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1 mo ago
Current The past tense of "shrek" is "shruk"
1 mo ago
you COULD be the "fuck everything" bard or you could do a Vicious Mockery build and make it your life goal to outright kill a man at 30 paces by shouting "You have big gay!"
1 mo ago
Shout out the absolute mad lads and lasses over at Myriad Reality who have 141,367 IC posts over the past 5 years with only 15 members
2 mos ago
I just saw a Ted Bundy MxM Transgender Romance RP request and I need to know if it's against Guild rules to kinkshame someone.
1 yr ago
Remember kids, racism is bad unless it's against elves. Damn dirty knife ears ruin everything.


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Ayden Newport

Faded Lantern Inn - Night

Ayden ran a few more spur of the moment errands while the sun was still up before turning in for the night at the Faded Lantern. He purchased himself the second cheapest room in the establishment and made a point of locking his door behind him as he stepped inside. It wouldn’t do to have someone waltzing in on his work. He removed his coat and emptied the contents of the numerous hidden pockets lining the inside onto a tiny wooden desk in the corner. Opening his shirt, he removed a cloth wrap from his waistband and set that on the desk as well along with the paperwork he’d stolen earlier. All together the items constituted a sort of homebrew forger’s kit and he planned for it to be put to good use that night.

He cracked the seal on the stolen documents and scanned the contents. The signature and the contents of the paper designated the holder as a member of the Wagorski Shipping Company and a licensed traveling merchant. Ayden smiled. It was just what he’d been looking for. He used an ink well and a rock to hold the paper open and weigh it down as he set about analyzing the handwriting and practicing the wide, sweeping curve on Mr. Wagorski’s E’s by the light of the candle provided to him.

Ayden barely had half an hour with his tools before the sound of multiple pairs of heavy footsteps quickly approached his door. There was a brief pause before Ayden sprung to his feet, snatching every scrap of paper off the desk as he did so, and cast them all to the floor. He gripped the desk with both hands and heaved, dragging it across the floor, and pushed it up against the door with a muffled thud. The footsteps reached his door in the next instant and the door knob jiggled as whoever was on the other side attempted to open the door.
“Give it up, Newport!” a gruff voice called out, “No windows for you to jump out this time!”
Ayden didn’t bother listening to the accompanying chuckles as he snatched up the lit candle on his desk and set the collection of papers on the ground alight.
“C’mon, mate just unlock the door and we promise to go easy on you.”
There was only the sound of Ayden’s frantic shuffling as he gathered up the last bits of paper and cast them on the now somewhat sizable fire.
“No? Can’t say I didn’t-- you boys smell something burnin’?”
A second voice spoke up from farther down the hall with an edge of urgency “He’s torchin’ the evidence, Captain!”
“Oh bugger me! You won’t get off that easy you bastard!”
The man on the other side of the door attempted to kick in the door which visibly bent under the force of his armored foot but held. The weight of the desk provided little protection but wasted the precious few seconds it took for the flames to char and blacken every last piece of parchment Ayden had with him. Unfortunately, his tools were metal and wouldn’t be disposed of so easily.

The desk and door finally gave as Ayden was busy throwing his forger’s tools under the bed.
“Jeremy! It’s so good to see you! How’ve you been?”
The constable, Jeremy apparently, swore colorfully and stamped on the flames as much in an effort to put them out as a display of frustration. He met Ayden’s smug grin with a glare to curdle milk as he seized the crook’s arm and twisted it behind him, dragging a yelp of surprise and pain out him.
“OUCH! Hey! What’s going on? I’ve done nothing wrong!”
“You and I both know that’s a lie,” the constable growled as he slapped a set of iron manacles over his wrists.
“You can’t prove that!”
“You attempted to set fire to the building and resisted arrest so you’re coming with us either way.”
“It was an accident! My elbow caught the candlestick and--”
Ayden’s head snapped to the side as he was glass jawed by an iron gauntlet and the last thing he heard as his head cracked against the floor and the world faded to black was something about how much someone hated listening to him flap his gums.

Royal Complex/Stronghold Keep - Dawn

Ayden woke in near darkness with the smell of urine and mold flooding his senses, almost overpowering his splitting headache. He fought back the urge to vomit as he made an attempt to stand. His balance was already off and the fact his hands were still shackled behind him did little to help. He did eventually manage to stand and took a moment to take in his surroundings. Cold stone on three sides and a door made of iron bars.
He did an awkward self pat down to see what he had to work with which turned out to be almost nothing. He had nothing but the clothes on his back. They hadn’t even allowed him shoes which he usually kept extra lock picks in for just such a scenario.
He sat back down on the hard stone and rested his head against the wall with a sigh.
Without some kind of miracle, he’d likely be stuck in that cell for years to come.
Ayden in a nutshell

The explosion rocked the tunnel, the shockwave reverberating through it, helmets hissing as they sealed ears to protect against damage. Firuzeh grinned maniacally as she felt adrenaline flood her system, and she felt biotic energy crackle along her nerves. She hadn’t expected things to get fun this early in the mission, and she let out a giddy laugh at the eruption of fire and sound that soon engulfed them.

