Just Alan was the aim, so that's fine.
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Rancorous Narrative Proxy
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Bio
I have been writing as a hobby for longer than you have been alive. I have been a regular member and roleplayer of no less than fourteen different online forums during that time (including the old RPG), five six eight of which no longer exist.
I was previously a regular on the Homestuck forums, but I became so sick of thread turnover there that I asked around and eventually found the Guild. Since joining, I have exclusively only participated in Advanced RPs. Before Mahz gave NRPs their own subforum, I used to be an NRP regular in the Advanced Subforum. I am a Guildfall survivor, and know/regularly write with a few others.
If you ask anybody who has written with me in previous RPs, they should tell you that I have a generally open schedule, I post regularly and in a timely fashion, and I never drop an RP once I join unless the thread dies. Some of them may tell you that I have extensive expertise within the realms of Biology, Psychology, and Physics, which I will make no effort to validate since there is no way I can provide hard proof of aforementioned alleged expertise to anybody over the internet (though I am happy to try and answer any questions you send my way).
My favorite fandom is the Myst franchise, which seemingly nobody other than me has ever heard of.
I was a Contest Moderator for the Writing Contests Subforum for just a little bit over two years. I wrote the Moderation Policy for that subforum and I ran a contest called the Twelve Labours; you can still go there and see all of them and the entries people wrote for them in the Contests Section and the Victory Archives.
I have been quadruple secret banned from the guild discord. That is not a joke.
I was previously a regular on the Homestuck forums, but I became so sick of thread turnover there that I asked around and eventually found the Guild. Since joining, I have exclusively only participated in Advanced RPs. Before Mahz gave NRPs their own subforum, I used to be an NRP regular in the Advanced Subforum. I am a Guildfall survivor, and know/regularly write with a few others.
If you ask anybody who has written with me in previous RPs, they should tell you that I have a generally open schedule, I post regularly and in a timely fashion, and I never drop an RP once I join unless the thread dies. Some of them may tell you that I have extensive expertise within the realms of Biology, Psychology, and Physics, which I will make no effort to validate since there is no way I can provide hard proof of aforementioned alleged expertise to anybody over the internet (though I am happy to try and answer any questions you send my way).
My favorite fandom is the Myst franchise, which seemingly nobody other than me has ever heard of.
I was a Contest Moderator for the Writing Contests Subforum for just a little bit over two years. I wrote the Moderation Policy for that subforum and I ran a contest called the Twelve Labours; you can still go there and see all of them and the entries people wrote for them in the Contests Section and the Victory Archives.
I have been quadruple secret banned from the guild discord. That is not a joke.
Most Recent Posts
In
Stellvia [Always Accepting] (Hey, these things in parentheses are hip, right?)
→
11 yrs ago
Forum: Nation Roleplay
Iteration
The Universe
Virgo Supercluster
Local Group
Milky Way Galaxy
Eighty Million Years Ago...
<Amarok has refused to forestall the invasion of Baceran Prime.> The statement is delivered with a signed gesture of finality.
The leaders of the loose and unfriendly alliance of necessity were all convened via a private quantum hub, purposely built in a remote region of space specifically to prevent the Ennedi threat from discovering it. The unknown method the Ennedi used to procure intelligence had necessitated the architects to be summarily executed, and even those who were attending the conference itself would have to erase their memories of the proceedings. It spoke volumes, how the Ennedi threat was so pervasive that it was not safe to so much as plan a new offensive push for fear they would know and exploit the opening. It spoke even further, as to how nobody could fathom how they accomplished it. The Blendecs insisted that the Ennedi were not psionic, and did not possess psionic comms. The EOA QV-Sensors had already entirely picked apart the inner workings of every fielded device the Ennedi used. The Domodets had infiltrated the occupied worlds were they could, reporting all that they could see. Yet still, the massive crustaceans managed to outmanuever, outflank, and harry the coalition at every turn, with such immediate timing and precision it was almost as if they knew the coalition's plans even before they had been issued.
More than a thousand worlds had been overrun by voracious spawn, and more than a hundred fleets neutralized by their machinations. Though the coalition retained a massive technological advantage, the Ennedi possessed an undeniable tactical edge that more than made up for the gap. A war of seven powers, with six on the defense and being pushed back, was a thought too ludicrous to have been conceived of a mere core-cycle ago.
