“Good. I didn’t want to have to use any High Magic. Now will you explain yourself?”
"These ******** are part of a terrorist organization. If this entire planet will be collateral damage, so be it." He motions to the mech, and its hatch closes and it stands up.
“Well, I’m a multiverse-traveling researcher and I’ve never heard of anything of the sort. But maybe I’ve been looking in the wrong places.” Thirteen muses.
"Man places in this wide 'verse." He starts walking towards the tavern, turning his back to the smoldering forest. "Who are you?" The mech follows a dozen meters behind.
“You, and most everyone around me, can call me Thirteen. I am a writer, traveler, scientist, and hunter of unspeakable evils. I also like cats.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
“Good. I didn’t want to have to use any High Magic. Now will you explain yourself?”
"These ******** are part of a terrorist organization. If this entire planet will be collateral damage, so be it." He motions to the mech, and its hatch closes and it stands up.
“Well, I’m a multiverse-traveling researcher and I’ve never heard of anything of the sort. But maybe I’ve been looking in the wrong places.” Thirteen muses.
"Man places in this wide 'verse." He starts walking towards the tavern, turning his back to the smoldering forest. "Who are you?" The mech follows a dozen meters behind.
“You, and most everyone around me, can call me Thirteen. I am a writer, traveler, scientist, and hunter of unspeakable evils. I also like cats.”
The man shakes their hand. "Call me Harrison. John Creighton Harrison. My mech over there is Agni, and I was wondering where I could get wasted tonight."
11. The weak swordsman clings to his instrument. It is better you have a sword, but death must lie under your fingernails, if need be. Learn death with your elbows, death with your knees, and death with your thumbs and fingertips. It is said death with the tongue is useful, but I find words too soft an instrument to smash a man’s skull.
"It's Scylla. What an ass." They start to move, and the man launches a shot into the person's face. He flips the body back over with his foot. "Dog."
He winces. “I hope you have a decent reason for shooting them in the face. That’s not a common greeting, typically.”
"That's the greeting I got last time." He beckons to the mech, and the hatch closes, and it follows him a dozen meters behind. He pokes around, looking around for any other survivors in the ashes.
“So this defenseless man attacked you, a guy in a flaming mech?” He follows, carefully watching around.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
— δ cyno • he/him • number one paladin fanδ — making a smoothie for meta ——————| EXTENDED SIG |—————— Φ • happily married to my lovely redpelt, minmaxer, microbiology undergrad, and lover of anything colored red • Φ
“Good. I didn’t want to have to use any High Magic. Now will you explain yourself?”
"These ******** are part of a terrorist organization. If this entire planet will be collateral damage, so be it." He motions to the mech, and its hatch closes and it stands up.
“Well, I’m a multiverse-traveling researcher and I’ve never heard of anything of the sort. But maybe I’ve been looking in the wrong places.” Thirteen muses.
"Man places in this wide 'verse." He starts walking towards the tavern, turning his back to the smoldering forest. "Who are you?" The mech follows a dozen meters behind.
“You, and most everyone around me, can call me Thirteen. I am a writer, traveler, scientist, and hunter of unspeakable evils. I also like cats.”
The man shakes their hand. "Call me Harrison. John Creighton Harrison. My mech over there is Agni, and I was wondering where I could get wasted tonight."
“There’s an inn that houses plenty of stranger folk than you about… twelve yards away or so?”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"It's Scylla. What an ass." They start to move, and the man launches a shot into the person's face. He flips the body back over with his foot. "Dog."
He winces. “I hope you have a decent reason for shooting them in the face. That’s not a common greeting, typically.”
"That's the greeting I got last time." He beckons to the mech, and the hatch closes, and it follows him a dozen meters behind. He pokes around, looking around for any other survivors in the ashes.
“So this defenseless man attacked you, a guy in a flaming mech?” He follows, carefully watching around.
