Avatar of Th3King0fChaos

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Recent Statuses

2 yrs ago
Current I play both sides so that I always lose.
1 like
2 yrs ago
Can your Father still claim you if the Mail Man delivered you?
2 likes
2 yrs ago
I challenge you to a game of Paradox Billiards Vostroyan Roulette Forth Dimentional Hypercube Chess Strip Poker!!!
1 like
2 yrs ago
So I realized that the highest honor anyone can get is not to get a Nobel Peace prize, nor getting your name taught throughout history. It's being made into an Anime Character with giant boobs.
3 likes
2 yrs ago
So where do I go after Elysium? I just made it through after beating a Chad-dude and his giant burly friend with horns at a break dancing contest.

Bio

About me:
I am an amateur writer at best as I have had a bit of experience writing short novels and stories as a side gig (Don't ask me for help unless you are desperate. I barely know what I'm doing half the time!)

I mostly Rp on medieval fantasy, modern fantasy, and modern slice of life. However, I am always willing to do anything. And I have been roleplaying for about 8 years now.

I have a pretty open schedule right now, other than planning DnDs, and looking for a job. (Still praying that one day I can get payed to play DnD or by playing videogames, but I haven't made a dollar yet).

I am normally a very easy guy to get a hold of. If you use one of the following contact info I should get back to you within 10 minutes, if you use discord just @me and I can respond within a quick time (If I'm at my keyboard that is).

AND PLEASE IF YOU THINK I FORGOT AN RP MESSAGE ME!!!! I CAN GARENTEE THAT I FORGOT AS I WAS PROBABLY PRAYING TO THE GODS OF CHAOS THAT I WOULD BE ABLE TO WIN THE NEXT GAME OF MAGIC I'M GOING TO PLAY!!! (In all seriousness I'm very forgetful and scatter brained, just send me a message and I should be able to pump out that post in no time)

Contact info:
nuk3clearsoldier@gmail.com (I know, don't judge)

Discord is- KingChoas #4030 (Ain't too hard isn't it?)

If you need my phone number: First off, who are you and why? Second off, Please don't spam me or I will find you and shove your phone down your throat and make you puke it up and do it again into a trash compactor and watch you cry. Then buy you a new phone. (Just saying I hate spam, also if you get my number you are the 3rd person to every get my phone number, next to my mom and my sister.)

The partners I am looking for right now is people who are chill and relax as well as just some genuinely nice people to chat to and play with. Any style is fine, just be ready as there are time where it will take some time for advanced posts will take me a few days.

Other than that I like to listen to music and anytime someone asks me to do a thing, 90% of the time I will just do it as I just don't care enough. But I will not sing, my voice is garbage and I am not confident enough to even try to learn now.

Most Recent Posts





Hunters and Hunted



Desmond Catulus




Desmond's eyes opened, he took a breath in, and found himself...digging through...bramble?!

Desmond subconsciously began to wince in pain, yet he found as he moved twisted in the bramble, if felt...good? It felt like it scratched just hard enough to itch the back, yet not hard enough to hurt. Desmond was curious, he began to rummage through the bramble, seeing what was within, yet before he could even reach in, he noticed something, his hand was different. He had a paw with extended claws, he turned his hands to him to see he had foot pads, with fur of black, and as he looked higher up his arm some white. Desmond began to rub his hands into the bramble, it didn't hurt, not even when he leaned into it, well, it did hurt, it just felt as if he didn't care.

Desmond then sensed something, a very powerful smell, he twisted his body to see a massive Direstork just a ways away. He tilted his head as he made his way over, every now and again pawing at the ground to see if the bird would respond, yet it looked to him. Desmond sighed, 'This had to be Eshiran's Eternal Hunt, and we were sent here as prey'. Laska forming as a giant bird was quite funny to him. 'Her big beak matching her big mouth', Desmond chuckled to himself.

