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3 yrs ago
Current Jokes on everyone I just look like a sad Travis Touchdown who has really really loud shits
3 likes
3 yrs ago
You status bar people sure are a contentious bunch
4 likes
3 yrs ago
Adding to that, unless you are exhibiting life threatening symptoms (unable to breathe, etc) go to a rapid test site in your area than going to the ER. Local ERs are swamped and overwhelmed here.
3 likes
3 yrs ago
As someone who has been stabbed in the past knives are not kinky
2 likes
3 yrs ago
I'd rather just...never take a lewd of myself.

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Mechs :)
wait what is going on

Location: Blacksmith-- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria




“Have you thought about investing in new armor?”

Before, Benkei may have actually taken the smith up on that offer. Before all of this, all he’d really thought about and cared about was getting stronger, getting better gear and clearing more content. But now? He had to actually consider his own funds. He could bum off his brother, sure, but how long would that cash last?

”If it’s fixable, then it’s fine.” When he did get a stable income, then he could splurge on things to keep him alive. He handed over the money to the smith, and thanked him, before turning back to Sif.

”That’s one errand out of the way. Let’s make our way back; i’m sure everyone should be coming home from their own errands soon enough.”

Rise from your grave


Marlowe followed the other pilots into the hangar, as they traded barbs and quips with one another. Even though no one spoke of it, he could feel the tension in the air. It was like being outside before a heavy storm, as the winds began to pick up and the sky began turning dark. Calm, but the lurking knowledge that something was coming.

When they arrived at the hangar, the engineers were already scrambling. Some of the suits were still in the hangar after the retrieval job; that included Marlowe’s scrap heap of a mobile suit. It was being ignored as they loaded other suits into the hangar. The gravity had been turned off, and both Cathartes and engineers from the rescue ships were loading ammunition, outfitting suits and generally scrambling for combat. This was the first time Marlowe had ever seen everyone moving so quickly, laser focused on the task at hand. His fellow pilots, those who’d spent time in combat, would recognize it of course.

Cornell Voltus was standing around, already wearing his normal suit and barking orders at others. When he saw the group making their way into the hangar, the old man beamed with a toothy grin.“Excellent, I don’t have to call you all down here.” He motioned to the mobile suits on standby. “I’m pretty sure you’re all aware that we’ll most likely be receiving some visitors promptly. So I was hoping we could prepare a welcoming party for them, before they destroy our ship and our money.” He motioned to the man next to him, the Geara Doga pilot they’d run into during the rescue. “Mr. Behrbeck has already dealt with our guests, and we’ve looked at information from the black boxes retrieved from both ships. They’re piloting very fast mobile suits and they are equipped with anti-ship weaponry. Of course, that was all very apparent from the mess we ran into. Instead of waiting in the open for them to come in and tear the ship apart, I have Mr. Arks taking us deeper into the asteroid field. It will eliminate their speed advantage in an open area, but it also limits our maneuverability as well. I’m depending on everyone here to eliminate this enemy force, and to give us a chance to break into Mars Space. Once we dock with the colony orbiting the planet, we can unload our salvage, our passengers and make our way out of this region.”

The federation captain, Spare Infield was next to speak up. ”We’re also deploying our remaining mobile suits to assist you with this operation.” Their suits were nothing special. Two Nemos and a GM III. To anyone who knew about the Federation’s history with mobile suits, they would realize that this was nothing to be excited about. These suits were most likely just old suits fielded for convoy duty. The Nemo especially had a poor track record in the Gryps conflict, and while the GM III was on paper a solid machine, it had been being replaced for the past few years. The soldiers were either rookies or old soldiers past their prime. But at least more allies meant more support.

”I can take my mobile suit out to-” Marlowe interrupted before nearly being backhanded by the old man.

”You’ll stay in the hangar and support the engineering team. The only thing you’ll be out there is in the way,” he said, his tone sharp and curt. He turned to the other pilots. “Go ahead and suit up and prepare for launch. Miss Xerda, Miss Eibril, Mr. Behrbeck and Mr. Disker, your suits are all prepared. The others will be launched afterwards. I’ll be on the bridge with Captain Infield. Just be prepared for anything out there.” The old man floated off with the Captain, and Marlowe stood there, his fist clenched.

