Guardj
Member
Can't remember how to change his name.
STATUS: Same kind of status as always from me. Just a little more drastic. Taking a break for reasons. Be back in a week or two if I'm feeling better. And sorry for the double post. 3 yrs ago
Lildear18
Suikochan
Hos
Charybdis
Zoie HartStatus
Recent Statuses
3 yrs ago
Current
Same kind of status as always from me. Just a little more drastic. Taking a break for reasons. Be back in a week or two if I'm feeling better. And sorry for the double post.
2
likes
3 yrs ago
Same kind of status as always from me. Just a little more drastic. Taking a break fo
3 yrs ago
Seems like all my statuses are "Sorry if replies come slow or aren't great" lately. But, sorry if replies come slow or aren't great . Mental state keeps making writing a challenge.
1
like
4 yrs ago
To my partners and co-writers: Starting today I'm taking a much needed several days to a week long mental health de stress break. Im not dropping any games, I just need to rest a minute.
1
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Bio
This user is a general waste of space. Capable-ish writer, generally able to write in the high casual to low advanced bracket when motivation strikes. Very much prefers a casual attitude about RP though, and is sometimes over-encumbered by life.
Most Recent Posts
In
Spark's Request Thread! (Looking for Advanced RolePlayers)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: 1x1 Interest Checks
You have some good ideas. I'm on my phone so I can't write much at the moment, but please shoot me a pm.
When Clint finally did make his way back to the bar, he was unsurprised to see hat Beth wasn't there. Either she had already left to be about the business of the day, or she just didn't really want to see him right then. He wouldn't have blamed her for ether. In the first place, he was somewhat later than he'd planned to be. And in the second, well his conduct the previous evening hadn't exactly been gentlemanly. Not that he was always a gentleman, no. He couldn't claim to be so perfect. But while being a man of his stature did have its advantages, especially in his line of work, it also carried with it something of a burden. Clint was a large man. If he wasn't conservative enough with his actions, people got hurt. He had to be careful to keep himself in check. And he'd failed to do that.
Still, there was work to be done, until someone called him off the job. Yesterday had been something of a daunting experience, what with the hell gate and all. He shook his head, and ordered a glass of whiskey while he collected his thoughts. The breakfast of champions. The soft amber burned pleasantly as he put together an agenda. One thing they'd needed to do, they both agreed, was speak to the parish preacher here in town. The man would have dealt with the local people's suprstitions, which in this case would mean, signs and omens, or spiritual, or haunting experiences. Once again, he cursed this business of dealing with something you couldn't just kill. Finishing his 'breakfast', he set the glass down on the table, along side a few crumpled bills, and walked back out into the already warming morning light. The church was further on up the main street, next to the town hall. Only a few minutes of walking.
He surveyed the building as he approached. It was old. Somewhat rundown looking. Like it was underused. But what of it was there, did seem well cared for. Maintained with love by whoever ran it. He had no doubt the Preacher did most of the work himself. Out of respect, he contemplated leaving the guns outside, but thought the better of it. No telling who might come round and decide to profit off of his kind ness if he did that. So he swung the door open, and took his hat off as he stepped inside.
"Hello? Preacher?" Near the front of the building, a smaller framed Hispanic man, dressed all in black, with a white ring collar adorning his shirt, was stooped over a desk, writing something. Perhaps a letter. Huh. A real catholic priest. Not just a country preacher. Clint wasn't really surprised though, as the west really did get all kinds. He corrected himself, never the less.
"I mean, Father..." And then again, noting the man's nationality. "uh- Padre." The man smiled, somewhat amusedly at Clint's stumbling, and stood, stretching his back and arms.
"What can I do for you, my son?" He spoke in clear English, but with a heavy accent. He was quick to survey Clint, but if he was intimidated, or revolted by the large, rough looking man carrying an arsenal worth of weapons, he didn't show it. "Come. Come and sit." He motioned to a pew near the table he was working at, and Clint shrugged, and made his way over.
"Padre... I have to ask you a few questions. As a man of faith. And... uh... They might seem like strange questions." He didn't know how to go about this line of questioning, but the Padre just smiled knowingly.
"My child. We live in strange times. In a strange place. It is only natural for people to question."
((So I've basically left Clint unawares as to what's happening to Beth. Without playing him unrealistically, he'd have no way to track or follow her to be able to back her up. So if something's going to happen, it'll have to be just for her, or be big enough for him to notice it. In the mean time, I have him carrying on with the plan as they made it the day before.))
