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Messages - Flint

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Forum Games / Re: Last Post Wins!
« on: February 17, 2020, 10:44:46 PM »
I don't like that post. Its coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere

Forum Games / Re: Last Post Wins!
« on: February 17, 2020, 07:39:35 PM »
Star Wars is for dweebs

As soon as Monty felt the environment change, he scrambled away from the teleporter. His back hitting the wall, he took a quick scan of the room he was in, the pannelling of the walls reminding him of the British Sanctuary's walls. What were they doing here?. The witch barked an order at Rico, demanding he go after the one who'd fixed his eyes, whatever that meant. The other merc darted out of the room, leaving him to face both Ortez and the Teleporter. Suddenly his crafty pursuit of the teleporter didn't seem so crafty at all.

Quickly coming to his feet, he raised his fists. The room was too cramped to effectively use his guns, so a close quarters fight was sure to ensue. Ximena beckoned him onwards, and Monty momentarily eyed the Russian, noticing that it was Ximena that looked ready to fight rather than him. Then again, he could easily teleport behind Monty once the scrap began. Damn, if only Cutter were here. His partner was somewhere in this building, but there was no way Monty would be able to contact him in time. Even if he could, he had no clue where in the Sanctuary he was, so a contact could have been useless. Unless...

Unless he really did have use for the gun. Honestly, he'd have rather been thrown in a cell than torn apart by a vampire. He also didn't fancy Rico managing to kill whoever it was Ximena wanted dead. So, Monty drew his gun and fired at the pair, letting off three loud shots before he dropped the weapon and made to fight up close. Ximena was as fast as a bullet if she wanted to be, the distance would be closed between them in a couple seconds. Monty bellowed in rage as he ran at his enemy.
I hope to llama someone heard that

Monty was surprised another bullet hadn't finished him off by now. He wasn't exactly in the position to dodge another attack. Still, the other merc showed no signs of backing down any time soon. What did this dog of female orientation have over Classified? he wondered, eyeing the other man. When they'd escaped the cannibals in Boston, Rico had seemed like an alright fella. Monty would have at least expected a warning from the masked man before any shots were fired off.

The dog of female orientation. Ximena stood over him now, flanked by a janky-looking man who hadn't been there a second before.  A Teleporter. As Ximena bid her farewells, Monty acted on instinct, though usually Cutter had once told him that in his case doing that was akin to suicide. He wasn't sure where they were going, or who they'd meet on the other side, but Scarce wasn't letting go of this fight so easily. Lurching forward, he made to seize The Russian's ankle, hoping to hell he was quick enough.

Monty had initially felt a sharp dislike of the vampire. It was quickly turning to a burning hatred. She practically cackled at him as she set Classified on him. He'd never seen anything like it, but had to assume the woman had some sort of mind-manipulating abilities. The merc wondered why she hadn't ordered him to shoot himself by now. Surely that'd have been easier. No, maybe she just had something over the masked man.

Whatever it was, Monty hadn't much time for contemplation. Rico set his glazed over eyes on Scarce now, the man firing off two well placed shots in the Horseman's direction. Monty swore, diving for cover but finding none. One of the shots missed, but the other caught him on the shoulder, tearing up flesh and bone as it laced right through his limb. Monty growled ferally, the wound a mere scratch when compared to others he'd suffered. The Mystic Arts had taught him to deal with such pains. Gripping his wounded shoulder, he drew his gun with his free hand, trying to aim for Ximena but only finding Rico. In his other hand, his ring glowed, drawing power from the Mystic Dimension to heal his wound, slowly and carefully sewing up the muscle and skin, clotting the blood. He snarled at Rico, doubt quickly setting in on whether he'd be able to keep his promises to Aria.

I'll get him back, Kane. Won't even have to wound the dodgy individual of illegitimate birth!

Approved Profiles / Re: Brynn Halcyon
« on: August 16, 2019, 02:12:53 PM »
A real interesting character. Just a few questions :)
(click to show/hide)

I've got 0 problems with the bio, its very well written

Europe / Re: Redemption 2.0 RP (Flint and Kei)
« on: August 14, 2019, 07:56:09 PM »
He came to shore on a little beach, coarse sand quickly giving way to stones and then large boulders. He rested his back against one such rock, immediately tearing the overalls from his back after kicking off his soggy boot (he'd lost the other in the swim). Tossing it to sand, the hunter ran a hand over the arrow he'd kept, cringing at the unpleasant feeling of salt in his eyes and sand clinging to his feet. Focusing, he morphed the arrow into an entire quiver of 28, resting it against the rock. then, taking three more, he was able to morph up a boot, a small towel and fresh overalls. While the boot fit well, he found the new overalls cut into his underarms more than the old ones, and they didn't look so authentic. He'd had more time to focus when cooking those up. The towel had managed to dry him somewhat, and by the time he was redressed he didn't feel so cold.


