Locale: Anonymous (CVnU thread)

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The_Shogun

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@cosmosis: Well deserved praise :-)

@satar: No joke lol. I still miss Frenemy's writing a lot.

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deactivated-6032280486b7d

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@the_shogun: Right? Plus she brought a lighthearted element that was well... rare among all of us, LOL.

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The_Shogun

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@satar: Right? We're all destroyed home planet and dead parents and she was, well, not. Lighthearted is the perfect way to put it.

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Petiri_Mapoza

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@petiri_mapoza:

Dog was starting to enjoy this. After weeks of whipping trainees into shape, it felt good to match claws with an opponent that seemed able to match him toe-to-toe. Well, perhaps saying it felt good wasn't the best expression; being flung into the windshield of the land rover was not particularly comfortable, particularly all the glass shards that wound up embedded in his back. Nonetheless, his maniac grin never faltered.

"Ya know, pal," he snarled, as he violently pulled himself from the vehicle, "if yer gonna interrupt my training, yer gonna get a workout of yer own." With a brutal display of strength, he tore the top portion of the rover free of its frame and swung it viciously at Petiri, as though he was in a batting cage.

A frown burrowed deeper on the brow of Petiri as the maneuver worked almost flawlessly. Not a frown of anger, but of focus. That move right there would be enough to almost completely incapacitate any normal man. Who was he? This Dog, this worker of the Shogunate, he was abnormal to say the least. Now, the foe moved back up- literally tearing off the top of the vehicle and hurling it at him with impressive speed and strength. If the African man had a little more time to recover from his maneuver, the chunk of metal would've been easy to dodge.

Alas, Petiri was out of breath from sending the Dog flying, and could only barely sidestep the door- feeling a chunk of it hit his side on the way as hot pain searing through his side. Two, maybe three broken ribs... Even with his vibranium under armor, the swing was clearly enough to do some serious damage, as Petiri collapsed to one knee. However, falling to one knee was only partially from pain- his quick-time intellect deciding that a feigning attack was also in order. The Dog had a healing factor, that was obvious from all the damage he'd taken- so, Petiri would focus on the senses. Pushing himself off of the ground and flying towards Dog again, the Jungle Cat swiped a narrow hand towards the eyes of the mutant, before whipping around to deal a roundhouse kick so that he might knock down his opponent. At best it would blind him, if even temporarily.

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Alpha_Dog

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@petiri_mapoza: [Good move! I will try to respond tonight, or definitely tomorrow if I pass out, lol.]

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Zeke_

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"Gothic attacked again, why do they even care? It's not like that good-for-nothing city is worth the trouble, it's just a city clogged with crime and vigilantes." A hand swiftly moved to the other page of the newspaper. "Hmm? Unknown assassin kills yet another victim, eh? Fourth this month, all of them seemingly stabbed and sliced apart. Wonder what the police is doing about it..." The collection of pages is then folded and shoved into a chocolate bag of sorts, the figure carrying it is no other than Ezekiel Janus, clad in his usual formal clothing and quiescently wading through the university's long corridors.

A whole week. He was gone for a whole week and that was enough for his friends tell him he had changed, gotten more distant. He only visited his parents, a sickness was no business to be overlooked. Yet the always smiling Zeke was entirely different, from his somewhat messy hairstyle to the faint expression plastered across his visage, one that could not be read since it interpreted no sentiment at all, merely a nonchalant stare and motionless mouth. Seldom did he notice the lack of people interacting with him, albeit it never veraciously harmed him to acknowledge he was distancing himself. People were too emotional, too caring, too superfluous... He thrived to conquer all those futilities and overcome them, the price was nothing quintessential, after all, he could see the world with his superior eyes.

No Caption Provided

Even mid-class his focus infrequently shifted from his own seat, indubitably something was different as he just scrutinized his hand the whole period, checking if there were no curious gazes surrounding him so his endeavors to comprehend his newly gained powers. First he transformed the center of his palm into a flawless copy of a human mouth, teeth and even darker lips, then he progressed onto stretching his thumb upward prior to tilting it backward a bit, crafting an eye ostensibly avid for something, as it stared in awe at the girl aside him or even at the board. His next attempt, though, proved to be the most difficult, increasing the strength and endurance of the muscles from his hand while he leisurely transformed every one of his fingers into metallic blades, his hand went from an average strength to being able to lacerate its way through concrete without any kickbacks.

Ezekiel leaves school portraying the very same stare, not jaded nor vivid, his thoughts concise and emotionless, he could swimmingly hearken the four rhythmical footsteps behind him, as if he was being pursued by something or someone, he just didn't care enough to look above his shoulder unless it really concerned him... Two footsteps halted rather unnaturally, the temptation a human would have would be too strong and it would probably turn around speedily, but not Zeke. It didn't mattered, human's nature was as it was, those muffled grunts and perverted words murmured were human's nature, even as they vanished when the duo entered an alley. Zeke's camouflage could be endangered if he were to behave emotionally... But even worse, it would be badly harmed if the girl, now yelling for his name, was to be raped.

She used to have a crush on Janus a few months back, but now he was just too cold, almost as if ignoring her. Zeke knew she stalked him every now and then, it never bothered him as he never did anything out of normal. It seemed, though, that Ezekiel was one of the heroic kind. His head tilted a bit, unimpressed as the thug revealed his revolver and fired, a few inches from hitting Zeke's foot. That was a mistake, even if he was sigilous about his true nature, his survival was the only thing he'd achieve no matter what. Those dead eyes rapidly became serious, as if a beast awoke inside that slender teenager. The armed thug tried to pull the girl back to the alley, his pants being a grievance since he unbuttoned them, each step got slower and slower, a supercilious smirk showed up on his face. "If you come any closer, I'll pop a cap between your eyes, pretty boy. Thinking you're so goddamn special, you better not come here or all you're going to see before your death is me bangin' your girlfriend here."

