Recent Statuses

5 mos ago
Current Been busy lately, courtesy of the guy who thought that it was a good idea to have 3 assignments and a test due in the same week.
6 mos ago
Cards against humanity is... more certainly something else
1 like
7 mos ago
*Person with Seeing Eye dog stops right next to me* *Goes to pet the dog* *Sees "Please don't pet the dog" sign* ;-; I cry every time
8 mos ago
Today I found out that birds are technically reptiles...
9 mos ago
I should probably sleep more.


Anyone remember the period a little after guildfall, when the site didn't have a lot of work put into it, the servers went down pretty often and people were moving out? We waited and waited until boom, Mahz made America the guild great again. That was about where I left off.

My mistake was trying to take on everything at once (and being cringy as hell but I mean come on). Well now I'm back, and better than ever.

And I'll be damned if I let anything get in the way of having a good time.

Most Recent Posts

@Spriggs27 I edited garret's text color not to clash with Jack's. Just thought you'd like to know.
Garret stood silently on the deck, ready to go at any time. His hood was raised and his eyes glanced around, at the approaching boat and its inhabitants and at the deck just around him. It was a survival instinct, as you never knew what could happen in a pitched battle. Most on the ship were honorable enough, but there was certainly a fair amount of questionable people too. Would they try something on the Aquarius, under the watchful eye of the captain and Izal? Probably not, but it didn't hurt to be extra careful. Chain mail helped his defenses against the unexpected but he wasn't stupid enough to rely on it for everything. Prevention is the best defense, after all. What doesn't happen can't hurt him, that was Garret's (other) motto.

He readied his crossbow as the True Blue inched closer and closer. He wasn't a big fan of pitched combat, but he'd been paid to fight. He wouldn't fire the first shot and he probably wouldn't put himself in any real danger, but he'd fight nonetheless. Garret tracked the movement of the sailors on the True Blue, eyeing up his targets. He felt the wind on his face, measuring its force and direction.
"A little to the left..." He muttered under his breath. "Wave's coming up. Gonna have to adjust..."
He kept his finger on the trigger and waited for the ship to come closer. There was some part of him that didn't want to be there, but he knew of a universal truth in this watery world. Those who don't work don't eat! Of course, there was a method of getting a lot from a little effort; make others do the work for you. Needless to say, Garret was no stranger to that strategy, but he'd have to pull his weight here. He wouldn't put in any more work than he had to, but he'd do what he was paid to do.
Garret quietly walked out the door with narrowed eyes, surveying the situation. The crew had spotted their quarry, and were getting ready to engage. That meant it was work time. The figure of the enemy vessel became clearer as the ship moved toward it. He made a dissatisfied scowl and looked around at the figures rushing around the deck. Some of the crew would no doubt be nervous. They were an experienced mercenary vessel so they didn't show it, but Garret knew that, at least inwardly, there was no one who wouldn't be on edge to some degree at the prospect of naval warfare. At least on land they could rely on the ground beneath them, but on the seas, their footing was in the hands of the helmsman. The guns were in the hands of the crew, but judging the from the small size of their target, hitting it would be difficult. The contractors probably wanted the thing intact anyways, and he was sure they'd gotten some fingers into how they wanted the mission to run. Even if they didn't, he was in unfamiliar territory. He hadn't known the crew of the Great Aquarius for long so he couldn't be sure what he was in for. In short, Garret didn't like the arangement, but he supposed it could be worse. He didn't like many things anyway, but one thing he liked was gold, and he stood to get a fair amount of it if he contributed here.

Garret walked out of the doorway to the inner hold and got himself ready. For the 12th time or so he checked his equipment. His dirk was sharpened, his crossbow was working perfectly, and his throwing knives were within easy reach. His grappling hook was there in case he needed it, slung on his belt at the back, hidden by his body on one side and his cloak on the other. He could feel the reassuring weight of his chain mail under his leather vest. He was just about ready. He threw a quick glance at the others on board, trying to judge how reliable they would be when push came to shove. He wasn't sure how much he liked the captain of the Aquarius. She was more of a diplomat than a fighter, which was always a negative in Garret's eyes. Someone who played with words was harder to read because it was difficult to figure out what they were really saying, and to make things worse, she was from a noble family. At least he assumed so, judging by her surname. Still, he had to begrudge some respect for her management skills. Though, in the end, a man that commanded equal (if not greater) respect from Garret was also on the ship, and at the very least, that man was somewhat easier to trust.

Garret turned his eyes to the grey-haired man on the deck. Izal Valencia, a man who Garret thought as the true captain of the Aquarius, to some extent. The man used his considerable experience to command the crew in combat situations, and when Garret had first arrived he had been surprised to see him defer to the actual captain, Delilah, given the grizzled mercenary's storied reputation. While Izal was named the vice-captain, Garret felt it was more that Delilah took half of the captain's duties and Izal took the other, bloodier half. There was something significant between them, some deep bond, and Garret didn't really know what to think about the arrangement. But, then again, that wasn't really his job.

Garret turned his head and shifted his gaze to the approaching ship, the True Blue as he'd heard it was called. Although, technically, they were the ones approaching it. He briefly reflected on what had carried him here, thinking of the previous job he'd performed, the recommendation he'd been given to look for the Great Aquarius, and particularly the money the last job had given and where it had gone. The money had disappeared slowly, mostly into food and restocking his knives and bolts, while he waited for the Aquarius to come into harbor. He still had some left, but it wouldn't last him long. Garret readied his crossbow, pulling the string back as he knocked a bolt to the body. He had a great deal to gain from this job, and he was looking forward to looting the True Blue for whatever he could. It was small but he usually stole small things so it evened out. Even if he didn't get to loot, he'd need to participate. He had a lot to gain from this job, but first he'd have to prove himself.
@Lord of Evil accepted. You pocket something from Delilah or the crew and you're a dead man.

