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    1. The Whacko 11 yrs ago
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Boss. I'll give it a shot.
The giant was shouting and doing everything in his power to get the attention of as many of the Heartless as he could. He was the biggest, and he figured stongest, so it was his duty to take the most of the beatings here. He'd already dropped three Soldiers and sent a Large Body staggering and poisoned with a blast of Atom's Irradiate spell. Several of the remaining Soldiers and Shadows were surrounding him now, and he thought for a moment he thought maybe this was a bad idea.

Then the girl showed up, and he felt an unbelievable surge of power course through him. His fist was crackling like a Tesla coil. He grinned wide, an turned to smash that fist straight into one of the soldiers. It exploded into a dark cloud on impact, and he nodded in satisfaction. He let out another roar and turned to face the rest of the horde around him.

"C'mon you ugly son'bitches! You wanna fight, come get some'a Big Hank Sullivan!" It was the best be could think of now, but he needed to get as many of the bastards away from the slaves as he could. Looking like the biggest threat in the crowd was usually the best way to go about it, in his experience.
Henry couldn't help gawking for a moment at the scenery before him. It was the first time he'd seen American soil in its unirradiated state, even if it was traitor soil right now. The plantation itself earned his gaping attention for nearly three minutes. The closested he'd ever seen to something like this kind of greenery was Arroyo, and even then he'd never seen anything like cotton.

He heard Jupiter speak her concerns about getting the Princess to come along with them, and the giant paused for a moment, considering.

"Could always jus' so some magic in front of her. Did a pretty good job convincin' me." He drawled, lighting up a somewhat bent cigarette and taking a slow, satisfied drag. He paused again, considering.

"More concerned about the goddamn traitors. I got caps says we'll be going' through lotsa rebs to get to her, an' even more when we got her an' start headin' out. Also wouldn't mind paintin' a wall with Jefferson Davis' brains if we got the time to swing by Virginia. But no objection to the plan."
@The Whacko, you are so awesome!


I do my best. :)
Henry took to the technology lessons well enough, with the education he'd received while working for the Followers. He found the idea of microwaves a bit strange, but was glad that hot food wouldn't be a scarcity for once. The briefing about their first destination got him curious, though, and he wondered if the Confederacy was the same one his World's Union had beat hundreds of years ago. He'd found out he was right, too, and that boiled his blood. Goddamn traitors and slavers didn't deserve a world to rule. His skin was no problem, but he figured it would be a good idea to keep his Catholic and Irish roots discrete.

What had made him uncomfortable, though, was the girl. Ursula was her name, but she called herself "The Scythian" too. The big man's cheeks had gone dark red when he noticed her, and just how pretty she was, and he was glad for once that his face was dirty enough to keep from being too obvious. She seemed tough, too, which was just fine by him. He hoped she wouldn't get into much trouble here, having to hide her skin like she would here. If she did...well, that was what he kept The Boomstick for. And that fancy new keyblade of his.

"Well...this oughta be an extra special kinda fun." He drawled, checking the straps and belt on his leather armor one last time. "Hopin' I gonna hafta use any of my buckshot here."
Henry just stood and blinked at the weirdness going on around him at that moment. The wastelander frowned at the pointy-eared woman as she went in her little tiraid, and when things started to get really heated he'd let his hand drop to the sawed-off shotgun at his hip, though thankfully the others managed to calm her down before he'd had to draw iron. He shook his head and listened to the fellow named Rei talk. He and the girl, Jupiter were about the only ones making sense out of the squabbling.

"God Almighty, folk, let's jus' take it down a couple levels. We're here to fight the bad guys, not eachother. Back home only way to get things done is workin' with other folk, not startin' pissin' contests to see who's hometown sucked the most." He turned and offered as polite a bow as he could to the Byzantine emperor.

"Still confused as hell as to how this shit is goin' on, but you got my word I'll be doin' everythin' I can to set things right."
Henry had to admit that the view was mighty impressive. It was the first time he'd ever seen a city that wasn't crumbling buildings and shanties, and he marveled at some of the architecture, reminding him of an old picture book his father had shown him once. Byzantium, the book had said the place was called. Then he blinked, looking up sharply at the younger man that had spoken, Michael was his name.

"Wait...but...the book...it said Byzantium got conquored by the Muslims hundreds've years ago. How the hell's it still around...an'....wait..." He blinked again, the thoughts rattling around in his head. "How the hell does this place have a Byzantium too?"

His question trailed off when Michael described the Heartless, and the weirdos that were leading them. He promtply shut up, looking shamefaced at having interrupted such an important speech. He waited until the emperor was done before speaking again.

"Sorry for...uh...the rudeness, sir. All kinda new to me. But count me in on this. Ol' man always said the Almighty'd call me for sum'n great one day. Figure this is about as great as it gets."
Sorry, on it. Hate busy days.
So....this was a new experience. Henry Sullivan took a long, satisfied drag on the cigarette as he sat heavily on the heap of metal he guessed used to be a car. It was hard to tell with how mangled most of the scrap in the cargo hold was. Must have been stuff caught in the shockwave of one of the bombs when they fell over 180 years ago. The Moogles had been collecting lots of old tech, even bits of scrap metal like this. He didn't have time to ponder the former state of his seat right now, though. Right now he was more concerned about just what the hell the damn thing that had attacked him was, and where the Moogles were taking him now. They hadn't been in the mood for questions at the time. They'd just said, "Come with us, and you will have answers."

The thing that had attacked him...it'd been short, not much bigger than a dog. It looked a bit like a kid, in shape. But it had been...black. Inky black, like a shadow. And the eyes...they glowed gold and bright as a Glowing One. It'd taken buckshot like a champ, and the only thing that seemed to hurt it was the...thing in his hand. He guessed it was some kind of sword, but sure as hell not like the katanas that he'd seen those Yakuza boys carrying. It looked evil, but...it felt right, for some reason, in his hand. It'd just sort of appeared during the fight, right in time to catch the sucker in the chest. It'd gone up in smoke after that. And this was coming after all that crazy shit that was going on in NCR and the rest of the wasteland.

So now the wastelander sat and smoked, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on. He had the feeling that he wasn't going to like the answer.

"Hell...guess the Good Lord does work in mysterious ways..."

He sighed and let his cigarette drop, crushing it under his boot as he looked up at one of the tiny, white and red little critters waddling toward an old suit of power armor, probably bought off some scavenger that found a dead Brotherhood knight. It seemed like it was having the time of its life poking at it, seeing how it ticked. He couldn't help smiling at its glee.

The ship lurched suddely, slowing as it started to move to the right. The wastelander looked over at the Moogles curiously.

"Guessing' we're jus' about there? What's this place called again?" He asked, his voice deep and gravelly.
Sorry, will post today. Been a busy couple days.
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