Welcome to Gaia! ::


The Shade of Casin rolled 1 20-sided dice: 15 Total: 15 (1-20)

Gracious Conversationalist

9,775 Points
  • Partygoer 500
  • Forum Sophomore 300
  • Marathon 300
User Image
User Image - Blocked by "Display Image" Settings. Click to show.

Remember you lot of grot lovers...


Dread's pace slowed as he started to hear the loud roar of bike engines. He stopped and looked about, waiting to see what this commotion was about. He held his hand palm out to Wrath. Biker boys tended to be more fun. He thought for as long as he could on if they lived like that because they normally died pretty fast. The Orks launched themselves over the ramp and now burning hovel. The large ork Crossed his arms, waiting to see how this one was going to turn out. He shuffled the bag over his back, he did not like walking around with as many teeth as he had, but he had forgotten that in his haste to get to the weird boys.

This could come as a very costly fight, should it turn into one. The way the Dok fixed up the ork did not surprise Dread, however the Dok starting to walk towards him did.

Dread had trouble reading this one, he seemed to be unpredictable even by ork high standards. but here he stood, right in front of Dread. His tone and body did not seem to be threatening, the the words did. Dread did not know what to do. This is the Boss, attacking him outright could be costly.

Dread beat his chest, and looked towards the Dok. "Oi, I iz da Big Boss Dread the Prop-pa-gate-ta. I was da First Ork." Dread turns his hand to the North, pointing towards the Central Waaaaagggghhh Tower. " 'N I made dat wif 'iant bones."


I is the biggest, so I is the Boss

User Image - Blocked by "Display Image" Settings. Click to show.


Clockwork_Daeva
ChainsawDooM

ChainsawDooM's Partner In Crime

Unsealed Specter

Roilvn Whiro
ChainsawDooM

Can you hear it...
Under all the racket?


Location: The Camp: The Ramp
With: Dread; Roxxo and his Boyz


A noise in the none-too-far-off distance was what caught her attention, first. It was an annoying distraction, on top of annoying distractions. Just over the crackling flames of the trash heap she'd ignited, there was another sound, a droning buzz and a chant of some sort, both of which were becoming louder. She soon recognized the droning as belonging to motorcycle engines. This caught her off guard. Dread stopped and motioned for to halt. Seeing no reason not to do so, she paused to turn and watch what it was that was approaching them. The elf hadn't heard such a thing in quite some time, not since she'd last happened upon a realm with such gasoline driven monstrosities. What these ran on, was a very good question. These orks seemed to be able to do many inexplicable things. The roaring motorbikes and idolizing chanting filled the area with noise as the biker boyz made their appearance.

She paid close attention to their boss as he jumped into the scene; not that one could get away with not paying attention to him. The crimson-eyed elf scowled deeply as they were surrounded, warily eyeing the potential enemies that circled around them. Her right hand twitched slightly, but it remained by her side as she fought the instinct to draw her blade. The Dok's revival of the gang's fallen comrade was rather surprising. Barbarous and unsurvivable by elven standards. It was similar to bu still different from the few rituals she had observed being performed by priests of Gruumsh. It would never do to mention that it could be much more like the sacrificial rites of the Drow. Dread, she noted, was mostly unphased by the appearance of Dok Roxxo and his boyz.

It was when the Dok had the presence of mind to take notice of them that she found herself increasingly more enraged than annoyed, the more he spoke. For a moment, Wrath's eyes flickered from irised crimson to pupiless black, then back again. Vengeance muttered in its' sheath, almost audible, obviously hungry. Was he insulting her? The Dok made a tempting target and the fact that he was approaching with open arms was not helping. This one, she would enjoy killing. “I'm no angel, ork. My Fall might have been painful, but only for those that dared to come too close. I am Wrath, who once slew Dread,” she snarled at Roxxo, taking a half-step forward. She had not yet drawn her blade, but her semi-skeletal sword-hand rested upon the vicious weapon's pommel. The elf did not want to be touched.


