#scrapbladebandit

[kriegthe-psycho]

[Closed RP with scrapbladebandit]

Krieg was tired and a bit worn out but he continued on anyway. His hulking body splattered with the red mahogany blood of Bloodshot bandits, scars littered his tan body and his buzzaxe was dragged along in the sand of the Dust. It was dark and the moon was high out, the huge H covering it in a large area of the desert. It was cold and the wind was blowing, disturbing the sand around him. Krieg was far to focused on the ground to realize the shadow behind him. His thoughts on the killing if the deserving and of the small pay he had gotten. A rip off some would say. Marcus, the gun merchant was always like that but Krieg thought it was good pay -he was wrong. "HNNG, not fair! Gun head should have better Gifts for the needy", he screamed out into the barren wasteland. Hearing nothing but his echoes and the wind. "IT'S TOO QUIET, pop a head off so the whispers can turn to YELLS" he continued to yell, rearing up. Buzz axe gleaming red in the moon to be brought down again in the sand. He didn't care that the shadow was getting closer, he never knew it was there. He stopped and signed, what was he doing? Wandering the Dust for what? Nothing? A purpose? He didn't know what. scrapbladebandit

[poachersnest-blog]

   scrapbladebandit:

Smirk turns into a wide smile, more than willing to give them a chance at the partnership. Though as many times as she had been burned and back stabbed in the past perhaps she should have been a bit more cautious of a complete stranger. It simply wasn’t in her nature to start out mistrustful.

“Okay there then guy.” Shaking their hand just as firmly as they did her own. “I haven’t really been hunting before per say, but I can be quiet.” Letting go of their hand giving the Echo a quick check at her belt before looking back up at them. “You got what you need? We can do your thing first and then go to find this beep.” Tapping the device.

"Well, just as long as you keep quiet and outta the way, you should be good." It probably came of ruder than intended, but the poacher’s social skills, as usual, were more than rusty. "Almost- just needed to run in and grab one a’ my bags," They answered, nodding their head over to the somewhat dugout skag hole Tox called home. "Just stay put while I do- don’t need ya settin’ off any of the traps I got around the entrance." 

After ducking into the burrow, they reappeared shortly after, a new bag thrown over their back- after all, had to have something to keep the meat in. “Well, let’s get headin’ off, then.” 

[obstinatedeals-blog]

scrapbladebandit

“That either makes you the smartest person on Pandora or the stupidest.” Holding out her hand. “Okay August name’s Red. Heard you were into making deals?”

"well, maybe sometimes both." He takes her offered hand, shaking it once "Depends what kind of deals."

[accountingforadeathwish-blog]

Action vs. Office Work

Hyperion had always offered small jobs out to those who were willing to get their hands dirty. Over time however, it seemed that those offers were increasing, the demand for potential enemies to be killed rising each year. People in the accounting department took turns dealing with those who came in to claim their reward. There were not many who actually came onto Helios, which was better; not all Pandorians were well behaved. 

Today, it was Vaughn's turn to help make someone a little richer. He was in the middle of finishing up something he had previously been wronging on when a woman took a seat in front of him. With-holding a sigh, Vaughn pushed his glasses to their proper place before turning his attention to his 'client'. 

"Hi, do you remember the title of the ECHO unit you picked up?" he asked, offering a tired smile. 

[xslabking]

scrapbladebandit

✭Weight shifting periodically Brick found himself resettling on his positioning on the outcropping—half-hidden by the spire of stone—as he watched the three technical converged on the open valley before him. While this wasn’t Slab territory it was close enough to Thousand Cuts that one of his scouts had caught his attention enough that he felt the need to investigate. Ignoring the nagging inkling that his friends might be irritated by this decision the berserker had chosen to leave his men behind—heading out to investigate this meeting of other scum and lowlife for himself. Not that he could actually hear anything. Only one bandit was out of the vehicle—not close enough where he could see if he had on any particular sign to tell where he's come from—but he was gesticulating rather insistently over and over towards one of the others in the closest technical. Frustrated with this—incapable of the patience to continue to wait—he started to work his way down from the outcropping, ready to crash a party in the most delightful way possible.