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- Verticus 7 yrs ago
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5 yrs ago
Current
Terraria jungle jam hits differently
5 yrs ago
Coney Island Chili Dog > Chicago Dog. Fuck you Chicago. Fuck you Baltimore.
5 yrs ago
Boiled > Microwaved hot dogs
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5 yrs ago
I got a gun, no girls.
6 yrs ago
You're not proving me wrong. Alvin and the Chipmunks still == Nightcore Classic Rock
Bio
I'm just a man, I'm here to play roles. That's about it. If you want more, ask for more.
I don't bite.
Discord: Verticus#0823 Steam: Verticus Blizzard: Verticus#11125
Most Recent Posts
A new pawn enters the fold of this temporal chess game, rather an individual newly revealed to be of any importance within this realm. Garrett Everard, a Knight of The Sun makes his debut at the Castle in Vrondi. Of course, it would be self evident that one such Knight would be at such a high profile gathering, seeing as his allegiance is towards those who work with the Vrondians. Watching the party for some time, Garrett would become quite bored with the lack of any real problems occurring within the party, either due to well placed guards, or well placed criminals. Either way, he did not like standing around doing nothing for too long.
Being at the party, he would gather many stares at how unkempt his armor was, dust and dirt caked on the metal and the lack of shine made him seem like an old, weathered statue that hadn't been cleaned in ages than a real living person beneath the armor itself. He grew tired of the tedium of such a lush party. He started to patrol the grounds around the party itself, it seemed quieter and more prone for a keen eye to point something not of the ordinary. In doing so, he found himself staring at a 'servant' giddily counting some newly acquired gold coins. Of course, any sane person would be curious as to where he had gotten such boons, but it had nothing to do with protecting the people of the party. He looked around the exterior of the banquet hall, before returning to the entrance, deciding to mingle with the 'help'. Moving around the banquet he would introduce himself to the gregarious party goers just to get his mind off of not doing anything for the remainder of the feast.
Being at the party, he would gather many stares at how unkempt his armor was, dust and dirt caked on the metal and the lack of shine made him seem like an old, weathered statue that hadn't been cleaned in ages than a real living person beneath the armor itself. He grew tired of the tedium of such a lush party. He started to patrol the grounds around the party itself, it seemed quieter and more prone for a keen eye to point something not of the ordinary. In doing so, he found himself staring at a 'servant' giddily counting some newly acquired gold coins. Of course, any sane person would be curious as to where he had gotten such boons, but it had nothing to do with protecting the people of the party. He looked around the exterior of the banquet hall, before returning to the entrance, deciding to mingle with the 'help'. Moving around the banquet he would introduce himself to the gregarious party goers just to get his mind off of not doing anything for the remainder of the feast.
Good friends: 
Friends: 
Likes: 
Neutral: 
Hates: 
Unsure: 
Respects: 
Lust: 
Annoyed: 
Amused: 
If I get to be a goblin slayer I'm in
:v ooh.
Let's see where this goes
Medieval Fantasy is right up my alley.
CFA-Section 19
Alvirstein Division:
'Paladin'
Current Deployment: Jupiter's Moon, Callisto
Current Time: 14:31 Post Meridian, Earth Standard Time, 2207.
Current Assignment: Subversion.
Considering both options very carefully, he assumed the best of both sides of the fence, accessing interim Martian info-space through the transponder he selected through his console, pulling up the contact information of a growing, yet dormant extremist group set in the Martian commons.
"Our best option now would be to call upon one or some of the unsettled groups in the Martian social areas to incite some protests at the front of the Palace, something about unjust subjugation and rule seems about right to incur some picketed wrath of the people. This would avoid the escalation for the Royal shadows to commence executive defense of the inner machinations of the Palace itself."
Ry paused, taking a moment to consider come what may from such a proxy-devised manner of conducting an operation.
