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4 yrs ago
Current is sexualizing Pokemon a variation of bestiality?
3 likes
4 yrs ago
lol. lmao
7 likes
5 yrs ago
JOHN TABLE!
1 like
5 yrs ago
hearing rumors that rebornfan is storming the US capitol, looking for whoever's responsible for everyone ghosting his RPs
14 likes
6 yrs ago
you got a fat ass and a bright future ahead of you. keep it up champ
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Sweat gathered at Yosef's brow. No matter how many times he would reach up to wipe it away, more would inevitably form. The humidity here was slowly draining all life from his body. Yosef Kaganavich was not accustomed to the heat. To try and compare the summers of Moscow to those here in India is to compare a campfire to a raging inferno. He had already rolled up the sleeves of his drab uniform and loosened the top few buttons, but it was yet not enough; Kaganavich wondered if he might catch fire if he stepped out into the bare sun for more than a few seconds.

"Why you would ever make any place so hot, I will never know." Yosef lamented quietly, a wry smile creeping over his hairy face. "Truly mysterious are your ways!"

Despite the unbearable heat, it wasn't all bad. This place was one of unimaginable beauty- like nothing Yosef had ever laid his eyes upon. Rolling hills of pure, unbroken green framed great swathes of towering trees. It was as if Yosef had stepped into another world entirely when the train passed through one of the Raj's cities. He tried to remember the details as best he could so that, when given the chance, he could paint a picture in a letter sent back to his mother and sister.

Dinah would've loved this place. She had more of a stomach for adventure than Yosef ever did. He could vividly imagine her dragging him by the hand from market stall to market stall, forcing him to eat strange foods who's names he could barely pronounce. Father would disapprove, of course- he'd worry that anything and everything served in a strange land would be non-kosher.

Yosef felt his heart ache. It was like a dagger driven straight through his chest; a burning, sharp pain that made the corners of his mouth fall heavy. He missed them all so dearly. He hadn't seen papa in nearly six years. The mail carrier had stopped bringing his letters ten months ago. It...had not been easy for Kaganavich without the guiding hand of Abram, but he'd managed to survive. He had focused on taking care of his family, and fulfilling the duty that his father left him. That, combined with the backbreaking work at the factory, had kept Yosef's mind occupied.

Things were different now. His brothers had been plucked up and forced to fight, and Yosef had been separated from his sister and mother. It had not been long since the fall of Moscow, and even less time had passed since he was forced to leave behind Dinah and Miriam, yet the impact was all the harsher. Yosef had no one to turn to anymore. No comfort to be found in the embrace of his momma- no duty in protecting his brothers and sister from the harshness of the world. He could not turn to his father for guidance.

For the first time in his life, Yosef was truly alone. He was alone and trapped on the other side of the world, so very far from home.

Then train came to a screeching halt, the shouts of officers and conscripts tearing him from his bleak thoughts. Yosef shook his head and wiped at his brow once more, rising from where he sat. He needed to get out and stretch his legs. Perhaps he could find something to do to distract himself from the burden of his own mind.

He descended from the train car, his boots smacking hard against the ground. It felt good to move on solid ground- Yosef had never been one for trains. He always felt a little sick whenever he spent too much time in one. The young man turned his gaze about the 'platform', eyeing the strangers gathered there. These were his fellow soldiers. Warriors of this 'Project' he had been assigned to. They were...an odd assortment, to be sure. They came from all over the world, with appearances and backgrounds as wide and varied as the flora he'd seen as they passed through the countryside. Many of those from Asian countries were almost alien to him- though Moscow was a large city full of all kinds of people, Yosef had never met someone from China or beyond. This would be a new experience for him.

It was equally exciting as it was frightening. The nervous recruit glanced from side to side, his hands clasping at the pockets on his trousers as he wondered how he might introduce himself to his fellows. He almost wished he had been called to help move the coal instead of being left to his own devices.