Still, there was work to be done, until someone called him off the job. Yesterday had been something of a daunting experience, what with the hell gate and all. He shook his head, and ordered a glass of whiskey while he collected his thoughts. The breakfast of champions. The soft amber burned pleasantly as he put together an agenda. One thing they'd needed to do, they both agreed, was speak to the parish preacher here in town. The man would have dealt with the local people's suprstitions, which in this case would mean, signs and omens, or spiritual, or haunting experiences. Once again, he cursed this business of dealing with something you couldn't just kill. Finishing his 'breakfast', he set the glass down on the table, along side a few crumpled bills, and walked back out into the already warming morning light. The church was further on up the main street, next to the town hall. Only a few minutes of walking.
He surveyed the building as he approached. It was old. Somewhat rundown looking. Like it was underused. But what of it was there, did seem well cared for. Maintained with love by whoever ran it. He had no doubt the Preacher did most of the work himself. Out of respect, he contemplated leaving the guns outside, but thought the better of it. No telling who might come round and decide to profit off of his kind ness if he did that. So he swung the door open, and took his hat off as he stepped inside.
"Hello? Preacher?" Near the front of the building, a smaller framed Hispanic man, dressed all in black, with a white ring collar adorning his shirt, was stooped over a desk, writing something. Perhaps a letter. Huh. A real catholic priest. Not just a country preacher. Clint wasn't really surprised though, as the west really did get all kinds. He corrected himself, never the less.
"I mean, Father..." And then again, noting the man's nationality. "uh- Padre." The man smiled, somewhat amusedly at Clint's stumbling, and stood, stretching his back and arms.
"What can I do for you, my son?" He spoke in clear English, but with a heavy accent. He was quick to survey Clint, but if he was intimidated, or revolted by the large, rough looking man carrying an arsenal worth of weapons, he didn't show it. "Come. Come and sit." He motioned to a pew near the table he was working at, and Clint shrugged, and made his way over.
"Padre... I have to ask you a few questions. As a man of faith. And... uh... They might seem like strange questions." He didn't know how to go about this line of questioning, but the Padre just smiled knowingly.
"My child. We live in strange times. In a strange place. It is only natural for people to question."
((So I've basically left Clint unawares as to what's happening to Beth. Without playing him unrealistically, he'd have no way to track or follow her to be able to back her up. So if something's going to happen, it'll have to be just for her, or be big enough for him to notice it. In the mean time, I have him carrying on with the plan as they made it the day before.))
I could be interested in a few of the games. PM me.
I could get into a Kamen Rider RP probably.
His mind was racing for most of the trip back to the ranch house where he was staying. He'd been overcome with emotion, and let himself behave out of character. It wasn't so much that he viewed himself as such a saint, no, he wasn't under any illusions there. He was a killer, and there were no two ways about that. The 'gentleman' may have just even been a character he played, though he didn't like to believe that was the case, but he couldn't honestly tell anymore, whether the casual smile, or the intense stare, was his true face. But the one thing he could be certain of was that this wasn't how he behaved. And not only was it his conduct he was specifically unhappy with. Sure it was ungentlemanly of him, and very out of character. But more than that, it was dangerous. He was only still alive because he didn't connect to people like that. He operated independently, lived his own life, as his own man. His violent life did not damage anyone else that way, so he didn't have to carry the weight of anyone else's life on his shoulders. He carried enough burden, with the dark truth he concealed from so many, and the potential futures of the lives he'd ended. But with no attatchments, there wasn't the constant risk that overexposure could pose him. A safety he maintained by keeping a healthy space from other people.... But just then... with Beth...
He couldn't sleep for thinking back to that moment. He shouldn't have done that. Any of it. From telling her his story, showing his weakness... especially the kiss. No, he shouldn't have done any of that. But he didn't regret any of it either. It was odd, but he couldn't bring himself to regret that moment of connection. He wasn't proud of it, but perhaps it had been the only course of action at the moment. Maybe he had needed that. But now... how was he going to face what the morning brought. What was he going to do about Beth? Would she hold it against him? Or... Finally, his exhaustion overcame him and he slept.
But the morning came all too soon, and he rousted himself. It would still be an hour before he could make his way back to the tavern.
