NGL I haven’t roleplayed in years but I still log in every so often to see if any friends from the old days hit me up. It’s nice to see that every once in a while
4
likes
9 yrs ago
I'd dropkick my 14 yr old self
10
likes
9 yrs ago
People who get excited to talk about music are my favorite kinds of people
8
likes
9 yrs ago
Positive vibes time! I hope you get that job you're applying for! I hope you pass that test coming up! I hope ya'll achieve what ya'll set out to today!
7
likes
9 yrs ago
It's nice being thought of. If you're ever thinking of someone, tell them. People appreciate that shit.
@LC Once again, looking great! Whenever you and @Skwint come to a resolution, I'll dm you the extra stuff (the .308 revolver genuinely made me laugh out loud)
@Theyra Not too late at all! Arya and LC are the only two with solidified spots at the moment as they were directly invited. Feel free to fill out for a spot or if you'd like, go for an alternative role. Here are some alternatives to choose from, or we can work together to create a role closest to what you're already interested in.
Cargo Officer - Manages the ship’s supplies and cargo, ensuring everything needed for the mission is stocked and accounted for. Overseeing food, fuel, weapons, and other supplies; ensuring proper storage and distribution; keeping track of inventory and ship’s needs. (Also advisory to the Captain if any trades were to happen with other vessels)
Cybernetic Specialist - Responsible for maintaining and upgrading any cybernetic enhancements or augmentations on the crew. Assisting in medical procedures for cybernetic implants, upgrading or fixing cybernetic devices, ensuring systems are fully functional. (So while the engineer is the tech-savy for the ship, this role is tech-savy more for personal equipment. Works closest with Science Officer and Secruity Officer in maintaining quality of weaponry aboard)
Chef/Cook - Responsible for preparing meals and ensuring the crew’s nutritional needs are met during long space missions. Cooking meals, maintaining food supplies, preparing for exotic alien ingredients (This is really the 'for fun' role of the game, because who doesn't love a chef). Other responsibilities may include discovering different ways to grow crops within space (they would have their own garden) and finding edible food on other planets.
@ErosSense Pretty great start so far, I'm loving the backstory.
Race you can place human, as Telepathic abilities can emerge regardless of age. It's possible to be human and then find out you're a telepath later in life. Traits can be revised later, yes, as this section is meant for rough drafts and brainstorming. Don't be afraid to push the notion either, you can definitely have someone lie so good even a telepath has trouble telling the difference. If you want to brainstorm more or need other trait ideas, we can discuss via PM whenever you'd like.
Equipment wise is really anything you'd like to list, a picture of wife and daughter, a regular pistol, etc. minor things but not the end all be all of what you have on you.
edit: Mouthwashing was great and refreshing, so you know exactly the vibes I'm going for.
This is an idea I’ve had circling in my brain for a while, a character-driven story about a ragtag crew exploring space for a company known as ExoGenesis. Think of shows like Firefly and Babylon 5, down to games like Mouthwashing and Stellaris (Yes, this is where I got the name).
Unbeknownst to everyone (or publicly if you so choose), the crew are made up of people who have done horrible things or made career-ending mistakes in their pasts. ExoGenesis, for unknown reasons, have decided to overlook such things in order to recruit them for an exploration mission.
(This game will begin with everyone preparing to leave home and boarding the Stellar Horizon. The mission is contracted for a year and a half, with ExoGenesis being able to extend that time up to two and a half years) (Everyone will be given individual missions via DM upon acceptance as well) (The beginning will be heavily character-driven encouraging collaborations and characters getting to know one another, before any action kicks in) (Pre-established relations are acceptable as well)
Premise:
The crew of the Stellar Horizon, a state-of-the-art exploration vessel, is tasked with investigating a strange anomaly detected deep within the uncharted regions of space. This anomaly, known only as “The Echo,” is a mysterious phenomenon that has baffled scientists and stargazers for decades. It emits inexplicable signals, seemingly a distress call, originating from a region previously thought to be devoid of life and technological presence.
The Stellar Horizon’s mission is simple: Travel to “The Echo’s” coordinates, investigate the source, and report findings.
Crew Roles:
I’m looking for four to five players to fill these starting roles. If more players show interest, I’m willing to open up more slots and work together to find suitable roles.
Captain Amara West: Overseeing the ship's operations, making tough decisions, and maintaining morale. The Captain is the face of authority, mediating conflicts, and representing the crew in diplomatic situations.
