Zuka, Morbie, Wazulu, MasX, and other gentlemanly denizens of the green list and otherwise.
Bodies break, minds dull, and souls bend to the desert winds of those who traverse the burren. Aimless, leaderless, without kin or clan they wander, their crews as stray as the sands and bent as the crease on their brows. A life unknown to the world they lead, among silent lobbies and desolate canyons, broken as the "pyramidion" pyramidion's beneath their feet...
And yet sometimes hope emerges for these dwellers of the skies: order, reason, a chance to fly among friends and prove their worth as a GENTLEMEN among savages. Here the lone airman can stand tall among his fellows, tricorns held high in the knowledge that they are a part of something much greater than themselves. They have found the Gents, an oasis of honer and teamwork in the vast powder monkey desert: a place of plushies, of horrific ship-based puns, and maybe even a Churrosaur.
Maybe?
Anyways. occupation: well rounded, mike: multiple, playing: ... a while, I'm sure some of you can attest to my skill level. yup!
hope to see you on the field of battle
Cíao