The call to battle,
The Song of War.

The Everchangeling's Partner In Crime

Dangerous Conversationalist

24,625 Points
  • Hygienic 200
  • Peoplewatcher 100
Roilvn Whiro
Clockwork_Daeva

I don't know what they're talking about,
I'm making my own decisions!

Roxxo stopped awkwardly shuffling towards them and dropped his arms when Dread beat his chest, seemingly startled to see Dread, as if he'd somehow forgotten the huge Warboss was even there. The surprise was quickly replaced by what could only be describes as an... overly enthusiastic smile and the crossing of his arms to hug at his chest. Now that he'd stopped moving for a moment, those present could also notice that the Dok always seemed to be shifting the weight around on his feet, never quite standing still, with random rolls and sways of his hips, as if he were either drunk, or a boxer, or something else entirely.

He was about to respond, when Wrath began to speak, cutting his reply before the words could begin to leave his throat. He looked genuinely confused at response about her fall, as that was a rather unusual way to respond to that particular line, but quickly and nonchalantly brushed it off, his eyes widening in a type of awe when she mentioned that she managed to take down Dread.

"OOOOOooooo! You killed da Big Boss? MMMMmmmmm, you must be SOOOooo su-su-su-su-STROOOOONG! An' Dok Roxxo don' fink 'Wraff' fits you at all. No-n-n-n-n-n-n-Noooooo! We fink we'z gonna have ta fink uv somfin' betta if we'z can't call you angel-eyez no more," he said, clearly forgetting what he actually called her to begin with, but thinking that had to be it after seeing her eyes change earlier.

"And, yoooooooooou! Oh, m-m-m-m-m-my! You really IIIIIIS a big one, mistah Boss Dread! MMMMmmmm-An' so VEEEEEERY SKILLED in buildin' muh-muh-muh-massive, erekt t-t-towers out of G-G-G-G-GIANT BOOOOOOOOONES! OOOOoooo-CH-CH-CH-YEAH!" he commented clearly impressed, his sentence punctuated with small cockings of his hips, swaying, and ended by a very ostentatious gyration of his hips. He then began to very carefully look Dread up and down, seemingly admiring him.

At one point, the crazed dok leaned far over to his right, trying to see Dread in that angle for reasons known only to himself. However, he leaned too far over, lost his balance, and ended up turning his trip into an impromptu sloppy cartwheel during which, while his feet were in the air, the Elf and Warboss could clearly see pipes or nozzles of some kind exiting the heels of his boots, and what appeared to be canisters inside his pants behind his calves. He appeared to stumble almost drunkenly a few steps forward, carrying his angle closer to Dread's side, but only slightly closer in distance to Dread, before apparently finally catching his balance. He then stood bolt upright once again like a shot, looking back and forth between the two with a manic grin.

He once again raised his arms as if he wanted to give the two a hug, but then the immediate immolating glare from Wrath gave him pause, so he reconsidered and put his arms down again. He offered his right hand in a handshake... unfortunately that happened to be the one with a buzzsaw on it. The wisely untaken offering hung out there, Roxxo smiling congenially, seemingly unaware of the lack of forethought inherent in the gesture until suddenly the buzzsaw groaned, coughed to life and ground rustily for a few short bursts of noise before again falling silent.

His smile faded so quickly it was like it was struck off his face by the look of genuine surprised confusion that replaced it, which then quickly turned quite pensive, before he finally dropped that hand before lifting and staring at his left palm, looking hopeful. However, his look then changed drastically, as if suddenly realizing something, and then changed to an almost comedically overdramatic look of vexation when he flipped his hand over to take a look at the gigantic syringe strapped to the back of his forearm, as if he were suddenly blaming the syringe for all of life's problems. This process of looking at his left palm in hope and then returning to stare at the syringe in disdain repeated a few more times, with gradually decreasing extravagance in the facial expressions each time, before he finally dropped both arms. He looked looked between Wrath and Dread again a few times, and then once again raised his arms for a great big bear hug and a huge smile... for about 2 seconds before seemingly remembering that was exactly the thing that he couldn't do in the first place, dropping them again with a frown, and finally shrugging, but ending by dropping his shoulders and head as if he was dejectedly moping.

