Live and Let Die

warriorcourier:

He glances at Badou, body turning slightly. He’s interested now. Carrying his weight around? Hm, he could interpret that a few different ways, but he’ll go with what he thinks he means.

“While I am, admittedly, a bit of an old dog in a world of new tricks, I’ve seen some rather strong individuals out and about causing trouble for the local population.” He puts both his hands on his hips. “I know myself well as a warrior- but I also know that there are those that are stronger than me. If I’m to eventually compete, I’ll need something to compete with. Armor, a weapon…as much as I dislike the thought of fighting for nonsense, one can never be unprepared. “

He had the feeling….it was that, or protecting others. In a way, it’s a bit of that. Badou’s mouth quirks upwards.

“Not a bad idea, dude. Not bad at all.” Badou says it proudly, like he has any reason to be.

“I’m happy to help, then. You can never be too careful around here, can’t get caught with your pants down.” You know, if you have pants…

“You know, believe it or not, I do actually wear leg protection when I wear armor.” Armored pants! Now that’s an upgrade. “Ah, but anything I can make with my hands and store bought materials isn’t really a match for anything made with a forge. Steel and iron are more than a match for sticks and string.” But now comes the time to think about what actually he wants. While he’s more used to pole arms and heavy armor, his life experience of using other things and wearing lighter armor never went away. “Would you like to accompany me while I look for a place to procure some goods?”

#baddestdangerboy

He wonders if there’s a forge in the city. Perhaps a foundry? Maybe even an armory. Perhaps some place to get his hands on something he’s familiar with. Weapons, of course. He’s been feeling rather…left out, without any of his main armament. He can craft all the little toys he wants, but at the end of the day, that’s practically all they are. No more useful for self defense than a good punch.

He’s staring at a city map, one hand on his hip, the other on his chin.

Hopefully she wasn’t too quiet in her approach. She doesn’t think she can startle the instructor, but one can never be too sure. It’s why she speaks as she approach and asks “what are you looking for?” There are new things on the map, of course. The museum, a forge, and some other stores that people opened up either before or after the museum.

Hansol is now seated next to Roro. Her head tilts curiously and while she’s not trying to invade his personal space she can’t help but try and glimpse over.

Having eyes on either side of one’s head was very good for keeping his own back watched, but having a familiar face call out as they approached was nice as well. He turns his head, purple eye moving to glance at Hansol. “Ah…I’m looking for somewhere to purchase arms and perhaps armor from. I’ve been seeing fights between denizens here and there around the city, and while I’m capable with my bare hands and feet, a good warrior knows they need a good weapon to be able to compete. I’m no blacksmith, but I’ve watched my father and my people tire over a forge enough to have learned.”

“OH!” Right he had been gone and only returned again. He missed not a whole lot, but enough. She smiles, leans over and uses her index finger to circle an area on one of the wards, “Right here. There’s a forge called Fire and Iron. It’s fairly new, they haven’t been opened for that long, BUT I heard the people there are very sweet and the one who makes weapons and such is very good at what he does.”

something does peak her curiosity though. He said he’s seen people fighting and she wonders…

“Do you by chance—Do you remember if two men were fighting one of those time? One of them has short white hair. The other has black. Tired looking.” Please say no please say no.

He tilts his head, recalling what he could about his observations. “There were two men for sure, but it was not my business, so I did not try to close in on them. I do remember they were very strong. One was perhaps of an Eastern fighting style, I remember one sword for sure, a curved blade...but that’s as much as I can recall, I’m sorry.” “Fire and Iron, you say? Do you know where this place is? Or how much they charge?”

#fcxrcin

warriorcourier:

A familiar face, come to help him perhaps? He looks at Badou, before looking back at the map. “One might think, aha, but I’m not looking for any old building my friend. I’m looking for somewhere I might be able to purchase arms or perhaps armor from…maybe a forge to make my own. I’m not a blacksmith per say, but my father and my tribe were fairly well versed in it. Even somewhere I could get leather or such things…I can make good armor just out of thick cloth.” Why would he need these things? Well, he’s been seeing more and more powerful beings pop up here and there, and they seem to be strong in their own right, so he’s got to stay prepared.