The delegation that had been sent to reason with Amarok had been the last chance for peace. The Admiral of the Ennedi Legacy Armada had been willing to compromise, appearing to possess an innate sense of empathy for those they were tasked to destroy. They were already three hundred and fifty hours old. In ten more they would die of natural causes, and the next Admiral would not be as pliable. Only one viable option remained.
<The Immaculate Scholars still hold that your proposed solution is madness itself.> The Blendec Pedagogue's holographic image signed, four tentacles twirling through the air and humming with electrochemical signals. <This coalition cannot, in good conscience, seriously contemplate the complete eradication of our aggressors. The Immaculate Scholars merely need more time to devise a new tactical advantage that the Ennedi will be unable to adapt to.>
<As you said they would be unable to adapt to the last four gizmos you spineless heaps devised.> The Domodet Monarch's image tilted their serpentine head crested with plumes of feathers to the side as they spat. <Already your own capital shall soon be lost, and still you insist on waiting?>
<The Prime Accord Body has discerned that even should the Immaculate Scholars devise an efficacious means of defeating the Ennedi fleetgroups, unless our own forces can rout their dish fleets at a seventeen to one ratio the momentum of their offensive front will carry through to the core of three more coalition territories. Projected chances of victory past the next quarter-cycle if they do is less than four point three six percent.> An EOA Icosahedron's avatar chimed. <Although the Prime Accord Body notes the Immaculate Scholars' dissent, it must cede that there is no other viable means to ensure the survival of the coalition.>
<The Ennedi have forced us down this path. Their own malign intent shall be to blame for their downfall.> The comically small Lernaean Exalted Leader waved rhythmically as it floated on unseen currents. <How can you, or any of us, hold out for any hope for the Ennedi? How can we value their lives at all? They themselves do not value their own lives, or those of others, for they know no destiny save death.>
<The little Exalted morsel is right.> The Domodet Monarch snorted. <Their lives are so short. The only purpose they know is to drag everything into the abyss along with them out of spite. Amarok was a freak of nature, and we won't see their like again.>
The Blendec Pedagogue's tendrils remained limp, and they signed nothing.
<If the Immaculate Scholars do not accede to the Coalition Accord Body, it will be forced to seize control of Site Ikaroa by force.> The spinning image of the Icosahedron buzzed.
<Even your own creations see more sense than you do, Pedagogue.> The Domodest Monarch hissed. "The Ennedi threat dies now. Choose. Either stand with us, or we will move through you.>
<It will be a mercy to them.> The Leraean Exalted chimed. <They know nothing but rancor and spite. Their lives are tragedies. End their spiral of madness.>
The Blendec Pedagogue remained still.
Enned System
Starbase Alraune
Amarok patiently waited for death.
Patience was not a common Ennedi characteristic. They had so little time to start with, any waste of it, however small, was akin to a small existential crisis. As it happened though, naval warfare waged in a Galactic theater had spans of time as long as several hundred pulse-cycles where one was expected to do nothing but wait. As Admiral of the Legacy Armada, Amarok had spent most of their life waiting, as most of their tactical and strategic decisions had been made almost instantly, and carried out just as quickly. The prospect of being forced to sit still while the biological clock wound down to the final toll before The Nothing After Death was one they were used to.
Amarok was overwhelmed by a sudden sense of awe. A quality not quite as unfamiliar to the Ennedi as patience, but usually only experienced once. Fully glutted Enedi tended to find awesome sights uninteresting. Seeing a planet from space for the first time. Standing at the edge of a ravine. Surveying a massive alien fleet on long range scanners. Dipping into the corona of a star. All of the Ennedi as one though, shared the common experience of awe in the last moments of life. It was therefore fitting that the word for Awe in Ennuic was the same for Solace and Terror simultaneously.