Ezekiel didn't even hear, stepping forth in a casual manner as the man kept shooting. A step to the left, a step to the right, bullets were too slow. Bullets could not harm him now, he was aware of them thus nullifying any chance that man had of killing him. One-handedly raising the bastard above the ground and slamming his fist consecutively against his face, an evanescent grin could be spotted on the boy's countenance. A little excitement, not enough to be perceived by the scatterbrained ones... Luckily that girl was just crouched in a corner, she wouldn't see anything. The beads sprinkling from the cluster of hematomas and swollen bruises bewitchingly, Zeke sighed, dropping the beaten person and simply turning his back to continue his way home.

The girl embraced him by his arm, still trembling due to the recent confrontation. A thankful expression all over her visage. She would open her mouth, but Janus did it first. "What a bother... Pay more attention next time." Getting rid of her grasp and shoving his hand back into his pocket, that sadistic beast returned to its human cloth.

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Alpha_Dog

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@petiri_mapoza:

So this guy can take a beating, too...

Dog was definitely impressed; even a glancing blow like that would have reduced most people to a burlap sack full of broken champagne flutes. He didn't have much time to contemplate this, however, as his foe quickly rebounded and changed up his strategy, looking to make more surgical strikes rather than going toe-to-toe. Dog was no klutz, himself, but his own reaction time only spared one of his eyes. A brief roar of pain escaped his lips as one half of his world went dark.

"Yer good," he growled, teeth gritted against the pain, as blood and occipital fluid ran down one side of his face. "Narrowin' my field o' vision, throwin' off my depth perception...any other chump'd be fightin' ya blind, right now." Bravado aside, he would have to be cautious; though the injury would heal, as they all did, regrowing a complex organ like an eye would take several hours, and he wasn't in the habit of asking for time-outs. His opponent now had a distinct advantage in precision, but Dog reckoned that he still had an edge in raw power.

He took the roundhouse, letting it knock him to the ground next to the wrecked land rover. He rolled as he hit the ground, however, coming back to his feet near the vehicle's rear. "Think fast, Pumaman!" With a grunt of effort, he dug his claws into the five-ton rover and flipped it end-over-end at Petiri.

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Petiri_Mapoza

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@alpha_dog:

The attacks worked flawlessly, as one eye was swiftly disabled as well as the Dog being sent flying back. However, such an advanced maneuver did send a wave of pain up Petiri's side- the earlier wound was taking it's toll for the long run. Wincing inwardly, he stepped back a bit, getting into another combat ready pose and panting ever so slightly. His opponent liked to talk. That much was obvious. And, he pointed out the obvious- how removal of the eyes would be an almost fatal blow to most other men. Eyes narrowing, Mapoza nodded, certain that his attacks would make their mark much faster than they had before.

However, before the Jungle Cat could follow up with his attacks, his foe did something... incredible. The vehicle that the Dog had piloted earlier- without a care in the world- sent it flying towards him, the huge car casting a much larger shadow over Petiri himself. Eyes now widening, he knew he had less than seconds to react before being utterly crushed- and, with swiftness that could ridicule a sports car, sped out of the way. As Petiri felt a grin spread across his face with the assurance that he had successfully dodged the attack, he almost immediately bit his tongue as hot pains shot through his arm. What a fool he had been, still in his Crouching Tiger position! Glancing at the now-shattered hand that lay underneath the land rover, he winced in even greater pain, biting his tongue before literally screaming.

Weakly, he pulled out the hand from underneath the car- using a good deal of strength to do so, and stared at it blankly. Almost no muscle in it moved, and the panther fur that covered Petiri was drenched with blood that slowly dripped down the adamantine claws. One of four limbs downed, a major impact in such a fight. An eye for an arm, except it'd take the Dog much shorter of an amount of time to heal his eye than it would the Cat to heal his hand- if he ever did. But now was not the time for licking his wounds. Standing up defiantly, Mapoza switched his tactics on the go- now leaning towards the use of Capoeira as opposed to N'golo.

Running towards his foe, Petiri swiftly made a feign with his one good hand for his opponent's already wounded eye- the most obvious move, to an average fighter. However, instead of actually connecting the blow, he stopped inches from the Dog's face, and whipped around- going to send a bone-shattering kick to the ribs of the Dog, to return the favor from earlier. Broken bone, for broken bone. An incapacitation would have to come quickly, or else Petiri would have to forfeit the fight- if, his foe would let him.

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The_Shogun

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[ I'm really enjoying the fight. ]

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Alpha_Dog

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@petiri_mapoza:

Dog was in some intense pain. His healing factor had stopped the flow of blood from his facial wound, but his disabled eye still sent nerves screaming across his entire head, all the way back to his occipital lobe. He was also having the time of his life. Not since he fought Razor in the taking of Venezuela had a foe been able to match him blow for blow so perfectly.

His foe wasn't done, either. Despite an obviously broken hand and the fact that accumulated injuries were taking an obvious toll on him, he made no move to flee or surrender. Yeah, Dog definitely liked this guy. Now, despite the fact that he was clearly having to fight through a shrieking nervous system of his own, he stayed on the offensive, charging Dog and launching a blow at what was now his blind side. Experience told him it was probably a feint, but rather than attempt to defend, Dog instead snapped an arm upwards, in an attempt to connect it with the wrist of the incoming fist. For most it would have done little but knocked an attacker's strike aside, but with elephantine strength and increased bone density behind the blow, he was hoping for a bit more.