"All dis unfriendliness iz bringin' Dok Roxxo d-d-d...dooown..."
"..."
"TIME FER A B-B-B-BOOSTA SHOT!"
he screamed, before taking his syringe and jabbing it into his own neck, his eyed dilating and his jaw clenching as he smiled in manic, drugged out glee as the potent cocktail of stimulants and who knows what else coursed into his system.

"OOOOOOOOH-K-K-K-YEAH! dat's da g-g-g-goooooood stuff, right dere! MMmmm, needed me a p-p-p-pick me UPPPPPPP!"

"Soooooooo! How 'bouts I intro-DUCE ya ta my Merry band o' boyz!?"

This thing that I found ain't gonna bring me down!
I'm like a junkie without an addiction!

Gracious Conversationalist

9,775 Points
  • Partygoer 500
  • Forum Sophomore 300
  • Marathon 300
User Image
User Image - Blocked by "Display Image" Settings. Click to show.

Remember you lot of grot lovers...


Dread straightened up when he saw the dok start to inject himself with Chems. He figured it did not matter either way now, the right batch of chems could make an ork unstoppable. It also could make your eyes pop out and be replaced with Squigs. Dread brought his armored fist to his chin, tapping it as he thought, "Oi, let me do un inspekton. 'ake 'ure yer boyz are up ta snuff. Dey need ta be fast, loud, n snazza!" Dread looks toward Wrath, smiling as he looked towards and smiled his normaly gonna be fun smile. So fifty fifty on a fight.


I is the biggest, so I is the Boss

User Image - Blocked by "Display Image" Settings. Click to show.


Clockwork_Daeva
ChainsawDooM

ChainsawDooM's Partner In Crime

Unsealed Specter

Roilvn Whiro
ChainsawDooM

Can you hear it...
Under all the racket?


Location: The Camp: The Ramp
With: Dread; Roxxo and his Boyz


Wrath's scowl may as well have been etched in stone, such was the look on her face as she watched the insane and very strange Dok Roxxo try to comprehend what he'd just been told. She wondered if he was one of these psionic orks that Gunna and Dread had been talking about, a madboy. Obviously, he must be. The thought was only reinforced when he mentioned the fact that he thought she ought to be called by something other than 'Wrath'. The elf wasn't about to give him her true name, though. Roxxo was also, she noted, a junkie. There had been a handful of addicts she'd run across, even in her home realm. It was those that dwelt in realms with 'futuretech' that seemed the most disturbed and the drugs more potent, more dangerous. The mad doctor was addicted to his own brew. His boyz probably were, too. Dread was acting as if all of this were normal and, for all she knew, it was. She snorted derisively while the Dok tried to wrap his mind around not being able to hug them, but the fact that he had settled on not doing so was a minor relief. She turned her haughty, murderous gaze away from him to the ring on orks that surrounded the three leaders, scanning their faces and studying the vehicles they rode on. She caught a glimpse of Dread's smile and smirked slightly. "Indeed...It would be interesting to see what the lot of you can do." It would certainly prove to be interesting, if events went downhill.


The call to battle,
The Song of War.

The Everchangeling's Partner In Crime

Dangerous Conversationalist

24,625 Points
  • Hygienic 200
  • Peoplewatcher 100
Roilvn Whiro
Clockwork_Daeva

Mama don't cry, I just wanna stay high!
I like playing with danger and fear!