He couldn't sleep for thinking back to that moment. He shouldn't have done that. Any of it. From telling her his story, showing his weakness... especially the kiss. No, he shouldn't have done any of that. But he didn't regret any of it either. It was odd, but he couldn't bring himself to regret that moment of connection. He wasn't proud of it, but perhaps it had been the only course of action at the moment. Maybe he had needed that. But now... how was he going to face what the morning brought. What was he going to do about Beth? Would she hold it against him? Or... Finally, his exhaustion overcame him and he slept.
But the morning came all too soon, and he rousted himself. It would still be an hour before he could make his way back to the tavern.
His mind was racing for most of the trip back to the ranch house where he was staying. He'd been overcome with emotion, and let himself behave out of character. It wasn't so much that he viewed himself as such a saint, no, he wasn't under any illusions there. He was a killer, and there were no two ways about that. The 'gentleman' may have just even been a character he played, though he didn't like to believe that was the case, but he couldn't honestly tell anymore, whether the casual smile, or the intense stare, was his true face. But the one thing he could be certain of was that this wasn't how he behaved. And not only was it his conduct he was specifically unhappy with. Sure it was ungentlemanly of him, and very out of character. But more than that, it was dangerous. He was only still alive because he didn't connect to people like that. He operated independently, lived his own life, as his own man. His violent life did not damage anyone else that way, so he didn't have to carry the weight of anyone else's life on his shoulders. He carried enough burden, with the dark truth he concealed from so many, and the potential futures of the lives he'd ended. But with no attatchments, there wasn't the constant risk that overexposure could pose him. A safety he maintained by keeping a healthy space from other people.... But just then... with Beth...
He couldn't sleep for thinking back to that moment. He shouldn't have done that. Any of it. From telling her his story, showing his weakness... especially the kiss. No, he shouldn't have done any of that. But he didn't regret any of it either. It was odd, but he couldn't bring himself to regret that moment of connection. He wasn't proud of it, but perhaps it had been the only course of action at the moment. Maybe he had needed that. But now... how was he going to face what the morning brought. What was he going to do about Beth? Would she hold it against him? Or... Finally, his exhaustion overcame him and he slept.
But the morning came all too soon, and he rousted himself. It would still be an hour before he could make his way back to the tavern.
He couldn't sleep for thinking back to that moment. He shouldn't have done that. Any of it. From telling her his story, showing his weakness... especially the kiss. No, he shouldn't have done any of that. But he didn't regret any of it either. It was odd, but he couldn't bring himself to regret that moment of connection. He wasn't proud of it, but perhaps it had been the only course of action at the moment. Maybe he had needed that. But now... how was he going to face what the morning brought. What was he going to do about Beth? Would she hold it against him? Or... Finally, his exhaustion overcame him and he slept.
But the morning came all too soon, and he rousted himself. It would still be an hour before he could make his way back to the tavern.
His mind was racing for most of the trip back to the ranch house where he was staying. He'd been overcome with emotion, and let himself behave out of character. It wasn't so much that he viewed himself as such a saint, no, he wasn't under any illusions there. He was a killer, and there were no two ways about that. The 'gentleman' may have just even been a character he played, though he didn't like to believe that was the case, but he couldn't honestly tell anymore, whether the casual smile, or the intense stare, was his true face. But the one thing he could be certain of was that this wasn't how he behaved. And not only was it his conduct he was specifically unhappy with. Sure it was ungentlemanly of him, and very out of character. But more than that, it was dangerous. He was only still alive because he didn't connect to people like that. He operated independently, lived his own life, as his own man. His violent life did not damage anyone else that way, so he didn't have to carry the weight of anyone else's life on his shoulders. He carried enough burden, with the dark truth he concealed from so many, and the potential futures of the lives he'd ended. But with no attatchments, there wasn't the constant risk that overexposure could pose him. A safety he maintained by keeping a healthy space from other people.... But just then... with Beth...
He couldn't sleep for thinking back to that moment. He shouldn't have done that. Any of it. From telling her his story, showing his weakness... especially the kiss. No, he shouldn't have done any of that. But he didn't regret any of it either. It was odd, but he couldn't bring himself to regret that moment of connection. He wasn't proud of it, but perhaps it had been the only course of action at the moment. Maybe he had needed that. But now... how was he going to face what the morning brought. What was he going to do about Beth? Would she hold it against him? Or... Finally, his exhaustion overcame him and he slept.