Desmond began to cast his sight about, into the great wonders this world was. Great seas of green, winding rivers and deep valleys, comfortable hunting lodges, and in the very distance, a coliseum. Desmond pondered for a moment, 'Where to go? Hm, we might be trying to reach the coliseum, that, had to be where we had fully reached heaven'

Desmond nodded to himself before his ears picked up the snap of a gunshot. Multiple began to ring out as that confirmed it, this was the Eternal hunt, and they were in prey. Desmond gritted his teeth, it would be easy to fight if they were other animals, yet they were a Direstork, a large bird no doubt, yet it was not a beast who was intimidating, and a Honey badger. As a Honey badger, they can be fierce, yet being the size of a small child didn't do any favors.

Desmond began to look around, they needed to survive, and hopefully find a way to get a more appropriate physical form.

Desmond the Honey badger turned to Edyta the Direstork as he made multiple reverberating whiles and squeaks, 'If we show up at a Lodge, they'll maybe think twice in shooting us', as he began to move towards one of the lodges. They needed to survive, this is the only chance they had in doing this, so they needed to do this smart. First, they needed to figure out where the shots were coming from, then they need to move to a place with more people. They may be hunters, however, if they show human signs in a place where the hunters may not fire, it could give them some way to find what they needed to do here.




Casted Into the Deep



Marz Mohfolk




"I CAN'T SWIM!"

A loud slash was made the moment Marz hit the water as he sank beneath the waves. Marz felt himself sink deeper and deeper into the water. Marz began to look around as he realized he was only going further and further into the water. He drew in the energy of the waves as he began to propel himself up towards the light, where the moment he broke the surface he came out like a majestic beast of the sea. His long majestic hair and beard flowed as he landed back into the water.

Where he proceeded to start drowning again.

He proceeded to perform this same dance with the sea over and over again as he evaded cannon fire and figured out where the land was. Thankfully it seemed all he needed to do was follow where multiple students who began to move the large crates. Marz performed his majestic swimming all the way towards the beach, whereupon launching himself out of the water one more time, he flew for a moment and landed with all the grace a rock being spiked into the sand would.

Marz began coughing up water as he looked around, "So, how was my swimming?"

Marz began to stand up as he used kinetic and magnetic magic to pull the water off his body. Once Marz made sure he was fine he began to intertwine his magics to begin pulling sand and water together to create a mound of sand, thick and large to give them some haven if the cannon fire was to turn on them.

Scrapyard Brawl





The Phoenix Hawk was scorched and burned, the once white and gray paint that covered the machine was now marked with black scorch marks on the back and across the armor. The machine whined and groaned as it had been put through much punishment that it was not ready to forget. Yet it carried on, finally into warmer pastures as the scrapyard that the Green Knights had taken up to be their base of operations was now in sight. Even though it was ram shack in comparison to the many more illustrious places the Green Knights had found themselves in before this entire endeavor. There was a faint feeling of comfort from it, at least it was not in some dark cave that could barely keep the heat in.

As the Phoenix Hawk finally moved into the scrapyard, the great machine seemed to sigh as it began to lean back into its' bay. the great machine almost looked to have slumped down once the reactor was shut down. The cool air began to warm quickly around the machine as it seemed to release all the stress it had accumulated within the past day. The man within the machine let out a sigh as he adjusted his helmet and began to gather his things before leaving the great machine.

Tarak took hold of his bag as he began to pass it through the hole where another person stood to take hold of it and pull it out before assisting Tarak with his own exit. His size has been an issue in several machines, often many had to be modified to fit him, and the Phoenix Hawk was no exception. Tarak shimmied his arm and shoulder through first, then his head, then his other shoulder and arm, shifting and switching till he was able to slip out far enough to finally yank himself free.

Once out, Tarak sighed and began to head down from the scaffolding, beginning to scratch at his neck as he began answering the off question here and there as he made his way down, but kept it light. It was not until he made it to ground level the itching stopped. Tarak's eyes flashed and flickered, he felt incredibly uneasy, this never happened to him before. The itching normally required him to go to great lengths to stop if not wait for it to subside after an hour. Yet in this moment, it was gone.

