Character discussions?

[Imagine]

A little bit more stuff. It's actually a lot more difficult to write a story where the main character isn't referred to by name, makes it harder to not confuse readers as to whose action is taking place. Maybe I should've written it in the first person? Ah well, probably too late for that now. Slightly different format as well, I guess.

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*3 days before the event*

The sun's morning rays beat at the shuttered window, slithering through the cracks and burned at his eyelids. He stirred after a moment, bringing his hands to block out the brightness of the morning. Too early, it was much to early to be up this early.

"I'll really have to get that fixed one of these days..." he muttered, peering out from behind his fingers, glaring sleepily at the shutters. After several months of residence in this particular room, the season was finally beginning to turn to where it would become an everyday ordeal, and would only get worse as the days wore on.

He turned over, burying his face into the rough pillow, the morning stubble on his face scratching irritatingly. He rolled once more, scratching his chin. The morning so far had not gone in his favor, but too much had gone wrong so far to make any good attempt at falling back asleep. His thoughts would only flutter between cursing the sun, the pillow, his hair, and perhaps would roll into the regrets one has about life when they start to have nothing to do but remember things. He groaned and unwound himself from the thin blanket that had tangled up during the morning's ordeal, tossing off to the side. He stood, glaring down at the blanket, and stomped over to the washbasin to, at the very least, scrub the grime from his face, maybe even shave on this morning. He wasn't the type who shave too often, even a week's worth of growth would barely show, but he tried anyways; he often felt it had made him at least seem older, and less likely to be dismissed as a young novice. He was halfway through the morning ritual, when the banging on his door began, forceful and with urgency.

"Hey, you in there? Captain's calling for all hands, something about a new job!" came the yell from the other side, gruff and grating to the ears, even when muffled by a solid wooden door.

"Great, just great." He mumbled to himself, throwing the small towel he was holding across his neck, both sides draping across the front of his chest. He shuffled over to the door, moving lethargically from one end of the room to the other. Too early, much too early for any of this. The banging at the door began again, and the voice started calling out once more, with more force this time. "Hey! Wake u---"

He flung to door open angrily, staring at Carl, face in a grimace. Carl was several inches taller than him, shoulders wide and fit, bushy mustache combed neatly over his upper lip. Compared to Carl he was spindly, even with the rigors of working airship routes he never was able to pack on as muscle as some other crewmen. He was fine with this most of the time, often he was able to reach places others could not, could slink through a crowd to disappear when needed, but in moments like this, standing half naked and close up to someone of Carl's build, the differences were noticeably stark. A small pang of jealousy twitched through his head, but he re-doubled his efforts to frown at Carl's early morning disturbance.

"What." He said, making sure Carl knew it was a statement, not a question.

Carl paused for a moment, and glancing at the hand greeting him, still holding the razor he had in his hand, up in an almost threatening position. The edge had caught the morning sun, gleaming menacingly. Fantastic, he though, this morning just keeps getting better by the second. He flipped the razor closed, and tucked it into his waistband, putting his arms down to his side. Yes, the morning hadn't gotten off to a terrific start, but Carl's wasn't really at fault, he reminded himself. The frown on his face, however, remained steadfast.

"Ah, well, yes," Carl quickly recovered and continued on, speaking through the mustache that hid is mouth. "Didn't know you were awake. Captain's got some sort of new job lining up, wants us formed up to go over details."

"This early?" He responded exasperatedly.

It was a valid question. Too many crewmen would still be recovering from the night before, in ways that only the ones who flew the skies could think of. Crewmen had not the best record for being the right of mind, though much of that was usually over exaggerated by those who thought of the profession of something as wild and dangerous; in truth most of the time it was dull and lackluster. Only in brief flashes was it as it was romanticized, and most crewmen reveled in the attention telling of stories from grand battles they had partaken in. Why, one could even make a decent amount of coin, if not just complimentary drinks at inns that would fill when a good storyteller was weaving a tale. He suspected that half of those telling tales had never even been in battles themselves; the details were often glaringly wrong.

"Just passing the word." Carl shrugged with his entire upper body. "It's been a while we had something good come along, we've hardly been scraping by with these meager trade runs recently."

It was true. Many months had passed since the job in Firnfeld, hired to help drive out bandits harassing trade routes. It had been good pay, certainly, but he suspected the crew's funds were dipping rather low by now, and the occasional local cargo delivery had been barely enough to cover the cost of the trips. The crew was restless, he could tell that even the Captain was itching for something with more action. He had hoped she hadn't made some foolish rash decision to satiate her appetite for adventure, but she was level headed enough to think these things through. Usually.

He sighed, releasing his frown, and put his hands up dejectedly.

"Fine, fine, whatever. I'll finish up here," he said, pointing at his face, still lathered with now quickly drying shaving foam, "and I'll be down in a minute."

Carl nodded, then half-smirked.

"Don't forget a shirt." he said, then turned briskly, large feet storming the morning dust from the floorboards in his wake. He readied a quip to fire at Carl, but though better of it.

"A bad morning indeed." He muttered to himself, and pulled the door closed.

[BdrLineAzn]

Okay sorry for the length, by this has been on my mind for the past 8 hours. As I said in my first post, this is the flashback I wanted to expand on.

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~Present~

Anvala, Western District

After a day of testing with the new incendiary rounds that her brother has made at the Academy's gun range, Ny-Lee and Azn walks out of the main campus towards his docks at the Western District. With the rifle strapped over her shoulder, a thought has been on her mind since she first docked in Anvala. Next to her, Azn is carrying the crate with the rounds that they didn't fire. Lost in the depths of his mind, BdrLine compels whether or not to tinker with the mixture  or to change any aspect of the round

He mumbles to himself, "Hmm what if I add more Dragon Peppers, will the flames become bigger? Or the gunpowder, add more while I take away a fraction of the peppers? I may have to ask Yiski," to his sister, "What do you think Ny. ... Ny?"

Shaken from her thought, Ny-Lee looks to answer, "Huh what? Say again, I didn't hear."

Scrunching his eyebrows, BdrLine looks over his sister. She shrinks a little from his stare.

"You okay Ny?"

"Ye-yeah I'm fine, let's just get to your house."

Looking over at her one more time, he shrugs his shoulder as the pair enters the entrance to the docks.

Nearing his docks section as well to her current place of residence, the thought comes over her again. Curling her lips, she opens her mouth to speak.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, shoot," he say while not taking his eyes off the street."

"Well... Azn what did happen to you after your call from Ho Tower?"

Stopping in his tracks at the question, he stares off towards the setting sun as he wonder his mind back. Without looking, he walks towards a bench and sits while still digging brain. Following her brother, Ny-Lee takes a seat next to him.

"As you know it was two days after the whole Market Debacle that I arrived at He and radioed back home."

Listening, Ny-Lee nods as Azn continues.

