Sorry to see you go @Rin but thanks for letting me know!
Trinais Member
STATUS: To all my RP buddies, I'm gearing up for Camp Nanowrimo in July! My RPs will be slowing down this month and next. PM me for a quick response to an RP I'm in! 11 yrs ago
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- Trinais 12 yrs ago
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11 yrs ago
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To all my RP buddies, I'm gearing up for Camp Nanowrimo in July! My RPs will be slowing down this month and next. PM me for a quick response to an RP I'm in!
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11 yrs ago
Back to the grind! Unavailable to post from 3:30 to 10:30 PM EST! Your Fortune: You will find something lost long ago!
11 yrs ago
Working tonight! Unavailable to post from 3:30 to 10:30 PM EST! Stay classy, Guildies!
11 yrs ago
Work tonight! I'll be unavailable to post from 3:30 to 10:30 PM EST! Will check threads and posts during breaks.
11 yrs ago
Work tonight! I'll be unavailable to post from 3:30 to 11 PM EST!
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Bio
Roleplay addict, I work two jobs which unfortunately cuts back on my roleplay time.
In my limited free time I GM one ONLY WAR tabletop game, play a shopaholic Zeltron in a Star Wars game, and try to resist the urge to write long stories as the aftermath usually plunges me into a dark and unhappy depressed state.
Or maybe that's normal!
In my limited free time I GM one ONLY WAR tabletop game, play a shopaholic Zeltron in a Star Wars game, and try to resist the urge to write long stories as the aftermath usually plunges me into a dark and unhappy depressed state.
Or maybe that's normal!
Most Recent Posts
Ah, so divinity didn't solve hangovers in Asgard then. Good to know for next time they went out. If there ever was a next time. Last night's hijinks made the likelihood of another excursion drop to 0% on his radar. Not until they got some things hashed out with de Lacy.
"Now Riki, it's no trouble having you here. It's been a while since I got to spend time with anyone who has as much fun as you do. Except maybe me, and being alone doesn't count towards having a party." Parry took his own seat across from Rikive, scooping up from the egg whites bowl. His little loft kitchen upstairs wasn't as spacious as the downstairs one. But downstairs was reserved almost exclusively for cookies, PB&J, and fruit salads. Still, the granite countertops didn't clash too much with the vintage '50s fridge. "Plus your daddy would have my hide if I didn't watch out for you while in Midgard. He's the only one that could turn me in, so-"
Shut up, shut up, shutup!
Parry had already said enough, pushing the line up until as much as he'd told de Lacy, and de Lacy knew fuck all about Parry and still held his leash.
"Ah, I mean... listen Riki. There's a certain decor to be observed down here. Let's pretend that there's the humans, who we'll call Hanes, and there's people like you and me, who we'll call Gucci. Now between us and the humans, there's other people- shifters, fae, vampires, wizards and witches- who we'll call Nike.
"The Hanes fight each other over whether or not the Gucci exist at all, or whose Gucci is better. I'm not sure how much your daddy told you about Midgard, but it's probably for the best if you keep the knowledge of your ancestry from the Hanes if only to avoid unpleasant incidents. The Nikes know we exist, but they also know how valuable our bloodlines are. A powerful enough Nike could overtake you and use your bloodline to their own end. Similar to last night.
"So it's especially valuable not to reveal your parentage to anyone you meet from now on if you can avoid it. I would suggest telling a little white lie to anyone who asks- that you're one of the Elven folk with a bit of troll blood mixed in to explain the strength you have."
Parry hadn't so much as touched his eggs when his Apple Watch tapped his wrist. That was the thirty minute warning mark.
"For now, Riki, we must gird you for battle. For we must earn our living properly!" Plate of egg whites in one hand and OJ jug in the other, Parry slid out from his chair and sashayed his way into the hallway.
"I'm going to get properly changed. You need to shower and get ready for our guests. I'll leave your new battle garb on a hanger outside the bathroom door!"
========================================================
Parry had to search high and low through his closet for a set of jeans he knew would fit Rikive. His closet came back woefully empty, so he had to check his enchanted diaper bag to find what he was looking for.