Orion (Operational Resource and Intelligence Online Network): This AI is an advanced onboard system that is an integral part of the ship’s operations providing assistance with navigation, data analysis, and even psychological support.
Starting Five -
Science Officer: The ship's resident expert on research, discovery, and understanding of alien technologies, ecosystems, and phenomena. Responsible for the health and well-being of the crew, often dealing with both physical injuries and mental health issues.
Engineer: The technical expert who ensures the ship’s systems stay operational, including propulsion, weapons, and life support. [Claimed]
Pilot: Responsible for piloting the ship, navigating space, and handling any space combat or evasive maneuvers. They handle smaller crafts such as shuttles and drones as well.
Security Officer: Responsible for the safety of the crew and the ship, including dealing with threats both internal and external.
Communications Officer: Handles all ship-to-ship communication and coordinates with other space stations, colonies, or ships.
-
Q&A:
Posting Expectations?: I’m not a hard-ass on this as everyone has lives. I’m looking for committed players who don’t mind a slow-burn-esque roleplay. I currently work four days in a row, ten hours, with other life commitments so I understand if writing can’t be a top priority. Collaborations between players are heavily encouraged here, and those take time. As long as we’re moving at a healthy rate, I have no problems as I prefer quality over quantity. Once a week may be a minimum if we’re moving the story along, but once again, I’m not a hard-ass.
Can I Die?: In this game, anything is possible. I’m not looking for this to be a slaughter-fest, but this is a deep-space cosmic horror exploration game. Actions have consequences, and that’s what makes it a fun and interesting narrative.
Humans Only?: Sadly, yes. I considered allowing alien races, but for the narrative set, I think humans or majority humans works best for now. ExoGenesis is an Earth based company with the motto, "Seeding the Future, Evolving Humanity Beyond the Stars." after all. I’m not above allowing an exception, however, but it would have to be very convincing and well-written.
However, being a Telepath is acceptable. These powers are a recent emergence within humans and therefore classified as a different race (More on this to come).
Not enough Lore to fully say I’m interested!: This is understandable. I made this to throw the concept out there before I typed everything in full-detail. If there’s anything you need to know Lore wise, feel free to ask and I’ll give a quick summary.
Your Q&A didn’t answer my question!: Feel free to ask here or PM me.
-
Here is a CS with an example to encourage brainstorming. Lord knows my CS are not pretty, so feel free to use any CS template as long as the necessary information is provided.
Name/Callsign: [Full Name/Alias]
Appearance: [A picture or text description will suffice here]
Age: [25+]
Gender: [M/F/NB]
Race: [Human or Telepath]
Role: [See Crew Roles]
Biography: [History + Personality + What blacklisted you]
Traits: (These are custom made abilities specific to your character ranging from physical skills, to higher-powered weapons and technologies, and unique Telepathic skills beyond surface level. These can be upgraded later on)
Trait 1: Trait 2: Trait 3: Trait 4: Trait 5:
Equipment List: (Extra things you’d like to emphasis)
Name/Callsign: Amara West ‘Captain’ ‘Sir’ Appearance: Amara’s posture exudes confidence as she stands at five-nine with a toned, athletic build. Her warm, light brown eyes compliments her similar skin-tone as they reflect determination and intelligence. Her dark, curly, hair is generally styled into a tight-bun in the back of her head with the occasional curl escaping to frame her face. The curl tends to reach the top of the faded scar on her right cheek, that stretches all the way down to her neck that she tends to hide with her uniform. A dark navy space captain uniform, with silver accents complimented by the utility belt across her waist with multiple tools and a hidden weapon. Age: 31 Gender: Female Race: Human Role: Captain
Biography: Amara West was once a rising star within the Interstellar Exploration Federation. She quickly climbed the ranks due to her tactical brilliance and unshakable resolve, serving with distinction. Her career would take a sudden, mysterious, nosedive when she was blacklisted from multiple space companies. The official reports state she was responsible for a mission going catastrophically wrong, evident by her scars and lack of crew. Now, she’s captain of a new crew and determined to get back at the IEF by successfully carving a new role within ExoGenesis. (You can learn more by interacting)
Traits:
Gift of Gab: Amara has a way with words, and as such, diplomacy. Amara has a higher chance of talking herself out of bad situations, and has a higher chance of succeeding with negotiations in Stellar Horizon’s favor.