Regardless of his counter's success or the lack thereof, however, Dog found himself with new appreciation for his inhumanly dense bones as his cagey opponent connect a vicious kick to his ribs, with his own ample strength behind it. A grunt escaped Dogs lips as he staggered backwards several steps; a normal man would have had every bone in his torso shattered by that blow, and even his own durable ribs fractured beneath it, puncturing one of his lungs, and making it a challenge to recover his breath.

This was turning into a battle of attrition, which suited the feral mutant just fine; as long as he had one working part on his body, he'd keep fighting. However, something unusual clicked in the back of his head as he considered his next move, something he'd never done in any battle in the past. It wasn't his usual style, but then again, his latest situation was hardly his usual job. Besides, he was pretty sure what he did next would be the last thing his enemy would expect.

"Not bad, pal," he said with a twisted grin, his single functioning lung working a little harder to get the words across. "Ya wanna consider this a job interview?"

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Petiri_Mapoza

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#5811  Edited By Petiri_Mapoza

Dog's counter worked flawlessly, and to much surprise from Petiri as his feint was swatted away. However, the end result did make it's mark, as the main kick found it's mark- the sickening crunch of bone under his foot being heard by Mapoza's advanced hearing. That punctured a lung. Good. The more vital organs he took out the better. A grunt passed the Dog's lips, and deep down Petiri felt something. Was it... satisfaction? Joy, from faring so well against an opponent so strong? Perhaps.

Now, the Jungle Cat was going to do his very best to finish this fight- his foe had obviously taken a brief moment to stop, giving the African a great opportunity to score a hit that just might be the last if timed well enough. Perhaps a straight claw strike to the still good eye, or taking out the other lung... No. If he wanted a good blow, it would have to be in the eye, as that seemed to have done more damage to the Dog than the lung simply had. With a growl of fury, he charged his foe, bringing up one hand to make a swift but sure downward swipe that he would put everything into-

But, at the last second, his enemy said something that made Petiri stop dead in his tracks, hand still raised overhead. "What?" His words were filled with the same defiance that they held at the start of the battle, but now with an air of confusion about them- complete, genuine confusion. Lowering his hand, he stood tense. Such tactics, like words, would often be used to gain the upper hand back home in Africa. Here, he doubted it was much different. The Cat scowled under his mask as he spoke. "What do you mean by job interview?"

@alpha_dog

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Alpha_Dog

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@the_shogun: ^_^

@petiri_mapoza: "Heh. That some kinda complicated concept in...wherever yer from?" Dog stretched his thick torso as he spoke, his ribs making a sickening popping sound as his healing factor forced them back into place. He didn't bother with any kind of guard to his stance; this fellow seemed like the kind whose personal code wouldn't allow him to attack a non-aggressive opponent, and if he was wrong, well, he'd at least buy himself a few moments to heal; that should at least let him absorb whatever attack might be coming without losing too much ground.

"Ya fight pretty good, whoever ya are," he continued, his voice growing stronger as his injured lung, now free of his broken ribs, began to mend. "Yer quick, yer strong, and ya ain't afraid to take some pain, long as it puts ya in a favorable position." He folded his arms across his chest, making it obvious that he wasn't setting up for an attack. "Now the way I see it, right now this can end one o' two ways. I kill ya, in which case yer maggot food, or ya kill me, in which case ya get to go back to wanderin' around the blasted jungle, now minus a few pints o' blood and some solid bones. Doesn't make ya sound like much of a winner, either way."

"There's a third choice, though," he continued. "Ya come back to Caracas wit' me, and help teach some o' my runts how to fight like they mean it. There'd be some pay in it fer ya, and ya get to ensure that some young mutant wannabe heroes don't get shredded in their first scrap. Noble enough fer ya?"

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Joey_Destroyer_of_Worlds

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Wooooooooohoo, getting a job from a PC!

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Petiri_Mapoza

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@alpha_dog:

Petiri felt his blood boil as the foe seemed to almost mock him, wondering whether a job interview was complicated where he was from. However, as the Dog continued to speak, the offer sounded more and more tempting, and he soon found himself loosening up and out of his combat-ready stance. Skilled as he may be, Petiri did not have any source of actual monetary gain- and, technically, if he didn't include a very small shack in Africa, he was homeless. Food wasn't as big of a problem, but here in the Americas- a land of opportunity that he had been desperately seeking- there was so much more than simply hunting out in the wild.

Time to look over his choices. Fight and die, which he wouldn't do. Fight and kill- which he doubted was possible, considering the Dog just fixed one of his broken ribs quite visibly (and loudly), or go and work as a part of this training facility. It'd be money, and it'd be saving the lives of several mutants that would perhaps die otherwise... At last he made his decision, after many long moments of silence.

"I shall come with you to Caracas." Nodding his head ever so slightly, Petiri's tone stayed with the same deep, almost belligerent tone, albeit it was only slightly unintentional. This man did give him one hell of a fight, after all. As a sign of mild friendliness, the Cat held out his hand, before realizing he had offered the completely broken one to be shook. A bittersweet smile crossing his lips, he switched hands, pain still surging through the arm as he watched the Dog carefully. "But, I must ask, does this have anything to do with the... What did you call it, earlier? Shogunate?" Referencing the unfamiliar organization that Dog had questioned him on earlier, Petiri raised an eyebrow- curious as to what exactly he had meant.

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Alpha_Dog

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@petiri_mapoza:

A bemused smile crossed Dog's face as he watched his recent opponent offer him a wounded hand before switching. "Ya got it in one," he responded to the inquiry, as he shook the uninjured one. "A country fer mutants to call their own, and yers truly gets to put together the first line o' defense."

