Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-26130256-20170711055926/@comment-26130256-20180609005829

"GACK!" Edom choked out as Cebada wrapped an arm around him. The imposter's original plan was to say something witty enough to silence his classmate, at least until after their hacking class. Clearly, rather than pushing him away, Edom had just endeared himself to the guy instead. Fantastic.

"First, personal space," he replied, ducking out of Cebada's grip. "Second, everything I'm about to tell you is hearsay, so have a few grains of salt ready.  But I've got a friend back in Vale, thinks she's some kind of literary critic.  And she's been working with another friend of mine on a computer program that can read articles and books to tell you if the same person wrote them.  Now, when she used the last twenty or so years of The Vacuan Journal of Combat Science as a test, she found over a half dozen names with almost identical writing styles.  That, plus the references some of the writers make, she says it is extraordinarily likely that the articles were written by the same guy, and a guy who has been around the Vacuan criminal underworld for at least three decades"

"Names like..." he pulled out his scroll to type out the list, "Grigori Thresher, Wheatley Mozberger, Pietro Benelli, Nemo von Ratatouille, I'd have to send her an e-mail to get the full list she found.  He likes writing about all sorts of weapons, not just clubs, so you might have to dig, but the Journal's index is free to anyone, and their back issues are pretty cheap.  Worst case, you get some insight into how he thinks, and you might even find that handy."

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"Bolton, glad to see you're well.  Same to you, Mr. Talsphere," Trigo pantomimed tipping his hat. Besides being relatively handy in a fight, particularly against mechanical enemies, Ingraham was the sole purveyor of a drink referred to as Liquid Cojones, one of a few alcoholic beverages strong enough to make even a seasoned drunkard as himself pause. Trigo sincerely hoped he could extract the recipe from the boy before something unfortunate happened to him.

"And if you must know, His Royal Flagg-ness ordered an emergency board meeting to discuss preparations for the Vytal Festival.  But, since a few of the board numbers won't be arriving until tomorrow, I figured I'd see about penciling in some good-natured harassment time.  Surely you have at least one student in need of some humility, or need some discussion about theory, or anything cerebral like that.  If not, I've already gotten four e-mails since I landed from Eliminators looking for a rematch.  You still might have time to get in on the betting pool."