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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 27 2017, 04:22 PM (1,922 Views) | |||||||||||||
| ♥ Bright | Aug 12 2017, 01:36 PM Post #61 | ||||||||||||
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"Let... let me go..." Augusta sniffed. Lang did not comply, and continued to hold her tight with his many arms. If she really wanted and was at full strength - emotionally and otherwise - he had little doubt she could wriggle or force her way out of his grip. As it stood, she was in no such state. "No. You need to see." he told her, slackening off just enough to let her twist her body to see Eileen pelting after Henry with breakneck desperation. They both stood and listened, watched the pair struggle even when they were reduced to dancing shadows in the dark. Augusta jumped, flinched, and struggled a little harder once the Marines began to flood into the basement, as the screaming and shouting reached its peak. Lang, however, remained resolute and held on. It was only as Eileen reached for her pistol that he clamped his arms down on Augusta, forcing her body closer to his and shielding her eyes from the inevitable end. It did not stop her hearing, of course. The crack that echoed around the room and rang the ears like gongs, or the sudden concrete thud of flesh meeting the ground. Retribution, absolution, all in half a second and a pair of sounds. Augusta's cries became the next loudest thing. She wailed, and beat at Lang's chest, and gradually he slackened off to let her fall to her knees. A pair of Marines lifted her up, slapped manacles around her wrists and swiftly escorted her away. Lang watched her go and released her into their custody without word or complaint. There wasn't anything to be said, not to her anyway. She would mourn, like the rest of them. Though none of it was a pleasant business, Lang could only hope that there would be a silver lining and Augusta would better understand the people of Cactus. Through empathy came conciliation. The experience might even let Augusta find a better way to ease the island's sadness, no matter how long it took. But Lang doubted he or Eileen would ever be around to bear witness to those fruit. The extra arms withdrew, and Lang returned to a normal human guise. He quietly strode forward, scooped up poor Red and slid her gently into a pocket, then stood by Eileen's side. He gazed down at the shattered body and mind of a brilliant man twisted by fury, hatred, and indeed a lack of empathy, before wrapping an sympathetic arm around Eileen and giving her a little shake. "For what it's worth, I think you did the right thing, Eileen. Not necessarily the prettiest, the easiest, or the kindest. But the right thing all the same." His gaze drifted down to his pocket. "I need to get Red some aid. Take however long you need. I'll be at the lodge for a while." She got one last little shake from him before he took back his arm, took a final look at Henry, and then left. The streets were a mess, but gradually coming under order as the Marines did their work. Fires burned with their smoke stack hats and every stall, cart and container that was unlucky enough to be outside at the time of the toxin's spread was overturned at best, smashed to splinters at worst. Medics were out in full force, treating to the wounded and, occasionally, bodies. Most weren't too badly hurt, but all were shaken. Lang wondered, then, if things would have changed much even had Henry succeeded. All the pain and terror of the day might have warranted a whole other form of mourning, after all. Old habits died hard, and no matter how revolutionary his claims and truths, you couldn't wipe out an entire culture in a single stroke, just as an artist could not complete a painting. Change took time. Patience. And even when it did finally roll over and settle, there were still countless others that would, funnily enough, mourn the old ways. Lang sighed, and hurried to the nearest vets he could find. |
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| ♦ SoIo | Aug 15 2017, 11:02 AM Post #62 | ||||||||||||
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*10 hours later* The morning sun shone brightly upon Eileen's seemingly stoic expression. She was at the Marine prison, looking behind a window that contained the visiting booth. She saw a lady walk in, who looked just as lost as many of the mourning islanders in Cactus Island but dressed more officially. She precariously sat down on her steel chair. The lady stared across a clear glass wall and picked up the Mushi receiver. The prisoner behind the wall also did the same. Eileen tuned in and quietly listened to both Augusta and Zoe speak to each other. "Oh Zoe...are you okay?" "I am...I was hit by the demonic gas, but I'll be fine." Zoe paused. "Will you be okay?" Augusta could only try to break out a smile. "Yes, I will be...Oh, Zoe. I'm so happy that you are okay." "I am too...Augusta, what's going to happen to you?" The Marine's emotions began