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Dave ST

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Dave ST last won the day on May 19 2014

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About Dave ST

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  • Birthday 02/09/1977

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    Paris, Tennessee

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  1. "Yesterday, Legs. Tonight? Corps." Ahh, Emerald City. Jewel of the West Coast. A place where peace and prosperity are allowed to reign for only a 30% protection fee from your business's overall gross. This evening we find the ladies of Claremont Academy sans their usual male counterparts. A girl's night out one could call it... after they've all made the mistake of agreeing to work out with the young martial artist, Qi. A decision they are all swiftly coming to regret... Qi stood in the traditional 'air chair' position. A broom handle lay across her lap horizontally while a second lay across her arms lay another broom handle, and upon this one were two silver, unmarked paint cans, filled with water. She showed only a moderate sign of fatigue... after seven minutes. Her breathing was simple and controlled, her eyes open and gazing off into the opposite side of the room as if she saw something there that no one else did. The other ladies were trying the same thing (minus the paint cans) with various levels of success... "Okay," Keiko said calmly, lifting up slightly and the handle rolled off her lap. "I see why you would do this, but seriously... why would you do this? It's torture heaped upon misery with a slice of torment on the side." "Maybe if you quit complaining long enough..." Tatyana replied to her Asian 'friend' in her typical dry, attitude laced voice. It wasn't her sort of workout, she was more the heat up the punching bag kind of girl, but the monk had some really hurtful training techniques... and if it hurt, it must work, right? Keiko offered her a stuck out tongue as she blindly searched for her fallen broom handle. Spellstone levitated the broom handle up into Keiko's hands. While she was certainly not going for a full seven minutes, she was familiar with the exercise, as her people, some 12,000 years ago to teach the strength and discipline necessary to focus sorcery. She moved past Tatyana and Keiko and reached for her water bottle as she dabbed away some of the sweat on her forehead with the towel around her neck. "Are yu not going to participate?" She asked Cosima, who was dressed for a work out but had yet to actually do anything except take a bunch of selfies of herself in her workout outfit. "Probably not," she was half paying attention to herself and half to addressing Spellstone as she clicked off another selfie. "With the guys gone, we should totally do something other than work out all night... and we all know if we don't act soon, getting Qi out of the gym will require not only your magic, but Bastion's strength. I hate to say it, but I think she's an addict, maybe we should have an intervention... with... maybe... chicken alfredo and a scary movie or two? Oh, the mall! We should totally mall. After I shower, of course, I'm all sticky and gross." Her friends all rolled their eyes, even Qi managed a small break in her meditations to smirk at the corner of her mouth.
  2. "Late Night Shivers" Three men. Three heroes. Free of their studies and currently without their female companions we discover the males of Claremont left to their own devices. Free of the shackles of math and history we find our young heroes delving deep into teenage vision quests of self discovery and their never ending search for their identity. Free to be the died in the wool, diamond in the rough, hardcore mature intellectuals they are... free to be... men. Sebastian dribbled from the left, then to the right, dipping the basket between his legs as he faked out Richard and spun around him, leaping for a jump shot. The ball bounced off the rim where Richard got the rebound and dipped into the basket for an easy two points. "Nice," he breathlessly said offering him five as Richard walked to carry the ball out. "So, my money is on, like, Tibetan or something." "No... I'd say Japanese." Richard dribbled past, faking out his opponent in a few strides before leaping for a lay up, that was denied by Sebastian's large hand. "See, I considered that, but she doesn't look Japanese." The massive teen gripped the ball in both his hands. Richard tried to slap the ball out of his hands but it didn't move at all, a prisoner of Sebastian's super powerful grip. "Really, dude?" Richard just smiled and shrugged, on the off chance that one day that might work. "Have either of you two considered Malaysian?" Curtis asked. Sebastian took a shot and missed again, the ball bounced off court where Curtis scooped it up. "Hotasian, maybe." Sebastian quipped. "C'mon, Curt, toss it in. We are engaged in a battle of finesse here..." "He doesn't know where Malaysia is." Offered Richard, half laughing as he thumbed towards his larger friend. "Of that," Curtis looked to the basket and tossed the ball. Without any resistance the ball dropped through the hoop, nothing but net. "I've certainly no doubt. And it's a game of math, Sebastian. Finesse only gets you so far, as your zero to twelve game will attest." "Basket ball's not my sport, okay?" He defended himself. "And I happen to know where a ton of malls in Asia are. Japan is like, filled with em. So, BOOM." "It's amazing how much of a walking stereotype you are," Curtis offered to the large super teen. "How did I end up agreeing to this?" "C'mon, Curtis, you can't barricade yourself in your room all the time." Richard walked over to him, picking up his Powerade and throwing one to Sebastian. "We figured, since the ladies were doing their thing, we'd, y'know, do ours. Hang out, shoot some hoops-" "...guess where Spellstone is from, Cosima's bra size, and whether or not Tatyana wears underwear..." Curtis interjected. Richard and Sebastian just paused and looked to each other and shrugged. "Well, yeah." "Such stimulating banter, allow me to go back to my room so that I might find a container for my joy..." "Dude," Sebastian mantled Curtis with a bicep as large as Curtis's head. "We go to school with some of the hottest ladies on the planet... you mean to tell me you haven't noticed a single one of them?"
