Eh, I would be cool with Kenneth dying due to his... ill manners.
Natsucooldude Banned
STATUS: 2 more days and I will return to full availability 8 yrs ago- Last Seen: 7 yrs ago
- Joined: 9 yrs ago
- Posts: 742 (0.23 / day)
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- Natsucooldude 9 yrs ago
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8 yrs ago
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2 more days and I will return to full availability
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8 yrs ago
I will be gone for a week.
8 yrs ago
Roleplaying involves a commitment to others. And if you cannot keep that commitment I'd ask you to be honest with youself and just say so. It's by far the least painful way of leaving an rp.
9 yrs ago
I'm back in business baby
9 yrs ago
I will be gone for the following week. Posts are possible, but one should not count on it.
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Fallout: Fall of The Brotherhood of Steel [Rebooting and Accepting]
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9 yrs ago
Forum: Free Roleplay
In
Fallout: Fall of The Brotherhood of Steel [Rebooting and Accepting]
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9 yrs ago
Forum: Free Roleplay
Kenneth listened to the woman make her case again. Or at least he pretended to... All the while he was looking for what would be the best angle of attack. The woman might only have a pipe pistol at the close range where she was standing, but Kenneth hadn't survived this long underestimating a dangerous situation for even a moment. "Well missy... you're incorrect. I'm not taking everything, hell, I'm not even taking most of the food. What I am 'reposessing' are explosives, munitions, weaponry... You know... things we can use to overthrow the brotherhood. Hell, give him your own rations if you're so hell-bent on being a goody two-shoes." The earlier playfulness was gone from Kenneth's voice. He was in full on survivor mode right now. If the woman were to make any movement that implied she was about to shoot, he would shoot at her gun hand while weaving behind the dolyak. The poor animal would provide poor cover, but it was better than nothing.
Galawayn followed the ranger. He could see the man knew where he was going... and going with him wass better than admitting he had lost track of where he was in all his bravado against the tieflings.
He stuck close to the larger human inside, not because he was scared, but simply to avoid potential trouble altogether... He wasn't in the mood to get in a bar brawl with some drunk morons right now. The walk towards the bar was blissfully short, and the small gnome clambered up on a stool to get on equal height with the barman.
He stuck close to the larger human inside, not because he was scared, but simply to avoid potential trouble altogether... He wasn't in the mood to get in a bar brawl with some drunk morons right now. The walk towards the bar was blissfully short, and the small gnome clambered up on a stool to get on equal height with the barman.
So I'm kind of confused right now. Is the party currently in the mansion? Or are just the new arrivals there.
The sun rose over the pass of broken ambitions. Its luminous form greeted the infantry marching into formation. Methusalem looked over his forces. A collection of strong men, called to arms in defence against the encroaching savage menace. Everyone knew what was at stake here. He sighed deeply. He had no love lost for wars. If he could help it, this conflict would have been solved with words and diplomacy... But alas, fate had dictated otherwise.
“Grandmaster... Is something the matter?” A familiar voice asked. Methusalem turned to his trusted second man. Titus had been marvelling at what was in his mind an army of justice marching to battle under the blessing of the very sun. This idealism worried the aging grandmaster sometimes. He had seen what terrible things men did when they believed themselves infallible. And sometimes, he could see shades of such zealotry even in Titus. “Morale seems good, and we look to have an advantageous position... But I fear the men might be underestimating our adversaries... A small man can make a giant fall my friend.”
Methusalem had evaded what he really wanted to talk about. He could slap himself for this failing. Yes, the ninti army approaching was a more immediate worry... But he would have to adress Titus's overzealousness sometimes... A scout riding up shook him from his train of thought before anything else could come from it . “Sir, the enemy is marching on our position. Looks to be they'll be here in ten, maybe fifteen minutes.”