Then, Tarak felt what could be described as a baseball bat slam him directly in the stomach and bring him down to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. Through gritted teeth and shock, he began to yell out himself as he took to defending himself before lashing out at his assailant.

Most of the Misfits were in shock, many watched in horror as they didn't even think something like this would happen, not now, not in the middle of a mech bay.

Yet some soon began to get their head wrapped around the situation.

Many stayed out, some assuming this was some misunderstanding or that one of them deserved what was to come.

Others instead brought themselves back and were not going to let it stand.

The music blared out louder and louder making it hard to tell who was yelling, or why.

Something Found and Lost


The quiet sound of hammering filled what was a dark void, it was a darkness that seemed to calm the mind. Within the nothing, a person began to form within, slowly it was from the form of a man, then upon the skin, scars began to etch themselves, across the hands, the arms, the legs, and they began to cross the back in countless ways. Scars that were old, marked, and deep as they reached further and further up, as upon the back of the man's neck was a strange tattoo that slowly faded away to show then another scar, one that stretched to nearly under each ear. Then hair began to form, black hair which the back fell past the shoulders and the rest covering the eyes, the ears, and began to float in the ethereal nothing.

The hammering began to grow louder, as within the nothing formed a man, one who had many and few names; Young Wolf, Genius, Hunter, Fool, Faceless, Heartless. The hammering began to grow as within the nothing light pierced through, there stood the man in a workshop, hammering away at what seemed to be an intricately designed cylinder. At first, one would assume that was all it was, but as he picked it up and looked at it, what seemed to be intricate and delicate grooves dug into the metal with multiple holes that seemed to be drilled through the cylinder that goes the length of the piece. As he manipulated it and looked into the piece images filled his mind. First were images of the man running through a lively city, filled with melons that many others tried to claim, with him scooping up many as he had a big smile on his face.

Next came the many gorgeous views within this almost enchanted forest. Large almost impossibly tall mushrooms that bent to his command, moved to his will as he called not only upon mushrooms but the forest itself and even many animals which ran and moved with him. Within his dark armor and outfit the man could see past the mask, the hood, and the helm, he had such a great big smile, he laughed like a child and seemed to almost play within the forest. Seeming to even forget what was happening around him as all he did was play pranks on those within the forest and laugh.

Soon the forest faded as then it showed the same man now sitting at a table as he began to design some kind of strange contraption that looked like a large cannon pointing down, as he gleefully talked to the many people around him. Even into the dead of night there he was building the contraption, as the day came, they had this machine, that at first seemed to fail, yet at the moment it needed, everyone loaded up to the contraption and launched off, flying high, far higher than many as they reached a height that could only be said to be tamed by Dragons and the gods, and there the man had a smile so big that it seemed like his face was pulled back, it was as the force that was exerted was so great it forced everyone to be plastered to their seats.

The visions continued to fill the man's mind, fights that he thought he died in, different forms he had thought he took, then he remembered the tragedy, the death of an incredibly important and respected man in the city, and then things began to devolve into chaos. Sides were drawn, wars were spoken onto the wind, and strange events continued to happen. For the man, he had done things he believed were right, he's done the right things, he's followed his own beliefs, and he has chosen his course in life.

He knew…

He knew what he stood for.

He knew what type of man he was.

He was someone who would do what he believed was right. May it be good or not, that was for others to decide, but he did what he thought was right, what he knew would help himself or those he cared for, and nothing more.

There he then stood, on the grounds of a great and ominous keep, with a tower that reached the sky. A fog that covered the ground and stuck to the lungs, and a horrid feeling of uneasiness. Within there were horrid monsters, monsters that took different forms of animals, illusions that made themselves so real that they could damage the body, injure the mind without ever touching the body, and perform tricks to madden the mind.

