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Askari's picture

We can rebuild him. We have the technology.

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(( A small IC deal for people who didn't hear. ))

So maybe I did it for the wrong reasons. Sure, part of it was the hair. I wanted hair THAT bad. But another part of it was the self image. Who doesn't want to look good?

I guess I never considered that this would be bad, until Tony and I were in that LifeNet pod. And we found out that there was no deconstruction device. Shotgun shells hurt, especially when you have Tony shooting you.

How the fuck he grazed me with a shotgun shell to the face is beyond me. But that's Tony.

 

Wichita's picture

Wichita's Diary

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((Ok, yet another blog by me. This one though, I thought I would do like others, as sort of a recant of major things happening with Wichita. Postings will be sporadic, yet will play into her characters personality. Also, I'm leaving it as something open. She does not hide this book well, and someone may pick up, read, and subtlely bring my written comments out in in-game RP. Just another twist  thought I would do, to stimulate even more RP amoungst us Anyway, here goes)


<FYI, misspellings are intentional, to slightly show her immaturity>


I spent the night at the clubhouse. Sure felt good to sleep in a place where I felt safe.

Wichita's picture

A Siren's call...

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(ok, first off, I'm not a writer. But seeing the posts made here, and the stories being told, I thought I would take the "task" Henerkin gave me, and come up with a continuing tale. Also, am not the best typer, so forgive me for any spelling/punctuation/grammar errors. Anyway... I hope you enjoy it.)


Hmm, One-Eye wants me to check up on this Jesus dude, over at the garage. Thinks he may be up to something.


As I head over, I think...how can i get info, from a garage? Then I see it. A sign. "Help Wanted".. Ah there's my ticket in.


As I approach the garage, I hear a bunch of whistles and cat-calls. Whatever. I go up to Jesus and  point the sign... "Looking for help?"

Wichita's picture

Why she drinks... (spoiler)

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Warning: if you like things played out, without knowing ahead of time... STOP READING NOW.


OOC: 


Ok there has been grumbling about how all we do is nothing in RP but drink and party, lately. Yes, I'll admit, when I started Wichita, she was to be the spuky little party girl, always getting into trouble. Lately tho, I've gotten the 'bug' like others to where I think..."Is that all she does?"


Moving forward.. I've decided, she drinks to pass out (and not revealed yet, but if not drinks to sleep, pills to stay awake). She suffers from post-tramatic stress. There are two tradgic events that happened in her past life that, even tho most her memory is gone, these come to haunt her in her dreams. She uses the booze or pills to either fall asleep or stay awake to avoid these nightmares.


So.. what are these bad dreams?

Wichita's picture

A strange package...

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Waking up with one terrible hangover, and a nice shiner ((Thank you, Scrapper)), I decide I need to get out of Flagstaff. Need to get my mind off the stupid crap I did last night. I decided to head to Credit Bend. Someone there is gotta have something to take my mind off this. Beside... Pukey? I'm never gonna live that one down.


 


As I pulled into town, I see an old friend. It was my old boss from Depot 66, Janitor. I think I'll say hello.


Heya, old man...


Janitor: Watch it there, lil Ms. Smarty-pants.. *laughing* So, hows my number one snot nosed, freckle faced, pain in the ass pupil doin'?


I look at the ground ashamed.


Janitor: ah.. I see... nice shiner..*chuckles* oh, and what's this... Invicta, eh? Well, you always liked the rough and tough bunch.


I look up, giving him a sheepish smile


Janitor: Anyway.. glad I caught ya.. R'member ole Sneaks?

Miscellanea, mostly OOC

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The last of blogs about Kemena, clearing the way for FE ideas brewing in my head, this is bits and pieces of info so I have it to hand in one place :) .

 

Neverlin and Kemena

A Feast for the Soul

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(Written from the point of view of another of my characters, after Neverlin's botched attempted wedding ceremony with the by now unwilling Kemena.)

