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132 Hazekiller

About Goob

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    Skaat Man
  • Birthday June 6

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    For the stars, my friend.
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    Stop MSN around!
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    -er. Ha, you thought I was going to say we wocky, weren't you!?
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    I think I'll Skipe this one, thank you very much

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    Saint Basil's Cathedral. Wasn't Os Alta, but you can see why I mixed them up, right?
  1. A tall, gruff man walks into the Waiting Room, bearing both a massive sword and a heavily scarred face. Curiously, both the sword and much of the lower half of his body- clad in some form of leather armor- is covered in a sickly blue-green liquid. He looks around, a puzzled expression on his wartorn face before it warps into a grimace. Composing himself, he turns to the multitude of strange looking people in the parlor with him. "What is this place?" He asks, his commanding voice booming through the room.
  2. "Yes, indeed. Studied for six years at BMU- Boringheim Moderation University, as it says on my resume."
  3. "Of course," he says, handing over the paper, and a jolt of anxiety passing through him momentarily. He knew it should be good enough to fool this doctor. He had spent weeks perfecting that piece of paper. "I can imagine, especially after he announced those four knew books."
  4. "Yes, I am." Goob sits down across from Dr. Doomie, giving him a small smile. "How are you today?"
  5. Goob looks up at the imposing structure that is the ICMBAAOM. This was going to be a tough egg to crack, he knew. The place was heavily guarded with every type of Investiture user possible and they somehow could bend the very rules itself, allowing them to strictly control all use of the stuff within it's walls. But he had to try, no? Lots of innocent people locked up in here, put on meds and emotionally restrained... it was disgusting, and all just for enjoying something. And why Brandon Sanderson books of all things? Goob had heard of fandoms far, far more obsessed with their media than Sanderson fans. I mean, all you had to do was go on Tumblr in 2014! None of that matter now, though. He had to break those people out, and quick, before the IC's brainwashing progressed too far in the poor souls. No amount of force was going to get him in, unfortunately. It would take a small army to storm this place, no. He was going to have to go the more subtle route. So, he walks up to the front desk and pulls out his resume. "Excuse me, could you point me to... Office 3b? I have a job interview." He had faked his resume, of course, claiming to hate all things Sanderson- except maybe Moash, the one character he liked. It was honestly difficult to type back when he applied, and had to spend three hours online arguing with a real Moash defender to get the sick feeling out of his stomach. But his trials were almost over, and just one more interview and he could get in as a Anti-Brandon Therapist, where he could get right up close and personal with the patients. (The job hadn't been very difficult to get an interview for. Unsurprisingly, there weren't many Anti-Brandon Therapists on the market.)
  6. europe

    "We only need one to interrogate, don't we?"
  7. europe

    @The Unknown Novel (Up for a fight scene?) I whisper quietly to Damien, quiet enough to not be heard by the thugs over the hustle of the city above. "Looks like some Epic's minions. Since their master clearly isn't here at the moment, how about we deal with these people and get some info about their goings-on?"
  8. europe

    @#1 Taln Fan (Has Crystallix left his throne room?) @The Unknown Novel Cibor creeped down the dark, dank, and narrow corridors of the sewers. Him and Damien had left the main causeway once it became clear it was occupied by an underground slum, filled with those abandoned and left in ruin by the above world. Now they shuffled through one of the many abandoned tunnels, their only light being that of their flashlights. The informant they were looking for was on the other side of town. And since Cibor wasn't dumb enough to go walking through downtown Berlin in military gear, through the sewers they went. It wasn't long before a light appeared, far down the tunnel.- clearly not daylight, but strange down here nonetheless. Gesturing to Damien to turn their flashlights off, the pair hides in the darkness near the entrance to the chamber they now peer into. Inside is about twelve gun-wielding grunts and multiple crystals, one large throne-shaped one and one that's a little smaller than a person, with a vague outline of... something inside. Clearly some sort of epic's lair- new, perhaps, given the signs of recent struggle.
  9. "Alright. I like this reddish color I suppose..." I pull it out of the box, wondering why the label was on the inside of the container.
  10. "I- I see." I glance over at the other visitors. "I suppose- I suppose I'll do it physical. Nothing like hard machinery, haha..." Something feels off.
  11. I awkwardly laugh. "Ha, yeah... Uh, alright. I guess I'll take one? Will that cost me anything?"
  12. "Uh- What the hell is a Danex?"
  13. europe

    Once the both leave, they walk down the highway into the denser parts of Berlin, and Cibor leads Damien to a sewer entrance tucked away in a tight alleyway. Pulling off the manhole ca wave of stench hits the two and Cibor hops down onto the ladder and descends into the dark.