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 12:01:55 GMT -8
*The hound ambling at her side, easily shifting and turning with every move, Maureen waltzed around the camp, oblivious to everything. Now sitting in front of the Utopic Vulture, Boland, with an eye trained in years with the Special Forces, watched the scene unwind. It was like a ballet play out. Having performed Close Protection himself, the man was impressed. Master Yoda and Exar Kun, allied in some unholy if equally unlikely pair, armed with the finest sniper rifles available, would find it near impossible to tag the woman. He muttered* -Boland- "Did you just watch that?" *Grace, certainly nowhere near as formally trained as Boland, nonetheless caught enough of the exchange, stated* -Grace- "Sure.... She moved, then Sgt. Slander and Colonel Sanders there ran over to save her ass. " *Boland's left palm smacking his forehead* -Boland- "You are joking - right?" *Face turning to Grace* -Boland- "That was like watching a team of synchronized swimmers with AK 47s." *Mind moving a mile a minute Boland turned his sight back out on the city and lit a cigarette. Following suit Grace lit up too and daydreams of being off this Rock.... Now perched on Grace's left shoulder, The Raven watched. Even the Otherworldly entity was impressed by the how everything played out*
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Post by Ciarán Dubh & Laoch Bán Dubh on Apr 23, 2021 13:15:41 GMT -8
*Never late for the party, and far more on the ball than most would give them credit, Kieran and Laoch were standing and moving the instant that Morrigan did. Kieran, drawing pistol from left side with right hand, stopped five meters from Morrigan, eyes surveying the area. Laoch too pulling both pistols, halted approximately three meters from the woman on the opposite side. He watched nervously*
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Apr 23, 2021 16:29:05 GMT -8
*Morrigan turned to Colonel O'Dubhui, eyes widened and a rosy tint crossed crossed her face for but a second. Collecting herself a broad smile swept the flustered look away. With an upward nod* -Morrigan- "Let us go name a ship - shall we?" *The Colonel's statement left without response and not awaiting an answer to her query, she walked towards where Plunkett and his men fussed over the Warrior. Walking by a table she deftly snatched two bottles. The celebrated An Tiarna Champagne, the bubbly of tired warlords*
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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: 719
Affiliation: Oglaigh na Irandoideanne - Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh on Apr 23, 2021 17:49:00 GMT -8
*Boland was growing a slight stir crazy on the ship. Spying the movement he we need something. Fast taking Grace's right bicep in left hand he spun and headed for the nearest exit. Stopping a moment he snatched a strong of lace, maybe a meter long, that day beside a errant pile of seeing material. Then he bolted for the door, all but dragging a confused Grace with him. Maureen stood outside the ship with The hound. Eyes falling on the dog the little girl spoke* -Morrigan- "I think Boland finally snapped and he's gonna string up Grace. Come on!" And after them she flew. The Raven, now sitting on the roof of the Utopic Vulture, flew behind them*
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Apr 23, 2021 20:27:22 GMT -8
*Morrigan slipped the celebrations as fast and quietly as she could. It was not hard in all the noise rising up after. She walked quietly back to where she had came. When The hanger up YT 1300 light freighter came into her sight she felt like a little kid seeing home. At last coming upon it She took a seat in one of the chairs propped up in front of the ship. She was tired*
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Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna
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Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna ~ Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna on Apr 23, 2021 20:37:18 GMT -8
*Colonel O'Dubhui had not got his way to this rank on good looks. Truth be told, he knew full well aesthetics had nothing to do with it. He was smart. And that is why he was but a step behind Morrigan. She was his highest priority. He owed that to her Grandfather, to whom O'Dubhui owed his start. With all that established, he, Slaughter and their men returned with the lady. The men went back to duties, as he and Slaughter returned to conspiring. O'Dubhui spoke* -O'Dubhui- "I want this nonsense sorted out - like yesterday. What a mess."
