BlizzHis story is actually pretty sad.
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Give her the D
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No problem. It wasn't like I was planning on using a shield, or a swordbreaker, or any of the other cool equipment I listed as having.
"I... am not a miss!" Cristine sat up to slap Al away. Her other arm, the one that had actually made contact with his, ended up in a mangled mess. It wasn't enough to be truly crippling, but still enough to be quite disgusting to look at. In other words, it was pain Sergeant Wykes was used to. The knight struggled as she attempted to stand up on her broken arm in her drunken state. "I" she hiccuped "I work for a living!"
I'm fine with my girl being tossed around.
Y'all can go on without me. I've thought about it and I think I'm going to be dropping this RP. Is that alright?
The knight's eyes glowed and her nose puffed with pride. "Hmph!" she grunted. Sergeant Wykes expected the younger female paladin to respond, seeing as how she appeared to be the leader of the trio with the bigger male paladin, and the smaller bird-woman. Instead, Sergeant Wykes felt a thicker, courser hand than she had expected. Looking up from the hand, she had traced the arm to the body of a young male.
The eyes on the Sergeant widened slowly, and a barely noticeable blush had overcome her face. Sergeant Wykes had never touched a male before. Masculine as she liked to believe herself to be, she had never dreamed of touching a male. In fact, she had not even been so close with her male comrades in spite of the advances of the younger recruits.
She had to keep her bearing. "Alright" Sergeant Wykes announced, her mouth kept open. It was as though her lips were moving on their own. "Let's go then!" she said, applying pressure to push Al's arm down.
The eyes on the Sergeant widened slowly, and a barely noticeable blush had overcome her face. Sergeant Wykes had never touched a male before. Masculine as she liked to believe herself to be, she had never dreamed of touching a male. In fact, she had not even been so close with her male comrades in spite of the advances of the younger recruits.
She had to keep her bearing. "Alright" Sergeant Wykes announced, her mouth kept open. It was as though her lips were moving on their own. "Let's go then!" she said, applying pressure to push Al's arm down.
Sergeant Wykes had been on leave for quite some time. She believed she would have gotten word from the King should he have any issues which needed to be taken care of. At her low rank, they must have needed her for something! Escorting some nobles, capturing deserters, breaking out bandit dens... something! Wykes, or Cristine when she was out of uniform, spent a bulk of her time drinking. Her musculature had seemed to deterred many would-be suitors, and in some cases attracted some unwanted attention. She wasn't really embarrassed- or at least she didn't like to believe she was. Naturally, Sergeant Wykes preferred being in uniform to deter some more awkward conversations.
It wasn't long before the grizzled veteran had put down another drink. She knew it was killing her slowly, but couldn't help herself. "An-hick*" she attempted to speak, in a dizzied manner. It wasn't long before a young woman spoke, then another paladin with a bit more chest in his voice which caught Sergeant Wyke's attention.
"WORTHY!?" Sergeant Wykes shouted, standing up from her stool. "I'll show you worthy!" she said, walking over to the paladin in a drunken stupor. She sat, as the fourth seat of the table and held out her left arm, hand open. "You know what to do" the Sergeant challenged.
It wasn't long before the grizzled veteran had put down another drink. She knew it was killing her slowly, but couldn't help herself. "An-hick*" she attempted to speak, in a dizzied manner. It wasn't long before a young woman spoke, then another paladin with a bit more chest in his voice which caught Sergeant Wyke's attention.
"WORTHY!?" Sergeant Wykes shouted, standing up from her stool. "I'll show you worthy!" she said, walking over to the paladin in a drunken stupor. She sat, as the fourth seat of the table and held out her left arm, hand open. "You know what to do" the Sergeant challenged.
Note: Not that an infantryman would really know, but bright red usually indicates arterial bleeding. This is when you have a wound that cuts below the subcutaneous layer into the arteries, and it usually pulsates. Venous bleeding is darker; and I don't think anyone here has ever not experienced capillary bleeding. That said, the color of blood varies; For instance, how by hydrated a person is.