"OOOOOOOOoo! An inspekshun!?" he asked loudly, doing a little spin and flaring his jacket off his shoulders before flipping it back on, showing scars following the line of his torso as if his whole chest was once taken off. "Take all da time ya need, Dread-'ead! Hee-hee -- Oi kin feel yer EYEZ! Dey tickle! HAHAHAHAAAA, YEAH!" he screamed. He then put the middle and index fingers of his left hand into his mouth and blowing a shrill whistle... before removing his fingers far more slowly than should ever be necessary, bringing them down in a slow caress of his chin before crossing his arms again and looking at Wrath.

"Oh, what da lot of us kin D-D-D-D-DOOOOOO? HAHAHAAAA!" he screeched, before throwing his left arm in the air and beginning to quickly draw circles in the sky without looking before shouting, "Ollroight, boyz! Form up, perpendikulah, LAAAAAAYzee arc-style, 8 meetahs - an' m-m-m-make it snappy!"

There was the roar of engines as the warbikes came to life, and Roxxo turned to watch. The formation of bikers began to spin, as if tightening the noose, before one of the bikers peeled off from the circle to head towards Roxxo's indicated position, the rest of the bikes following, the group of 9 bikers and their bikes parked end-to-end in a lazy arc in front of the group.

"WOOO! HAHAHA-Alright!" he yelled cheerfully before looking back at Dread and Wrath, before pointing at the bikers who appear to be arranged in no apparent order and introducing them by name. "Dere's Jakko, Wakko, Waldo - but we calls 'im Wally, Skully, Bone 'Ead, Mr. Skraps, Meaney, Miney, an' Moe. ... An ME! Dok Roxxo! K-K-K-YEAH!"

Everybody's walkin', but nobody's talkin'!
It looks a lot better from here!

((Descriptions to follow))

The Everchangeling's Partner In Crime

Dangerous Conversationalist

24,625 Points
  • Hygienic 200
  • Peoplewatcher 100
Roilvn Whiro
Clockwork_Daeva

All my life I've been over the top!
I don't know what I'm doing all I know is I don't wanna stop!

Jakko was 6'10" and used a huge spanner as his weapon. He wore a ripped and grease-stained black, quilted leather sleeveless shirt underneath a studded leather vest with overly large coattails that draped almost to the backs of his knees. His massive green forearms were bare except for the covering of soot and engine grease that painted them black save for the streaks of green where rivulets of sweat had sloughed the caked-on filth off. His face was covered by a large, orange-painted, round metal helmet similar in design to a pumpkin which had glowing triangular lenses for the eyes that an observer might assume improved his vision. The mouth was a jagged cut in the metal, like the maw of a shark or other vicious great beast, and it spouted flames from two concealed tubes that wound down the sides of his neck, underneath his vest, and into a group of canisters on his belt, which was brown squig-leather with a buckle shaped liked crossed spanners. His pants and boots were black squig-leather: sturdy, yet unremarkable.

Jakko's bike was in the style of a Harley chopper, painted a shiny black with the piping, fuel tanks, and engine chromed. Each cylinder's exhaust had its own tube, each terminating at a different point on the bike, with no apparent pattern. These would shoot out continual gouts of flame and massive columns of soot while the vehicle was running.

Wakko was 7'. His forearms and hands from below the elbow and down were replaced by heavy, black prosthetics, and he had thick, iron chains wrapped around both arms that he could uncoil and extend to use as weapons, or leave as they were for devastating clotheslines or punches. His chest and arms were bare save for two black squig-leather straps that held two steel canisters on his back like a backpack. Each of these canisters was painted black, with orange caution stripes and ork glyphs denoting "Speed", "Waaagh", and "Lightning". Each also had a single tube that ran into his back, where the kidneys would be on a human. His pants were of black squig-leather, and they had a quilted pattern on the inside of his legs along his inner thighs from crotch to ankle, while the outer sides had a pattern of black and orange checks running the length of the left leg, and caution stripes in a band on his right. He had a large, pink liberty spike mohawk and wore a steel gas mask securely attached to his face via an array of straps. The mask was black, and had the voice amplifier on the front with the canister off to the right side. It was featureless, save for a pattern of orange, triangular checks in a "V" pattern down the front of the mask which incorporated the mask's two eyepieces into the pattern, which were also orange and triangular.