"Basically after the call, I spent the next few months traveling under the same captain I met from when I escaped. We spent the majority of our time around the Wastes, going as far north to Hanat to Sanctuary in the south. During that time, I've spent expanding and mastering my engineering, and I was in no short supply of contraptions to work my hands on."

"It was simple and adventurous, but there is one particular event that I remember well. It started at Yunin where we met my old pen-pal from the Baronies. He and a few of his men were on leave from his military and wanted to travel around with us. During that time, we already got a job to transport goods to Nalm, so he tagged along as our scout. First leg from Yunin to Bajad went by smoothly, it was after that was different...

~Three Annums Ago~

Dunes en route to Nalm

The sun is high and nigh as the only sounds that BdrLine hears is the roar of the engines and the whistling of the wind. Lying on some crates down in the second deck of the Junker, he relaxes during the lull in his routine repair rounds. As he is about to drift into a nap, a nudge on his shoulder prompt him to open an eye. Standing over him is another deckhand, slightly older than him.

Groaning, "Agh, what is it Ren? Can't I have some rest."

"Sorry Bdr, but captain wants ya. Says your friend is on the radio."

Sitting up and getting off his makeshift bed, he follows Ren up the ramp leading back to the main deck. As they exit the holeand round the corner, BdrLine sees that the helm is manned by their third deckhand and their captain on the radio. Walking towards the radio, Zankief looks up as he hears the approaching footsteps.

"Yeah, he's here," he says to the receiver. Zankief then hands. over the headset to BdrLine.

BdrLine takes the headset and places it on his head. As he is about to speak, Zankief says to him, "Don't know why he only talks to you, I mean I am the captain of this ship. Something is wrong in your friends head Bdr, it feels like he doesn't trust me."

Smirking, BdrLine places a hand over the receiver and replies back, "Maybe it's because you said that you're from the Guild. Remember that conflict between them annums back."

"I said that I run a warehouse in the Guild. I don't even look like a native Guildsman, I'm from Boomtown for flak sakes."

Shrugging his shoulders, "Hey maybe he'll warm up to you, have another friend of sorts."

Zankief shakes his head as rolls his as he waves Bdr over.

Still smirking, BdrLine takes his hand off the receiver and talk to the Squid's captain.

"So Bertram what is it now?"

"Told you how many times, don't use my first name. Sounds too awkward and fancy. And wipe that smile I can feel it from here."

"Alright, alright" , he says chuckling, "So Melin, what do you need to tell me when you could have said Zankief. He's a good guy you know."

"I'm just a little weary of people from the Guild, even if there is a truce after the conflict. But just wanted to tell you so far we find nothing on radar  and maybe a hour, two tops, until we hit Nalm."

"Okay, I'll relay that to the others. Thank the Gods we have you guys on this run, your radar really helps out."

"Yeah, tell me again how the one on your ship got busted?"

"Oh umm hehe, a minor fire erupted from some misconnections."

"Really... I'll just update you if we get anything, Melin out."

"Hold on Melin, just tell Zankief. Don't have me asking to you all the time. Also he says he is from Boomtown, so drop that paranoia."

Sighing, "Alright Bdr, out."

As the radio goes silent, he places the headset back down on the radio. Facing back towards the main deck he spots Zankief holding a clipboard and inspecting the crates. He looks up from the board and sees that BdrLine is finish and motions him to come over.

"So, what's the message."

"Skies are clear and we should be at Nalm around two."

"Gonna be ahead of schedule I see, extra money for us then. Go and take the helm from Lupez, he needs a little break."

Groaning at the irony of the situation as he was suppose to be on break, BdrLine does as he is told and reliefs Lupez.

Soon an hour has pass and a small sandstorm hits the travellers. Wearing thicker clothing along with goggles and bandanas, the entire crew of the Junker race about tying down loose crates.

On the Squid the crew adorns similar clothing to combat the incoming sand. While Melin and two others of his crew work on keeping sand out of their engines, Frey, the fourth crewman and second in command of the ship hears and notices two blips on radar.

He shouts over the storm, "Melin, we have targets on radar."

On the platform fixing the top port engine, Melin barely hears Frey shouts. He motions to him by bringing a hand up to his ear and shaking his head. Dropping his tools and jumping off the platform to the helm, Melin leans in.

"What did you say?"

"Sir, we have two blips that came up on radar and coming towards our position fast."

"Keep tracking, I'll inform the Junker."

With a nod, Frey turns back to the radar as Melin turns his radio on, "Hey BdrLine, Captain Zankief, anyone. We just picked up two ships on radar, it looks like they are coming to our position. Might want to get some weapons ready if they are hostile."

Unfortunately for Melin no one on the Junker was near the radio and miss the message. He continues to relay until someone has picked up and acknowledges him. But as fast as the blips come on the radar, they disappear from view. With a confused look, Frey taps Melin on the shoulder who looks over while still relaying the message.

"Hello, anyone ther...what the?"

Through his headphones, Melin hears a voice comes through, "What the what Captain Melin."

"Ah Captain Zankief, finally someone answers."

"Sorry, just battering down the hatches. So what seems to be the problem."

"Well we did just had two blips show up on our radar."

"What do you mean by had."

Before Melin can answer his question reports can be heard from the sandstorm as shells explode around the two ships. Screeching into view are two Pyramidions intent to kill. The first Pyramidion charges towards the Junker with guns blazing as the pops of a light flak firing fills the area. The crew of the Junker hit the deck as shrapnel from when the rounds explode flies around them.

While the first Pyramidion attacks the Junker, the second tries to ram the Squid, but Melin manages to lift his ship up in time. As this Pyramidion overshoots underneath Melin, he quickly turns his ship around and flies over the enemy with a pass with the starboard flame thrower. Not doing a sufficient amount of damage, the crew of the Pyramidion quickly extinguish the flames and gives chase to the Squid into the depths of the sandstorm.

Back on board the Junker, Zankief drops the headset from the radio and rushes to the helm as he tries to manoeuvre out of the ram. Putting the engines into full speed, he watches as the enemy comes closer to his port side.

"Ah flak. EVERYONE BRACE FOR IMPACT!!"

With a thunderous crack, the beak of the Pyramidion connects with the midsection of the Junker knocking down any loose material as well as the ship and crew. Disoriented, BdrLine struggles to get up on his feet as he hears Zankief ordering Ren and Lupez to man the port side guns. As the enemy reverses after the ram, BdrLine sees people on the top scaffolding reloading their weapons.

"Bdr!", knocking out of his daze, he turns to Zankief shouting at him, "Get ready for repairs, they look like they mean business."

Looking back at the enemy and at Zankief, he can only give a slight nod as shaking hands goes over his tool belt.

"Good, go and try to salvage what hull we have on our mid-port, that ram did us good. Ren, Lupez, are the guns ready! We need to act now!"

