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5 yrs ago
Current well...I guess I'm back.
6 yrs ago
In the past hour I have refreshed the guild 80 times
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7 yrs ago
Really busy so replies might be slow. Sorry
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Alright, here he is.

@AkayaofthemoonCool, I have some questions about this character. Would it be easier to put those questions in here, or pm to the gm? Thx for the help!
Hi, I was wondering if you guys are still open to people joining. I am thinking of making something akin to a speedster/pure melee fighter. Also my favorite Marvel hero/character is Deadpool.
𝚅𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝙰𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙻𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝙰𝚕𝚌𝚢𝚘𝚛𝚛

"Well captain, I think they call this place Keldabe, last time I checked. Refugee district, maybe. You want specifics, best ask my friend Ms. O’Royal here. She'll know better than me."

Lorn felt a flare of anger as the tall sheriff called him captain, but quickly subdued any sign of that. It would do him little good to treat his would-be guides like those he has command over. At this point Lorn would put up with quite a bit more than normal if it meant he would no longer be lost in this unfamiliar city. He didn’t know how long he could be gone before his babysitters would notice and report it to high command. At this rate he might be banished to a desk job if he kept upsetting the admiralty.

His eyes were drawn to the hand resting on the cowboy’s blaster and felt it would probably be best to diffuse the situation somewhat. Gunned down in the street by a twitchy trigger finger was not the way Lorn planned to go out. Lorn stretched his hands out to his side in the form of a simple shrug that also happened to reveal he carried no weapons beneath the coat.

“I would sure hope I was still in Keldabe, or else I would have a lot more to worry about than being late to a diplomat’s dinner party.” Lorn let out a very muted chuckle before continuing. “I rode in the Empress’ escort, so I have had little chance to get a bearing on the city. I stepped out for some air and at some point every stall began to blend together.”

Lorn could sense some steeliness in the tall man’s eyes, but not outright hostility. At least this told Lorn the man wasn’t CIS sympathizer, because then he probably would have already been shot. The Vice Admiral turned to look at the previously mentioned friend of the cowboy and reached out a gloved hand.

“A pleasure to meet you. I am Lorn Alcyorr, an attaché to the Empress while here on Mandalore. Are you able to save me from my predicament?”

𝚅𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝙰𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙻𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝙰𝚕𝚌𝚢𝚘𝚛𝚛

10 days prior to arrival on Mandalore

Sirens sounded and lights flashed throughout the corridors of the Aurora, a Venator 1 warship currently traveling through hyperspace. Platoons of stormtroopers were amassing in the ventral hangar near a fleet of transport ships. Around them Tie Fighters are finishing their final checks before launch.

“All hands to battlestations. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill.”

Young deckhands and engineers alike sprinted throughout the maze like passageways of the capital ship, accomplishing some last minute tasks. In the command center one figure stood unmoving throughout the chaos. Lorn was staring deadpan at the hologram of Admiral Kalatin, commander of the 7th fleet, who was pacing dramatically in and out of the projector.

“I requested reinforcements and they send a lone Venator that was in the middle of repairs! I don’t care how great your reputation is, I need more than one ship.”

The 7th fleet had recently been caught in the midst of a resupply by a considerably larger separatist force that was probing the Empire’s borders. Being so far out into the frontier, the only nearby force had been Lorn’s ship that had been under repair a few systems over. While other ships would get here eventually, they would only get here in time to search the wreckage for survivors.

“I understand your concern Admiral, but as for now I am all you have. If you follow my instructions I may be all you need. Now I will ask again, have you mo-“

“Yes I have moved my Interdictor where you have requested, even if you refuse to explain why.” Kalatin was visibly irritated with the young Rear Admiral, even if he didn’t come out and say it.

Lorn knew while the Admiral was competent, too many questions would be asked if he took the time to explain his plan. Kalatin would likely become unnerved by all the unknown factors, and Lorn only needed the Admiral to play his part. “All in due time Admiral, maybe over some drinks after this battle. I have some last minute preparations, so I will speak to you next after our victory.”

The Admiral took a second to stop pacing and stare down at Lorn for a moment before giving a curt nod. “May our deaths please the Emperor.” The transmission was cut abruptly leaving Lorn looking up at a now empty space. Hidden by the chaos around him Lorn clenched his fists tightly and let a vicious scowl flash across his face momentarily before being replaced by his typical uncaring glare.