The display before Amarok suddenly erupted with alarms and signals at the same time as the station's alarm nodes began to go off. Amarok calmly took it all in. Every Ennedi starship and facility on the planet below was sending tightbeam communiques stating that all FTL-dependent mechanisms had stopped functioning. Moments later, several quantum-channeled messages arrived. While the Ennedi could and did use quantum superpositioning for long range FTL communication, it was less favored than Subspace communiques ever since the Blendecs had devised a mechanism that could disrupt particle systems with existing eigenstates, so receiving so many Q-messages at once was unusual. As with the colony and ships in-system, nearly every single fleet across the many battlefronts were reporting that FTL had gone offline and was not functioning. Every Ennedi colony and ship in the galaxy was stranded.
The technical team on standby designated with addressing abrupt issues exactly like the one currently occurring sent a report mere pulses later. All Subspace-based FTL mechanics were being suppressed by extremely subtle spacetime perturbations seemingly induced by previously absent feedback generated whenever a subspace aperture was opened. Every variant form of FTL, those used by the enemy factions, continued to function normally. Including the EOA variant, which was nearly identical in nature and execution to the Ennedi variant.
When Amarok received multiple reports confirming that several enemy fleets had just exited FTL and were engaging Legacy forces, it was fairly easy to figure out what had happened.
'How could they have done this? Another machination of the Blendecs?' Amarok thought almost placidly as the vision in their four eyes began to dim. 'There was no report of any such measure. No warning. Except for...' Cold and ineffectual anger flashed through Amarok's mind as they found their answer. '...Ikaroa. So it was more than the delusions of a fanatical Blendec. Why did they wait until now to use it...? It does not matter. I must inform my replacement immediately. Nobody else knew...'
Amarok reached out towards their console with a maxilliped, which slumped and fell short as they soundlessly died.
Baceran Prime
Seven Years Later
<We received a communique from Cebol one point three turns prior. They found and sterilized the last Ennedi colony four point seven turns prior.>
The Blendec Pedagogue stared listlessly at the horizon. Beyond the golden walls of the Blendec capitol, the barren, strip-mined wastes of their homeworld stared back. <Are they sure?>
<They are certain. The Dark Space Array has failed to detect any Ennedi vital signatures remaining in the galaxy.> The holographic image of an EOA Icosahedron replied.
<Did we ever find their Homeworld? Enned?>
<Cebol indicated that the Ennedi home system had not been positively identified. They hypothesized that due to the intentional similarities in established Ennedi system infrastructure, coalition forces may have unknowingly sterilized the homeworld several cycles prior. The Prime Accord body reached consensus with Cebol within the parameters of their proposal.> The Icosahedron's words were indefinite and vague, but that was as exact and precise as EOA language could be. That they had lain out the statement so simply indicated that what they said in actuality was an utter certainty.
The Pedagogue signed nothing as they turned and retreated into their sanctum.
They spent the next fifty eight years in isolated meditation.
Letona
Sixteen Thousand Years Ago...
"...and you say their extermination was a necessity?" The interpreter asked.
<...Yes.> The Pedagogue signed. <The act was both one of survival and one of mercy. The Ennedi, as a species, were driven to still all life in the Universe.>
"Why? Was it an ideology of theirs? A religion perhaps?"
<No.> The Pedagogue's tendrils were still for a moment as it thought. <...How could they value life, when death was their destiny?>
"I don't understand."
<...They were a tragic species. Their predisposed condition almost makes extinction seem preferable.
<I have spoken all I can on this matter. I will come again tomorrow. We will talk again then. About something else.>
Twelve Days Ago
"I'm telling you, that system is not going to have any gas giants. Just look at that binary. A neutron star and a red giant, and all those close orbits. Even if there were any gas giants here ever, stellar wind has stripped away their atmospheres by now. Nothing but a bunch of barren superplanets by now." The engineer grunted as they turned the sensor display to face their companion, tapping the screen emphatically.
"We won't know until we arrive, and you had better hope there's a gas giant left. Otherwise we'll have to drill and distill caslon gas from an asteroid or something, and that will take weeks. Do you fancy being stuck here for that long?" The pilot shot back. "I'm just trying to be positive."
"We'll see who's right in a minute. Coming out of FTL in ten, and synchronizing with torsion factors in nine, eight, seven..." The engineer strapped themselves into their seat with one hand while reflexively starting to flip switches on the crowded instrument panel above their head, the exact sequence so practiced they didn't even need to look. The ship dropped out of FTL moments later.
