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Zane Richards's picture

Path of Rage: Beginnings

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 ((part one of an introduction to my Sith Assassin, feel free to comment if you like))

Rooms of the Past

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Rooms

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Zane Richards's picture

The Rogue's Road

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((a Little background story for my TOR Smuggler Car'tulak, with an appearance from my Agent Jaakra))

A Shadow Rises

"They have failed us,” one of the cloaked holos rumbled ominously.

“They failed the Emperor,” another corrected, his metallic voice rumbling.

“Not all of them, Lord Decimus” a female holo corrected.  “Many are loyal and proficient soldiers of the Empire.  It is only through lack of strong leadership that they have faltered.”

Reaper's picture

Cry Havoc!

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((transcription of a speech given by Reaper, President of the Invicta Motorcycle Club: Grand Canyon Province, on May 5th))

Brothers and Sisters, we are at war.

Life can be a bitch, sometimes... ((OOC absence notice))

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((I'm using the blog because for some reason it says I'm restricted from the forums, but anyway,:

Due to RL shit and such, I won't be playing for awhile. Maybe a week, two weeks tops. ICly, Ryan will be on an urgent buisness trip in Credit Bend.

I'm so sad and sorry to leave, especially so near to Mardi Gras, but the real world calls. Save a Mardi Gras hat for me! :P))

A New Life

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The woman gently set the children down on Lifenet pods, reaching over to a lever. The two younglings were bawling with fear. "Quiet, Artyom and Angelica, they'll hear us!" The woman shakes her head slowly, tears streaming down her face. "They are not those people anymore... they are Ryan and Kate..." She pulls the lever down, and the children disappear.

 

What happened then in Germany shall forever be shrouded in mystery.

 

Ryan's basic information

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Age: 29


Real name: Artyom Petrovich (No one, including himself, knows this.)


Faction: Tech


Afflictions: Mutated Asthma


Hometown: Munich, Germany


Place of residence: New Flagstaff Science Lab


Relationship status: Single


Family members: Angelica Petrovich (Sister, missing), Catia Strovin (Mother, deceased), Nikolai Petrovich (Father, deceased)


Prefered weapons: Revolver, automatic carbine

Summoned

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Oniessa brought the tray into the study and began pouring the mid-morning tea.


"How is he doing?" she asked.


Kyzafi squinted his eyes and stroked his chin. "Batiati still struggles with the ancient tounges. It is the gateway". He nodded to himself.


A commotion grew towards the entrance as Batiati shouted "A rider from Khemi approaches Master".

Wichita's picture

Memories...

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((Found this screenshot on SAMCRO's website and thought I would honor two really good friends I met, while I was a member of thier club... Natty, this is for you,  also))


I was on cloud nine. I finally met a guy I could really like, Icejay. He is wonderful. Treated me special, not like most jerks I meet. But something still had it's grip on me..... Tara.


After a long, long day of chatting with Ice, getting to know him more and more, evening had settled in. Being considerate, Ice offered to let me crash at his place, instead of the flithy hotel I had moved into ((the one across from Beaus)). He was a gentleman, offering his bed to me, while he went downstairs, and slept on the couch.

Henerkin's picture

The Nuke Reject - Update 5

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Written to some  Wolfmother

Elijas's picture

(( Just to Clarify ))

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 (( Just to clarify something I perhaps did not make super clear


((


Elijas's picture

Rogues and Renegades ( Part 1 )

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(( Just an OOC peak back into Eli's past. Hope you enjoy :) ))


 


As Eli sat in the old Chota graveyard memories began rushing back to him of the memorial tomb in which he buried many of his friends, family, and trusted lieutenants...


 


Hell we brought the World


Until Hell was our home


There's No Heaven for Outlaws


No Purgatory known


 

Henerkin's picture

The Nuke Reject - Update 4 ((for Nat when she clones))

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((This is every night since Natasha is stuck in the cloner))

Written to the following song and Whiskey drunk:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ED5s1-Fe9FA

Henerkin's picture

Harley Warhall's Rant #1 - It's my fault, my fucking fault

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((These are the IC thoughts of Harley Warhall, an Anarchist, Sniper, Loudmouth ranting from time to time on various subject affecting his everyday life. Hes got the attitude of the 80's Hardcore Punk Scene with a touch of 'I fucking told you so!' cause the bombs they were singing about actually happened and blew up society. You can imagine some kind of Henry Rollins ranting here.))