Turning, he began to head into the jungle. With his vehicle destroyed, it was going to be a long walk back to civilization. "The rabbit ya stopped me from chasin' was one o' the prospects, so ya can see that they need some work. We'll get ya patched up, so ya help me put 'em through their paces."

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Petiri_Mapoza

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@alpha_dog:

The cat nodded his head with a newly found vigor. This mean a world of opportunities to him... And, with luck, minimal physical action that would've needed to be taken. As well, the idea of taking on and training a new wave of mutants to make sure they'd live to see the future... 'The first line o' defense' as Dog had put it.

"Good. I shall aid you and this organization of yours... But first, we might want to track down this little rabbit that you were chasing." A slight smile making an indent against his midnight black mask, he turned towards the woods where the mutant from earlier had departed. Petiri was badly wounded- however, the thrill of a hunt never ceased to push him forward.

(We can stop here?)

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Inner_Demon

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#5817  Edited By Inner_Demon
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Maverick_6

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Quito, Ecuador

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@the_shogun:

Long has Maverick had to deal with the troubling affair of nations growing increasingly rogue. Of private parties running rampant and driving the world into something of utter chaos. People used power and influence to do as they pleased.

(Idle. private conversation)

"You know, I remember when something like this would result in the whole goddamn world dropping on you." Bradshaw begins, sitting in the craft there CEO, who smoked a cigar quietly as he listened to his employees, seeing them as not just tools or extensions of himself, but simply, people. The craft was a closed forum.

"She attacked us, one of our own you know. That alone is reason to go to war. It'd even be profitable, considering the vibranium and all that advanced tech they might have. It'd be fun." Jackal muses.

Finally, Bold replies. Smoke trailing from his lips as he speaks. "The last thing we need is another war. Not right now. And not with something, like what they might be. We're not going to move in on them. Not now. We might not need to. Let's put the guns and swords away, for now."

Bradshaw was the first to walk out, his eyes scanning the area. Soldiers already on the scene. His vision was sharp, and it was his own. However, the reasoning for the Maverick Mutant Hunter walking out of the VTOL dropship and onto the helipad before someone like Jackal being his honed abilities of analysis. To be able to pick up on subtle ques. Details that soldiers and even shadow company might miss. Subtle mannerisms. It wasn't something Maverick yet knew how to program or how one actually achieves this. Not even he knew. He simply had it, and that aspect of his mind, served his survival throughout the years better than the "god-killing" weapons Maverick gave him.

"Area is all clear." -Bradshaw
"Pretty beautiful city..." -Jackal

Jackal stepped out, a few moments later, his face mostly concealed beneath a hood. His all carbon resonance blade within it's sheath and him idly twirling a knife for a moment, before he puts it within a sheath behind himself. He too looked around the area of the helipad himself. Closing his eyes, as he listened. Feeling the air, searching for distinct changes in pressure. Indeed he picked up on them, but they were from friendly parties.

Finally, the CEO of Maverick himself stepped off the vehicle, his large frame of 6 ft 4, seemingly 260 pounds (And near none of it fat) towering over both his guards as he strode forth casually and with a cool air. A lack of concern, his hands at his side, his eyes surveying the area not to search for anything, but only to take in the beauty of the city.

With that, he went forth into the building flanked by his two dragons. Some of the deadliest of what the corporation had to offer. A man and something that was once a man. Bold's air cool, Bradshaw's cautious and Jackal's air leisurely, upbeat yet primed.

It was time for the Shogunate to meet with Maverick. Does the world need another war? Bold didn't think so. Particularly not with a country such as Venezuala. It could be potentially devastating to both parties. If they become willing, Maverick would oblige, but the objective now is to become something of a peacekeeping entity. Nothing documented. Face to face. Without running headlong into one another.

The agreement was for the meeting to be on neutral territory, and Ecuador was as good a place as any. Maverick's presence was not particularly heavy here and it neighbored Venezuala, making it not difficult to travel to at all for either party. The place they'd arrange to meet was even one of her own choosing. Somewhere private where they could all arrive fully armed and seemingly equal terms.

Wherever Ivana so choose, Maverick would be waiting. Their CEO idle, and completely unarmed.

"Hello Ms. Strigidae." The Modern Monarch of War begins, his brows only subtly furrowed.

"We've much to discuss."

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The_Shogun

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@maverick_6:

The meeting had been scheduled at a large hotel which generally catered to foreign dignitaries, celebrities and the one percent. Wooden floors, rich rugs in vibrant reds, golds and greens, and wood panel walls adorned with colorful landscape paintings gave it an intimate, but luxurious atmosphere.

Ivana stood alone in the elevator, whistling tonelessly. Her black vibranium helm was tucked under her left arm and her red cape hung limply in the muggy heat. All of her guards had been left at the private airfield upon which she had arrived in the country.

The elevator pinged and the doors opened. Black armored boots clunked on the wooden floors and the rich scent of treated wood filled her senses.

She pushed open the conference room door. It was long and rectangular with a long conference table occupying the center of the room. The acoustics made each whisper audible and the spoken word easy to hear from each side of the long wooden table. A glass of water had been placed on one end and the Maverick's were at the other.

Ivana set, tossing her helm upon the table and pushing the sweating glass of water aside. It left a damp ring on the wood which she ignored as she leaned back in the chair and plopped her boots onto the tabletop.

She looked across the table at Bold, beams of sunlight lighting half her ritually tattooed, partly shaven head and casting the other side in shadowed darkness.