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Post by Ciarán Dubh & Laoch Bán Dubh on Apr 23, 2021 20:50:54 GMT -8
*Laoch and Kieran to slipped the christening after splash and walked back into the city proper. Laoch comented* -Laoch- "Don't you find busting a good bottle of champagne a bit excessive?" *Kieran asked* -Kieran- "What you mean?" * Voice rising up Laoch expanded* -Laoch- "I don't know.... say a few prayers.... Hang up a Yoda or Emperor Palpatine ornament, depending on your philosophical point of view. But bust a bottle of booze? Good booze. That's an unnecessary waste." * Kieran laughed* -Kieran- "I can see your point." *Kieran ventured* -Kieran- "What do you do it you're Grey ?" *Laoch asked* -Laoch- "Did I hear that right?" *The waltz down insanity lane continued until there they stood in front of the YT 1300 light freighter*
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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: 719
Affiliation: Oglaigh na Irandoideanne - Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh on Apr 23, 2021 21:29:41 GMT -8
*And at long last.... They were home*
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Apr 24, 2021 9:13:12 GMT -8
*Sitting quietly lost in her thought Morrigan looked as if she'd just returned from a Battle. Worse than that was sitting still. Clapping hands together she snapped off* -Morrigan- "Maith go leor!" *Gaze seeping The small but loyal band* -Morrigan - "Where do I begin...." * The eerie shriek of the Uilleann pipe complemented the pounding of the Bodhran drum..... The War Beat beckoned all and any....*
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Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna
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Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna ~ Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna on Apr 24, 2021 15:20:54 GMT -8
*It was Slaughter who first noticed the Sentinel in the sky. He spoke* -Sgt Slaughter- "It is himself." The Colonel nodded. A great man was now among them*
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Apr 24, 2021 15:34:26 GMT -8
*Morrigan too some the band moving towards them. She had been somewhat nervous telling The Tale. She had by her own admission a big mouth but she was painfully aware that her oratory skills were nowhere near those of The Old man. The One walking towards her party now was that and ten times more. So the sight of O'Rathallie and his crew coming towards them was calming as the figure was arresting. Some would expect such a man would lol dow at the shabby scene around her. But Morrigan remembered, The Old man himself had said many atime it was the character of the people around you not the place that where you were sitting that counted. With an upward nod of Chin she spoke: "Get a chair for him...." A giant Togorian sat a chair approximately a meter to her left side. standardsShe stiffened up -Morrigan- "Uisce beatha! And a glass! Anois!!! A table, despite her having neglected was set at the right side of the chair the, a bottle of whiskey, so they called uisce in the Standard tongue, and two glasses
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Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh
Member
Is mimic a bhris beal duine a shron - often a person's mouth gets their nose broke
Posts: 719
Affiliation: Oglaigh na Irandoideanne - Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh on Apr 24, 2021 17:18:48 GMT -8
*The couple, a term we can pretty fairly place on Grace and Boland, even if the pair seem somewhat confused about just what exactly they were, stood talking as O'Rathallie approached. Boland nodded and they too took a seat, too the left of Morrigan, with Grace beside her and Boland in turn by seated at the left of Grace. The woman leaned in close asking Boland* -Grace- "Who is he?" *Boland responded* -Boland- "That's Aogan O'Rathallie; The Old Teller...." *Grace have an* -Grace- "Ohhhh him." * Which appeared to imply knowledge, while to the delicate ear implied pretty clearly that you weren't entirely clear. Boland expanded* -Boland- "A Sean chi in the tongue. Very important; The collect the oral history of a people....A family." *Boland have an upward nod* -Boland- "This man is as big as they come...." *Grace soaked up the information. She thought: 'I'm family. And if it includes me it includes Boland too.' So she sat back*
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Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna
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Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna ~ Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna on Apr 24, 2021 18:01:57 GMT -8
*Slaughter organized his men fast. A perimeter blocking any unwanted company, simple positioning to stymie long range shots and general security was established. All done quite easily, Colonel O'Dubhui now felt with his main worry; getting close enough to hear the man. Slaughter and himself simply moved their work table closer. Now they say watching*
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Post by Ciarán Dubh & Laoch Bán Dubh on Apr 24, 2021 18:12:27 GMT -8
Laoch and Kieran waltzed into the inner circle then stood two chairs in front of Morigan. Both were ultra-respectful. They knew respect
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Apr 24, 2021 18:45:58 GMT -8
