Latest Roleplays
October 2013
Nordic House
Reykjavík, Iceland
“I need you to run this by me again, brother Xander…why are we here, again?”
On this chilly night in the capital city, the question is a fair one asked by Xander’s young associate Thomas Crowne, a man he met shortly upon joining the Circle mere months prior. As they step into the main building of this cultural center, Xander chuckles before responding.
“When I was presented with this chase for the Dragon’s Blade, I had no idea it would involve literally searching all over the world for our target. After all, if there’s one thing I know about Mr. Gunn it’s that he’s a bit of a globetrotter. Years of running a large international venture will do that, brother Thomas.”
Thomas gives a nod of understanding.
“Of course. But he was last seen in Ireland, so I have to ask…did you misread the location?”
Xander lets out a belter of a laugh at this, slapping his associate on the back in amazement.
“Now see, Thom, I knew you had a bit of humor in ya. No, I didn’t misread…I’m here looking to research and recruit.”
He motions to the nearby library with a smile on his face.
“I have an old colleague that lives somewhere around here, and I could use the muscle in case things go sideways with Mr. Gunn. He’s eluded previous attempts to capture the Blade, so it doesn’t hurt to come prepared.”
Another nod of acknowledgement from the younger associate, before the pair head to the library…only to be booted just a moment later by what appears to be the head librarian, yelling something at them in Icelandic before disappearing back into the building. Xander simply shrugs this off with another smile.
“How foolish of me, Thom…I guess I should’ve brought a library card. Still, I got what I needed.”
With this he pulls out a sheet of paper from his coat, with some scribbled handwriting that appears to be directions to a nearby tavern.
When you’re on the chase, you need absolute and total confidence and trust in your allies. This is nothing new to me, but I suspect it’s a foreign concept to you, Jatt Starr.
After all, you have aligned yourself with men that would betray you in a heartbeat. Just look at anyone who so much as slacks off within the ranks.
Men like Cancer Jiles, who got the boot immediately from the Alliance…or Steve Solex, who got shipped off to Alcatraz because there’s “nothing else that can be done.”
And yet, for some reason, you push on.
You continue to spread the lies of your so-called GOD, and you expect everyone to roll over and accept your word as gospel.
Someone has to push back…and it might as well be me.
I knew what I was doing when I first stepped into your failed Starrgazing experiment, Jatt. You wanted to gloat about your recovery, which was why you approached Clay Byrd first…and when that failed, you pivoted into a plan to rile someone up as your first act as the self-proclaimed Health and Nutrition Liaison.
I saw the irony in the situation, and I simply took advantage.
No one who seems to be out of action more than he’s competed this year deserves to call himself a liaison of health and nutrition, Jatt.
But I’m glad you’re all healed up now, chomping at the bit to prove you still deserve the fame of being a legend of this company…because it’ll make beating you within an inch of your life all the sweeter come Bottomline.
I have a nasty habit of making the Best Alliance eat crow, and it’s not one I’m looking to kick anytime soon.
Just ask Steve Harrison, who got embarrassed by the hand of the Head Disciple. I’d say ask Steve Solex, but he’s behind bars.
But you, oh grand Jatthoven? You’ve managed to piss me off even more than anyone else up to this point.
You tried to ruin the good name of my goddess with your filth, letting your cronies try to destroy the image of what I hold dear.
But, as they say, every good turn deserves another…and you’re getting yours in Chicago.
If I can think of one thing greater than getting my revenge on you for your transgressions, it’s knowing that a win over a Hall of Famer also comes with some nice little perks.
Maybe a little respect on my name. Maybe some better attention to my cause.
But most of all, some much-needed assurance.
You see, Starrsky, I’ve got one eye on making you pay for your treachery…and the other on those rankings.
Lee Best hit the nail on the head when he booked this match, I’m nearly dead-last…a joke amongst the rest of the roster.
But not after Bottomline. Not after I beat a former Tag Team and LSD Champion to start my next chase…a chase for the gold.
Not for my glory, but for my goddess.
She will be given the sacrifice she craves when I decimate you in front of everyone you think cares about you so much.
When it’s all said and done, she will be pleased.
Praise Eris, glory to her name. Hail Discordia, nothing is the same.
October 2013
Bastard Brew & Food
Reykjavík, Iceland
“Hello, Vagn Dahl…it’s been a while.”
We see Xander with a smirk on his face, standing toe to toe with an angry German hoss who gives him the murder glare before saying something angrily in his native tongue. Xander, who never quite took up the language for study, chuckles at the realization that he is facing an uncertain situation when the large man barks at him in English.
“I said, what do you want!?”
This simply makes Xander smile once again.
“Oh good, you do speak English. I know you’ve been busy doing…whatever the hell it is you’ve been doing in the past few months, but I want to offer you an opportunity.”
Vagn simply furrows his brow at this.
“What opportunity would you propose?”
“An opportunity to be a part of something bigger than yourself, as surprising as that might sound. A chance to join a cause that could use a man of your talents. I’m building an army, and this army needs a general. What say you?”
Vagn takes a step toward the man proposing this offer, giving us a sense of just how intimidating he can be…but we are left to fill in the blanks on where this goes, as we fade to black.