"Come on baby, they've laid on a private room for me out back. I haven't had sex for six months. I hope you're ready to satisfy this horny soldier."
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An Army of One…
You’re welcome US Army Recruiting Centers…
Private 1st Class Allie
FYI - What she does in Private is Classified Top Secret… Shhhhhh….
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Lu Da what challenges have you faced as an Earth Kingdom pirate/privateer working for the Fire Nation?
Well, for one thing, the whole “Earth Kingdom blood” business throws a tiny wrench into the welcome wagon, as you can imagine, with plenty of offers for a complimentary dirt nap.
Lu Da flashes a sharp grin, one tattooed cheek claiming more of the feral than the other, as a scowling lout shoves past him, hard, with a sneer. He glances over his shoulder, not at the lout or the stool where his empty drink sits, but for the soldier who’d yet to return with their second round.
Lotta folks here eyeing me as a traitorous outcast, to say nothing of what my own’ll think once word catches. It’s an awkward sorta limbo, yeah, but that’s a worry for another day. A guy’s gotta live, and in my line of work, the only fealty sworn is to the coin. Till my contract runs out, that coin is Fire Lord Ozai’s, whether they like it or not.
To top it off, then there’s the pirate business. Hard for some to stomach their lord consorting with a man of my occupation. Thing is, Ozai’s an opportunist. He’s in this to win it. He saw a way to skirt the red rope and fancy rules and a guy who gets shit done with the track record to prove it. Mercenary of my notoriety is a perfect weapon in the right hands.
So yeah, safe to say these first weeks since getting my official papers’ve been like hauling a treasure chest through a pit of blasting jelly. Part of why I got this soldier up my ass all the time now. Courtesy of the Fire Lord, for my protection. ‘Course I know damn well it’s as much a leash, keeping me in line, making sure I’m good for my word. And who better than a duty-drunk buzzkill who can cut a man down in two paces?
There is a cheeky tug at the edge of his voice, and his lips curl with it.
Can’t even take a shit without her sense of honor breathing down my neck. I’ve tried shaking her off a few times—dove headfirst into the mob at a Fire Festival, started a tavern brawl with some oafs twice my size—but dammit if she's not there again like a stubborn itch. If an itch were also useful, and deadly. Almost can’t help but admire the grind. Small price to pay for a lucrative gig, I s’pose.
To boil it down, it’s a precarious balance that keeps me sharp, but the gossip and stink-eyes and death threats are just noise in the end. The results’ll speak for themselves in time. Never been one to shy away from a challenge, ‘specially when there’s good coin to be made and a reputation to uphold. What matters is the job at hand, and right now, that job is doing any and all dirty work Fire Lord Ozai wants done.
He casts another glance over the throngs, pausing to wink at a large man who spits a slur in his direction.
“Now where are our drinks?”
Ask my OC anything
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Private Barbie… Bringing all the little soldiers to attention…
WARNING: Seek Cover In The Event Of Premature Weapons Discharge.
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