to brew and boil again. Eileen withdrew the receiver from her ear and let out a soft sigh. She no longer needed to listen to their conversation anymore. Her mentality had already been toiled enough for the past two days. Based on that remorseful conversation, it turned out Eileen did make the right decision of permanently ending the incident. Or so she believed it to be the right decision... Eileen's lips curved as she saw Augusta completely break down, her hands covering her mouth as her body hiccupped with tears. Zoe's blank expression merely watched Augusta, almost responding likewise. Eileen knew the artist was going to be imprisoned for quite a while, despite being mentally held under duress. The damage she caused was more severe than the artist had expected. Though, Eileen felt enough empathy to grant Augusta her request: a conversation with Zoe. The Captain had called Eileen to the Marine base earlier to talk. When she received the call, Eileen instead requested him to meet her at the prison as she was busy handling Augusta. Graciously enough, the Captain agreed. But she wasn't going to be alone with him in this conversation; Lang was also requested. She knew the Captain had recently been in conversation with the squad of Marines Lang had been accompanied with, who were in the same communication line as Eileen when she was in the interrogation room. Eileen could only correctly deduce what the Captain wanted to talk about. It appeared that the Captain had been slightly delayed, so Lang would arrive at the prison earlier than him. Eileen still remained silent as she continued to watch the sullen booth. Numerous conflicting thoughts battled across her head. What more could she have done? Was something of this scale inevitable? Were the Marines willing to do anything they want to follow their agenda? She wanted to fight for the people...but what was the right way to fight for them? The questions made her feel frustrated inside. The conversation between Augusta and Zoe ended. The newly prison clothed Augusta was then led away by the Marines while Zoe walked in the opposite direction. When the two left the booth, Eileen initiated the conversation with the bounty hunter. "You know...that was my first confirmed kill as a Marine." She tried to avoid using his name. "It's kind of ironic. I was trained to be an assassin, and not once have I killed anyone until yesterday." She forced out a painful chuckle. A taste of bitterness could be felt from her tone. She then breathed out the question that has forever been seared into her head. "They're mourning over a lie. Do you think the island deserved to know the real truth?" |
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I'm going to be less active as of 9/25/17. Kinda hitting a point where I'm contemplating why I'm here while having a full-time job. OPRP Character Builder Tool (Last Updated: June 2017) Eileen Falkner Jessabelle Adams Ray Solo PSA | |||||||||||||
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| ♥ Bright | Aug 20 2017, 06:20 AM Post #63 | ||||||||||||
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"Three... Four... Five million..." The Marine in the office looked annoyed that his counting ability was being put into question, but if nothing else Lang had a natural talent for verifying and sorting large amounts of cash. The notes slipped through his fingers and fell into neat piles with machine efficiency. In less than a minute, Lang tapped the last pile against the counter to straighten it and, satisfied with the fee, quickly began affixing elastic bands around each one before scooping them into a duffel bag. Red, a few tiny splints and bandages wrapped around her legs, bounced happily on his shoulder. "Pleasure doing business with you," he said, nodding towards the officer with a tip of his hat. The same officer merely rolled his eyes and went to go lock the now much depleted safe they held at the base. He got a mix of looks from the Marine staff. Some were clearly appreciative, and asked to shake his hand, while others looked down at the duffel bag with a look of clear disapproval as if he was carrying away their own wages. It was a common occurrence, in Lang's experience. Some believed in justice for justice's sake and took issue with the matter of payment. He tried not to let it bother him, even if Red returned the hostility with an array of hissing and raised forelegs. Lang soon arrived at a crossroads. To his left was the exit, and to his right the cells. Technically he had been requested, but a request was not an order. There was no real obligation for Lang to stay. He could simply take his money, go back to the ship and make his way to verdant lands anew, putting the business of Cactus behind him as he had done plenty of other times. But, on the other hand, he did owe Eileen somewhat. He checked a watch, sighed, and stroked lightly at Red's head. "We won't be too long, I promise," he told her, before turning right. There wasn't much left for Lang to catch. A few words from Augusta, and