The only pair of not-skinny-jeans he owned, a set of Levis, that would probably be a little short in the leg but definitely wide enough to accommodate Rikive's more muscular thighs and waist. No matter what, he would definitely not make her suffer through wearing a skirt or dress (especially since he didn't own one of either that wasn't scandalously short or flamboyantly colored) he left a casual cream colored blouse on the hangar as well, if she preferred it over the red tunic. The tags were still on the blouse, but Parry couldn't help himself. Sometimes a sale was a sale and shit would look good on SOMEBODY someday.
Parry shucked the maid uniform, the gimmick having run its course after seeing the initial shock on Rikive's face, for a more family friendly pair of skinny mom jeans and a button up Gucci shirt. His hair he tied back in the ponytail and then tucked into the neckline of his shirt.
Downstairs, Parry made himself busy putting the playroom in order- rocking horses, play carpets, stuffed animals, puppy toys, all where they needed to be. At 10 to the first of his little angels showing up, he took some time to water the little indoor vegetable garden by the front windows and checked the changing table for enough supplies. Finally, knowing how close it was a full moon tonight, he laid out a few wee-wee pads in the downstairs bathroom.
The front door had a solid knock on it along with rabid scratching noises only a few seconds later.
Selene Henderson stood on the other side of the door in a bright yellow sun dress and her hair done up in a tight bob. At her feet, three pups fully transformed into their wolf selves already, and from the look of her belly, two more were in the oven and ready to pop. Criscrossed across her chest were two full bags bursting with extra clothes, toys, and pre-cooked ribeye in tupperwear if the smell was any indication.
Behind her, Parry caught the Green family bringing their Fae daughter up the sidewalk, and Lady Geneveve had her own niece witch hoisted on her shoulders- that one was a right terror, powerful in magic with the self-restraint of a three-year-old.
The boys tumbled in and immediately set to a tug of war over a dog toy Parry had laid out on the playroom floor.
"Good morning Parry," Selene said, stepping inside the front door with her prodigious belly and bags. "The boys have been like that all night and I doubt they'll transform back anytime soon. But I brought clothes just in case. Tyler isn't completely housebroken yet, so fair warning."
"Warning received and prepared for," Parry said, helping her unhoist the bags from her shoulders. A loud crash sounded from the playroom as the tug-of-war found its way to the garden. "What time you thinking of picking them up?"
"I'm thinking 3 or so, just after shift ends. And I'll bring an extra pot with me from the hardware section. If it's not me, it'll be Bill around 5."
Parry nodded. "Sounds good to me. I'll wait for one of you two."
Time and pickup established, Selene headed back to her cat while Parry gave the three wolf pups, now covered in dirt, a quick withering glance. They had enough sense to look thoroughly ashamed before Riley pounced on the toy again and the melee started anew.
"Rikive! Your dogs are here."
"Now Riki, it's no trouble having you here. It's been a while since I got to spend time with anyone who has as much fun as you do. Except maybe me, and being alone doesn't count towards having a party." Parry took his own seat across from Rikive, scooping up from the egg whites bowl. His little loft kitchen upstairs wasn't as spacious as the downstairs one. But downstairs was reserved almost exclusively for cookies, PB&J, and fruit salads. Still, the granite countertops didn't clash too much with the vintage '50s fridge. "Plus your daddy would have my hide if I didn't watch out for you while in Midgard. He's the only one that could turn me in, so-"
Shut up, shut up, shutup!
Parry had already said enough, pushing the line up until as much as he'd told de Lacy, and de Lacy knew fuck all about Parry and still held his leash.
"Ah, I mean... listen Riki. There's a certain decor to be observed down here. Let's pretend that there's the humans, who we'll call Hanes, and there's people like you and me, who we'll call Gucci. Now between us and the humans, there's other people- shifters, fae, vampires, wizards and witches- who we'll call Nike.