His bike looked like the demonic offspring of a Kawasaki superbike and orkish armor, painted in stunning blacks and oranges with spikes in all the right intimidating places.

Waldo "Wally" Zogoffski was 6'8". He wore what resembled a haggard, squig-leather night cap striped in alternating orange and black, fashioned into a hood with a stiff tail that meandered crazily upwards before drooping back down and ending festooned with a chromed steel spikey ball. His torso was armored with a laminar chestpiece with a high, gorget-like collar, its steel bands alternating orange and black, and his arms were armored in black-iron, riveted chain links. His boots and pants were white squig-leather, and the pants were decorated with a double-layer band of black-and-white checkers down the sides. His eyes had been replaced by almost comically large, black binocular-like prosthetic eyes. He wielded a large, spherical spiked flail attached to what appeared to be half an axle by three feet of heavy chain.

His bike was a heavily armored scooter with a stupidly large engine. Thick slabs of metal covered the front, and two large, black and orange striped tusks reminiscent of candy canes framed the most rude of orkish glyphs proudly displayed at the front and center of his bike.

Skully was 7' tall. He wore an open-face helmet shaped and painted like a giant, yellowed human skull with a single chrome Prussian spike on the top and black, squig-leather flaps that covered his ears and neck. His entire lower jaw was clearly bionik and skeletal in design, a gleaming chrome mandible, tusks and all. Every inch of flesh on his body was body painted white, and he wore an open, dirty tan leather vest which showed a very thick, fully metal, chromed rib-cage. His leggings were the same dirty tan leather as his vest, while his boots were a darker, muddier brown. He wielded a large, two-handed big choppa, unadorned and painted black, the blade polished to a silver sheen: wickedly long, straight, and cruel-looking with a jagged finish.

His bike looked like this, but with heavier armor.

Bone 'ead was 7'6", had almost no neck due to his massive shoulder muscles (some of the only flesh still showing on his form), and was built like a tank, even for an ork. It looked like the skin on his head had been removed somehow, the bare bone now visible, and there were black-iron spike piercings on the top of his skull, like he had an evil morningstar for his head. He covered the rest of his face with a black bandanna with the skull's grin on it, the image marred only by the pair of dirty, yellowed tusks that pierced through it, and his eyes were replaced with a black visor prosthesis that was black and glowing orange. The rest of his body was obviously heavily augmented with bioniks and cybork parts: his pecs looked like they had been replaced with engine blocks, but whether they were prosthetic or some kind of eccentric armor one couldn't be sure; his torso and back were armored by large, segmented slabs of black iron; and his arms and legs were masses of steel, armored but otherwise uncovered. He wielded a large warhammer, the head of which was reminiscent of his skull.

His bike was more like a 4-wheeled ATV, with additional slabs of armor built into a slope along the front, and what appeared to be small jet engines supplementing his already massive engine strapped near the rear on the sides.

Mr. Skraps was 7'2". Covered in numerous scars, and with different shades of flesh from obvious "donations" all over his body, it was hard to tell what parts of him were original anymore. Probably none of him. It wasn't even certain if he was actually a nob by growth, or if those were merely the parts that were most readily available. He wore a ragged, brown squig-leather jacket and pants that looked just as stitched together and repaired as he was, with black boots with very thick soles. He wielded a large car axle that had been fashioned into a sturdy weapon at one point, but now appeared to have been bent, straightened (poorly), broken, and welded back together many times.

His bike was a jumbled patchwork of different styles, the only thing in common between them, other than their cobbled-together appearance, was the thickness and overall blockyness of their design, as if the mekaniak had just given up trying to make something with any style to it and just opted to make it as easy to fit replacements as possible.

Meaney was 6'10". He wore a black, modern looking motorcycle helmet with no visor and an orange saw-blade mohawk attached to his helmet. He wore a stylishly stitched together biker suit made out of black squig-leather with orange padding/armoring and tall, shiny black jackboots. He wielded a large car axle with wicked spikes welded through it, looking not unlike a massive spiked bat.