"Long range scans show NO gas giants! Ha!" The engineer grinned triumphantly as they turned to the pilot. "We may be stranded in this dump of a system for weeks now, but at least I get to say I Told You So!"
The pilot said nothing and frowned as they looked at the sensor readings. "Shut up. Does that body there look like some kind of super asteroid or something?"
The engineer craned their head to peer at the sensor readout. "That big thing there? I'm pretty sure that's just a moon. Probably drifted past the roche limit and was contorted by tidal forces."
"Then it would be oblong. That thing looks like it has spires. In fact, is that..." He paused for a moment. "...That's a starbase."
"No way. If it were a starbase, it would be giving off heat and energy signatures and all that good stuff. We'd have detected it from sectors away."
"I'm telling you, it's a starbase. I'm betting it doesn't have any power, but that's definitely a starbase! Look, we're in range for optical resolution. One second..." The pilot adjusted the sensor readout, setting the exterior sensors to focus on the unidentified object.
They both looked at the displayed image as the object filled the screen. The engineer gaped, while the pilot assumed a soft bemused grin. "I'll be damned." The engineer murmured. "That really is a star base."
The Universe
Virgo Supercluster
Local Group
Milky Way Galaxy
Eighty Million Years Ago...
<Amarok has refused to forestall the invasion of Baceran Prime.> The statement is delivered with a signed gesture of finality.
The leaders of the loose and unfriendly alliance of necessity were all convened via a private quantum hub, purposely built in a remote region of space specifically to prevent the Ennedi threat from discovering it. The unknown method the Ennedi used to procure intelligence had necessitated the architects to be summarily executed, and even those who were attending the conference itself would have to erase their memories of the proceedings. It spoke volumes, how the Ennedi threat was so pervasive that it was not safe to so much as plan a new offensive push for fear they would know and exploit the opening. It spoke even further, as to how nobody could fathom how they accomplished it. The Blendecs insisted that the Ennedi were not psionic, and did not possess psionic comms. The EOA QV-Sensors had already entirely picked apart the inner workings of every fielded device the Ennedi used. The Domodets had infiltrated the occupied worlds were they could, reporting all that they could see. Yet still, the massive crustaceans managed to outmanuever, outflank, and harry the coalition at every turn, with such immediate timing and precision it was almost as if they knew the coalition's plans even before they had been issued.
More than a thousand worlds had been overrun by voracious spawn, and more than a hundred fleets neutralized by their machinations. Though the coalition retained a massive technological advantage, the Ennedi possessed an undeniable tactical edge that more than made up for the gap. A war of seven powers, with six on the defense and being pushed back, was a thought too ludicrous to have been conceived of a mere core-cycle ago.
The delegation that had been sent to reason with Amarok had been the last chance for peace. The Admiral of the Ennedi Legacy Armada had been willing to compromise, appearing to possess an innate sense of empathy for those they were tasked to destroy. They were already three hundred and fifty hours old. In ten more they would die of natural causes, and the next Admiral would not be as pliable. Only one viable option remained.
<The Immaculate Scholars still hold that your proposed solution is madness itself.> The Blendec Pedagogue's holographic image signed, four tentacles twirling through the air and humming with electrochemical signals. <This coalition cannot, in good conscience, seriously contemplate the complete eradication of our aggressors. The Immaculate Scholars merely need more time to devise a new tactical advantage that the Ennedi will be unable to adapt to.>
<As you said they would be unable to adapt to the last four gizmos you spineless heaps devised.> The Domodet Monarch's image tilted their serpentine head crested with plumes of feathers to the side as they spat. <Already your own capital shall soon be lost, and still you insist on waiting?>
<The Prime Accord Body has discerned that even should the Immaculate Scholars devise an efficacious means of defeating the Ennedi fleetgroups, unless our own forces can rout their dish fleets at a seventeen to one ratio the momentum of their offensive front will carry through to the core of three more coalition territories. Projected chances of victory past the next quarter-cycle if they do is less than four point three six percent.> An EOA Icosahedron's avatar chimed. <Although the Prime Accord Body notes the Immaculate Scholars' dissent, it must cede that there is no other viable means to ensure the survival of the coalition.>
<The Ennedi have forced us down this path. Their own malign intent shall be to blame for their downfall.> The comically small Lernaean Exalted Leader waved rhythmically as it floated on unseen currents. <How can you, or any of us, hold out for any hope for the Ennedi? How can we value their lives at all? They themselves do not value their own lives, or those of others, for they know no destiny save death.>
<The little Exalted morsel is right.> The Domodet Monarch snorted. <Their lives are so short. The only purpose they know is to drag everything into the abyss along with them out of spite. Amarok was a freak of nature, and we won't see their like again.>
The Blendec Pedagogue's tendrils remained limp, and they signed nothing.