"Attacked? No. I was part of a raid on one of their bases. Deimos appeared in cradle's orbit, and I was part of the forward team. I'm guessing MONIST-1 disappeared Deimos again, and now I'm here." He kicks around a stick with his heavy metal boot. "I need a drink."
11. The weak swordsman clings to his instrument. It is better you have a sword, but death must lie under your fingernails, if need be. Learn death with your elbows, death with your knees, and death with your thumbs and fingertips. It is said death with the tongue is useful, but I find words too soft an instrument to smash a man’s skull.
“Good. I didn’t want to have to use any High Magic. Now will you explain yourself?”
"These ******** are part of a terrorist organization. If this entire planet will be collateral damage, so be it." He motions to the mech, and its hatch closes and it stands up.
“Well, I’m a multiverse-traveling researcher and I’ve never heard of anything of the sort. But maybe I’ve been looking in the wrong places.” Thirteen muses.
"Man places in this wide 'verse." He starts walking towards the tavern, turning his back to the smoldering forest. "Who are you?" The mech follows a dozen meters behind.
“You, and most everyone around me, can call me Thirteen. I am a writer, traveler, scientist, and hunter of unspeakable evils. I also like cats.”
The man shakes their hand. "Call me Harrison. John Creighton Harrison. My mech over there is Agni, and I was wondering where I could get wasted tonight."
“There’s an inn that houses plenty of stranger folk than you about… twelve yards away or so?”
"Sounds good." He waves at the mech, and it walks off. He starts walking to the tavern.
11. The weak swordsman clings to his instrument. It is better you have a sword, but death must lie under your fingernails, if need be. Learn death with your elbows, death with your knees, and death with your thumbs and fingertips. It is said death with the tongue is useful, but I find words too soft an instrument to smash a man’s skull.
"Attacked? No. I was part of a raid on one of their bases. Deimos appeared in cradle's orbit, and I was part of the forward team. I'm guessing MONIST-1 disappeared Deimos again, and now I'm here." He kicks around a stick with his heavy metal boot. "I need a drink."
“I have… absolutely no clue as to what you’ve just said. I’ll walk you to the tavern and hopefully we can have a civil conversation? My name is Kosa.” He slings his glaive back over his shoulder.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
— δ cyno • he/him • number one paladin fanδ — making a smoothie for meta ——————| EXTENDED SIG |—————— Φ • happily married to my lovely redpelt, minmaxer, microbiology undergrad, and lover of anything colored red • Φ
“Good. I didn’t want to have to use any High Magic. Now will you explain yourself?”
"These ******** are part of a terrorist organization. If this entire planet will be collateral damage, so be it." He motions to the mech, and its hatch closes and it stands up.
“Well, I’m a multiverse-traveling researcher and I’ve never heard of anything of the sort. But maybe I’ve been looking in the wrong places.” Thirteen muses.
"Man places in this wide 'verse." He starts walking towards the tavern, turning his back to the smoldering forest. "Who are you?" The mech follows a dozen meters behind.
“You, and most everyone around me, can call me Thirteen. I am a writer, traveler, scientist, and hunter of unspeakable evils. I also like cats.”
The man shakes their hand. "Call me Harrison. John Creighton Harrison. My mech over there is Agni, and I was wondering where I could get wasted tonight."
“There’s an inn that houses plenty of stranger folk than you about… twelve yards away or so?”
"Sounds good." He waves at the mech, and it walks off. He starts walking to the tavern.
“Wait!” He calls to Harrison.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Attacked? No. I was part of a raid on one of their bases. Deimos appeared in cradle's orbit, and I was part of the forward team. I'm guessing MONIST-1 disappeared Deimos again, and now I'm here." He kicks around a stick with his heavy metal boot. "I need a drink."
“I have… absolutely no clue as to what you’ve just said. I’ll walk you to the tavern and hopefully we can have a civil conversation? My name is Kosa.” He slings his glaive back over his shoulder.
