Member
@AlexStarsion, you gave Daryll what he needed, didn't quite know he wanted, and wouldn't burden others with making.
- Last Seen: 8 yrs ago
- Joined: 10 yrs ago
- Posts: 198 (0.06 / day)
- VMs: 1
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Username history
- Draken 10 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
9 yrs ago
Current
I'm fighting the final boss of College.
6
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9 yrs ago
*Piddles about*
10 yrs ago
I have returned from the land of apathy with renewed vigor! Talk about ironic...
10 yrs ago
Aaaand I just made several google searches in a row about a cannibal cafe. Watch lists, I'm baaaack!~
3
likes
10 yrs ago
A new challenger approaches!
1
like
Bio
21 year old white man. Do I get Social Justice points for being gay?
Lame (and somewhat rude) jokes aside, I'm an American college student majoring in Media Studies and hoping to work in game design. I've run several tabletop RPGs over the years, mostly in the vein of D&D and Pathfinder. I dabbled in forum RP years ago, and am hoping to have a joyous reunion with the art now.
My greatest strength is probably my ability to realize my weaknesses and take honest criticism without feeling put down. One of said weaknesses is my bad tendency to proofread after posting something, so feel free to point out spelling mistakes or small grammatical errors if I've left a post lying around a little while.
I swear I don't bite, though the zombies might. (Ask me about my moral position on Necromancy.)
Lame (and somewhat rude) jokes aside, I'm an American college student majoring in Media Studies and hoping to work in game design. I've run several tabletop RPGs over the years, mostly in the vein of D&D and Pathfinder. I dabbled in forum RP years ago, and am hoping to have a joyous reunion with the art now.
My greatest strength is probably my ability to realize my weaknesses and take honest criticism without feeling put down. One of said weaknesses is my bad tendency to proofread after posting something, so feel free to point out spelling mistakes or small grammatical errors if I've left a post lying around a little while.
I swear I don't bite, though the zombies might. (Ask me about my moral position on Necromancy.)
Most Recent Posts
... Or there could be two people. I'm not @Mercenary Lord, but I imagine Zimmy would be down to get away for a few minutes and move her legs.
Out of the truck window came Daryll's voice, laden with sarcasm, accented by exhaustion. "Yeah, because everyone loves WARDEN. We'd be lucky if nobody tried to report us for something about being off duty or some shit. If we go officially, we'll need to prove who we all are, and then some database or another will show that we haven't started working yet." Daryll gave a heavy sigh as he clambered out and into the open air, cutting the conversations distance from five to two meters. Like everybody, his outfit was changed, although he'd had the sense to pack more cohesive clothing than Setzer, if only somewhat. Today's theme was vaguely blue, spread across his jeans, t-shit, and navy jacket.
"And we are not doing anything, as you so daintily put it, 'unofficially.' The sheer amount of trouble involved in that, both getting it done and the massive repercussions make it impossible to be worthwhile. You are literally the only one who has Daddy ready to help bail you out, and I don't see why we need to go to the archives anyways. What we need to do is report in." Daryll stopped himself there. He knew he needed to reign himself in, in a couple ways. First was that his usual attempts to be positive were fading fast in the face of his crappy mood and disdain for the type-A, high-and-mighty Galahad. More importantly, however, was the implications of his proposed course of action. Going directly to the capital is what every rulebook in all Rassvet military recommends. The capital needs information, and the princess should be kept in its safety, as well as her safety broadcasted to her family. The issue, when the princess realized it (and Daryll was certain she would soon), was that she would immediately become a hostage. Her highness's family would likely also be incredibly suspect about this third party, and unlikely to trust her own account so long as she was kept in captivity.
As much as Daryll wanted to be friendly to their de-facto guest, he was quickly realizing that she needed to be excluded from some discussions, for reasons unrelated to trust. "Fuck." He thought, "And here I hoped this could go well."
