Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh
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Is mimic a bhris beal duine a shron - often a person's mouth gets their nose broke
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Affiliation: Oglaigh na Irandoideanne - Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh on Apr 23, 2021 18:06:09 GMT -8
*In Boland's haste, himself and Grace actually beat Morrigan to the ship. Instinctively he drapped the stretch of lace across the how of small tree planted on a sidewalk. He stood, right palm on Grace's back. Having been literally tore from.seat, dragged from the ship the across a stretch of cityscape to where they now stood Grace resisted her wicked violent streak and did not drive a dagger through Boland's heart. Maureen stopped beside Boland. Looking up at the man then back to the ship, she hugged the giant dog now sitting beside her, whispering in his ear casually* -Maureen- "Morrigan's gonna beat the insect ship up." *At that moment Grace was struck with the name of the name of a pest from her youth a said bewildered* -Grace- "Imperial moth?" *Odd She thought but swept it aside and went back to silently waiting*
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Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh
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Is mimic a bhris beal duine a shron - often a person's mouth gets their nose broke
Posts: 715
Affiliation: Oglaigh na Irandoideanne - Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh on Apr 23, 2021 18:52:41 GMT -8
Double post; my bad
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Apr 23, 2021 19:15:59 GMT -8
*Walking up she stopped looking to each side. Noticing the string of lace she snatched it in hand, thenbending set the bottles down standing on the ground. Binding one three times found she knotted it tight then stood, strong of lace in hands. Clearing throat she pronounced forcefully* -Morrigan- "And from this day forward let this ship be know as The Iron Butterfly!!!" *With that she deftly swung the bottle up, bringing it down forcefully on the ship. The bottle smashed asunder, fragments of glass and drops of champagne flying in every direction. Dropping the cord, she snatched up the second bottle, popping the cap and downing a mouthful she extended it to Plunkett*
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Lámh Dhearg Manaan
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Post by Lámh Dhearg Manaan on Apr 23, 2021 19:51:41 GMT -8
*While several of his men hurriedly cleaned up what they could around them, Plunkett accepted the bottle with a deep now and drank from it then passed it to the Colonel*
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Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna
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Post by Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna on Apr 23, 2021 20:03:01 GMT -8
*Colonel O'Dubhui took the bottle and downed a shot, passing it to Sgt Slaughter, who too imbibed in a hit. Bottles cracked open around the ship and the celebrating commenced. The bodhran beat in the background and uilleann pipes screeched. O'Dubhui stepped back waiting for the call*
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Post by Ciarán Dubh & Laoch Bán Dubh on Apr 23, 2021 20:16:02 GMT -8
*Laoch watched the ceremony quietly. We things wound down to a mild exchange of alcohol he backed into the shadows. Kieran too paid homage to the christening but slipped away following that. They were not gone but avoided the limelight of the whole experience. Both still had a gun drawn; both watched intensely*
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Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh
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Is mimic a bhris beal duine a shron - often a person's mouth gets their nose broke
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Affiliation: Oglaigh na Irandoideanne - Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh on Apr 23, 2021 21:21:05 GMT -8
*The ceremony was interesting, thought Grace. She passed on bottle passed to her by some sailor but Boland took a hit. Leaning to her he said* -Boland- "Let's split." * Too much in agreement, Grace turned, this time her dragging him. The hound pulled Maureen along and they were gone*
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Apr 24, 2021 14:41:14 GMT -8
A Sentinel class landing craft landed. On the land. O'Rathallie stood, hair blowing the wind, although the hatch still being shut it had nothing to blow it, turning to the crew and saying with authority. -O'Rathallie- "You two stay in here." Both the pilot and co-pilot stood, guns drawn: -Pilot- "Listen fruitcake, you're dumber than you look it you think that we're going out there..." O'Rathallie , unrattlled by the display of insolence, turned and opening his arms the hatch flew open, which would be some awesome if own missed the co-pilot hitting the button to open the exit. The celebrated Bard walked from the ship. His entourage of two scribes and eight Druidesses followed quietly bhind. The pilot addressing his codename said: "We have enough food and beer to last for quite some time.... Let those tools play footsie with dynamite...." The pair laughed Hardy laughter, lighting cigarettes and returned to playing crib. Not looking left not right the Storyteller walked tall towards the place where Morrigan sat