Watching - waiting was about on of the most difficult things that she could be put through. It one understood the woman's history they would realise, most decisively, just how strong that distaste was indeed. So there she sat awaiting The Sean chi - Old Teller in Standard. Perhaps the most respected man in her culture. Historian but Druidic wizard too. She chewed nails.Her left leg, now tossed over right, shook like a vibrator. And she chain smoked. More than regular. She remembered An Tiarna telling her stories as a child. And she remembered the man coming doing the same. She ate up everything they said. Pouring a drink Morrigan knocked it back straight away then poured another. Butting out smoke she lit another. And there he was but then meters away. A scribe on each side and eight of the ghostly Druidesses following.... Aogan O'Rathallie. Smiling wide at Morrigan he spoke: -O'Rathallie- "Dia dhuit a Mhorrigan, cad e mar ata tu?" She responded: -Morrigan- Dia is Muire duit a hAogan. Ta me go maith ach tuirseach. Agus thu? *Shrugging* -O'Rathallie- "Ta me tuirseach ach beo beathach." *Geasturing to the table and seat* -Morrigan- "Take a seat." Aogan sat down. Two of the Druidess took his leather slippers and seemed to disipate. He poured a tall drink and lit his pipe. Seeing Laoch and Kieran standing O'Rathallie said softly* -O'Rathallie- "Sit... sit." The men sat without question . OoC permission to park Laoch and Kieran on their rears. O'Rathallie was a sharp man. From his estimate she had 30 men, give... or take. Small numbers. A lot could be done with a few good men..... But.... Taking a haul from pipe he nourished a drink. Abruptly he asked the woman -O'Rathallie - "Morrigan, still carrying around what's left of Old Blood n' Guts?" Morrigan spit everything in her mouth all over the ground. She realized then why she missed her family so little quite sporadically. Then she burst into tears overwhelmed with a bizarre mixture of home sicknesses and guilt
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Lámh Dhearg Manaan
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Post by Lámh Dhearg Manaan on Apr 24, 2021 20:26:28 GMT -8
*Plunkett and two Togorian troopers walked up on the Dubh family shindig with special guest Aogan O'Rathallie. Plunkett engaged his brethren Slaughter and O'Dubhui while the Togs patrolled several meters from them. A ball of cotton knitting thread rolled dangerously close but he it whether they commandos were to highly disciplined or low on catnip they quelled their natural feline instinct to leap, tumble, roll and chase said thread*
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Apr 25, 2021 12:20:10 GMT -8
Morrigan say in front of The Utopic Vn culture, drink in hand and cigarette during in mouth. She was calm. Better than calm. O'Rathallie brought with him many a thing. His stories brought her back to her childhood listening to the man speak. The man could make changing the spark plugs in a car sound epic. The man himself sat half in the bag but whereas such a state made most mumbling idiots scarcely able to string three words together in a sensible way being smashed drunk only seemed to enhance his already formidable oratory skills. That said the man may well be the living Encyclopedia Britannica of IF history but he was still human. Pipe burning and glass of uisce beatha in right hand his eyes scanned the gathering. A nude woman tattooed from head to toe knelt on front of him; another at his left. His scribes Eoin and Sean by name, which strangely both mean John in Standard, stood right and left respectively, taking down every word
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Post by Ciarán Dubh & Laoch Bán Dubh on Apr 25, 2021 13:38:28 GMT -8
Uillean pipe playing and bodhran pounding in the backdrop set the tone for the tribal meeting. The sun was setting we the traditional time for the telling of Fenian tales crew near.... Laoch now sat, left leg crossed over right, leaning forward with right elbow on knee and cigarette burning in hand. He watched and he listened. At his right side was Kieran, very still firmly planted on the ground. And there the big man stood eager but patiently waiting
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Apr 25, 2021 13:55:54 GMT -8
A quality of any Sean chi of salt was the ability to weave a tale so marvelously vivid it was almost as if they indeed were there at the scene of the story they told when it happened. Another central feature of the Teller's tool box was the breadth of their knowledge. When Aogan O'Rathallie spoke, so it was told, those listening held there collective breath. Still when he opened up few natives had really taken much notice. He may well have been a legend in some quarters but he was not front page news. And that was a terrible shame. Then he spoke. -O'Rathallie- "My name is Aogan O'Rathallie....." * Clearing his throat he looked up. He looked left. Taking a haul from pipe, his eyes went to the right and the old man exhaled, took a swig from glass then set it down. Eyes finally resting on the ground* "This my story." * Gaze shooting up to the cityscape* -O'Rathallie- "Since we are in the Senex-Juvex Sector let me begin with the Tale of Q'anah the Pirate Queen...." *Heads turned. Eyes of those unattentive but a moment before shot towards the voice. One Juvexian dropped what was in his hands to the ground then subsequently walked over it as he walked towards the Utopic Vulture. A crowd gathered and increasingly swelled. And what came out of the mouth of an old man sitting in front of a beat up light freighter would be spoken of for decades among the residents of Juvex City....
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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 25, 2021 15:13:36 GMT -8
*The family former of three misfit once dead by now living humans, an one eyed beauty, handsome warrior, little girl, massive wolfhound and sublime crow listened close. Maureen wheeler on the ground, arms wrapped around The Hound. Boland looking down allowed his ears to capture the words. And Grace mesmerized by the hypnotic turn of phrase studied the man with one eye wide as even The Raven, at first enduring the babbling became captured in the moment. The fire burned high, bodhran endlessly beat and distant pipe sung....
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