"The Hanes fight each other over whether or not the Gucci exist at all, or whose Gucci is better. I'm not sure how much your daddy told you about Midgard, but it's probably for the best if you keep the knowledge of your ancestry from the Hanes if only to avoid unpleasant incidents. The Nikes know we exist, but they also know how valuable our bloodlines are. A powerful enough Nike could overtake you and use your bloodline to their own end. Similar to last night.
"So it's especially valuable not to reveal your parentage to anyone you meet from now on if you can avoid it. I would suggest telling a little white lie to anyone who asks- that you're one of the Elven folk with a bit of troll blood mixed in to explain the strength you have."
Parry hadn't so much as touched his eggs when his Apple Watch tapped his wrist. That was the thirty minute warning mark.
"For now, Riki, we must gird you for battle. For we must earn our living properly!" Plate of egg whites in one hand and OJ jug in the other, Parry slid out from his chair and sashayed his way into the hallway.
"I'm going to get properly changed. You need to shower and get ready for our guests. I'll leave your new battle garb on a hanger outside the bathroom door!"
========================================================
Parry had to search high and low through his closet for a set of jeans he knew would fit Rikive. His closet came back woefully empty, so he had to check his enchanted diaper bag to find what he was looking for.
The only pair of not-skinny-jeans he owned, a set of Levis, that would probably be a little short in the leg but definitely wide enough to accommodate Rikive's more muscular thighs and waist. No matter what, he would definitely not make her suffer through wearing a skirt or dress (especially since he didn't own one of either that wasn't scandalously short or flamboyantly colored) he left a casual cream colored blouse on the hangar as well, if she preferred it over the red tunic. The tags were still on the blouse, but Parry couldn't help himself. Sometimes a sale was a sale and shit would look good on SOMEBODY someday.
Parry shucked the maid uniform, the gimmick having run its course after seeing the initial shock on Rikive's face, for a more family friendly pair of skinny mom jeans and a button up Gucci shirt. His hair he tied back in the ponytail and then tucked into the neckline of his shirt.
Downstairs, Parry made himself busy putting the playroom in order- rocking horses, play carpets, stuffed animals, puppy toys, all where they needed to be. At 10 to the first of his little angels showing up, he took some time to water the little indoor vegetable garden by the front windows and checked the changing table for enough supplies. Finally, knowing how close it was a full moon tonight, he laid out a few wee-wee pads in the downstairs bathroom.
The front door had a solid knock on it along with rabid scratching noises only a few seconds later.
Selene Henderson stood on the other side of the door in a bright yellow sun dress and her hair done up in a tight bob. At her feet, three pups fully transformed into their wolf selves already, and from the look of her belly, two more were in the oven and ready to pop. Criscrossed across her chest were two full bags bursting with extra clothes, toys, and pre-cooked ribeye in tupperwear if the smell was any indication.
Behind her, Parry caught the Green family bringing their Fae daughter up the sidewalk, and Lady Geneveve had her own niece witch hoisted on her shoulders- that one was a right terror, powerful in magic with the self-restraint of a three-year-old.
The boys tumbled in and immediately set to a tug of war over a dog toy Parry had laid out on the playroom floor.
"Good morning Parry," Selene said, stepping inside the front door with her prodigious belly and bags. "The boys have been like that all night and I doubt they'll transform back anytime soon. But I brought clothes just in case. Tyler isn't completely housebroken yet, so fair warning."
"Warning received and prepared for," Parry said, helping her unhoist the bags from her shoulders. A loud crash sounded from the playroom as the tug-of-war found its way to the garden. "What time you thinking of picking them up?"
"I'm thinking 3 or so, just after shift ends. And I'll bring an extra pot with me from the hardware section. If it's not me, it'll be Bill around 5."
Parry nodded. "Sounds good to me. I'll wait for one of you two."
Time and pickup established, Selene headed back to her cat while Parry gave the three wolf pups, now covered in dirt, a quick withering glance. They had enough sense to look thoroughly ashamed before Riley pounced on the toy again and the melee started anew.
"Rikive! Your dogs are here."
We're cooking with gas now!