her friend that had played such an indirect role in everything, before the former was lead away in shame. It was difficult to feel hope for Augusta, that the future would be kind to her, despite what he had said. Given some supplies in prison, he was sure she could follow up on her dreams, even if she was confined to a cell, but at the same time she was not someone well built for prison. A pirate only in name, really. Henry would have fared better, no doubt, but then, he didn't have that luxury. Lang cast a sidelong glance at Eileen, then sucked on his inner cheek as he pondered a response. There wasn't really much happiness to be spread, that wouldn't fall flat and hollow. He opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. What was their to say that Eileen hadn't already considered or knew? She was a Marine. 'Trained as an assassin,' no less. Killing was a part of the job. It didn't take Lang to point out that an issue with killing, or inability to get over it, stood at odds with her chosen field of expertise. Nor was there any silver lining to be had, not without tearing and twisting it into something unrecognizable, far removed, and entirely disingenuous. Her traumas were her own, and the scars would heal, if not disappear, all in good time. Such was the nature of the Grandline. He remained silent, until asked an actual question. The question, as it were. The big one looming over the entire island like a rain cloud waiting to burst, to shower the people with a cold truth, but one that washed away all the lies. Or at least, it would, were that the case. Lang did not quite think so. He shrugged, softly. "Do I think the island deserved to know the real history, or the rule truth? They aren't one and the same, and I think they already know the latter. Maybe the seed of their beliefs and culture came from a falsehood, but at the end of the day they've still bloomed into something unique and independent. You can try pull the rug from under a statue, Eileen, but with how big its become, you're not going to topple it." Zoe sat and pondered in the cell for a short while, then bowed her head and began to murmur to herself in pray. "Trying to decide the destiny of a people we are neither part of, nor fully understand, tends to go down as a cultural faux pas of the highest order. But if I had to speculate, it would be a pointless endeavor anyway, because it was never about the historical facts in the first place. This place, this island, is one that mourns the dead. Plural, universal, all inclusive. They don't just mourn these dead, the graves that litter the mountains, they mourn death itself; from the Uprising of twenty years ago to the Bright-Eyes War of today, they'll give their respects to everyone who passes on. And with how much conflict this ocean- or rather this world experiences, perhaps that is a good thing." Again he shrugged. His fingers traced a circle around the slight bump in the center of his chest as he stared off beyond Zoe, the cell, and into the past. "People need to mourn. For themselves, and for others. Being able to stop for just a moment, pause all the fighting, and find somewhere with kindred spirits that understand your pain, can help your journey through that pain, might just be a blessing that some people need." Slowly, Lang shook his head and looked again to Eileen. "So do I think the island deserved to know the real truth? Not especially, because I think its a moot point either way." |
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| ♦ SoIo | Aug 20 2017, 07:15 PM Post #64 | ||||||||||||
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He was right, to some extent. Eileen simply absorbed everything that Lang said as she continued to stare at Zoe's praying. "So, what you're saying is that despite this island's deeply established culture of endless mourning and praying, it is a correct culture that is not only applicable to this island, but to the entire world? Having people know about the real truth about this island would have been pointless anyways. Besides..." Lang did not seem to have pointed this out, but he most likely believed in it. "I'm not sure if his plan would have changed the culture anyway...at least, it wouldn't have changed it for the better." She didn't like the culture of the island. Deep down, she knew there was capability of changing it for the better. But the grand scope of culture could never change instantly, unless something very evil happened. And that is what Eileen was fighting against: Evil. Her ears perked. The Captain walked into the vicinity. He looked around the room, seeming to make sure that there was nothing else that could listen to them. Eileen decided to avoid eye contact, holding out her own implications. The captain nodded his head in greetings. "Langsam. Eileen. Thank you for saving this island. You should both be viewed as heroes for this island. If Henry's plan was carried out fully, the results would have been absolutely catastrophic. I am indebted to you." Eileen almost winced