Yet, almost like it was expected, he made it out of those deadly situations. By the skin of his teeth, from the bare moment before he would die, from just a second before he would lose consciousness, yet a moment passed and he rose again, now entering the almost looming tower in earnest.

There he moved up the tower, with friends he seemed to laugh with.

There they met a man, far stronger than his years aged him, and far more spry than his age proved, he was a monster in human flesh and fought like a devil.

As did the intrepid trio.

The 3 fought like mad, they attacked a man who seemed to fly and move through space like nothing, appearing and disappearing like the breeze. And yet the three fought and performed the greatest attack they could.

They combined their power as the Young Wolf, the one who struggled against everything, pulled his power, and laid it all down for then a friend to perform the deed.

There he fell, passing out and entrusting what was to be, a moment to remember.

Yet it was one he could not forget.

When he awoke from his slumber.

From the darkness.

He saw there stood a friend, and on the ground, another perished.

The man stood looking at the friend as they called out his name holding out an apple, there the man took it, looking at it as he sighed.

And took a bite.

Smoldering Grace


Marz found himself in a strange scene, he had found the city he had wished to become a student of since the last year's trials in a state of smoldering chaos. The fighting was over, the injured had either been taken care of or passed, the dead were being moved, the victors cried out, and the losers sulked or quietly laid in their piles, ready to be buried or burned.

Marz recounted the days as he sat down, resting after everything that happened, from the start, to the Trials. An event Marz had wished to join when Shortlisted first was being formed, yet he was passed over when the team was formed, and he had to watch. This year was different, he joined the school in earnest and had participated in the many games. From the simple Cherune game where they were to steal from each other small boxes that lead them to treasure to give themselves a leg up in the final rewards. Or the eventful race that the Dragon always provides. Yet where some of the most heated moments came from when Mano-e-Mano was lined up.

Marz sighed as he thought about the events that transpired during that time. It was no more than a week ago since the events happened, yet it felt like an eternity and it felt as if the world had set its eyes upon the event and all evil sprung from it with their own machinations. Many who looked upon the combat that kids were doing and had their own plans. Marz could not say what all of them were, yet for him, he remembered his fights and nodded as he thought about his strength, he himself knew he was strong, he was always told he was strong and he proved it, he had gained many accolades in many combat sports, yet here he had learned he was only that, strong. Then there were many truly scary people, even in the school where they were all learning together. Marz sighed as he looked to the Forked Tower where there lay pieces of rubble, ruined stone that was once said never to have been tarnished.

Marz had finally made his way back to his shop, a place that had found some reprieve, he had made sure to keep it protected before he had even thought to walk away from it. Some of the building was slightly charred, pot marked because of acid rain, and stone being chipped from the commotion. Within he felt it was still warm, reminding Marz, that no more than a few hours had passed. What to him felt like days of defending his own forge, multiple houses in which he knew that other Hegelans had lived, and then entering the Forked Tower with Cal. All these things, and not more than a few hours passed for him. Marz made his way to the forge, quietly swiping his hand as the fires ignited, burning the little bit of fuel that was there, he looked into the fire and sat upon his anvil, feeling it heat up slowly as the heat traveled through the many pipes within the forge to keep the many workstations heated.

He let the anvil heat, the pipes being able to transfer the heat well from the small fire Marz lit to the anvil that was a few feet away, it felt comforting, the heat of the forge, after the cold realization that the school has permanently changed, and all he can do is watch.




Raging Inferno






The Phoenix Hawk slammed down, whiffing a crashing fall onto the Crusader which then tried to box with the Phoenix Hawk, yet whiffed their blows against the ever agile Phoenix Hawk and then began running with great speed to try and meet the other Green Knights. The Phoenix Hawk then turned, and like a roaring fire, began to run towards the bridge itself, pulling up its guns as the moment it hit the bridge, the Phoenix Hawk's comms came alive and out came the voice of its pilot, "Hit the bridge!"