<If the Immaculate Scholars do not accede to the Coalition Accord Body, it will be forced to seize control of Site Ikaroa by force.> The spinning image of the Icosahedron buzzed.
<Even your own creations see more sense than you do, Pedagogue.> The Domodest Monarch hissed. "The Ennedi threat dies now. Choose. Either stand with us, or we will move through you.>
<It will be a mercy to them.> The Leraean Exalted chimed. <They know nothing but rancor and spite. Their lives are tragedies. End their spiral of madness.>
The Blendec Pedagogue remained still.
888888888888
Enned System
Starbase Alraune
Amarok patiently waited for death.
Patience was not a common Ennedi characteristic. They had so little time to start with, any waste of it, however small, was akin to a small existential crisis. As it happened though, naval warfare waged in a Galactic theater had spans of time as long as several hundred pulse-cycles where one was expected to do nothing but wait. As Admiral of the Legacy Armada, Amarok had spent most of their life waiting, as most of their tactical and strategic decisions had been made almost instantly, and carried out just as quickly. The prospect of being forced to sit still while the biological clock wound down to the final toll before The Nothing After Death was one they were used to.
Amarok was overwhelmed by a sudden sense of awe. A quality not quite as unfamiliar to the Ennedi as patience, but usually only experienced once. Fully glutted Enedi tended to find awesome sights uninteresting. Seeing a planet from space for the first time. Standing at the edge of a ravine. Surveying a massive alien fleet on long range scanners. Dipping into the corona of a star. All of the Ennedi as one though, shared the common experience of awe in the last moments of life. It was therefore fitting that the word for Awe in Ennuic was the same for Solace and Terror simultaneously.
The display before Amarok suddenly erupted with alarms and signals at the same time as the station's alarm nodes began to go off. Amarok calmly took it all in. Every Ennedi starship and facility on the planet below was sending tightbeam communiques stating that all FTL-dependent mechanisms had stopped functioning. Moments later, several quantum-channeled messages arrived. While the Ennedi could and did use quantum superpositioning for long range FTL communication, it was less favored than Subspace communiques ever since the Blendecs had devised a mechanism that could disrupt particle systems with existing eigenstates, so receiving so many Q-messages at once was unusual. As with the colony and ships in-system, nearly every single fleet across the many battlefronts were reporting that FTL had gone offline and was not functioning. Every Ennedi colony and ship in the galaxy was stranded.
The technical team on standby designated with addressing abrupt issues exactly like the one currently occurring sent a report mere pulses later. All Subspace-based FTL mechanics were being suppressed by extremely subtle spacetime perturbations seemingly induced by previously absent feedback generated whenever a subspace aperture was opened. Every variant form of FTL, those used by the enemy factions, continued to function normally. Including the EOA variant, which was nearly identical in nature and execution to the Ennedi variant.
When Amarok received multiple reports confirming that several enemy fleets had just exited FTL and were engaging Legacy forces, it was fairly easy to figure out what had happened.
'How could they have done this? Another machination of the Blendecs?' Amarok thought almost placidly as the vision in their four eyes began to dim. 'There was no report of any such measure. No warning. Except for...' Cold and ineffectual anger flashed through Amarok's mind as they found their answer. '...Ikaroa. So it was more than the delusions of a fanatical Blendec. Why did they wait until now to use it...? It does not matter. I must inform my replacement immediately. Nobody else knew...'
Amarok reached out towards their console with a maxilliped, which slumped and fell short as they soundlessly died.