upon hearing Henry's name, but she kept her composure. The Captain remained silent for a brief moment. She knew what he was thinking about. He let out a soft sigh before continuing. "Now with that said, there are more pressing matters that come from the Marine protocol, and as Captain, it is my duty to debrief you. It has come to my attention that the two of you have been divulged in information that is deemed highly classified by the World Government. You are aware that this island used to be-" Oh for fuck's sake, he's really pushing back the inevitable. "Part of the King of the Pirates' journey, in fact the very first island in the Grand Line. This island used to be ruled by bounty hunters, killing pirates and burying them here before their plan was foiled by the Strawhats. Yes, we know about that." Eileen looked away at the window and the two made fierce eye contact. She definitely took him by surprise as she had never seen the Captain caught off guard. "Is there a problem, Eileen?" "Yes, there is. Are the lives of a thousand people worth ruining to cover up true history?" She was on a roll. Her sassy attitude began to make crinkles on the Captain's surprised face. It was as if a brick had slammed onto his face. Eileen crossed her arms in what seemed to be awkward silence. Finally, the Captain cleared his throat and broke it. "I am not going to deny the questionable ethicality behind what is done here in Cactus Island. I am only following orders...but Eileen, we are talking about the King of the Pirates here. Do you not realize what he has done?" Why was she so pissed? Why did she felt that this culture was so wrong, despite it being 'unique and independent'? The question posed by the Captain may have helped in her answer. Everything she's known about the Strawhats so far; their actions have been far more good-hearted than what the Marines were capable of. It just didn't sit right with her that something like this should be kept hidden. However, Eileen instead responded idly. "I do realize..." "Then you must understand why this is necessary. Perhaps...in the future, we can do something about the culture." Eileen simply nodded. She could feel a taste of bitterness from the Captain, but the man proceeded with his order. "Now...with this confidential information, I will need your word that you will keep it confidential. No one more will know about this. We will be carefully observing the two of you, especially you Langsam." Now he pointed his attention to the bounty hunter. "You are not associated with the Marines, so this makes the situation more complicated. That said, you are a trusted ally, but you are not bound by resources that would allow us to monitor Marines. We will require from you weekly check-ins with us. If all goes well, we'll gradually reduce the rate of those required visits." His glance then shadowed over Eileen. He now addressed the two of them. "Compromising the confidentiality of this information will lead to immediate termination and definite prosecution. If I hear anything about the King of the Pirates in relation to this island, the World Government will hunt you down. Do I make myself clear?" Eileen felt stiff. She could feel the Captain's sudden grave tone tingle down her spine. Of course, using fear to dictate actions. Especially for something as disturbing as this. How does this make us any different than pirates? She slowly and unsurely nodded in response. "Good. I wish you the best in your adventures, Langsam. Eileen, I believe you have another week here. Report to my office tomorrow for your next task. I would like you to take the day off today to cool down. You've worked hard enough." Eileen could tell the Captain was trying to be reassuring to make up for his sullen threat. But her expression remained serious and simply lost. The Captain departed from the room, leaving both Eileen and Lang alone. It took a few seconds for her to process the Captain's words. She let out a sigh before opening up to Lang. "What a killjoy...I guess this is what we get for saving an island." |
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I'm going to be less active as of 9/25/17. Kinda hitting a point where I'm contemplating why I'm here while having a full-time job. OPRP Character Builder Tool (Last Updated: June 2017) Eileen Falkner Jessabelle Adams Ray Solo PSA | |||||||||||||
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| ♥ Bright | Aug 27 2017, 07:50 AM Post #65 | ||||||||||||