"Rather keep to their regular duties as, protests, are protests, that will be suppressed sooner or later. This idea will only thin out the guards from various non-vital areas for infiltration of the Palace, we will, however, need to take any stealth matters into our own hands once inside, meaning the blood is on our hands in regards to what we do, or who we kill. If we do go guns blazing, our window will be extremely short before the whole P.D.F. is against us, so preferably, after we chase the lead to a new point, is when we start being reckless to-exfil."
Stating this he would pull up Crime-report sheets on various socially active groups, as well as extremist groups whom favor the aspect of anti-establishment, anti-subjugation causes, ashing the butt of his cigarette against the top of the console, placing the crumpled butt in a conveniently placed disposal tray adjacent to the area where he ashed his cigarette, he would wipe the ashes on the counter into his hand, which he would place in a tactical pouch connected to his suit.
"Our best option now would be to call upon one or some of the unsettled groups in the Martian social areas to incite some protests at the front of the Palace, something about unjust subjugation and rule seems about right to incur some picketed wrath of the people. This would avoid the escalation for the Royal shadows to commence executive defense of the inner machinations of the Palace itself."
Ry paused, taking a moment to consider come what may from such a proxy-devised manner of conducting an operation.
"Rather keep to their regular duties as, protests, are protests, that will be suppressed sooner or later. This idea will only thin out the guards from various non-vital areas for infiltration of the Palace, we will, however, need to take any stealth matters into our own hands once inside, meaning the blood is on our hands in regards to what we do, or who we kill. If we do go guns blazing, our window will be extremely short before the whole P.D.F. is against us, so preferably, after we chase the lead to a new point, is when we start being reckless to-exfil."
Stating this he would pull up Crime-report sheets on various socially active groups, as well as extremist groups whom favor the aspect of anti-establishment, anti-subjugation causes, ashing the butt of his cigarette against the top of the console, placing the crumpled butt in a conveniently placed disposal tray adjacent to the area where he ashed his cigarette, he would wipe the ashes on the counter into his hand, which he would place in a tactical pouch connected to his suit.
CFA-Section 19
Alvirstein Division:
'Paladin'
Current Deployment: Jupiter's Moon, Callisto
Current Time: 14:29 Post Meridian, Earth Standard Time, 2207.
Current Assignment: Recommendation.
Ryland furrowed his brows as Aela pined for his attention in a lewd manner, a vein in his forehead becoming slightly apparent as he bottles his emotions with some tact, looking away with a rising reddening on the tips of his ears he would return to the current task at hand. Taking a proper sitting posture whilst facing his terminal connected to the overview, he would tap his armored gloves against the keys atop the console, segregating the overview to have both a view of the will, and the planet of Mars, in particular the Capitol's Star-port being highlighted, as well as a Martian rim-space transponder buoy.
"My recommendation for now is to send the Carrion under the shadow of this particular transponder buoy, and sew dissent into dormant terrorist cells, and factions in the Martian Capitol, particularly contacting them and making some brave promises in return for action, to at least distract the Grey's security divisions from the Royal Gravesite to more important sectors of the Palace, allowing us ample time to infiltrate the site."
Astorix sighed, weighing the options of proxy wars. Zooming the focus on the planet of Mars onto the marker known as the space-port
"If such an option is not possible, I recommend groundwork once landed at the Capitol's main space-port, and attempting pure infiltration tactics and subversion."
Nodding, he would await the crew's opinions on his recommendations, paying close attention to ignoring Aela on the chance she would attempt to break his bearing of seriousness, smirking as such attempts slightly fail as he would scan the crew-mates with his eyes, looking over at Nikki, he would state;
"Nikki, the coordinates are set through my console if you want to get a head-start."
Before returning to expecting some input from the crew he had been assigned to.
"My recommendation for now is to send the Carrion under the shadow of this particular transponder buoy, and sew dissent into dormant terrorist cells, and factions in the Martian Capitol, particularly contacting them and making some brave promises in return for action, to at least distract the Grey's security divisions from the Royal Gravesite to more important sectors of the Palace, allowing us ample time to infiltrate the site."
