Avatar of neogreggory
  • Last Seen: 8 mos ago
  • Joined: 9 yrs ago
  • Posts: 717 (0.22 / day)
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    1. neogreggory 9 yrs ago
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3 yrs ago
Current Time is an interested concept, how it moves and yet stays still all the same. Flowing and stagnant. Anyways, just stopped by to refresh myself on an old character.
1 like
6 yrs ago
Ha, past me thought eight months too long to go without a status update. Now it has been ten! Anyways, I've D&D things to work on, so I'll get back to that.
7 yrs ago
Mercy it's been eight months since my last status, perhaps it is time to find a RP and get a spot more active for awhile.
7 yrs ago
Just finished Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid. It's always such a bittersweet feeling to finish a show, more so a good one.
3 likes
7 yrs ago
Welp, it's my 20th Birthday. Starting the day properly with a stupidly big bowl of cereal and latter there shall be porkchops!
8 likes

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Big Mech Garocks




Garocks had been staring lovingly at his assorted scrap and junk for a few moments before he realized that the best thing about his junk was doing stuff with it. He took a few strides over to his stool and sat down. It was a rusty old seat, welded onto the floor so as to keep it secure during motion, though if struck too hard the rust addled metal might just snap regardless. The top of the stool housed a thin, tattered cushion of leather make which at one point must have been red, though time had worn the color down to a near white.
Garocks picked up one of the various bits of scrap from the table. It was several random chunks of metal welded together, with a hand crank jutting out the side. While Garocks had no idea what it was, he looked forward to finding out as he grabbed more metal fragments and his welding torch. The mech had scarcely turned on his welding torch and lowered his goggles however before he heard a cataclysmic noise, akin to the fist of Mork himself crashing into some gits face, and then the entire workshop was shaking. Gids was howling in fear as he ran past Garocks, the little whelp rushing into the bowels of Da Fortezz. Clearly something was wrong. As Garocks chucked the pile of scrap into a nearby drawer and shut off the welding equipment he stood and opened the door leading to his balcony. Staring out over the camp the problem at hand was made apparent.

Garocks watched as space debris plummeted from orbit and devastated the not even finished being built orkish stronghold. Mouth agape the mech looked up to see a white hot piece of metal flying straight towards Da Fortrezz. The ork threw himself back and slammed shut the heavy metal door before the orbital junk made impact with Da Fortrezz. The collision shook the great war beast, and Garocks was instantly grabbing what tools he could as he rushed to the lower level. Falling down into the hold Garocks turned and threw open a hatch as he charged into the engine block. It most certainly didn't look good. For starters it was far brighter than it ought to have been, a case of the brand new hole in the hull. The piece of metal that bore that hole was lodged deeply into the engine, having carved through the engine upon impact. Garocks growled and huffed, in this state Da Fortrezz wasn't going anywhere! That's when Garocks spotted movement in the shadows, and the telltale beady little eyes... "Gids you git, stay 'ere and keep track of any more damages, I'm gettin' out of 'ere!"The gretchen piped in, "But what if I get 'it?" To which the big mech assured him, "You won't. If squeaks dies you'll be paying for it!" Garocks shouts as he hurries out of the engine room and then out of Da Fortrezz altogether.

Garocks stood outside in the face of the mayhem. It was total chaos, and not in the fashion that orks like! Raining scrap threatened to at any moment end a life, or destroy a building, and the ground was constantly shaking with the force of the repeated impacts. Somethin' happenin' up there dat's for sure. Garocks thought to himself as he rushed over to a nearby project of one of the lesser mechs who like to camp around Da Fortrezz. It was a piece of junk, even by ork standards, but as Garocks hopped into the driver seat of the warbuggy he had to admit, it was better than nothing. Slamming his foot down onto all the pedals Garocks and his buggy began zooming off.

That's when he heard it, an explosion. But not just that. It was an explosion, and then an impact, not the other way around like it tended to be. Turning the wheel the buggy made a turn far harder than the poor pile of scrap was capable of and soon the entire thing was on it's side, with Garocks pulling himself out of the smoking wreck. Jogging over to where he heard the explosion he saw the warboss himself, crushed under some rubble. "Garock! Get dis piece o' scrap of me! Whats ya' waitin' on?! Da' grass ta' grow?!" The big mech stared down at the pinned boss. And he realized, they were alone, and the boss was trapped. A twisted smile graced Garock's face as he stared down at the warboss. Kragots realized far too late what was happening when Garocks pulled out his twin linked shoota and leveled it on Kragot's face, and then held down the trigger. Blasting the ork warboss' face into the ground, and turning it into a sick paste of green and red, Garocks admired his work for only a moment before he started running.