Flicking the safety of her shotgun off, she narrowed in her focus on the closest opponent, hurriedly readying a rifle to return fire at their group. Her grin broadened, and in a blaze of eerie blue light she charged into the maelstrom, laughing maniacally as she slammed whole body into the man, feeling his armor cracking under the inertial onslaught. Not even bothering with her shotgun, she brought her fist down upon his helmet, cracking the visor and exposing the terrified face below. Again, she brought down her fist, smashing it into his exposed face, the sound of bone crunching and flesh tearing rising up amongst the chaos. She brought round her shotgun, firing off a single shot into what remained to finish the task, and looked up, eyes searching for the next target.

Bel felt the explosion more than heard it from her place farther back in the squad line up. She was a bit disappointed that she didn’t get to see the actually explosion but her spirits were quickly lifted as gunfire erupted throughout the tunnel. Her right hand glowed with that telltale biotic blue as she drew pistol with her left, charging out from cover behind the vanguards with a rousing warcry which sounded much less impressive outside the confines of her helmet. The blue aura around her hand spread across her body for a brief moment as she gestured at an asari in yellow who’d made the mistake of stepping out from behind cover. Bel splayed her hand in front of her and biotic energy slammed into the merc’s chest, enveloping her in a warp field. The asari stumbled back half a step and did her best not to cry out as her very flesh began to rip itself apart molecule by molecule. She just managed to stumble back into cover and avoid the rounds that pinged off the crate in front of her. Bel swore under her breath and took a few pot shots at other targets in cover in an effort to keep their heads down and give the vanguards breathing room. Even as she tried to focus on the task at hand, her attention repeatedly drifted over to Firu and her unyielding ferocity. It was utterly breath-taking and darkly beautiful the way she tore through people like a whirlwind of carnage. A biotic like Koyla was skilled without a doubt, but also a cool and collected professional. The krogans were brutal but this sort of violence came naturally to them as breathing and came off as more a reflex than anything. There was just something captivating in Firu entirely giving herself over to unbridled savagery.

Bel swallowed and hoped everyone else would be too busy with the charge to notice the pink in her cheeks that refused to go away even as she turned to yank an unlucky merc off his feet with a biotic pull. He yelped in surprise as he dangled helplessly in the air, slowly drifting toward her. She left him dangling there and instead took a moment to throw more rounds down range and make everyone on the other side of the tunnel think twice about popping up to shoot back. Normally Bel was much more collected and cautious but the knowledge they were racing against time made her reckless. In the excitement of the charge, she lost count of her shots and heard a furious hiss as her pistol shut down to cool off which would’ve been fine had she not been running full tilt at the enemy line with no cover nearby.
”Aw hell...”

Out of the corner of her eye, Firuzeh caught side of a squad member - Bel, if she recalled correctly - floundering in the open, the bright overheating indicator on her weapon pulsing boldly in the murky lighting of the tunnel. If she could see it, surrounded by the maelstrom of battle as she was, then she knew the Eclipse operators could too. Time seemed sluggish around her, adrenaline pouring through her system as she scanned the area, straining to find an opponent who had also taken notice of her ally’s defenseless state. Her eyes narrowed as one popped into her vision, an Asari raising a rifle to fire on the engineer from behind.

Firuzeh’s mouth tugged into a tight smirk once again, and she felt electricity arc along her nerves, the eerie blue glow of biotics rising around her. Like a slug from a mass accelerator she flew across the field, slamming the alien into the prefabricated concrete wall. She relished the expression of terror visible through the visor, her enemy’s actions seeming to come through in slow motion, clumsily fumbling for a knife or pistol to bring against the cyborg now intent on ending her life. Firuzeh whirled back, the omni blade’s flailing slash going wide as the Asari swung desperately at the air. In another instant, Firuzeh had ducked low, the glowing orange blade of her shotgun’s bayonet rising in response as she rushed forward, driving the point home into the asari’s gut, and again as she withdrew it and plunged it back in, hard ceramic plating useless against the repeated savage blows she rained down on its wearer. Screaming filled her ears, and blood splattered the ground, the asari frantically blasting her back in an ill coordinated biotic discharge.