The Phoenix Hawk then let loose its weapons onto the bridge, letting them tear into the mech on the bridge to make it easier to move over the fallen mech, possibly as it's own disrespect, yet that is neither here nor there. The beams continued to be fired as the lasers cut across the scraps of the mech and then cutting into the bridge itself as it began dashing across the crumbling bridge that was being fired upon. The devastating power of the large and medium lasers that were enhanced and then made to become a deadly weapon, now chopped into the stone and ice like butter. Cutting deep gashes into the bridge in front of the Phoenix Hawk as it danced over its own destruction, leaving the jokers in the dust.




Lost But Not Forgotten




In collaberation with @Suicharte as Tommy


Lor began to descend below the sight of countless sails, the auburn sky played across the sea as the cool winds finally gave reprieve from the immense heat felt during the days of work within the forge. Lepdes was the last day the forge ran at full steam, and with the encroaching night, payment for a week's work was given. All that was left in Belleville’s Blackfield Arsenal was Tommy trying to make some extra money to cover his debts during the auction and subsequent spending habits, and Desmond doing end-of-week bookkeeping.

A sigh left Desmond’s mouth as he closed his work for the night, he turned his head towards Tommy who was doing the last bit of work on the wall of wooden boxes. Tommy had his fingers wrapped in slightly reddened bandages, as another dull thud was heard, a yelp, then a slight slam. Metal within began to clatter together for a moment as Tommy began to check the lid of the case, as he let the guns within be left in view. Desmond sighed at the countless boxes, countless hours of work, and countless more orders.

Desmond had made his way into the back office, using a little bit of magic to open a drawer, where he set his record books away. Desmond took a moment, lingering within his office for a moment before he nodded to himself as he began to open another drawer. He reached in and pulled out a bottle of clear caramel-colored liquid, as he walked out, and saw Tommy just finished closing up the last box. Desmond let out a whistle and said while holding up the bottle and lightly shaking it, ”Ayo, Tommy. Good work today”.

Something had changed within the young lad at the trials. He had come to this school as a true hedonist, living only by his pleasure and displeasure, and now, after the long ordeal of the trials, he had emerged a different man. The Soiree only exacerbated this. Even if he was in debt, he’d have never grafted like this to get out of it. He’d have stolen some merchant's horse or shanked someone in a back alley to resolve the debt. But here he was, working himself to the bone for a person he’d only recently considered a good friend.

He turned to Desmond, the man he’d battled alongside for several grueling rounds of temporally anchored combat and forced a grin, but the natural smile of the lad wasn’t there. The wheels in his brain hadn’t been greased since the party, forced to a stop by an emotion he hadn’t registered or felt in his eighteen years of living. Where he’d normally have jumped for a good bottle of booze, he sauntered towards the lad and gave him a crisp handshake, ignoring the sharp pain of the splinters and bandages.

“Cheers, lad. Surprised you keep that at ya work, but I guess ya need it on days like this.” he spoke, pulling away from the handshake and looking at his own palms. Rough as they were, he’d never noticed the deep imperfections more deeply than now. He shook his head and dragged a couple of the empty crates with a touch of kinetic magic, slouching on one while leaving one near Desmond if he fancied a crude, makeshift seat.

Desmond began to take a seat as he opened the bottle, the deep cut of the distilled spirit filled the air and cleared away the smell of dirt, sawdust, and oil. Desmond took the first drink and slightly winced, ”Shit”. Desmond took a second and he looked at the bottle as he passed it over to Tommy to take a drink.

While passing the bottle over, Desmond commented, ”It’s the first batch made from a new distillery opening up in Harrowend”.

Tommy clasped the bottle and immediately took a big swig. Normally it’d have stung. Normally, he’d have said ‘Damn, that’s some hard shit!’ or another witty one-liner. But he didn't. He swallowed, flinched a little as the burn went down his mouth and handed it back with nary a thought in his head. ”It’s not bad. I’d bust ya balls usually for havin’ somethin’ from the capital, but honestly, it’s good hooch. he spoke, stifling a yawn as he wiped a stray droplet that slid down the side of his mouth. He passed the bottle back, on the verge of saying something, but he knew that both of them weren’t trashed enough to get there yet.

