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Literary Hatchetman

STATUS: Malfunctioning Space Toilet (favorite death post in RPG) : roleplayerguild.com/posts/4… 8 yrs ago
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8 yrs ago
Current Malfunctioning Space Toilet (favorite death post in RPG) : roleplayerguild.com/posts/4…
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10 yrs ago
Example of a "Character Flaw": roleplayerguild.com/posts/32..
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Bio





"Character Flaw"

Keystone's Daydream

Checking for Mental Intrusion

The Power Of Pain Compels You

The Greater Good

Burial & Origin of James Mandingo Grady



Most Recent Posts

In 🦄 After Miranda - A Firefly Rp - Season 1 (Completed) → 9 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
William Harper
Location: Newhope - Lady Luck


The conversation seemed to turn almost in its entirety to the naive, stuttering Doctor of Engineering that had joined them at the table just before Harper and Daphne's quiet entrance. Harper refrained from direct comment, but he did lend a portion of his attention to the manner in which the man spoke. Through the choppy, oft-repeated syllables, he could swear that there was something familiar about it. He just could not immediately place why. Whatever the reason, this guy had a near suicidal ability to draw attention to himself. So long as it wasn't on him, even by association, Harper was fine with that.

He did crack an honest smile at Anisa's comment about joyriding. It was true, he would have greatly preferred to remain at the helm of the new ship, skipping across the atmosphere and gunning the craft through minor obstacles of topography. It was the freest he had felt in a long time, and the reason he felt the need to extend his thanks earlier. He locked eyes with Anisa momentarily, glanced around the table to those present, and nonverbally agreed with her assessment with the barest nod of his head.

At that time, the menus arrived. A stack was unceremoniously placed on the table, but the waitress was attentive enough to hand one to Harper personally. He handed his over to Daphne and procured another for himself, opened it, and gave it a cursory once-over to determine what he felt he might stomach in a place such as this. The establishment had the feel of a "one stop spacefarer's watering hole" to him, so while he expected that any food sold here would be palatable, it would also conform to certain basic expectations. While giving Daphne ample time to peruse the menu for herself, he leaned over to Anisa and mentioned discreetly, "If I may observe, Ma'am? Your ability to toss liquor is respectable. Seeing as we are in mixed company, I hope you will not mind if I get you something to blunt the edge a bit. They have Baozi1 here." It was a little working class, but it was almost universally accepted and remained one of Harper's nondescript favorites, especially back in his younger drinking days.

Thinking about his younger days back home, Harper decided to join the conversation concerning the overly nervous engineer sitting next to the more talkative woman. The way he spoke, when he wasn't stumbling over his words. He did find it familiar. Harper took a pull from his drink, then for the first time since joining the table, addressed them directly. "Where did you say you were from, Doctor Townsley?"

In 🦄 The Paradoxical Emendation - Merged With T.S. → 9 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
@Lady Amalthea

Thanx. Posted in CS tab and good to go on this end.
In 🦄 The Paradoxical Emendation - Merged With T.S. → 9 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay




In 🦄 The Paradoxical Emendation - Merged With T.S. → 9 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Resubmitting.

In 🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S. → 9 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Caesar Gonzalez

Location: La Hacienda


So much for not reacting. If Natasha wanted to leave the gathering early, Caesar wasn't going to stop her. Unfortunately, if she was an innocent, her mere presence here would put her under scrutiny by the wrong people. It didn't matter to Caesar, seemed to always attract the wrong people, and the damage was done with Cecily, which is why she had been receiving the ongoing protection of himself or his employee, a particularly large British man who Caesar needed to punch very, very hard out of general principle.

"Talking privately was for your protection, Doctor," began Caesar, barely raising the volume of his voice. "We don't know each other very well. If I wanted to intimidate you, I would have said what I did in front of Maria. Or Thalia. Or half of the people in the courtyard. But I do need to apologize. Allowing you to come here might have put you on Juno's radar if you weren't already." That last part was a little sobering for the venerable Mexican. If Natasha was uninvolved, the fact that she accompanied him to his family's home in Mexico would paint an interesting picture for the opposition.