 

Ramblings in a Poitainian Spring

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I like Tinabula. Power there, and strength behind the smile and occasional giggliness. Perceptive also.
Why pray here rather than the Temple at Fort Conviction?

Preparing the Feast

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Bright...sparks...light...power...heal...blast.
After a strong-minded barbarian, reading strange texts in the dark. To fulfil what is set before me.
Cold, bleak...the frosting drips from the cloth as my breath warms it just enough...blinding me. Tear off the enfolding troubling veil.
Plunged deep under, can Not breathe! Panic! No, trust!
Cold, so cold. Hot, so warm...so enfolding.
Sparks, light, torch. It cannot be! He can not be here!

Caw! Kraw! Krawr!

Winter musings of the new Lady Kemena Maxtentius, Baroness of Baione

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So much changing. Yet through it all my wonderful Aurelius. Though he is not here as often as either of us would like. Yet that we knew... that he would always have contracts taking him far from Poitain at times. And since he was ennobled by the King for all the services that Invicta have rendered the throne, his responsibilities have grown.

What Neverlin did next.

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Somewhere across Poitain:

Taking his cup of hot tea, Neverlin walked outside into the brisk air. Looking up to the sky he estimated the new moon was about two days away. The necromancer took a long sip from the tiny cup. He thought to himself.... It's almost time for Kemena's check up

 

(posted by Neverlin, 23rd Oct 2008)

Letters, notices and parcels

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The young Mitran priestess smiles as she tacks up a notice on the Keep wall and peruses it one last time for any spelling errors. She places it next to the one asking Invictans to keep looking for any sight or sound of Caradoc.

Wichita's picture

What's your name, little girl??

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(The following is the file Elena Winters discovered to be shredded of Wichita. It is the only record of her past existance, and currently it's whereabouts unknown)


 


Subject 137422108


Name: Jane Doe, formally Kayla Jo Greyfeather


Statis: comatose, clinically brain dead, turned over the Lifenet for organ donation


Parents:Father... C.C. O'Leary, convict, sentenced for murder and drug smuggling, former Hells Angles cycle club memeber. Irish desent. (This would explain Wichita's attraction to Invicta, and the Irish for her reddish hair.) Mother... Maija Greyfeather, former club dancer and prostitute from Vegas. Orginally from Kansas. Native American desent (explains her attraction to things tribalish, and her *uh hum* "unique" way for dancing, when not thrashing to metal tunes.)

Henerkin's picture

One-Eye's Log Book

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((The final format will be different and I need to put up about 10 important days in it befor being up to date with this one, but that gives you an Idea of where its going. Radio transmition added to trucker-like logs of his smuggling runs followed by a paragrah about the events of the day.))

Xothnan's picture

GlobalTech Skunkworks - Test Clone 6901096 - Data Acquisition Initiated

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{Somewhere in the remote desert deep within what appears to be a long abandoned GlobalTech facility, a waiting terminal powers up}

Cold Heart's picture

Subject 27 audio logs.

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((I am writing this as if two techies find this 200 years after present time in Fallen Earth.))
C:/
C:/DataArchives
Radiation Treatments
Corrupted
Corrupted
Corrupted
Corrupted
Corrupted
Subject27
Corrupted
Corrupted
Corrupted
Recon Logs
Weapon experiments

"Wait Miller, check Subject 27."
"Yes sir." Replied the apprentice

C:/DataArchives/Subject27
Data found... Audio Logs would you like to play this media? [y/n] Y
Playing.

The Knight and the Many-Haired Maiden

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Long ago and far away there was a golden-haired princess and a raven-haired princess. And they had many adventures together. And when they adventured together their tales always started thus, “Once upon a time in a land filled with peace…..”

But this is the tale of when the raven-haired princess thought her hair was brown. And of the Knight who rescued her. And of the Wizard who wove the path through the mist for them both back to reality.

