Avatar of Sodium
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    1. Sodium 11 yrs ago

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10 yrs ago
I never realized my profile was so popular.

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NAME: Charles The Green
OCCUPATION: Rule-Abiding Private Investigator, Lawless Sax Addict
AGE: 37
ENCLOSED PICTURE:
PREFERRED COLOR: Aubergine
ALLERGIES: Kentucky Bluegrass
CRIMINAL RECORD: Trespassing (5 counts)
COMMENTS, ET AL: Has an odd fascination with paper clips.

I notice a distinct lack of an eighth rule.


Dominik


Location: Town of Beginnings - The Inn - Bar




Dominik sighed into his mug, thinking back on his day.

He'd started off bright and early, getting the jump on the masses in order to grind some fast cash. He'd watched as a pair of pre-teens fought a boar and lost, thinking it was business as usual for an MMO. He'd stepped in to help a few solo players into the swing of things, earning himself a few contacts and future favors. He'd managed to scrounge up 30 gold by the time everyone had been forcibly teleported back into the center of town.

Then there was the announcement. Dominik wasn't convinced of the specifics - for all he knew, those who died simply weren't allowed to respawn, thus making them "dead" for all intents and purposes. However, it was certain that those he saw die never came back, and that the logout button was no longer present in the menus. The prospect was more exciting than it was terrifying to Dominik. Sure, his life was suddenly on the line in a game he'd died numerous times in over the course of the beta alone. However, Dominik thrived in high-stakes environments, and this most certainly fit the bill.

After the announcement he'd made a beeline to his favorite NPC smithy from the beta - it was something about the NPC's slightly humorous delivery of lines that made it stick with him. Once there, he'd been disappointed by the offerings. It seemed that shields were nowhere to be found, leading him to suspect that they were either in a more difficult level's shop or relegated to a craft-or-drop-only situation. Either way, nothing in the shop was different enough from his starting gear to warrant a purchase - no sign of a two-handed sword or a rapier, and the armor sets didn't interest him. In all, he left with much more money than he'd expected to keep.

Back in the fields he fought with an added level of caution, though it was likely not necessary due to his prior experience. He called it a day after building up to 50 gold and after seeing countless disappearances in much the same manner as Konoha's, which he hadn't witnessed. It made him quite glad he'd foregone his anti-addiction program. Discounting the risks of forcibly disconnecting a full dive mid-session, it was quite likely that doing so would make him unable to return to this world. It wasn't that he didn't wish to return to the real world, though; he simply didn't want to miss out on what this virtual world had in store for him.

That left him here at the inn's bar with two players he'd gotten to know during the beta test. Both had focused on crafting during the beta and used Dominik's business know-how to get their wares to players at decent profit. One, a twintailed brunette in orange armor, was currently bawling into the counter in an alcohol-fueled bout of oppressive sadness. The other, a man who was the spitting image of a very tall dwarf, was gripped by a giggle fit as he tried to calm her by patting her on the back. Dominik merely sighed into his mug once more.

In hindsight, I helped the developers make alcohol's effects far too realistic. There came a crash from the other side of the room, where two teens were in the midst of their first experience with the delicious, fiery substance. Dominik smiled at their antics, remembering his own college days. They weren't all great, but taking them one at a time had certainly made for a good experience.

One day at a time.

The day wasn't over yet, meaning there was still some value to be gleaned. Dominik scanned the room, looking for anyone who might be of interest to himself or his colleagues. Surely there was someone who'd be willing to take a drink with them.
I see you're still accepting! I'd like to apply.

@KoL If you wouldn't mind, please let me know when you do the reboot. I'd like to participate if I'm free.
I think I need to bow out. Sorry.
Sorry for my lack of existence. My employer was bought out by another company, so I've been jumping through hoops to make sure I still have a job once the dust settles. I like my job, dammit.

I should be able to rejoin the action Wednesday if all goes well.
@Gilgex She's speaking to Seere and Chiara.
If anyone has difficulty understanding Yngwie's lines, feel free to have your character ask her for clarification. If your character is somehow unable, feel free to ask here in the OOC.
Three Days Ago, Monterey Regional Airport

Yngwie was furious.

To the world around her, she was just a lonely woman sitting at an empty gate at the airport. Her posture was slightly above average and her coloring was greatly below average, sure, but she wasn't different enough to arouse attention. Her face was kept carefully neutral.

Heracles, however, wasn't fooled. Seventy-ish years spent in constant contact with a person gives a special insight into their inner workings, after all. Or perhaps it was just that he was in the same situation and understood why she was upset.

"These Americans... Vhy ve didn't put them in place years ago astounds me. Transport schedule not kept... and they not provide in place of mistake! Irresponsible..."

A slurred voice only she could hear, full of feigned optimism, sounded from behind her head. "Hey, look at the bright side - you get to spend quality time with me! I just know you looooove keeping me company. After all, I am the strongest, the fastest, the mightiest, the one and only Heracles! Who wouldn't want to buy a few drinks for a guy like me?"

"Knock it off. Bragging not helping, yes? Cannot stand eight hours of this, so up shut early."

"You're telling me to shut up already? Aww, and I thought we were friends." Yngwie gave no response to his playful prodding. "Well, it's kind of chilly here. Since we'll be here a while, would you kindly hold me closer to your heart, that I may feel its warmth?"

The corner of Yngwie's mouth twitched upward. "You know my heart cold like motherland. Now, quiet, for sleeping to help vait faster."




Present, Boston Outlaw

The door to the warehouse opened once more, admitting the tall form of Yngwie Romanov, The Bleak Taskmaster. With a simple glance she surveyed the interior, her trained eyes taking in as much information from the scene as possible. A bar, a number of youthful Flame Hazes, suspiciously labeled laptops, and two people who seemed the most authoritative of the bunch. The other options being a bartender, a lush at the bar, a girl with a bottle of whiskey, a meathead biker, and a timid teen, it wasn't hard to pick them out.

"Oooh, a bar! Get a drink, get a drink! We're going to have fuuuuun tonight! Paaarty!" Heracles' jovial cries fell only upon Yngwie's deaf ears, as she had other concerns.

Namely, she felt a need to chastise those in charge. America had been a great disappointment to her thus far, and the Outlaw had done little to improve her experience. "Vhat is meaning?" she asked, her voice calm and tone level, but her accent quite thick. "Drink before meeting of importance? Vhy are suspicious laptops 'ere? Disorganized not expecting. Joke is this!?"

"Frey, darling, calm down. Nobody's going to understand you like that." Heracles whispered into Yngwie's ear, though even he knew it likely wasn't going to help much.
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