Regardless of personal insult, Caesar did not get angry. It was in his nature to react to insult, but not solely from basic, grade-school level name calling. Much more had happened to him in a lifetime of horrible things for something as trite as that to provoke his ire. She did have a point, though. "You are right about one thing. I am a bastard. And I have more direct methods of getting information from people than having a polite conversation. I know what I know because my company is pursuing their own investigation into a series of related murders, one of which is M'hija. Your boss is involved. Your hospital is a crime scene. I will ask questions about people who are near that, and are then near my family. And my people keep me informed."

Switching direction, Caesar offered, "I would prefer it if you did not, but if you insist on leaving, I can have someone drive you. The cabbies here will rob someone like you blind."

Meanwhile, in the courtyard...

"Oh, there you are!" This from Thalia, just locating Cecily's quiet nook away from the press of friends and family members. "Hey, they're about to start passing around food, if you're hungry, girl." Of course, she didn't really look like she found an unattended corner someplace because she wanted to have a lot of company. "Hey, you came down here, you saw a few people, you paid respects. This is going to keep going for a long time. There's no shame if you want to get back up to your rooms. I'll go with, if it makes you feel any better."

In 🦄 Deeper Than The Sands - Merged With T.S. → 9 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Reginald Keystone


Location: Qasr El Nil Barracks



While not as thoroughly unpleasant as it could have been, the air i side of Reginald's office did not fully agree with him. That is to say, in hus younger years, he might have referred to the room as "...a trifle rump-stuffy, my good man..." and gone about his business without much in the way of followup comment. But this was the office of a Lord Major! The impression of the British Empire here in Cairo hung upon the orderly business and impression left on visitors coming to see any him. His role as a dutiful Commanding Officer lay partially in the order of his office. This would have to be rectified, however comparatively mild it may be.

The Lord Major rose and turned to his windows. They overlooked the Nile, after a fashion. Good view. Good lighting. And thankfully, they could open. He did so without delay, and set himself to locating an atomizer of jasmine water he swore he saw in here nary a day ago.

Then it happened. A knock sounded from his door. Ordinarily, this would be the very thing he would ignore, unexpected visitors to his office. He had no other appointments except for two enlisted men who were due for reports, but they weren't expected for a bit. This time, however, the dulcet voice of Aziza Tarek could be heard announcing herself. This was bad.

"Yes! Just a moment, my dear!" he called, eyes popping open wide with alarm and urgently flapping his report toward the open window in wide, scooping motions, desperately trying to fan the lesser evil away. "Yes, just one..." he began, now giving up the attempt to move air around and searching furiously through his desk drawers for that atomizer. Damn and be-blast that foul thing!" he muttered, scramblong through the notepads and documents, rifling away past the blotters and ink refills. He found it, at last, behind an old set of boxed fountain pens, a good long ago gift from some dignitary or another.

Reginald let out a triumphant "AHA!" and began spritzing the air around him, walking carefully to the door. He tucked the atomizer behind his back and plastered a welcoming smile onto his face, then opened the door with as much grace as he could muster. "Miss Tarek! What a pleasant surprise, do come in and take a chair, please! Now, to what do I owe the honor of your most welcome presence?"

Yup. Nailed it.
In 🦄 The Paradoxical Emendation - Merged With T.S. → 9 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Location: Ville au Camp, Kitchen House


Greek? Of course. Gilbert adored the Greek language. So descriptive, artistically and scientifically, though for precision he preferred Latin. It was more complex, but it was a highly functional tongue. Admittedly though, this was not the conversation he wanted to have with Evelyn over breakfast. Though if he wanted to be wholly objective about the situation, breakfast was here first. Let it never be said that Gilbert Theodore Summers was not a fair man. As she browbeat the once mighty ruler of the ancient world, he merely sat, shoveling another couple of forkfuls of chopped steak and eggs into his face, giving her a kindly smile.