"Hello Kosa. My name is John Creighton Harrison. I would love to go to a tavern right now." He tosses his rifle into the cockpit, and grabs a handgun and a small package. He waves off the mech, and it walks away.
11. The weak swordsman clings to his instrument. It is better you have a sword, but death must lie under your fingernails, if need be. Learn death with your elbows, death with your knees, and death with your thumbs and fingertips. It is said death with the tongue is useful, but I find words too soft an instrument to smash a man’s skull.
“Good. I didn’t want to have to use any High Magic. Now will you explain yourself?”
"These ******** are part of a terrorist organization. If this entire planet will be collateral damage, so be it." He motions to the mech, and its hatch closes and it stands up.
“Well, I’m a multiverse-traveling researcher and I’ve never heard of anything of the sort. But maybe I’ve been looking in the wrong places.” Thirteen muses.
"Man places in this wide 'verse." He starts walking towards the tavern, turning his back to the smoldering forest. "Who are you?" The mech follows a dozen meters behind.
“You, and most everyone around me, can call me Thirteen. I am a writer, traveler, scientist, and hunter of unspeakable evils. I also like cats.”
The man shakes their hand. "Call me Harrison. John Creighton Harrison. My mech over there is Agni, and I was wondering where I could get wasted tonight."
“There’s an inn that houses plenty of stranger folk than you about… twelve yards away or so?”
"Sounds good." He waves at the mech, and it walks off. He starts walking to the tavern.
11. The weak swordsman clings to his instrument. It is better you have a sword, but death must lie under your fingernails, if need be. Learn death with your elbows, death with your knees, and death with your thumbs and fingertips. It is said death with the tongue is useful, but I find words too soft an instrument to smash a man’s skull.
"Hello Kosa. My name is John Creighton Harrison. I would love to go to a tavern right now." He tosses his rifle into the cockpit, and grabs a handgun and a small package. He waves off the mech, and it walks away.
Kosa watches in slight confusion. “This way.” He heads into the tavern, greeting the bartender before ordering himself a drink. “Just.. you can put yours on my tab.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
— δ cyno • he/him • number one paladin fanδ — making a smoothie for meta ——————| EXTENDED SIG |—————— Φ • happily married to my lovely redpelt, minmaxer, microbiology undergrad, and lover of anything colored red • Φ
“Good. I didn’t want to have to use any High Magic. Now will you explain yourself?”
"These ******** are part of a terrorist organization. If this entire planet will be collateral damage, so be it." He motions to the mech, and its hatch closes and it stands up.
“Well, I’m a multiverse-traveling researcher and I’ve never heard of anything of the sort. But maybe I’ve been looking in the wrong places.” Thirteen muses.
"Man places in this wide 'verse." He starts walking towards the tavern, turning his back to the smoldering forest. "Who are you?" The mech follows a dozen meters behind.
“You, and most everyone around me, can call me Thirteen. I am a writer, traveler, scientist, and hunter of unspeakable evils. I also like cats.”
The man shakes their hand. "Call me Harrison. John Creighton Harrison. My mech over there is Agni, and I was wondering where I could get wasted tonight."
“There’s an inn that houses plenty of stranger folk than you about… twelve yards away or so?”
"Sounds good." He waves at the mech, and it walks off. He starts walking to the tavern.
“Wait!” He calls to Harrison.
"What now?" Harrison frowns.
“I have, during my time here, sought out a coalition of dangerous beings. They were restrained in weaker bodies and many of them are currently slumbering, but when they awaken and reunite, they will sate their thirsts upon the entirety of the multiverse. I have sought to prevent them from destroying many worlds for 500 years.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Hello Kosa. My name is John Creighton Harrison. I would love to go to a tavern right now." He tosses his rifle into the cockpit, and grabs a handgun and a small package. He waves off the mech, and it walks away.