Most of the other orks, if they were smart, would be fleeing towards the caves. A number of cave systems crisscrossed the area, and while many of them held molten lava within a few were cool enough to allow the orks to access them, though they had yet to be put to any real purpose yet. Running along Garocks was fortunate enough to spot one of the weaker nobs limping along, his leg filled with shrapnel. "Oi!" Garocks shouted over to the nob, who turned to look. Before he could utter anything though the mech opened fire on him, blasting the unsuspecting nob to the ground. Garocks then started dragging the corpse behind with him stating, "You been sentenced to execution for da crime of killing the warboss, you useless git."

Coming up onto one of the entrances to the caves and a group of orks who were hiding from the metal rain under the cover of the volcanic stone Garocks threw the body at them shouting, "Kragot is dead! And dis git is the one who did it!" Not giving the boyz time to respond Garocks bellowed, "And since I'm the biggest one here and am da one who killed da traitor I'm in charge, you gitz have any complaints about dat?" Once this small group of boyz were on side it would not take Garocks long to bring the rest of the WAAAGH under his banner, though that would have to wait until the rain let up.

Greggory was patting himself down, ensuring that aside from the stab wound that he was alright. He was going to give some sarcastic remark regarding the way out before a dark shadow passed overhead, giving Greggory pause. Then the bastard that had stabbed Greggory moments earlier shouted and ran off. Greggory raised his hand and began to mumble a warning about sticking as a group but already the git was a ways off.

Crossing his arms Greggory states, "Well, we could go that way, maybe there's an elevator or something. He seems certain enough about it." While nodding towards the thief as he grows farther and farther away. "Though, for the sake of avoiding burning exhaustion perhaps we should walk rather than run." Taking a deep breath of the stifling air Greggory continues, "That said, methinks introductions are in order, at least for my sake. I'm Greggory, I'm sorry in advance for forgetting your names."
Hearing people moving about below Greggory, still pressing the hot blade against himself, raised his free hand, shouting out in response to how shocking everything was, "You can bloody say that again!"
Pulling the blade away, it stuck slightly to his skin, and Greggory winced again as he pulled/ripped it away from his fragile flesh. Staring at the knife Greggory fiddled with it until he figured out how to both retract and extend the blade, then pocketed the knife. It was left inside him, and with the person who put it there busy looting the fallen Greggory figured that made it his. Tying his blood coated shirt around his waist to hide the wound Greggory pulled himself up and half ran half stumbled down the hillock of corpses.
"So... Anyone have any idea what just happened?" Greggory asked optimistically.
I've nothing else to do at the moment, so no post can come from me until the situation changes.
At least the floor was cold. It was a pleasant counter to the throbbing heat in his gullet. Those were among Greggory's final thoughts before everything went black. He didn't even have time to respond to what would have been his heroes statement before he felt his everything become nothing.

It was dark. Was he falling? Greggory certainly hoped not, falling to death with a knife in his gut was most certainly not his preferred method of exiting the world.
Then again, the void brought up the easy question of if he was in fact dying or dead already? True be told, Greggory had expected it to be a slower, gentler process, not a sudden cut to black void and gut tearing emptiness.

Then it was much less cold. In fact, it was quite the opposite. And then Greggory regained his sense of smell, and it was quite foul. Thick, nauseating, and with a tint of metal. Something quite heavy was up top of him, and with some effort Greggory managed to push the weight off of him, only for it to roll down the hill he appeared to be on. Holding onto his still bleeding gut Greggory blinks his eyes a few times, trying to bring the landscape into focus.
That was when he noticed what he was on top of, and what was on top of him.
Greggory was now the top of a pile of bodies, most of which were broken and twisted, with limbs at inhuman angles and the great heat already bringing the once living flesh to a sizzle. It was then that bile was added to the mix, as Greggory couldn't hold back his disgust. Noting the blood mixed with his puke, and holding back the urge to hurl again, Greggory noted further the environment that he was now in.