"Maybe we do. Maybe we don't." And she did not return the greeting, falling silent and watching him with alert, sharp blue eyes as the silence stretched on.

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Thunderwave

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Mexico City - Mexico:

"...I swear, man, that goddamn burrito was twice the size of an average one, and that goddamn waitress was starin' all innocently at me, like she knew that f***in' stomachache that burrito'd cause." Now this was an odd sight, Kesler Tempest, aka Thunderwave, having a good time at Los Pendejos as if he actually were an average person partaking a company's party of sorts. The bar was an infamous place for mercenaries worldwide, since Mexican contracts allegedly paid as well as any others, there should be a location to be undercover whilst visiting and preparing for a task.

Los Pendejos thoroughly executed that role, an underground location controlled by the covert organizations acting throughout America and leisurely expanding toward Europe. "No sh*t, Kes! That restaurant surely exaggerates a bit, but the guacamole they serve... Hmm..." The man aside him wasn't very muscular, yet he compensated in stature. The amicable tone indicated they had met at some point and became friends, yet that was all there was to it. No work-related subject or anything of the like, perhaps a friendly chat officialized by a few shot of tequilla. "Don't even tell me about it, spent one hour of my life to flush it all down. The cleanin' lady almost ripped the room's door apart askin' if I needed anythin'."

William Spruce, aka Vanilla, a Cryokinetic mercenary, divorced and father of a seven years old, slim, tall, raven hair nonchalantly combed down, clear caramel eyes. Thunderwave and him went back a few years, they nullified a few targets here and there, usually met around New York until his wife moved with his daughter. "But, hey, enough talkin' about me and my toilet adventures, Will. How's your family?" Simpering, the gun-for-hire sipped from his glass.

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"They're fine! My ex-wife worries too much about me, so she's letting me visit Aurora quite often! She still doesn't know why mommy and daddy took separate ways, hell, she can't even hear about my job!" Beaming back toward the electric merc, the much more experient soldier of fortune recapitulated. "For someone so cold like me, seeing her smile really brightens my day, you know? We even agreed that she'll only be told what I do when she has enough age. Kind of never want it to happen." Truthfully, assassinating people wasn't a task for warm-hearted or even scatterbrained fools, it required calculist precision and either a tremendous bloodthirst or humongous indifference. Leaning a bit forth, Kesler chuckled prior to replying, his vivid eyes always fathoming the surroundings, foot always tapping the ground rhythmically. "Once they learn how to walk and stop usin' diapers the changes never halt. Next thing you know, you'll be worried 'cause she hasn't came back from the nightclub." Gently tapping his friend's shoulder in a good-natured chortle, Thunderwave resumed. "But it's good to hear everythin''s goin' fine. Maybe you'll even get your wife back, Will, be able to step out once you think it's all over. Settle down nicely, raise your kids, maybe I'll be called 'uncle Kes' some day..." Pretending to admire the idea for a jiffy, Tempest jocosely bumped his elbow against William's shoulder. "Hah, you wish! My wife's pretty pissed at how I lied. Sure, it ain't easy to explain you get paid to kill, but she's right to get mad. It's not like the police or military that protect people, it's downright murder and I was covering it up." Moistening his throat in another gulp, Spruce paused. "If it happens, though, I'll make sure to invite you home! Aurora won't be expecting anything expensive, so shock her, 'uncle Kes'." The teasing tone was crystal-clear, but after a few seconds of taciturn reflections, William tilted his head in a more serious manner.

"What about you? Anyone special in your life so far?" Kesler fired him a rather nonchalant stare, lips edging into a supercilious smirk. "What do you think? I'm not one to fall in love, always on the hunt and whatnot. Haven't met one woman capable of holdin' my attention for more than a good night." Grinning contently, Vanilla arose from his seat, passing his hands through his obsidian suit. "Couldn't expect any less from our hyperactive boy! You should finish your business here and check out on the Guild. We could really use someone with your potential, Kes. Payrolls are good, respect is mutual and most hunters are extremely professional. I know you don't like working for people, but I can spread the word of your past contracts and set up a decent image, you'll be going for the big leagues really fast. That place gets kinda boring without any new faces, only those goddamn old veterans." Waving his goodbyes previous to scratching his nape, William completed. "Mercs that aren't with us are considered against us, Kes. You know I wouldn't harm you, but not everyone thinks the same. So whatever you do, do it wisely... Well, then, see ya around, 'uncle'!"

A soft-hearted guffaw rebounded within his head as he sunk into thoughts. Was that a warning? Could the Guild be sending people after other mercenaries instead of focusing on their own contracts? So many questions, so little time.

(Maybe a hint to a future idea. Maybe.)

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Ali_Sani_Bashir

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@maverick_6:

The meeting had been scheduled at a large hotel which generally catered to foreign dignitaries, celebrities and the one percent. Wooden floors, rich rugs in vibrant reds, golds and greens, and wood panel walls adorned with colorful landscape paintings gave it an intimate, but luxurious atmosphere.

Ivana stood alone in the elevator, whistling tonelessly. Her black vibranium helm was tucked under her left arm and her red cape hung limply in the muggy heat. All of her guards had been left at the private airfield upon which she had arrived in the country.

The elevator pinged and the doors opened. Black armored boots clunked on the wooden floors and the rich scent of treated wood filled her senses.

She pushed open the conference room door. It was long and rectangular with a long conference table occupying the center of the room. The acoustics made each whisper audible and the spoken word easy to hear from each side of the long wooden table. A glass of water had been placed on one end and the Maverick's were at the other.

Ivana set, tossing her helm upon the table and pushing the sweating glass of water aside. It left a damp ring on the wood which she ignored as she leaned back in the chair and plopped her boots onto the tabletop.

