POOHEAD189

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

Giving the majority of school funding to guns makes about as much sense as giving the most funding to football oh wait

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Neil was surprised to say the least when Junebug accepted his plan. Back when he was fighting the Valk war for the Ordo Sanctus on Fortus, he was usually seen as the guy who made stuff up on the fly if he ever made any plans at all. The Ordo Sanctus quickly learned this crack pilot was better to be unleashed on the enemy rather than controlled, or at the least used as a convenient distraction as they attempted to enact their own plans.

"Birds?" Zalli asked in confusion as Neil lead her from the room. He escorted her through the main corridor, past the engineering bay. His hand on the small of her back until he gave her a demonstration. "Yeah, birds. Like..." He placed the bottom of his two palms together and flapped his fingers to simulate a bird gliding around. He saw the realization dawn on her, and she nodded before Zalli asked the next question.

"Love?"

"O-ohkay. Let's talk about that some other time." He said hurriedly, pulling her forward. She gave a squeal of surprise that turned him on instantly, but he shoved those notions aside. Junebug would utterly kill him if he spent this entire time having fun instead of preparing. Plus he had almost as big of an urge piloting the Highlander again. Reluctantly, there'd be plenty of time to 'doing it like they do on the discovery channel' (an old terran saying) once they were in space.

"I have never had to be this restrained around someone who wanted to sleep with me." He muttured, and escorted her into his comfortably large (relatively) chambers, pulling up a chair for her to sit on. She tilted her head, and he said "sit." She nodded and did so, showing she at least understood that word. He pulled up a chair too and sat across from her. Even in the jumpsuit she had a voluptuous figure, her hips and thighs even more pronounced as she crossed her legs.

"Ok so-" he began, taking on the deeper voice of a teacher. "Do you...understand me right now?"

"I..." she began, squinting. He continued, pointing at her when he said 'you' as he repeated the statement, then he pointed at himself when he said 'me.' Her lips parted, and she nodded her head enthusiastically. "Oh good." He said. "Ok so, can 'you' say 'obey' in your language?"

"O...bay?"

"Yes."

"I...like this word. Obay" she said slowly, and Neil had the distinct impression she did not know what it meant, and it only felt aesthetically pleasing to the tongue. He could understand. When others weren't around he'd repeat a word he liked saying until it lost all meaning.

"Gods" he said, gesturing to the sky, and then he hopped up on his chair and pointed downward at the Xarconian steel floor, as he if he was giving stern judgement. "Obey!"

"..."

Within 10 minutes, he knew this was getting nowhere, and he went to find the REM system because she had a nap to take.

---

While the common word armistace did not mean anything to the tribesman, those that had survived the chaos of the previous day had decided to halt hostilities at the moment for their well being. Wetumpkah had indeed lived (with the loss of his right eye), as had one other Shaman known as Torlati. He was a bit younger than Wetumpkah, previously a warrior who had received a vision from the stars ten years ago, becoming the Shaman of his tribe.

The two had absorbed what was left of the other two tribes into their ranks, having made a small alliance mid battle to preserve their survival, and even now Wetumpkah spread vicious secrets into Torlati's ears within the central Ziggurat, telling him great treasures and even salvation would be had if they could spill the secrets of the sky from one of the starmen, or even take their sky chariot. Torlati was not so keen at first, for he revered the Starmen as Gods. But slowly, he began to contemplate Wetumpkah's plan...
@Penny

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

If it comes to anything concerning race or ethnicity, I have to say I do not know. Global Warming was a fact before the polarization of the country/world, but I did not delve into anthropology and I'd be a fool to think that there is no chance they do not only accept facts that adhere to their world view.

For example, I was talking to my friend about some very odd people who were complaining that the new game Kingdom Come: Deliverance doesn't have enough black representation when the game is set in early 15th century Bohemia, and the entire thing occurs within a 9 mile radius. As a historian I knew what they were arguing was, to put it bluntly, horseshit. But when I googled it as a curiosity, all I found were biased articles on both sides that brought little evidence, and I realize you can't even look up medieval demographics anymore without it having a political agenda.

Pretty much, unless I read an article that tells me there is/isn't a reason to think of ethnicity or race as a social construct that provides evidence and sources I can believe (or just takes some courses myself), I'll just give an honest "no idea." Either way, even if it wasn't a social construct that doesn't mean it would justify the mistreatment of others.

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

Oh hey another school shooting.

@Penny

Oh the new one's out?

WARHAMMER 40K: THE TARSON INCURSION

"The Dark Mechanicum." Herold said grimly, the scattered reports and gunfire over the comms confirming what he had feared. Tech Priests that have given their souls over to the Chaos Gods to explore ever deeper into their malevolent studies of mechanics, experimenting in ever more corrupt and debased ways. He had faced Orks, Men, and even an Eldar. But the Dark Mechanicum was something he had only heard of through reports.

It seemed it was not to be, for he felt a slender hand grab his collar and within moments, the physical reality he had come to know disappeared in the blink of an eye, and Addrianne's previous words ran through his head. "I will see to them. Arbites, I'll need you for this task!"

He believed it was a good thing his mind ran them through once more for him to recall, because it was the one semblance of time and logic he would experience in the brief second he was suddenly emerged into what must have been the warp. Even though the psyker was taller, Herold was bigger in terms of bulk and if he was capable he would have torn his collar away from her. But it seemed this was all for the benefit of the group, for when reality set back in he found himself looking down at a mob of Orkoids that were currently under fire from a turret, and what looked to be loyalist tech priests under attack.

"Arbites! The greenskin! Fire already! Fire!"

