Snippet #2787661

located in The Final Frontier, a part of The Blackbird's Cry, one of the many universes on RPG.

The Final Frontier

"Space: the final frontier." How often have we heard that line?

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amaya Rose Character Portrait: Emilia "M" Leibe Character Portrait: Leon Selig Character Portrait: Nierra Ezran Character Portrait: Robert Langley Character Portrait: Lilian Rhorer Character Portrait: Matias Kingsbury Character Portrait: Astraeus Economos Character Portrait: Tyson Monnaie
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An absurdly lanky blond man, Tyson Monnaie, surged from out of the shuttle, gasping dramatically. "Finally," he managed to say between breaths, "I'm free of this metal cage! Sixteen hours! SIXTEEN HOURS of cramps and paresthesia! I thought I would die before my legs would feel blood flowing through them again! I'm pretty sure I will never feel my right foot's big toe again..."

Managing to move his long legs (severely fake-limping, of course), Tyson got to a place he could sit down. Here, he continued to quietly whine to himself, "Why does every shuttle have to be so small? And always filled to the brim with the most inconsiderate people! Don't they realize a tall handsome gentleman, especially a stupidly rich one at that, naturally needs more space?"

"Yes," Tyson shouted out to no one in particular, but addressing all with clear condemnation, "the man you pressed and squeezed into a corner like a lemon IS, in fact, THE Tyson Monnaie of the Monnaie Riche Corporation, founded by the Monnaie family. Super rich, super handsome, yes, I know, it's an honor for me to be here, as well, I ASSURE you."

And with that terrible speech, he rolled his eyes and began to rub his legs vigorously, muttering about lack of blood, pins and needles, and anything else he could justify complaining about.

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