  3. Roll call. I know it's been a minute, but I'm trying to get this going again now that I've finished the story boards and remade all the NPCs I lost in the HD crash. Lemme know who's still interested.
  4. Dread Delgath should read Endurance, Might, Sword.
  5. "Us, hurt you!?" The rabbit proclaimed, his arms outstretched wide. "Lady, you're the one throwing books and hitting poor Seth in the face, and screaming and yelling, and carrying on like a maniac! What is wrong with you? How could you do that to poor Seth, I mean look at this mug?" In a single leap the rabbit hopped from the floor to a display table and off of it spanning a great distance to land on Seth's shoulder, and slowly arc his hand down in front of Seth's face, like Vanna White drawing attention to a turned letter. Seth smiled a crooked smile, his tusks fully exposed as his lips parted to reveal a grin and giant as his physique. "I mean, honestly, you people are so uppity. Lady, you're not even awake! Where were you planning on going?" The rabbit motioned with his arm, directing her vision to where Maya was resting, her head resting comfortably on her arm. The book she was reading had fallen over, masking her face from soft reading lights glowing overhead. "Dreaming." Seth said softly. His monstrous features seemed misplaced as an expression of compassion washed over his features as he gazed upon the sleeping Maya. "The Darkness. We can't come to your world." "D-dreaming?" Maya stammered, still scared out of her mind. "Something like that," the rabbit said. He hopped down from Seth's shoulders and approached her, his hands up like he meant no harm. "I mean, we're not invading your steamy Tom Hiddleston fantasies, or nothing. I dunno what it is about that guy that drives you women nuts... but last week, you and him in Spain... ugh, nice choice. Very romantic sunset." "Help." Seth nudged the rabbit. "Right... right, as to why we're here. Something big is about to happen in your world, lady. Something real big, and it affects us too. Problem is, we can't do anything about it, so we need you and others like you to do all the leg work for us... if you don't... well, one day... there just won't be any dreams left to dream."
  6. "Well," Mr. Mourne smiled. "That's not the worst pick line I've heard, but certainly up there on the strange meter." Casey's look did not describer in the slightest bit as amused. "Okay, sorry. Casey, look, think of it from my perspective, that's one hell of a weird pill to swallow. You're under a lot of stress lately, that much is obvious. Maybe too much coffee... or not enough? This isn't the movies, people don't have 'visions'. You had a bad dream, and we just met today so I was still fresh in your mind, so I happened to be in it. That's it. You're going to be fine, just try to unwind and get some decent rest."
  7. "Doing well," he replied. "I heard about Cecilia, Mel. I'm sorry. I was in Bahrain when I got the news, I'm sorry I couldn't be here for the service." Conners took Mel's hand, gripping it tight and pulled him into a hug. "Been awhile, man." "Too long," was Mel reply. It was a weird night for the guy, so it was no surprise was currently a man of few words. Brent (which was Conners's first name), broke off the embrace and Mel ushered him into his apartment. It would be more suspicious if Mel tried to hide behind his door, so he figured if the guy was gonna notice something off, he may as well face the music standing tall. "Wow," he investigated the obvious downgrade from the home he'd visited the Grimson's in before Cecelia's passing. "Okay, I ain't gonna lie, Mel... I've known you a long time, and I gotta say... you look like shit, bro." As Mel rolled his eyes with a sight, not really in the mood for a lecture, Brent continued. "When was the last time you were out of here, barring a workout? Look, hear me out... my guys are booked for a gig in a couple'a weeks. Security for some art show, or something. I want the best for this one, it's a big deal for my business and, well, Grimson... you're the best. I want your eyes there, man. Plus, and I'm saying this because I love you, bro... you really need to get out and meet some people."
  8. Two questions: 1. Iron Body of Will. This negates the protection value of any other form of armor being worn, including shields. However, if the character still chose to wear armor strictly for show and theme based purposes, since the armor provides no benefits, would you still apply the penalties? Frankly I see my PC wearing armor and using shields of all sorts. He knows they don't do anything for him, but it's like a Marine without his rifle if he's not adorned in the vestments of a warrior. 2. Contempt of Distance. This gift states that you must have an unobstructed path (not view) to your target. Now, Thews of the Gods says that as part of (not the action itself) your movement you can tear through pretty much anything man made and it implies it doesn't slow you down in the slightest. Can Thews of the Gods be used to simply demolish a straight path to your target? After all, if it doesn't slow you down, it's technically not an obstruction... and personally I think it would be cool to b-line it through walls to get to my targets in true Juggernaut fashion.
  9. Several gifts seem redundant, like a few under Might and Sword augment your attacks, but they don't make any mention as to whether their effects stack or boost a similar effect slightly. For example the 'read straight' stuff. There's a one in Might and more than a few in Sword... seems like a waste to take them both.
  10. So, a big Greco/Roman wrestler/warrior named 'The Colossus of Rhodes' whose soul eventually goes into a Dwayne Johnson sized guy who fills pot holes in New York that people aptly call the 'Colossus of Roads'? Or Kratos? "MAX?!? YOU BETRAY ME!?!?"