Methusalem nodded his head. “Good man, get some rest, you deserve it.” It would appear he indeed did not have time for philosophical discussion right now. He turned to a robed figure shouting orders at a disorganized rabble of wizards on a nearby hill. “Tim... How are the magic batteries looking up?” The wizard looked up from under his pointy hat. “They lack discipline sir... But I believe they will fall in line when the fighting starts... I mean, there's no feeling quite like raining arcane devestation down upon your enemies. And I theorize that this enthusiasm will only be strengthened by the projected volume of elemental projectiles and magical destruction that will be wrought.”
Subtly, Methusalem shook his head at the wizard's bloodlust. He couldn't fault the man. There was a certain catharsis to using powers that took months, even years of careful study to acquire. He uttered a prayer the man might find the right path under his breath. “That is good, now remember, our goal is the defeat of the ninti warlord, not shoot our own men in the back. I want friendly fire kept to a minimuim when at all possible.” Methusalem knew the chaos of a battlefield would surely see some brave warriors struck down by wayward lightning and poorly-aimed fireballs. But such was the harsh reality of warfare.
Finally, he turned to those faithful of his own order. Lined up in rows behind him. All paragons of mankind, clad in steel platemail and carrying the heraldry of their dearest lady Justitia. “Men! Today we fight for the defence of our fellow man. As you know, the agressor from the east is almost upon us. Their advance must be halted here in this pass, lest they spread out across the land like a plague of locusts! But always remember! We fight for justice! Not glory!” The maxim was repeated, at first only by Methusalem's personal retinue. But soon repeated by the infantry also.
Methusalem shook his head again... The motto of his order was not meant to be a war cry... It was meant to be a solemn declaration of introspection. Regardless, these were common men. And they needed something to rally around. This would have to do today.
“Grandmaster... Is something the matter?” A familiar voice asked. Methusalem turned to his trusted second man. Titus had been marvelling at what was in his mind an army of justice marching to battle under the blessing of the very sun. This idealism worried the aging grandmaster sometimes. He had seen what terrible things men did when they believed themselves infallible. And sometimes, he could see shades of such zealotry even in Titus. “Morale seems good, and we look to have an advantageous position... But I fear the men might be underestimating our adversaries... A small man can make a giant fall my friend.”
Methusalem had evaded what he really wanted to talk about. He could slap himself for this failing. Yes, the ninti army approaching was a more immediate worry... But he would have to adress Titus's overzealousness sometimes... A scout riding up shook him from his train of thought before anything else could come from it . “Sir, the enemy is marching on our position. Looks to be they'll be here in ten, maybe fifteen minutes.”
Methusalem nodded his head. “Good man, get some rest, you deserve it.” It would appear he indeed did not have time for philosophical discussion right now. He turned to a robed figure shouting orders at a disorganized rabble of wizards on a nearby hill. “Tim... How are the magic batteries looking up?” The wizard looked up from under his pointy hat. “They lack discipline sir... But I believe they will fall in line when the fighting starts... I mean, there's no feeling quite like raining arcane devestation down upon your enemies. And I theorize that this enthusiasm will only be strengthened by the projected volume of elemental projectiles and magical destruction that will be wrought.”
Subtly, Methusalem shook his head at the wizard's bloodlust. He couldn't fault the man. There was a certain catharsis to using powers that took months, even years of careful study to acquire. He uttered a prayer the man might find the right path under his breath. “That is good, now remember, our goal is the defeat of the ninti warlord, not shoot our own men in the back. I want friendly fire kept to a minimuim when at all possible.” Methusalem knew the chaos of a battlefield would surely see some brave warriors struck down by wayward lightning and poorly-aimed fireballs. But such was the harsh reality of warfare.
Finally, he turned to those faithful of his own order. Lined up in rows behind him. All paragons of mankind, clad in steel platemail and carrying the heraldry of their dearest lady Justitia. “Men! Today we fight for the defence of our fellow man. As you know, the agressor from the east is almost upon us. Their advance must be halted here in this pass, lest they spread out across the land like a plague of locusts! But always remember! We fight for justice! Not glory!” The maxim was repeated, at first only by Methusalem's personal retinue. But soon repeated by the infantry also.
Methusalem shook his head again... The motto of his order was not meant to be a war cry... It was meant to be a solemn declaration of introspection. Regardless, these were common men. And they needed something to rally around. This would have to do today.
