Avatar of Athol

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7 yrs ago
Current There is no such thing as overkill. There is simply 'Opening Fire' and 'Reloading'
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@Crossfire What is the in-universe status of cybernetics/gene mods?
Sadly I think I'm going to withdraw from things, as I just can't get a character together.
@MagratheanWhale@Luminosity Thank you both...I was hoping you had some secret online stash I could have a look at to save me all the frustrating poking about to find the right image :D

Ah well...it was a nice fantasy :p

EDIT: Now to try and find something that isn't stripper-tastic :/
@MagratheanWhale Where did you find the pics for your sheets?
This has my attention, and toying with a magic idea, but not sure about how to make it tie into the character's environment though..
If possible, I'd like to throw my hat into the ring for a slot.





He did not like the Spillway. Growing up, even as a Mechanic-to-be and not one of Autontire’s common folk, water was something to be used sparingly. As such he never learned to swim, and with his armour he doubted he’d even float; not that he’d even want stick a foot in the foul smelling sludge that was the Spillway, even if he could swim. Instead he sat in the common area of the vessel he found himself on, pack beside him and helm resting on a table, once more reading the words of the Prophet Haynes to help calm him.

He knew the words by heart now, his Manual once pristine when he set out, was now tattered and travel stained, the simple act of opening the book and scanning the holy words doing much to calm him. Mind settling, he thought back to what led him here; the job for him was merely a means to and end, a way for him to keep moving forward on his quest. He’d found the shelves in many Departments would gladly pay a traveler in food, drink or accommodation in exchange for assistance. He had gone so far and been given so much simply by helping fix wayward mechanical devices, or lending a strong arm to protect a small shelf from the predations of Cultists or other lower forms of life.

His mind wandered as he contemplated his life so far, when a voice brought him back to the present; a young ‘Tron girl was attempting conversation. While Silverado was certainly content to sit with his own thoughts for company, he wasn’t adverse to getting to know the others he was sharing the journey with.

”Hello, young one,” He said with an affable smile. ”I am Brother Silverado Mechanic-Roadbound from far off Autontire.”

He studied the ‘Tron openly for a few more moments. He’d encountered her people from time to time, either traders or raid parties, in other Departments, but he had never ventured into their own aisle. ”Tell me,” He said eventually. ”Have you ever heard any tales of a mighty army equipped much like I am, near your home? It would have been from many model years before your own makers births. They were a great Crusade raised to cast down the vile Smilers, but sadly they were lost to the Wal. I seek to find what happened and to bring their warranties to peace before the Big Three.”
{Withdrawn}
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