granhelmsman-blog

[granhelmsman-blog]

Lands without any warning right on Rackam's head, makes squeaks while clearly messing of the helmsman's hair.

The man instinctively bats away whatever bird attacked his hair.

“What the hell I’m being attacked!”

Waving the stock of his BB rifle at the blue bat he notices what it really is.“Eh, a dragon? Wait I think I’ve seen you somewhere before...”

[granhelmsman-blog]

anglerfishnabe‌:

Indeed. It was just Ogata.

Having climbed to the upper floor to gain a good vantage point Ogata was in the process of preparing the rifle for another round of monster busting. Hearing sounds from downstairs he stalls for a moment but for now he’ll let it be. He’ll go check once he’s all done…. 

It’s true the floorboards had been creaking but nothing really suggested they were this weak. A loud crash from downstairs had raised Ogata to his feet quicker than intended. Just few steps and the floor crashes under his weight. He tries to reach upwards but it’s too slow. Along with the splinters, bag and the rifle Ogata falls, cloak flapping all the way down.

Only the fall is surprisingly comfortable. He was fully prepared for a crude landing and granted it was no mattress he dropped on but regardless softened the landing, at least sparing him from butt aches. Right now he’s not focusing on what’s below him anyway but he figures it’s alive. He did hear a voice after all—

“ …..don’t move “, he orders immediately without turning his glance.

Faced with the boar Ogata immediately clicks the safety off and turns the bolt. If he misses the shot it’ll be bad.

“D-don’t move..!?” Rackam spits back in a whispering voice while the giant monster boar remained dazed, which wouldn’t be many more seconds. “If anything, getting away from here is exactly what we should be doing.” 

Rackam clutched his toolbox tightly to his breastplate. The unexpected guest better be a decent shot and carry a pretty heavy gun for this to work.

Tools for the Job

[granhelmsman-blog]

lockpicklupin‌:

“See, see that’s amazing. Airships all failed out badly, except for little festivals here and there. Occasionally someone will get a zeppelin out and they always wanna hide stuff on it. Seems like a bad idea. Uhhhh raise.” He adds like an afterthought, pushing a few chips over and picking up his drink again. “Imagine going from being considered superhuman to being chump change! You people are all amazing, wherever it is you come from.”

It’s part flattery, part genuine amazement, part amiable envy. “I wanna hear about this technology though, I’m real curious.”

Rackam’s cigarette perked up as the man showed interest for skyfaring technology. A smirk curling up on the pilot’s face. The other two gentlemen at the table, one big burly with a mustache so thick his mouth has hidden beneath, a skinnier fellow whose eyes are hidden underneath the brim of his hat listen with interest to the conversation.

“Maybe I can give you the rundown sometime, it’s the fusing magic with machinery that made it all work where I came from...” Rackam looks at his hand, a Queen of Hearts and Spade were his best cards. With some luck, he could get a full house, raising the bet, Rackam came here to return home a richer man.

“.. Though there are some pretty strong people, I’m not much different from the rest.” He sights. “The ability to fly at free will would be handy... Are you an engineer yourself?” Rackam asks the man across the table.

[granhelmsman-blog]

rauubtier‌:

@granhelmsman

It’s become increasingly obvious that the BB gun she’s been offered is absolutely, and utterly useless to her. She can’t discourage most of the things here with a little plastic shot. So, she tries to do better, and goes for the option of a slingshot. They’re smaller, but rudimentary, without the same punch that a bullet offers. 

“I’m looking for ball bearings.” She says to a stranger who looks like he may know where he is. It’s her best shot.

As if to solidify her point, she shows her slingshot. “Or an equal projectile.”

“Ball bearings...?” The man turned around, seeing a woman with a slingshot in her hand. It looked... Out of place for a character like her.

“Sorry, lady. I don’t carry such things on me.” He waggles his own BB rifle resting against his shoulder, barrel too small to fire off any serious sized balls. Smoke dissipating into the air from his smoldering cigarette.

