Loriche is out scrounging up scrap metal from anywhere possible.
Malafasa is making another tornado.
*Ah, leaving the choice up to me, how terrible. I'm fine with starting another, so you don't have to go back and get it.*
Rag is meditating in a cave, and the ground around him has turned molten, revealing metals underneath. Generally, Rag's heat is just good for the environment in the long run.
John is watching from with view, as to keep them from being paranoid.
“Hey, nice!” Loriche approaches, takes out her pick, and starts harvesting the metal like it’s Fortnite.
Malafasa, being constantly paranoid, is keeping one eye on him at all times.
He opens an eye, looking down to them "Hello to you too." He grabs one of the ore chunks, pulling it out of the wall and putting it down next to them.
He doesn't do anything but watch the chaos unfold, before putting on his helmet, hiding his eyes.
"Thanks, man. Who're you?"
She eventually turns around and waves to him distractedly.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
A man is at the tavern, sitting at the bar, having a drink. Women and men flock to him, stars in their eyes as they try to get his attention. Despite them being close, he seems to ignore them for the most part. He may nod or say hello to them, but beyond that, he sits and sips his drink and occasionally the ones that somehow pile near him as gifts from flustered patrons. He wears a simple white t-shirt that is tight around his pronounced chest muscles, a pair of black jeans, a simple gold chain around his neck, and thick black boots. Around the temples of his brow is a tattoo depicting the tree of life, the details beautiful.
Loriche is out scrounging up scrap metal from anywhere possible.
Malafasa is making another tornado.
*Ah, leaving the choice up to me, how terrible. I'm fine with starting another, so you don't have to go back and get it.*
Rag is meditating in a cave, and the ground around him has turned molten, revealing metals underneath. Generally, Rag's heat is just good for the environment in the long run.
John is watching from with view, as to keep them from being paranoid.
“Hey, nice!” Loriche approaches, takes out her pick, and starts harvesting the metal like it’s Fortnite.
Malafasa, being constantly paranoid, is keeping one eye on him at all times.
He opens an eye, looking down to them "Hello to you too." He grabs one of the ore chunks, pulling it out of the wall and putting it down next to them.
He doesn't do anything but watch the chaos unfold, before putting on his helmet, hiding his eyes.
"Thanks, man. Who're you?"
She eventually turns around and waves to him distractedly.
"Ragnerious, but everyone calls me Rag, and you?"
He waves back, looking to her in the sky curiously, waiting patiently for them to reach the ground.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
So spend your hours on What you think I've done wrong I know I'm in your mind I've been here way too long I want to spend my life With those who've done me right Your heart is frozen over I'm a four-leaf clover
A man is at the tavern, sitting at the bar, having a drink. Women and men flock to him, stars in their eyes as they try to get his attention. Despite them being close, he seems to ignore them for the most part. He may nod or say hello to them, but beyond that, he sits and sips his drink and occasionally the ones that somehow pile near him as gifts from flustered patrons. He wears a simple white t-shirt that is tight around his pronounced chest muscles, a pair of black jeans, a simple gold chain around his neck, and thick black boots. Around the temples of his brow is a tattoo depicting the tree of life, the details beautiful.
*What he looks like:
Leo is sitting at a table alone. He hasn't seemed to notice the man, scribbling on some schematics. He grumbles to himself, the table covered with his blueprints.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
A man is at the tavern, sitting at the bar, having a drink. Women and men flock to him, stars in their eyes as they try to get his attention. Despite them being close, he seems to ignore them for the most part. He may nod or say hello to them, but beyond that, he sits and sips his drink and occasionally the ones that somehow pile near him as gifts from flustered patrons. He wears a simple white t-shirt that is tight around his pronounced chest muscles, a pair of black jeans, a simple gold chain around his neck, and thick black boots. Around the temples of his brow is a tattoo depicting the tree of life, the details beautiful.
*What he looks like:
Leo is sitting at a table alone. He hasn't seemed to notice the man, scribbling on some schematics. He grumbles to himself, the table covered with his blueprints.
The man doesn't seem to notice him either, just trying to enjoy his drink.
