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SkeankySnack,
DELETED08741,
VerdauxDeux,
pollo
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7 yrs ago
Current
Oh Christ it's Christmas.
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7 yrs ago
Finals! Finals? Finals... *drools*
1
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8 yrs ago
Dippling crepression? Posteo-orosis?
2
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8 yrs ago
The definition of insanity? Finals.
1
like
8 yrs ago
When your crush takes months to get over their own, but they only give you three days to go back to the friend zone. MLK Jr. help me.
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Most Recent Posts
Alphonse sighed as he popped his knuckles, before looking out and around his cockpit for answers. Here, he had sketches of his daughter. There, he had mildew creeping up on the corner of a window pane.
"Like it or not, if McGraw plans on returning, he'll destroy this base. We leave now, and we won't have a place to come back to. It'll be the same as our base all over again.
And if it's McGraw that personally did this, I think we'd be outgunned. Unless..."
Alphonse leaned forward as he gazed at the night sky. The clouds were a little far; maybe only the rabbit or the Ace would be able to fly fast enough to even call it an ambush. Though, with night approaching, the cold air could drop them just low enough...
"...Roland, would you think the clouds are low and thick enough for an ambush? I don't have any other options, other than personally killing the man himself. If we can't pull off an ambush, I wouldn't mind hijacking a locker. Shouldn't be any different from breaking into a house."
Surprising, really, that so far there's only been anti-air combat. If he only had adjusted for this, the decision wouldn't have been so difficult. Still, the effort was too late. All there was to do was to rationalize the best course of action.
"Like it or not, if McGraw plans on returning, he'll destroy this base. We leave now, and we won't have a place to come back to. It'll be the same as our base all over again.
And if it's McGraw that personally did this, I think we'd be outgunned. Unless..."
Alphonse leaned forward as he gazed at the night sky. The clouds were a little far; maybe only the rabbit or the Ace would be able to fly fast enough to even call it an ambush. Though, with night approaching, the cold air could drop them just low enough...
"...Roland, would you think the clouds are low and thick enough for an ambush? I don't have any other options, other than personally killing the man himself. If we can't pull off an ambush, I wouldn't mind hijacking a locker. Shouldn't be any different from breaking into a house."
Surprising, really, that so far there's only been anti-air combat. If he only had adjusted for this, the decision wouldn't have been so difficult. Still, the effort was too late. All there was to do was to rationalize the best course of action.
Name:
Age:
Demon Type:
Bio:
Special abilities:
Image:
Veronica R. Rosier
Age:
Younger / Lesser (give me an average age and I'll work my way around it)
Demon Type:
Cambion-Succubus
Bio:
Born under the secondary echelon of Rosier, Veronica was a rare gem among her peers and siblings, which consisted entirely of brothers both manifesting as wisps and mortals wreaking havoc upon the lives of many a decent town with savage rape-murders. It had been, by then, a trend for the Rosiers to abandon their initial reputation as conniving tempters and temptresses in turn for more violent methods. For the family, having a female temptress would be a great stepping stone to reclaiming the family name, and so when she was of adolescence, she was groomed to be a duplicitous charmer by her lecherous step-father, her submissive mother, and of course, her siblings disguised as rowdy neighbors. By the time she was even aware of her lineage, she had firmly embraced and consigned herself to making deceit. More or less, she was the first contracted demon within the Rosier household in generations.
Though many of her contracts include a harmless prank (or perhaps a few dozen to scare the hell out of some ornery old hag), she, every so often, received an assignment of much more importance. This was one of them.
Special abilities:
- Forget-Me-Not - Veronica can, over the course of a few minutes, take on a different complexion and facial structure belonging to human females of adolescence to young adulthood. Eye color, brow lines, even the suppleness of her cheeks could be modified within due time.
- Vivacity - Veronica is capable of goading on feelings of lust, so long as such an emotion exists in the first place. She can, with enough focus and practice, at some point even revitalize her targets to continue to pursue and fall for her with suggestions of the mind. Of course, it won't work quite as well as before if she's done it too often, or fails too conspicuously.
- Penumbra - Within especially dark shadows, Veronica can travel faster than most humans could, making night time affairs more or less a cakewalk.