She looked across the table at Bold, beams of sunlight lighting half her ritually tattooed, partly shaven head and casting the other side in shadowed darkness.

"Maybe we do. Maybe we don't." And she did not return the greeting, falling silent and watching him with alert, sharp blue eyes as the silence stretched on.

Ivana meeting with Mav....didnt see that coming. This is badass

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Maverick_6

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@the_shogun:

Bold sat, patiently awaiting Ivana's approach as he smoked a cigar. Bradshaw stood upright, arms crossed, his typical stoic expression as he stood idly. Jackal leaned up against a wall, a newer hood around his body. His eyes peak in interest as he is informed by his shadow company that Ivana has left seemingly all of her guards at the airfield.

"Leave." He said simply. There was a brief pause as Bold sat, looking forward. His mind made up, and the two dragons exchanging a brief nod as they exited. Jackal flipped his hood forward and looked down as the molecular structure of his shrowd altered itself to bend electromagnetic waves around itself as he simply dissappeared not drawing attention to himself as he quietly left the room. Bradshaw simply walked out the room shutting the door behind himself.

As the Maverick mutant hunter casually walked through the hallway, his eyes having the same typical "thousand-yard-stare" expression he often had when he walked. Eyes forward focused on nothing as he approached an elevator door. His focused only shifting when she stood inside already. For a brief moment, the Maverick mutant hunter stood face to face with The Shogun of Venezuala. Predictably, he said nothing as he glanced at her briefly. His eyes not turning away sharply to indicate even the slightest insecurity or attempt to hide the fact that he indeed, was looking at her. Then he walks in the elevator, pressing a button and looking forward as the door closes in front of him. His view of the shogun cut off by the Elevator's closing door.

As Ivana arrived, Bold sat calmly alone, the subtle smell of his previously lit cigar in the room as he sat. Any telepathes she may or may not have had, may inform Ivana that Jackal is on the roof and there is no psionic presence within the room. Indicating that they were indeed alone, Bold expression conversely something of a genuine amusement towards her response and her mannerisms. He is far more relaxed, and often is, even in such a state as he in after his mostly unknown personal involvement in conflict with Mr. Hastings, he still retained a rather genuinely cool air in the face of people who posed a very physical threat towards him.

"Well! Let's just see." He says, as he tilts his head a bit, a glint of light reflecting from his rectangular glasses.

"I've held a blind eye to your "private incursions" for quite a while, leaving it to other parties, but circumstances change a bit when you start waging full scale war on U.S Soil to come after one of my employees. Orpheus made his motives clear, too a quite a bit of the blame for his flamboyant move and he burned for it. You however, Ms Strigidae, had different motives in mind from I'm told and well, you could say I prefer to hear both sides of the story. You care to explain why you attacked Shawn Savage and by extension, attacked me?"

Bold reclined back expectantly, waiting to see if she was inclined to answer. Silently gathering things about her, whether or not she spoke or just got up and walked out of the room to end there conversation then and there.

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Thunderwave

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Yeah, scratch the Guild idea. Scratch writing today and tomorrow too lol Too busy.

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The_Shogun

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#5824  Edited By The_Shogun

@maverick_6:

Ivana stared across the table at Bold. Externally she appeared to be pondering the question, allowing her silence to stretch on and on. Internally she was simply watching Bold. Watching the way he moved. The way he looked at things. And she listened to him. The way he spoke. What words he used and what order he placed them in.

There was no brilliant psychological analysis. No profile. No psychic link streaming to a team of mutant masterminds. Instead she just absorbed. She memorized her impression of him. The way someone felt was more real to her than a stack of intelligence reports.

When Clarice became President Ivana didn't study her or pay someone to read her mind. She met the President at a small diner in DC and they ate dinner.

Eventually she replied.

"No. I do not care to explain." Her Russian accent colored her words. "For two reasons."

"For one I do not like to explain myself. It is a stupid thing to do. If you are always explaining yourself then people learn your thoughts and why and how they come about. And when they know this, they know how you will think in the future. And then you are in big trouble."

Truth be told Ivana didn't particularly care if people knew how she thought or not. A part of her thought that having an opponent who completely understood her would be to her advantage. You can't understand something without becoming it.

"And for two because I am a head of state. Putin does not explain himself to.. say-" She waved an armored hand in his general direction. "-Bill Gates. Why would he? And why would I?"

"No. To explain, to come before others and justify my actions, that is not in my interest. And it is not in the interests of my country. It is beneath our dignity."

"It is what I did. The reasons, ehhh, those are not for you to know. That is all there is to it."

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arquitenens

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:-O

We've got beef!

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ThisIsGonnaHurt

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@the_shogun: @maverick_6:

Uh-oh :o

I wonder if you'd mind Ghoul melting into the shadows of the room and lurking :P

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Maverick_6

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@the_shogun:

"Well, Ms Strigiadae..."

Bold says, taking off his glasses as he sighs slightly his face relaxing.

"I wasn't really under the impression we were all playing under the "regular" rules and formalities most of these kinds of meetings have."

His grin grows once more as he continues.

"I do like this analogy, however of yours. I hope you don't mind if I expand on it? You are Putin." He says pointing towards Ivana. "And I am Bill Gates." He says motioning to himself as he sits more upright now and leans slightly forward, his hands and elbows resting on the table, his hands together with interlocked fingers. His grin fades, and words leave his mouth at a rapid pace as he looks at Ivana dead in his eyes in the middle of his speech.