Kosa watches in slight confusion. “This way.” He heads into the tavern, greeting the bartender before ordering himself a drink. “Just.. you can put yours on my tab.”
"Thanks, friend." He unwraps the package, and his face grins, what seems to be a rare occurrence for him.
"It didn't melt!"
He removes a few metal boxes of cigarettes, and two bars of chocolate.
11. The weak swordsman clings to his instrument. It is better you have a sword, but death must lie under your fingernails, if need be. Learn death with your elbows, death with your knees, and death with your thumbs and fingertips. It is said death with the tongue is useful, but I find words too soft an instrument to smash a man’s skull.
“Good. I didn’t want to have to use any High Magic. Now will you explain yourself?”
"These ******** are part of a terrorist organization. If this entire planet will be collateral damage, so be it." He motions to the mech, and its hatch closes and it stands up.
“Well, I’m a multiverse-traveling researcher and I’ve never heard of anything of the sort. But maybe I’ve been looking in the wrong places.” Thirteen muses.
"Man places in this wide 'verse." He starts walking towards the tavern, turning his back to the smoldering forest. "Who are you?" The mech follows a dozen meters behind.
“You, and most everyone around me, can call me Thirteen. I am a writer, traveler, scientist, and hunter of unspeakable evils. I also like cats.”
The man shakes their hand. "Call me Harrison. John Creighton Harrison. My mech over there is Agni, and I was wondering where I could get wasted tonight."
“There’s an inn that houses plenty of stranger folk than you about… twelve yards away or so?”
"Sounds good." He waves at the mech, and it walks off. He starts walking to the tavern.
“Wait!” He calls to Harrison.
"What now?" Harrison frowns.
“I have, during my time here, sought out a coalition of dangerous beings. They were restrained in weaker bodies and many of them are currently slumbering, but when they awaken and reunite, they will sate their thirsts upon the entirety of the multiverse. I have sought to prevent them from destroying many worlds for 500 years.”
11. The weak swordsman clings to his instrument. It is better you have a sword, but death must lie under your fingernails, if need be. Learn death with your elbows, death with your knees, and death with your thumbs and fingertips. It is said death with the tongue is useful, but I find words too soft an instrument to smash a man’s skull.
"Thanks, friend." He unwraps the package, and his face grins, what seems to be a rare occurrence for him.
"It didn't melt!"
He removes a few metal boxes of cigarettes, and two bars of chocolate.
Kosa almost half smiles at that. “Chocolate? I can’t say I’ve seen that in a long time.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
— δ cyno • he/him • number one paladin fanδ — making a smoothie for meta ——————| EXTENDED SIG |—————— Φ • happily married to my lovely redpelt, minmaxer, microbiology undergrad, and lover of anything colored red • Φ
“Good. I didn’t want to have to use any High Magic. Now will you explain yourself?”
"These ******** are part of a terrorist organization. If this entire planet will be collateral damage, so be it." He motions to the mech, and its hatch closes and it stands up.
“Well, I’m a multiverse-traveling researcher and I’ve never heard of anything of the sort. But maybe I’ve been looking in the wrong places.” Thirteen muses.
"Man places in this wide 'verse." He starts walking towards the tavern, turning his back to the smoldering forest. "Who are you?" The mech follows a dozen meters behind.
“You, and most everyone around me, can call me Thirteen. I am a writer, traveler, scientist, and hunter of unspeakable evils. I also like cats.”
The man shakes their hand. "Call me Harrison. John Creighton Harrison. My mech over there is Agni, and I was wondering where I could get wasted tonight."
“There’s an inn that houses plenty of stranger folk than you about… twelve yards away or so?”
"Sounds good." He waves at the mech, and it walks off. He starts walking to the tavern.
“Wait!” He calls to Harrison.
"What now?" Harrison frowns.