Parry paused drinking the carton of Tropicana, catching Rikive awake and in the kitchen doorway. The demigoddess looked healthy, whole, and not a bit pale. Hungover? Oh, fuck yes. But still alive which was all that mattered.
"Good morning my lovely snowflake," Parry said, putting the orange juice carton down. He slid to the side, closing the blinds for the kitchen windows as he spoke. "You did in fact fight someone. A few people, actually. A human at my party. A few more humans at Soho, though that was an arm-wrestling competition. You beat four lesbians and a dozen bears before getting bored. That was after car bomb number two."
The blinds closed, Parry turned around, finally giving Rikive a good glance at him through the now shaded kitchen. Parry Magnus had exchanged the sailor fuku from the evening before for a bizarre black skirted uniform. The Celestial's front was covered by an enormous ruffled apron, all frills and lace, spotted with specks of grease from the bacon in the frying pan.
Every now and then Parry liked to shock his overnight company in the morning to see if they'd stick around after. He considered the French Maid uniform to be going easy on Rikive. In fact, he'd left the feather duster upstairs in his bedroom.
"Winterthorn was drawn, I'm afraid." The bacon popped and fizzled, nearly done, and the celestial gave it a few more prods as he spoke to ensure a thorough job. "A soulless bit you last night after our final stop. I was going to wrap the arm but it was closed up by the time you hacked off half its skull. I disinfected it for good measure when we got back but you should be fine. Ah, listen, I was wondering if I could get your help with something today? I have to work most of the day and might need your help keeping things in order downstairs..."
Parry slid the bacon into a bowl of steaming hot scrambled eggs, fluffed with milk and butter, and popped out a couple of aspirin for Rikive from the medicine cabinet before sliding into his own seat and offering up the items as a potential bribe-slash-peace-offering.
"I mean. It shouldn't be all that bad for you. Just a few dogs to watch."
"Good morning my lovely snowflake," Parry said, putting the orange juice carton down. He slid to the side, closing the blinds for the kitchen windows as he spoke. "You did in fact fight someone. A few people, actually. A human at my party. A few more humans at Soho, though that was an arm-wrestling competition. You beat four lesbians and a dozen bears before getting bored. That was after car bomb number two."
The blinds closed, Parry turned around, finally giving Rikive a good glance at him through the now shaded kitchen. Parry Magnus had exchanged the sailor fuku from the evening before for a bizarre black skirted uniform. The Celestial's front was covered by an enormous ruffled apron, all frills and lace, spotted with specks of grease from the bacon in the frying pan.
Every now and then Parry liked to shock his overnight company in the morning to see if they'd stick around after. He considered the French Maid uniform to be going easy on Rikive. In fact, he'd left the feather duster upstairs in his bedroom.
"Winterthorn was drawn, I'm afraid." The bacon popped and fizzled, nearly done, and the celestial gave it a few more prods as he spoke to ensure a thorough job. "A soulless bit you last night after our final stop. I was going to wrap the arm but it was closed up by the time you hacked off half its skull. I disinfected it for good measure when we got back but you should be fine. Ah, listen, I was wondering if I could get your help with something today? I have to work most of the day and might need your help keeping things in order downstairs..."
Parry slid the bacon into a bowl of steaming hot scrambled eggs, fluffed with milk and butter, and popped out a couple of aspirin for Rikive from the medicine cabinet before sliding into his own seat and offering up the items as a potential bribe-slash-peace-offering.
"I mean. It shouldn't be all that bad for you. Just a few dogs to watch."
Parry didn't hesitate to gradually increase the intensity of the sunlight in his palms. He had killed before to protect the secret of his blood. He would kill again to keep that secret. If he didn't have a drunk Norse Goddess to get home ASAP, he would've smoked the lot of them. That, and he didn't want to scare off Rikive with a lethal display of magical power.
Rikive had no such inhibitions. She took off a good third of the undead's skull with a swing of her sword. Lethal to any human. Crippling to a vampire. Even with Celestial blood in his digestive system, Creeper wouldn't be able regenerate brain tissue anytime soon.