Badou had thought Ro wasn’t interested in fighting anymore….maybe he’s found a cause here in all this chaos.

“I know both– a place they’ll probably let you do your own, and some places you can get armor. Which would you prefer?”

He’s found the right person– well, Badou stumbled upon him, actually.

“Thinking of carrying your weight around?”

#;badou;#baddestdangerboy

He glances at Badou, body turning slightly. He’s interested now. Carrying his weight around? Hm, he could interpret that a few different ways, but he’ll go with what he thinks he means.

“While I am, admittedly, a bit of an old dog in a world of new tricks, I’ve seen some rather strong individuals out and about causing trouble for the local population.” He puts both his hands on his hips. “I know myself well as a warrior- but I also know that there are those that are stronger than me. If I’m to eventually compete, I’ll need something to compete with. Armor, a weapon...as much as I dislike the thought of fighting for nonsense, one can never be unprepared. “

warriorcourier:

He wonders if there’s a forge in the city. Perhaps a foundry? Maybe even an armory. Perhaps some place to get his hands on something he’s familiar with. Weapons, of course. He’s been feeling rather…left out, without any of his main armament. He can craft all the little toys he wants, but at the end of the day, that’s practically all they are. No more useful for self defense than a good punch.

He’s staring at a city map, one hand on his hip, the other on his chin.

Well there’s a familiar face– er, beak. Badou doesn’t sneak up behind Ro or anything, but he does saddle up to his side to peer down at the map he’s pondering over.

“What’s up? You’re pretty focused on that. Shouldn’t you know your way around by now?” He teases.

A familiar face, come to help him perhaps? He looks at Badou, before looking back at the map. “One might think, aha, but I’m not looking for any old building my friend. I’m looking for somewhere I might be able to purchase arms or perhaps armor from...maybe a forge to make my own. I’m not a blacksmith per say, but my father and my tribe were fairly well versed in it. Even somewhere I could get leather or such things...I can make good armor just out of thick cloth.” Why would he need these things? Well, he’s been seeing more and more powerful beings pop up here and there, and they seem to be strong in their own right, so he’s got to stay prepared.

#baddestdangerboy

He wonders if there’s a forge in the city. Perhaps a foundry? Maybe even an armory. Perhaps some place to get his hands on something he’s familiar with. Weapons, of course. He’s been feeling rather…left out, without any of his main armament. He can craft all the little toys he wants, but at the end of the day, that’s practically all they are. No more useful for self defense than a good punch.

He’s staring at a city map, one hand on his hip, the other on his chin.

Hopefully she wasn’t too quiet in her approach. She doesn’t think she can startle the instructor, but one can never be too sure. It’s why she speaks as she approach and asks “what are you looking for?” There are new things on the map, of course. The museum, a forge, and some other stores that people opened up either before or after the museum.

Hansol is now seated next to Roro. Her head tilts curiously and while she’s not trying to invade his personal space she can’t help but try and glimpse over.

#fcxrcin #old man thinking about coming out of retirement

Having eyes on either side of one’s head was very good for keeping his own back watched, but having a familiar face call out as they approached was nice as well. He turns his head, purple eye moving to glance at Hansol. “Ah...I’m looking for somewhere to purchase arms and perhaps armor from. I’ve been seeing fights between denizens here and there around the city, and while I’m capable with my bare hands and feet, a good warrior knows they need a good weapon to be able to compete. I’m no blacksmith, but I’ve watched my father and my people tire over a forge enough to have learned.”

He wonders if there’s a forge in the city. Perhaps a foundry? Maybe even an armory. Perhaps some place to get his hands on something he’s familiar with. Weapons, of course. He’s been feeling rather...left out, without any of his main armament. He can craft all the little toys he wants, but at the end of the day, that’s practically all they are. No more useful for self defense than a good punch.