His standing about with that worried look on his face didn't last long, however, as he turned just in time to watch a particularly tall man slam his forehead against the top of the train door. Yosef couldn't help the smile that broke across his face. It reminded him of Elisha- always the clumsy sort who never looked where he was going. It was a reminder that set his heart at ease. He had to remember that these soldiers around him, despite their gruff appearances, were people all the same- they were to be his comrades in arms, so...it'd be best if he got to know them well. Perhaps he might find friends among them to fill the void in his heart.

Taking a few steps forward, Yosef approached the tall stranger. "This place is something else." He started, noticing how engrossed the man was with their surroundings. It was likely better to just ignore the man's earlier blunder, even if that was what brought Yosef over to him in the first place. "I didn't know the world could be so vibrant!" He brought a hand forward, offering it to the stranger. "I am Yosef. It is good to meet you."




Sweat gathered at Yosef's brow. No matter how many times he would reach up to wipe it away, more would inevitably form. The humidity here was slowly draining all life from his body. Yosef Kaganavich was not accustomed to the heat. To try and compare the summers of Moscow to those here in India is to compare a campfire to a raging inferno. He had already rolled up the sleeves of his drab uniform and loosened the top few buttons, but it was yet not enough; Kaganavich wondered if he might catch fire if he stepped out into the bare sun for more than a few seconds.

"Why you would ever make any place so hot, I will never know." Yosef lamented quietly, a wry smile creeping over his hairy face. "Truly mysterious are your ways!"

Despite the unbearable heat, it wasn't all bad. This place was one of unimaginable beauty- like nothing Yosef had ever laid his eyes upon. Rolling hills of pure, unbroken green framed great swathes of towering trees. It was as if Yosef had stepped into another world entirely when the train passed through one of the Raj's cities. He tried to remember the details as best he could so that, when given the chance, he could paint a picture in a letter sent back to his mother and sister.

Dinah would've loved this place. She had more of a stomach for adventure than Yosef ever did. He could vividly imagine her dragging him by the hand from market stall to market stall, forcing him to eat strange foods who's names he could barely pronounce. Father would disapprove, of course- he'd worry that anything and everything served in a strange land would be non-kosher.

Yosef felt his heart ache. It was like a dagger driven straight through his chest; a burning, sharp pain that made the corners of his mouth fall heavy. He missed them all so dearly. He hadn't seen papa in nearly six years. The mail carrier had stopped bringing his letters ten months ago. It...had not been easy for Kaganavich without the guiding hand of Abram, but he'd managed to survive. He had focused on taking care of his family, and fulfilling the duty that his father left him. That, combined with the backbreaking work at the factory, had kept Yosef's mind occupied.

Things were different now. His brothers had been plucked up and forced to fight, and Yosef had been separated from his sister and mother. It had not been long since the fall of Moscow, and even less time had passed since he was forced to leave behind Dinah and Miriam, yet the impact was all the harsher. Yosef had no one to turn to anymore. No comfort to be found in the embrace of his momma- no duty in protecting his brothers and sister from the harshness of the world. He could not turn to his father for guidance.

For the first time in his life, Yosef was truly alone. He was alone and trapped on the other side of the world, so very far from home.

Then train came to a screeching halt, the shouts of officers and conscripts tearing him from his bleak thoughts. Yosef shook his head and wiped at his brow once more, rising from where he sat. He needed to get out and stretch his legs. Perhaps he could find something to do to distract himself from the burden of his own mind.

He descended from the train car, his boots smacking hard against the ground. It felt good to move on solid ground- Yosef had never been one for trains. He always felt a little sick whenever he spent too much time in one. The young man turned his gaze about the 'platform', eyeing the strangers gathered there. These were his fellow soldiers. Warriors of this 'Project' he had been assigned to. They were...an odd assortment, to be sure. They came from all over the world, with appearances and backgrounds as wide and varied as the flora he'd seen as they passed through the countryside. Many of those from Asian countries were almost alien to him- though Moscow was a large city full of all kinds of people, Yosef had never met someone from China or beyond. This would be a new experience for him.

It was equally exciting as it was frightening. The nervous recruit glanced from side to side, his hands clasping at the pockets on his trousers as he wondered how he might introduce himself to his fellows. He almost wished he had been called to help move the coal instead of being left to his own devices.