"Huh," Parry said, tilting his head to the side as he stepped over a bit of skull on his way to Rikive. He kept the tiny sun in one palm as he extended a hand to Rikive.
"You okay hun?" He asked, throwing one arm over his shoulders. "Let's walk together."
With Rikive inebriated and Parry keeping her standing, it might have been an opportunity for the vampire gang to attack and claim two intoxicating dinners at once. Parry didn't give them the chance. The orb of sunlight in his free hand went sailing over their shoulders, dropping into the midst of the vampire gang like a grenade before exploding in a bright and very unpleasant nova.
"Let's get you back hun," Parry mumbled. "One foot in front of the other..."
========================
8:47 AM
========================
When Rikive woke the next morning, she would find herself in Parry's study- what he affectionately called his guest bedroom. A futon covered by a feather down comforter, on top of a fleece blanket. Unlike his own bedroom, this setup would pass a blacklight inspection with flying colors. The rest of the room was reserved for boxes and supplies for young children. Industrial size boxes of crayons. Coloring book bought in bulk. Extra clothes for children aged 2 months to 2 years. All neatly set up in row upon row of shelves in a room eight feet by twenty.
It had a strange smell to it- a mix of Crayola, baby powder and freshly dried laundry.
But the scent would be supplemented by another, wafting up beneath the crack in the door- one of pig meat frying and crackling in its own juices.
Taped to the door in Norse Runes, a sign printed on computer paper was taped just above the door handle.
'Breakfast at 9. Bathroom is upside the right. Boiling water on righted drain. Wage earning at 9:30. Me used Google Translate.'
================================
"You're sure the survivor was a vampire?"
Parry spun an egg on his index finger, balancing the iPhone on his shoulder while his left hand kept pushing the bacon around in the pan. "You know, I'm not sure. Could a werewolf walk away with half its skull missing?"
"Do not be sarcastic, angel."
"Celestial," Parry corrected. "'Angel' has too many connotations. We're a non-denominational lot. But as you wish, your eminence. What do you require of me to get this cleaned up?"
de Lacy chuckled on the other end of the line. For any member of the supernatural community, being in de Lacy's debt was not a good place to be. Parry was already so far in the red he'd ceased to care.
"He won't be too hard to find. I'll have Billy Rikker find him and stomp the rest of his skull in. I want another pint in exchange."
Parry blanched. Cracked the egg. Dropped the yoke in the frying pan.
"A pint? Are you fucking kidding me? I'm a Celestial- not a cow you can milk."
"I've been bleeding you for a hundred years Parry. I'll keep bleeding you as long as it suits me. I'll have the needles delivered this afternoon and will pick up the goods tonight. The offender's skull will be delivered with my courier. Now if you'll excuse me, it's early and I have to get some sleep. We'll discuss your new... friend... in detail tonight."
de Lacy hung up without so much as a goodbye, and not for the first time Parry felt a little soiled at the thought of doing another transfusion level "donation" this month. He eyed the orange juice container on the table beside the two glasses. He opted to pour Rikive a full glass for whenever she woke up, then popped the top and started chugging.
Best to get the nutrients now before he paid de Lacy.
Rikive had no such inhibitions. She took off a good third of the undead's skull with a swing of her sword. Lethal to any human. Crippling to a vampire. Even with Celestial blood in his digestive system, Creeper wouldn't be able regenerate brain tissue anytime soon.
"Huh," Parry said, tilting his head to the side as he stepped over a bit of skull on his way to Rikive. He kept the tiny sun in one palm as he extended a hand to Rikive.
"You okay hun?" He asked, throwing one arm over his shoulders. "Let's walk together."
With Rikive inebriated and Parry keeping her standing, it might have been an opportunity for the vampire gang to attack and claim two intoxicating dinners at once. Parry didn't give them the chance. The orb of sunlight in his free hand went sailing over their shoulders, dropping into the midst of the vampire gang like a grenade before exploding in a bright and very unpleasant nova.
"Let's get you back hun," Parry mumbled. "One foot in front of the other..."
