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Welcome!
A little background on the Baron:
Not much is known about the baron, or at least not much that can be independently verified. His origins are shrouded in apocryphal and oftentimes contradictory tales that are usually exercises in self aggrandizement, but while they might detract from his credibility, they are pressed into more than adequate service to augment his charm and charisma. Stories of his birth include auspicious celestial events and an uncanny cessation of the butt-sniffing behavior of dogs in favor of synchronized barking in iambic pentameter.
His title was bequeathed to him as payment for a favor rendered to an old and obscure (and not to mention dubiously spelled) branch of Prussian royalty. Not much is known about the nature of this task, although he will often enigmatically refer to legions of irate Hessians before laughing and quickly changing the subject.
He is the self styled leader of the Kleptocracy des Coeurs des Belles Femmes, whence he derives his rank. He likes long walks on the beach, fine wine, and nachos; he dislikes all things that are not awesome, although he will tolerate the merely fantastic.
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The Captain:
“We’re out of ammo.” Rad Boy said this in a conversational tone that belied the urgency of the situation. “I’m out of ideas. It was yours to come here. How do you propose we get out?” He reached for his flask, but stopped with a shake of his head after remembering that we’d drained the rest before this latest caper in a premature celebration. He eyed me with a questioning gaze.
A problem with being the Captain is that people expect you to always have a certain insouciance about extreme peril, preceding a brash and crazy-enough-to-work idea that saves the day. Or your skin. Either way, this is part of a long tradition of expectations being completely at odds with reality. Truth was, I was scared shitless and in no mood to be brash or brilliant. In fact, I was ready to give it up and face the consequences, whatever they might be, just to put an end to this all.
But that’s what I wanted, and probably wasn’t something that had even crossed Rad Boy’s mind. I couldn’t let him down, not after all he’d been through for me. Inwardly, I gritted my teeth and sighed, but all that I let show on the outside was a flash of what I hoped was inspiration and not desperation in my eyes.
I’m getting ahead of myself, though. I used to not be the Captain, used to not know Rad Boy or any of the other well meaning but foolish people who unknowingly signed on to what would probably be their demise, and used to be a fairly normal fellow who could still laugh without a trace of irony and look at himself in the mirror without barely suppressing an incredulous stare of disdain.
Mawkish, I know. Disgustingly so, I might add. But, in these darker moments, undeniably true. Here’s how it started:
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Posted by superflyc on Tuesday, August 14 @ 14:13:11 GMT (152 reads)
(comments? | The Captain | Score: 0) |
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Site News: Hi!
Okay, due to some installation glitches, I had to wipe the old database, but I think this is a much more stable environment. I have integrated forums on here, and they seem to be working well. That's what got me last time. I've also got my database administrator up and running, which was much more of a chore than it should have been.
Thanks for stopping by, and apologies for making you re-enter anything. Won't happen again, promise. :)
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Posted by superflyc on Monday, July 23 @ 11:18:07 GMT (804 reads)
(Read More... | 174 comments | Site News | Score: 0) |
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