“I have, during my time here, sought out a coalition of dangerous beings. They were restrained in weaker bodies and many of them are currently slumbering, but when they awaken and reunite, they will sate their thirsts upon the entirety of the multiverse. I have sought to prevent them from destroying many worlds for 500 years.”
"Go on?"
“…just wanted to make you aware of that. And be careful of my cat, if you see her around here anywhere.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
11. The weak swordsman clings to his instrument. It is better you have a sword, but death must lie under your fingernails, if need be. Learn death with your elbows, death with your knees, and death with your thumbs and fingertips. It is said death with the tongue is useful, but I find words too soft an instrument to smash a man’s skull.
11. The weak swordsman clings to his instrument. It is better you have a sword, but death must lie under your fingernails, if need be. Learn death with your elbows, death with your knees, and death with your thumbs and fingertips. It is said death with the tongue is useful, but I find words too soft an instrument to smash a man’s skull.
11. The weak swordsman clings to his instrument. It is better you have a sword, but death must lie under your fingernails, if need be. Learn death with your elbows, death with your knees, and death with your thumbs and fingertips. It is said death with the tongue is useful, but I find words too soft an instrument to smash a man’s skull.
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“You, and most everyone around me, can call me Thirteen. I am a writer, traveler, scientist, and hunter of unspeakable evils. I also like cats.”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
The man shakes their hand. "Call me Harrison. John Creighton Harrison. My mech over there is Agni, and I was wondering where I could get wasted tonight."
Extended Sig (Now updated!)
(He/Him)
11. The weak swordsman clings to his instrument. It is better you have a sword, but death must lie under your fingernails, if need be. Learn death with your elbows, death with your knees, and death with your thumbs and fingertips. It is said death with the tongue is useful, but I find words too soft an instrument to smash a man’s skull.
“So this defenseless man attacked you, a guy in a flaming mech?” He follows, carefully watching around.
— δ cyno • he/him • number one paladin fan δ —
making a smoothie for meta
——————| EXTENDED SIG |——————
Φ • happily married to my lovely redpelt, minmaxer, microbiology undergrad, and lover of anything colored red • Φ
“There’s an inn that houses plenty of stranger folk than you about… twelve yards away or so?”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Attacked? No. I was part of a raid on one of their bases. Deimos appeared in cradle's orbit, and I was part of the forward team. I'm guessing MONIST-1 disappeared Deimos again, and now I'm here." He kicks around a stick with his heavy metal boot. "I need a drink."
Extended Sig (Now updated!)
(He/Him)
11. The weak swordsman clings to his instrument. It is better you have a sword, but death must lie under your fingernails, if need be. Learn death with your elbows, death with your knees, and death with your thumbs and fingertips. It is said death with the tongue is useful, but I find words too soft an instrument to smash a man’s skull.
"Sounds good." He waves at the mech, and it walks off. He starts walking to the tavern.
Extended Sig (Now updated!)
(He/Him)
11. The weak swordsman clings to his instrument. It is better you have a sword, but death must lie under your fingernails, if need be. Learn death with your elbows, death with your knees, and death with your thumbs and fingertips. It is said death with the tongue is useful, but I find words too soft an instrument to smash a man’s skull.
“I have… absolutely no clue as to what you’ve just said. I’ll walk you to the tavern and hopefully we can have a civil conversation? My name is Kosa.” He slings his glaive back over his shoulder.
— δ cyno • he/him • number one paladin fan δ —
making a smoothie for meta
——————| EXTENDED SIG |——————
Φ • happily married to my lovely redpelt, minmaxer, microbiology undergrad, and lover of anything colored red • Φ
“Wait!” He calls to Harrison.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Hello Kosa. My name is John Creighton Harrison. I would love to go to a tavern right now." He tosses his rifle into the cockpit, and grabs a handgun and a small package. He waves off the mech, and it walks away.
Extended Sig (Now updated!)