========================
8:47 AM
========================
When Rikive woke the next morning, she would find herself in Parry's study- what he affectionately called his guest bedroom. A futon covered by a feather down comforter, on top of a fleece blanket. Unlike his own bedroom, this setup would pass a blacklight inspection with flying colors. The rest of the room was reserved for boxes and supplies for young children. Industrial size boxes of crayons. Coloring book bought in bulk. Extra clothes for children aged 2 months to 2 years. All neatly set up in row upon row of shelves in a room eight feet by twenty.
It had a strange smell to it- a mix of Crayola, baby powder and freshly dried laundry.
But the scent would be supplemented by another, wafting up beneath the crack in the door- one of pig meat frying and crackling in its own juices.
Taped to the door in Norse Runes, a sign printed on computer paper was taped just above the door handle.
'Breakfast at 9. Bathroom is upside the right. Boiling water on righted drain. Wage earning at 9:30. Me used Google Translate.'
================================
"You're sure the survivor was a vampire?"
Parry spun an egg on his index finger, balancing the iPhone on his shoulder while his left hand kept pushing the bacon around in the pan. "You know, I'm not sure. Could a werewolf walk away with half its skull missing?"
"Do not be sarcastic, angel."
"Celestial," Parry corrected. "'Angel' has too many connotations. We're a non-denominational lot. But as you wish, your eminence. What do you require of me to get this cleaned up?"
de Lacy chuckled on the other end of the line. For any member of the supernatural community, being in de Lacy's debt was not a good place to be. Parry was already so far in the red he'd ceased to care.
"He won't be too hard to find. I'll have Billy Rikker find him and stomp the rest of his skull in. I want another pint in exchange."
Parry blanched. Cracked the egg. Dropped the yoke in the frying pan.
"A pint? Are you fucking kidding me? I'm a Celestial- not a cow you can milk."
"I've been bleeding you for a hundred years Parry. I'll keep bleeding you as long as it suits me. I'll have the needles delivered this afternoon and will pick up the goods tonight. The offender's skull will be delivered with my courier. Now if you'll excuse me, it's early and I have to get some sleep. We'll discuss your new... friend... in detail tonight."
de Lacy hung up without so much as a goodbye, and not for the first time Parry felt a little soiled at the thought of doing another transfusion level "donation" this month. He eyed the orange juice container on the table beside the two glasses. He opted to pour Rikive a full glass for whenever she woke up, then popped the top and started chugging.
Best to get the nutrients now before he paid de Lacy.
"I am here!"
"Well that narrows it down a bit," Parry huffed. This wasn't the best part of the city for sure. Every other building was boarded up, every alley held a dozen sleeping hobos, and every house might as well have fortified razor wire.
But the CRACK! WHUMP! of a solid body impacting a wall (what was it with Rikive and wall impacts, Parry wondered) that gave away her final position.
As Parry came upon a cluster of vampires in the midst of a feeding frenzy, one of them with its mouth over her arm and the scent of Celestial blood in the air, he was now officially fucking done with this night.
"Alright," Parry snapped, standing in the entrance to the alleyway, feet spread, sailor skirt and hair flapping in the night breeze, his hands clapped together as if in prayer.
"You're going to let the lady go." Parry snapped his eyes shut, then opened them, his usual baby blues and pearl whites replaced with the eerie glow of blue dwarf stars.
"You're going to puke up everything you just drank from her." He opened his palms, a small spark lighting between them, growing into an ember.
"Or I'm going to turn this into a tiny sun, and ain't nobody going to fucking go home after tonight." The spark grew in size, becoming the tip of a candle flame, then the head of a medieval torch, its light emanating UV rays that would start to cook the skin of any vampire that hadn't yet drank from Rikive.
"Well that narrows it down a bit," Parry huffed. This wasn't the best part of the city for sure. Every other building was boarded up, every alley held a dozen sleeping hobos, and every house might as well have fortified razor wire.
But the CRACK! WHUMP! of a solid body impacting a wall (what was it with Rikive and wall impacts, Parry wondered) that gave away her final position.