Desmond chuckled as he took the bottle back and said, ”Good to hear, I’ll tell them that”. Desmond took another swing, the burning sensation left him quiet for a moment as he began to pass the bottle over to Tommy. Finally whipping the slight spit away from his mouth Desmond said, ”You did pretty good today. If you keep up the work like this you might be able to touch one of the machines when your fingers are sideways”. Desmond laughed as he looked out at the empty shop, the quietness that they found themselves in was peaceful, yet deafening.

”Bet some girls’d like that. he spoke plainly, chuckling a little to himself, and then cringing internally. He took another swig to hide it, and the burn didn’t hit as bad. Again, he passed it back and looked at Desmond with a curiosity he’d had since meeting the guy.. ”Y’know, I think we grew up similar. Ow’d you end up so smart? Knowin’ how all this shite works?” he paused, biting a hangnail off and spitting it to the side. ”Even the school doesn’t teach shit like this… you think some are just born smarter? Honestly, I don’t think I coulda managed to set this up with all the teachin’ in the world.” he smiled and laughed at his own comment, but it was painful to do so. When had he let himself grow so small, to compare himself to another? Why would he diminish his friend's accomplishments by saying that they were maybe a product of birth? As if his hard work wasn’t his own? Yet, he couldn’t take his own words back.

Desmond chuckled to himself, listening to Tommy as he took a long chug for a moment before breathing out a large sigh, the burning hit hard enough to take the breath from Desmond for a moment. After a burp, Desmond passed the bottle back before saying, ”I don’t think we grew up as much alike. I wouldn’t hope to have anyone to grow up quite like I did”. Desmond seemed to look off for a moment, quiet for just that moment as he thought about what to say. ”To not bum you out too much, I was more like a child soldier, without all the glamor. I needed to learn to be smart, I was taught by already-graduated mages, yeah, but…I was taught the basics of most things, but my work came first, I was taught to fight and kill, and then came the whims of my teachers. My learning might have been because I was born smart, maybe, but it was always in the pursuit of bettering my craft, either for killing, or being a mercenary”.

Desmond takes a moment then shrugs as he turns to Tommy, ”Besides, there are things you’ve done I couldn’t even see myself doing. It’s how life works, we’re set down our paths and we make it our own. You’ve done plenty yourself, just in different ways. Sure for smarts, I got you beat all day-”. Desmond laughs and snickers as he continues, ”-but I couldn’t think of anyone coming close to you in physical strength alone. And fighting? I’ve spent my entire life fighting men larger and bigger than me, nastier and stronger than me, willing to kill me for whatever reason, and all I could do is answer in kind”

Desmond laughed as he began to look off again, ”But you? You’re over there taking on monsters of even bigger proportions with nothing but what the gods gave you. Never leaving your hometown, being the biggest fish in the pond”. Desmond then lightly slaps Tommy on the arm, ”Most probably betted on someone like that losing every single time”, Desmond then gave out one last chuckle and a head shake, ”But not you. Ain’t nothing I could have ever done if I was saddled being put into your shoes. And even when I had a solo match, we had to team up just to pull out a win”.

Desmond smirked a little as he then looked back to Tommy, ”So smile a little more, and keep your head a little higher. The Gods know who you are, and the world has witnessed you”. Desmond then let out a silent sigh, he knew there was more, yet neither of them were even close to the end of the drinks.

Tommy sat and listened to him talk. The praise of others at the trials had ran hollow - half-hearted praise towards an underdog that never could have made it. But hearing it from this man, who’d come so far on his own feet, who’d suffered, genuinely did help. He clasped Desmond’s arm with his own, a firm pat this time. ”Sorry, bud. I shouldn’t have compared us. he spoke, shuffling and stretching, taking the bottle once more with a deep swig.