War comes to Kemena, Part 2

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The man strides angrily past the many guards of the sweltering compound into a burnt-red chamber of the fortress half as old as time. It is time for her to be given another dose but right now he needs her awake and at least partly able to talk. He lifts the slight body of the young woman in blue, growling into her face as her fugged mind and eyes try to focus on his mohawk.
I have something I need you to do woman.
Blinking and mumbling, the only clear words she gets out are Rel.

War comes to Kemena, Part 1

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Kemena sped to Keshatta.

Reverie on a wedding, a battle and a kidnapping

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Focus.
*Giggles*
I recall how often Hroth says that to Terri. But it is true.... I should focus on these stitches. Here as I wait for my love to awaken. Sitting and trying to sew the neatest of stitches for a gown I shall wear on that day Relius wishes me to be his Queen. But my talents lie with cooking and baking, distilling and the mystical properties of herbs and roots as they both transform taste and cure or protect.

Memories, and today

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Today... silence ... So very rare ...never silence in a mill. But today there was, the sails down for repair.
Except... not quite.

One slow faint creak... then quiet again. Crea-a-ak.

Papa? A quavering voice as she steps in, the tall building so oddly silent.
Quiet, cool in the shadows within.

Crea-a-ak.

Throwing a stone at the mouse, reflexively. Perhaps he is drunk again. But no, he said he was going to work on the sails all day.

Crea-a-ak.

Memories: the first

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Help! Heeeellp! The high-pitched squeal clamoured for attention.
Kem sat wedged above the screaming golden girl, mostly silent as she still tried to think of ways down from the fig tree.

It had all gone so well, this perfect day till now. First time allowed up to the big house with Mamma. Picking roses had been fun in the sun, the rich scent hovering over the bushes and baskets. Now she knew where this smell Mamma often wore about her came from.

The Further and Ongoing Mischief-making of Voltuk, the Semi-Invincible

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((For those not familiar,  Voltuk is the imp for my warlock character, Banagan.  Voltuk has had a couple of little side adventures and I thought some people would like to see the most recent.  I may get around to reposting the old Voltuk stories if there's an interest.))

 

The Job, a wrap-up

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The sky was dark, well past the twilight hour, but in Duskwood that was not unusual.  It usually was dark on the shadowed roads leading to through the territory.  One could always see eyes gleaming from the bushes beside the roads, rustling could be heard as the beasts startled and ran from whatever they saw.

The Job: chapter 2

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A job, a request

 

Braghaman pulled the reins, stopping his charger just short of the great archway that led to Stormwind.  He could see gryphons flying overhead,  bringing people in and taking them away.  He knew it would have been a quicker trip had he flown,  but the time didn't bother him.  A leisurely ride from the Blasted Lands was the sort of thing he needed.

Cornelia's picture

A Long Journey, Part III

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"Welcome home," she thought, her small boat softly sliding along the sand. Many months had passed, many battles fought, and many scars earned, since she last set foot on this island. She had risen from slave to general and fallen to wandering masterless in the wilds of the forsaken west, then sworn duty to a barbarian woman in the time she had been away.

Cornelia's picture

A Long Journey, Part II

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"Vanished! The Lady Kemena has vanished before my eyes! Stygian sorcery, or I'm a Pict, my lord..." The call sounded across the magical network connecting all members of Invicta, but it was meant for the ears of Lord Aureleus. Cornelia had failed in her sworn duty to protect her Lady, and now the only thing left to do was swear vendetta and die in battle destroying the sorcerous dogs who had done this.

Cornelia's picture

A Long Journey

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It was a long journey that had brought her here... From slavery in the distant land of Lemuria, escaping to join the Chosen's expedition into the barbarian West, she would rise through the ranks of his army to become commander of the Hand of Lemuria, a bloody-handed conqueror carving a slice of this forgotten land for her Lemurian fellows.

Kariokimahn's picture

1 percenter

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((From the Urban Dictionary:A 1 percenter is a fully incdoctrinated motorcycle member. The outlaws of the motorcycle clubs/gangs. 99% of clubs are law-abiding and the other 1% aren't. These fellas do things like sew hooks in their leathers so that when cops search them they get a handful of hooks.))

 

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