it started in the hayloft a-creaking (o)
Nate Wrenzaok
the Lone (Free) Ranger
"Doctor" / Guildmaster

Age: 37 | Height: 6'1" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 55 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 50 - Luck: 46 - Int: 1
PEMOTA - Mythical - Starwhale (narwhal) RAMOTH - Mythical - Dragon (Biopulse)
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#12
- NATE -
i'm shaking, salvation
i'm flying faster and faster and i...
The grin curls into a sneer, the shadow rippling across the kids face doing nothing to improve Nate's mood, as much as it can affect him at all. There's a flash in his eyes, a bright flame of challenge. A dare, for Rigby to voice whatever it was that darkened his thoughts, whether it be criticism purely for the Voice, or all the gods.

"Please, I survived one assassination attempt, I can do another." Nate only just barely resists the urge to gesture up towards the scar that bisects his face, that had claimed half his sight not too long ago. He does reach up to pull the cigarette away from his lips though, smoke wrapping around his words. "Besides, people like me have a hell of a lot more going for us than any of those cunts think." It had taken him time to come around to this point, but he's willing to go to bat for his goddess now, willing to defend her name, apparently.

Ordinarily, Nate wouldn't bother any past this, but he had the time, had the inclination to poke and argue and snap. "What makes you think some culty fucks stand a chance?"
i was the darkness and you were the light
tear it apart and then we supercollide


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RE: it started in the hayloft a-creaking (o) - by Nate - 12-29-2020, 07:11 AM

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