Image:
As Alphonse descended from formation, he locked his body up to provide a buffer against the G forces. However light, he disliked rapid descents, and this routine drop was not in the least any more forgiving than the drops he experienced on his way out of Nova Scotia. Anything more, and his bowels might just fail on him. Come to think of it, he flexed after the descent, right?
And did the porridge have milk?
Well, what's more important was that in case Iceland had a change in mind to switch to shitstorm-flak-it-all mode, his team would be far away enough to avoid something like flak by a few seconds in advance.
"I think it'd be a good idea for the rest of you guys to just pull ba-PPPPPPPBBBBBPBPBPBBFFFFFFFFT."
...
Did he mention he was lactose intolerant?
So in the silence of shame, the searchlights went up, and began to pan across the land.
And did the porridge have milk?
Well, what's more important was that in case Iceland had a change in mind to switch to shitstorm-flak-it-all mode, his team would be far away enough to avoid something like flak by a few seconds in advance.
"I think it'd be a good idea for the rest of you guys to just pull ba-PPPPPPPBBBBBPBPBPBBFFFFFFFFT."
...
Did he mention he was lactose intolerant?
So in the silence of shame, the searchlights went up, and began to pan across the land.
"D'Aramitz, no problems on your three...or starboard."
Alphonse huffed a little as his transmission went off as he tightened his bandages. As usual, he was snapping his head left and right, and at the screen that allowed him to view his rear.
Most of the autopilot was torn off to make way for the refurbishments, so he had to make it a habit to always keep a hand on the stick when he wasn't fully paying attention to turbulence, winds, etc. Granted, once he was at a relatively fast momentum, hurtling through the air with a craft as large as his wasn't too bad, given his momentum and mass. The sheer size had to make him doubt every now and then.
Still, when he was half-awake, he contemplated on Roland's words.
At the very least, Alphonse knew the guy's issues. Roland was far too accustomed to passive roles. And though he might've thought he got over it, he was still shoving the responsibilities onto his team.
But you guys, you won't make the same mistakes we did, you will all be each others Aces, each other's protectors, I can see it in the way you all fight together.
At least he got a few names.
Donnie.
Ajay.
Phillip.
Li.
He wasn't particularly new to the flight scene, but perhaps he could emulate one or the other's tactics, or if he was lucky (considering he hadn't died yet for his crimes, unlike so many others, he felt like a million bucks), Alphonse could track down their legacy in one way or another. Maybe their mechanics, or a witness to their maneuvers. The Sky Warriors used to be a forced to be reckoned with.
It wouldn't be too hard imagining ways to make them once again. It all had to start, though, with finding out what kind of people were the first.
Alphonse huffed a little as his transmission went off as he tightened his bandages. As usual, he was snapping his head left and right, and at the screen that allowed him to view his rear.
Most of the autopilot was torn off to make way for the refurbishments, so he had to make it a habit to always keep a hand on the stick when he wasn't fully paying attention to turbulence, winds, etc. Granted, once he was at a relatively fast momentum, hurtling through the air with a craft as large as his wasn't too bad, given his momentum and mass. The sheer size had to make him doubt every now and then.
Still, when he was half-awake, he contemplated on Roland's words.
At the very least, Alphonse knew the guy's issues. Roland was far too accustomed to passive roles. And though he might've thought he got over it, he was still shoving the responsibilities onto his team.
But you guys, you won't make the same mistakes we did, you will all be each others Aces, each other's protectors, I can see it in the way you all fight together.
At least he got a few names.
Donnie.
Ajay.
Phillip.
Li.
He wasn't particularly new to the flight scene, but perhaps he could emulate one or the other's tactics, or if he was lucky (considering he hadn't died yet for his crimes, unlike so many others, he felt like a million bucks), Alphonse could track down their legacy in one way or another. Maybe their mechanics, or a witness to their maneuvers. The Sky Warriors used to be a forced to be reckoned with.
It wouldn't be too hard imagining ways to make them once again. It all had to start, though, with finding out what kind of people were the first.
Alphonse knew the experience of loss all too well, but for him at least...well, there was always a reason for Fate to flip the bird on him.