As Parry came upon a cluster of vampires in the midst of a feeding frenzy, one of them with its mouth over her arm and the scent of Celestial blood in the air, he was now officially fucking done with this night.
"Alright," Parry snapped, standing in the entrance to the alleyway, feet spread, sailor skirt and hair flapping in the night breeze, his hands clapped together as if in prayer.
"You're going to let the lady go." Parry snapped his eyes shut, then opened them, his usual baby blues and pearl whites replaced with the eerie glow of blue dwarf stars.
"You're going to puke up everything you just drank from her." He opened his palms, a small spark lighting between them, growing into an ember.
"Or I'm going to turn this into a tiny sun, and ain't nobody going to fucking go home after tonight." The spark grew in size, becoming the tip of a candle flame, then the head of a medieval torch, its light emanating UV rays that would start to cook the skin of any vampire that hadn't yet drank from Rikive.
Name: Matthes Greene
Age: 26
Sex: Male
Physical Description: Matthes stands just over two meters high, with the muscular build of a Coronis Yeoman. His brown hair has been cut into a military style but he maintains a single braid that has just passed six inches in length, mimicking the Fire Warriors who trained him.
History: Matthes' father, grandfather, and great grandfather worked their orchard outside of Kel'Shorin. The Tau colony city was only recently established, but the Greene family's roots go deep here. Their servitors have been replaced by Earth Caste drones, but the family continues to hue to the old ways. Worship the Emperor, follow the law, and be a moral man.
After the passing of his father, Matthes inherited the family orchard. His husband, Kristoph, moved in not long after. With the help of Xenos tech inside the Kel'Shorin city, the two of them welcomed a daughter, Anice, into the world together. Kristoph maintains the orchard with Anice and the drones while Matthes tended the herd of Grox there.
The Chosen One: While on a wargame patrol with his fellow Gue'vesa and their Shas'ui instructor, the squad encountered a tribe of feral Ogryn in the southern hemisphere. The Ogryn overwhelmed the squad in close combat, killing two, injuring four, and taking most others prisoner for "din-din!"
Matthes followed the Ogryn back to their lair while the survivors tended to their wounds, and used his markerlight to transmit information to the Tau relief force. With an accurate count of the enemy, their position, and the surviving prisoners, a Drone Sniper used the data to eliminate the Ogryn and free the prisoners.
Class: Battlesuit Pilot
Audition: Coming Soon.
Battlesuit: XV-25
Weapon(s): Burst Cannon
Support System(s): Vectored Retro-Thrusters
Age: 26
Sex: Male
Physical Description: Matthes stands just over two meters high, with the muscular build of a Coronis Yeoman. His brown hair has been cut into a military style but he maintains a single braid that has just passed six inches in length, mimicking the Fire Warriors who trained him.
History: Matthes' father, grandfather, and great grandfather worked their orchard outside of Kel'Shorin. The Tau colony city was only recently established, but the Greene family's roots go deep here. Their servitors have been replaced by Earth Caste drones, but the family continues to hue to the old ways. Worship the Emperor, follow the law, and be a moral man.
After the passing of his father, Matthes inherited the family orchard. His husband, Kristoph, moved in not long after. With the help of Xenos tech inside the Kel'Shorin city, the two of them welcomed a daughter, Anice, into the world together. Kristoph maintains the orchard with Anice and the drones while Matthes tended the herd of Grox there.
The Chosen One: While on a wargame patrol with his fellow Gue'vesa and their Shas'ui instructor, the squad encountered a tribe of feral Ogryn in the southern hemisphere. The Ogryn overwhelmed the squad in close combat, killing two, injuring four, and taking most others prisoner for "din-din!"
Matthes followed the Ogryn back to their lair while the survivors tended to their wounds, and used his markerlight to transmit information to the Tau relief force. With an accurate count of the enemy, their position, and the surviving prisoners, a Drone Sniper used the data to eliminate the Ogryn and free the prisoners.
Class: Battlesuit Pilot
Audition: Coming Soon.
