Recent content by Off-the-Wall Westbrooke

O.T.W didn't talk about it. He just didn't. And who ever said he had to? When he stumbled across the Monastery and hung around, decided, maybe foolishly, that he would join up, and they'd asked him if he had combat experience. He'd said, "Well, 'course I do!" And they'd asked, "When, with whom...

O.T.W lets Montbank take his own lead, watches him as he downs his gin with precision. Watches him get up to approach Petra, surveying her with military standard and welcoming her to join them on maneuvers. O.T.W sends her a wave and a polite head-cock in agreement to Montbank's words. He was...

Somethin's not wrong my foot. If I put a mirror in front'a you, you'd be askin' yourself why the long beak… "Sure, I hear it. Real wonderful… I always admired folks who could strum, not so easy with these." O.T.W nodded, eyes gleaming jovially as he shows off the talons on his fingers, like...

"Splendid, ya think? Well I'll say. Thank ya, Tango." O.T.W takes a seat right next to Montbank, back hunched like a professional alcoholic, eyes clear as a portender as he peers directly at the other Avid, and leans his beak on his fist at the bar. “Now. I'll drink this beer in memory of that...

O.T.W turns to face Montbank, squinting in mild pain as he does so, and gives too eager a shrug in response for the smoking hole he'd created in the middle of the Knoll, seeming more put-off by his gear being out-of-sorts than his narrowly avoided full-body cast. "One man's FUBAR is another...

"Alright Chief, cruisin' thirty knots I'd say, oh, half-Spine elevation, and lookin' to make a pinkie at the K-teen." A twinkle comes to O.T.W.'s sharp eyes as he shouts to himself over the whistle of the high wind speed, glad to fly, and certainly pleased by the sight of the Monastery...