He cast her a black look, fully realizing he could have lost his sanity going through the warp, particularly without warning. But it turns out he was safe for now, so he grabbed at the combat shotgun at his side and whipped it forward within the blink of an eye. With well trained aim, he fired into the mass of green below, his slugs tearing through unarmored and surprised Orkoids with a satisfying ease. The mekboy's shield pinged and lit up as it felt bullet impacts, but held strong.

For now.

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

"Well I mean, they're sa-" he began, before he saw Quetzalli looking at him curiously. His 'savages' veered course "-aaaaaaaadly without our weaponry. We have a small armory, right? We can plant mines, they'd probably run away in fear of..." He squinted, and then looked to Quetzalli. He pointed at her and nodded. "We can distract them. Not by sacrificing any of us, but what if we proved we were gods?"

Neil was thinking on his feet. "Quetzalli can show one of us the way back, and when we get back we rig one of the ziggurats with as much explosives as we have. Even if we can't topple one we can wreck it. We announce we're to be obeyed. If they don't listen, then we simply press the button and send on of their temples crumbling. I can do it." He nodded to himself as he spoke. "Taya, you might not be as familiar an engineer as I am, but you can at least handle thrusters. Junebug can guard the ship after she and I rig the charges, and I can head in with Quetzalli and play the part."

"I calculate that has a 21.948% chance of succeeding sir."

Neil blinked and looked up. "Lonney, what are you doing awake?"

"We wanted to see if he still worked." Taya said with a guilty smile. Neil continued with "Zalli can teach me at least a phrase in the language. Enough to shout I am to be obeyed or something."

"I teech, yes." Zalli said, her voice heavily accented yet still sultry enough to have him side eyeing her yet again.
@Penny

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Sevendust blared in Neil's ears as he gave the engine a tuneup, trying to reroute every spare inch of power to the thing he could while cleaning out useless functions to get better output. His goggles were illuminated by the torch of his multi-tool as he worked, a grin on his face. He'd been yearning to work on something mechanical since they'd landed on this primitive world. Oh, he had attempted to rest, but he was at the point where he was so tired sleep wouldn't come, so he decided to make the most of it. While the ladies had gotten somewhat settled in, Neil inhaled a muffin replacement and delved into work.

Luckily it was just his muscles that were tired more than his nerves or eyes, and he could tank through that no problem. Time didn't seem a tangible thing until he felt more than heard Sayeeda's voice over the comm. He blinked, taking the eartube out of his ear and the goggles off his eyes to make sure. Once she repeated the order, he set his tools down and was eager to tell her the theoretical good news. He grabbed the door handled and swung out into the hall, before literally bounding into the War room, half excited to tell her, and he could smell the food from the hall. He appeared in the doorway suddenly.

"Hey..." he began, and for the first time he realized that he was the only male aboard the ship with the possible exception of Lonney when he had the right accent. Junebug sat straight and confident, exotic and strong. Taya waved and smiled. Quetzalli was elated that he showed up. They all looked at him, and he gave a smile. "So, what is up?"

"Hi-lo." Zalli said, giving him a broad smile that spoke volumes. Neil blinked, almost not recognizing her because she wore actual clothes. He pointed at her while he looked to Junebug. "Did she take a nap?" He asked with a smirk, and once his suspicions were confirmed he gave a laugh. "Well, I am glad to have you aboard." He said to her, reaching out to kiss her hand. Her smile grew more pleased, and Neil vaulted over the back of his chair and plopped down, fakon already in his mouth before he realized what he was doing.

"Scho fa good newv iv." He began, mouth full. Taya exhaled in a small chuckle, which brought him back to reality. He downed some water and continued. "The good news is, we have a small bit of power. Only...a fraction of what we usually would have in the engine. One of the pylons didn't use all of its juice, and I took out some secondary systems. So if we can somehow find a R.I.P. tide around the planet, I believe we can get out of here...assuming we know what galaxy we're in."
@Penny

Warhammer Fantasy: The Guild of Esteemed Sellswords - An adventure in the Warhammer Fantasy world!

"Quit whining ye dolt," the Longbeard said. The woman paid him little heed, though her scream at the retort turned into a pitiful whimper. Drimbold wondered how weak the manling folk were if they had never seen severed Grobi heads. Even Dwarf women would not blanch at such a sight, instead they would praise Valya and Grungni that there were three less Goblins tainting the world. The image of his wife Volga caused his mood to sour even more, and he continued on despite the stares he received from the still dripping heads that hung from his back.

Once he was paid the bounties for the slain Goblins (with typical shoddy manling coins to boot!), he decided he needed a place to find some beer or ale. Mead even, if there wasn't either of the other two to be found in this hamlet of a town. Stomping through the dirt streets, the armored elder was probably the most heavily armed person in town by the looks of these farmers and backwater merchants. The mercenary or two he saw seemed more like hired killers than actual soldiers.

He found the Limping Nag after asking a particularly fat man where the tavern was, and soon the inhabitants of the establishment felt a cool breeze waft and the sound of the door being shoved open. It revealed a Dwarf clad in Gromril, with an aged, grim visage and scarred skin where he wasn't covered in cloth or mail. His greying beard almost brushed the floor, and would have if it weren't for the bronze ringlets keeping it tied.

He smelled the air, getting a whiff of piss poor ale and sweaty manlings. However, there was a flowery stench he could not ignore. "I smell Elgi." He muttered, his eyes scanning the room until they fell upon Galadred. His jaw involuntarily clenched, only for him to stop short. If he caused a brawl here, they wouldn't serve him ale, piss poor though it be. With a few choice words of Khazalid, he made his way over to the bar.

"Ale. Keep it coming."