Stumbling, he complies and rush to the damaged section. As Zankief manoeuvres forward to get out of the front guns of the Pyra, their guns open fire again, this time accompany with gatling fire. Taking cover in the hole, BdrLine covers his ears as the sounds of explosions and bullets hitting hull ring through his ears. As the firing dies down, he assumes they are reloading and pulls out a mallet to straighten out the dented metal sheets.

Soon their own ship returns fire with a gatling of their own along with a banshee. During the reload of the Pyramidion's guns, Zankief manages to get out of the front arcs and onto their port side. With his guns firing he can see holes tracing along the wooden deck of the enemy as well as small fires springing out from the banshee.

"Keep it up boys, don't let up. BdrLine how's our hull?"

Deeply breathing, he comes out from the hole and tries to answer back, "She's... Fine, we can... Take a few more... Hits."

"Whoa, calm down and keep your head straight, we can't lose you in this."

"Roger, Zankief", he says as he place a hand over his chest.

Another explosion hits the Junker as a hissing sound can be heard from the balloon. The crew looks up and see a few holes embedded in the fabric.

Zankief turns his head back to the Pyramidion and sees a carronade shooting at the balloon, "FLAK ALL OF THIS, Ren try and put some holes into that gunner. Bdr you need to climb up there and patch it up, if that goes, we all go. Got it?"

Going wide eyed, he looks at the balloon and to the ground, "Are you mad!? What if I lose my footing and fall."

"If you don't fix it we are all falling no matter what. Now get to it! Dont you crack Bdr, our lives depend on it!"

As the carronade continues to shred the balloon, Ren and Lupez fires at the deck prompting those to take cover. As the two provide covering fire, BdrLine grabs patches of cloth as well as a roll-tacker and climbs the rigging. Reaching the top, slinging an arm through one of the top ropes and starts to sew the covers over the holes. Completing one patch job, he shimmy to the next hole and to the next. As he reaches the last hole, a blinding light shines making him drop the roll-tacker onto the deck.

As Ren and Lupez suppress the enemy crew, one of them braves the fire and runs to the flare gun. Turning to have their crosshairs on the man, he fires the flare blinding those on the Junker. With this distraction, another man fires the carronade and start shooting at the balloon again, nearly hitting BdrLine in the process.

With the light fading away, hanging on to the rigging, BdrLine sees new holes in the fabric. Looking down at the deck he spots the roll-tacker as well as the nearing ground. Closing his eyes and breathing a deep breath, he unhooks his arm from the rigging and jumps to an adjacent room connecting to the hull.

Hitting the deck with a thud, he rolls around before getting on his feet to the roll-tacker. Grabbing new rolls of cloths, he starts to climb up the rigging again.

From the banshee, Lupez looks over the deck and sees the ground racing to meet them. "Cap, 500 meters until splat."

"Keep firing we can't lose this. Come one Bdr, you got this."

As the two ships continue to fire at one another, the Junker is still dropping out of the sky as the enemy keeps pace.

With the ground almost insight, Zankief notices something on the Pyramidion. "Lupez, Ren, concentrate everything at the boiler on the deck. This is out last shot."

Reloading their weapons a new volley of bullets and rockets starts to hit the enemy boiler. Seeing this, the enemy pilot tries to rise out of the incoming fire until a banshee rocket hits the main tank. With a explosion, it rips a hole on the starboard side of the Pyramidion as power drains out. With the power out, the engines and balloon pump slowly stops working. With the advantage, the two gunners fire without discrimination until the enemy turns into a hunk of metal on the desert floor.

With the skirmish over, BdrLine has time to patch the remaining holes. After the last one covered, he slowly slides down a rope back down to the deck. Once back on somewhat solid ground, he collapse and land on his rear as hands race through his hair. Deeply breathing, he doesn't feel Zankief walk up behind him and raise him up.

"You alright? Never been under fire huh. You did well today Bdr, saved the ship and our lives."

"What did I get myself into? I heard of stories of bandits and raiders from my mother's travels, I didn't expect myself to be in a battle between one!"

"Welcome to the current world we live in. What we have done the pass few months has been way too easy on you. You didn't expect us not to be attacked sooner or later during a contract."

"I don't think I can do this. If there is more of this to come, I may become worse than what I am during the battle. I may get the whole ship killed."

"Hey, you did fine today. And don't get that negative mambo jumbo in your head, keep thinking like that and you will be dead. Just stay calm and keep a clear mind and you will survive. Got that."

"Ye-yeah I guess so."

"No guess so, know so. Get that in your head Bdr. There will be more battle like these in the near future."

With a sigh, Zankief pats BdrLine on the back, "Just get some rest, I'll see if your friend is still there."

As he leaves BdrLine on the middle of the deck too think things over, Zankief returns to the radio and tries to contact Melin. As it turns out, Melin has taken care of his Pyramidion with ease thanks to the whole crew military training. Regrouping again, the ships continue on there journey to Nalm arriving half past two.

~Present~

Anvala, Western District

Still sitting on the same bench at the start of the story, the sky has turned to a light blue as the sun finally fades over the horizon.

"So once we arrived to Nalm, I turned to and say that I am going on my own way. He nods knowingly and hands me a piece of paper with a radio frequency saying that if I need anything just call. With a brief hug he hands me a good size pouch of coins as payment before he boards his Junker and I watch as he flies off with another contract."

"As I watch as the Junker flies away, Melin asks if I can travel with him for the duration of his leave. I decline saying that I will be find only my own. Same thing as I did with Zankief, I watch as he flies off away. Now on my own with both my friends going off in different directions, I do what I know what to do. For the next few weeks I find myself on different ships to different towns across the Burren offering my service."

"Soon I found myself here in Anvala during it's Spring Festival. It was pretty hectic as there were crowds of people from all over. Needless to say I found jobs repairing quite easily. The dock master of the time saw that I was handy with all the repairs and the business of the Festival and offered me a permanent spot here."

"So as you can see by me still being here, I accepted. Got the current dock section that I have now, along with a collection of workers and housing. After the learning experience of my first annum out of the Empire, the next two has been an interesting one. From meeting and crewing for Zill to finding the Saloon with Yiski and the others. And up to now, you know the rest."

During the whole story, Ny-Lee sits silently as she listen tentatively.

"Wow, I didn't know that you went through all that."

"Yeah, besides those who were with me, you are the only one who has heard of this story. I'm glad that I can let it all out, feels good you know," he ends with a chuckle.

"Heh, yeah." Ny-Lee looks up to the sky and notices the change. " Think we should be at your house now."

Looking up as well, BdrLine nods, "Yeah, come on, let's head back."

Standing up from their seats, BdrLine grabs the the crate again and leads them back to his place. Behind him, Ny-Lee eyes her brother with a little sense of respect.

[SakuraTenshi]

Not much to tell (see also: work in progress, really should brush up on the full lore), my namesake was born to the Arashi clan and developed a love for mechanical tinkering at a young age, learning to make the most of sparse materials. Once the airships really started going up, she went with them.