"Vladmir Putin decides one day that he does not like Bill Gate's employee and decides to take steps against him. Instead of hiring untraceable assassins or something like that, he sends a bunch of kids who instantly tattle tale the moment said employee beats the crap out of them. After this, Putin goes into his basement, grabs an AN-94 and says "Я собираюсь убить этого ублюдка."

He says, speaking in relatively fluent but rather rusty "Americanized" Russian, before he continues with his "hypothetical" tale.

"And then, Putin charges up to the home of Bill's employee, with the help of Bill's Gate's security force and starts having a small but loud fire fight. Kind of disruptive. And then, out of nowhere, Xi Jinping, president of China, arrives with 1/10 of his country's armed forces, and suddenly, this small scuffle becomes a full blown war on United States soil near a populated area where everyone can see them. Putin gets shot, and gets hauled off for medical attention, while Bill Gates and Xi fight it out for a little bit. Then stop. Where is the American President you ask?"

He says, pausing for a moment and looking to a ceiling, tilting his head to and fro as he continues to fabricate more of this story.

"Well, he's sitting in the white in a Jacuzzi, stoned off his ass. At the moment, well, the president does not really give a flying f*ck about his country or politics in general. Leaving poor little Gates to fix this problem himself. Now, Gates and Putin decide to meet up in a small room, by themselves, a few guards outside, just to have a talk. And then Putin shows up in full tactical body armor and then slings up his feet on the table while they talk."

Bold's leans back now, reclined in his seat. As he takes a cigar, and begins to light it. "Now, lemme ask you, if you do feel obligated to answer a pretty simple little question....what do you think would happen next?"

He puts the cigar in between his lips, taking a moment to inhale and see, if and how, Ivana answers him.

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ThisIsGonnaHurt

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@maverick_6:

I could hear a popping in my ears as Bold talked.

I think I want Ghoul to get his ass kicked by the guy.

NANOMACHINES SON

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Marco_Aurelius

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I smell a fight brewing.

Delicious.

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Maverick_6

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The_Shogun

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I love Maverick hehe.

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ThisIsGonnaHurt

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@maverick_6:

I'm sneaking into his office and rearranging his pens.

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Marco_Aurelius

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Maverick_6

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arquitenens

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That was funny as heck!

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Maverick_6

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#5836  Edited By Maverick_6
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The_Shogun

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#5837  Edited By The_Shogun

@maverick_6:

Ivana arched a black eyebrow in genuine bemusement.

"This metaphor, you have stretched it much too far. But okay. I will play."

"Putin will say and do whatever he wishes. Gates will make his case for his point of view, but will not cross the line. He is an engineer, not a KBG officer."

She spun an armored finger in a circle.

"I will extend this overstretched metaphor a little longer. Gates is a.. how do you say.. technology-man. He knows technology. And business. He knows them very well. But there are other things he does not know. Worlds, he does not know because he does not live in them."

"Putin does. Not only does he live in them but he conquered them and rose to command a nation by doing so."

She pointed a finger at Bold and then back to herself.

"This is the difference between us. Like Gates you found something that was already there and made it work better than ever. It has much value and brought you much wealth."

"And like Putin I started on the bottom of a very competitive, very secretive and dangerous field. And I defeated everyone and rose to the top."

White teeth gleamed like a wolves fangs when she grinned.

"Somewhere out there-" A wave of a gauntlet. "-in another universe I joined Maverick instead of the Strigidae. And in that universe I am sitting in your chair right now. You are dead."

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deactivated-57916056a8182

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The sheer amount of posturing in this interaction is impressive even by CV standards.
The sheer amount of posturing in this interaction is impressive even by CV standards.

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The_Shogun

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@armistice: Let me assure you that both Ivana and Bold are everything they say they are ~__^ And they've both actually proven it lol.

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arquitenens

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Yikes. That was awesome. Badass.

Can't wait to see the reply.

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deactivated-57916056a8182

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@armistice: Let me assure you that both Ivana and Bold are everything they say they are ~__^ And they've both actually proven it lol.

I agree both have proven themselves in their own way, just not in the manner made in the comparisons (Ivana-Putin and Maverick-Gates). It's not meant as a slam against either, just the perspective does not fit IMO.

It feels more like posturing to push the image of how they want to be perceived themselves or others to perceive the other in a light that benefits them. Nothing wrong with projecting the image one wants to be seen in for negotiation or political means, or even if they see themselves as that way IC, but OOC I see them both as very different than the personas they exhibit in their public roles.

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The_Shogun

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@armistice: Scratches head. This being a comic book universe both have proven themselves well beyond both of the comparisons given. Neither Gates nor Putin have dealt with superhuman rivals or rivals with superhuman intelligence or proficiency and neither have confronted the omnipresent threat of death and violence that both Ivana and Bold live with.

It is really Gates and Putin that do not deserve to be compared to comic book individuals. The same way Brock Lesner cannot be compared to Captian America too closely; comic book people are simply superior. So I am not really sure where you are coming from with this particular criticism.

Nor am I sure why you are trying to bury us after both of us went out of our way to help you with the CVxU. Maverick especially.

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arquitenens

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@the_shogun said:

@armistice: Let me assure you that both Ivana and Bold are everything they say they are ~__^ And they've both actually proven it lol.

I agree both have proven themselves in their own way, just not in the manner made in the comparisons (Ivana-Putin and Maverick-Gates). It's not meant as a slam against either, just the perspective does not fit IMO.

I agree with this much.

Cutting bullets out of the air, fighting superpowered beings, multiples at a time?

Ivana's way more awesome than Putin could ever hope to be.

Insert "nanomachines" meme here.