His standing about with that worried look on his face didn't last long, however, as he turned just in time to watch a particularly tall man slam his forehead against the top of the train door. Yosef couldn't help the smile that broke across his face. It reminded him of Elisha- always the clumsy sort who never looked where he was going. It was a reminder that set his heart at ease. He had to remember that these soldiers around him, despite their gruff appearances, were people all the same- they were to be his comrades in arms, so...it'd be best if he got to know them well. Perhaps he might find friends among them to fill the void in his heart.

Taking a few steps forward, Yosef approached the tall stranger. "This place is something else." He started, noticing how engrossed the man was with their surroundings. It was likely better to just ignore the man's earlier blunder, even if that was what brought Yosef over to him in the first place. "I didn't know the world could be so vibrant!" He brought a hand forward, offering it to the stranger. "I am Yosef. It is good to meet you."
While we're all underway, feel free to interact a bit with each other. It's good to get to know your companions so you know each other's names when you're being horribly slaughtered by otherworldly abominations adventuring together.
@Inkarnate He's an eloquent guy, truly.
Me tank.

Me hard head.

ME SMASH.



Praetor City, Dall
Winter - 941 F.M (Finis Mortem)
[ ♫ ]




The call for a free round never failed to garner the attention the guardsman sought. His worn visage was upturned in a light smile as several people were quick to bound forward. The veritable charge was led by the mountain of a man that the veteran guard had spotted earlier. He had a feeling someone of his demeanor was here on business of this sort. The leather-clad stranger carried himself like a warrior- it was a walk the old soldier was well acquainted with. It was one he had once walked as well in his younger years, before his body and temperament were weathered by too many winters.

"Ahh, don't you worry- the man'll get what's coming to him soon enough." He scornfully replied, knowing full well that the steward's punishment would be a light slap on the wrist compared to the hell any man of lesser status would be put through for such a short coming. "Pleasure to meet you, Blackwall. I'm Sergeant Howle of the Royal Guard." Howle held out one hand toward Blackwall, offering a shake, while the other reached behind to take the first of the whiskey brought up by the barkeep. Howle passed it right on to the warrior in exchange for his summons.

The two younger guards accompanying the sergeant were quick to snatch up drinks of their own. The darker haired and fairer skinned of the two lifted the harsh liquid up to his lips, only to pause before he could drink at the sight of the next to approach them. He launched a sharp elbow into the side of the companion with him, wordlessly bringing the other man's gaze to follow his own. The next to come forward was easily ousted as a wizard, given her attire and the company she'd kept. Their was suspicion in the first man's eyes- though it was not mirrored by his fellow. On the contrary, his second's gaze was filled with a captivated fascination. Magic, and those that wielded it, was an incredibly rare thing to behold. Praetor City was one of a handful of hubs of activity that saw wizards pass through at all. Many cities would consider the presence of one magic user an omen, and a moment to be recorded in the history books. For most in Dall, however, magicians just meant one thing:

Trouble.

Neither of the two flankers spoke up as Tegan introduced herself, though for entirely different reasons. They took a step away and allowed Howle the floor, letting him take a step forward to offer yet another handshake to yet another adventurer. "His highness King Astius-" The sergeant emphasized- "Surely appreciates your answering his call." Howle silently figured the exorbitant pay offered to types like these ones was thanks enough, but it wasn't his place to comment; especially not when he was meant to be convincing these people to take the job for his lordship. One summons in hand, he looked to the other magician accompanying Tegan. "I'm not made of coin, but if your friend has his summons, I'll see what I can do." Howle's smile faltered just a little, wincing as he totaled up the costs in his head. The Steward was going to have to reimburse the sergeant for all of this, or there'd be hell to pay. For Howle, more than likely- but he'd be very upset about it.

