Right lads, I've got some tankards full of beer and ale waiting at this roll cll station, so get yer butts over here and make sure you are listed as active in the Union. Post all your ships, the wings they are in, and your rank.
//Doh! I can't remember the name of my Barghest...:crazy:
Now, hurry it up lads, we don't have long to be able to gather our strength once more against the Colonials and their scum allies, the Corsairs! For gold! For Cork!
James marched in the bar with a surprizingly happy face on, which quickly dissapeared when his stool broke under his massive wheight. He cursed at the barman for a minute then sent him off scampering for another stool. He smiled what was surposed to be a disarming smile at Doug but is was horrificly deformed by the angular muscles and scars criss-crossing his face, which turned his smile into an angry sneer.
'Ello, sir my Grey'ound and teh Long Patrol are in good working order, sirrah.
He smiled again positive hat the small Irishman didnt notice the Britonian slang word for an infirior person.
Have those damned Brits started yanking at your leash already?
Some say that he is allergic to a fungus found only between the toes of Corsairs,
and that he is oblivious to 98% of Liberty Law. All we know is... He's called the Busdriver!
Corporal Farthings of Alpha Squadron reporting in, sir.
Still waiting to get initiated, but here none-the-less.
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:49:19 AM] Elgatodiablo: You know its nice that you have all that proof and all, Bacon... but I just don't believe you.