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deactivated-57916056a8182

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@armistice: Scratches head. This being a comic book universe both have proven themselves well beyond both of the comparisons given. Neither Gates nor Putin have dealt with superhuman rivals or rivals with superhuman intelligence or proficiency and neither have confronted the omnipresent threat of death and violence that both Ivana and Bold live with.

It is really Gates and Putin that do not deserve to be compared to comic book individuals. The same way Brock Lesner cannot be compared to Captian America too closely; comic book people are simply superior. So I am not really sure where you are coming from with this particular criticism.

Nor am I sure why you are trying to bury us after both of us went out of our way to help you with the CVxU. Maverick especially.

It is not a criticism because it is not a comment related to status or superiority (perceived or otherwise) as to who is better or greater than whom in any way. It is an observation of how the actual methods used in their rises to power and the state of their positions really do not fit all that well (IMO) with the comparisons other than they project an image more favorable to public consumption than what may not be known to the other IC.

IMO both are posturing to push the image they want/need for their goals rather than what actually fits, this is not an insult, just noting the perceived gamesmanship between the two. Your posts portraying Ivana in private and in public paint very different pictures and neither fits Putin IMO.

Not attempting to bury / insult / start an Armistice Problem in any manner, just commenting on how I perceive the two compared to how they are portraying themselves in the interaction. It is not a judgement, just an observation.

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The_Shogun

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@armistice: To be honest I don't feel like you know anything about Putin's rise to power. Or Ivana's rise to power, for that matter. Or even Gates or Putin and Ivana in private or basically anything that's going on here. You just wanted to criticize and get your jabs in. You always do. Its okay. I'll return the favor next time you're looking to get something going ~__^

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deactivated-57916056a8182

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@the_shogun:

So because I don't see things exactly as you do I must not know anything about anything.....OK, apparently the why does not matter because you never bothered to even ask.

We both know by history that if my intention was to make a direct jab at you I would just go right out and say it as such, but if you want to take this as one there is really nothing to be done.

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The_Shogun

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@armistice: No, because you always look to bury anyone you interact with or are involved with at all. (See the saga of Armistice burying STRIKE and Sha's character in every single post ever after she gave him a chance when nobody would touch him with a ten foot pole)

That's your history. You jab and snipe and pretend you didn't and act like it was all IC and whine about being nosold when you go out of your way to undercut other people's characters and concepts. Even when those people try to help you. Its just who you are. You can't control yourself. You are always going to be out to tear down. You're good when you have a concept that's based around that, like Dox. That was pretty good stuff because it was in line with your natural instincts and you had a genuine IC excuse for your behavior. Marry that to a character who seemed to be powerless so he appeared to be 'punching up' and its great.

But then eventually you quit. And you had an actual point that time. The Liafadors were not going to put you over, ever. They did sell you to a moderate degree but you wanted more than that. Ehhh... fair enough, actually on both of your parts that time. I can't blame them considering you just came off a 'Bury Sha and her stuff' arc and I can't blame you considering if you don't have a hope of going over even once there's no point.

Now that you are without that concept to give you an outlet for that impulse, that need, you have to go back to doing this stuff. Sniping and digging and jabing with every single post.

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deactivated-59c716930b8a6

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@armistice: No, because you always look to bury anyone you interact with or are involved with at all. (See the saga of Armistice burying STRIKE and Sha's character in every single post ever after she gave him a chance when nobody would touch him with a ten foot pole)

That's your history. You jab and snipe and pretend you didn't and act like it was all IC and whine about being nosold when you go out of your way to undercut other people's characters and concepts. Even when those people try to help you. Its just who you are. You can't control yourself. You are always going to be out to tear down. You're good when you have a concept that's based around that, like Dox. That was pretty good stuff because it was in line with your natural instincts and you had a genuine IC excuse for your behavior. Marry that to a character who seemed to be powerless so he appeared to be 'punching up' and its great.

But then eventually you quit. And you had an actual point that time. The Liafadors were not going to put you over, ever. They did sell you to a moderate degree but you wanted more than that. Ehhh... fair enough, actually on both of your parts that time. I can't blame them considering you just came off a 'Bury Sha and her stuff' arc and I can't blame you considering if you don't have a hope of going over even once there's no point.

Now that you are without that concept to give you an outlet for that impulse, that need, you have to go back to doing this stuff. Sniping and digging and jabing with every single post.

1 - Everything I did with STRIKE and Sha's event was plot related and planned out in a PM between us beforehand, my whole involvement was to move things forward and to push her plot/story line. The questions and concerns regarding STRIKE were her ideas in a PM that I went off of, if I went off script she didn't say anything about it. Was never planning on taking part until a PM conversation about other things lead that way, go ahead and ask her.

2 - How is actually challenging characters and their concepts undercutting them, isn't the point of an RPG is to create conflicts to explore and resolve? How is someone perceiving a character or concept differently than the writer suddenly a crime? How is pointing out characters posturing an insult when everyone does it to one level or another to push things IC? It's not tearing down, it is looking for the holes (that every concept has including mine) with which to create an opportunity for something interesting and not the same old everyone shows up and punches someone. People sure want to be politicians and freely use all the potential benefits that come with it, but at the same time do not want to actually play politics unless it suits them, questioning them in this manner should be expected and not taken as a slight. No one is entitled to have everyone else just take their word for everything because it is how they see it.

3 - All I expect is for people to respect my characters and concepts and not to waste my time, when that proves to be not the case I bolt. As for questioning them, honestly I wish more people would do so , none of them are beyond reproach and I never pretended otherwise.

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ThisIsGonnaHurt

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@doctor_wheatley:

Uh, yeah...this thread...

Just don't make eye contact...and we're good.

Ready? :P