”We’re both fuckin’ brilliant, and we both won this whole thing. Against a buncha noble brats who’d turn their nose up at our craft. he giggled to himself, pacing around the room. ”Mighta been the first time someone told me to smile more. People usually complain about the shit eatin’ grin. as he finally bared it, a true smile for the first time in the night. He needed this pick me up, this drink, this chat. Times like this would ground a person, but they brought him back to where needed to be, the unshakable version of himself that he’d lost recently. He greedily swigged again before the bottle found itself in Desmond’s hands once more, as he clapped his face and shook his greasy, sweat-ridden hair.

”Truth be told brother, I’ve been feelin’ something I didn’t know existed. That girl at the party…Edyta… she’s still on my mind.” he spoke longingly, remembering the pale skin, the freckles, the hair, the dancing. Features that would have normally not been of note, but they were still as clear in his head as the time he was there. ”I thought love was some made-up shit that these rich kids wrote in their books. Like chivalry and all that garbage. But, I think it’s real. From one meetin’ at a party. Am I fuckin’ stupid? You ever felt like this?” he asked, shaking his head as he tried to comprehend it. Was it love? Obsession? And why was he pawning it off on his buddy like this. Loudmouthed and uncouth as he was, he’d have never shared a thought like this prior, even boozed up as he was.

Desmond listened quietly, thoughts were running in Desmond’s eyes as the moment Tommy finished his question, Desmond took a long chug, greedily taking down the spirit before hit tipped it back forward and breathed out a heavy heave of air. Desmond gave himself but a moment before he answered the question, ”Yeah, I’ve felt it”. Desmond looked to the bottle for a moment before passing it back. He was quiet and seemed almost lost for a moment.

Desmond then began to look up towards Tommy, wearing his smile again, ”So, what’s stopping you?”

Tommy sighed. ”I don’t know, to be honest mate. I’ve always lived in the comfort of my vices. This body o’ mine didn’t come free. My brain’s like a livewire, and I always sought comfort in pleasure. Gamblin, drinks, girls. But this shit’s different. And I don’t even know where - or who - she is.” He paused, twiddling his thumbs before meeting Desmond’s gaze once more, and the look he had upon his face was one he’d seen many times in his hometown. Sometimes in grieving mothers, oftentimes in gang brawls gone too far.

”You said you felt it. What was her name, Des?” he asked solemnly, taking another swig as he patted him on the arm. He knew this story didn’t have a happy ending, but that was why he wanted to hear it. He wanted to understand the risk to this feeling, and what it could cost him. He didn’t want to go in blind, as he had hundreds of times before to risk it all for a meager reward.



Desmond’s face changed, his smile began to fade as he took hold of the bottle for a moment and began to take a long gulp from it and passed it to Tommy, ”Yeah, I’ve felt love before”. Desmond nodded his head as he began to look down for a moment, a big sigh came from his mouth as he said, ”Her name was…Suki-”. Desmond let the moment rest as he looked to Tommy and saw it in his eyes, the look of wanting more.

Desmond then made a gesture for the bottle again, as once it was in his hand he took another drink, a long one before he handed it back, “I…I met her back when I was in my earlier years, around the time of the Hullendam-Kerremand war, I wasn’t the only kid picked up by my Mercenary Company. There were maybe about 10 of us, all misfit kids, orphaned, forgotten, abused, and used, from different lands but that did nothing to stop us. We were all…close, but there were 3 of us who were inseparable. Myself, a young kid named Louis, and…Suki. Suki, she…she was taken by pirates, sold off into slavery and then was rescued by my mercenary company, just like I was”.

Desmond wavered a moment, thinking what else to say, sitting there, in an empty forge with nothing but a bottle of whisky and a man he calls…friend, ”She…she, taught me things. I learned some of her native language, learned how to make instruments out of leaves and tree branches, and learned how to trust people…I…I…I-uhm-I learned a lot. Just…things happened, and I…I lost her”.