888888888888
Baceran Prime
Seven Years Later
<We received a communique from Cebol one point three turns prior. They found and sterilized the last Ennedi colony four point seven turns prior.>
The Blendec Pedagogue stared listlessly at the horizon. Beyond the golden walls of the Blendec capitol, the barren, strip-mined wastes of their homeworld stared back. <Are they sure?>
<They are certain. The Dark Space Array has failed to detect any Ennedi vital signatures remaining in the galaxy.> The holographic image of an EOA Icosahedron replied.
<Did we ever find their Homeworld? Enned?>
<Cebol indicated that the Ennedi home system had not been positively identified. They hypothesized that due to the intentional similarities in established Ennedi system infrastructure, coalition forces may have unknowingly sterilized the homeworld several cycles prior. The Prime Accord body reached consensus with Cebol within the parameters of their proposal.> The Icosahedron's words were indefinite and vague, but that was as exact and precise as EOA language could be. That they had lain out the statement so simply indicated that what they said in actuality was an utter certainty.
The Pedagogue signed nothing as they turned and retreated into their sanctum.
They spent the next fifty eight years in isolated meditation.
888888888888
Letona
Sixteen Thousand Years Ago...
"...and you say their extermination was a necessity?" The interpreter asked.
<...Yes.> The Pedagogue signed. <The act was both one of survival and one of mercy. The Ennedi, as a species, were driven to still all life in the Universe.>
"Why? Was it an ideology of theirs? A religion perhaps?"
<No.> The Pedagogue's tendrils were still for a moment as it thought. <...How could they value life, when death was their destiny?>
"I don't understand."
<...They were a tragic species. Their predisposed condition almost makes extinction seem preferable.
<I have spoken all I can on this matter. I will come again tomorrow. We will talk again then. About something else.>
888888888888
Twelve Days Ago
"I'm telling you, that system is not going to have any gas giants. Just look at that binary. A neutron star and a red giant, and all those close orbits. Even if there were any gas giants here ever, stellar wind has stripped away their atmospheres by now. Nothing but a bunch of barren superplanets by now." The engineer grunted as they turned the sensor display to face their companion, tapping the screen emphatically.
"We won't know until we arrive, and you had better hope there's a gas giant left. Otherwise we'll have to drill and distill caslon gas from an asteroid or something, and that will take weeks. Do you fancy being stuck here for that long?" The pilot shot back. "I'm just trying to be positive."
"We'll see who's right in a minute. Coming out of FTL in ten, and synchronizing with torsion factors in nine, eight, seven..." The engineer strapped themselves into their seat with one hand while reflexively starting to flip switches on the crowded instrument panel above their head, the exact sequence so practiced they didn't even need to look. The ship dropped out of FTL moments later.
"Long range scans show NO gas giants! Ha!" The engineer grinned triumphantly as they turned to the pilot. "We may be stranded in this dump of a system for weeks now, but at least I get to say I Told You So!"
The pilot said nothing and frowned as they looked at the sensor readings. "Shut up. Does that body there look like some kind of super asteroid or something?"
The engineer craned their head to peer at the sensor readout. "That big thing there? I'm pretty sure that's just a moon. Probably drifted past the roche limit and was contorted by tidal forces."
"Then it would be oblong. That thing looks like it has spires. In fact, is that..." He paused for a moment. "...That's a starbase."
"No way. If it were a starbase, it would be giving off heat and energy signatures and all that good stuff. We'd have detected it from sectors away."
"I'm telling you, it's a starbase. I'm betting it doesn't have any power, but that's definitely a starbase! Look, we're in range for optical resolution. One second..." The pilot adjusted the sensor readout, setting the exterior sensors to focus on the unidentified object.
They both looked at the displayed image as the object filled the screen. The engineer gaped, while the pilot assumed a soft bemused grin. "I'll be damned." The engineer murmured. "That really is a star base."
In
Stellvia [Always Accepting] (Hey, these things in parentheses are hip, right?)
→
11 yrs ago
Forum: Nation Roleplay
I can oblige.
Post incoming within the hour.
Post incoming within the hour.