She was really was just trying to make a good impression on the newcomers, of which there might actually be a few on this day. Paradoxes weren't easy to come by, he figured, and it was a hell of a shock for some of them. This was a pleasant sort of place, tucked away from anything loud or particularly anachronistic, depending upon what era these people might hail from. Time loops were funny that way.

What was not funny was the look of a somewhat cross avatar of The Dice, smoking her pipe and staring down at him like he was some kind of uncouth savage. It had been a very, very long time since he could rightly be portrayed as such. But he was mostly naked and he was most certainly enjoying his morning repast to the exclusion of anything else. He'd already had a very full morning. But she did make a point. Gilbert swallowed hard and addressed her respectfully. "Miss Lucas, I really like those pants. They're me. And they will be all freshened up in another minute or two. Now, how about you have a seat?" The tall Emendator placed a delicate porcelain cup and saucer down in front of an empty seat from across the table. "I have simmering water on. Let me get you some tea?"
In 🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1 → 9 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Ash Holloway


Location: Armageddon -> Northern End of the Franklin Addition


His ears were ringing, or they seemed like they were. It was the sudden rush of blood and adrenaline that might strike a novice soldier, just shipped in from the world. His head was in pure survival mode, without the benefit of his years of military experience.

Get your head right, soldier. This is any other missile strike. Any other shock and awe attack. Treat it like that.

The Soldier was right. God may have played a cruel joke on them just then, but he couldn't shake his fist at the sky and hope to get anything accomplished.

His mind crystallized every detail of what he saw before he stepped back into his big truck and started rolling back in the general direction of Newnan. Thana was with capable people, and two strange women in a tank. If memory served, it looked kind of like an old 40's model Stuart. A good mechanic could make one of those run forever. One was a young woman with very familiar eyes, though he couldn't place why. The other was dressed erratically and in stark makeup. And older man, too, who looked out of place among his group. James and Ryan lay broken at the bottom of a rip in the earth. Underneath his numb emotional state, Ash noted a streak of something tear within him, promising distinct pain when he allowed himself to feel. James was dead. His mercy only gave him an hour. Less.

Beatrice, Gavin, and Thana survived, along with the female tank team. They were the best chance that any survivors had to avoid Eden's marauders. And Ash was the best chance that any of his people that could still walk had for survival. This was the right plan to execute, if only he could get back into his former home. Ash tried very had to ignore the giant hole in the earth that had formed mostly outside of the walled and once habitable section, but considering that the road he had to take basically skirted the smouldering abyss, this passive denial was doomed to failure. His road was straight and solid. Ash forced his head to turn to the side far enough for the hole to fill most of his vision. It was an awe inspiring and terrible vision - and it snapped him back into reality immediately. It didn't matter that there was no Newnan, no Army, no United States anymore. He was Captain Ashton Jameson Holloway, an Engineer and Combat Officer in the finest army that the world had ever seen. His people needed him, what few were left.

Ash shifted his Hordebuster into gear and barrelled down the dusty road with a greater sense of purpose. North. Straight north. Find a way past the hole, find a way into Newnan. Help who you can. Get them to safety. It occurred to him briefly that he was following the same path that he did to get down to the Water Treatment Facility; the same path as the tank did. The route was reliable and open, and he continued to follow it up, past the downed walls and ruined buildings across the span of collapsed earth. Somewhere in that rubble-strewn crater was a pile of timber that used to be his home. Within that home was a refrigerator. And within that refrigerator was the remains of his supper from the previous evening. James's last barbecue. It seemed like a fitting name for the day so far. Episode 63: James's Last Barbecue.

Gradually, Ash began to see token sections of upright wall, even breaks in the destruction where he could see land coming up to Newnan's interior. It was not safe to traverse, granted, but people might have gotten out. But this was temporary in nature, as his mission to find a way in took him away from Newnan proper, veering into a residential area one street over from the walls. The town was obscured by trees and well scavenged houses for a block or two as Ash made his way around, but the column of smoke that followed the mushroom cloud above Newnan was still clearly visible beyond. North and east. Circumnavigate his destroyed home. No survivors yet.