But the morning came all too soon, and he rousted himself. It would still be an hour before he could make his way back to the tavern.
He couldn't sleep for thinking back to that moment. He shouldn't have done that. Any of it. From telling her his story, showing his weakness... especially the kiss. No, he shouldn't have done any of that. But he didn't regret any of it either. It was odd, but he couldn't bring himself to regret that moment of connection. He wasn't proud of it, but perhaps it had been the only course of action at the moment. Maybe he had needed that. But now... how was he going to face what the morning brought. What was he going to do about Beth? Would she hold it against him? Or... Finally, his exhaustion overcame him and he slept.
But the morning came all too soon, and he rousted himself. It would still be an hour before he could make his way back to the tavern.
In
Mirth's List of Random Prompts, Roleplay Ideas, and Other Crap
→
11 yrs ago
Forum: 1x1 Interest Checks
I think you have some really awesome Ideas. As far as the "pairing" based games, I could go for an alien x human style game, provided we did have more to the story than "Oh somehow there's an alien and these two just like each other for some reason" style romance. I'd want to see some story, or conflict first through which they could bond. Perhaps an abduction goes differently than planned, or a ship crashes and one character rescues the other? Romance makes a good genre, or background genre, but it isn't a story for real. There's got to be a plot. Something going on that explains why their romance is growing and developing, or what they go through that challenges it.
Also, I saw a few of your other fandom ideas, and have a few sort of "obvious-influence original" ideas that I'd be interested in developing or discussing if you'd be interested in brainstorming.
Though, I have to say as a preliminary. I am naturally very busy, and writing is my outlet. However I will not be able to get in a post a day, due to my packed schedule. I've been told I write on an advanced level, and am more than willing to provide a sample of my writing by which you can judge for yourself, but whatever level I write on, it generally takes me a day or two, or often more, to be able to pen a post I feel is worth putting up. So if you're primarily looking for a speedier game, then I'm sorry for having taken up your time.
Also, I saw a few of your other fandom ideas, and have a few sort of "obvious-influence original" ideas that I'd be interested in developing or discussing if you'd be interested in brainstorming.
Though, I have to say as a preliminary. I am naturally very busy, and writing is my outlet. However I will not be able to get in a post a day, due to my packed schedule. I've been told I write on an advanced level, and am more than willing to provide a sample of my writing by which you can judge for yourself, but whatever level I write on, it generally takes me a day or two, or often more, to be able to pen a post I feel is worth putting up. So if you're primarily looking for a speedier game, then I'm sorry for having taken up your time.
(( Clint is a gentleman, but he's still a little rough around the edges, and in a rather odd spot emotionally after a weird few days and the story he just told. So rather than just writing it straight, I'm going to use this to develop him a little. I've hinted at an attraction to Beth before, so there's a couple of ways for him to have reacted, and I'm going to have him go with more than one of them, because real people tend to be confused a lot.))
It had been an unusual day. Yes, he had been a monster hunter for a long time now, but demons were new to him. Hell, any of his monster work was really just a part time endeavor. Mainly he called himself a bounty hunter. Track down bandits, bring them in alive or dead - but he tended to be better at dead - for their rewards. Or while he was in and around a town, he'd take up a job or two doing dirty work for people who wasn't good at the rough stuff themselves, but still needed something violent or aggressive done. But the majority of those jobs involved human beings. Because people had to eat. And while the monster hunting was something of a calling, it didn't tend to pay the bills.
So then he hadn't really had much left, and telling that story had taken that litttle out of him. As his voice trailed off, he wasn't himself anymore. Or maybe he was his truest self. Either way, that man left sittigng there wasn't the same person who'd gone up the stairs a few moments ago. The bravdo was gone, the tough guy was gone, the giant was gone. All that was left was the person he himself saw in the mirror at night. This wasn't something he liked for others to see of himself. He wasn't invincible, unshakeable, after all. And he really liked to keep that a secret.
And then she kissed him. It wasn't anything romantic, simply a kiss on the cheek. Quick, chaste, and affectionate but not romantic. She followed that with a kind smile. A very genuine gesture. It had caught him off guard. An unexpected gesture, but not an unwelcome one. A blush tinted his cheeks as his other thoughts came to a halt abruptly. He was surprised, but pleasantly so, as was evident from the slight smile on his face. His emotions changed direction as he stood up quickly, standing over her as she also stood from where she had stooped to his seated height. Without really thinking about what he was doing, he put a hand under her chin, tilting her head back a little bit to look at him, as he bent down and kissed her. Not on the cheek. A real kiss. It was brief, but there was a certain urgency to it. For just a moment, and then he pulled himself away, taking a step backward.