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Lámh Dhearg Manaan
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Post by Lámh Dhearg Manaan on Apr 24, 2021 17:51:46 GMT -8
*As The ship landed guns trained on it ready to shoot anyone exiting. When O'Rathahisllie appeared Plunkett howled* -Plunkett- "Drop the guns. His troops listened. As The Sean chi and his party walked along Plunkett waved two Togs over to him and they followed behind the group into Juvex City*
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Lámh Dhearg Manaan
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Post by Lámh Dhearg Manaan on Apr 24, 2021 20:32:31 GMT -8
*While Plunkett and two of the other commando were off galavanting around the boys back at the Warior camp patrolled and toyed with the ship. Two men scrubbing was into the Iron Butterfly grumbled about their lot in life* -Commando 1- "You know if we scrub one more layer away from this freaking thing we'll be sitting in the cockpit...." *That got his partner musing* "Sitting in the cockpit eh? Might not be a bad idea...." If The Iron Butterfly shined any more than it already did they'd have to set up a task force just to sweep up the birds that died trying to fly through it. The Sentinel attracted significant attention. Togs cautiously circled and sniffed the vehicle, which appeared to them to be rigged with audio.... This was in fact the Pilot and his first mate, the Co-pilot(And no, we are not calling them Skipper and Gilligan). Now half crazed from stir and thoroughly inebriated the two watched with terror as the giant furry man creatures prosper ominously around their aptly named ship, The Dead Duck. With the flick of a switch opening up the external intercom and cranking the volume button to MAX the co-pilot calmly stated* -Co- pilo- "Nothing to see here...." * Thinking fast he ran to the kitchenette. Fish and chips last meal. Maybe they could smell it.... Rooting through the trash he pulled two healthy pieces then ran, pulling down on a lever. A drawer opened and he tossed the rancid fish inside then shut the door. On the outside Togs curiously circled the ship. They knew who exited the ship. They had thoroughly examined the exterior. What remained a mystery was what, it anything, lurked inside. The fish was ejected. What followed was reminiscent of watching sharks in a feeding frenzy on the Learing Channel. Togs wrestled bit and scratched each other in a heroic effort to claim a piece of fish....As they say watching, the pilot said enthusiastically* -Pilot- "Good job my man, this is actually kindda cool..." ***Crew moved with OoC permission
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Lámh Dhearg Manaan
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Post by Lámh Dhearg Manaan on Apr 27, 2021 21:41:29 GMT -8
Plunkett and his men heard the shots. Plunkett made a fast call from his Comm. He was briefed. He barffed. A Tog ran to him. Helped him. Asked if he was ok. Plunkett never felt lower his entire life than when that young soldier helped him. He finally cut the Comm. Taking the young Tog by shoulders he spoke -Plunkett- "Son.... Togoria is gone...." Plunkett was in a hit of shock. He actually wanted to discuss going to Togoria with O'Dubhui. The Tog's face seemed to crack. The Wail would have rivaled the Pipes of Pan. Plunkett did not mess around. Gathered his troops. Had them place guns, knifes grenades in a pile. Few forks. Got them to assemble sitting. They looked so young. Eyes welling up he spoke -Plunkett- "Gentlemen.... Togoria is... Gone." The absolute nothingness was perhaps worse than an emotional outpouring of grief. The first man who began to weep openly was almost, as sick as it sounds, a relief to Plunkett. Still watching anyone cry was hard. A enormous warrior diminished to a sobbing heap of flesh tore the heart. An entire planet - and every wonderful living thing on it. That was horrifying.In war you killed other living beings. You couldn't avoid that bitter reality; we slay out brothers, or sisters in arms. And Plunkett hated that terrible reality. But an entire planet inhabited by sentient beings? Plunkett did not stand over them. Just seemed wrong. Turning he equated down feet flat sitting on his calves. Right thumb and index running eyes then settled on his chin
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Lámh Dhearg Manaan
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Post by Lámh Dhearg Manaan on Apr 28, 2021 12:48:19 GMT -8
On Plunkett's side the situation was horrific. Two hangings that night. One commando shot himself and yet another ripped open the inside of his left leg with sc'rath, bleeding out in minutes. The bodies, now bagged sat piled delicately in an open hand drawn cart. Plunkett reported the incidents to O'Dubhui. Information was exchanged and a pit, approximately 12 meters long, 3 1/2 wide and2 1/2 deep. Plunkett waited, silently
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Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna
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Post by Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna on Apr 28, 2021 18:59:38 GMT -8
*The procession walked up on Plunkett, his men and the awaiting earthen tomb. The bodies of seven proud Warrios were laid out gently in their earthen bed here by their brothers of Oglaigh na Irandoideanne. The three remaining line d up with Colonel O'Dubhui and Sgt Slaughter The bodhran beat low in the backdrop as O Miorbhail grais shrieked from the lone pipe....
