Avatar of Asura

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1 yr ago
Current At the end of the day, God is everyone's bull.
2 likes
1 yr ago
me the poopy you the pants.
5 likes
2 yrs ago
i relate.
4 likes

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Waiting list me daddy.
EDIT: On second thought, that character was a mess. No strong suit that can really contribute to a group. A bad case of trying to force something I take an interest in when it doesn't suit the situation. Time to look into the Tech Priests.


warhammer40k.wikia.com/wiki/Techsorcist
I'm working on a Missionary-turned-Hierophant with a penance for rousing speeches. Currently debating how useful he should be in combat.
I'd personally like to see a few more characters too.

Down with PM only CS submission!
There was something wondrous about the mighty Redfort. Growing up so far beneath the titular fortress, the gem of Redfield, the hallowed halls were synonymous with the high life lived by those fortunate enough to be close to the surface. For years, since she could remember, Bernia had dreamt of the castle and its splendor. How many starved days had she fantasized living in the excess of the inner keep? How many shivering nights did she pray desperately to be swept away to a plush straw nest inside the safety of its red walls? The idea that one day, just maybe, the comforts of the grandiose fortress so high above her head could be hers kept the pup struggling. It was a fantasy, something she could hook her paws into when hopelessness sought to drown her alive in the slums.

Now she padded silently within its cavernous chambers, no longer a mere pinkie deluded by illusions of grandeur. She would be no noblewoman, no unlikely peasant romanced by some royal prince and swept from worries. She would be a Watcher, one meant to maintain the peace she craved so badly in the piss ridden darkness of Mite Manger. One destined to bleed and die so others could live in her fantasy world. There was a bitterness in her at that idea, more prevalent than usual. Why did they get to live so comfortably? Why did they get to enjoy the benefits of the blood shed by mice like her, mice like those shuffling towards the catacombs with her? It wasn't fair... But she had learned long ago, before those pretty little dreams formed in her young mind, that life wasn't fair.

She'd just have to do what she could to make it more fair. For herself, that was. The ornate crossbow hanging loosely from her back by hastily woven fibers was a testament to her willingness to equal the odds, even if it disadvantaged others. That pretty faced noble boy would have to win his glory without daddy's precious weapon. She wasn't exactly sure how it worked, sure, but it was an advantage. Bernia would seize any advantage she could get. She would need every one of them, if she was going to carve out a better life in this damned Watch. With that in mind, the little rodent made to the weaponry so haphazardly thrown around the chamber she and her fellow initiates were led into. It was all old, rusted or outright broken. She'd need better. Something better...

The general crowd, as a result of her insistence on hanging back, had shuffled ahead of her. If anything, those at the head of the crowd would've had the best weaponry. That's where she'd find the best equipment. Like a rat to slaughter, the cutpurse exercised some quickness of foot and began weaving her way through the unwashed masses. Eyes well adapted for the pitch blackness scanned every nook and cranny as the underfed youngling bobbed and weaved under elbows and arms. She needed something good and shiny, something that wasn't rotted to the core with red rust.

Like that nice looking blade just ahead of her. A meek looking lad with a spear and a sword? He even had the fortune of nabbing a belt for it. It was probably mint condition inside that oiled up scabbard. A good find. To make natters even better, he seemed distracted, looking around, having his neighbor speak with him. She'd have to be careful, make sure not to tug the belt as she worked the clasp holding the sword to it undone. Without pomp, shame, or ceremony, Bernia saw fit to tip toe her way to this poor sod and, angling herself as to not be easily viewed by the she-mouse talking with him, reach out to untie the tethers that kept his weapon to his hip so she could make off with it.

@vietmyke
Interested.
I'm thinking up a Nadeshiko post now. Probably going to have her try stifling her giggles, but fail because she jiggles when she laughs.
@IrredeemableMayhaps the scientist doesn't need to be a walking armory from the get go.
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