Battlesuit: XV-25
Weapon(s): Burst Cannon
Support System(s): Vectored Retro-Thrusters
"'s cool," Parry said, rubbing Rikive's back in sympathy. "Parents c'n be assholes sometimes. But sending you on a quest fer grankids is kinda weird. I can find you one to take back an' say it's yours!"
Parry snickered, thinking about some of the frightening toddlers he could send back in Rikive's arms. Ms. Heimdall would be floored at the idea of her daughter coming back with a werewolf babe in arms.
Parry, inebriated as he was, walked out of the bar with Rikive hauling him by the arm. The cool night air left his exposed legs shivering while the sailor skirt blew in the wind. Parry hadn't bothered to change back into his regular clothes since they'd long since been splattered by alcohol from their numerous bar hops.
"But Riki! Why would you want to forget that?" Parry giggled with a smile, launching into a pirouet. "It was one of my best dance routines! And-"
WHOOOOOOSH!
Parry stopped in place, the brief gust of wind sending his hair flying about while he balanced on his shoes.
"Riki?" He asked, looking left and right down the road. "Riki?"
His Norse companion was gone, with not so much as a peep uttered. Parry was about to chalk it up to a drunken return to Asgard, her girl's night out mission fulfilled, when the wind shifted. And he caught the scent.
Dead, but not rotting. The smell of dried and embalmed flesh, like a body laid out in a funeral home for one day too many.
And seconds later, a smell had hadn't smelled since he cut himself shaving his legs the other day.
"Oh FUCKS!" Parry's mind and body switched into overdrive, trying to speed up his own metabolism to get rid of the drunken effects of the alcohol. Unfortunately, he couldn't get far past "tipsy" into "sober" before he started running.
They were only two blocks from his place. It had wards against vampires. And it was definitely off limits to anyone uninvited by order of de Lacy.
"Rikive," Parry yelled, taking off at full speed down the road, following her scent- he wasn't a bloodhound, and if the wind shifted he would lose her potentially for good. Bloodsuckers nomming on a demigoddess would upset de Lacy's secret, much less Heimdall himself.
Parry would be a dead Celestial if that happened, either way.
"If you can hear me, break a wall or something! Rikive!"
Parry snickered, thinking about some of the frightening toddlers he could send back in Rikive's arms. Ms. Heimdall would be floored at the idea of her daughter coming back with a werewolf babe in arms.
Parry, inebriated as he was, walked out of the bar with Rikive hauling him by the arm. The cool night air left his exposed legs shivering while the sailor skirt blew in the wind. Parry hadn't bothered to change back into his regular clothes since they'd long since been splattered by alcohol from their numerous bar hops.
"But Riki! Why would you want to forget that?" Parry giggled with a smile, launching into a pirouet. "It was one of my best dance routines! And-"
WHOOOOOOSH!
Parry stopped in place, the brief gust of wind sending his hair flying about while he balanced on his shoes.
"Riki?" He asked, looking left and right down the road. "Riki?"
His Norse companion was gone, with not so much as a peep uttered. Parry was about to chalk it up to a drunken return to Asgard, her girl's night out mission fulfilled, when the wind shifted. And he caught the scent.
Dead, but not rotting. The smell of dried and embalmed flesh, like a body laid out in a funeral home for one day too many.
And seconds later, a smell had hadn't smelled since he cut himself shaving his legs the other day.
"Oh FUCKS!" Parry's mind and body switched into overdrive, trying to speed up his own metabolism to get rid of the drunken effects of the alcohol. Unfortunately, he couldn't get far past "tipsy" into "sober" before he started running.
They were only two blocks from his place. It had wards against vampires. And it was definitely off limits to anyone uninvited by order of de Lacy.
"Rikive," Parry yelled, taking off at full speed down the road, following her scent- he wasn't a bloodhound, and if the wind shifted he would lose her potentially for good. Bloodsuckers nomming on a demigoddess would upset de Lacy's secret, much less Heimdall himself.
Parry would be a dead Celestial if that happened, either way.
"If you can hear me, break a wall or something! Rikive!"
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