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It was all Lang could do to stop his eyes rolling like a firework spinner. The Captain was, of course, only doing his job and surely didn't mean any inconvenience or malice behind the helicopter mothering, even if it were a humongous pain to have to deal with. "All due respect, Captain, I'm already bound to keeping far greater and far more relevant little secrets for the Government." He sighed and hefted the duffel bag for comfort. "Still, if it makes you sleep easier at night I'll be sure to come show you my hands so you know I haven't been spreading crumbs from the cookie jar. I only went through a hallucinatory nightmare to stop those truths getting out, after all. With or without Marine retaliation, I'd certainly be burning my own paintings to go and blabber about all the fun and games we had here." Everything from Lang's tongue to the lour of his eyes were dripping with sarcasm, sarcasm that was admittedly a little undeserved. Again, the Captain had meant no offense by the requirements lain out for Lang, it was merely bureaucratic necessity. All the same, the lack of trust on the Marines part as a whole was a frustrating blow to have to endure on top of all the others. After everything on Merrimont, Lang ought have the shiniest of gold stickers on his file. But, then again he supposed, that would mean one department revealing the very secrets he was meant to keep under wraps to another department. A shame it wasn't some single, amorphous entity, but such was the nature of things. Despite his best attempts, Lang was not afraid of the Captain or his threats. Even without Merrimont, there really wasn't much the man could say or do that stood up to what they'd both just went through in terms of sheer fear factor. All there was to it was to begrudgingly accept and let the rusty cogs of authority slowly grind on as inefficiently as possible. The Captain, satisfied, left them be. Lang sniffed with boredom and hefted the bag again, before turning to smirk at Eileen. "What you get, perhaps. Personally I feel I'm due a little more given the scale this affair grew to, but its a nice sum all the same. You might consider a change in profession, Eileen; you'd be good at the hunting business." His smirk continued and Lang started to make his way out of the building to the now fresh, perfectly safe air outside. "I'm only half-joking, mind. You've already seen for yourself that the whole justice thing isn't quite as white and pure as the coats would suggest." He gestured, arms wide, at himself and his own, darker coat. "Not to say the bounty hunting side is full of the most noblest of souls, far from it. It is, however, considerably more honest. We don't tend to dance around our intentions and agendas." He ended the spiel with a shrug. In the end, whether Eileen chose to retire from her current career or not was largely irrelevant to Lang. He could put in a good word to some potential employers if that was indeed a route she was considering, but he severely doubted they'd be working together again, or at least not for the immediate future. Cactus Island, though it turned into far more than he had anticipated, was nonetheless a wide, appreciated stepping stone between unstable bits of flotsam. It was nice to be able to snag some less experienced fish from the raging waters without having to worry too much about losing his balance and falling in to that chaos. He'd come very close with Merrimont, he didn't want to tempt fate and flip that coin again so soon. If only he knew what the future held. "Well," Lang announced once he was outside in the sunshine. The Wind Rider sat patiently, all stocked up with new ware to hark elsewhere and, no doubt, plenty of catastrophe for Walter to cause. Such was the nature of things. "I'm already late. I shouldn't keep the rest of my crew waiting. Even I get orders from time to time. It was good working with you, Eileen. You've an able mind and a strong set of muscles to back it up. I've little doubt, and I do wish, that you'll go far." He held out a hand for her to shake and smiled. Red, too scurried down his arm and clung to his fingers, wanting to take part in the small embrace too. There was a lot of respect in the gesture, and Lang could only hope that it was returned in kind, even if they did live on somewhat opposing sides of a similar coin. |
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| ♦ SoIo | Aug 28 2017, 06:14 PM Post #66 | ||||||||||||
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"Trust me, Lang. If I knew bounty hunting was something honest and passionate, I would have done it quite a while ago." Eileen continued to stare at the departing Captain as Lang did not respond too kindly (in fact, rightly condescending) to his orders. She could only imagine what the Captain was thinking after his words. After all, bounty hunters live off of whatever they hunt. Though, that said... "You lot are very unpredictable. And unpredictability leads to instability. Though I do have to admit, there are very few good men like you and I've had the blessing to meet such a person." She shared the same sentiment as the Captain, though she felt more morally obligated. That said, it did trouble her of the future decisions she would have to make if she ever climbed up in the ranks. What if the Captain was like her once? For now, it was an afterthought she would have to delve into later. When Lang extended his hand for a departing shake, Eileen warmly accepted. She took the hand and glanced up. She carefully studied his weary expression