"No. Uh... I'm sorry. I.... have to go. Dammit... Sorry..... I...." He backed out the door, conflict obvious on his face, as he left with such haste that he forgot to take any of the things she had written down for him, or the rock-salt shells he was going to inspect. He shut the door behind himself, and through the wood she would be able to hear him swear at himself. Spinning, he punched at the wall opposite her room.
The next morning, if she was observant, there would be a hand sized hole, about chest height, through the thin boards.
It had been an unusual day. Yes, he had been a monster hunter for a long time now, but demons were new to him. Hell, any of his monster work was really just a part time endeavor. Mainly he called himself a bounty hunter. Track down bandits, bring them in alive or dead - but he tended to be better at dead - for their rewards. Or while he was in and around a town, he'd take up a job or two doing dirty work for people who wasn't good at the rough stuff themselves, but still needed something violent or aggressive done. But the majority of those jobs involved human beings. Because people had to eat. And while the monster hunting was something of a calling, it didn't tend to pay the bills.
So then he hadn't really had much left, and telling that story had taken that litttle out of him. As his voice trailed off, he wasn't himself anymore. Or maybe he was his truest self. Either way, that man left sittigng there wasn't the same person who'd gone up the stairs a few moments ago. The bravdo was gone, the tough guy was gone, the giant was gone. All that was left was the person he himself saw in the mirror at night. This wasn't something he liked for others to see of himself. He wasn't invincible, unshakeable, after all. And he really liked to keep that a secret.
And then she kissed him. It wasn't anything romantic, simply a kiss on the cheek. Quick, chaste, and affectionate but not romantic. She followed that with a kind smile. A very genuine gesture. It had caught him off guard. An unexpected gesture, but not an unwelcome one. A blush tinted his cheeks as his other thoughts came to a halt abruptly. He was surprised, but pleasantly so, as was evident from the slight smile on his face. His emotions changed direction as he stood up quickly, standing over her as she also stood from where she had stooped to his seated height. Without really thinking about what he was doing, he put a hand under her chin, tilting her head back a little bit to look at him, as he bent down and kissed her. Not on the cheek. A real kiss. It was brief, but there was a certain urgency to it. For just a moment, and then he pulled himself away, taking a step backward.
"No. Uh... I'm sorry. I.... have to go. Dammit... Sorry..... I...." He backed out the door, conflict obvious on his face, as he left with such haste that he forgot to take any of the things she had written down for him, or the rock-salt shells he was going to inspect. He shut the door behind himself, and through the wood she would be able to hear him swear at himself. Spinning, he punched at the wall opposite her room.
The next morning, if she was observant, there would be a hand sized hole, about chest height, through the thin boards.
"Any creature that hunts the darkness is fair game..." He repeated her words. Almost with a sadness in his voice. "Spirits, monsters, demons..." But when he looked in her eyes, after having trailed off there, she would see a lot of emotion there.
"I don't know if you were joking or not. But, if not... Please. Don't hunt the bigfoot. They aren't monsters. They just want to be left alone. They're actually very kind, and peaceful creatures. The only time you'll hear of them claiming a human life, is when they're forced to kill in self defense, or driven out of their minds when some asshole with a rifle murdered their family." He sat down across from her then, his voice calming down.
"I'm... sorry for the lecture there. I'm sure you were just joking. It just played into a stereotype I encounter too often. That 'human' inherently means 'good', and 'inhuman' inherently means 'monster'. And while that is a very convenient lie, it still couldn't be further from the truth." He reclined a little bit, and folded his hands together, interlocking his fingers behind his head.
"Some of the most terrible monsters I've ever encountered, were human. And some of the gentlest beings I've ever encountered, were not. Which, I suppose goes to describe where I come in. I'm a bounty hunter by trade, but as a personal obligation, I protect those who need protecting, often in ways that are entirely fatal to those they need protection from. Whether my target is a monster, or a human. Hell, sometimes my client isn't even always human. Not that they can pay me for my work in that case. But, I've come to feel like I owe it to the world to balance the scales. I did a lot of damage when I was less experienced. You want to know when I first got smart to the things that bump in the night?" He sighed. Hard.
