Avatar of Monotonous
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    1. Monotonous 10 yrs ago

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10 yrs ago
Potatoes.

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Aeron Beldon
███ █ ████ ██████████████████████ █████ █ █ █ ██ █ █ █████

Age: 21
Gender: Male
Occupation: Revolutionary. Sorta.

Skills:
  • Amateur bomb-maker
  • Weapon improvisation
  • Decent spray painter
  • Skilled Tactician
  • Ferocious fighter
Weaknesses:
  • Stubborn
  • Sadistic
  • Paranoid
  • Selfish
  • Defensive

Other: You may have seen some of Aeron's artwork around town.
Interested

Is this thing officially dead?
Interested.
Ayyyyyy, I'm still here.
Sorry about taking so long with my post. And I'm still here :D
Espen returned his hand to his crossbow after rubbing his tired eyes. Looking back down at the three, he noticed one of them was armed and some were staring at him. Another arbalist. Espen's grip tightened around his crossbow and he attempted to aim his weapon best he could towards who he thought was a possible threat.
“Well I’ll be a monkey’s son of a bitch!! What the fuck, Iris? Every gat-damn-body and their special cousin’s be drawin’ down on us today! This is startin’ to get just a lil’ on my nerves, Sis…”
Espen's attention was immediately drawn to the man with the funny way of speaking. Still aiming his crossbow at the armed lady, his eyes were following the man. He took a step forward and Espen slowly directed his crossbow towards him. The fastest way to him would be by the ladder and he would rather not have anyone climbing it.
“You got ‘bout two cotton-pickin’ seconds to lower that fuckin’ peashooter before I plant my boot so far up your ASS you gonna taste leather for the next ten gat-damn years!!”
Espen chuckled a bit. What an odd way to threaten someone. Espen didn't really care about how furious he was.

"Easy now, we're friendly"
Espen didn't like killing people. Most of the time. He has heard so many variations of those words so many times that they lost all merit; especially in situations like these. Espen felt he had the advantage, being so high up and the three of them confined into one space. Like shooting fish in a barrel. But instead of fish, it is people... inside of a silo...

Espen ignored the talk of them being friendly as he really examined the situation. He was unaware of whether or not they had any weapons on them, they outnumbered him, and more importantly... the only way he could possibly go is down. Even if he did manage to shoot one of them, they could retaliate. Espen didn't wanna test the durability of the silo against arrows or bullets. Higher ground didn't mean shit currently. Walking away was no longer an option. His choice of trying to confront them was dumb.

The arbalist lowered his crossbow and decided to ask something he has been bothering him for a bit.
"Hey hothead, where is that accent from?"
If you take away internet there is nothing.
Very Interested.
I'm still here :D
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