Of course it was stupidly hot, that much was apparent. Greggory noted the red stone at the base of the corpse hill, and the jagged environment which hid from sight the horizon. Fire danced up between the rocks, granting illumination to the area, which allowed Greggory to see that there were several other corpse piles, all the them made up of the classmates Greggory had yet to meet. One figure was standing though, that brigand from before stood, and gazed at a wooden sign.
Not able to make it out, Greggory quickly reached around the nearby bodies, quickly finding and placing on his glasses, though grimacing again at the feeling of pain in his stomach. Gritting his teeth Greggory gripped the handle of the knife, which he quickly let go of, realizing how hot it was. Locking his jaw, Greggory tightly gripped the metal knife, and in one painful motion pulled it out, before letting out a scream of pain.

With blood now making an attempt to escape his body Greggory awkwardly pulled off his soiled shirt and, with no better plan, pressed the flat of the warming knife against the wound. It was at this moment that a near constant stream of cusses left Greggory's lips, most of them f**k or some variation there off.
As Greggory approached he saw a girl punch one of the more dunderheaded types in the face, and then the mugger was running towards him and...

Oh

Ow.

Falling to the ground, Greggory takes a few deep breathes as he experiences the sensation of a foreign piece of metal inside of him. Then he makes note of the beginnings of a proper fight breaking out near him, and with great effort dragged himself towards a nearby table, conveniently empty, and pulled himself under it, grimacing as the knife moves about with him as he contorts into position.

Then Greggory looked down. Yep. That is indeed the handle of a knife. No mistaking it nosireebob.
And the red around it? Greggory held back the urge to puke when he saw the sight of his own blood. Perhaps it was best he just kept that where it was...

"She better be alright." Greggory said to himself as he moved a hand down in an attempt to push down on the wound. The attempt did not last long, as the moment he placed his hand over the wound he pulled it away, wincing in pain. "She better be really f**king alright" He quietly shouted to himself, continuing almost in an effort to forget the pain, "She better be so f**king alright, about to be named queen of the lunch room, f**king perfect, f**k!" He stammers.
Looking down at the handle of the knife, Greggory really hoped that someone would break up the fight, and more so that someone would notice him. He really didn't want to have to pull himself out from under the table. Though, he didn't really want someone else to have to pull him out either now that he thought about it...
So, how's it goin? Everybody having a good time?
Greggory was taking a long gulp from his drink, contemplating a video game he had been playing the last few days, when he saw the two figures standing by one another. They were an interesting pair to say the least, one was a fairly upstanding looking girl, was she reaching for the table? Maybe she had trouble standing.
The other one looked like some trash. Oi! Greggory corrected himself, don't be rude, you bloody bigot. he thought, as he sized up the boys stance. Was he holding something?...

Oh. OH. What was to be done? Hmm, ahh, err.

"Hey, what's going on?!" Greggory shouts over the din of the other students. Not sure if he was heard, Greggory pushed back his tray, stood up and started marching towards the encounter. He's going to stab me. I'm going to get stabbed. If I get stabbed, than she won't. S**t. Okay. he thought, and half mumbled to himself, as he strode closer to the pair, hoping that he wasn't about to get stabbed.
Clearly the greatest of plans, preforming an armed robbery in the middle of a crowded room. I see no way Junk's plan could possibly go wrong.
It was the first day of school.

And Greggory was running late.

His dad was at work early in the morning, and with his brother staying at a friends Greggory had no secondary line of defense when his alarm clock failed him. When he did awake, it was in a bolt, as he quickly and awkwardly scrambled to get ready for school.
Luck would have it that Greggory moved rather quickly when rushed, and despite a few simple mistakes, such as a forgotten pencil and a few moments where he stood still doing nothing trying to sort out his thoughts, he actually managed to arrive at school in the nick of time. Mind he was exhausted as he ran into his first class of the day. But aside from having to catch his breath he faired as well to be expected once class began.
The next two classes as well were quite easy. That could of course be due to how little attention Greggory found himself devoting to the classes in question. Not that he wasn't interested, but he simply could not find himself caring about it. When the lunch bell rang Greggory was off, ready to get some food inside him, though that required navigating the harsh crowds. Hanging to the side of the hall to avoid bumping shoulders with too many people Greggory in time made his way to the cafeteria, and after retrieving a tray and receiving the days meal made his way to a nice empty table in the corner of the room, far from other people.
Of course, the table wouldn't remain empty long, but Greggory could hope he thought as he began his meal.
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