”If you can’t pull the trigger, you can’t be a pilot.

Pilots have to kill. There is no mercy in a mobile suit.

Your convictions mean nothing if you’re dead.


The thoughts ran through his head. He knew that they came from a place of care, or worry, or honesty. But all throughout his life, he’d seen people constantly at war with each other, constantly killing each other, and what had ultimately been the end result? Countless innocent lives, caught in the crossfire. Entire ecosystems destroyed. Entire cities worth of orphaned children, all left alone and forgotten. Like him.

Marlowe looked at his Mobile suit in the hangar. It was still geared up for cargo retrieval. He then turned to the others, as they all got prepared to launch. They were all leaving him behind.
Between graduation, getting sick and being hospitalized, I'm unable to post ag the moment. The extreme pain I am in has made it practically impossible to sit down and write. Feel free to npc Alan until I'm able to actually live like a human not in excruciating pain.
I'm too sad to post
I'm still standing after all this time


The sight of whatever it was, whether or not it was simply a trick of the light did not ease his nerves. The opulence of Wilde Hall did not ease his troubled mind either; he was completely out of his element, like an ant in a den of lions. Looking back to Mr. Red eased him, at least. The man remained strong and stony-faced, which was a font of strength at the very least. But something had Lady Gold unnerved, which did not weaken his own fears. Wilde Hall was upon them now, and the only path left to them was forward.

”I suppose we are to enter,” Alvin said, nearly like a whisper, to his companions. The quiet of the Lady Wilde and her coachman, standing behind them like watchers in the darkness made him yearn for the safety of the light. The warmth of the fire. The embrace of humanity. Anything to get him out of the uncertainty of the forest.

And so, with that, Alvin took a trepidatious step forward.

Shikkaaaa... The rattle of acorns filled the forest paths as Itsuki wandered them feeling the flecks of sunlight break through the treetops. Shikkaaaa... The small doll nestled on the back of his sash shook with every few steps. The acorns were particularly special to Itsuki, as they were gathered at the base of several sacred trees in the mumbling woods. He’d found them there after leaving his monthly offering to the kodama; something he’d done since he was young. It was only expected, of course. The kodama had saved his life when he was a babe. Though he’d never encountered a yokai as a young man, he took these small things; acorns, leaves landing on his head, or simply the cool breeze of the wind on a warm summer's day as proof that the spirits of the woods acknowledged him in some aspect.

The winter had proven fruitful for Takao’s family. The village needed wood for fires, and with the forecast of the cold remaining, it meant work would be continuing its pace for the next few months. Itsuki was never fond of his family’s profession; how could someone saved by the Kodama of all things be tasked with the felling of trees? It was why he took the important rituals of woodcutting; the ceremony, the planting of new trees and the offerings to the spirits so important. What if he cut into the home of the kodama that had saved him so many winters ago? What kind of cruel irony would that be!?

Shi...Shi...Shikaaaaa...

Itsuki froze. That was not from his doll. He turned slowly, to gaze at the treetops that slowly swayed in the leaves. Was that…a shadow of a yokai? Or simply a trick of the light? Regardless, Itsuki felt a great wave of electricity rise through him. Excitement. The tree that had moved lacked any important signage that a Kodama lived inside, but still, Itsuki knelt down in reverence, burying a small trinket near the roots of the tree. Soon it would be spring, the time of new life in the natural world. Perhaps the Kodama were preparing for its arrival just as the villagers were.

Shikaaaa… The sound was fainter now as the cold breeze dissipated into the morning. Itsuki got back to his feet and began his walk through the paths towards the village. There was much to be done today, especially concerning the morning deliveries. He held up the small scroll detailing the rounds his father had given him: The Takamori Estate. The Signkeeper’s Tower. The Blacksmith. The Shrine.

Itsuki sighed. Of course his father had given him the important rounds today. As he walked down the path towards the village, he stopped by a small hut. His family’s hut. He’d set out his basket and supplies early, long before the sun rose so he could pay his respects to the Kodama. But now, as morning truly broke, there were expectations to be met. And important villagers to deliver to.

He hefted the basket, filled to the brim with firewood, onto his back, as if he was caring a small pack over his shoulder. Years of working with his family had built his strength up, at the very least. He began walking down the path into the village proper.

No time to dawdle now…

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