Astorix sighed, weighing the options of proxy wars. Zooming the focus on the planet of Mars onto the marker known as the space-port
"If such an option is not possible, I recommend groundwork once landed at the Capitol's main space-port, and attempting pure infiltration tactics and subversion."
Nodding, he would await the crew's opinions on his recommendations, paying close attention to ignoring Aela on the chance she would attempt to break his bearing of seriousness, smirking as such attempts slightly fail as he would scan the crew-mates with his eyes, looking over at Nikki, he would state;
"Nikki, the coordinates are set through my console if you want to get a head-start."
Before returning to expecting some input from the crew he had been assigned to.
CFA-Section 19
Alvirstein Division:
'Paladin'
Current Deployment: Jupiter's Moon, Callisto
Current Time: 14:25 Post Meridian, Earth Standard Time, 2207.
Current Assignment: Investigation.
Ryland would smirk as Savis did his scolding and subsequent action aboard the bridge of the Carrion.
"I guess we found the shape."
He would smile at seeing the crew of the Carrion gather into one place in the stead of their respective corners or areas they have marked as their own 'territories', sitting further back into his chair he would take a prolonged drag of his Mars Red 100 brand cigarette, blowing the smoke directly upwards into the ceiling, allowing the smoke to collect in thin clouds above the inhabitants of the 'Carrion' before switching his concentrations from the will, to Savis, to the will again, observing both his statement and the will itself.
"If I am able to pitch my cents into this community chest, I would like to exclaim in a clock maker's detail that the will itself is flawed in the sense of searching as to why it is flawed, in particular the words-- "
Astorix would press his glove against the holographic console in front of him displaying the will, bringing up an indication marker on where he is touching, the letters that spell out grave.
"That make themselves stand out above the others. Heh. It also doesn't make sense that the witness to her will could most likely be her grandfather. Might be his grave that is being exclaimed, if we can triangulate that position."
Nodding to himself he would look over Savis to analyze his reaction; Ryland obviously spent a few more minutes staring at the will and any of the first-served crackpot theories surrounding the will itself, he would inhale more of the burning nicotine from his cancer-stick, blowing another cloud into the ceiling, before looking over the other crew-members.
"Please don't tell me I'm just blowing smoke here."
He would smile at his witticism, being able to freely say something so groan-inducing in search of second-opinions from those around him seemed so relaxing to the point he couldn't help himself from stating such a horrible thing. He waited patiently for additional responses regarding the will, from those he was obligated to trust and work with as per contractual agreement with the 'man'.
"I guess we found the shape."
He would smile at seeing the crew of the Carrion gather into one place in the stead of their respective corners or areas they have marked as their own 'territories', sitting further back into his chair he would take a prolonged drag of his Mars Red 100 brand cigarette, blowing the smoke directly upwards into the ceiling, allowing the smoke to collect in thin clouds above the inhabitants of the 'Carrion' before switching his concentrations from the will, to Savis, to the will again, observing both his statement and the will itself.
"If I am able to pitch my cents into this community chest, I would like to exclaim in a clock maker's detail that the will itself is flawed in the sense of searching as to why it is flawed, in particular the words-- "
Astorix would press his glove against the holographic console in front of him displaying the will, bringing up an indication marker on where he is touching, the letters that spell out grave.
"That make themselves stand out above the others. Heh. It also doesn't make sense that the witness to her will could most likely be her grandfather. Might be his grave that is being exclaimed, if we can triangulate that position."
Nodding to himself he would look over Savis to analyze his reaction; Ryland obviously spent a few more minutes staring at the will and any of the first-served crackpot theories surrounding the will itself, he would inhale more of the burning nicotine from his cancer-stick, blowing another cloud into the ceiling, before looking over the other crew-members.
"Please don't tell me I'm just blowing smoke here."
He would smile at his witticism, being able to freely say something so groan-inducing in search of second-opinions from those around him seemed so relaxing to the point he couldn't help himself from stating such a horrible thing. He waited patiently for additional responses regarding the will, from those he was obligated to trust and work with as per contractual agreement with the 'man'.
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