The doors to the bridge slid open as Lorn strode through them to a very similar, but much more muted kind of chaos. His officers were keeping a facade of calm up knowing that their commander despised panic. Even though they tried to hide it, Lorn could feel the unease in the air that existed before every battle. While looking over the bridge Lorn noticed a small clump of officers standing around a nav computer that was running a sequence of calculations. Lorn slowly approached unnoticed and listened to the whispers amongst his officers.

“Well it looks correct.” “But if it isn’t we all die.” “And if we just show up without a plan we all die that way as well.” “I’m just saying…”

The officers trailed off as they one by one noticed their commanding officer standing above them on the elevated command platform of the bridge. Lorns eyes showed nothing as he looked over the assembled crew before settling on the one sitting at the computer. “Lieutenant Hake, are your calculations complete?”

The young woman shot out of her chair and threw up a hasty salute. “Yes sir!”

Lorn just stood there silently with his arms crossed waiting for her to continue as confusion crossed her face. After a moment Lt. Hake seemed to realize he was waiting for her to tell him the result. “Everything should work in theory, but it is still only the-“

“Then we will trust your calculations Lieutenant. Everyone, prepare to enter the system!” Lorn knew better than to let the young Lieutenant doubt themselves, they were talented but lacked confidence.

The bridge became completely silent as the officers returned to their stations and stared out the viewport at the flashing lights of hyperspace fly by. Lorn made his way to the chair stationed in the very middle of the bridge and leaned against the side of it. The chair was installed to let him rest when his condition became too severe, but the adrenaline pumping right now prevented Lorn from being able to sit. As a countdown began to sound out on the intercom, Lorn could feel a growing anticipation beginning to build from deep within. A wolfish grin covered his face and he couldn’t help but lean forward slightly.

“5…4…3…2…1”

As the countdown ended the ship suddenly lurched and the lights of hyperspace quickly shifted into the green and red lights of turbo laser batteries. The Aurora had managed to come out of hyperspace right in the middle of the battle due to both the CIS interdictor and the Imperial Interdictor allowing for incredibly precise exit coordinates. Lorn quickly tried to get his bearing of the battle before he was nearly knocked off his feet as The Aurora jerked violently to the right along with the screech of metal being torn. The starboard wing of the capital ship was scraping along the edge of a Providence class dreadnought that Lorn quickly recognized as the enemy’s flagship.

“Divert power to starboard guns and fire everything!” There was a second of silence before the Venator’s guns released a withering hail of laser fire. The Providence seemed to be caught completely off guard and was only firing back with an assortment of smaller guns as the Aurora unloaded its full might into the enemy flagship. Lorn watched on as his grin grew even bigger and he felt a surge of confidence flow through him, he won.


4 days prior to arrival on Mandalore

“...you will receive new orders as the 7th fleet repairs and reorganizes in preparation for you taking command. Congratulations on your promotion Vice Admiral and glory to the Empire.”

The hologram of Wildan Braste, the Minister of Defense, faded out in front of Lorn’s kneeling form. The newly promoted Vice Admiral stayed kneeling for a moment with his coat draped over him with a stony look on his face. He had taken another step in his ravenous ambition, but all it did was make him hungrier for more. It was as if he was trying to reach an apple hanging from a tall tree, but for every branch he climbed the fruit got even further away. At this point he feels as if he will reach the top of this tree before he can sate his hunger.

Slowly Lorn rose from his kneeling position, with his cloak hiding just how difficult the act was for him. He took a pause before turning around to face the hangar before him. Around 3,000 of the personnel stationed on the Aurora stood rank and file throughout the ship’s ventral hangar. This ceremony was also being projected for the rest of the 7th fleet which was now inhabiting one of the empire's secret shipyards in the midst of heavy repairs.

“To those aboard the Aurora who have served me faithfully, or those of the 7th fleet who will come to know me soon, I owe this promotion to you. If it was not for your heroism in the Battle of Maltha Obex, the separatists would have been able to once again push on Vinsoth. The citizens of the Empire sleep safe tonight because they know that they are protected by heroes such as yourselves.”

Lorn took a moment to let the silence fill the air before he continued.