Not that it was too personal, at least for him. His daughter was in London, or somewhere along the lines of the isle, probably living a good life or working in a brothel. Either way, he had done all he could on his part. To take care of himself and perhaps others that could still use a good haven, he had a body and a plane to work with, as well as a team of other like-minded people. They'd probably turn on him if they knew what kind of life he lived not a few years ago...
Oh.
It was too bad he forgot to smuggle the coffee...or did he?
Alphonse came back to the hangar in record time, with a cup o' joe in his hands. Call it an airman thing, but coffee never ceased to exist in any place, as far as he knew it. In a world full of change, perhaps coffee was the only constant left. It was the reason why there was an aluminum beaker among his other articles, why he always had a surplus of water. The bonus was that because of his (supposed) leprosy, many hesitated to share a drink. So he drank and drank, waiting for everyone else to leave.
"Roland," Alphonse grunted as he made his way over to his leader, once everyone had asked their questions, "I'm not going to console you. To be frank, their lives were in their hands, and the anti-air turrets had the responsibility of this base. Those who used the turrets failed their job, and paid for it with their lives. Our job was to make a haven to prevent things like this from happening, and I know everyone has their own reasons to do so."
He glanced over at the other pilots trying to get a moment of respite.
"I personally think it's impossible to achieve without scraping the tainted flesh away, if you know what I mean. For a fact, I know that Bram's flock will be looking for retribution, so getting a start to this cauterizing business isn't going to be hard. If the worst-case scenario comes about, and so far it always has, we'll be in the sights of people like the Red Baron one day.
I could be wrong though. Your guilt may actually have some weight, if your vision of the Sky Warriors included us being the shining knights in white armor that lived by seeing things through, not just trying our best.
I'll leave that for you to answer on your own time."
Alphonse took a few gulps, and hacked.
"My only question is this :
Are you going to be our ace or not when this shit hits the fan? If you want to do more, be more, you have the responsibility of turning us into more than the sum of our parts, which means you have to do it when we can't. The ace covers his wingmen's slip-ups, not cheering for what little we are expected to do."
In retrospect, this was nothing close to Alphonse's true feelings about the matter. If anything, he couldn't give two damns less if Roland was still a bad pilot at his full potential, but the truth said otherwise.
He had to push Roland to be something more than he ought to be; that's how Alphonse himself got to where he was right now. Had he congratulated himself for raising a sane girl in the most deplorable place in the world, he would've ended up as some lecher among lechers. Resisting his temptation brought him to the level of "any father that would", meaning he only hit the borderline of "normal".
What if you took a "normal" and pushed him to be something more?
Not that it was too personal, at least for him. His daughter was in London, or somewhere along the lines of the isle, probably living a good life or working in a brothel. Either way, he had done all he could on his part. To take care of himself and perhaps others that could still use a good haven, he had a body and a plane to work with, as well as a team of other like-minded people. They'd probably turn on him if they knew what kind of life he lived not a few years ago...
Oh.
It was too bad he forgot to smuggle the coffee...or did he?
Alphonse came back to the hangar in record time, with a cup o' joe in his hands. Call it an airman thing, but coffee never ceased to exist in any place, as far as he knew it. In a world full of change, perhaps coffee was the only constant left. It was the reason why there was an aluminum beaker among his other articles, why he always had a surplus of water. The bonus was that because of his (supposed) leprosy, many hesitated to share a drink. So he drank and drank, waiting for everyone else to leave.
"Roland," Alphonse grunted as he made his way over to his leader, once everyone had asked their questions, "I'm not going to console you. To be frank, their lives were in their hands, and the anti-air turrets had the responsibility of this base. Those who used the turrets failed their job, and paid for it with their lives. Our job was to make a haven to prevent things like this from happening, and I know everyone has their own reasons to do so."
He glanced over at the other pilots trying to get a moment of respite.
"I personally think it's impossible to achieve without scraping the tainted flesh away, if you know what I mean. For a fact, I know that Bram's flock will be looking for retribution, so getting a start to this cauterizing business isn't going to be hard. If the worst-case scenario comes about, and so far it always has, we'll be in the sights of people like the Red Baron one day.
I could be wrong though. Your guilt may actually have some weight, if your vision of the Sky Warriors included us being the shining knights in white armor that lived by seeing things through, not just trying our best.
I'll leave that for you to answer on your own time."
Alphonse took a few gulps, and hacked.