Message received, loud and clear. I'll try to get an IC post up soon, but I'll be a bit busy so it'll probably come up tomorrow.
Right, here we are. Don't hesitate to tell me if something is unsatisfactory.

I hope I'm not too late for this. If I'm not then I can get a CS up fast, though maybe not till tomorrow.
Garret could only watch and glare as the demon child took a place at his table. That was because, despite his dislike of others, his temperament, general foul mood, inebriation and lack of standards, he knew that there was always a line to draw. It was more his pride than anything; pride that despite his reputation there were depths he wouldn't plunge. A pride that he wouldn't give up for anything, but a pride that was also keeping him glued to his seat when he'd much rather be somewhere that would excuse him from answering the child's questions.

Yes, that was why he could only click his tongue as the pale-haired demon ordered a drink mirroring his own, and why he'd already prepared an answer to the boy's previous question.
"Just forget about it." He said, half sighing, in an attempt to drop the matter.
It was clear that this demon was strangely maladjusted to this kind of society, which made it all the stranger that he was here. Still, Garret would not be swayed by the strangeness. Whether the child had realized or not, it was a clash of wills. Garret would stay in the fight until the kid left or his sanity ran dry, and in the interest of maintaining it, he'd take another sip.

He took the mug to his lips and swallowed a mouthful of the bitter liquid, before setting back down on the table.
"It's alcohol, kid." Garret slurred, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "And just what are you doing here anyway? A little tyke like you shouldn't be drinkin' things you ain't supposed to."

Garret, antisocial as ever, was decidedly not enjoying his time, though that was often the case. He was here today mostly out of habit, though he had to admit that the food was good as well as being reasonably priced. It was also relatively close to his apartment and was a pretty good place for business. That is, if there was any business around, which was not the case today. He wasn't really angry or annoyed, but he was a bit frustrated. But there wasn't much he could do about that.

The sour-faced man was suddenly taken out of his musings by a light bump on his back. Not an uncommon occurrence but one that required a specific response. Needless to say there were those who bumped into him on accident and those who didn't; people picking fights, and Garret would need to ascertain which was which. But as he turned his head, a steady stream of insults ready on the tip of his tongue, a few things clicked for him. The impact had been light, and the area affected was much shorter than he had expected. Very light, lighter even than he'd expect from one of the waitresses. His head completed its rotation and was met with a sight he hadn't expected. Horns, thin black and pointed. He shifted his gaze downwards and was met with a face much, much younger than he had expected. The insults died on his lips as he stared at the small thing. 'Demon' was the first word that popped into his head, but this kid didn't really fit the bill. He'd never seen one, but the word demon brought up images of horned, burly, hellish red-skinned beings with eyes the color of burning coals. Well, either that or really hot women. This kid was neither, but something about him seemed strange to Garret, even to his alcohol addled mind.

The cloaked man narrowed his eyes at the demon-looking child's line of questioning. Setting aside the horns and the ears, Garret was inclined to disliking children. It was something about their severe lack of reverence and inherent naivety that came from not knowing their place in the world, and this kid was ticking all the boxes. He seemed entirely unaware of the danger presented in the bar, as far as Garret knew, and that bothered him a lot, for various reasons. Still, as much as he hated children and other people, and as much as he'd do just about anything for money, but he had a heart. Twisted and black as it was, he wouldn't dole out punishments to those undeserving. Speaking of which, though, there was something the kid owed him.

Garret turned back to his drink, as if ignoring the demon child, taking the mug to his lips.
"Hey kid, seems like you don't know how things work around here." He said, taking a sip.
He wiped his mouth and looked back to the short aggressor. There was a clear contempt in his eyes, though it was not directed at the child himself - rather, it represented a certain dissatisfaction with the child's actions.
"An interrogation's all well and good but ain't there something you should be saying to me first?"
Out of the corner his eye Garret saw a waitress coming his way, drink in hand. As soon as she was in range he snatched the booze out of her hands and took a sip. A fistful of coins and mumbled thanks sent the waitress on her way to service the other patrons. He got a few funny looks for his gruff actions but they turned away soon enough. That was the beauty of the nightlife; so long as you weren't bothering people, they didn't bother you. He was a frequent patron of the queen of hearts bar anyway, so the regulars and staff were mostly used to his antics. At least, he hoped so. Besides, there were often worse offenders.

Once again, Garret glanced around the pub. It was filling full of the usual people, as well as some strangers. He made note of them but they didn't seem too particular - college students and tourists, mostly. The music pounded away at his eardrums, even as the droning of the patrons of the bar steadily rose in volume. With all that being said, it was too quiet, although that probably the wrong word. Despite the noise it was a rather peaceful night. Besides Garret's outburst there hadn't been many incidents of note, and his had only been of note because he did it. It was by no means a slow night, but there wasn't much going on. No angry yelling, no heated discussions between shady figures in the corners. This was be a good thing for many people, but for those like Garret who lived off trouble, It was a rather unfortunate event.

Still, the night was young, and Garret hadn't yet finished his drink. He took another sip and wiped his mouth before glancing around the bar once more. He'd savor his drink before he left the bar for tonight. Maybe then he could find something to pay the rent.
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