Jump For Joy!: Amara has a tailor-made jet-pack designed for faster equip, suitable for her or anyone near her size.
OR-9: A holographic wrist device that allows for remote control of the ship’s systems, as well as encrypted communication.
Plasma Blaster: A modified plasma-baster with high precision. Nothing too fancy, but can practically hurt anyone if regular bullets are ineffective.
Experience: Amara is a highly-experienced Captain that has acquired more-than-appropriate leadership and navigation skills, as well as knowledge of alien tech, due to her time in the IEF.
Besides a headnod offered at the swap of items, a lack of response was what came from Milo as he paid attention to the words now coming from Josiah and the crowd. It turned into another ‘passionate’, heated, debate where both sides had merit. It wasn’t Milo’s place to speak up, but there were clear advantages to remaining hidden from a force as big as the Republic. His eyes scanned throughout the crowd, noting mostly refugees and hard-workers. This was a community, not a militia or band of raiders. If he would have stuck it out with his old group, they would have considered this mine like taking candy from babies. A low chuckle erupted from the deformed man as he kept his sarcastic comments to himself, getting himself a good look at the green-skinned broad that was debating. Everyone had the answers, but who was actually willing to go out and do it themselves? That’s what Milo wondered.
If not for the current situation, Milo’s instincts would have made him reach for his weapon when the shot began ringing out. Back in his camp, the shot meant the green-skinned woman and the rest of the disgruntled mutants would have been laid across the floor. Here, more for show but got the job done the same. Josiah had made a threat - or rather a promise - to discipline those who stepped out of line. Milo found it fair, but how long would it really keep them in line? It wasn’t his concern to continue thinking about it. Milo heard the word he needed to hear; expedition, which sent him on his way to the arsenal.
Milo was the first to arrive, and generally was each go-around in order to continue securing his good living situation. The arsenal consisted of a shooting range and proving ground, as well as an area to store weapons. Milo rarely used the weapon storage as he preferred to keep his weapons on his person at all times, including sleeping. The proving ground he wished to use more, but it was rare to find a sparring partner that had similar endurance. The shooting range was where he could be found, usually taking a few pot shots to get his aim steady. This time around he would hold off, as something told him times were going to get harder. He could smell it in the air and as such, was going to conserve as much equipment as possible.
Milo made sure his medkit was fully stocked and took his gun apart to clean it. At least, as far as he could get without having to mess with the laser functioning. Next, he would take two 40-round magazines and flip one upside. He would couple them together with tape to create a flip mag. Milo would then begin practicing a quicker reload, dislodging the clip and then flipping it to the other mag, inserting it with an extra hit at the end. He would consistently perform this action until he got into the habit of it. Expeditions were always dangerous, and those blue-and-red fuckers lurking around the corner made it none the easier now. Milo raised his assault-rifle with one arm, admiring the new attachment and cleanliness. He understood a gun was just like a woman, you needed to oil ‘er up and get her pretty before the finger-fuckin’ commenced. That’s what her previous owner failed to understand, and why she treats Milo nicely at every turn. Now, he was ready for his mission.
Milo was walking mindlessly across the cavern of Kettler Mine, a bottle of beer in his hand with the cap freshly plucked off. There were no thoughts behind his eyes, simply boredom and frustration from being told off in his attempts to find Josiah. It had been a week since his last mission, and that’s what paid for his free lounging. The last thing he wanted to hear was any nonsense concerning pulling his weight. For now, he would enjoy the time-off. The bottle was near his lips, ready for the first sip before a voice pulled his attention away.
“My fellows…”
‘This motherfucker!’ Milo thought as he lowered his arm and began backing up as a crowd formed. He made his way to the back of the growing crowd, eyes scanning around as Josiah preached his words of peace. It was a respectful stance that was rudely interrupted, causing uncharacteristic frustrations to show on the Mutant Land’s leader. Back in his old camp, interrupting the leader was grounds for a fight-until-death. Here, they would go on to call it being passionate. Milo didn’t fully understand it, instead he understood that the threat of the Republic and Blackwatch meant that his services were still going to be required. He also wasn’t that dumb to dismiss his own situation, they would ask no questions seeing his face. For now, this seemed to be the best place to lay his head, so he would patiently hear out what Josiah had to say during this calming silence.