Then suddenly, there was a break in his luck. A clear view of the Franklin addition could be glimpsed down one of the residential streets. Ash turned his massive motorized beast down the road, barely bothering to breathe with apprehension. As the Hordebuster neared the remains of the area set aside for their Franklin people, he slowed a bit, trying like hell to catch a glimpse of any movement that wasn't smoke or shifting rubble. He then loosened his gun in its holster, just in case the unexpected might occur.

First priority: Survivors. Where the hell were they?






Location: The Other Side of Armageddon


Thalia remembered playing D&D as a kid. Even a bit in college. It wasn't like there was a whole lot to do among the other electronic engineering students, aside from drink. And as it turned out, she could do both at the same time rather proficiently. But that wasn't the reason why the thought of Dungeons and Dragons popped into her mind. It always seemed to Thalia that, although the adventure modules were expertly drafted, it never seemed like the adventurers themselves had much of a reason to hang out. It just seemed like, given the situation, a whole bunch of borderline sociopaths with melee weapons and breathtaking anger issues just decided one day to all go on the same quest at the same time, hopefully not to kill one another in the process. A handful of professional warriors just meet up someplace and decide to trust each other while they go a'questin'. It made no sense. None.

Then today happened. If their slightly portly Dungeon Master could see them now, it was very possible that Thalia owed him an apology. A big, shiny one. As it turned out, that was exactly how it went down. Not just with these people, either, but her first meeting with Lola went in a similar manner. But this group... wow. They had literally just met, got themselves caught by an adventure hook, and instantly decided to hit the road together. Plus, there were more than enough colorful personalities and rugged individuals between them to populate numerous dark corners in watering holes across the realm. Thalia counted herself among that number.

Thalia nodded back to Thana, the newest addition to their Island of Misfit Toys. Yeah, of course she lost someone to them. It seemed that everyone in the area did. She looked like she could handle herself and was highly motivated. "Thalia Carmichael. Tech and Security Specialist, MSS. "Angel" works, though." They seemed decent. Decent enough to join on a retributive killing spree. Still, they hadn't gotten past basic introductions, and they were climbing back into vehicles. "Hey! We're going to need to pool auur resources and get a plan togetha, yeah?" she rattled off in moderate Bostonian. "We need a staging point and you need to read us in!" Nevertheless she headed for her spot in the turret of Lola's tank. This place was not safe.
In 🦄 Soulless Regency - Merged With T.S. → 9 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Passive Skills:
  • Fal'shbort - You are tougher, stronger, more Russian!
  • Tretiy Glaz - An ability that gives a person a sixth sense into the future. Unpredictable and random.
Location: Russian Imperial Circus Tent City (Regent's Park)


Insomuch as The Great Bazhooli was not a man who was prone to judging others purely on their preferences, this was talk about a bowl of crisp, unsatisfying, wispy greenery. If the Kolev performers had such things squirreled away in their tents and vardos, then more power to them. Circus cooks and circus vendors had spent the better part of their work hours preparing food with the intent of selling it to the people of London and thereabouts as items one could walk about with, or sit for short periods of time and consume. Bowls of leafy vegetables were not high on their To Do List. But hey, if the younger firewalker wanted lettuce, who was Vladimir to stop him? More cheburek for The Great Bazhooli.

However, he had to set an example for the boy. Little Adam mustn't be led to believe such unmasculine things about mealtimes. As they walked in the vicinity of the food preparation areas, he began quietly, "You are knowing, little man, vegetables are important, da? Vell, don't tell I say that, okay? Okay. But vhen ve are around people, you tell them..." He raised the volmue of his voice as to be overheard clearly, "Salad is not food! Salad is vhat food eats!"