"You all have my apologies, but I'm afraid you'll need to drink and walk. We're pressed for time as it is." Howle nodded. He silently tore the drinks away from his two guardsmen, sliding them back across the bar. A protest nearly started from both guards and the barkeeper, but a single glare was enough to choke down any words they might have for him. He didn't doubt the bastard across the counter owed the king anyway, and the two with him knew the captain would whip them both on sight if he caught them drinking on duty. With that, the group had to be off, returning to the keep in due haste. Any questions could be answered along the way, or deferred to the steward upon arrival.




"I'll have a cup brewed for you immediately, then." He insisted with a slight forward nod of his head. The gray haired captain turned heel, leading the way for the single adventurer back toward the castle keep. His smile, already characteristically thin, drooped into a frown when he heard the calls for a 'drink at the tavern' from the guard stationed at the front. His nose was further stuck up when the woman he was escorting mentioned that she was married. The captain made a mental note to take the man aside later and explain in no small detail the etiquette expected of the king's own.

He had always been a strict man of chivalry and code, and he expected his men to follow in his stead. Those that did not rarely remained in his guard for very long.

A slight turn of his head to look back at the oddly dressed treasure hunter, the royal guardsman answered the questioned offered him with a wiggle of his thick, gray mustache. "The nearest inn is the Lame Mule. It's a short walk from the keep up the main road." He explained, his voice echoing in the pit of his gut like a drum of war. It was a short, factual explanation- his own ill-feelings about the lowly establishment kept to himself.

"I'd personally recommend an establishment in the eastern district. The Flightless Pegasus, it's called. The best drinks you can get in Praetor. More expensive and out of the way, but the woman that owns it is wonderful." The captain added after a moment of hesitation.

Before them the great wooden doors of the keep were thrown open, the freezing cold air plowing into the warm exterior. It's halls of grand marble and sapphire curtains weaved from the finest linens and silks were a sight to behold indeed. No place on earth could match it's splendor- according to the men of Dall, at least, who were known for being totally objective and not at all self-absorbed.

Inside the castle hall, a handful of unfamiliar faces could be found. An odd, weasel-looking man stood near an equally shifty-eyed woman bearing heavy iron shackles. And then there was the robed man with a distant look on his face that they'd seen outside before. The captain judged them all quite harshly, though the only sign of his disapproval was the creasing of his wrinkled visage.

He cleared his throat, stepping forward to hopefully get their collective attention. "You have my sincerest apologies for the delay." The captain began. "And I would like to thank you for your patience. Steward Lethino will be overseeing your departure. If you'd all follow me, I'll lead you to him." The guardsman waved, beginning to move through the sparkling hall with the hope that they'd all fall in at his rear.



Praetor City, Dall
Winter - 941 F.M (Finis Mortem)
[ ♫ ]




The call for a free round never failed to garner the attention the guardsman sought. His worn visage was upturned in a light smile as several people were quick to bound forward. The veritable charge was led by the mountain of a man that the veteran guard had spotted earlier. He had a feeling someone of his demeanor was here on business of this sort. The leather-clad stranger carried himself like a warrior- it was a walk the old soldier was well acquainted with. It was one he had once walked as well in his younger years, before his body and temperament were weathered by too many winters.

"Ahh, don't you worry- the man'll get what's coming to him soon enough." He scornfully replied, knowing full well that the steward's punishment would be a light slap on the wrist compared to the hell any man of lesser status would be put through for such a short coming. "Pleasure to meet you, Blackwall. I'm Sergeant Howle of the Royal Guard." Howle held out one hand toward Blackwall, offering a shake, while the other reached behind to take the first of the whiskey brought up by the barkeep. Howle passed it right on to the warrior in exchange for his summons.

The two younger guards accompanying the sergeant were quick to snatch up drinks of their own. The darker haired and fairer skinned of the two lifted the harsh liquid up to his lips, only to pause before he could drink at the sight of the next to approach them. He launched a sharp elbow into the side of the companion with him, wordlessly bringing the other man's gaze to follow his own. The next to come forward was easily ousted as a wizard, given her attire and the company she'd kept. Their was suspicion in the first man's eyes- though it was not mirrored by his fellow. On the contrary, his second's gaze was filled with a captivated fascination. Magic, and those that wielded it, was an incredibly rare thing to behold. Praetor City was one of a handful of hubs of activity that saw wizards pass through at all. Many cities would consider the presence of one magic user an omen, and a moment to be recorded in the history books. For most in Dall, however, magicians just meant one thing:

Trouble.