A shadow flashed in the corner of his eye, a lone figure grabbing his attention atop the catwalks. An enigma, her dark hair and eyes alongside her clothing wrapped her into the shadows that surrounded her. He couldn’t fully make her out but still, it was something about her that he couldn’t take his eyes off of. He squinted slightly, and took a step forward before a voice nearby snapped him out of his trance. It was the one everyone has been calling ’Nine’. Milo didn’t know her personally, but had seen her around in her weird uniform and robot-like mannerisms. Milo was just ugly as shit, but talk about being fuckin’ creepy with that one. Still, she must have some respectful skill to be surviving out here like the rest of them. The guy she was speaking to, however, he had never seen before. He was of similar age and height, with a similar rough-unkempt appearance. Their similarities would end there. This guy had more muscles and could actually be considered handsome, at least on a level Milo himself would never achieve. Milo heard their conversation by proxy instead of interest, but couldn’t help but notice the guy fidgeting with his necklace. It was the same way he caressed the ring of his dead lover. He sighed, and once Nine made her exit, Milo stretched his arm out, the beer now in front of Maverick. “Trade ya’ fa’ one of them smokes, yeah?”
He glanced back up at the catwalks, but the enigma was gone. Or did she merely merge with the shadows? Who was she?
Extra rations + ammo Golden ring with cloud designs etched into it Raider-Leader Journal Raider-Leader Map Rolled up porno-mag from the old world, mint condition.
____________________________________
E Q U I P M E N T
- Standard Assault-Rifle [M4] with Holo Scope and Extended Mag [40] that can switch between single fire or rapid-laser fire. - Machete - Body Armor - Smoke Bombs Caustic Grenades Medkit
Milo is a human that’s constantly mistaken for a mutant due to his disfigured face and body. His skin is incredibly-pale and tight with some of his veins uncomfortably visible. He carries open-wounds on both arms, and is distinguished by the scar on the right side of his face leaving his expression a permanent scowl. His tired-dark eyes betray all emotion when they’re not shielded by his messy black hair. Milo keeps his attire relatively simple. Combat-boots, jeans, and the most comfortable hoodie he finds under his bulletproof vest. No matter the weather, this is his attire.
Milo was born a slave in an area unbeknownst to him. His earliest memory was of the orphanage, an old-’church’ where he played endlessly with his brothers and sisters. This orphanage was a front. Regardless if they were born there or taken at a young age, these children would soon know nothing other than complete servitude. Milo was forced into heavy labor such as hauling crates and tending to mine-work. As he grew older, a young adult but still a boy in our eyes, his treatment compared to his peers softened as he was chosen to be taken into his owner’s bed. Rumor had it that her last one died. Milo was groomed over the next year, and isolated from the rest of the slaves. It was neither enjoyable or unenjoyable, simply something Milo had to do to see the next day. He found his pleasure, where he could, but it mainly came in the form of the warm room and fresh nutrients he was provided between acts.
Milo’s new life of comfort, by his standards, would shortly come to a close. His performance was deemed worthy enough to please Mother. The next day he would enter his owner’s chamber shrouded in complete darkness the entire act, but this time was different. This time felt draining and aggressive, and then really aggressive. He felt something sharp dig into his arms causing him to scream, before something pierced his right cheek and pulled hard ripping away skin. He was being torn apart and drained of blood as he performed. This was the first time in his life he felt true, genuine, fear and disgust. The first time in his life he did something that might mean the end of his life.
Light would enter the chambers as raiders kicked the door in, staging an attack the moment the slave owner began her ‘ceremony’. The sight would even make the raiders take pause, the sight of the boy making love to a mutant queen that was seemingly absorbing him. The shock would turn into a roaring crowd of laughter as one by one the raiders gathered in to behold. The raiders found him amusing from that point on, and took him in due to his perceived braveness or craziness. A raider threw a machete to his feet and Milo grabbed it. He stared at his owner. This ‘Mother’. Once a beautiful, yet aging, woman now showed her true appearance. Withered, wrinkled, eyes sunken with a red hue with an expression of fear. An expression many of slaves showered her with that she simply dismissed. He would as well, hesitating before his first strike struck her neck. The gushing of blood and gurgling sounds shook him, but he continued striking, putting more and more anger behind each strike. Anger, fear, and disgust he couldn’t even comprehend at the time.
