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Metronome Member
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- Last Seen: 5 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Metronome
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 2871 (0.63 / day)
- VMs: 2
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- Metronome 12 yrs ago
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Most Recent Posts
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Journalist role needed filled for ooky spooky adventure! 👻
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8 yrs ago
Forum: 1x1 Interest Checks
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Journalist role needed filled for ooky spooky adventure! 👻
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8 yrs ago
Forum: 1x1 Interest Checks
Bump :)
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Journalist role needed filled for ooky spooky adventure! 👻
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8 yrs ago
Forum: 1x1 Interest Checks
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Do you have any ideas for the mercxsoldier rp?
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Looking for Ideas (Murder Mysteries | Horrors | Originals ) - Can do High Commitment
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9 yrs ago
Forum: 1x1 Interest Checks
Would you be interested in this? roleplayerguild.com/topics/167115-jou…
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Journalist role needed filled for ooky spooky adventure! 👻
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9 yrs ago
Forum: 1x1 Interest Checks
Bump
Can I make a professor?
Depends on the plot.
Rapid gunfire sounded all around him. He was squatted in the mud, rain pouring down over him. The stink of five unwashed young men mixed with the smell of old cow shit as they huddled behind an old cattle truck. His breathes rattled out of his chest, his gun held close to him. It's cold metal was a comfort for him. He held it under his coat to keep it dry; the only false sense of safety he could find in this scene. His platoon had been mowed down. Bodies laid all around the village. Military soldiers were moving in. He was pretty sure he was going to die.
Khari startled awake. He didn't even remember falling asleep. The cold feeling his dream left over him slowly faded into the back of his mind as he sat up. There was someone outside his kennel, a whitecoat, staring at a clipboard and writing. Khari's dark eyes glared evenly at him for a while, waiting for the doctor to walk away. But he didn't.
"Buckle up kid, you'll be going on a ride soon." The man finally spoke, not looking up from his clipboard.
"A ride?" Khari shifted to sit with his legs crossed. "To where?"
"Out of my hands, hopefully. You flunked out of Eraser school, so you're not my department anymore. That's a shame too, you could have been real useful."
"I won't be your fodder for war," Khari growled.
"Fodder. That's a new one; you've been reading those damn books again, huh?"
"Why would you give me books you don't intend for me to read?"
"Cooperation is a valuable thing around here, kid."
The doctor took a page off his clipboard and stuck it on the kennel, marking it to be looked over by the Director whenever she made her rounds through. The whitecoat then turned and walked away briskly, leaving Khari to sit and ponder uncertainly about what this would mean for him. If he was transferred, would he still be able to get his books?
Khari startled awake. He didn't even remember falling asleep. The cold feeling his dream left over him slowly faded into the back of his mind as he sat up. There was someone outside his kennel, a whitecoat, staring at a clipboard and writing. Khari's dark eyes glared evenly at him for a while, waiting for the doctor to walk away. But he didn't.
"Buckle up kid, you'll be going on a ride soon." The man finally spoke, not looking up from his clipboard.
"A ride?" Khari shifted to sit with his legs crossed. "To where?"
"Out of my hands, hopefully. You flunked out of Eraser school, so you're not my department anymore. That's a shame too, you could have been real useful."
"I won't be your fodder for war," Khari growled.
"Fodder. That's a new one; you've been reading those damn books again, huh?"
"Why would you give me books you don't intend for me to read?"
"Cooperation is a valuable thing around here, kid."
The doctor took a page off his clipboard and stuck it on the kennel, marking it to be looked over by the Director whenever she made her rounds through. The whitecoat then turned and walked away briskly, leaving Khari to sit and ponder uncertainly about what this would mean for him. If he was transferred, would he still be able to get his books?
As he ran, the steady beeping and whirring of machines seemed to fade behind him. He focused on his breathing, keeping an even pace, and occasionally wiping the sweat from his eyes. Khari didn't mind the stress tests on the tread mill. It gave him an opportunity to get out of his kennel for a while and stretch his legs. He tried to ignore the whitecoats standing around, watching him. He tried to imagine that he was running far, far away from here.
Two hours at a hard run. That had to be a record or something, right? He didn't really keep track. Khari was huffing and puffing as he was led to the showers to wash himself off. Once he was clean and dressed in fresh scrubs, he was lead back to kennel and put away like a plaything, to be used later. The young man flopped down on his bare mattress bed and stretched his wings out a bit. They got cramps if he left them folded for too long.
Two hours at a hard run. That had to be a record or something, right? He didn't really keep track. Khari was huffing and puffing as he was led to the showers to wash himself off. Once he was clean and dressed in fresh scrubs, he was lead back to kennel and put away like a plaything, to be used later. The young man flopped down on his bare mattress bed and stretched his wings out a bit. They got cramps if he left them folded for too long.
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