Rackam looks questionably at the slingshot with a raised eyebrow. “You trying to make that thing lethal or something?”

[granhelmsman-blog]

@lystsyn

“According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way that a Rackam should be able to fly. It has no wings to get its fat little body off the ground. The Rackam, of course, (attempts to) flies anyways. Because Rackams don't care what people think is impossible.”

Perhaps such a thought flashed through Vira’s mind as her red eyes could only but stare at the hunk of junk strapped together, spewing black smoke out of the back of it and one man trying to control on it from the top like a cowboy riding a bull.

The construct, however, doesn’t get to live long in Vira’s eyes however. As it appeared leaping up (loudly) behind a fence, as quickly as it reached the skies just above the woman, it quickly came crashing down into the asphalt behind her.

Scraps of metal scatters everywhere, the one wheel on it rolling away in embarrassment having to partake into this to begin with. The man who always dreams to fly the skies with his beloved airship emerges from the junk pile, bruised and greased.

“Aah... I guess that should have been no good.” Rackam sounds quite defeated. While he only wish to travel the skies with her. He thought having a vehicle to get by with would speed up his search of where the Grancypher is.

Looking up, not too far away from his landingzone, he recognizes the girl, mouth dropping open. “Ah, V-Vira!? You’re here too, huh.”

[granhelmsman-blog]

@lockpicklupin

With the city seemingly returned to some level of former glory before people arrived here, people were quick to back into stabilized routine life.

Like being in a smoke hazed bar. Betting some dust, stars or other valuables. At the skill of playing cards.

And what so happens on one of such tables, a generous pile of such had already been stacked up. The four gentlemen sitting at the table playing poker let a moment of silence hang over time as they valued their hands.

One of the men, wearing a breastplate, having his hair dropped in front of the right side of his face and a cigarette in his mouth, taps the table. 

“Call.” he says in a relaxed voice, raising his stake to match the current bet amount with a few dust chips.

“As far as I understand it...” The man breaks the silence. “... We all don’t come from the same ‘universe’ or how to put it. Where I come from we live on floating islands and uses airships to get across them.”

[granhelmsman-blog]

I crave interactions.

Therefor you can like this for a starter.

Please slide into my DMs if you’re interested in a thread that gives old Rackam an opportunity to use his mechanic skills on your car/bike/gun/AC/Fridge, whatever you want fixed/improved on it. He’s pretty good for that kind of stuff. Just no hover cars or laser guns, that’s a bit too advanced for him.

But just so we’re clear, the above request isn’t a demand, that’s just a wishlist thing for me. I am capable to write starters without that element.

I might be selective depending on how many likes I get, don’t want to juggle too many threads in the air y’know. 

[granhelmsman-blog]

Everyone I threaded with dropped their characters

Time to hunt for new starters

[granhelmsman-blog]

dragonesas:

Oh, for Naga’s sake.

Tiki didn’t understand anything. As soon as she arrived she passed out for a solid day, and now… now everything was being destroyed,strange creatures Tiki had never seen before causing chaos around her. Safely hidden in a small alleyway, Tiki had no idea how she was still alive, but a guess was needed, she possibly looked too dead for anything to catch interest on her.

Slowly getting up, the manakete looked around, exhaustion quickly escaping from her body as she analyzed the situation. It was war, just like it had been back home. She’d been brought to another warzone, and why? For what purpose? Who did this?

She didn’t know. She could only fight her way towards answers.

There was a wind Tome next to her. Tiki had no idea where it came from, but she took it into her hands and set out to fight.

A pile of debris starts to suddenly rumble and make noise, a dirty man breaking himself out from the rubble of concrete and rusty iron pipes. It was none other than the legendary ace sky pilot Rackam, the infamous wanted man for stopping a secret Empire project. But none of that mattered in this place, he had been stripped of all his privileges and friends and put on this unknown island with nothing to his name. Pulling a leather gloved hand through his side swept hair he grunts as black streaks smears themselves on his forehead from the dirty glove.

