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3 days ago
Current I wonder if I should post an IC featuring potential RP ideas to set up, but there's only one that I actually want to make and the rest are just jokes.
2 likes
16 days ago
Okay so about that status I made days ago, about coming up with unique quirks for MHA OCs. If anyone's bored enough to help brainstorm with me via PMs, then I'd really appreciate it.
2 likes
25 days ago
I'd probably be up for a 1x1 MHA RP if I can only come up with some at least vaguely unique quirk ideas.
1 like
1 mo ago
Agent K was right about people and Tracer Tong was right about the scale of governance (and probably more but it's been a while).
2 likes
1 mo ago
I love how much the original Deus Ex was ahead of its time, cuz it sure as heck couldn't be made nowadays.
2 likes

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I might as well update this thing. It's probably a bad idea, but it's hardly the worst one out there given current events. Also, the above "bumps" are still largely relevant, so consider those if nothing else.

I'll get to any offers that come my way sometime tomorrow. Later guys.
@IceHeart I'm set in my decision. Take care.
@AmpharosBoy Thanks but I don't think that'll be necessary. I can already tell that I'm not gonna be in any position to keep up with this. When two days is all it takes for me to be left in the dust then all I can see myself doing for the majority of this is playing catchup, and that's no fun for anyone involved. In the end, I'd rather quit than have everyone slow down. Eh, what can I say, I'm a really terrible fit for group RPs it seems.

@IceHeart I think it's best that I be leaving. I was planning to do so after the mission was done anyway, which I'm convinced would have happened within the next few days. Gastrod didn't factor in any meaningful way regardless, so I believe fazing him out should work nicely for this. I'm sincerely grateful for the incentive for my writing up Gaston. I wish you luck with this RP.

Goodbye everyone.
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@IceHeart Well I guess this rate of posting is something I should have asked about when I signed up for this RP. I'll just cut what I have short then.
@IceHeart I'll get to posting sometime today, so if you could postpone you're next post for a bit, I'll appreciate it.
I'm not sure if I should bother mentioning anyone in my posts in a group this small, but I can do so next time if it's preferred.
It would be a little while longer still before Gastrod would fully get used to the insistent beeping that he associated with the notifications his personal communicator received, a low enough volume that only he could effectively hear. In picking the device from his robes and fiddling with it until he eventually got it to show him what he wanted to know, it occurred to him that this little lunch break of his was pretty much over.

With a general sense of how to approach this new mission, the namekian returned to the Scather, keen to gather as much intel from the ship's available systems as he could competently understand. Since these latest offenses affected multiple villages by the looks of it, it felt appropriate to confer with the onboard holographic map readings to get a proper visual representation of the settlements already hit and those projected as most at risk. For Gastrod, the idea was to pick the most outstanding one of the latter and station himself there. The idea did occur to him that searching through a previously assaulted village might allow him a chance to come across some manner of clue to where the victims could have presumably been taken, but he decided on saving that option for the possibility of the stakeout taking too long.

"... There's no guarantee that the victims will still be alive by the time we arrive, little one. Our first objectives are to defend the natives who haven't been captured yet, and make contact with the trappers if at all possible. Anything else is too early to predict," responded the namekian to Burnet's question, taking to his self-imposed responsibility to prepare the "budding lad" for the horrors of conflict with all the sobriety he could spare and none of the tact.

After signing up for the quest, a task certainly expedited by the helpful operators nearby, Gastrod made his plan of attack known and patiently awaited for dispatch via Yardrat, his arms crossed in silent introspection. How his fellow fighters factored into the mission, he couldn't say nor did he feel it urgent to group up just yet considering how they didn't have a read on where the attackers were located. If the aggressors were indeed getting bolder with each hit, then he couldn't even discount the possibility that multiple settlements may yet be attacked at once.
It didn't feel quite right, from where the namekian was standing (or floating to be more accurate) to eradicate all the penned up space cattle while they were still locked up in the ranches he came across. Whenever possible in fact, Gastrod saw to it that the hapless herbivores were set free from their holding areas before he reduced their former livestock prisons into smoldering craters. Course his patience only lasted for so long, and so after the first ranch he hit, any stragglers that didn't heed their liberator's stern call to evacuate would meet their fate in the smoldering cavities where their homes once stood. Oh well, he gave them a chance at least.

Of course the specimens that he allowed to escape wouldn't last that much longer in comparison, as after a good few minutes, the slug man would track and hunt them down, tallying up his quarry according to the animals he counted as surviving the carnage. They'd have a preciously fleeting row of freedom in their final moments, he'd get to practice his hunting skills, it was a total win-win, as they say. Sure he got a good number of dirty looks and a tad worse come his way courtesy of the native population that witnessed his methods in action, but he took special exception to claims suggesting his plan of attack was sloppy. One of the especially rowdy hunters even had the nerve to call him a "garish, squishy-looking, two-bit sellsword". If the Grand Master had been inexplicably present to witness such disrespect, then Gastrod would see no other recourse but to slap the mouthy ingrate over the head with his own dismembered arm.

Sure it'd be a pain to grow back, but that just goes to show how seriously Gastrod views such insolence in the company of his master. Ultimately though, the namekian's hands were tied, given the lad's annoying lack of evil in his heart.

But that was then (and a pleasant, hypothetical daydream), and this is now. Gastrod had since levitated on his lonesome within eyeshot of the Scather, overlooking the smoking black pillars of the wreckages that also awaited their former owners. For now, he mostly occupied himself with munching on the juicy produce that some of the aforementioned natives had thrown his way. Picking a few sticky berries that had stuck to his shoulder pieces and lifting them up to his mouth, he pondered whether the peltings were a part of their complaints against him, or if they were actually expressions of customary gratitude, in which case - Who was he to judge? Food for thought.
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