Miney was 6'6". He wore a very dark gray, almost black steel biker helmet, although the bottom of the helmet underneath the face mask jutted out in a wedge with a grille punched through it, accented with a painting of the gaping maw of a shark. He wore a studded black and dark gray padded biker suit with three sharp, orange-painted blade-like fins along his spine, black boots with orange straps, and mid-forearm length gloves with similar fins and straps. He wielded a large one-handed choppa with a v-shaped blade, serrated and bloody on the inside like the maw of a shark.

Moe was 6'9". He wore a black biker helmet with an orange-painted steel hockey mask welded onto the front. His black padded biker suit was ripped and tattered, showing bare green flesh underneath, but still looked fairly functional and protective. He wore ankle-height, but very thick ans sturdy looking black boots, and black fingerless gloves. He wielded a large, one-handed chopper that looked like a machete.

Meaney, Miney, and Moe's bikes all resembled armored dirtbikes, with painting and very minor styling fitting their themes.

"We'z da Halloweeners! Pleazah ta m-m-m-m-MEEEETCHA! YEAAAAAAH!!!"

All fired up, I'm gonna go 'til I drop!
You're either in or in the way, don't make me I don't wanna stop!

Gracious Conversationalist

9,775 Points
  • Partygoer 500
  • Forum Sophomore 300
  • Marathon 300
User Image
User Image - Blocked by "Display Image" Settings. Click to show.

Remember you lot of grot lovers...


Dread stroked his chin thoughtfully as he watched every one of the boys go by. His eyes watched each boy, debating what one he should fight. He started to grow bored as he looked down at Wrath. That was right, the Weirdboyz.

As the group finished, Dread held out his hand towards Roxxo. "If dey ready fer fightin, go un scoot dat towa ovva dere." Dread motioned over his shoulder to the large Tower. "See if yer boyz can get in ta it. Show Wraf wat proppa Orky Scootin is yea?"


I is the biggest, so I is the Boss

User Image - Blocked by "Display Image" Settings. Click to show.


Clockwork_Daeva
ChainsawDooM

ChainsawDooM's Partner In Crime

Unsealed Specter

Roilvn Whiro
ChainsawDooM

Can you hear it...
Under all the racket?


Location: The Camp: The Ramp
With: Dread; Roxxo and his Boyz


The elf grinned wickedly upon the Warboss' "suggestion" to Roxxo and his band of misfit ruffians. "Yes, it would be most interesting to see if there's more to find out about that tower," said Wrath, contemplative as she flicked her gaze in the direction of that vile thing for a moment, before glancing back to the farce that was the Halloweeners.
"Good fighting, perhaps."


The call to battle,
The Song of War.

The Everchangeling's Partner In Crime

Dangerous Conversationalist

24,625 Points
  • Hygienic 200
  • Peoplewatcher 100
Roilvn Whiro
Clockwork_Daeva

Why don't they ever listen to me?
Is this a one way conversation?

Roxxo took a quick look at the tower before sitting back onto his bike side-saddle. Slouching forward, he propped his left foot up against the rear fender of his trike while he propped his left elbow on his knee, his cheek coming to rest on his left fist, his right arm draping languidly over the handlebars. He then began to idly roll his right ankle, digging shallow divots in the earth as he sat, smirking seductively back at the pair.

"MMMmmm. So dat's how dis iz, hmmmmmm? You'z want ol' Dok Roxxo ta do a bit uv... voy-yoorin' on a giant pillar uv rock 'ard stone, followed by a bit uv... forceful penetration from our little... gaaaaaang, CH-CH-CH-YEAH!

"Oi love it. Sooooo k-k-k-k-kinky, Hoo-hoo-yeah!"
He said, before shifting his position. He quickly flipped his legs up to roll over and lay on the seat of his bike, crossing his legs and relaxing with his hands behind his head as he leaned back onto the handlebars and stared at the sky.