The voice was clearly Matt's though he still wasn't used to hearing his ally telepathically. Matt spoke of armed guards with strange weapons, and the hunter's brow creased in response. he peeked over the rock and saw the other mage watching over their enemies, taking cover behind some boxes. From the this angle, it seemed like Matt was in one of those old side-scrolling video games. Thinking out his words, Flint tried to reply to Bennett.
"I see you. I'm down by the shore, so I can loop around these guys if needs be. I'll let you go first though."

Jumping ship meant Flint got further down the shore, and looping around the dock would lead him into the hills. From there he could follow the lights to the compound, whether he had to climb or fight his way. Still, he decided to wait for Matt. His ally would need to sneak through the men, or double back. If things wet wrong, Flint could cause some kind of diversion, or charge in and supply covering fire. He took a final arrow, gripping it tight as it morphed into a sleek mnemosium bow, the limbs sharpening.

Fight Club / Re: Fight Club!
« on: August 14, 2019, 09:04:07 AM »

New Members / Re: hi
« on: August 09, 2019, 03:18:10 PM »
Big nono

Europe / Re: Redemption 2.0 RP (Flint and Kei)
« on: July 31, 2019, 12:47:54 PM »
Flint looked on enviously as Matthew partially disappeared, floating up through the roof. That would have made this much easier.. He crept up the steps, grateful for the boots Dai had given him. While they did not fully suppress the sound of his footsteps, they significantly muffled them, and the monster hunter felt a bit more at ease knowing he didn't have to worry as much about being hear. Coming to the crest of the steps, Flint leaned against a metallic wall. the sound of the waves suddenly more clear, along with the voices of dockworkers.

Pulling his cap well over his face, he walked outside, the cool night's air refreshing. On the far end of the boat, he saw the last of the men disembark, likely heading to stay the night in some kind of barrack. Nearby, he saw Matt crouching in the shadows, though he really had to focus to notice the Magiphage. A useful skill, in the right environment. Flint didn't dare signal him, as it could well have revealed his location or a falter in Flint's disguise.

He looked to the dock, and noticed the dozen or so men that stood by the ship. Most were unarmed, though a couple that looked like guards carried nightsticks and pistols. There was no clear way down the decking and onto the dock, unless...

Flint eyed Matt again before he walked to the side of the boat facing out to sea, and, very discretely, he vaulted the boat's edge. He hit the water with a crash, the cold immediately shocking him. As he surfaced, he noticed the current was weak, and began to swim around the ship, gripping the arrow at his wrist tightly. He'd need it to morph up some new clothes soon. His arms and legs worked, and it seemed an age before he hit shore, but he did. Crawling onto the beach a couple hundred metres from the docking bay, Flint crawled behind a large seaside rock, resting against its smooth sedimentary surface for a moment to get his bearings.

If the cool air hadn't woken the hunter up, that certainly had.

Monty swore obscenities as the vampire grabbed a child of all things to take the hits for her. The merc lost sight of his enemy as she tossed the girl aside and disappeared into the crowd. Advancing, he saw a number of people fall to the aid of the kid, and another man who made right for him. He was big; burly and taller than Monty, his head red as a tomato. He batted Monty's gun aside and took a swing at the merc's jaw. Monty then fired a few shots into the air, sending the crowd scattering further. He looked the man in the eye/ His were the eyes of a killer, but the man had the look of someone who had something to live for.
"Don't do something you'll regret old man", he snarled, barging past the big guy and moving in Ortez' direction. All around, the people avoided him, their faces terrified. He swore again, realising how much unpleasant excrement this was going to put him in. Forget fake ID's and Sensitive mind-wipers, Monty was going to need Rojas to make him a new face after all this unpleasant excrement.

He knew what he was doing was wrong, but necessary. Aria sounded desperate, as though Rico had really gotten himself into the unpleasant excrement this time. She too knew that sending Monty after him rather than alerting his Sanctuary was beyond unethical. Still, if she was going to this length to save Classified, it must have been for some good reason. Aria was a good kid.

His eyes fell on Rico and Ximena now, and a smile stretched across his face. They'd cornered her!. Moving closer, he poised his handgun at the vamp's head, arching an eyebrow indicatively. "You wanna take her? or shall I?". Then he looked closer at the masked merc. Something was wrong. Classified was unarmed, his face slack, devoid of expression. His arms at his side, he showed no desire to attack that psychotic vampire, who was smiling very smugly now.

Europe / Re: Redemption 2.0 RP (Flint and Kei)
« on: July 30, 2019, 04:00:00 PM »
He was glad for Matt's optimism, and his chattiness. Were it not for his bubbly demeanour an awkward silence would have reigned over their journey. Flint had next to nothing to say for the last few hours. They'd gone over the plan repeatedly, with no real need to talk about what was to come. There was also the fact that Flint had no idea what would happen after their mission. Like he said, either they'd walk free or die, but Flint had no idea what walking free meant any more. In his eyes, the damage had been done. The people he had left would be hurt when he returned. He'd let everyone assume he was dead, though he knew it was the right thing to do, somehow.