"Well... I guess I lived in denial for a while, but really, in the back of my mind, I knew since that night. Even if I pretended I didn't. We were sleeping peaceful one night, my whole family, in our beds. I was sixteen at the time. Heard noises in our barn one night, bud didn't pay it enough mind. Next morning, half our livestock was slain, chewed on... So the next night, my father decided he was gonna sit in the barn with a shotgun. Keep watch, kill what we all thought was coyotes or wolves or something. He never came back in. We found him dead too, the next morning. Along with the rest of our stock. So, my mother and I, after we'd buried him of course... we decided to follow the tracks. Hunt down whatever had killed him. I was always big and dangerous for my age anyway, and she was a ranch woman so she was tough stuff. We followed the tracks back to a cave. Thought it must be wolves in there... But it wasn't. It was a bear. But it was also a man. I've seen werewolves since, and this was similar, but he turned into a massive bear. Never had seen anything like it at the time. I managed to make it out of the cave alive, but my mother... not so lucky. He slaughtered her, and I hid and cried while he ate her. Had to listen to the sounds of it, because if I stood up to run away, he'd have seen me." He stopped talking then. For a long time.
"So, I decided from then forward I was going to kill every single 'monster' I came across. And, that's exactly what I did. Just killed every single thing that wasn't human. Even very many creatures which me, meant no one, any harm... It was years before I learned the difference....." His posture was sad. No longer the cocky, confident bad-ass. Just a man now. And one who seemed to feel much, much smaller than he looked.
"I don't know if you were joking or not. But, if not... Please. Don't hunt the bigfoot. They aren't monsters. They just want to be left alone. They're actually very kind, and peaceful creatures. The only time you'll hear of them claiming a human life, is when they're forced to kill in self defense, or driven out of their minds when some asshole with a rifle murdered their family." He sat down across from her then, his voice calming down.
"I'm... sorry for the lecture there. I'm sure you were just joking. It just played into a stereotype I encounter too often. That 'human' inherently means 'good', and 'inhuman' inherently means 'monster'. And while that is a very convenient lie, it still couldn't be further from the truth." He reclined a little bit, and folded his hands together, interlocking his fingers behind his head.
"Some of the most terrible monsters I've ever encountered, were human. And some of the gentlest beings I've ever encountered, were not. Which, I suppose goes to describe where I come in. I'm a bounty hunter by trade, but as a personal obligation, I protect those who need protecting, often in ways that are entirely fatal to those they need protection from. Whether my target is a monster, or a human. Hell, sometimes my client isn't even always human. Not that they can pay me for my work in that case. But, I've come to feel like I owe it to the world to balance the scales. I did a lot of damage when I was less experienced. You want to know when I first got smart to the things that bump in the night?" He sighed. Hard.
"Well... I guess I lived in denial for a while, but really, in the back of my mind, I knew since that night. Even if I pretended I didn't. We were sleeping peaceful one night, my whole family, in our beds. I was sixteen at the time. Heard noises in our barn one night, bud didn't pay it enough mind. Next morning, half our livestock was slain, chewed on... So the next night, my father decided he was gonna sit in the barn with a shotgun. Keep watch, kill what we all thought was coyotes or wolves or something. He never came back in. We found him dead too, the next morning. Along with the rest of our stock. So, my mother and I, after we'd buried him of course... we decided to follow the tracks. Hunt down whatever had killed him. I was always big and dangerous for my age anyway, and she was a ranch woman so she was tough stuff. We followed the tracks back to a cave. Thought it must be wolves in there... But it wasn't. It was a bear. But it was also a man. I've seen werewolves since, and this was similar, but he turned into a massive bear. Never had seen anything like it at the time. I managed to make it out of the cave alive, but my mother... not so lucky. He slaughtered her, and I hid and cried while he ate her. Had to listen to the sounds of it, because if I stood up to run away, he'd have seen me." He stopped talking then. For a long time.
"So, I decided from then forward I was going to kill every single 'monster' I came across. And, that's exactly what I did. Just killed every single thing that wasn't human. Even very many creatures which me, meant no one, any harm... It was years before I learned the difference....." His posture was sad. No longer the cocky, confident bad-ass. Just a man now. And one who seemed to feel much, much smaller than he looked.
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