Naturally, Daddy Liberty's target had moved after being shot at. A few droplets of blood fell on the ground, confirming Daddy Liberty had hit his mark. Bright red was the color Daddy Liberty was looking for. It was his first favorite color, after all, next to white and blue. Daddy Liberty lowered his 240 and switched from fire to safe. He scanned the area to hear only the faintest footsteps that were barely even audible. It had seemed to be from the front.
Daddy Liberty could remember in deployment, children playing on rooftops as he was on patrol. He could remember the strange looks he got from all the different locals. At that time, Daddy Liberty was a symbol of peace. Oftentimes, he'd like to believe he still were such a thing. With the demon inside of him, guiding a good deal of his behavior, Daddy Liberty questioned himself. At one point, this questioning caused an attempted suicide. This lead to Jim's fateful encounter with the demon that had taken over his body. Attempted suicide were only a trivial thing. Even at point blank with 7.62, it was not enough to kill Daddy Liberty anymore. If he didn't let himself regenerate, the demon would eventually take control and do it for him, thus giving more of his body to the demon. For now, just the face would suffice.
Out of the blue, another phrase spoken in an angry tone by something that could definitely not be considered human. He questioned whether or not it was in fact his target. However, a few key words could cue Daddy Liberty in. These included "Blade" and "Flames"; he was talking about the Liberty Brand!
Daddy Liberty hurried over to the position in which he had heard the noise. On his first deployment, Daddy Liberty was a gunner and had to perform similar tactical maneuvers. It was just like training. Unfortunately, he was never given the opportunity to really fire at a live target back in deployment. He felt a little bit of disappointment in the situation in fact.
Still, he had confirmation on his target. Daddy Liberty put cheek to stock well as he looked through the sight-blade to align with his target. With a light click, Daddy Liberty switched his weapon from safe to fire before pulling the trigger for another three seconds. By rough estimate, he had a little more than half the rounds on his belt left.
Daddy Liberty could remember in deployment, children playing on rooftops as he was on patrol. He could remember the strange looks he got from all the different locals. At that time, Daddy Liberty was a symbol of peace. Oftentimes, he'd like to believe he still were such a thing. With the demon inside of him, guiding a good deal of his behavior, Daddy Liberty questioned himself. At one point, this questioning caused an attempted suicide. This lead to Jim's fateful encounter with the demon that had taken over his body. Attempted suicide were only a trivial thing. Even at point blank with 7.62, it was not enough to kill Daddy Liberty anymore. If he didn't let himself regenerate, the demon would eventually take control and do it for him, thus giving more of his body to the demon. For now, just the face would suffice.
Out of the blue, another phrase spoken in an angry tone by something that could definitely not be considered human. He questioned whether or not it was in fact his target. However, a few key words could cue Daddy Liberty in. These included "Blade" and "Flames"; he was talking about the Liberty Brand!
Daddy Liberty hurried over to the position in which he had heard the noise. On his first deployment, Daddy Liberty was a gunner and had to perform similar tactical maneuvers. It was just like training. Unfortunately, he was never given the opportunity to really fire at a live target back in deployment. He felt a little bit of disappointment in the situation in fact.
Still, he had confirmation on his target. Daddy Liberty put cheek to stock well as he looked through the sight-blade to align with his target. With a light click, Daddy Liberty switched his weapon from safe to fire before pulling the trigger for another three seconds. By rough estimate, he had a little more than half the rounds on his belt left.
I actually intended the two to fight somewhere in Texas. Paris is nice though.
Also, Rodrigo's actions were caused primarily by the dark crystal, and he is not completely sure of his surroundings or actions.
Also, Rodrigo's actions were caused primarily by the dark crystal, and he is not completely sure of his surroundings or actions.
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