(He/Him)
11. The weak swordsman clings to his instrument. It is better you have a sword, but death must lie under your fingernails, if need be. Learn death with your elbows, death with your knees, and death with your thumbs and fingertips. It is said death with the tongue is useful, but I find words too soft an instrument to smash a man’s skull.
"What now?" Harrison frowns.
Extended Sig (Now updated!)
(He/Him)
11. The weak swordsman clings to his instrument. It is better you have a sword, but death must lie under your fingernails, if need be. Learn death with your elbows, death with your knees, and death with your thumbs and fingertips. It is said death with the tongue is useful, but I find words too soft an instrument to smash a man’s skull.
Kosa watches in slight confusion. “This way.” He heads into the tavern, greeting the bartender before ordering himself a drink. “Just.. you can put yours on my tab.”
— δ cyno • he/him • number one paladin fan δ —
making a smoothie for meta
——————| EXTENDED SIG |——————
Φ • happily married to my lovely redpelt, minmaxer, microbiology undergrad, and lover of anything colored red • Φ
“I have, during my time here, sought out a coalition of dangerous beings. They were restrained in weaker bodies and many of them are currently slumbering, but when they awaken and reunite, they will sate their thirsts upon the entirety of the multiverse. I have sought to prevent them from destroying many worlds for 500 years.”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Thanks, friend." He unwraps the package, and his face grins, what seems to be a rare occurrence for him.
"It didn't melt!"
He removes a few metal boxes of cigarettes, and two bars of chocolate.
Extended Sig (Now updated!)
(He/Him)
11. The weak swordsman clings to his instrument. It is better you have a sword, but death must lie under your fingernails, if need be. Learn death with your elbows, death with your knees, and death with your thumbs and fingertips. It is said death with the tongue is useful, but I find words too soft an instrument to smash a man’s skull.
"Go on?"
Extended Sig (Now updated!)
(He/Him)
11. The weak swordsman clings to his instrument. It is better you have a sword, but death must lie under your fingernails, if need be. Learn death with your elbows, death with your knees, and death with your thumbs and fingertips. It is said death with the tongue is useful, but I find words too soft an instrument to smash a man’s skull.
Kosa almost half smiles at that. “Chocolate? I can’t say I’ve seen that in a long time.”
— δ cyno • he/him • number one paladin fan δ —
making a smoothie for meta
——————| EXTENDED SIG |——————
Φ • happily married to my lovely redpelt, minmaxer, microbiology undergrad, and lover of anything colored red • Φ
“…just wanted to make you aware of that. And be careful of my cat, if you see her around here anywhere.”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Thanks for the warning. I've taken enough [ :) ] from paracasual beings as of late."
Extended Sig (Now updated!)
(He/Him)
11. The weak swordsman clings to his instrument. It is better you have a sword, but death must lie under your fingernails, if need be. Learn death with your elbows, death with your knees, and death with your thumbs and fingertips. It is said death with the tongue is useful, but I find words too soft an instrument to smash a man’s skull.
Harrison grins. He tosses Kosa a bar, and breaks a very small sliver off of his own bar, and pops it in his mouth. "Mmm..." He then orders a beer.
Extended Sig (Now updated!)
(He/Him)
11. The weak swordsman clings to his instrument. It is better you have a sword, but death must lie under your fingernails, if need be. Learn death with your elbows, death with your knees, and death with your thumbs and fingertips. It is said death with the tongue is useful, but I find words too soft an instrument to smash a man’s skull.
“Yep… well, bye.”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"See ya later. Sorry about the fires." He leave Thirteen alone in the smoldering forest, with the corpses of soldiers strewn around the forest floor.
Extended Sig (Now updated!)
(He/Him)
11. The weak swordsman clings to his instrument. It is better you have a sword, but death must lie under your fingernails, if need be. Learn death with your elbows, death with your knees, and death with your thumbs and fingertips. It is said death with the tongue is useful, but I find words too soft an instrument to smash a man’s skull.