Maybe it wasn't totally ridiculous to be optimistic. Matt made a convincing case for this mission being a breeze. This organisation had no idea what was about to hit them. They thought they were invisible to the world, but a shimmer in their disguise had shown. They'd pay for it this time. No bombs, no deaths. Just a whole lot of individuals of illegitimate birth placed in chains.

The ship came to a rocking halt, and men began to unload boxes from the upper deck. Flint stood up, tucking his arrow under the grey overalls he was wearing, just like those of the crew. At a distance, the disguise would work, but any crew member would mark them as newcomers by face. Moving for the steps upward, he tried for a smile as he beckoned Matt forward.
"Let's keep the jokes for when we finish this", he suggested, listening closely for any stragglers on deck. "But you're right, this should be okay. Probably. Let's move".

Europe / Re: Redemption 2.0 RP (Flint and Kei)
« on: July 30, 2019, 12:13:37 PM »
His eyes were still for most of the journey. Flint had been drifting in and out of sleep as the boat rocked through the waves that brought them forward. Brief dreams and vivid memories came and went, sometimes jolting him awake, responded to with the odd silent curse. He'd been restless the last two months, even moreso in the last fortnight. They'd been planning something important, something their normal lives depended on, and Flint didn't fully believe they deserved to succeed.

That night all those weeks ago, in China. It had been bloody, brutal and scarring. Dozens killed in the attack and bombing of the Sanctuary, more wounded beyond repair, and they'd had a hand in it all. He looked at his hands, and thought of washing them of blood. He looked to his bow, and was plagued with guilt. There was no reversing what had happened in China, and the most he could do at this stage was try and atone for it.

That meant clearing his comrades names. It mean unveiling the group responsible for this and making sure they were taken down. He'd have Matt, try and track down Dingo, Dirk, Shadowban. Hell, maybe he point Gideon Macabre in the direction of the people he put a bomb in him. This organisation had an army of enemies, waiting for them to poke their head out.

He couldn't think of that now. He needed to get this job done. He needed to go home, tell Saph, Hawk and Tessa that he'd made it out. He needed to find a way to live with what had happened, before he tore himself apart. As the boat came to dock, the hunter looked to Matt, noting the difference in how the young mage looked at him these days. There was a time when they'd have had a drink together. Lately Flint felt as though the Magiphage would have preferred to never see him again.
"You ready?"

New Members / Re: Casually sneaks in here
« on: July 29, 2019, 02:44:19 PM »

Glad to see a newbie here. Check out the discord to discuss the books and pop culture, just be a - tad caredul of certain channels that may contain spoilers (labelled spoiler-talk so you should be good). Our RP team will also be there fairly frequently to take questions about the RP. Hope you like it here!

Finding The Red Church proved easy; it was, after all, a large red church. It loomed over the street, even moreso than the office blocks by which it was flanked. Ditching his bike on the sidewalk, Scarce waded into the crowd, pushing past ranks of screaming pedestrians, stooping on his toes to see over heads in an attempt to gauge what in Sam hell was going on. He thought of touching the symbols etched on his shirt underarms, revealing the pistol and ammo on his side holsters, but the presence of the guards stopped him in his tracks. He frowned as he saw that even some of the policemen were running, shouting into radios in request of armed response. Honestly, it would have been much easier if they all carried guns.

Monty came to a clearing just in time to see a young lady viciously tear at a man's head with what could only be described as a metallic claw. Her eyes were as deep brown as his own, her frame wiry, her teeth sharp. She watched the wounded man cry in agony for a moment, a sick smile playing on her lips. Monty was a killer, but he wasn't sadistic. He didn't enjoy killing people, at least not when they didn't have it coming. There wasn't a doubt in the merc's mind that this woman was crazy. He knew his crazies.

So he pulled a gun on her. With a quick scratch of the arm pit his P226 appeared with its holster, and he drew it in one fluid motion. The gun poised at Ximena's chest, Monty noticed Classified over her shoulder. He was holding a blade. Scarce focused on his target, weighing up if he wanted to take Ortez out or just wound her. The woman seemed deadly, and if he didn't end the fight quickly, she might have gotten the better of him. For that reason alone, he aimed a little higher, hoping to land a shot on the vampire's already marred neck. Scarce ignored the guards behind him, who urged him to drop his weapon. He didn't do 'hands in the air', or 'stand down's. If a target was in his way, he had to remove it. He had people who could cover up his tracks after. Monty squeezed the trigger thrice, watching closely for his enemy's reaction.

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