"OOOOOoooh, don't you worry, little sista. Da Halloweenerz iz gonna find out everyfin' dere iz ter know about dat tower. We'z gonna plumb every nook an' kranny; find every little sweet spot, vulnrability, an' dirty secret itz got ter offer. Hm-hm-hm," he chuckled darkly, before glancing back to Dread and Wrath.

"Dis sorta job wuz made fer da loiks uv us. Me an' da boyz: we'z'll show ya 'proppa Orky Scootin',' olroight, ch-ch-ch." he said with a strange giggle and an ominous toothy grin, the rest of the Halloweenerz joining in with cackling laughter and raucous guffaws in the background (except for Skully, who was as silent and starey as always).


Nothing they say is gonna set me free!
Don't need no mental masturbation!
(edited because he would have totally been slouching forward in the first paragraph)
(edited end to give more reaction and life to the Halloweenerz who are well within earshot of Roxxo)

Gracious Conversationalist

9,775 Points
  • Partygoer 500
  • Forum Sophomore 300
  • Marathon 300
User Image
User Image - Blocked by "Display Image" Settings. Click to show.

Remember you lot of grot lovers...


Dread roared with laughter with the gang of Bikers. He swung his Goff Hammer and pointed towards the tower. "DEN CHARGE N' GET TA SCOOTIN LADS! WWWAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!" As Dread Roared the air seemed to gain an electric feel to it. As Dread roared he felt the Waaagghh empower him, his felt it oooze from his body as he pointed to the tower. (Feel free to take as many orkz as you want with you.)


I is the biggest, so I is the Boss

User Image - Blocked by "Display Image" Settings. Click to show.


Clockwork_Daeva
ChainsawDooM

ChainsawDooM's Partner In Crime

Unsealed Specter

Roilvn Whiro
ChainsawDooM

Can you hear it...
Under all the racket?


Location: The Camp
With: Dread; The Departing Scouts


When Roxxo and his gang, along with the mob Dread had rallied from the surrounding on-lookers, Tauivae turned her attention to the Warboss. “Quite an interesting lot of miscreants, those. But not the ones we set out to see, now were they?” she said, quizzically raising a brow as she pressed the demand she'd made earlier. “You said there were shamans and we need to see how dangerous they are.” Wrath had had enough of this nonsense, approaching the limit of her tolerance for it, as her tone conveyed. She was either going to get her way or start killing things. Or both.


The call to battle,
The Song of War.

The Everchangeling's Partner In Crime

Dangerous Conversationalist

24,625 Points
  • Hygienic 200
  • Peoplewatcher 100
Roilvn Whiro
Clockwork_Daeva
Too many religions for only one god.
I don't need another savior!

"OOOOoooh! Oi'm feelin' tingly all ovah!" Roxxo moaned out, as he began to writhe suggestively in his laid back pose. He bit his lip and began to stroke his chest and metal arm with his good hand while his right arm and it's buzzsaw fell to the side, twitching and sputtering spasmodically.

"Ooh, yeah, Dread-'ead! Jus' loik dat! Oi kin feel it d-d-deep down... fillin' me up-UP-UUUPPPP! Ch-ch-CH-CH-CHCHCHCH! Oi'm gonna... gonna..."

A low rumble began to build in Roxxo, quiet at first, but it began to build quickly to a ferocious intensity. With a sudden urgency, his back arched and his toes pointed.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" he screamed in a high voice that would be the envy of any rock musician alive, the other Halloweeners joining in with their own bellows (except for Skully, who seemed to add even MORE inensity to his already intense gaze).

The scream trailed off to a strangled halt as his massive lungs finally ran out of air, before Roxxo drew a sudden deep breath and grabbed the handlebars behind his head. He planted his feet on the dirt on the sides of his bike, and by pushing with his feet and using the boosters in them, crunching his abs, and pulling with his massive biceps, he flipped himself into a handstand above the handlebars. He hung there for a moment before reversing his grip to turn around and slammed down onto the bike, his right foot ramming the kickstarter sending his bike roaring to life once again.

