Supermaxx

Superboy's Shitty Characters

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Andrew // Graves
_{LOCALE // The City of Thorinn
TIME // Morning}

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Graves was growing increasingly annoyed with the influx of players on Lefig Lawn. The crowds were as thick as a forest, and made finding the singular tiny elf girl a near impossible task akin to looking for a needle in a haystack. In his irritation, the gigantic tank bulldozed his way through anyone too slow or too stupid to get out of his way. His tactless and rude behavior earned him a number of crude remarks and curses aimed in his direction, but the Mutilator of Men was too annoyed with his current predicament to care what a couple of worthless hacks said. His search was going nowhere fast. For all the ground he was managing to cover, Graves didn't see any sign of the prancing tree hugger or the crowd of mooks she'd invariably gathered for their little excursion into the nearby dungeon that had recently cropped up outside of Thorinn. It was at times like these that the hermit warrior almost considered forgoing his communications black out and picking up one of those fancy-smancy ear pieces that were all the rage these days. It only took a moment's interaction with another living, breathing person for Bludd to remember why he had refused to take one in the first place. People were a waste of his time. He didn't quite see the irony in hating interacting with other people in an MMO of all things.

It was during one of his many turn arounds that the broad shouldered monster of a man felt something prick against his back. Graves let out a surprised and not at all manly help, swinging around to face whomever had forced such a humiliating sound from his lips. His fist was raised and he was ready to deck the dumb bastard that had done it- yet, no sign of the perpetrator could be found. "Huh?" The Blood Knight blinked, confusion overtaking his blind rage. Only a moment passed before the attacker revealed herself, calling out to Graves from out of his line of sight. He ground his teeth together, towering over the ranger woman like a mountain before an ant. Not only had she poked him and embarrassed him so, she had the audacity to demand she join his group in exchange for Elian's whereabouts. The stranger didn't ask. She demanded. Nay, more than that, she was practically extorting him. Fury burned in the heart of the intrepid anti-hero. He considered his options carefully; the most prominent of which was to ram his knuckles into those flawless teeth of hers. His first instinct, as appealing as it sounded, was a bad idea. 'If I hit a pretty little thing like that I'm gonna have two dozen basement dwelling wannabe white knights on my ass in five seconds flat.'

The tank begrudgingly unclenched his jaw and took a second to breathe. After calming himself down, Graves leaned forward and got within a few inches of Mirage's face. "Fine," He replied, venom dripping from every word, "But on one condition: don't call me sweetheart again. If you do, I'm shoving my fist through your face- and we don't want to ruin the only thing you've got going for you, do we?" After hopefully proving his point and putting the fear of God into the woman, Bludd stood straight once more. "Now where'd you see the elf, hick?"

Luckily for the Blood Knight, he wouldn't have to rely on his new unwanted companion to find the dancer. Graves head swiveled in the direction the coarse sound came from, his eyes naturally attracted to the golden fan waving in the sunlight. "Ha, found her! You weren't much help." Bludd started toward Elian, shoving everyone out of his way as he made a direct beeline to her side, cutting a swath in the crowds as he did. The bullheaded fighter looked between the many people that were hanging around Elian's LFG flag, his frown deepening. Were they all coming with? Graves knew that clearing a dungeon with a small party was quite difficult, but he preferred the challenge over having to spend time with even a remotely large group of people.

It didn't take more than a few seconds for him to find someone among them to hate. His disgusted gaze fell upon the baseball cap wearing steroid infused buffoon. The asshole spoke like a stereotypical neckbearded fedora tipping fuckboy you'd find skulking internet forums. "I think I'm gonna puke." Graves muttered to Mirage in his usual hateful tone. "Were you dropped on your head as a kid or is your inability to speak properly a preexisting condition?" Some might say that Graves was being a tad too aggressive. They might say that maybe he should calm down a little, and take the moron's 'leet speak' as a light hearted joke. Some people might deserve a quick kick in the ass for questioning Bludd.