He’s staring at a city map, one hand on his hip, the other on his chin.

#isola open

Is someone having a fight? Oh dear. He does not like that.

#isola dash

She’d always asked him about his culture and his people, for stories and for other things. Instead of just telling her, he also offered to show her.

Most of the things he needed in life before moving to more modern civilization, were created out of simple materials. Simple cups, or bowls. Forked things for roasting over a fire. Today though, he was showing her wood carving, a thing most of his kind did in their spare time.

“…so it was less of, say, a trade based skill rather, we made carvings of things important to us in our lives. Some of us had deities or ancestors from different parts of the world. I used to carry a little carving of a cracked egg an apothecary gave me.” He explains, turning the little wood piece over in his hand and shaving the wood with a small knife. In between words he’s glancing between her and the block of wood.

@fcxrcin

“That explains a lot. That explains why you’re so good.” She’s amazed, but also, she’s keeping this in mind. Learning from him in how to carve, in case she’ll need to know the skill. One can never be too sure after all!

“What happened to the egg? Did the stars take it away?” Her honey brown eyes glances up at his with a tilt of her head. She would have loved to see the carving. “Would you be able to carve something like it again or does it have to be from the one who gave it to you?”

She’s so interested about his life and the world he comes from. She always enjoys his stories and she never fails to ask questions. Sometime, perhaps too much?

#hi!! sorry i've been dead but im still here #fcxrcin

“Ah- see, I could carve something similar, but never something the same. It’s more about the importance of who gave it to you and why, rather than the object itself.” He says to her, running his thumb over the carving he’s making.

“I lost the egg a long, long time ago. And while it was a nice gift, it was nothing super significant to me. Apothecaries used to hand similar things called idols out, little figures or carvings of deities we used to worship. I myself had a necklace of these things I used to wear, again lost a long time ago.”

#fcxrcin

@eliminatorleck

What kind of human was that? Or were they a monster like him? Maybe a hybrid? With what though? An...elephant? Armadillo? Did armadillo people exist? Maybe, Roro’s never seen one...at least, he thinks. Ah, he’s staring.

“Sorry. My apologies. Staring is a bad habit of mine.”

#eliminatorleck

She’d always asked him about his culture and his people, for stories and for other things. Instead of just telling her, he also offered to show her.

Most of the things he needed in life before moving to more modern civilization, were created out of simple materials. Simple cups, or bowls. Forked things for roasting over a fire. Today though, he was showing her wood carving, a thing most of his kind did in their spare time.

“...so it was less of, say, a trade based skill rather, we made carvings of things important to us in our lives. Some of us had deities or ancestors from different parts of the world. I used to carry a little carving of a cracked egg an apothecary gave me.” He explains, turning the little wood piece over in his hand and shaving the wood with a small knife. In between words he’s glancing between her and the block of wood.

@fcxrcin

(Need to get back into the swing of things! Like for a starter, capped at 3. This is for new followers/those I haven’t interacted with! Friends/housemates exempt if you wanna like this too :D )

#isola starter call

It wasn’t often that he’d get those inclinations, but, being an avian species as he was, he still felt the need to fly the coop. Standing on the tallest building for miles, he feels the wind rustle his feathers.

Though a hybrid between the long forgotten variations of his tribe, they all craved the open air. It was a lifestyle, a part of them. City structure was not something he was made for. It was unhealthy for him to stay grounded so long. He need to stretch. He needed to fly.

Taking a deep breath, he tips over the edge, arms open, head first into the open air.

#isola starter call #isola open #isola drabble

warriorcourier:

He sits, drink in hand.

“So, you want to hear a story, eh?”

“Duh,” he snorts. “That’s the best thing to do when you’re drinking– that or eating. Or watching a show or something. Still, c’mon, a story.”

God, he sounds like a little kid, doesn’t he.