Firuzeh didn’t care, and her gaze remained focused on her quarry - her shotgun was gone, thrown somewhere to the ground, but she cared not in the slightest, throwing herself at the desperate asari once more. Seizing hold of her, Firuzeh delivered a flurry of blows to her ragged opponent. She could feel bones and armor splintering under the hail of fury she unleashed. Feeling the rush of battle grow even stronger, the glow of biotics surrounded her once more as she launched herself and the asari into the ground. What remained of her opponent gasped for air, and Firuzeh grinned savagely as she drew her pistol, two bullets ending the Asari. She looked up at Bel nearby, winking playfully - for all the good it did through the helmet. “Almost got you there.” She called out gleefully, “Keep an eye out next time!”

Looking up to survey the clash of battle around her, it became clear that their own team was handily cleaning up the Eclipse team guarding the tunnel. Her lips folded in a smirk, and she turned back to Bel, “Fancy finishing them up with me?”

With the distraction provided by Firu, Bel had managed to dive behind another stack of crates and could only watch as her squadmate brutalized her opponent with eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. She nodded silently to the question and turned as much to hide the redness in her face as to return fire. Perhaps such a reaction to wanton destruction wasn't entirely sane. Though, come to think of it, most people who do mercenary work for over 10 straight years often aren't anyway. With that thought in mind, Bel leveled her focus once more, aimed at the poor bastard she'd yanked with her biotics, and dropped him with a burst of pistol fire just as he was stumbling to his feet. From there, she returned to exchanging rounds as she advanced from one set of crates to the next
@Arkitekt So do you want us to all write our characters into prison so they can meet or is it more of a "find and assemble your team" thing?

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space book also says you have big gay

Ayden Newport

Docks - Evening

A bright, cloudless day shone against the water as Ayden strolled along the docks, counting buildings and scanning signs as he went. He breathed the salty air and sighed contentedly as he thought back to his days working aboard that pirate ship. For all the scurvy and near death experiences, he still enjoyed his time out on the open ocean. He internally shook the memories away and resumed his brisk walk past the rows of vendors and docks. There were things to do before night fell so reminiscing would have to wait.

He didn't have to walk much farther before he found the building (more of a upscale shack really) that he was looking for. Rather than walk in the front door, he glanced over his shoulder before squeezing into the narrow alley between two structures. Ayden made his way around to the back of the building and casually glanced around once more before reaching into his shirt and producing a small roll of cloth. Opening the package revealed a set of lock picking tools and he set to work without hesitation.

A cheap building had complementary cheap locks which Ayden made short work of. He eased open the door just a crack and peered inside. Fortune favored him that day as the back room was vacant. Satisfied with his solitude, he closed the door behind him and took in his surroundings. The room he found himself in was some sort of records room packed with documents, letters, and held only a single desk in the way of furniture. A single door was positioned on the opposite wall and he could just make out soft humming from beyond the other door. Provided nothing went especially wrong, Ayden would have little trouble acquiring what he needed without detection.

His eyes swept over the room and locked onto a large chest sat in the corner. A smile spread across Ayden's face as he silently crept toward the chest with tools in hand. This lock was of a notably higher quality than the door lock and gave him a bit of trouble both due to its complexity and the added trouble of working extra quietly. Eventually the lock would yield with a muffled click and he returned his tools to his shirt as he opened the chest. It was filled with dozens of small holding various amounts of gold coins and silver bits... much to Ayden's disappointment. He closed the chest, replaced the lock, and was about to move away when something caught his eye. The grain of the floorboards changed drastically just under the edge of the chest. "That was almost clever," he thought to himself with a smirk.

Ayden took a near-silent breath as he gripped the chest and hefted the container up and to the side. The softest tap of wood against wood deafened him and he cringed, waiting for the inevitable "Who's there!?" but it never came. A soundless sigh of relief escaped him as he carefully pried open the trapdoor almost entirely concealed by the chest. He reached inside and retrieved a wooden box just big enough for a cat to curl up in. The contents of the box appeared rather mundane, just more documents and odds and ends. However, Ayden shifted through these diligently until he came across a letter sealed with wax. A grin spread across his face as he pocketed this and returned the box to its hiding place.

He nearly lost his grip on the chest as he set it exactly back where he found it, but just managed to stop it from dropping. Other than that, a rather mundane break in. Still, he whistled happily to himself as he made his way down the street toward the slums with his prize safety in his possession. He had need of a quiet place to work away from prying eyes and the inns there were at least the latter if nothing else. The cheap prices were also a welcome upside provided he was not robbed on the way there.
we don't take kindly to knife ears 'round these parts

@Atrophy Not intentional but a funny coincidence. It won't come up often if they work together because he saves it for people other than allies and clients but when it does... oh buddy

Ayden Newport

Currency: 42 bits
Ammunition: 0

”You can tell an awful lot about a person by the way they write a letter.”

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