Unfortunately, the first ship of her service crashed and she suffered a spinal injury that has caused her reaction time to suffer (Incorporating my lag as part of my character) as well as her performance as, well, anything on a ship. She still remains a very capable engineer, when push comes to shove, she can also take the helm or man the guns, but she's cripplingly dependent on specialized equipment to do her jobs to help compensate for her injuries, and she can only keep one loadout at a time while the rest needs to be stowed.

These days she works for anyone who will pay her, moving from ship to ship for her wages. Despite her chronic pains, spotty records, and tendency to be a sole survivor, she retains a fairly cheery disposition off duty and is not the sort to drink strong alcohol (with sanitized water being scarce though, she can't afford to be pick).

On deck though and when asked to stick to her specialty, she's extremely bossy and prone to forgetting whose really in charge. True to historical airplane engineers, she seems to think any ship she's working on is hers and not the captain's and gets very irate at more reckless and self destructive maneuvers or stunts. (And especially flying into death clouds)

That's all I got and most was made up on the fly.

[RedRoach]

After coming back after a long while and not expecting anything new at the cantina, I saw this. Great job Sakura, and I like the thinking of including lag as a part of the character.

[SakuraTenshi]

thank you, it harkens a bit back to my City of Heroes RP days when I would incorporate odd things into my characters, even applying lore from other people to my own.

I really am excited for Adventure Mode when we can actually sit and chat in towns and such, or at least on ships. (you know, might be cool to have "RP" matches where there's more focus on character and self-made stories than the actual mission.

Anyway though, I'm not 100% to read on the lore, so I tried to keep my namesake vague.

[Piemanlives]

There isn't much solid lore besides the factions, we have a map somewhere and there are only a few notable people that we know of IE: Sir Issac Phillips. So lore wise you should be fine.

[Insanegorey]

In a water closet far, far away...

*flush*
"Ah. Haven't had a good poop like that in a while. Like a good, solid poop. Do crackers and corn have anything to do with that, ye think?"
A grumble from the short man who stands outside the water closet, with a distance between him and the toilets foul smell.
"Well, she's all yours now, Grum."
Another grumble, and the short man walked into the water closet. A groan of disgust came from the short mans lips as the door closed.
The small shack with the words "water closet" written on a small wooden sign stood out there in the desert, as these two men waited for their bowels to empty.
Then, a small dog started to run out of the whipping wind, towards the water closet.
"Grum?"
"What is it now, Louis?"
"There's a dog. Coming over here."
"And?"
"Well, Grum, I want you to take care of it for me."
"No."
"I'm sorry? No who?"
"No, sir."
"Figured."
Louis put his arms up and stretched. His long overcoat stretched down, and had rips in it left from his previous dogs. He always had a habit of taking a liking to dogs that bite, because he said that it meant they had moxy, or some other bollocks. The overcoat used to belong to an admiral, or someone who thought he was an admiral. You see, the previous owner was an absolute loony, who called himself "Admiral Mister" and would march around the streets drunk in this overcoat with it's carefully adorned buttons in gold, and it's dark blue cloth bringing the pins on the breast pocket out. But when the drunk admiral had it, the buttons were falling off, and the color turned into a dried out gray. The rips in the coat were smaller back then, thought Louis. How he missed his uncle.
The coat was in even more disrepair, with only one gold button hanging on, and a permanent smell of vomit and cheap liquor. What a lovely coat it was though, with its deep pockets and...
Actually this coat was awful, thought Louis.
Perhaps he needed to see a tailor...
*flush*
"Jesus, finally! I thought you had died in there!"
The door opened, and the short man looked up at Louis and scowled.
The short man walked away from the toilet, and Louis walked behind him.
Then, a scream tore through the air, and the short man fell down and clutched his leg in agony.
Louis calmly pulled out his revolver, another gift from his uncle, and briskly strolled towards where the shot came from. Another shot went out, hitting the short man again.
Then, two shapes appeared on the horizon and started to run.
Hah, you won't incapacitate another crew member of mine!
He pulled up his revolver, and pulled back the hammer.
Click.
Confused, then angry, Louis tilted the gun sideways, realizing that he forgot to buy bullets for the gun, seeing as they were dam expensive.
Ah well, what's good for the scavengers is good for society, he guessed.
He turned back around, and a ladder slowly descended.
"About god damned time, you filthy plebeian!"
The ladder remained there, and the short man slowly ascended the ladder.
"We are going to be late, but hey, that's our motto, right Grum?"
Another grumble.
"Well, hopefully this time I don't get bite by Charles dog."

[RedRoach]

I like this here post a lot. It's a short post, but Ulysses you've made me laugh quite a bit. Haven't seen many other stories that made me chuckle like this.

[RedRoach]

Had a thought since I created my original character about a friend for him, here is the story I made up about him.


In a bar in a small town, a young man is laughing away the night with several other, somewhat armed men all with grins on their faces.

RedRoach: "...and then, the bomb went off, but instead of fire, it was just water! The entire crew got doused in a combination of grease and water! Ha!"
Thug 1 "Ah, man, this is the best guy to pass through in a loong while. We should just make him pay less instead."
RedRoach "What? For my drinks and amazing jokes?"
Thug 2: "No, whenever people pass through here, they pay up. Consider it a mandatory pay toll."
RedRoach: "That's horseshit!"

Suddenly, every single one of the men surrounding him rises and draws their weapons, from a standard scrapped-up rifle to a rusty pistol, outnumbering RedRoach by 5.

Thug 1: "You got any last words to help 'improve' our services?"
RedRoach: "Well... make sure you watch out for the devil who follows me. You believe in the devil right?" *With cold stares a quick assumption is made.* "Okay then, I guess I should tell you then. I know someone who could kill you with a BB gun."

A ridiculous amount of laughter takes over the bar, and although many of the gunmen around the table waver their aim, there was never a point where no gun directly pointed at him, so escape during the hilarity wasn't an option.

Thug 3: "That's the best joke you've told so far. I've stayed here for several months, and nobody simply messes with the Greased Light Gang.
RedRoach: "That's the best joke YOU'VE told so far. I can't even believe someone comes up with those crappy gang names anymore."
Thug 2: "HEY!"
RedRoach: "Anyway, this guy is one of the deadliest things on the planet, I can't even tell you if there IS a deadlier thing on the planet. Besides Sandstorms. Flak those things."
Thug 3: "Get to the damn point!"

---------Several months back in a port city of which shall not be named for safety reasons--------

A young adult, strikingly similar to the one who would get into a bar scrap in the future, admires his handiwork of sprayed paint on a squid that isn't his.

RedRoach: "Man, this is going to be great! Compressed air and light amounts of liquid paint do wonders. The crew are gonna get sooooo pissed when they see this-"

Suddenly, while backing up from the airship, he bumps into a person and what feels like a snub nosed revolver.

??: "And who exactly will be 'pissed' when this vehicle is spotted?"

