon and puffs of smoke, Richard bides his time, waiting for something or someone.
  8. I can confidently say that the most deserving won. 😐 just kidding. But I would like to thank my mom and dad. Without them birthing me, I'd never be here today to accept this prestigious honor.
  9. Guess I'll tackle the second question. The ability to wander into something is pretty high. There is a lot of lore for Valucre, and while I never tell people to read all of it, what I do recommend is taking a look at the canon updates and quests in the lore pages. These are RP opportunities generated by the board leaders as well as your fellow users/roleplayers. So it is very possible for your character to just wander into one of these if you so choose. Beyond that, there is plenty of stuff happening in the water cooler in terms of people trying to organize RPs and get other players on board. So highly recommend checking that out. There is probably a proper greeting party somewhere around these parts ready to drop a bunch of links on you to help out, so I'll leave that to them. Anyway, welcome aboard and if you have any questions feel free to ask. Someone is bound to know the answer.
  10. "You want me to go where?" "We want you to go to the Full Deck and do a full and thorough investigation of the vessel. The military sucks at its job." "So lemme get this straight. You're going to pay me to gamble and fuck whores?" "Look Richard, I'm not telling you to go gamble and fuck whores. I'm just saying, go do a thorough investigation, explore every option, leave no stone unturned. If you end up gambling and sleeping with some guys and gals in the process of your investigation, so be it." Richard's head cants to the left as he looks at the F.I.S.T. director, about an inch and half of messy dirty blonde hair flops to the side. "Look, that last job was carried out by that cat who is a peacekeeper now. I don't know what you think I'll find." Richard is met with a dismissive shrug from the director. "Nothing good comes from Last Chance. Nothing good comes from gambling or prostitutes. It isn't a question of if they are dirty, the question is how dirty. Can we clean it up with a dustpan or do we need bleach? I don't know why you're arguing with me. If you don't find anything what's the worst that happens? You got paid to have a good time." Rolling his head back, Richard leans back into his chair to stare at the ceiling fan. Reaching into the inner breast pocket of his coat, he pulls out a cigarette from a silver cigarette case and a matte black lighter. Placing one in his mouth and using the other to light it, he takes a few puffs before finally looking back at the director. "You're right. I shouldn't be bitchin' about a good time." Pocketing the lighter as he stands, he walks a few feet past the director before coming to a stop. "You bought me a ticket, yeah?" "No. Buy your own, we will reimburse you for it later after you file a claim." The director responds, while turning to face the agent. Before Richard has a chance to protest the director ushers him out of the door of the F.I.S.T. regional field office. "Stay out of trouble, Richard." Approaching the dock a few hours later, Richard negotiates the throngs of people lining up to board the Full Deck. His trek ends at the ticket booth where a handful of tin pieces and a marked silver piece are traded. "Thanks doll." The comments made in parting. The depthless apertures of his eyes dilate, causing the bleak voids to overtake the brown irises allowing him to fully ingest his surroundings. There is a bachelorette party, a few businessmen, a lot of geriatrics, and about a half dozen other people that he can't place into any specific group. The spread doesn't surprise him and is by all accounts unremarkable. But, truth be told, a good front should be indistinguishable from a legitimate business. Crossing the brow onto the main deck he immediately parts from the herd, and works his way to the aft of the vessel. Upon reaching the stern he leans into the bulwark and peers into Casper proper. The city is haloed by noon light, but just past its limits the obvious signs of a stormfront can be seen. "Well, it'll either be gorgeous sailing or a vomit storm." His own comment gets his brain firing as he suddenly realizes he's never been on a vessel before. Shit, do I get seasick? Guess there is only one way to find out. As the last passenger boards, the gangway is raised and the Full Deck's propellers begin to churn up water. Within seconds the vessel begins to push off from the docks and then turns southeast to head out into the bay. Taking just a moment to appreciate the grandeur of the casino ship, Richard eventually pushes off from the railing to head into the gambling hall. It's time to finally earn his pay.
  11. Welcome to Valucre, I'm sure you'll have a great time. Also, totally unrelated, thanks for following me! Just be warned though, I never post anything particularly interesting so prepare to be disappointed.

    1. Alpha Fox

      Alpha Fox

      I promise I won’t be disappointed 😂 And of course, thanks for taking time out of your day to welcome me! If you ever would like to rp, send me a message!

    2. Praetorian


      I might hold you to that!

  12. This is what happens when you got gallivanting about at summer camp.
  13. -twiddles thumbs- You can't get mad at me. We did say shenanigans.
  14. “What’s a hospital?” The question rolls off his tongue as naturally as someone asking for directions to the restroom. Before an answer can be given, Farkis closes his eyes and searches through his vast database of discarded memories. In the brief time between closing and opening his eyes, he learns three things: The first is that it is never lupus. The second, he absolutely wants to play House doctor. And the third, Vicodin is delicious. “So, a few things right quick. I don’t want money. I want to be a doctor.” His hands drop down into his pants pockets as he walks toward the tent exit. “Also, it’s a hospital. We could just go in as patients. Well… you guys could. I’m going to go apply for a job.” He crosses the threshold into the night air, only to pop his head back in a second later. “What I’m saying is that your plan sucks. It’s like you don’t even know how to terrorist.” And with that the titan is gone. Approximately 10 minutes later. With a minor gesture of his hand the door to the hospital slides open and Farkis enters. A moment is taken to survey the lobby before he heads to the receptionist’s desk. “Hi, I’m Dr. Marisante…. Oooh that’s so Holmesish sounding. I don’t like it, Jim was terribly dull character…. Sorry, lost in thought. Anyway, any chance this fine facility is hiring? I recently left a small practice in Hell’s Gate and I’m looking for a new start.” If Farkis were to make a wager it would be on the fact that no one in the history of medicine had ever gotten a job by talking to the receptionist. Still, what was the worst that could happen… it’s not like they could tell him no. No one ever told him no.
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