Neither of the two flankers spoke up as Tegan introduced herself, though for entirely different reasons. They took a step away and allowed Howle the floor, letting him take a step forward to offer yet another handshake to yet another adventurer. "His highness King Astius-" The sergeant emphasized- "Surely appreciates your answering his call." Howle silently figured the exorbitant pay offered to types like these ones was thanks enough, but it wasn't his place to comment; especially not when he was meant to be convincing these people to take the job for his lordship. One summons in hand, he looked to the other magician accompanying Tegan. "I'm not made of coin, but if your friend has his summons, I'll see what I can do." Howle's smile faltered just a little, wincing as he totaled up the costs in his head. The Steward was going to have to reimburse the sergeant for all of this, or there'd be hell to pay. For Howle, more than likely- but he'd be very upset about it.

"You all have my apologies, but I'm afraid you'll need to drink and walk. We're pressed for time as it is." Howle nodded. He silently tore the drinks away from his two guardsmen, sliding them back across the bar. A protest nearly started from both guards and the barkeeper, but a single glare was enough to choke down any words they might have for him. He didn't doubt the bastard across the counter owed the king anyway, and the two with him knew the captain would whip them both on sight if he caught them drinking on duty. With that, the group had to be off, returning to the keep in due haste. Any questions could be answered along the way, or deferred to the steward upon arrival.




"I'll have a cup brewed for you immediately, then." He insisted with a slight forward nod of his head. The gray haired captain turned heel, leading the way for the single adventurer back toward the castle keep. His smile, already characteristically thin, drooped into a frown when he heard the calls for a 'drink at the tavern' from the guard stationed at the front. His nose was further stuck up when the woman he was escorting mentioned that she was married. The captain made a mental note to take the man aside later and explain in no small detail the etiquette expected of the king's own.

He had always been a strict man of chivalry and code, and he expected his men to follow in his stead. Those that did not rarely remained in his guard for very long.

A slight turn of his head to look back at the oddly dressed treasure hunter, the royal guardsman answered the questioned offered him with a wiggle of his thick, gray mustache. "The nearest inn is the Lame Mule. It's a short walk from the keep up the main road." He explained, his voice echoing in the pit of his gut like a drum of war. It was a short, factual explanation- his own ill-feelings about the lowly establishment kept to himself.

"I'd personally recommend an establishment in the eastern district. The Flightless Pegasus, it's called. The best drinks you can get in Praetor. More expensive and out of the way, but the woman that owns it is wonderful." The captain added after a moment of hesitation.

Before them the great wooden doors of the keep were thrown open, the freezing cold air plowing into the warm exterior. It's halls of grand marble and sapphire curtains weaved from the finest linens and silks were a sight to behold indeed. No place on earth could match it's splendor- according to the men of Dall, at least, who were known for being totally objective and not at all self-absorbed.

Inside the castle hall, a handful of unfamiliar faces could be found. An odd, weasel-looking man stood near an equally shifty-eyed woman bearing heavy iron shackles. And then there was the robed man with a distant look on his face that they'd seen outside before. The captain judged them all quite harshly, though the only sign of his disapproval was the creasing of his wrinkled visage.

He cleared his throat, stepping forward to hopefully get their collective attention. "You have my sincerest apologies for the delay." The captain began. "And I would like to thank you for your patience. Steward Lethino will be overseeing your departure. If you'd all follow me, I'll lead you to him." The guardsman waved, beginning to move through the sparkling hall with the hope that they'd all fall in at his rear.
@LetMeDoStuffMy submission for an alternate experimental gear for my combat engineer. There's some deviation from true history, obviously, but I'd hope that my explanation for that is adequate. Let me know what you think:

I'll be moving us on when Friday hits- so two days from now. Just a heads up for anyone with a post in the works.
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