Thael wasn't the only one the bare-chested tank took issue with. The owner of the fiery flying snake spirit looked like she was a spaz too. Graves had little patience for people like that; he could only hope her antics were merely a temporary affair brought on by insanity or a heat stroke. He wasn't sure how much more he could bear if it turned out the fire mage was usually so...Ugh. The rest of them didn't seem to be nearly as irritating as the first two, thankfully. Elian was always a handful, but the woman was a damn good healer so he wasn't going to complain too much. The straight laced knight that introduced himself as Hawkwood wasn't awful. Bludd had met many less agreeable people than he. The fencer had thus far said very little, which automatically promoted her to the Blood Knight's favorite- or, more acurrately, least loathed. The goggle toting guy talked too much. And his face was kind of annoying. Other than that, there wasn't a great deal for Bludd to complain about.

"I'm Graves." He grunted. Better to get introductions out of the way so he didn't have to speak to all of them individually. "The hick's coming along too." Bludd jutted a thumb behind him.

Pariah Online: Prologue [ closed ]

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Andrew // Graves
_{LOCALE // The City of Thorinn
TIME // Morning (apparently)}

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Blood is a thick, vile thing. It's sickly warmness is a grim reminder of the ending of life and the fleeting nature of a failing spirit. The crimson liquid pools in great quantities, forming a lake of putrid death beneath the corpse of the fallen. Humanity is so very fragile, is it not? Despite man's endless struggle to advance, improve and go beyond what they are currently capable of, human life can still be snuffed out with a swift blow to the heart. A mere sharp knife can destroy decades of potential growth in the blink of an eye. What a thought it is that the same species that stepped foot on another celestial body withers away like a flower strangled by a bed of thorns. Warriors seek to cultivate their life taking skills, and make use of human frailty for profit and glory. They train their bodies to the maximum in order to eviscerate other lesser creatures. A man that has the strength and knowledge to end anyone they come across is burdened with a single, searing question: 'What right have I to kill? Who am I determine what life deserves to be torn asunder by these calloused, powerful palms?'

These are the thoughts of a man at arms.

But not the thoughts of Graves Bludd, genocidal maniac, ruthless bounty hunter and murderer extraordinaire in the virtual world of Pariah. The giant form of the Blood Knight stepped forth from the shining arcane light of the gate platform. The hulking warrior lumbered down the steps of the teleportation pad and entered the crowded streets of the settlement of Thorinn. Crowds of people, both NPC and Wayfarer alike, shuffled along the cobblestone roads that ran all throughout the city. The population of the outlying colony was surprisingly dense; and the news of a recent dungeon cropping up had drawn numerous players to the out of the way urban center in search of gold and glory. Bludd himself had caught wind of the presence of the crypt through a vulgar, bitchy healer he'd run a couple of instances with a few times before. The woman was an annoying asshat but she made better company than most. She tended to have fairly reliable medicinal skills, too, so Graves couldn't complain about the grating dancer too much.

The hulking form of the gargantuan tank shoved past a gaggle of gossips. He had little regard for the people of Aetheria, to be truthful. They were a bunch of scripts and programs that offered him money in exchange for his services and little else. He treated players marginally better, stepping out of the way of obvious clumps of them; not because he thought they mattered or any bullshit like that, but because he knew a group of 'em could kick his ass three ways from Sunday. Don't get Graves wrong, though. He wasn't afraid to pick a fight with someone over something as arbitrary and stupid as them being in his way when he was trying to walk. In fact, he had gotten into plenty of scuffles over less. However, the unarmored tank knew that even he, being the badass that he was, couldn't handle an organized party of three or four other players. Dying all the way out in Thorrin to some no name lowlifes was not an embarrassment Graves wished to subject himself to. So, he continued on, pushing past the sea of people and making a beeline for the Guild of Acquisitions.