Quickly whirling around, Red notices that the person is oddly dressed to be a person here: White business suit, white bowler hat, red tie, rather flat, calm and non-sarcastic tone, a blank face, and a rather short barreled revolver.

RedRoach: "Um... the owner of the squid...?"
??:  "And who exactly is the owner of the squid?"
RedRoach: "...flak."
??: "Excuse me?"
RedRoach: "It's you isn't it... you're the owner right?"
??: "I would happen to be so. And you are indeed correct that I am 'pissed'."
RedRoach: "Wait, give me just 5 minutes, I can clean this up, alright Mr. Business man?"
??: *more menancing tone* "If I didn't have something that a bullet would be needed for more than you, you'd be in the ground now. You have until I return. Try to escape and your death will be prolonged."
RedRoach: *Exaggerated bow* "Yes good sir." *a long, motionless and reaction-less pause* "Oooooor you could leave right now...." *Cotinuation of pause* "Fine, I'll start on it."

As RedRoach quit acting retarded and walked back towards the "decorated" ship, he quickly shoved a hand into his pocket and pointed the thing inside of it towards the man and pulled a trigger. The man holstered his weapon, turned a corner and walked away. A muttered word, and Red went back to making himself NOT on the man's hit list.

*Proceed 5 minute montage of a rag and a bottle of water somewhat cleaning up a squid"

After everything was no longer painted pink, purple and several hues of green, the scavenger turned hostage engineer backed off. The ship finally looked like a normal, turd-brown squid. He slipped out a small red piece of glass from his pocket, and held it up to his eye. True to pre-dust descriptions, he saw marks on the ground exactly where the man was once threatening him from, and marks where he went. Jumping off the docks and into the stone path, he raced after the man to see where he had gone. The scavenger had made it to a small warehouse a reasonable distance from anywhere a humane person would live. Putting away the glass, he listened for any sign of the stranger with a fashion sense.

Pirate 1: "You said you already delivered the weapons. You are the worst liar I have seen."
?? : "I want to see the price, before I complete the trade."
Pirate 1: "And I flakkin' said, that I wanna see those damned weapons!"
Pirate 2: "There's someone trying to be a real sneaky dumbass here. I think I know who it is."
Pirate 1: "Oh really? Bring him in."

Out of the blue, 3 men with unusually heavy rifles for the working class ambushed RedRoach, and shoved him straight through the front door, catching everyone's attention, including Mr. Business Man.

RedRoach: *in foriegn accent* "Hello? Housekeeping? I finished cleaning ship, may I have leave?"
Pirate 3: *Ignoring idiot* "This guy is probably working with him, just in case he even needed another body shield."
?? : "I have no recollection of this person, and I do not care if you execute him. I require the price."
Pirate 1: "Don't pull some stupid shit on me! I AM THE LEADER OF A FLEET WHO COULD BURN YOUR SKIMPY SQUID TO THE GROUND!!!!"
?? : "Good thing then that I am not on a squid."

Suddenly, the well-dressed man whips out his revolver, and begins firing it into the warehouse and at the pirates, quickly dropping them. Taking advantage of the situation, Red pulls out a heavy pistol/revolver one-of-a-kind hybrid and fires it through both of his captor's heads, rolling between the 3rd and final man legs and eliminating him, before sheathing his revolver again. Quickly scooting from box to box towards the one man army vs. army gunfight, he manages to get to the white-clothed man as he takes cover.

RedRoach : "Quick, how many are left?"
?? : "I do not remember requesting your interruption!"
RedRoach : "I'm here now aren't I? I took out three, how many are left?"
?? : "There is only two left hiding in the far back." *pops out of cover to take 3 more shots and down another man* "Now there is only one."
RedRoach : "Whaat? He said he had a fleet, a fleet can't be just 2 ships piloted by 6 damn people!
?? : "He did. There used to be 16 men in the warehouse."
RedRoach : *in half-sarcastic, half-earnest awe* "Sooo... I'm going to assume from the gunplay that you are clearly infering to me that you're an assassin?"
?? : "My target is at a distance, and the range will simply make things last longer."

Thinking for a while on which side to take, the scavenger decides to take the side of the business assassin since, well... he's a flakking assassin dammit, and grabs one of the rifles lying on the ground. Taking memories from older battles and modification mishaps and victories in account, he quickly slides out the barrel and replaces it with a longer than normal weapon, a new scope, a muzzle for more accurate rifles, and snaps it into a semi-automatic mode. Chambering the rifle, he slides it to the whitey gunman, who merely glances at it.

?? : "I do not need to use a sloppy automatic rifle in order to take out my target."
RedRoach: "HEY! First off, there's such a thing as 'Regulating your fire in bursts', so don't give me that sloppy auto crap. Second off, it's a modified, hi-power semi-automatic sniper rifle with a 6x scope capable to hitting a target at 700m. Happy douchebag? That 'Clean' enough for you?"

The assassin reluctantly picks up the rifle, and (because Red did not show that he chambered the rifle like an IDIOT) chambers another round, wasting one and leaving a nasty glare pointed at RedRoach's direction. Lifting the rifle and leaving cover, he sights in the area where the final pirate is hiding, and just as the man gets up for a shot, he falls with a smooth headshot through his fore-head. The assassin carries the rifle towards the dead body, followed somewhat reluctantly by the scavenger until he reaches his "target". Almost with no sentiment to a heavily modifed rifle, he tosses it to the ground and crouches next to the dead pirate.

RedRoach: "Soooo.... I helped you?"
?? : *whips out revolver in RedRoach's direction, while still inspecting body* "Try anything and you're dead.'
RedRoach: "Whaaat? This is what I get? Man, I should be less charitable to people who kill people next time."
??: *Takes a small key from the dead pirate's pocket* "Do not forget, you interrupted my work, as well as ruined my ship."
RedRoach: "Heeeeyy, you were planning to kill him anyway, right? The ship's even clean now, and for flak's sake I made you a damn sniper rifle!"
??: *Rises and turns towards Red* "I didn't need the sniper rifle."
RedRoach: "But you used it! So therefore, it was still an ASSET! Come on, please tell me you understand business terms, right?"

An uncomfortable silence passes. Then, the man holsters his revolver.

??: "Your ability to modify a weapon is impressive for an idiot."
RedRoach: "Hey, trust me, being an idiot is why everything I do is impressive. One more thing though. You're an assassin, right?" *another uncomfortable silence, another quick conclusion* "If I require your... services, can I request for you?"
?? : *For the first time, a sign of emotion slides across his face. It is one of sarcasm.* "What could an idiot like you pay me for?"
RedRoach: "A customer is a customer dammit!" *More silence, more conclusions.* "If I have to call you, you need a name. Is there something people you? Something that I can call you?"
?? : *a pause.* "Some people call me a devil. Some people call me a maniac, others a man-killer who is unstoppable."
RedRoach: *yawn* "NOT HELPING. Lots of people call others that. What do you call yourself?"
?? : "I call myself clean. An assassin can not afford to be sloppy."
RedRoach: "Perfect! I'll just call you 'Clean' and that'll be your alias from now on! Deal? Deal!"
'Clean' : "How do you even-"

Before the newly dubbed Mr. 'Clean' can respond, the scavenger has rushed out of the doors and into the reasonably dark city as the sun begins to rise. He shakes his head, and begins to leave. As he exits through the door, his attention is caught by something on the door. A piece of parchment, with writing on it.