A little water came into Desmond’s eyes as he lightly wiped it away before he said, ”So yeah, uhm, it’s…hard, sometimes, those pains, just kinda come and…I guess if you’re looking for something from this…I guess, it’s something powerful, it can heal but it can also crush”. Desmond cleared his throat, something was forming from the emotions that was dredged up when he saw the emotions on Tommy,.

”If anything…”, Desmond begins to swallow the saliva filling his mouth, the dryness seemed to almost reach his throat as he seemed to become lightly raspy, ”I guess…just-”, Desmond seemed to be nearly choking on his own words, ”-Just…don’t leave anything unsaid. Don’t leave things to what-ifs”.

Tommy stood up abruptly from the crate, and pulled Desmond to his feet, giving him a firm hug and a pat on the back once he was finished spilling his heart out. They’d shared a lot here, quite frankly more than they’d shared with anyone in a long time, but wasn’t that the essence of friendship? ”You got it. That’s a creed I’ve always followed, thank ya for remindin’ me.” he said, pulling away and taking the whiskey from his friend and pouring a little on the ground.

”For her, n’ the others we’ve lost along the way.” he spoke respectfully, bowing his head before taking his own swig. He set the bottle on Desmond’s crate, and sat back down on his own.

Desmond took the abrupt hug and kept the little composure he had left. Taking hold of the bottle again, Desmond stops for a moment before he pours a bit more out and continues, ”And to those who we will find further along”. Desmond then takes a swig of the spirit and beaches before beginning to laugh.

How many years has it been since he had a heart-to-heart with someone like this? With a bottle of strong alcohol, in some dusty room, and about girls. What a strange life





Wings of Death






The Phoenix Hawk shook and rumbled, this moment of speed was enough to take a hit off of the already weakened heavy hitters. Within the machine, the man within was shaken violently, yet when he rose up once more. The visor shaded over once more as his head turned and saw he had enough fuel for 1 more jump.

The Phoenix Hawk then turned, smoke billowing from the back of mech as it then faced the Crusader behind it. The Phoenix Hawk brought its weapon up and fired both it and its medium lasers onto the Crusader to distract the mech for just a moment as then, the Phoenix Hawk flew once more, this time with malicious intent.

As the Phoenix Hawk flew, black smoke followed behind it, as these black wings guided the mech and it's pilot to near-certain death.

Th3King0fChaos': Mano e Mano


Desmond Catalus for The Raffscallions



Marz Mohfolk for Rock and Stone











The Phoenix Hawk took the lowest amount of hits in these couple of moments, if anything, there was hoping for more on his side to take some away from his comrades, yet Tarak didn't mind any. This just meant that he had more armor and hell to give. The Phoenix Hawk Jumped up from the kick from the Hunchback and took a few short-range missiles from the Panther, yet was not shifted or moved. It was time to continue the move and force them into a choice, as from that Jump the Phoenix Hawk shot up and away as it fired off its jump jets. Flying up and over the enemy and landed down onto CC9.

The moment the Phoenix Hawk touched down, it slid and turned on the icy ground, as the Phoenix Hawk took up its weapons and fired all of them directly into the back of the Hunchback. Letting loose the withheld malice within his laser weapons. Multiple green lasers began to launch out as they ripped through the cold air with screeches and whistles as the intense heat melted the snow and heated the air in an instant.

The lasers were to try and force the Hunchback to decide, death by lasers from the back or turn and get torn apart by missiles and the Von Luckner's cannon. Within the Phoenix Hawk known as the Black Phoenix, the pilot sat with music blazing yet was still. The pilot was unmoving, like a statue that only moved every now and again to activate the mech's controls. There was no motions from fury, anxiety, worry, nothing, just a cold unmoving machine. Yet for every little emotion the machine within had, the mech that was exposed to the heat of the weapons and the cold of the air exploded with unmatched emotion.

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