  11. Did you guys need me to move it forward? Patrick sorta left it as if you guys might have a small 'how to handle things' meeting before moving on. I'm not opposed to that, it's just if that's the case, someone needs to say something.
  12. Mel was finishing bandaging his finger tips and walking down the hall to the kitchen to start something to eat there was another knock at the door. His blood boiled momentarily at the thought of Deacon next door bothering him some more until a voice declared that it certainly not Deacon. "Mel?" The person in the hall tapped on the door a few more times. "Mel? It's Conners." Conners was an old service buddy of his. He'd gotten out years ago and started a private security business here in New York keeping the rich and powerful alive so they could keep being rich and vapid. "Grimson," a few more taps at the door echoed in the apartment. "Open up, soldier, I came by to talk."
  13. Hope seemed in as short supply as sanity this evening. It had been nearly an hour and a half and still she paced back and forth. The other baristas continued to give her concerned looks, but for the most part didn't bother her as she chewed nervously on the nail of her thumb. Like New York coffee houses, The Full Pot was open pretty late most evenings. The closing time was really a suggestion, providing the influx of customers at the hour was enough to justify the pay roll being used. This was one of those evenings, where the place was (thankfully) packed with Tinder first dates, early drunks looking to sober up before the next party, and, as always the Pokemon Go late crowds who were gathered in a series of corner booths laughing and training their little mutant pets. She'd considered leaving a few times. The entire thing seemed absurd, in all honesty, but something was eating away at her, and nails don't magically appear in people's skin... do they? The thought crossed her mind once more, to just give up on all this and go home and hope Mr. Mourne didn't think she was some sort of closet psycho and pull her from the art gala. She'd known the guy all of what? 12 hours? And here she was calling him and telling him to be careful and meet her in a coffee shop in New York after hours... she'd gone from Casey Mason, Barista to Jason Bourne, super spy. She'd let out one final sigh and turned to the door when Horatio Mourne pushed it open and offered the baristas on duty a polite smile. He hadn't seemed to notice Casey, yet. He'd changed from his suit into something more casual. Hiking boots, denim jeans and a solid blue t-shirt with a heavy, stylish leather jacket to fight off the evening chill. His hair was still in a pony tail and thoroughly kempt as ever. The barista pointed to Casey and he nodded to her and said something to the barista and tapped the counter before approaching her. "Miss Mason," he offered her a smile but she didn't miss the awkward confusion in his tone. "Is... everything okay? You sounded a little rattled. Sorry, I would have been here sooner, I had some business and they didn't permit phones on the premises. Protection trade secrets and all that."
  14. "Ow," was all the massive 'creature' offered up in a tone so lazy Maya might had taken offense to they he'd ignored her assault like it was nothing... were she not running away and screaming for her life. "Oh, for crying out loud Seth! Are you frickin' serious!?" The second voice shouted with that thick DiVito/Jersey accent. "I told you, let me do the talking! Now you freaked her out!" May made it to the desk where the silent alarm was. Her hand slid under the counter and found nothing. There was no switch, no button. It was supposed to be here. Right here! Cursing in a panic she looked around, maybe she had the wrong the desk in her hurry to escape? No. It was gone from under the entire reception area... the alarm button was... "Gone?" Said the second voice. "Yeah, it ain't there is it? Look, calm down lady... you're gonna give yourself a panic attack and between you and me? I ain't CPR certified in the State of New York..." She still couldn't see the second one, but 'Seth' the creature was giggling at her misfortune at not finding the panic button. He took three massive, thunderous steps towards her and she screamed and was off like a shot. Maya slammed into the library's main doors, unable to brake her speed in her panic. She gripped the handles tight and pulled on them. Nothing. She unlocked them, pulled again, then pushed... still nothing. The doors were jammed! They rattled and creaked but refused to open! "Oh, yeah! The button is mysteriously gone from under the desk, but wait! The doors must still work, right?! Wrong-O! C'mon lady... are you serious right now? You realize if you were a white girl in a towel right, the serial killer would have already killed you by now, right? Man you humans are so pig headed..." Seth lumbered around the corner, his massive size blocked her from escape. She was trapped. He continued to move closer, slowing his pace with his hands raised up like he was dealing with a dog he didn't want to bite him. "Good, lady." He said softly, with a hint of a mental disorder. Maya offered another scream as a reply. "Lady, seriously! Could you stop with all the screaming!? I mean really, I have sensitive ears, and poor Seth here has a heart condition... can we keep the drama to a minimum, please?" The voice was close... really close. May frantically looked around until a tug at her shirt brought her attention to the floor where she was greeted by a... rabbit? A three foot tall bipedal rabbit... bit it was definitely a rabbit. A look of confusion and dread mingled itself all over her expression. The rabbit narrowed his eyes. "Lady, I swear, if you're thinking about punting me, we're gonna have a problem because I'm in no mood right now."
  15. Nadia: +1 XP for excessive stressing of the name Todd. Funny shit.
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