---------Back to the Future...----------

RedRoach: "...and that is how Clean and I became great friends!"
Thug 1: "That's not a real story."
RedRoach: "Hey! Mr. Clean IS REAL! And fine, we're not friends, but he's still deadly!"
Thug 3: "You're a liar. No man could do that, even if it is a real gun. And a BB gun can't kill a person, only sting one!"
?? : "That's what you think."

Suddenly, the door to the bar opens, and a man in a white suit, red tie, white bowler hat walks calmly inside, carrying a BB gun.

RedRoach: "There he is! Hey, Clean, this group of individuals didn't believe you were real!"
Thug 2 "Flak! Quick, cover! Put the gun to his head, put the gun to his head!"
RedRoach: *shoved down at gun point* "Hey- Ow- Don't do that- Dammit not  the jacket- ow"
Clean : "Now who exactly ordered the BB gun?"
Thug 3 *steps forward with pistol drawn* "That would be me. And there is no way in damn hell you can get through my bullet-proof vest made for a 9mm gun, not some tiny air-pumped-"

'Clean' lifts his rifle and fires it directly at the person's head, in a very particular place. The eye. The man screams and falls down to the ground, and lifts his head to get a shot at the white-cloth assassin just in time to get another pellet in another eye. Blinded and in pain, the man crumples to the ground. Slowly walking to the man, 'Clean' takes his rifle and clubs the butt of the BB straight into his skull. The surrounding gun-men back off, while everyone else who has absolutely no clue what the hell has been going on the entire time quickly file out the door.

Clean : "Death has been delievered."
Thug 2: "We will shoot him! WE WILL! You just- just back off now..."
Clean : "If he did tell you the story, then clearly you now he's already managed to figure out how to be free."
Thug 2: "What do you-"
RedRoach: "BANG BANG BITCH!"

Near instantly, RedRoach pulls out the same heavy pistol/revolver hybrid and empties out a round directly into his captor's face, and swivels behind Clean, aiming his weapon at the three remaining thugs, who are quite literally shaking in their boots.

Thug 1: "Get back! We've got more firepower and more people on our side!"
Clean : *calmly pulling out his revolver* "You have until the count of 5 to live to see another day."
RedRoach: *laughs* "Why the hell should I bother, I don't even have to waste some rounds on all of you."

As Red holsters his weapon, he looks around for the drink he had before the shootout. At the table, he finds a cup of water (H2O is important kids, even in a dusty world) and lifts it to his lips. The sound of his acquaintance counting down doesn't even register, and surprisingly, nor do the three quick shots from his revolver, and the noise of bodies hitting the ground. As he places down his cup, he turns around to his assassin saviour.

Clean : "Your beacon idea actually worked. I got the ping from the device you left on the squid.
RedRoach: "Yeah, DUH. Most of the things I make work. If they don't, well.. they go boom boom, but nobody ever notices stuff like that under a table. Like gum!"
Clean : "Where is the reward you promised?"
RedRoach: "Yeah, yeah, wait a second..." *pulls out a small sack of coins, probably worth about as much as one magazine for a pistol.*
Clean : *Unsatisfied pause & glare* "This is not worth coming here."
RedRoach: "No, that's the price for your services. Your reward for helping me is this." *slides out a piece of paper that is slightly singed, and has stains of unknown origin on it* "I heard you wanted some ways into that Chaladonian manor, so I went dumpster diving."
Clean : *analyzing page* "You believe they will not expect that method of entry?"
RedRoach: "Oh come on, who the hell would suspect a fountain while it's STILL spouting water? And besides, the target takes long walks right past that thing about 6 times, but around 3 of those passes on average aren't with guards!"
Clean : *slides page in suit sleeve* "This will come of some use."
RedRoach: "See? It's an asset. Which means, I'm one damn useful idiot."

Another, rare expression flickers across the assassin's face, one of laughter, but only in the form of a smirk that lasts shorter than a spire without guns. The man takes the paper and slides it into his sleeve, and turns out the door, leaving the scavenger and the pile of bodies in the now deserted bar. A long uncomfortable moment passes. Suddenly, the barkeep pops out from under the bar, while RedRoach was still standing near the bodies.

Barkeep : "Everyone okay?"
RedRoach: "Ah! GOD DAMMIT MAN DON'T DO THIS TO ME!"

[Jamini]

The tall, swathy woman stared at the man who had approached her. Long of limb and limber, she possessed a wiry grace that seemed out of place in the revelry of the catina. Her expression was masked behind a pair of tinted aviator's glasses, and her clothing was of simple cut, with no trailing strings or frills that would get caught in an engine or gun mechanism. Slung across her hip was a thick toolbelt, half a dozen tools within easy reach of her hands. Even her hair was neat and orderly, contained within an unadored hairclasp.

Her hands moved as she spoke, indicating a tall, slender man in Arashi dress with a vivid pink mowhawk who was tipping back a second glass of hellfire at the bar.

"That's me gunner, he is. Our last name was Thane, but when had to change it when we moved to Albys. Half our crews don't know this. Go blabbing and it'll be a short trip down a long drop for yah."

Her accent was thick, Welsh, a syntax that had long ago been lost except in the depths of the Baronies. Her limber frame was tense as she stared the stranger down. She looked ready to launch to her feet and throttle the man, or scale the nearby ladder and leap from the catina. Between her hands her drink had hardly been touched. As she spoke, she moved her hands, giving motion to the words.

"It's me story you want? Lord, there isn't anything real interesting about us. The lot of us come from the baronies, we do. Bunch of peasents who got sick of the lords and ladies and their airs. Grabbed an uncrewed goldfish, we did, and made for the south border all quicklike. It wasn't easy or safe for any of us. I had to jury-rig her engines more times than I care to count, and Ika drew a bead on at least half a dozen ships that were after us in the end. We was lucky, and smart, half of them didn't think to look down low, and 'Werty weaved us through the craigs and clefts like he was born to fly. Only one of 'em got a good spot before we popped their balloon and legged it as fast as we could."

A flash of teeth, a rare pearly white visible underneath her darkened complexion. The teeth of a woman who rarely drank, who took quite seriously her position. It was the wistful, happy smile of memories long savored.