Milo would pass out due to his injuries, and awaken in a Raider camp days later. This was his life now and Milo couldn’t complain, he just fell in line in order to survive the next day. This group of savages taught him to survive in the wasteland. They taught him how to fight, shoot, and raid. They taught him their tactics and while never the brightest, he was naturally gifted at shooting and understanding combat tactics. Milo would roam with this group for years to come, terrorizing small settlements and holdouts. He never considered himself one of them however, which made what’s next to come easy to do.
The raiders would attack a group of scavengers and families returning to Havenwood. This raid was no different than the ones from the past, so he played it as such. He hung back while the first group moved in. He was meant to make his move afterwards, but the treatment of the families made him hesitate for the first time since taking his lover’s life. The willingness to harm even the little one’s was something he never saw from the group. Milo would go on to use the raider’s combat tactics against them, using smoke bombs and caustic grenades as distractions to pick off targets from a distance. The battle felt like forever as he helped the mutants defend their loot with minimum casualties. Milo would go on to gather the best items he could from his deceased brethren before beginning his journey alone. It wasn’t until the mutants expressed their thanks, and claimed to vouch for him, that he would be accepted in Havenwood where he’s been for an entire month now.
Milo is a quiet and reserved individual, a trait used to keep him out of trouble as a slave. A trait that also kept him out of the bad graces of the raiders he roamed with for years. However, he isn’t antisocial but rather a deadpan-snarker offering a sarcastic comment here and there. It’s almost always difficult to tell if he’s joking or not, unless he offers a smirk that’s so deformed it looks like an even worse scowl. It’s better off he let people wonder.
As a former slave and raider, Milo lacks all the civility of normal people. He will often refer to people in their derogatory forms, even ‘Mutant Land’ where he currently resides. This can be understandable to some given his background, but it can create problems for him regardless. This, coupled with not being academically-inclined, should lead to him being the last person used for democracy.
While Milo may be up for companionship, his one rule is survival above all else. He’s not above aborting a mission or turning his back on a faction in order to keep his life. While this definitely pushes him into the selfish category, he wouldn’t go out of his way to backstab or manipulate anyone. He would rather be alone than bother to do that, not that he’s smart enough to think that far ahead anyway.
____________________________________________________________________________ MOTIVATION AND OUTLOOK
Survival: Milo puts his survival above all-else 95% of the time, it seems to be one of the few things he’s good at. Asshole with a heart of gold: Kids and Slaves are a No-Go for him, and the 5% of why he isn’t completely selfish. Pack Mule: It doesn’t take much to convince Milo to go on a mission or journey as long as the reward seems worth it. He has no larger goal other than to make it to the next day as comfortable as possible. Derogatory: A product of being raised by slavers and raiders, you don’t have the most civilized tongue even if you mean well. What can you do?
Extra rations + ammo Golden ring with cloud designs etched into it Raider-Leader Journal Raider-Leader Map Rolled up porno-mag from the old world, mint condition.
____________________________________
E Q U I P M E N T
- Standard Assault-Rifle [M4] with Holo Scope and Extended Mag [40] that can switch between single fire or rapid-laser fire. - Machete - Body Armor - Smoke Bombs Caustic Grenades Medkit
Milo is a human that’s constantly mistaken for a mutant due to his disfigured face and body. His skin is incredibly-pale and tight with some of his veins uncomfortably visible. He carries open-wounds on both arms, and is distinguished by the scar on the right side of his face leaving his expression a permanent scowl. His tired-dark eyes betray all emotion when they’re not shielded by his messy black hair. Milo keeps his attire relatively simple. Combat-boots, jeans, and the most comfortable hoodie he finds under his bulletproof vest. No matter the weather, this is his attire.
Milo was born a slave in an area unbeknownst to him. His earliest memory was of the orphanage, an old-’church’ where he played endlessly with his brothers and sisters. This orphanage was a front. Regardless if they were born there or taken at a young age, these children would soon know nothing other than complete servitude. Milo was forced into heavy labor such as hauling crates and tending to mine-work. As he grew older, a young adult but still a boy in our eyes, his treatment compared to his peers softened as he was chosen to be taken into his owner’s bed. Rumor had it that her last one died. Milo was groomed over the next year, and isolated from the rest of the slaves. It was neither enjoyable or unenjoyable, simply something Milo had to do to see the next day. He found his pleasure, where he could, but it mainly came in the form of the warm room and fresh nutrients he was provided between acts.
