Avatar of Sarpedon
  • Last Seen: 8 yrs ago
  • Old Guild Username: Sarpedon
  • Joined: 12 yrs ago
  • Posts: 1097 (0.24 / day)
  • VMs: 2
  • Username history
    1. Sarpedon 12 yrs ago

Status

Recent Statuses

10 yrs ago
Current I'M BACK! Hit me up!
10 yrs ago
Leaving 20 September until 30 October. Going to be a shitty time in the field. Probably going to be a week after that before I even think about writing again.
1 like
10 yrs ago
Going on exercise as of 19 September. Not sure if I am going for 3 or 6 weeks...
10 yrs ago
Vacation time! Will try to keep posting, but can't guarantee anything, please be patient.
2 likes
10 yrs ago
RIP in peace, Bauble. We barely knew ye...
1 like

Bio

ATTENTION:
Course is over! Whoop! Whoop!
I have no fucking clue what the fuck is going on.
Posting speed and availability is subject to change without notice, and I won't have internet when my vacation ends, which is tomorrow...
Thank you, have a nice day!

Most Recent Posts

Is that better?
whoops, I'll change that. Why would no bra hurt after a while, does she got tig ol' biddies? Mmm... tig ol' biddies... :P

I will fix that asap, sorry. wasn't paying attention.

A woobie is the American Army issued poncho liner. The really good ones are from back in the day, either the ones made from parachute silk, or the ones still in woodland camo, but the newer ones are still good. It's basically a blankie for grown men who kill people for a living. It's a glorious beacon of warmth and comfort in a world of shit. It's ridiculously comfortable, and while it's meant to be used under a poncho, it's just as good as a sleeping bag, or as a blanket, or whatever. The Canadian issue version isn't quite as nice. Well, the old ones aren't. The new ones are supposed to be really nice, actually, and they are CADPAT which is nicer than OD green...

Then I realize I just explained it without describing it physically. This gangsta ass fuck got two woobies, but I'm pretty sure the one he's laying on is the better one, unless the one he's wrapped in is parachute silk. I can't really tell to be honest. I don't even have one, and I'm pissed. If they give me one, I'm going to "lose it in the field" and it will be mine forever.
The contractor wasn't entirely surprised when the woman threatened him with more death, should he give away her location. Lucky for her, no one was going to know where she lived. And then she had the nerve to tell him how to live his life, and the man refused to dignify her unhelpful advice with a response. She claimed he didn't take good enough care of his arm. He claimed an arm shouldn't need caring. His other arm worked fine, why shouldn't this one? He didn't try that argument on her, though, and instead focused on convincing the vampire to join his cause. She had a fair number of demands, just to get her out of her sanctuary, but it seemed the scientists on the other end of the line didn't care. They had research to conduct, and were more than happy to add a few variables if it meant proper data.

The man grinned when they called him an operative, though, and nodded when his new friend finally agreed not to try and kill him. "Did you here that? I'm an operative." he joked, tapping a couple of buttons on his radio and clipping the handset back to his lapel as the antenna behind him disappeared again. "You know, you shouldn't carry your gun like that, eh? I watched one guy blow his whole ass off doing that. He got a little too eager and double-tapped himself while he was trying to shoot at me... It was kind of hilarious, but it's a terrible way to carry a gun if you're on my team." he offered. "Plus, if you fall and land on your back, it could fuck up your spine..." he shrugged, not one to judge terribly harshly.

"You do you." he assured the woman, finally stepping into her world. "You need time to get ready to go? It's probably a week or so to our destination, so we've got some travelling to do. Probably wanna bring a woobie, if you have one... You probably want to get dressed too..." He chuckled a little when he realized that she wasn't exactly prepared for a wilderness excursion. "We can stop in town, if you need adventuring supplies..." he added, offering more shrugs as if that would help, somehow. Then the contractor realized he hadn't introduced himself, and he quickly corrected that, offering her a hand to shake. "My name's Kevin, by the way." he managed a smile as he said it. "My callsign, like you heard, is Karma, if you need me over the radio." then, as he leaned forward to shake her hand, he noticed the woman's rather generous endowment. He couldn't believe he'd missed it before, but there was nothing else to focus on now. He couldn't help but start wondering what classified as a wrong move. Kevin was looking forward to how exciting this was going to be...
Works for me!
Sorry...
Maybe she's worked with GoldGate before, and after reading his hat, asks if he knows someone, who he successfully describes, convincing her he can't be all bad? Maybe more people who are actually unpleasant show up and he helps defeat them? Maybe she tells him to fornicate with his headdress and goes off to google him? He'd be willing to pinky swear! I got nothing, I dunno what to tell you, sorry...
When he was offered a smoke, the man's eyes seemed to gleam, his entire focus on the freshly lit cancer stick being poked at him. He was warned that it was the only one he would be getting, but that didn't stop him from apparently trying to smoke the whole thing in a single drag. He made a commendable effort to that effect, and seemed to relax a great deal as he exhaled heavily. Savouring the rest of his cigarette, he considered what the woman had to say. She was threatening him now. That was practically a waste of a perfectly good cigarette, from where she was standing, but he supposed she was probably just hoping he would have proof.