"And we are not doing anything, as you so daintily put it, 'unofficially.' The sheer amount of trouble involved in that, both getting it done and the massive repercussions make it impossible to be worthwhile. You are literally the only one who has Daddy ready to help bail you out, and I don't see why we need to go to the archives anyways. What we need to do is report in." Daryll stopped himself there. He knew he needed to reign himself in, in a couple ways. First was that his usual attempts to be positive were fading fast in the face of his crappy mood and disdain for the type-A, high-and-mighty Galahad. More importantly, however, was the implications of his proposed course of action. Going directly to the capital is what every rulebook in all Rassvet military recommends. The capital needs information, and the princess should be kept in its safety, as well as her safety broadcasted to her family. The issue, when the princess realized it (and Daryll was certain she would soon), was that she would immediately become a hostage. Her highness's family would likely also be incredibly suspect about this third party, and unlikely to trust her own account so long as she was kept in captivity.
As much as Daryll wanted to be friendly to their de-facto guest, he was quickly realizing that she needed to be excluded from some discussions, for reasons unrelated to trust. "Fuck." He thought, "And here I hoped this could go well."
inb4 people start to turn
Of those body bags, about what percent are ordered due to suicide?
I wanna call that ship you had a picture of the "Mist Eagle." But then I realize that it's too big. As Glad0s said about Chell, it's "soaring gracefully. Like an eagle. Piloting a blimp."
Gotta just work through that funk.
dun-dundun
Won't you take me to
dun-dundun
Funky Town?
Glad to see someone has addressed the elephant princess in the room. Here's to hoping she doesn't run off due to uncertainty about her fate with military-folk like us.
((Keep listening to the song from the above post. I recommend right click -> loop.))
Daryll was taking deep breaths. Everything ached from exertion. His brain was not functioning fully. He moved in parts. First, his arms propped against the back of the bench most of them had been clinging to. Second, he braced his body. The third step was the hardest: liftoff.
One foot at a time, he walked to the truck's doors. Arm out, hand to handle, grab and turn. He worked his way outside similarly. He turned around, to where the others were slowly exiting their own states of shock.
"Step one. We get beds. Step two, we get food. Probably not the munchie shit in the back. Step three, we sleep until next dawn. We can all look forward then. And talk. Prolly gunna be lotsa talkin." Darylls words were beginning to slur from how tired he was. Still, everyone else seemed to be at least as much stunned as dazed, so he took it on himself to walk over towards the motel. He was halfway there before he trudged back and asked Gideon for cash. There were few words, just a muttered thanks and an quiet understanding that any debt stuff could be figured out in the morning. First was sleep.
There were a lot of rooms for normal standards, but with... Eight people? Not enough. He reserved five and called it good. He could bunk with any of the guys, and the girls both knew him well enough... Only maybe the princess wouldn't want to. The drama wasn't quite his issue anyways. Keys in tow, he shambled back to the truck. Seemed the others had filled the gas, and the relatively good food was being passed around. Daryll didn't bother hiding his disdain when he saw a glass bottle somewhere in the mix. He wasn't about to waste energy changing his expression.
Daryll was taking deep breaths. Everything ached from exertion. His brain was not functioning fully. He moved in parts. First, his arms propped against the back of the bench most of them had been clinging to. Second, he braced his body. The third step was the hardest: liftoff.
One foot at a time, he walked to the truck's doors. Arm out, hand to handle, grab and turn. He worked his way outside similarly. He turned around, to where the others were slowly exiting their own states of shock.
"Step one. We get beds. Step two, we get food. Probably not the munchie shit in the back. Step three, we sleep until next dawn. We can all look forward then. And talk. Prolly gunna be lotsa talkin." Darylls words were beginning to slur from how tired he was. Still, everyone else seemed to be at least as much stunned as dazed, so he took it on himself to walk over towards the motel. He was halfway there before he trudged back and asked Gideon for cash. There were few words, just a muttered thanks and an quiet understanding that any debt stuff could be figured out in the morning. First was sleep.
There were a lot of rooms for normal standards, but with... Eight people? Not enough. He reserved five and called it good. He could bunk with any of the guys, and the girls both knew him well enough... Only maybe the princess wouldn't want to. The drama wasn't quite his issue anyways. Keys in tow, he shambled back to the truck. Seemed the others had filled the gas, and the relatively good food was being passed around. Daryll didn't bother hiding his disdain when he saw a glass bottle somewhere in the mix. He wasn't about to waste energy changing his expression.
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