A man is at the tavern, sitting at the bar, having a drink. Women and men flock to him, stars in their eyes as they try to get his attention. Despite them being close, he seems to ignore them for the most part. He may nod or say hello to them, but beyond that, he sits and sips his drink and occasionally the ones that somehow pile near him as gifts from flustered patrons. He wears a simple white t-shirt that is tight around his pronounced chest muscles, a pair of black jeans, a simple gold chain around his neck, and thick black boots. Around the temples of his brow is a tattoo depicting the tree of life, the details beautiful.
*What he looks like:
Isaac is at one of the tables examining a metal orb
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
So spend your hours on What you think I've done wrong I know I'm in your mind I've been here way too long I want to spend my life With those who've done me right Your heart is frozen over I'm a four-leaf clover
A man is at the tavern, sitting at the bar, having a drink. Women and men flock to him, stars in their eyes as they try to get his attention. Despite them being close, he seems to ignore them for the most part. He may nod or say hello to them, but beyond that, he sits and sips his drink and occasionally the ones that somehow pile near him as gifts from flustered patrons. He wears a simple white t-shirt that is tight around his pronounced chest muscles, a pair of black jeans, a simple gold chain around his neck, and thick black boots. Around the temples of his brow is a tattoo depicting the tree of life, the details beautiful.
*What he looks like:
Leo is sitting at a table alone. He hasn't seemed to notice the man, scribbling on some schematics. He grumbles to himself, the table covered with his blueprints.
The man doesn't seem to notice him either, just trying to enjoy his drink.
Leo curses as he rips up a blueprint angrily. "Stupid freaking..." he grumbles
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Loriche is out scrounging up scrap metal from anywhere possible.
Malafasa is making another tornado.
*Ah, leaving the choice up to me, how terrible. I'm fine with starting another, so you don't have to go back and get it.*
Rag is meditating in a cave, and the ground around him has turned molten, revealing metals underneath. Generally, Rag's heat is just good for the environment in the long run.
John is watching from with view, as to keep them from being paranoid.
“Hey, nice!” Loriche approaches, takes out her pick, and starts harvesting the metal like it’s Fortnite.
Malafasa, being constantly paranoid, is keeping one eye on him at all times.
He opens an eye, looking down to them "Hello to you too." He grabs one of the ore chunks, pulling it out of the wall and putting it down next to them.
He doesn't do anything but watch the chaos unfold, before putting on his helmet, hiding his eyes.
"Thanks, man. Who're you?"
She eventually turns around and waves to him distractedly.
"Ragnerious, but everyone calls me Rag, and you?"
He waves back, looking to her in the sky curiously, waiting patiently for them to reach the ground.
"Loriche va Bental."
She lands in front of him.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"But then... you just said 'the The Hero's Association'. Shouldn't it just be the HA?"
"How about... Clover?" She picks it up and gently pets it.
Riotan takes out marigold petals and sprinkles them over Stroth's torso. He then takes out a ritual flint knife. "Now, for this part I'll have to take some of your own blood. Where should I cut?"
"I didn't make the title, take it up with my bosses." He shrugs, still smiling.
"Aw that's awesome! I like that one! I was thinking something dumb like Megatron or something."
"Uhh I guess my left leg, it's numb right now." She shrugs before quickly sitting up "Wait! This wasn't the body I had the baby in, is it going to work?"
“I see.” Thirteen writes something down in his journal.
“What’s a megatron?”
“Of course it’ll work. I would never propose something that wouldn’t work.”
He tilts his head before turning to woman and takes a photo with her.
"It's a dude from a comic." He said, smiling "big robotic man."
She nods and lies back down "Sorry.. just worried."
Thirteen just continues to stand there and write.
“…okay, so none of those words mean any more to me than the word ‘Megatron’.” She chuckles.
“Makes sense.” He nods, sliding the blade along her calf, creating the shallowest possible cut to draw blood. He then wipes the blood on his hand and places it over her forehead. “Alright, all set up. You ready?”
The man turns back around and smiles with the same huge, fake smile "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"I still like the name clover." He smiles.
She nods.
“Not really. Just observing, I suppose.” He tucks his sword back into his bag of holding.
“Yeah, it’s pretty good I think.”
“Alright. Now how long did you have the fetus beforehand?”
"Then off with you!" He says, still smiling, as he ushers him off like a child.