and his intuitive eyes. She tried to remember as much of it as possible before he would leave. "I chose a field where I feel I could have a larger impact. The Marines complement my style in making said impacts. Nothing is perfect, even people who fight for justice. That's something both of us understand." She let go of his hand after what felt like an endearing moment. "You and I are uniquely different, yet we think similarly. And there is nothing wrong with that." She smiled upon the bounty hunter and beamed at him. "Thank you, Lang. I am immensely grateful for your service and getting to meet you. I wish you and the Jacks the best in your endeavors. I do hope we meet again in the near future." "And with this, we have elected a new head priest of Cactus Island!" Light applauses creeped out of the audience as the concluding ceremony commenced. Eileen watched the new head priest with steel eyes. He was fitted with a new white cloak as the deacons and priests all bowed their heads and shook his hand in congratulations. She and about 15 other Marines surrounded the area, conducting guard duty for the proceedings. She let out a soft sigh and crossed her arms in subtle disdain. She was communicating softly through the Den Den Mushi, receiving updates from the other Marines. It was so far peaceful...just like how it was since the previous week. Besides watching over some recently rattled citizens, the Lieutenant was mainly contemplating in peace. She had been tasked for the remainder of the week to oversee cleanup of the graffiti, vandalized tombs, and the election of what seemed to be a continuation of this sickening culture. Though, she spent a good majority of that time of just...thinking. Thinking about evilness, and how it was prevalent in both sides of the fight. How it was prevalent in both pirates and Marines. In Loguetown, she had went up against a pirate who sought revenge of his crew against the Marines. However, said pirate was killed by a corrupt Marine captain. The captain's name and face was still seared into her head. Brandon... Now, in this situation: She went up against another Marine who was killed for trying to tell the truth. This time instead, Eileen was the one to murder him. Not everyone appears evil as they seem...and not everyone appears good as they seem. She was concerned...concerned about her future. I wanted to do good for the world...but will I ever be evil...? What will happen to me? She looked at her hand and stared at it for a bit. Her mind began to slightly daze. When she shook her head again, she saw Captain Brandon's heavy hand in replacement of hers. She let out a soft gasp as she closed her eyes. She shook her head in disbelief and tried to shake the thought out. No, I can't be him. I can never be him...! I can never be evil... "Lieutenant...? We're finished here." She snapped out of her internal thoughts as she was brought back to reality. She quickly turned her head towards a quizzical Ensign Marine, who looked at her with concern. Eileen glanced at her hand, which was now normal and hers. She let out a relieved exhale as she straightened herself up. "Are you alright, ma'm?" "...Yes, I'm fine." *RING* *RING* *RING* "...Hello?" "Dad..." "Well...if it isn't my sweet Eileen. Excuse me for a bit..." Eileen was on the deck of a Marine ship, standing specifically at its tail and above the engine. She relaxed her arms on the railings, holding out her Marine provided Mushi. With sullen eyes, she watched Cactus Island grow smaller and smaller. With each passing meter that passed, a feeling of depression also dissipated. But her spirit still remained cracked and slow to heal. "Sorry about that...I usually don't get calls that often from family members. I guess it's just like that as a captain." She could hear a soft, yet hearty chuckle. She had to wonder...how much did he know about the island? "How are you?" The thought of the Cactus Island Captain's words still reverberated through her head. She was ordered to keep this incident silent to herself...yet, the feeling of compassion urged her to continue speaking. "Dad...how much do you know about the history of Cactus Island? Or just...I guess disrespecting the dead." |
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I'm going to be less active as of 9/25/17. Kinda hitting a point where I'm contemplating why I'm here while having a full-time job. OPRP Character Builder Tool (Last Updated: June 2017) Eileen Falkner Jessabelle Adams Ray Solo PSA | |||||||||||||
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| ♦ Franky | Nov 6 2017, 09:41 AM Post #67 | ||||||||||||
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Thank you for your patience. Your storyline has been reviewed.
SL Notes
Edited by Franky, Nov 6 2017, 11:46 AM.
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“We all need to be mocked from time to time Lord Mormont lest we start to take ourselves too seriously.” - Tyrion Lannister Braidbeard Grey Hunter Top Hat
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