With a grin, he shot a coy sideways glance at Dread.

"Oooh, Mr. Big Boss-man. Ya sure know how ta show a boy a good time! Oi'd love ya ta let me return da favor... n-n-n-next time!" he said, following it with a bemused smirk.

Roxxo then looked around, noticing the gathering of boys they seemed to have attracted.

"Oooooh. So many strong boys just for little old Dokta Roxxo?" he asked with a lewd sounding giggle. "Now, you boyz kin come along, if ya kin keep up!" he said and ended with a cackle, the other boys joining in with jeers and raucous guffaws as their monstrous and nearly deafeningly loud engines revved up. With that, the Halloweeners peeled off in the direction of the tower, whooping and hollering as they went while decapitating the odd boy here and there.

Don't try to change my mind, you know I'm one of a kind.
Ain't gonna change my bad behavior!
Roilvn Whiro
Clockwork_Daeva

Lokashun: Gunna's Mek Shop (Unda Konstrukshun).
Wiff: Nowun Speshul.


Gunna's mek shop was coming along nicely, and he allowed himself a short break to think back on recent events. All-in-all, the meeting had gone well. He hadn't necessarily enjoyed the troublesome back and forth between Wrath and himself, but he supposed it was necessary to lay some kind of foundation between them. That the elf despised him was obvious, even to such a socially oblivious creature as he. That it had bothered him a small amount, however, was an interesting development, one that the highly observational mind of the mek noted, but his kind didn't have the predilection for trying to understand the deeper reasons behind such things. Not that the tension bothered him on a personal level, he just didn't relish how the possibility of a feud developing the two of them. That would take far too much time and effort, and there was so much to do.

Turning his thoughts to Dread, Gunna was forced to admit to himself that he couldn't really get a read on his new Warboss -- or, perhaps Warlord would be the correct term now, seeing as he now led multiple Ork klans into battle with the addition of the Blood Axes. Dread seemed to have followed the conversation perfectly, but on many occasions had surprisingly little to add to it. He supposed the boss might be biding his time, watching him and trying to keep him in the dark. That and allowing his allies to meet may have been the true purpose of the meeting: not to discuss strategy and the general plan, but to get an appraisal of Gunna and even more information on Wrath by having him deal with an unfamiliar element. Shrewdly tactical if true, but Gunna left room for doubt in his assessments for the less impressive alternatives. Dread was a Goff after all. ... But then, so is Ghazghkull.

Seeing that the work being done on his workshop was satisfactory and at a point that needed no supervision from him, he decided to step out and see how the defenses he had ordered prepared were coming along. He doubted the allegiance of the boyz and nobz he had assigned to digging and preparing the defenses. After all, they were Goffs, and he was a Blood Axe Mek.

Gracious Conversationalist

9,775 Points
  • Partygoer 500
  • Forum Sophomore 300
  • Marathon 300
User Image
User Image - Blocked by "Display Image" Settings. Click to show.

Remember you lot of grot lovers...


Dread stopped and looked at the boys leaving before he looked down at Wrath. "Dun Know, dere weird boyz." He said matter of factly, shifting from one foot to the other. "Do we gotta see da wierd boyz? Neva like dem much." Dread despite all of his size and roars, really really did not like the weird boys. He would prefer to be anywhere, even reading books in a library, rather than going to see the weird boys.


I is the biggest, so I is the Boss

User Image - Blocked by "Display Image" Settings. Click to show.


Clockwork_Daeva
ChainsawDooM

Quick Reply

Submit
Manage Your Items
Other Stuff
Get GCash
Offers
Get Items
More Items
Where Everyone Hangs Out
Other Community Areas
Virtual Spaces
Fun Stuff
Gaia's Games
Mini-Games
Play with GCash
Play with Platinum