"Well Clover, welcome to our little crew." He says.
"Carrying for 8 months at least..'
Thirteen looks agitated but says nothing, departing. *good end?*
Loriche nods and rubs Clover's head.
"Alright." Rio places one hand at the top of her head and the other at her lower midriff. "This may sting."
*Sure!*
Clover leans into her hand and crawls out of Home's arms and on to her shoulder.
She nods and closes her eyes.
*Got anyone else you want to use?*
"Awwwwwww..." Loriche raises that arm like a falconer.
A dull, sore pain radiates from the points of his hand. Riotan begins rasping out twisted hymns in Abyssal.
*I suppose Mauric.*
It stands proudly on her arm, it's tail swishing.
She hisses a bit "Okay, not as numb as I thought."
Mauric is making something with eggs.
Loriche laughs. "I should make her some armor..."
"Just think painless thoughts!" He suggests before continuing the unclean paean.
Harlow walks up to him and nods his head "Hello Mauric."
"Little kitty armor!" he gushes.
"I am trying." She shoots him a look before chuckling.
"Hi!" Mauric smiles at him.
"Yeah but it'd be hard to model. How do you get the measurements of a cat?"
Riotan keeps hissing and uttering his profane lyrics. You begin to feel the rushing of 8 months of natal pain wreaking havoc on your body once more, all in a single flash.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
He happily keeps mopping.
There is a mess of gears, grease, wires and so many other things. "Huh? Oh hey."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"Thanks, man. Who're you?"
She eventually turns around and waves to him distractedly.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Once you are one, you can't be any less of one." He smiles at them, tossing the orb "Is this Lord's point? The town I mean."
She stands back up, stepping back a few feet "Okay, what do ya want ta do first?"
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
A man is at the tavern, sitting at the bar, having a drink. Women and men flock to him, stars in their eyes as they try to get his attention. Despite them being close, he seems to ignore them for the most part. He may nod or say hello to them, but beyond that, he sits and sips his drink and occasionally the ones that somehow pile near him as gifts from flustered patrons. He wears a simple white t-shirt that is tight around his pronounced chest muscles, a pair of black jeans, a simple gold chain around his neck, and thick black boots. Around the temples of his brow is a tattoo depicting the tree of life, the details beautiful.
*What he looks like:
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
"Ragnerious, but everyone calls me Rag, and you?"
He waves back, looking to her in the sky curiously, waiting patiently for them to reach the ground.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
(does anyone want to rp)
So spend your hours on
What you think I've done wrong
I know I'm in your mind
I've been here way too long
I want to spend my life
With those who've done me right
Your heart is frozen over
I'm a four-leaf clover
He catches the orb, examining it. "Yeah. And I used to be an adventurer. Hired help really."
"Combat!"
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Leo is sitting at a table alone. He hasn't seemed to notice the man, scribbling on some schematics. He grumbles to himself, the table covered with his blueprints.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
It's as if he turned a spell into a ball anyone could use, like an infinite use Spell Scroll "Any job is hired help if ya think about it."
She smiles down at them, tilting her head "A kid after my own heart." She takes a fighting stance.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
The man doesn't seem to notice him either, just trying to enjoy his drink.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
Eventually, Mauric smiles and stands up straight. "Okay seriously Nick, just stop. You don't need to do this..."
"...you good?"
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Isaac is at one of the tables examining a metal orb
So spend your hours on
What you think I've done wrong
I know I'm in your mind
I've been here way too long
I want to spend my life
With those who've done me right
Your heart is frozen over
I'm a four-leaf clover
"True I suppose."
He raises his staff in his hands, a poorly made fighting stance.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Leo curses as he rips up a blueprint angrily. "Stupid freaking..." he grumbles
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"Loriche va Bental."
She lands in front of him.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"What do you think? Made that materia myself a while ago."
Init:11
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
"Not bad. Infinite use spell scroll. Could be bad if it gets into the wrong hands."
Init: 5
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"You certainly aren't from here."
He smiles at them form behind his helm "Impressive power. Truly. Were you hurt yesterday?"
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
"It won't be in the wrong hands... unless you're the wrong hands... you're not the wrong hands right?"
(That might beat 11.)
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)