Graves didn't know the layout of the city too well. He had studied a map of the place before. He knew the basics, like which direction the town square lied in. However, the specifics were lost on him. Bludd just continued straight until he caught sight of the building's sign, indicating that to be the city's guild. He confirmed that it was the place when he saw the mob of players standing around in the grass next to the flagpoles that people had jerryrigged to denote that they were looking to group up. It wasn't a system Graves used often. He despised working with other people, especially unreliable pubbies. However, he also despised people that tried to get to know him- Graves didn't play Pariah to make friends, so he walked a fine...fine line when it came to who he was willing to work with. That said, Bludd thought he could get at least a handful more runs out of Elian before she overstayed her welcome.

"Yo, Dendrophile? You out here?" The Blood Knight called out, his sharp voice booming over the square. He got more than a few looks from people for his volume and strange vernacular. A hateful scowl drove those curious eyes away from him, however, as Graves wandered the Lefig Lawn in search of his would be companion. He asked a handful of helpful looking individuals if they had seen her around recently.

"You seen a pointy eared whore around here? No? Alright, thanks Fuckface."

"Yeah, an elf. Like the ones Santa uses, but duller. Her nose's the size of a- Are you walking away from me?!"

"Asshats. Yes, I'm talking to you two. Have either of you bitchboys seen-"

Suffice to say, Graves couldn't get anyone to point her out for him. It was frustrating to say the least. Why was everyone so selfish these days? There was a time where he could yell at a random stranger, call them an inbred monkey, and they would happily point him in the direction of whatever he happened to be looking for. Sure, the Bounty Hunter was a little tactless. His manners could definitely use a little work. That didn't mean everyone should ignore him! It was incredibly rude of them to be sure. With a huff, Bludd decided he'd find the elf on his own. "Eeeelffff? Dancing panzy? Heellooo?" Maybe he should've invested in some sort of long range communication device...but that meant giving someone the ability to bother him any time they wanted, and that sounded like ass- so Graves would have to pass and stick to yelling really loudly.

Superboy's Shitty Characters

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Andrew // Graves
_{LOCALE // The City of Thorinn
TIME // Noon}

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Blood is a thick, vile thing. It's sickly warmness is a grim reminder of the ending of life and the fleeting nature of a failing spirit. The crimson liquid pools in great quantities, forming a lake of putrid death beneath the corpse of the fallen. Humanity is so very fragile, is it not? Despite man's endless struggle to advance, improve and go beyond what they are currently capable of, human life can still be snuffed out with a swift blow to the heart. A mere sharp knife can destroy decades of potential growth in the blink of an eye. What a thought it is that the same species that stepped foot on another celestial body withers away like a flower strangled by a bed of thorns. Warriors seek to cultivate their life taking skills, and make use of human frailty for profit and glory. They train their bodies to the maximum in order to eviscerate other lesser creatures. A man that has the strength and knowledge to end anyone they come across is burdened with a single, searing question: 'What right have I to kill? Who am I determine what life deserves to be torn asunder by these calloused, powerful palms?'

These are the thoughts of a man at arms.

But not the thoughts of Graves Bludd, genocidal maniac, ruthless bounty hunter and murderer extraordinaire in the virtual world of Pariah. The giant form of the Blood Knight stepped forth from the shining arcane light of the gate platform. The hulking warrior lumbered down the steps of the teleportation pad and entered the crowded streets of the settlement of Thorinn. Crowds of people, both NPC and Wayfarer alike, shuffled along the cobblestone roads that ran all throughout the city. The population of the outlying colony was surprisingly dense; and the news of a recent dungeon cropping up had drawn numerous players to the out of the way urban center in search of gold and glory. Bludd himself had caught wind of the presence of the crypt through a vulgar, bitchy healer he'd run a couple of instances with a few times before. The woman was an annoying asshat but she made better company than most. She tended to have fairly reliable medicinal skills, too, so Graves couldn't complain about the grating dancer too much.