“If it was not for us this galaxy would have long fallen to ruin at the hands of separatist dogs. We are the only ones who carry on the will of the republic and fight to save this galaxy!”

SLAM, a loud sound rings out as Lorn’s stormtrooper contingent slammed their fist against their plasteel armor.

“It is on us to free this galaxy from Grievous and his bloody rampage!”

SLAM

“To liberate the people of the core from his Alsakani puppets!”

SLAM

“To stand against Corellian corruption and perversion of the ideals of our once great republic.”

SLAM

“And to denounce Mandalorian cowardice, and their sham truce!”

SLAM

“We stand alone as the one true inheritors of the republic! The one true liberators of the galaxy! The one true Empire!”

SLAM SLAM SLAM

“And I promise only one thing to those who oppose our rightful place in this galaxy. DEATH!”

The once organized pounding of the stormtroopers devolved into a roar as Lorn held up his fist and the rest of the crowd erupted into applause. A chant slowly began to grow to fill the hangar and could be heard echoing throughout the shipyard below them.

“DEATH DEATH DEATH DEATH”


Arrival on Mandalore

It didn’t matter how warm it was out in the market, Lorn still had his large coat wrapped around his shoulder to try and prevent the cold in his bones from spreading. The joy and merriment of the celebration was lost on the Vice Admiral stuck playing babysitter to the young New Imperials. It had been pitched to Lorn as a vacation by his father, but Lorn knew he was on timeout for his recent speech. While it likely didn’t get back to the other powers in the galaxy, his superiors did not like the tone of his voice about some of their supposed allies. So here he was, advisor to the Empress and mentor to the New Imperials during this trip.

Even though his mood may not have been the most celebratory, his presence was actually helping the Mandalorians in one strange way. Wherever the sulking officer walked, the Imperials in the area, New or otherwise, seemed to shape up for the time he was there. Women were suddenly free from drunken flirting, and bar tabs were mysteriously paid in full. Whether trying to avoid his wrath or gain his favor, his reputation amongst the Imperials created a bubble of safety for the other partiers.

Lorn was lost in thought while eating mystery meat from a stall vendor who had probably up-charged the Imperial Vice Admiral. He had found the Mandalore to be incredibly disappointing and nothing more than a common brute. Any armored idiot can threaten an unarmed mother inside his own palace. A part of Lorn had hoped to see something redeeming in the man who had united the Mandalorians and Republic, but he was unsurprised to be proven right. That the large warrior was just some coward hiding from the CIS in a layer of beskar. Either he was too weak to take the fight to the separatists, or he lacked the conviction. Lorn couldn’t decide which he found more disgusting.

Lorn finally finished his pondering with the quick realization he was completely lost. Looking around all he could see was more stalls and partiers with no end in sight. Lorn silently stood in place and looked for any noticeable landmark before he heard a door nearby him open. An incredibly tall man and blonde woman with a massive book stepped outside of a tavern that seemed to be exploding into a fight. Lorn’s eyes were drawn to the badge pinned onto the incredibly tall man’s shirt.

“He should at least know where he is.”

Lorn barely took a step to follow him before some of the fighting spilled out of the door and landed at his feet. A Young Imperial was on top of some ruffian mid, about to take another swing when the back of his hand hit the Admiral. The drunk youth looked back at Lorn prepared to let loose a string of expletives before he realized who he was looking at. The New Imperials mouth began to move, but no sound came out as he staggered to his feet. He stared mouth agape before taking off down the street at top speed, almost barreling into multiple bystanders. Lorn cocked his head and watched the idiot flee in complete silence before turning back towards the open door to the bar to see another New Imperial staring back at him. This Imperial acts faster than her friend, but in an even more extreme manner. She draws her blaster pistol and shoots the controls to the door, locking Lorn outside.

For a moment Lorn couldn’t even comprehend what he had just witnessed, as he sat there utterly dumbfounded. He couldn’t help but let out a long sigh as his palm rested against his forehead. What a great example the New Imperials were showing to the rest of the galaxy. Moving past his extreme disappointment, Lorn caught up with the pair ahead of him and called out.

“Excuse me, do either of you happen to know where we are?”


I'm interested in this as well.
Dionysus, God of Festivities


Heavy drops of rain slammed against window panes behind Dio as he stared into the eyes of the man in front of him. The massive bear of a human was obviously in pain due to bullet holes that riddled its frame, and could barely stay standing. Dio looked down at the sight of his smoking gun before tossing it aside and spreading his arms in triumph.

