No, it's not that I'm not constantly in conflict, it's that I've seen ABSOLUTELY no conflict period. Ever since I started, FourSev's been a delivery boy enslaved to Loretta because she did some pre-thread things to him that I really shouldn't have let fly. Even when I wanted to wait around to see if any rebels wanted to encounter him, you sent him to fucking space to "oversee deliveries" for an indefinite period of time, for no apparent reason other than "lol take your 6"7' armored ass and go snoop around his ship lol".
Don't act like this isn't your fault. I'm done with your shit.
Daglobster Member
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I'm not. I'm sick and tired of the way FourSev is being used. If I wanted to deliver messages, I would've made a scout trooper, not a goddamn Dark Trooper. This is on you, Sep. I'm taking this chance to bail out.
Shor'Gen watched as the three silver-clad aliens who stood in the open to fire at him were engulfed by the gas. At first, came the usual reactions. They held their breath, thinking it was poisonous, only to be proved wrong as the flesh started sloughing off of their arms and their bones started turning to goop. Within seconds, those three aliens had been reduced to suits of silver armor sitting in puddles of quivering genetic material.
Shor'Gen himself was not unscathed from the encounter, as a couple shots hit the edge of his carapace along with a few that landed dead center. Bits were blown off of the outer protective layer, and most of the shots that his his center embedded themselves into the carapace with crunching noises. Only one round made it past the carapace, going directly through the Yug'Lonian equivalent of the shoulder.
"Gunnos, I cannot stay out here, I'm wounded." Came his voice, serene as ever with no hints of pain. "I must retreat to the medbay, but I will try to return. Please, try to send any wounded to me." He continued, and scuttled back up the ramp, a couple more bullets ricocheting off of his rear carapace and getting stuck in the outer layer.
Crawling through the ship's corridors, he rounded a corner to find himself face to face with a wounded woman, a gunshot wound in her shoulder. "You're wounded. Please come with me, I'm the Lead Physician." he said in a slightly urgent tone, motioning towards the elevator before he entered it.
Shor'Gen himself was not unscathed from the encounter, as a couple shots hit the edge of his carapace along with a few that landed dead center. Bits were blown off of the outer protective layer, and most of the shots that his his center embedded themselves into the carapace with crunching noises. Only one round made it past the carapace, going directly through the Yug'Lonian equivalent of the shoulder.
"Gunnos, I cannot stay out here, I'm wounded." Came his voice, serene as ever with no hints of pain. "I must retreat to the medbay, but I will try to return. Please, try to send any wounded to me." He continued, and scuttled back up the ramp, a couple more bullets ricocheting off of his rear carapace and getting stuck in the outer layer.
Crawling through the ship's corridors, he rounded a corner to find himself face to face with a wounded woman, a gunshot wound in her shoulder. "You're wounded. Please come with me, I'm the Lead Physician." he said in a slightly urgent tone, motioning towards the elevator before he entered it.
I just took a look at your CS, and I've got a few tips for you. Overall, your CS is just too short and vague. You need to elaborate more on pretty much everything, and your spelling is a major issue as well. Other than that, I really like the concept, it's the most unique of them all so far. As it is right now, however, I wouldn't give your character the go-ahead.
Well, me and Notdead are technically assistant GMs , so I can also take a look at it if Light isn't online right now. I'm not sure about being able to accept characters, but I can give you some pointers.
It's wreak, for sure.
Herriman was able to spot Mifune starting to move aside, and began to compensate early. Although he wouldn't have to turn drastically in order to attack him, his momentum and speed were still diminished from not being able to run in a straight line. As he approached at just over three quarters of his original speed (a weak charge in a mortal man's hands, but fast enough that someone with Herriman's strength could still salvage something from it), Herriman started winding up with his pincer arm and his axe arm, essentially coming at Mifune with one arm wound backwards, pointing towards Mifune and the other raised firmly in the air, ready to come down on top of him.
Moriarti Family Residence, 9:37 PM
Outside the somewhat grand villa that belonged to the feared Moriarti familiy, a black GAZ-12 pulled up, the Soviet-made luxury auto idling in the courtyard for a few moments before its engine was turned off. The men standing guard disregarded the black car, knowing perfectly well who it belonged to. In fact, the guards tensed up a bit.
With a subtle click, the door opened, and out stepped Lucan Gorbachev, his tall, dark figure somewhat blending with the car behind him. He appeared as a near silhouette, even though the lights around the villa provided somewhat ample (if not slightly dim) lighting for the courtyard at this hour. With the sound of an old, 1920s lighter being turned on, his face was illuminated by the cigarette he started smoking. Placing his hands in the pockets of his black leather coat, Lucan started walking towards the entrance to the villa.
"h-Hello, Mister Gorbachev sir. Having a good evening?" One of the guards spoke up, and Lucan practically ignored the guy, giving him a blunt "That is yet to be seen, tovarishch (comrade)" without even stopping or looking at him.
He entered the villa, considering himself lucky that there was nobody there to greet him save for the posted guards that knew better than to try to make conversation with him. He made his way up to the Godfather's room, and knocked slightly on the door, awaiting a reply.
Outside the somewhat grand villa that belonged to the feared Moriarti familiy, a black GAZ-12 pulled up, the Soviet-made luxury auto idling in the courtyard for a few moments before its engine was turned off. The men standing guard disregarded the black car, knowing perfectly well who it belonged to. In fact, the guards tensed up a bit.
With a subtle click, the door opened, and out stepped Lucan Gorbachev, his tall, dark figure somewhat blending with the car behind him. He appeared as a near silhouette, even though the lights around the villa provided somewhat ample (if not slightly dim) lighting for the courtyard at this hour. With the sound of an old, 1920s lighter being turned on, his face was illuminated by the cigarette he started smoking. Placing his hands in the pockets of his black leather coat, Lucan started walking towards the entrance to the villa.
"h-Hello, Mister Gorbachev sir. Having a good evening?" One of the guards spoke up, and Lucan practically ignored the guy, giving him a blunt "That is yet to be seen, tovarishch (comrade)" without even stopping or looking at him.
He entered the villa, considering himself lucky that there was nobody there to greet him save for the posted guards that knew better than to try to make conversation with him. He made his way up to the Godfather's room, and knocked slightly on the door, awaiting a reply.
Oh yeah, I forgot that city's on an inland island
To bad the white-gold tower's inland
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