“Whew, I thought for sure I’d be too broken to get out of that by myself.” The cigarette in his mouth droops as his body aches in every imaginable spot.

In front of him, further away, a woman with long green hair and red attire was dashing through. She didn’t look like a monster so she could be a potential ally, right?

“Oi! Ho- Augh, my ribs. Hold up, lass! Where are you heading?” Catching up soon enough, clumsily and in style of being out of breath and barely able to stand. Yet holding a respectable distance, he gets a closer look on the woman and feels a tingle in his chest as he sees familiar features.

“Those ears...” He murmurs quietly to himself.

[granhelmsman-blog]

Tools for the Job

@anglerfishnabe

“This whole island is a mess but at least there is proof of people once living here.” Rackam, the ever ingenious engineer and mechanic, was scavenging through ruins under the chaos of the monster waves. Since he had arrived here with nothing, he had to start collecting something. Tools, in fact. Whatever wrench, hammer, nails and other useful inventions that has been left to rust. Bent down in a squat like a true slav rummaging through piles of junk.

“Oh! A hacksaw! Ehehe looks like fortune is starting to smile at my way.” The toothy grin of success was shortlived however as heavy stomping steps suddenly quaked the ground below him.

Slowly turning around, Rackam’s eyes widen as he clenched onto his cigarette, a black boar the size of a trailer truck, barely able to fit inside the workshop as its grizzled back presses against the ceiling. Red menacing eyes stares at Rackam just five meter away. And the tusks, large, curled and twisted covered in barbs looked like something you’d make tomato juice out of a tomato with no problem. Except Rackam was the tomato.

A hard gulp, cornered agaisnt the workbench and small area, the man slowly backs as the monster gets closer, its snout flaring up as it exhales a cloud of steam, drool dripping from its mouth with rows of sharp teeth.

“I guess fortune gives and takes just as fast...” Rackam tried to humor himself, not reading to become boar food.

Gripping hard onto his rifle with one hand, the other the toolbox he had stuffed his treasures with, he had to think of something quick.

But like in a fairy tale, deus ex machina appeared, in the form of the roof suddenly making a loud noise as it tore itself upon, light from the sun cast down upon the boar as something swiftly collided against the small head of the otherwise oversized boar. The boar squeals and becomes momentarily stunned from the surprise attack.

Was it an angel, arriving in Rackam’s darkest hour? No. It was just...

[granhelmsman-blog]

らくがき | 河原（にお） #pixiv

[granhelmsman-blog]

If I haven’t followed back yet don’t fret

I’m still in the situation where I keep hitting the daily follow limit going down the Master List.

At least I’ve tackled all the titan fandoms now

[granhelmsman-blog]

naniwasbishamonten:

@granhelmsman liked for a starter.

“Tch. This is more troublesome than Osaka being set on fire and almost destroyed.” she placed her pipe to her lips and puffed on it before removing it and exhaling the smoke.

“Oi, we’re a ways from the nearest safe zone. Should we look for other survivors or stragglers or make a break for it?”

Smoke oozing away into a trail in the air behind the man from his cigarette, the ashen embers falling off by themselves when he taps the roll with his lips. He looks at the fresh made ruins around them.

“You’re good enough for a run? I don’t have a real weapon with me so all I can do is piss off the monsters.”

He taps the toy gun against his shoulder. How was he supposed to survive a crazy place like this with this? “..We can pick up whoever we bump into on the way to a safe zone.”

[granhelmsman-blog]

Rackam  from granblue fantasy

[granhelmsman-blog]

Wanted convict who loves tinkering with stuff like engines and rifles.

Blunt as a rock and about as heavy-handed. He’ll make up any excuse or deflection to not outright admit he cares for others (it’s easier being blunt towards others than himself I suppose), but yet he always looks after others.

That’s Rackam for you.

[granhelmsman-blog]

asedh

teststests 

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wewlad