 

 

 

 

 

Draxen's Journal #2

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* Draxen writes in his journal by the campfire outside their tent *

 

Wow what a night!!!!!

I ended up meeting up with the group down in S-1. As usual the party was already in progress by the time I got there. One of these days I am actually gonna get there early...well....one day I can hope haha.

Zane Richards's picture

Gasoline, Gears and Gun Oil -15-

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Lit only by the fire he played with across his hand, Zane sits in his ragged old armchair, a cigarette hanging from his lip as he watched her sleep.  The blanket just covered the top of her firm buttocks, as Soyala lay on her stomach half turned toward the window.  So much had happened over the last week it was difficult to wrap his mind around it all, especially her...he still couldn't believe this all wasn't just a dream.

Zane Richards's picture

Gasoline Gears and Gun Oil -14-

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 Zane wasn't sure what woke him, but it was quite late the building was dark and it was quiet outside.  He felt Soyala's warmth cuddled close against him her head on his chest, a leg up over his own, one arm draped across him, and he smiled.  She was here with him again, and the peace that brought was a warmth he prized above all else.


As he lay there, running one hand down her back over the thin tank top she still wore, his mind drifted over back over the events that let to this moment.



Zane Richards's picture

Gasoline, Gears and Gun Oil -13-

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It was late by the time Zane wandered back to the old building in Flagstaff he was currently calling home.  Slipping in past the shotgun trap on the door, he checked the other tell tale signs that would have meant someone had been here but found no evidence they were disturbed.  He disabled the door wiring to bring his bike inside, then doubled checked all his security steps again.  A quick check of the diesel in the generator showed good, so he headed upstairs.


Zane Richards's picture

Gasoline, Gears and Gun Oil -12-

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((this entry has a bit more explicit and grusome violence than normal, so well you were warned))

After his talk with Death, Zane had desided that he wasn't going to stop.  He had to at least find the means to protect those around him, those clones closest to him. He would pursue the Lifenet information, find the codes and knowledge he needed, he'd started out about it the wrong way.  He couldn't fight them head on, but he could fight them at their game, he'd find a way.

But first he had other business....

Zane Richards's picture

Gasoline, Gears and Gun Oil -11-

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It had cost a few more chips that he’d have liked but, the information was worth it.  The informer who’d set him up with the White Crow was going to reap his reward for that betrayal.  The lock securing the door of the apartment in the old tenement building was not much of an obstacle, now Zane sat in the dark waiting for the little weasel to come home. With nothing better to do his thoughts began to wander as he screwed the silencer on to his P19.

Zane Richards's picture

Gasoline, Gears and Gun Oil -10-

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Wednesday 06:45hrs:   Motel Parking Lot Credit Bend



From the moment Zane had glided into town on his bike, they’d been watching him, if it could be sold, bought or traded for Travelers were aware of it, so there was a pretty good chance at least some of the top Family people knew what he’d been up to, question was where’d they stand.



Bringing his bike to a stop just outside the motel, he sat back stretching a bit, a polite nod to the Traveler guard leaning on the railing above having a smoke, a nod back.  Yea they were watching but they weren’t really concerned, Zane had been around Credit Bend enough that while he might not be quiet family he was a friendly, and a Tech which usually meant he was here to spend chips, something that was always welcome. 



And that was what it meant this morning, but he had a game to play, and so did they. 

Zane Richards's picture

Gasoline, Gears and Gun Oil -9-

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((ok so I make a few assumptions about the facilities at the Clubhouse, figure we have cars, the graphics are there, and the water towers, not much of a stretch to figure we have hot water :P, also yea anyone who stayed at the Clubhouse on the second floor feel free to send me a PM if you "saw" Zane get up in the middle of the night.))


 


Slowly Zane stirred, his back felt stiff, idly he wondered if this was what rigor mortis felt like, of course he wasn't dead.. but was beginning to wonder if that wouldn't be a vast improvement.  Rolling over into a position that wasn't too uncomfortable opened his eyes to look up at the spotted water stained ceiling in the clubhouse.  After talking with Soyala and Nat for a bit Zane had wandered inside and found a bed to crash in, but after having slept most of the day, he couldn't stay asleep now, even with all the alcohol and painkillers in his system.


 

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by Dr. Radut