The Tent City was a jumble of various knots of people, some setting up, some clearing out areas, and many finding whatever open spot was available to practice their acts. Gymnasts and contortionists went through their motions on raised wooden platforms, effortlessly pushing their bodies past the limits of broad humanity. Musicians looked on, accenting the endeavors of the laborers and performers, which in turn brought about the attention of many of the dancers nearby. It was like the Circus decided to host its show outdoors, many of the acts simultaneously, in plain view of the general public. Of course, there was no general public at this time, nor would there be back in the great Tent City of the Russian Imperial Circus. Vladimir even saw some of his own people setting up, juggling knives and beginning the first steps of the acrobatic, juggling dance known to the Rusyn Cossacks as Mamushka. It was more than a dance to these people, more than mere entertainment for the masses or even themselves; the astute could witness the extreme martial application of these movements, note the physicality and skill with a blade involved.

Vlad looked on approvingly. He would join them shortly, but for now, the legendary showman escorted Adam to a respectable vendor and procured for him a couple of meat pies and a paper bowl of honeyed nuts. "More! There is more if you vant, little Adam. You eat. Is plenty. Maybe after you are done, I show you Russian knife throwing. You vould like, da?" He maintained a cheerful appearance, as usual, though there was still a persistent concern about Elizaveta. It was his job, and besides, she was as good as a daughter to him, regardless of social status.





"I will defend those who cannot defend themselves. I will be faithful in love and loyal in friendship."
Location: Russian Imperial Circus Tent City (Regent's Park)


Mary was not completely unaccustomed to the trappings of finery. She was able to assist in the proper fitting of Elizaveta's gown and accessories to her with only minor difficulty. She did not generally partake of things with such affluence implied by it, though she could admire the beauty and skill involved in its creation. And the Grand Duchess did look every inch her station, in Mary's opinion. She could never wear something like this wonderful gown; it would clash horribly with her halberd and make her more equestrian pursuits difficult. But Elizaveta did look very regal, and Mary allowed herself a touch of humble satisfaction at assisting her in getting ready.

During the course of wrestling with the fine dress, Mary listened carefully to Elizaveta's concerns. She refrained from discussion until after everything was ready, focusing on the task at hand. When they were done, the young Apostolic stood, beamed warmly, and spoke. "You look radiant, Veta. Truly regal." She meant it, too. It was not her way, but she could appreciate the look of a fine dress, the tailor's craft not unlike that of an architect or sculptor, from planning to execution of an original piece. It was not flattery and carried more sincerity than a mere polite nod in the Grand Duchess's direction. Then she got to business, such as her business involved the Soulless. "Veta, if I may speak to timing? If Lord Rutherford and Miss Wyndham left for Gretna Green immediately after the event at Almack's, or as of this morning, I cannot imagine that we would be able to catch up to them in time to stop their marriage."

Mary did not say this to discourage. In truth, she wanted to find out for herself. If Rutherford was in league with an organized Soulless uprising, then this was precisely what she was put upon the world to fight against. However, she was pledged to lend her assistance to others here in London. And according to the message from the Vatican, she was to learn Russian Trained skills from Elizaveta herself. She was torn between two obligations. Maybe there was a way to do both. "If you wish to go, I cannot stop you. I must advise that you do not travel alone. I would very much like to go with you, if I may. I know the laws, culture, and customs of the place you wish to travel and they are more tolerant of Catholics in Scotland." She sighed, moving on to the liabilities of her situation, "There are some obstacles to overcome before I can commit myself, however. I am responsible for the child, Adam. I have also promised to give assistance to the young Lord Wenwynith, still a boy but has been given apparent mortal threat from Soulless. I am friend to his sister, the Lady Virginia Crypt, and await word from her on the matter this evening. Further, I must send word back to St. Etheldreda's. If we travel, they need to inform Rome as to the nature of my departure."

Ever the pragmatist, Mary pressed on to more logistical issues, "Gretna Green is a few days' journey from here. We would need supplies. There are other things to take into consideration, but if these issues can be surmounted I believe that I can greatly increase your chances of success in your task, Veta."

In 🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed) → 9 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
@Lady Amalthea

Basic action is to advance two squares, moving to flank Kyra. Speaking of which, I believe she is next.
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