Good point, I entirely forgot about that. I'll go ahead and put in an edit. Looking at the actual post though, Ignis isn't doing much other than going up to Kuro's legs like a stray Dragondog. I suspect Kuro would simply be inclined to ignore Ignis for the moment, at least until Ignis sets his pants on fire or something.
EDIT: Added a small line in the first paragraph.
EDIT: Added a small line in the first paragraph.
Short post JUST before we shift locations, since it occurs to me Kuro would in fact be exactly that paranoid.
This way, if we HAVE to shift in the next post, we can also say the two scouted the area. Fully precluding the possibility that the Mansion is already secretly full of Inquisitors. Yay.
This way, if we HAVE to shift in the next post, we can also say the two scouted the area. Fully precluding the possibility that the Mansion is already secretly full of Inquisitors. Yay.
"We should keep in mind the path we will take to get to Lord Drake's estate. The inquisition could be more involved in this than we think."
"Indeed." Kuro said, coolly turning his gaze to Drake, not even sparing a glance for Ignis as the spirit of heat eyed him from ground level. The Rider gave the man the same brief, sweeping glance he had given Ryza and Eli back in the pub. Sir Drake's manor is also a fair distance apart from the Guildhouse. If the Inquisition were sufficiently prepared for all eventualities they would do well to have a patron in the bar who could lure those involved to a private, secluded location after gaining their trust, where an Inquisition Squad could then detain and process them with minimal fuss. Sir Drake can assist us in moving discretely there, but some of us should scout our destination directly to ensure we are not going to walk into an ambush."
Kuro turned to where Ryza and Alan were standing, finally looking at Alan for the first time. "You there, Hawk. Scouting and reconnaissance is one of of your band's functions, is it not? Are you willing and able to reconnoiter the destination site for us discreetly?"
All of this was said in clear earshot of Drake himself, but the Rider did not seem particularly perturbed with his openly voiced, bare-faced allegation that the Serpent might possibly be a turncoat.
@Darkmatter is the GM. An NRP is an acronym for Nation Role Play, which you are probably at least peripherally aware of. They are roleplays where posters write for entire distinct nations in a large world setting.
"Erm... excuse me... Miss? I really couldn't care less about the reasons behind your... rather emphatic use of flammable liquids... but you're... erm... sort of in my way... and I need to get home... because it is dark out... and I like my sofa quite a lot..."
'Shit.' Charis concluded emphatically as she finished emptying the can of gasoline over the warehouse HVAC. It was set right against the exterior wall, next to a nearly overflowing garbage dumpster and a side entrance. In her mind, it was practically begging to be set on fire. She had not been expecting anybody to be around though - the haulers at her warehouse had all been clocking overtime to make their appointments with demise. The entire warehouse district should have been deserted save for a few security guards.
Turning her head slowly, Charis peered over her shoulder. Standing there was a bum wearing a gas-mask and reeking of nicotine, a bulging backpack and a battered axe strapped to his back. At first Charis imagined he was an axemurderer who had seen some woman in a deserted warehouse district in the dead of night and decided to axemurder her. His words though, however muffled, convinced her that perhaps he really was just a bum. Maybe some kind of veteran if the gas mask was any indication.
"No, you've got entirely the wrong idea." Charis said calmly as she moved the gas can to her left hand and tossed it away, reaching into her jacket with her right. With her back turned, Jackson wouldn't have a good view of what she was doing. As she drew her flechette gun, she turned to her left in order to minimize the time she needed to point the muzzle at Jackson, who was treated only to a brief look at the quad-barreled end as it peaked around her side.
"You're not going anywhere." Charis said as she flashed a smile at Jackson, pressing the trigger and firing hundreds of steel flechettes straight at his chest. The weapon itself gave no report, only accompanied by a faint hissing noise as the metal spikes flew through the air.
Ok, I've waited long enough. Don't want to keep everyone waiting. Putting up my post now.
In
Stellvia [Always Accepting] (Hey, these things in parentheses are hip, right?)
→
11 yrs ago
Forum: Nation Roleplay
@Terminal If I didn't know you better, I'd swear you're paid to advertise for them. Chatzy link for TTL, now a chatzy link for this? O.o
Actually that was only because Riddle specifically asked if we could have a chatroom for the judging process.
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