“I’m sorry Mr. Thomas, but today just isn’t your day.”

The large figure tried to speak but couldn’t even get more than a mumble out before falling to his knees in defeat. The victorious god confidently strode over to his defeated foe and bent down to taunt his enemy.

“Can you repeat that, the sound of winning made it too hard to hear your pathetic last words?”

“I said, it isn’t your day either.”

With a scream, the injured man thrust his hidden dagger into the stomach of Dionysus and finally collapsed to the floor dead. The wounded god now stood there staring down at the blade handle sticking out of him and seemed to show no expression. Opening his mouth, he hesitated, unable to even get a single word out before falling backward like a stiff plank.

Nothing but the sound of the raindrops could be heard in the now lifeless room before a single voice cut through the silence.

“And that’s a wrap! Everyone give Dio a hand for finishing his scenes.”

The crew cheered as the two actors stood up from the ground and waved back toward the crew. Dio’s co-star turned towards the young god and also began to clap as well. Laughing Dionysus gave a few bows before everyone quieted down in anticipation. Clearing his throat Dio rubbed his cold hands together and smiled at all the faces staring back at him.

“I don’t have much time, so I just want to thank everyone here for being great to me. I know I am not the easiest to deal with, but you are all family to me now. I mean it, if any of you ever have a problem you can come to me. Except you Jessica, we all know you stole the last sandwich from the craft table yesterday.”

Dio wrapped his arm around his fellow actor's shoulders and shook him.

“Make sure you all take care of Jordan here, we all know how much he likes to do his stunts.”

There was a light chuckle while Dio began to walk off the set and towards the exit of the studio. Stepping out into the LA moonlight Dio hopped into a waiting SUV and pulled his phone out of the central cupholder. He scrolled through Instagram for a moment before leaning back and closing his eyes. Thinking of the celebration tomorrow the god could almost feel his stomach turn at the thought of it. He loved his family of course, but Hera hosting ruined most of the event for him. It wasn’t even the fact that she had incinerated Dio’s mother, it was that she is just such a boring choice to host a party. Like, how had he not gotten this job, he is literally the god of festivities? Getting furious just thinking about it Dionysus reached forward and pulled a cigarette out from the other cup holder and lit it.

As the car sped down the highway Dionysus had a brilliant idea and posted a random picture of himself with the caption, Meeting some family in Seattle this weekend, will prob do a fan meet up. Grinning to himself Dio slumped back in his seat and spent the rest of the ride scrolling through funny cat videos.

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Dio had been accosted by fans waiting in the airport thanks to his post the previous night and had been laughing the entire time he was signing autographs. Grinning wildly Dio hopped into the back of a new SUV that had been waiting for him and blew a kiss goodbye to his new mob. As the airport disappeared behind him Dio couldn’t help but think he could have some good fun with this. A leaked location here or there and he could swarm anyone he wanted at any time. He really was the smartest Olympian, wasn’t he? Dio was so distracted with congratulating himself that he hadn’t noticed his bodyguard telling him that they had arrived.

With an energetic hop, Dio jumped out of the car and surveyed the chosen site of festivity that the queen had chosen. Disappointment broke Dio’s mood almost immediately upon realizing it was another country club. It had been a country club for the last half a century. Well if you had to credit Hera with one thing, it was consistency.

“By Zeus I hate consistency.”

Dio only made it a few steps before seeing something extremely strange through a window. The person in the window looked somewhat like him but was in the weirdest outfit. The outfit looked like some weird victorian cosplay that someone put a bit too much money into. Dio almost laughed at the person before coming to the harshest of realizations. He was the idiot who looked like his mother named him after her favorite local oil baron. Looking down Dio recognized his costume from the shoot he had been at the night before flying up. He had never changed his clothes and had been too focused on daydreaming about his brilliant plan to notice this. After a period of going through the five stages of grief, Dio shrugged and accepted his fate. Pressing onwards the Olympian ignored the strange stares from the staff and strode as confidently as he could manage into the conference room. Looking around the ballroom Dio saw some friendly faces and one very confusing sight.

“Why are we eating tiny sandwiches for breakfast?”
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