{{
`${userDetail.user.displayName}${userDetail.user.cachedBungieGlobalDisplayNameCode ? `#${standardizeBungieGlobalCode(userDetail.user.cachedBungieGlobalDisplayNameCode)}` : ""}`}}
{{getUserClans()}}
1/11/2016 10:19:24 AM
1
Again, Frankie stays silent, trying to compute what the hell "Shepard" means.
"Well, Shepard," he says, "you're one... strange motherfuçker."
English
-
Edited by Cosmic: 1/11/2016 10:24:27 AM"Heh, very original, friend.... Shepard basically implies I was forged from an antisocial to the leader of a flock... Then they either A: where eaten by rats, or B: killed themselves... But ehh, no one cares about that right?" [b]his whole body twitches and ticks. His head tilts to the side like a confused cat[/b]
-
Frankie is now more tolerant of how disturbing Shepard is, crossing his arms and nodding as he talks. Then he thinks of something. "Are you... a November operative?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow.
-
"Hehe.. Nope"
-
"Guessed not..." he says, tapping a finger on his own forearm as his arms are crossed. "Well... why are you here in Erot? Healing people?"
-
[b]he leans against a wall and sighs[/b]"Im a wisp. We lived on corra as our homeworld, which FN promptly glassed with no political outreach at all. I was forced lived in an abandoned storage room with my clone, girlfriend and her friend, us being the last wisps alive. When it came down, and those stupid Avalon guards all went screaming back to hell, I escaped and founded the flock, found my girlfriend, her friend and a baby which had been stolen by bandits, only for them tone promptly murdered by my own folly or sucidal means. Now only me and my clone, John, remain. We now have a pretty strong little group and... This blood isn't mine.."
-
Frankie stands, mouth slightly ajar, as he listens with intuitive eyes. "So... you and your... clone are the last of a nearly extinct race? That November endangered?" he asks distantly.
-
"Yes..."
-
Edited by Asharru: 1/11/2016 5:48:17 PMThe uneasiness floods back into Frankie's eyes and face, and he exhales, his eyes flickering. "We... They... Why...? Why would they do that?" he asks, his brow furrowed in sorrow.
-
"Greed.. Power.. Dominance.."
-
He winces in the revelation of November being evil themselves, despite them being assembled to fight evil itself...
-
"I was pained by their lies Aswell, friend. They aren't as... Noble as they appear"
-
"I... I don't know what I should do... I don't know if I should leave them or not..."
-
"That's a choice only you can make, mate."
-
Frankie gazes at the ground in deep thought, troubled thought. "Well... why would you stay here? So near to the Fireteam?"
-
"Food...."
-
"Oh."
-
"Yeah..." [b]the duffel bag starts moving and shuffling, he drops it, seemingly accidentally[/b]
-
Frankie stares at the bag with wide eyes, silent.
-
[b]he quickly runs over and kicks it into the gutter, down a storm drain[/b]
-
"The hell was that?" Frankie asks.
-
"... Don't ask"
-
Frankie stares at the storm drain in blank silence.
-
"Hate for anything similar to them... And greedy land hoarding"
-
"Yep.... We are the last wisps.."
-
"BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH nope.."