"When I got 'ere the ship was a mess, and we was all tired as hell. We had to the authorities, we did. False names, no ID. All three of us spent a good week in the slammer while the Guild tried to work out who the hell had landed on their doorstop. The captains who chased us managed to catch up and told the half of our story we left out. It shocked them as much as it it did me when they turned around and told us we could fly out in the morning under guild colors. I guess the officials liked hearing about us giving the gaudy nobles slip after slip, they offered me a contract for a merc company the next day. Snubbing their nose at the Baronies over some trade deal gone sour, no doubt."

She tilted her head down, obviously trying to read the man's face. Her eyes were brown, with just the barest hint of a hazelnut green threading her iris. Her every sense seemed focused on reading the reaction of the man before her. At her side a second tall, willowy female trader clapsed her shoulder. The second woman's face was obscured by a bird mask, which scanned the crowd constantly while her commander spoke with the client. The bird-woman's head only paused once, when a second pilot crossed the room and clapped Ika on the back. A pair of loud shots momentarily drowned out the hubbub in the room as the Gunner grabbed his companion by the shoulder, sat him down, and let loose a roaring laugh.

"So now I'm here, and me company has grown from one ship to four. We reeled in the 'Bloody End' and captain Tallios from a brawl in a place like this, and Miss Vera seized her junker 'In the Trunk' on our third job after we downed it and sent the crew packing. Just recently I even bought myself a nice little guild ship of my own, 'Depth Changes' is a good platform to look out and spot those nasty little pirate pyras when they come in to tackle our clients. She blends in nicely with the mercent ships, and most raiders don't expect her to launch a barrage of missiles or start spewing flames from her lower guns. Of course, part of the trick is not getting tackled myself, but so far Werty's fish has been there when I needed it. 'Waiting for captain' is a doll when it comes down to a proper air brawl, and I ain't afeard to slam another ship if they look at me funny."

The woman grinned, leaning forward on her chair and setting her shoulders as she extended her hand.

"I aint gonna lie to you. If you want us on, I'm gonna make you pull weight too. We're mercs and guards out in the wastes. We 'ave no backup, and each man's fuckup is his own. If you can't man up for your own mistakes, you've got no place on my crew. If you can't man up for the mistakes of your crew, you've got no place in my company. If you can't man up for the mistakes of your fleet, I'll have no business with you."

"Now that that's settled, let's talk about compensation. Name's Jami, and we'll get you to your next port safe."

[Alastor Snow]

"Are you the group known as Will o’ the Wisp?" A man in standard Port City military uniform asked. 
Alastor looked around the enormous building he was at the foot of.  It certainly looked impressive with its large archways and expansive hallways.  His pure white hair was naturally spiked but it seemed ever so slightly slicked back.  This seemingly white color scheme continued to his coat and undershirt.  Finally giving notice to the military personal, Alastor nodded.  His cold icy blue eyes never truly focused on the man. 
The man led Alastor with two of his crew further down the hallways.  One being a woman called Spider, she is Alastor’s first mate and pilot.  The second is a kid gunner named Rat, they had picked up only recently.  The kid always seems nervous when he is in Alastor's presence.  Something about Alastor appeared to give him the wrong feeling.
Following the military man into a large room that is clearly meant for nobility, an imposing chair which held a wealthy nobleman, sits in the far end of the room.
 "So you are the group known as Will o’ the Wisp, I assume you have the money on your for this exchange?" asked the noble.  Alastor nods and looks over at Spider.  Spider opens the briefcase she was carrying and displays the vast amount of cash they have on them.  The nobleman gleams in happiness.  "So to clarify, you called for me to make a business trade of one of my very own high end Galleon ships?   Well I do not see much of a problem."  Said the noble with a wicked grin.  "Only, since you came all this way unarmed to bring this money to me.   I don’t see a reason why I should GIVE you the Galleon when I can just take your money." 
All the armed guards in the room aim their rifles at Alastor and his crew.  Rat started to panic.  Alastor and Spider didn't even seem to notice the barrel of the guns pointed at them.  Alastor slowly pulled out a pen and document; with a few scribbles he put it away.
"It does not seem you were informed about who I am." Alastor told the noble with a hint of disinterest in his tone.
"Explain," demanded the noble.
"I did not come here because I personally wanted a Galleon, nor had the money to spend; I came here because I was hired to do so.  You don't appear to have heard the rumors surrounding you, Sir.  The rumors being that you cheat deals.  This had made certain other nobles you have trades with a little...skeptical."  The nobleman looked a little concerned but let Alastor continue talking.  "I was hired to make a business deal with you on behalf of a certain lord in the Yesha Empire.  I'm sure you know of whom I am talking about.  What I just wrote down is a document concerning how this deal went, after I turn this into him he will cancel all trade routes and business deals with you."
A look of dread came over the nobleman.  How could his informants have let this slip by?  He needed these trade routes and to be cheated like this now of all times.  It left him in a state of panic and frustration.
"If you'll excuse me, Sir," Alastor said while turning away from nobility.
"Wait! Surely there must be a way to, you know, make this all go away."  Alastor glanced behind him and pretended to think.
"Sir, give us the Galleon...free of charge."
"What!? Why?"
"So that I may tell my employer that the deal went well, you got your pay and he got his much needed ship.  I plan on pocketing all this money as the bribery." 
The nobleman sunk back in his chair in disbelief. Is he just going to give away such an expensive ship?  He had to. He couldn't risk these trade routes to end.
"Fine! Agreed, take the ship, just…leave."
Alastor nodded.
"Make sure all the paperwork is legalized and have it ready within twelve hours please."  The nobleman didn't respond except for a slight nod. His face buried in his hands.  Alastor and his crew never said a word until after they were outside and heading toward their ship.  Rat was the first to speak up.
"When were we hired by a Lord?"
Alastor got aboard their run down squid and just replied with: "We weren't."

[RedRoach]

Well done with the stories. Alastor, nice touch with painting the scenery. I'm particularily found of how you kept that secret hidden until the end of the story, great job. Jamini, sorry about not poking my head in here about a month ago, but I'm thinking the the narration was beautiful.

[BdrLineAzn]

Still nothing on The Skies have no Limit, but I will make a character post of some sort to bring writings back to life. As for others who are into writing and RPing, feel free to whip up some good narrations or short stories. It's good to have new readings.

[Jester Schulz]

Ok. Brand new to this but I'm going to try my best.

Looking out onto the barren desert, a medium sized man in a dirty old duster stands. The wind rushes through the air and rustles the feather stuck in his prized military captain hat. This hat was almost as dirty and as old as the duster. It has been with him since the day he took it from the dead corpse of an enemy captain in his first win in battle. Those were the days of sailing under an old man they called Armored Jack.