Milo’s new life of comfort, by his standards, would shortly come to a close. His performance was deemed worthy enough to please Mother. The next day he would enter his owner’s chamber shrouded in complete darkness the entire act, but this time was different. This time felt draining and aggressive, and then really aggressive. He felt something sharp dig into his arms causing him to scream, before something pierced his right cheek and pulled hard ripping away skin. He was being torn apart and drained of blood as he performed. This was the first time in his life he felt true, genuine, fear and disgust. The first time in his life he did something that might mean the end of his life.
Light would enter the chambers as raiders kicked the door in, staging an attack the moment the slave owner began her ‘ceremony’. The sight would even make the raiders take pause, the sight of the boy making love to a mutant queen that was seemingly absorbing him. The shock would turn into a roaring crowd of laughter as one by one the raiders gathered in to behold. The raiders found him amusing from that point on, and took him in due to his perceived braveness or craziness. A raider threw a machete to his feet and Milo grabbed it. He stared at his owner. This ‘Mother’. Once a beautiful, yet aging, woman now showed her true appearance. Withered, wrinkled, eyes sunken with a red hue with an expression of fear. An expression many of slaves showered her with that she simply dismissed. He would as well, hesitating before his first strike struck her neck. The gushing of blood and gurgling sounds shook him, but he continued striking, putting more and more anger behind each strike. Anger, fear, and disgust he couldn’t even comprehend at the time.
Milo would pass out due to his injuries, and awaken in a Raider camp days later. This was his life now and Milo couldn’t complain, he just fell in line in order to survive the next day. This group of savages taught him to survive in the wasteland. They taught him how to fight, shoot, and raid. They taught him their tactics and while never the brightest, he was naturally gifted at shooting and understanding combat tactics. Milo would roam with this group for years to come, terrorizing small settlements and holdouts. He never considered himself one of them however, which made what’s next to come easy to do.
The raiders would attack a group of scavengers and families returning to Havenwood. This raid was no different than the ones from the past, so he played it as such. He hung back while the first group moved in. He was meant to make his move afterwards, but the treatment of the families made him hesitate for the first time since taking his lover’s life. The willingness to harm even the little one’s was something he never saw from the group. Milo would go on to use the raider’s combat tactics against them, using smoke bombs and caustic grenades as distractions to pick off targets from a distance. The battle felt like forever as he helped the mutants defend their loot with minimum casualties. Milo would go on to gather the best items he could from his deceased brethren before beginning his journey alone. It wasn’t until the mutants expressed their thanks, and claimed to vouch for him, that he would be accepted in Havenwood where he’s been for an entire month now.
Milo is a quiet and reserved individual, a trait used to keep him out of trouble as a slave. A trait that also kept him out of the bad graces of the raiders he roamed with for years. However, he isn’t antisocial but rather a deadpan-snarker offering a sarcastic comment here and there. It’s almost always difficult to tell if he’s joking or not, unless he offers a smirk that’s so deformed it looks like an even worse scowl. It’s better off he let people wonder.
As a former slave and raider, Milo lacks all the civility of normal people. He will often refer to people in their derogatory forms, even ‘Mutant Land’ where he currently resides. This can be understandable to some given his background, but it can create problems for him regardless. This, coupled with not being academically-inclined, should lead to him being the last person used for democracy.
While Milo may be up for companionship, his one rule is survival above all else. He’s not above aborting a mission or turning his back on a faction in order to keep his life. While this definitely pushes him into the selfish category, he wouldn’t go out of his way to backstab or manipulate anyone. He would rather be alone than bother to do that, not that he’s smart enough to think that far ahead anyway.
____________________________________________________________________________ MOTIVATION AND OUTLOOK
Survival: Milo puts his survival above all-else 95% of the time, it seems to be one of the few things he’s good at. Asshole with a heart of gold: Kids and Slaves are a No-Go for him, and the 5% of why he isn’t completely selfish. Pack Mule: It doesn’t take much to convince Milo to go on a mission or journey as long as the reward seems worth it. He has no larger goal other than to make it to the next day as comfortable as possible. Derogatory: A product of being raised by slavers and raiders, you don’t have the most civilized tongue even if you mean well. What can you do?
ErosSense
The World
SphincterSphinx
ctrlsaltdel
Skyguard
Megatron
Shu
sovlereign
Eviledd1984