@Pikaroo95 So err... considering we're currently in a city, why does your character have spells prepared for dealing with animals. The largest animals I can think of in an urban enviroment are some large rats, maybe an exotic pet here and there, but hardly common enough to warrant specialized protection against.
I'm just giving my thoughts on your selection, do not feel obligated to change thigns if you don't want to.
I'm just giving my thoughts on your selection, do not feel obligated to change thigns if you don't want to.
If I may offer my humble opinion, I think the take twenty rule would have applied here. We are under no pressure to find the tavern.
antiques? you bloody barbarians! that culture isn't for you! the only antiques you're getting are the rusty shells I'm about to pump you full with!
(getting warmed up for the one-liner slinnging part of the judge)
(getting warmed up for the one-liner slinnging part of the judge)
Yeah, cool. Anyway, can I get an innitiative roll from all of you?
Jan went wandering in the base after the fracas in the hangar. He had been confronted with something that irked him. A helpful tech had kept track of his time climbing the NC. "Nine minutes... that could do better." He knew he could. It wasn't like his recent diet of bacon sandwiches with extra mayonnaisse had anything to do with it. A military man like him needed a lot of calories after all. Still though, there was a niggling voice in the back of his head trying to tell him perhaps putting bacon in every meal he could was overdoing it. He would have to shift to something else... maybe something with pasta... perhaps lasagna? Yeah, that sounded good.
Lost in his thoughts about the prospect of a diet, Jan hadn’t realized that he had ran flat into someone who had been walking in the same corridor, white labcoat fluttering upon the impact— the sound of a feminine ‘oomph’ being apparent as the contents of the small box the individual was carrying emptied onto the floor.
“Are you serious? Do you just not like looking where you are walking or is this a New Anchorage thing?!” The woman complained with a huff as she immediately ignored Jan and kneeled down to pick up the contents of assorted belongings that had been contained inside.
Jan almost did his usual reaction of shrugging his shoulders and moving on. Then however, he realized who he had ran into... it was someone he would rather stay in the good graces of.
"Eh... sorry doc, Wasn't paying attention. You need any help with that or...?" Jan's usual tough guy demeanour shifted towards a more pliable submissive posture. He wasn't one to get on the bad side of people that might be poking around in his insides one day... and he definitely didn't want to piss someone off that shared a last name with his boss.
“Well you could stop talking and start helping— or you know, continue looking like an idiot. Your call.” The female medical officer shot out as she grabbed one of her assortments of things and placed it back in her box.
Jan crouched down and started putting things in the box one by one. "So... when did you get here? I haven't seen you around much before now." He tried to change the subject around. This wouldn't be the first time he met someone by accidentally running into them. Though he had to admit, he usually didn't stay behind to help someone pick themselves up.
“Today. The job offer was not limited to NC pilots.” She replied, bluntly.
"Sheesh, a good sense of humour wasn't listed on the job requirements it seems." Jan concentrated and quickly piled all the remaining things into the box. "There, if something's broken, get a replacement and send me the bill
“You want to hear jokes, huh? How about this old Alaskan one I picked up a while ago about an idiot and a doctor? It’s a riot.” The tone was dry with snark to spare as she nodded to the second part of his comment as she stood up with the box's lid secure.
“So, Joker. Care to be useful and help me find the barracks?”
"Eh, sure, I was just on my way to the training facility. The barracks is on the way there from here... I have a fellow pilot to one-up." He had picked up on the snark... she most definitely had a sense of humour; just a more subtle one than Jan's.
Jan had arrived more on time for dinner. One demerit a day was more than enough for him. His muscles ached and his stomach grumbled for food. He had been exercising all afternoon after his unfortunate run-in with the new medical officer. He had reserved a spot on the firing range for the evening. The cathartic feeling of turning helpless dummies into swiss cheese seemed like a good end to the day.
He briefly began assembling his usual mound of mashed potatoes, bacon and vegetables when he thought back on his earlier thoughts about eating differently. He took a large helping of lasagna instead.
