[Slashing, Hacking & Bataranging]
Who: Denmark & Stephanie Brown
Where : Town center of Haven
When: At the beginning and into the day of the 1st Reaver Raid.
Summary: Denmark comes out of the local Saloon, where he's been spending too much of his time since arriving in Haven, to find that all chaos has broken loose. Luckily he has his axe and intends to do some damage, maybe even save a life or two in the process. However, seems the girl he's coming to the aid of doesn't need much help. That will not stop him.
Rating: R
Warnings: Self-defense and the murder of creatures intending to murder and mutilate, which is arguably not murder. Murder, murder, murder.
Denmark was pretty good at blocking out unnecessary distractions. It saved him a lot of trouble, kept him out of situations that weren't really any of his business, and more or less allowed him to focus on whatever the task was at hand which usually, and unintentionally, often involved him acting as an unnecessary distraction to those around him.
Something about that was probably ironic.
Since those around him had most often been his fellow Nordic's his role as nuisance, loudmouth, and oblivious irritant had been suitably filled. Now in the Facility, mostly surrounded by strangers, his role had been somewhat compromised. He found that he didn't get on the nerves of those around him with nearly the same frequency as he had Norway and Iceland and there were next to no baleful glares aimed his way that could even compare to Sweden's. It could maybe be considered odd that he was feeling somewhat listless, useless without his accustomed role to fill, but those were the facts and so being in Haven he had taken full advantage of what the place had to offer, besides the excessive heat and the too bright sun, and spent the majority of his time inside the cool dimness of the local saloon.
Life, while not good, was tolerable this way and thus, alone and drinking steadily, it is worthwhile to now return to Denmark's skill of ignoring issues that had nothing to do with him and pair it with a curiosity that was contrary to this skill and which more often than not only lead to trouble.
Denmark could ignore a bar fight if it were happening right behind him, should he not feel inclined to get involved. Denmark could blissfully ignore reading an increasingly dangerous atmosphere if it meant being able to harass Norway a few moments longer than technically considered safe. Denmark could disregard all the grim possibilities of what being in the Facility meant if that allowed him more time to make jokes, make friends, and more or less make merry.
But when he so chose Denmark could also see the importance of investigating the strange booming blasts that sounded distant only because of their low tones, vibrating in his bones and making him rise from his bar stool, taking his axe with him as he approached the doors of the saloon.
Stepping out into the bright sun and desert air he could also see how he'd made the right choice. Invaders rappelling down from great ships in the sky, dark and streaked red with warpaint. Raiders dressed in a way that reminded Denmark of Sweden or Norway's music scene, with wicked weapons that made their brutality immediately evident.
While it had been awhile since Denmark had used his axe in this fashion it by no means felt unnatural to heft it up and bring it down heavily into the nearest back of an unsuspecting interloper. If he were thinking about it Denmark might allow a moment or two of alarm by how nostalgic he found the whole situation.
No time for that though. There was fighting going on and Denmark had always been pretty good in a fight. Anyway, the young blond girl fighting off what looked to be two of them to his right looked like she needed some help.
Where : Town center of Haven
When: At the beginning and into the day of the 1st Reaver Raid.
Summary: Denmark comes out of the local Saloon, where he's been spending too much of his time since arriving in Haven, to find that all chaos has broken loose. Luckily he has his axe and intends to do some damage, maybe even save a life or two in the process. However, seems the girl he's coming to the aid of doesn't need much help. That will not stop him.
Rating: R
Warnings: Self-defense and the murder of creatures intending to murder and mutilate, which is arguably not murder. Murder, murder, murder.
Denmark was pretty good at blocking out unnecessary distractions. It saved him a lot of trouble, kept him out of situations that weren't really any of his business, and more or less allowed him to focus on whatever the task was at hand which usually, and unintentionally, often involved him acting as an unnecessary distraction to those around him.
Something about that was probably ironic.
Since those around him had most often been his fellow Nordic's his role as nuisance, loudmouth, and oblivious irritant had been suitably filled. Now in the Facility, mostly surrounded by strangers, his role had been somewhat compromised. He found that he didn't get on the nerves of those around him with nearly the same frequency as he had Norway and Iceland and there were next to no baleful glares aimed his way that could even compare to Sweden's. It could maybe be considered odd that he was feeling somewhat listless, useless without his accustomed role to fill, but those were the facts and so being in Haven he had taken full advantage of what the place had to offer, besides the excessive heat and the too bright sun, and spent the majority of his time inside the cool dimness of the local saloon.
Life, while not good, was tolerable this way and thus, alone and drinking steadily, it is worthwhile to now return to Denmark's skill of ignoring issues that had nothing to do with him and pair it with a curiosity that was contrary to this skill and which more often than not only lead to trouble.
Denmark could ignore a bar fight if it were happening right behind him, should he not feel inclined to get involved. Denmark could blissfully ignore reading an increasingly dangerous atmosphere if it meant being able to harass Norway a few moments longer than technically considered safe. Denmark could disregard all the grim possibilities of what being in the Facility meant if that allowed him more time to make jokes, make friends, and more or less make merry.
But when he so chose Denmark could also see the importance of investigating the strange booming blasts that sounded distant only because of their low tones, vibrating in his bones and making him rise from his bar stool, taking his axe with him as he approached the doors of the saloon.
Stepping out into the bright sun and desert air he could also see how he'd made the right choice. Invaders rappelling down from great ships in the sky, dark and streaked red with warpaint. Raiders dressed in a way that reminded Denmark of Sweden or Norway's music scene, with wicked weapons that made their brutality immediately evident.
While it had been awhile since Denmark had used his axe in this fashion it by no means felt unnatural to heft it up and bring it down heavily into the nearest back of an unsuspecting interloper. If he were thinking about it Denmark might allow a moment or two of alarm by how nostalgic he found the whole situation.
No time for that though. There was fighting going on and Denmark had always been pretty good in a fight. Anyway, the young blond girl fighting off what looked to be two of them to his right looked like she needed some help.