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6 mos ago
Current I've been on this stupid site for an entire decade now and it's been fantastic, thank you all so much
11 likes
2 yrs ago
Nine years seems a lot longer than it feels.
2 yrs ago
Ninety-nine bottles of bottles of bottles of bottles of bottles of bottles of bottles of bottles of bottles on the wall
4 likes
4 yrs ago
Biting Spider Writing
7 yrs ago
They will look for him from the white tower...but he will not return, from mountains or from sea...
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@Lemons

Don't forget that Azu has two Weapons. She has a sword strapped to her back.


Right, right. Forgot about that, my bad.
Holy shit that was intense.
Posted. Tori, at the moment, is busy appreciating how Silme cuts to the chase. I expect that to change as soon as he starts, y'know, being himself.
Alright, looks like we got two. One or two more, I think, before we should head out.

Tori was, at first glance, unsure about the girl. She looked...oh, what was the word? She couldn't quite place it in the single word that she wanted to—tip of the tongue and all that—but despite the long sword hanging on her shoulder, the girl looked like if she took a single solid hit she'd be down for the count, and like she wouldn't be able to punch something out if she had rockets strapped to her fists. Oh, right, that was the word: fragile. And weak.

Then, of course, she remembered that not everybody operated like she did, and that guns existed. She'd spent so long working on her own that she'd somewhat forgotten the use of any weapons other than Sigyn. She thought she'd been a pretty decent shot once, but she hated guns. No connection to them. She saw something like a revolver on the girl's belt and nodded slightly to herself. All things considered, that was pretty obvious, and she'd been pretty stupid to call her fragile and weak. If she was here and getting alerts from the Vytal board, she'd been through a combat school and graduated. That should definitely be enough. Still, given how she spoke, she was more than likely a bit of a nonconfrontationalist, someone who would rather dance around issues than go right to the heart of the matter. Well, she thought, at least it's just for one job.

Then her eyes fell on the boy that came up to her, and a single thought went through her mind: Now that's more like it.

Yes, he was slim. Yes, he didn't look like he actually had any weapons on him, which could be a problem, in theory. Yes, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was. But he was decently tall, covered in lean, strong muscle, and looked like he could take a hit. And, as a plus, he was a Faunus, so there'd be something in there that made him superhuman in some way. Always a plus. To Tori, it didn't really make a difference whether there were additional ears on someone's head; it was all secondary. What mattered was whether or not he could handle himself in a fight, and he certainly looked like he'd be able to.

Then he opened his mouth, and Tori looked up at the sky. Whoever's up there, thank you. Thank you for sending me someone who knows how to NOT mince words. One of the reasons she'd never signed on with a team after she graduated from Atlas was that pretty much anyone she met had a seemingly-unbreakable addiction to small talk. They would talk, and talk, and talk, but in the end, they wouldn't really say anything. Ever. Even when they did, it was so buried in the endless mountains of words that it was impossible to tell what they were saying anyway. To Tori, with her blunt, direct nature, it was both totally asinine and insanely frustrating. She just wanted to tell them to shut up and say what they wanted without beating around the bush like some sort of little brat from Vale. And, more often than not, she did. Hence her lack of companions. Finding someone who, at first impression, seemed to be just as straightforward...how long had it been since that had happened? Since way back in school? She couldn't stop a wan smile from breaking out on her face as she thought of it. I wonder if he likes to drink. He looks a little young, but feh, did that ever stop me?

She nodded. "There's a charter boat on the southern coast. I've paid for passage to and from already. Good thing too, because I've got nothing left in me." She shook her near-empty change purse, then held out a massive armored hand to each of the two, looking at each of them once. "Tori Frejsdottir, Atlas Academy. Don't fuck me with, and I won't fuck with you. Sound good?"
@chukklehed Didn't a bunch of racist Atlesians result in him being the hardcore #RageBoi he is?
@Raijinslayer #RudeRage
I've did post. Sorry for the massive delay since my last one, things have been getting really busy around here and I've had a lot on my plate. Should be more regular in he future.
Gaius groaned as softly as he could as the feverish heat of the poison ran the remainder of its course through his body. Fortunately, he was a rather healthy man, and though his arm was painful, the wound was shallow. In conjunction with the potion that Brynja had given him—he thought, since at the time he'd existed in a haze of semiconsciousnes—his natural hardiness and the grazelike nature of the cut had him back on his feet, if a bit slow and shaky. But slow and shaky had no place here. He had to keep moving. He had to. If he stopped for even a moment at the wrong time, if he tripped and bashed his head, if he—for any reason—couldn't move forward, he knew in his gut that they wouldn't be able to carry him and still avoid the Falmer. He would die down here. That moment was, of course, the moment when the lethal spotlight shone its barbed rays between the crumbling remains of once-grandiose buildings and Daro revealed its mechanism of execution. Yet another way for him to die. It seemed like they were stacking up; Falmer, Dwemer automata, impalement from the enormous structure that haunted these ruins, a collapsing lift...

I'm not ready to die, he thought with grim certainty. And so, even when a few others sat down in the gazebo-esque structure that the group took brief shelter under, he stayed on his swaying feet, hand on the hilt of his sword as he held on to his shield like it was a life raft. He pressed his forehead against it momentarily, uttering a prayer to all nine Divines under his breath, not caring overly much if Durantel heard him at this point.

Gaius had seen the cruel lethality of Dwemer making before; a few soldiers had borne armaments of it in the Civil War, and those blades and his own shield were a testament to its durability and impossibly good edge-holding capabilities. A bolt forged of that big enough to impale a Falmer certainly gave him pause. But, as his soldier's mind reviewed the situation, he became acutely aware that a pause here was enough to kill. So he swallowed down his fear and trepidation, steadying his shaking hands, and replaced them with the iron-hard conviction that came with the previous decision: I'm not ready to die.

As Rhea told them that they needed to clear a path, Gaius cleared his throat, glancing at Daro'Vasora, Solandil and Meg, and mentally wishing them good luck. Now, as for the rest of us... "If anybody gets caught in the light, shout for me. If there's anything that can stop a harpoon like that," he tapped a clenched, armored fist lightly on Empire's Aegis, "it's this." With that, he moved out of cover, following Rhea and doing his best to move his armored body along as quietly as he could, with dubious success. As he stopped behind a long-dried fountain a few meters behind Rhea's position, he attempted to calm his nerves. It's not so different from Whiterun, he assured himself. Just pretend the light is archers, and try to stay close to block the arrows.

But at the same time, he added mentally as his joints clanked with what seemed infinite volume, breaking out of his imagined siege, the closer they are to me, the less likely they are to escape the Falmer. And, really, he had his doubts as to whether or not even his time-tested shield could stand up to something lethal enough to make Daro'Vasora as afraid as she was.
@Raijinslayer I bet Tori could take him.
@Raijinslayer Aight, aight. So Tori is going to mercilessly badger him, got it.
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