Walking over to the part of the mess where he and his fellow pilots usually dined, he saw Stein sitting at her usual table... and also some other guy... who was this other guy? Jan hadn't seen him around before, and Stein wasn't one to make small talk to strangers; much less have dinner with them. With an intrigued huff, Jan set himself down at the same table. Before he could say anything Agatha came in and asked a question Jan could have come up with himself... he really had to step up his game.
This man... stein's father... his manner of speaking was indeed disconcertingly similiar to her. The man walked off before Jan could grill him for questions; instead, he turned to Stein. "Well, he seems like a lighthearted guy... must be great at parties, isn't he?" Jan simply remarked. He didn't wait for an answer, instead digging into his lasagna.
Lost in his thoughts about the prospect of a diet, Jan hadn’t realized that he had ran flat into someone who had been walking in the same corridor, white labcoat fluttering upon the impact— the sound of a feminine ‘oomph’ being apparent as the contents of the small box the individual was carrying emptied onto the floor.
“Are you serious? Do you just not like looking where you are walking or is this a New Anchorage thing?!” The woman complained with a huff as she immediately ignored Jan and kneeled down to pick up the contents of assorted belongings that had been contained inside.
Jan almost did his usual reaction of shrugging his shoulders and moving on. Then however, he realized who he had ran into... it was someone he would rather stay in the good graces of.
"Eh... sorry doc, Wasn't paying attention. You need any help with that or...?" Jan's usual tough guy demeanour shifted towards a more pliable submissive posture. He wasn't one to get on the bad side of people that might be poking around in his insides one day... and he definitely didn't want to piss someone off that shared a last name with his boss.
“Well you could stop talking and start helping— or you know, continue looking like an idiot. Your call.” The female medical officer shot out as she grabbed one of her assortments of things and placed it back in her box.
Jan crouched down and started putting things in the box one by one. "So... when did you get here? I haven't seen you around much before now." He tried to change the subject around. This wouldn't be the first time he met someone by accidentally running into them. Though he had to admit, he usually didn't stay behind to help someone pick themselves up.
“Today. The job offer was not limited to NC pilots.” She replied, bluntly.
"Sheesh, a good sense of humour wasn't listed on the job requirements it seems." Jan concentrated and quickly piled all the remaining things into the box. "There, if something's broken, get a replacement and send me the bill
“You want to hear jokes, huh? How about this old Alaskan one I picked up a while ago about an idiot and a doctor? It’s a riot.” The tone was dry with snark to spare as she nodded to the second part of his comment as she stood up with the box's lid secure.
“So, Joker. Care to be useful and help me find the barracks?”
"Eh, sure, I was just on my way to the training facility. The barracks is on the way there from here... I have a fellow pilot to one-up." He had picked up on the snark... she most definitely had a sense of humour; just a more subtle one than Jan's.
Jan had arrived more on time for dinner. One demerit a day was more than enough for him. His muscles ached and his stomach grumbled for food. He had been exercising all afternoon after his unfortunate run-in with the new medical officer. He had reserved a spot on the firing range for the evening. The cathartic feeling of turning helpless dummies into swiss cheese seemed like a good end to the day.
He briefly began assembling his usual mound of mashed potatoes, bacon and vegetables when he thought back on his earlier thoughts about eating differently. He took a large helping of lasagna instead.
Walking over to the part of the mess where he and his fellow pilots usually dined, he saw Stein sitting at her usual table... and also some other guy... who was this other guy? Jan hadn't seen him around before, and Stein wasn't one to make small talk to strangers; much less have dinner with them. With an intrigued huff, Jan set himself down at the same table. Before he could say anything Agatha came in and asked a question Jan could have come up with himself... he really had to step up his game.
This man... stein's father... his manner of speaking was indeed disconcertingly similiar to her. The man walked off before Jan could grill him for questions; instead, he turned to Stein. "Well, he seems like a lighthearted guy... must be great at parties, isn't he?" Jan simply remarked. He didn't wait for an answer, instead digging into his lasagna.
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