Armored Jack was an old war horse who served as the captain of a scouting airship. Back then he flew for the Fjord Baronies. He was a celebrated captain who had the piloting skills that allowed him to best ships much larger than his. He became the Commander of the oldest scouting legion and was hailed as a hero. That is, until his ship was sabotaged by the heir to a wealthy family who wanted nothing more than to takes Jack's place as Commander. His ship's engines blew up halfway through a scouting mission in the area of Firnfeld and crashed into the harsh snow covered ground. A airship ambush soon occurred and the rest of the scouting airships were left hopeless without their Commander. The battle ended with all 10 ships destroyed minus one, the ship that carried the heir. The heir would spin a tail of how Jack left them and they were left to battle without him. Jack was cut from Baronies' history and the heir became Commander. Jack awoke to the sound of burning wood and a sharp pain in his left arm. His arm was cut clean off and the cold would stop the bleeding. He had been the only survivor of the crash. He would wander the barren snow for hours until he found a small little village. The villagers nursed him to health and he would continue on his way. He had heard that he was stripped of rank and all recognition by the Baronies so he had no choice but to leave his home. He rode from tradeship to tradeship looking for work and a place to stay. He eventually made it to the vast Burren. He sought refuge in a small town towards the edge of the Burren. He worked as a one armed blacksmith assistant. He worked his strength back up and left. He came across a small cave while searching for safety from a sandstorm. There he found a crazed man with a beaked doctors mask. The man cocked his head at Jack and said, "I can fix that." He swiftly moved towards him and pointed at his nub of a left arm. Jack only shook his head at the man. The man reached into his bag and pulled out a copper contraption that looked fairly old and yet nothing like Jack has ever seen. "They call me the Tinkerer. I search for unique old world technologies and then give them to those I see fit to yield them." Jack looked puzzled at the Tinkerer. The Tinkerer flipped a switch and the contraption sprung to life. Jack gazed upon it and could only think of one thing it could be used for. "Yes it is what you think it is. Its an arm." How did he know what I thinking, Jack thought to himself. "I want you to have this," said the Tinkerer. He attached inserted a needle into Jack's spine and then strapped the arm to Jack's body. Within a few days, Jack learned to control the arm and then the two parted ways. Jack made his way to a trading town where he met up with a convoy heading out into the Burrens. Jack ordered to be dropped off near Paritus. The captain denied him but Jack "persuaded" him to do it. In Paritus, Jack ventured into the Labyrinth. There he would stay for months building his own airship to set sail back into the skies. Luckily he found the remains of a crashed Yesha scouting vessel. He fixed the ship and took to the skies again in what he called the Hyena. He traveled from city to city and amassed a strong crew. Jack did what he did best, fight. He raided pirate airships and faction airships alike. He also sold his services to nations who were willing to pay a pretty penny to raid faction caravans. The mechanical copper arm became a symbol of fear and Jack became an infamous mercenary and outlaw. Jack's reign would last for years. Jack would soon grow old and weaker than he was. He needed to find someone to take his place. The biggest question was, who would be the person to take the place of Armored Jack?

Jack had found the boy while raiding a small, unnamed village in the rocky hills. He took the boy as his protege, for it was the dying wish of the boys mother to spare him. Jack accepted her plea before putting a bullet in her head. The boy watched as his village burned to the ground and his mother's body turn to ash in front of him. He did not shed one tear for his village or his mom. From that day forward he would live the life of an outlaw and a mercenary.

The ship was an old scouting warship called the Hyena. It boasted armor and speed but lack heavy amounts of firepower. The ship ran like a welled oiled machine and Armored Jack was ruthless. He punish any man who would dare question him or take even a second longer to complete a task. His favorite thing to do was to dangle a man from the bow of the ship and raise and lower the altitude. The boy was never punished though. In fact the boy grinned at the sight of other getting punished. Jack saw something within the boy. Something that would later come to haunt him.

As the boy grew older, Jack started to teach him the basics of piloting and running a ship. Being that Jack was an old sailor he knew tricks that had not been used in decades. Maneuvers such as the Sacred Octopus and the Hollowed Willow were some of his favorites. Jack taught him how to use the ships lack of firepower to his advantage.

"Let the speed of the ship surprise your enemies and then attack their weak spots." That was Jack's most common saying to the boy.

The boy wanted more and Jack took notice of that. One day Jack tossed the boy an old cutlass and yelled, "Defend yourself!" After that a fury of blows came towards the boy. Much to Jack's surprise, the boy blocked every blow with cat like reflexes. The boy had a talent that could not be bested. Next, Jack tossed the boy an old revolver. He also managed to out shoot everyone on the ship on his first try. "By my old mechanized arm!" Jack yelled out along with an old, deep laugh. He then muttered to himself, "I think it's about time."

The next day, the boy awoke to the roar of the flak cannons. Jack went below deck and yelled, "All hands to battle stations!" The boy jumped up, put on his jackboots, put o his sword and gun and took to the deck. What he saw amazed him. Splinters of wood flying through the air, the smell of gunpowder, the fine spray of blood, and the screams of the enemy and his shipmates. The boy could see no distinguishable marking on the ship nor and colors of an empire. They were air pirates just like them. Jack grabbed his arm and pulled him to the helm. "Grab the damn wheel!" He spat at him. He did so and fought to position the Hyena behind the enemy ship. He could feel the bullets whiz past him and could feel concussion of the flaks and mortars. The wood splintered and the copper cracked. Bodies were torn to shreds and fries broke out. The boy hard to maneuver the ship around to the back or they will go up in smoke.

The Hyena got to the tail and then let out a barrage of Gatling gun fire, tearing the enemy engine to shreds. The enemy was left stranded and then the boy yelled, "Ready the harpoon!" The harpoon rocketed toward the enemy ship and burst through the hull. The winches screamed as the ship was pulled close. The screams of the men followed soon after. The boy stepped down to the main deck, grabbed a rob and swung across. The men followed suite. The clanging of steel and the pounding of gunshot was deafening. The boy fought his way to the enemy helm and saw his prize. The enemy captain lunged at him trying to gut him. The boy parried and struck back. The captain did the same. In return however, the boy countered and pulled the captain in. He then shouldered him and knocked him off balance. The boy followed up and gained the upper hand. He called the shots and a barrage of attacks were unleashed. The captain couldn't keep up and this cost him his hand. The captain screamed, "I surrender!" This was not enough for the boy. He couldn't stop there. He drove his sword into his chest. The sucking noise that followed made him shudder with excitement. When he felt the body slump, he pulled the sword out of its crimson sheath. The grin he had on his face was almost as horrifying as the fate of the captain. Jack looked up and saw this grin and he knew right then what he saw years ago. He saw a thirst for battle and power.

From the head of the captain, the boy swooped a dark, feather boasting hat. A old naval hat worn by captains. He saw that it was fit for him to take it since he was the one who finished him off. The ship was stripped of any goods and was blown out of the sky. The hat taken that day would be a reminder of his first drop of blood in his river of crimson that would be his life. This is just the beginning of the story of the man who would be called the Grinning Jester of Crimson. This man is Jester Schulz.

[RedRoach]

*stunned silence*

Not bad. Not bad at all.

Don't worry if it's your first time here, not many of us can spin a tale quite like you.

I hope to see you in the skies... Grinning Jester of Crimson.