"My only question is this :
Are you going to be our ace or not when this shit hits the fan? If you want to do more, be more, you have the responsibility of turning us into more than the sum of our parts, which means you have to do it when we can't. The ace covers his wingmen's slip-ups, not cheering for what little we are expected to do."
In retrospect, this was nothing close to Alphonse's true feelings about the matter. If anything, he couldn't give two damns less if Roland was still a bad pilot at his full potential, but the truth said otherwise.
He had to push Roland to be something more than he ought to be; that's how Alphonse himself got to where he was right now. Had he congratulated himself for raising a sane girl in the most deplorable place in the world, he would've ended up as some lecher among lechers. Resisting his temptation brought him to the level of "any father that would", meaning he only hit the borderline of "normal".
What if you took a "normal" and pushed him to be something more?
Right then and there, Alphonse punched his flare missile and killed two of his outermost turbines, essentially dragging him into a dead drop. He wanted to move out of harm's way, and fast. At least, from a slightly lower altitude, he might've considered hitting the belly, but Izzy was making her intentions quite clear to stay out.
As he stalled, Alphonse pondered the thought and revived the turbines, pushing him to a downwards dive. Here, he clenched his teeth and flexed his entire body as he pulled up, disallowing his innards to be subjected to the G-forces. By the time he leveled himself out, Izzy would have just begun the dive, leaving Alphonse little else to do other than leave the plane automatically at a gentle incline upwards while he crawled over to a little terminal off the the side cockpit.
A fuzzy camera allowed viewing of the tail end, and though it was rather unclear, he could at least get the general make of a given plane. So long as Reggie was in sight, he might get a chance to pitter-patter his pursuant.
"Reggie, I need you to make a quick pass above me. I can use the tail gun to shred the paparazzi behind you."
As he stalled, Alphonse pondered the thought and revived the turbines, pushing him to a downwards dive. Here, he clenched his teeth and flexed his entire body as he pulled up, disallowing his innards to be subjected to the G-forces. By the time he leveled himself out, Izzy would have just begun the dive, leaving Alphonse little else to do other than leave the plane automatically at a gentle incline upwards while he crawled over to a little terminal off the the side cockpit.
A fuzzy camera allowed viewing of the tail end, and though it was rather unclear, he could at least get the general make of a given plane. So long as Reggie was in sight, he might get a chance to pitter-patter his pursuant.
"Reggie, I need you to make a quick pass above me. I can use the tail gun to shred the paparazzi behind you."
Name:
Age:
Demon Type:
Bio:
Special abilities:
Image:
Veronica R. Rosier
Age:
Younger / Lesser (give me an average age and I'll work my way around it)
Demon Type:
Cambion-Succubus
Bio:
Born under the secondary echelon of Rosier, Veronica was a rare gem among her peers and siblings, which consisted entirely of brothers both manifesting as wisps and mortals wreaking havoc upon the lives of many a decent town with savage rape-murders. It had been, by then, a trend for the Rosiers to abandon their initial reputation as conniving tempters and temptresses in turn for more violent methods. For the family, having a female temptress would be a great stepping stone to reclaiming the family name, and so when she was of adolescence, she was groomed to be a duplicitous charmer by her lecherous step-father, her submissive mother, and of course, her siblings disguised as rowdy neighbors. By the time she was even aware of her lineage, she had firmly embraced and consigned herself to making deceit. More or less, she was the first contracted demon within the Rosier household in generations.
Though many of her contracts include a harmless prank (or perhaps a few dozen to scare the hell out of some ornery old hag), she, every so often, received an assignment of much more importance. This was one of them.
Special abilities:
- Forget-Me-Not - Veronica can, over the course of a few minutes, take on a different complexion and facial structure belonging to human females of adolescence to young adulthood. Eye color, brow lines, even the suppleness of her cheeks could be modified within due time.
- Vivacity - Veronica is capable of goading on feelings of lust, so long as such an emotion exists in the first place. She can, with enough focus and practice, at some point even revitalize her targets to continue to pursue and fall for her with suggestions of the mind. Of course, it won't work quite as well as before if she's done it too often, or fails too conspicuously.
- Penumbra - Within especially dark shadows, Veronica can travel faster than most humans could, making night time affairs more or less a cakewalk.
Image:
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