- Joined
- Aug 9, 2023
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[OOC]
Hey! Great to meet y'all. Mundanely, I'm Dave, an Old School sci-fi nerd and gamer of every platform. I lucked upon your site (by way of my wife) while looking for names of Mandalorian animals of the wild. I joined, figuring I can flesh out my cosplay persona (a Mandalorian, of course) through roleplay on the site - hope it's okay with y'all. Anyway, just a brief hello, and I'll flesh this out further later.
[/OOC]
The Mandalorian sat at the back of the tavern, his armor dull and grey over his black flightsuit. Visored, none could see his face; though one knew he scanned the room by imperceptible tilts of his head. He beckons you, motioning to the chair across from him.
"Su cuy'gar, burc'ya." The voice, even through the voice scrambler, is low and almost melodic, with a hint of a growl - the voice of one who has no time for small talk... or time wasters. "You seek a Oya'karir alor, yes?" He leans forward, the helm scarred from years of use. "You found him... perhaps. Will this Hunt taylir ijaat, or is that vercopaanir?" Your translator struggles with the Mando'a, even as he taps the table with a gloved hand. "Alii'kote, mine depends on my prey - beskar'ade is extra, no dala, no ade. Understand? Nod if you follow."
The Mandalorian stares at you; you can feel his eyes burning , even through the smoked visor, as he awaits your reply.
"Answer me, utreekov - OR LEAVE."
Hey! Great to meet y'all. Mundanely, I'm Dave, an Old School sci-fi nerd and gamer of every platform. I lucked upon your site (by way of my wife) while looking for names of Mandalorian animals of the wild. I joined, figuring I can flesh out my cosplay persona (a Mandalorian, of course) through roleplay on the site - hope it's okay with y'all. Anyway, just a brief hello, and I'll flesh this out further later.
[/OOC]
The Mandalorian sat at the back of the tavern, his armor dull and grey over his black flightsuit. Visored, none could see his face; though one knew he scanned the room by imperceptible tilts of his head. He beckons you, motioning to the chair across from him.
"Su cuy'gar, burc'ya." The voice, even through the voice scrambler, is low and almost melodic, with a hint of a growl - the voice of one who has no time for small talk... or time wasters. "You seek a Oya'karir alor, yes?" He leans forward, the helm scarred from years of use. "You found him... perhaps. Will this Hunt taylir ijaat, or is that vercopaanir?" Your translator struggles with the Mando'a, even as he taps the table with a gloved hand. "Alii'kote, mine depends on my prey - beskar'ade is extra, no dala, no ade. Understand? Nod if you follow."
The Mandalorian stares at you; you can feel his eyes burning , even through the smoked visor, as he awaits your reply.
"Answer me, utreekov - OR LEAVE."
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