Doctor Azure
Cobalt Durasteel
Thryk was, as usual, haunting the streets of Keldabe by himself. What was wrong with him? He had a ship, a bunch of sharp objects and things that went boom, and two hands and a brain with which to use them. His body was pretty much intact, and he was proud of the dented old armor he had.
So what was missing? He had friends, albeit the kind of friends who didn't like to stick around when trouble started, and he had plenty of enemies. He had, on occasion, had a girlfriend or two, but he'd ended up as more of a guard dog than anything else. And that was the ones who didn't scream at the sight of his furry face when he took off his helmet, or blanch when they saw his full height.
That was it. He'd figured it out: He was cuddle-deprived, sober, and had had a distinct lack of things to blow up on Keldabe. He shrugged, and resolved to fix at least one of those problems today. He stepped into a nearby pub, sat down, and ordered something that was probably highly acidic.
[member='Anastasia Rade']
So what was missing? He had friends, albeit the kind of friends who didn't like to stick around when trouble started, and he had plenty of enemies. He had, on occasion, had a girlfriend or two, but he'd ended up as more of a guard dog than anything else. And that was the ones who didn't scream at the sight of his furry face when he took off his helmet, or blanch when they saw his full height.
That was it. He'd figured it out: He was cuddle-deprived, sober, and had had a distinct lack of things to blow up on Keldabe. He shrugged, and resolved to fix at least one of those problems today. He stepped into a nearby pub, sat down, and ordered something that was probably highly acidic.
[member='Anastasia Rade']