"You want to talk to them yourself?" he offered, raising an eyebrow as he spoke. "Let me finish this, and I'll get someone on the line for you." he added, gesturing with the remainder of his smoke. He sucked back the last of it in nearly record time, and only stopped when there was nothing but filter left. At that point he flicked it to the ground and stomped it out casually, before finally working on proving to his potential friend and business partner that his offer was real. "Sorry, give me a moment. Don't freak out." he warned, before he used his human arm to grab his cybernetic arm by the wrist. A careful twist, and his robotic hand spun in a horrifically unnatural way, unlocking a latch in his upper arm. Another twist had the whole arm rotating in its mounting just above his elbow. When the interrupted threads finally let go, he swung the thing around until the elbow unlocked again. "Fucking piece of shit." he growled. Reinstalling the limb was a much quicker process than removing it, and soon enough he could manipulate his radio once more.

A press of a button, and the antenna, normally hidden behind him, popped up. Then he removed the handset from his lapel and keyed the push-to-talk switch. "Blue sky, this is Karma. Message, over." his voice changed when he spoke into the radio, it became smoother, calmer, as if the thing had some kind of effect on him. The reply sounded much the same.

"Karma, this is Blue Sky. Send, over."

"Karma. Get me off the net, give me a cell tower, over." he demanded coolly.

"Blue Sky. Roger, out." came the voice across the airwaves, and a moment later the handset started beeping at him.

"Here." he thrust the radio at the woman, remembering too-late that there was bullet-proof glass between them. "It's still push-to-talk. They should be able to clear up any doubts, though." he figured she could deal with the fact that there was a barrier between them, and he would wait patiently while she did. The beeping stopped before anyone could accomplish anything meaningful, though, so the contractor interrupted the man on the other side of the line when he started asking if there was anyone listening. "Hang on. We're figuring some shit out." he offered, radio protocols and his suddenly smooth demeanour gone once again. He just had to hope this would be enough to get this woman to trust him...
Oh, I should do that too...
The man had almost finished stalking toward the door when a woman appeared on the other side of it, cigarette in hand. Instead of turning around, he was forced to fight the urge to ask for one. He reminded himself he was trying to quit, just in time for her to tell him he had a ten percent chance he'd get out of here alive. That was only because she thought he was human. It actually meant he had a ninety percent chance that the alarm that had just gone off was a good thing. "I'll take those odds." he agreed, smirking a little when the woman suggested she was going to eat him if he didn't convince her. "I'm a freelance contractor. I specialize in the procurement of rare and speciality items." he started off, before wincing as he caught a whiff of the cigarette in the woman's hand.

"Can I have one of those?" he tried to avoid twitching too much as he hoped for a little generosity. He had more success not knife-handing the cigarette, but wasn't too concerned about that. Then he carried on, mostly as if he'd never been interrupted. "Obviously you're not an item, but I've been promised a great deal of money if I can find unique mutations of the vampire plague. You're not a psycho, which means whatever strain of the plague you've got is different. The eggheads said they just want a blood sample from a live specimen, and an opportunity to observe said specimen for like twenty-four hours. I'd be willing to split that money with you fifty-fifty. Plus, you can eat whoever we kill on the way, and you can have first pick of any loot we come across." he figured that had to sound like a decent deal. He didn't think they'd come across anything significant in the way of loot, so he wasn't too concerned in that regard, and half of the money was still better than no money. And he really didn't like the idea of eating people, so it seemed like a pretty good deal to him. He supposed it was up to this woman, though, to see what she thought. The real question, though, was whether or not she was going to share those smokes of hers before he lost his mind and the deal became moot...
He'll be glad to hear that.
© 2007-2026
BBCode Cheatsheet