The hulking form of the gargantuan tank shoved past a gaggle of gossips. He had little regard for the people of Aetheria, to be truthful. They were a bunch of scripts and programs that offered him money in exchange for his services and little else. He treated players marginally better, stepping out of the way of obvious clumps of them; not because he thought they mattered or any bullshit like that, but because he knew a group of 'em could kick his ass three ways from Sunday. Don't get Graves wrong, though. He wasn't afraid to pick a fight with someone over something as arbitrary and stupid as them being in his way when he was trying to walk. In fact, he had gotten into plenty of scuffles over less. However, the unarmored tank knew that even he, being the badass that he was, couldn't handle an organized party of three or four other players. Dying all the way out in Thorrin to some no name lowlifes was not an embarrassment Graves wished to subject himself to. So, he continued on, pushing past the sea of people and making a beeline for the Guild of Acquisitions.

Graves didn't know the layout of the city too well. He had studied a map of the place before. He knew the basics, like which direction the town square lied in. However, the specifics were lost on him. Bludd just continued straight until he caught sight of the building's sign, indicating that to be the city's guild. He confirmed that it was the place when he saw the mob of players standing around in the grass next to the flagpoles that people had jerryrigged to denote that they were looking to group up. It wasn't a system Graves used often. He despised working with other people, especially unreliable pubbies. However, he also despised people that tried to get to know him- Graves didn't play Pariah to make friends, so he walked a fine...fine line when it came to who he was willing to work with. That said, Bludd thought he could get at least a handful more runs out of Elian before she overstayed her welcome.

"Yo, Dendrophile? You out here?" The Blood Knight called out, his sharp voice booming over the square. He got more than a few looks from people for his volume and strange vernacular. A hateful scowl drove those curious eyes away from him, however, as Graves wandered the Lefig Lawn in search of his would be companion. He asked a handful of helpful looking individuals if they had seen her around recently.

"You seen a pointy eared whore around here? No? Alright, thanks Fuckface."

"Yeah, an elf. Like the ones Santa uses, but duller. Her nose's the size of a- Are you walking away from me?!"

"Asshats. Yes, I'm talking to you two. Have either of you bitchboys seen-"

Suffice to say, Graves couldn't get anyone to point her out for him. It was frustrating to say the least. Why was everyone so selfish these days? There was a time where he could yell at a random stranger, call them an inbred monkey, and they would happily point him in the direction of whatever he happened to be looking for. Sure, the Bounty Hunter was a little tactless. His manners could definitely use a little work. That didn't mean everyone should ignore him! It was incredibly rude of them to be sure. With a huff, Bludd decided he'd find the elf on his own. "Eeeelffff? Dancing panzy? Heellooo?" Maybe he should've invested in some sort of long range communication device...but that meant giving someone the ability to bother him any time they wanted, and that sounded like ass- so Graves would have to pass and stick to yelling really loudly.

Pariah Online: Prologue [ closed ]

It's confirmed. @Gowi doesn't care about us. /s

Pariah Online: Prologue [ closed ]

@Gowi Did...Did you intend to repeat yourself there? Because if so, that was funny as hell.

Pariah Online: Prologue [ closed ]

No, ignore them. Make him Medieval Indiana Jones. Fucking do it, mate.

Pariah Online: Prologue [ closed ]

@MissCapnCrunch When did that happen? I mean, uh, I appreciate you, person-I-totally-knew-was-a-CO-GM!

Pariah Online: Prologue [ closed ]

@shylarah Wiser words have not been uttered.

(Also, thanks for being such an active part of the ooc. It's pretty cool to see how devoted you are to making this whole thing run smoothly. I declare today Co-GM appreciation day.)

Pariah Online: Prologue [ closed ]

I'm too lazy to start an uprising. So I'll be over here, occasionally making dumb jokes, as is my lot in life.

Pariah Online: Prologue [ closed ]

@MissCapnCrunch

Oh man, I don't know what to do. They've usually filed for sexual harassment by now...