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Post by Ciarán Dubh & Laoch Bán Dubh on Apr 28, 2021 19:32:20 GMT -8
Kieran and Laoch lined up against the grave. Not a word escaped either man's mouth. Not a sound. The pair just looked blankly at the victims of their mistaken move
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Apr 28, 2021 19:48:27 GMT -8
Morrigan walked quietly and stoped looking down at the body bags. A man in each. She had been at many a funeral. But each one a a certain significance. Finding the sense in all this before her was hard to find. They were so young! Hand throwing back hair she steeped herself. This was the will of the Force.... That only left her empty rather than give any closure. The great Universe was not static and terrible it might be but everything came to this in the end. Ashes to ashes; dust to dust. How see feared this Adobe nothing else.... The Old man's voice rose up 'They're the dead; stop feeling sorry for yourself Morrigan....' It still was an horrible waste of fine young soldiery.... She silently observed....
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Lámh Dhearg Manaan
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Post by Lámh Dhearg Manaan on Apr 28, 2021 19:55:53 GMT -8
Next Plunkett and his crew lined up along the edge. The utter defeat in every face spoke volumes in it's stilence. Not a man moved, standing tall too attention. Waiting
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Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh
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Is mimic a bhris beal duine a shron - often a person's mouth gets their nose broke
Posts: 715
Affiliation: Oglaigh na Irandoideanne - Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh on Apr 28, 2021 20:21:17 GMT -8
*The Juvex version of the Von Trap family... perhaps The Adams Family followed along behind. Grace with The Raven on left shoulder and Boland on her right. Maureen stood solemnly with The hound sitting beside. A shovel stood in the ground at either end of the trenchen grave. Boland prayed that Maureen would not scream asking him what the shovels were for... or worse. But she said nothing. What Maureen did do was think about being dead once....
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Apr 28, 2021 21:44:11 GMT -8
Morrigan bent over snatching a handful of soil and tossing it into the grave. After making a hand gesture with hands she turned and walked away.
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Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna
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Post by Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna on Apr 28, 2021 22:01:09 GMT -8
*Colonel O'Dubhui hanging over tossed a handful of dirt on the bodies, turned and left. Sgt Slaughter stopped down, picked up then toyed with a handful of earth. Looking down reflecting he finally let the earth fall on the dead bellow. Standing he walked briskly away. The three Togs who remaining from Oglaigh na Irandoideanne all bent over snatching a handful of soil so I'm sync it appeared like the move was choreographed. All were their own man however. The first pitcher his fistful of soil down and was gone before it struck the waiting bodies. The next Tog in line stood frozen over the pit full of bodies looking down. The third, after throwing his offering, turned taking the hand of his brother in arms and helped him empty the soil on their departed. He then led the other Togs away* Alba an Aigh rang from the pipes
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Lámh Dhearg Manaan
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Post by Lámh Dhearg Manaan on Apr 28, 2021 22:28:21 GMT -8
*Lamh Dhearg Manaan could be used in some quarters as the term to describe discipline. When Ltd. Plunkett bent over to pick a handful of dirt so to did his men. They all tossed their fistful of soil at The same time. And so men saluted The grave before turning and matching away from the site. It was arresting and it was heart wrenching
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