Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20180615005427/@comment-25808351-20181120022558

“I can pour my own drinks, Jorge. I’m no stuff shirted fuck who needs others to deal my medicine.” Marcus barks to the giant of a man.

“Enough!” Armata shouts as he begins descending the stairs of his throne to the two gentlemen before him. “Jorge is right. This is the time for us to strategize, not wallow in pity or doubt. Pramool will most certainly not do such a thing.”

Armata turns toward the stained glass window nearest to him, one of the many that line his great hall. He approaches it and looks through it at his kingdom. “I will begin to collaborate with my own world’s leaders. Try to develop some kind of stratagem for the fight against Pramool.”

“Dog, you are dismissed. Jorge and I shall have matters to speak of. Go see your family. I’ll notify you personally with any developments....” Armata says with a nonchalant wave of his hand.

As Marcus marches out with a disgruntled huff, Armata then looks to Jorge. “You seem well. Considering the travesty that has befallen us. Tell me, Jorge. When was the last time you saw your daughter?” Armata begins striding toward Jorge with pride.