*-yawn- Mornin folks. Its pourin rain rather heavily here.*
Oliver is sitting in the corner of the orphanage playing with a toy train silently.
Leo is making glass sculptures out of sand. He frowns in concentration.
Phoenix is cleaning his weapons, making sure they are in tip top shape.
*I haven’t gotten anything where I’m at yet.*
Merabelle watches them, she doesn’t want to interrupt, so she also remains silent.
Ana isn’t worried about simple things like structural integrity so she’s just making sand castles, parts of which turn to glass from her now burning arm.
Eithan (the silver armored knight in introed yesterday.) is doing the same with his blade, his feet unwittingly sitting in a pool of blood from his own creation.
He sees a half-elf sat in one of the chairs outside, at a table, playing some music to his animal companions. The half-elf waves to the dwarf. 'Nice day, ain't it?'
"It aint too bad." he says with a smile.
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Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
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
*Looks like I’m alive once more, but I am alone, so why bother.*
*Why be alone when you can be afraid instead?*
*Honestly, that sounds better. Good to see you Baalze, I feel like making a villain with a dedicated and loving sidekick.*
*Awesome. I'm making Porter Sinclair as a character again. Inspirations so far include: Toji Fushiguro, Vampire Hunter D, Taro Sakomoto, Harry Dresden, and Jotaro Kujo. Glass cannon gish is what I'm going for to fit with his latest lore: he has very high Spiritual Sensitivity, so he's vulnerable to the paranormal even while stable and calm, and is a powerful mage without using Dark Energy.*
*Thats a lot of inspirations, but I’ve got a few of my own for my next character idea. To counter the whole glass cannon thing, my guy is like Prospero or Fatgum, he takes in all the attacks that he can, stores the energy, and makes it come out multiplied by two. Outside of that, his powers are unless and he’s just a pugilist.*
*-yawn- Mornin folks. Its pourin rain rather heavily here.*
Theren is tending to his dislocated shoulder. He has popped it back into place and is working on putting it into a sling.
Oscar is sitting in a decimated cathedral, heavily wounded. Blood stains his sword, shield and armor.
Oliver is sitting in the corner of the orphanage playing with a toy train silently.
Leo is making glass sculptures out of sand. He frowns in concentration.
Phoenix is cleaning his weapons, making sure they are in tip top shape.
-and you know what. I'm sick of having this character dead.-
Walking slowly towards the Inn is an old dwarf with a hammer over his back. He uses a cane to slowly hobble forward, his jet black hair braided with childish beads given to him by some old friend long ago.
*-yawn- Mornin folks. Its pourin rain rather heavily here.*
Oliver is sitting in the corner of the orphanage playing with a toy train silently.
Leo is making glass sculptures out of sand. He frowns in concentration.
Phoenix is cleaning his weapons, making sure they are in tip top shape.
*I haven’t gotten anything where I’m at yet.*
Merabelle watches them, she doesn’t want to interrupt, so she also remains silent.
Ana isn’t worried about simple things like structural integrity so she’s just making sand castles, parts of which turn to glass from her now burning arm.
Eithan (the silver armored knight in introed yesterday.) is doing the same with his blade, his feet unwittingly sitting in a pool of blood from his own creation.
*Shame*
He pushes the train back and forth slowly.
Leo looks over, his mechanic brain having a panic attack at the poor structural integrity.
"You got blood on yer feet." he says, not looking
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.
*-yawn- Mornin folks. Its pourin rain rather heavily here.*
Oliver is sitting in the corner of the orphanage playing with a toy train silently.
Leo is making glass sculptures out of sand. He frowns in concentration.
Phoenix is cleaning his weapons, making sure they are in tip top shape.
*I haven’t gotten anything where I’m at yet.*
Merabelle watches them, she doesn’t want to interrupt, so she also remains silent.
Ana isn’t worried about simple things like structural integrity so she’s just making sand castles, parts of which turn to glass from her now burning arm.
Eithan (the silver armored knight in introed yesterday.) is doing the same with his blade, his feet unwittingly sitting in a pool of blood from his own creation.
*Shame*
He pushes the train back and forth slowly.
Leo looks over, his mechanic brain having a panic attack at the poor structural integrity.
"You got blood on yer feet." he says, not looking
*It is what it is. I’ll just do a rain dance for acid rain later/j*
She frowns, and with some magic words some of the wood floors shift, becoming train tracks for them.
She looks back over to them and smiles at how perfect theirs is, “Dear, what do you think of mine? Be honest.”
He looks down to his armored boots, sighing before taking them off, beginning to pluck shards of glass out of his feet “Thank you.” His voice is charismatic and friendly
*-yawn- Mornin folks. Its pourin rain rather heavily here.*
Oliver is sitting in the corner of the orphanage playing with a toy train silently.
Leo is making glass sculptures out of sand. He frowns in concentration.
Phoenix is cleaning his weapons, making sure they are in tip top shape.
*I haven’t gotten anything where I’m at yet.*
Merabelle watches them, she doesn’t want to interrupt, so she also remains silent.
Ana isn’t worried about simple things like structural integrity so she’s just making sand castles, parts of which turn to glass from her now burning arm.
Eithan (the silver armored knight in introed yesterday.) is doing the same with his blade, his feet unwittingly sitting in a pool of blood from his own creation.
*Shame*
He pushes the train back and forth slowly.
Leo looks over, his mechanic brain having a panic attack at the poor structural integrity.
"You got blood on yer feet." he says, not looking
*It is what it is. I’ll just do a rain dance for acid rain later/j*
She frowns, and with some magic words some of the wood floors shift, becoming train tracks for them.
She looks back over to them and smiles at how perfect theirs is, “Dear, what do you think of mine? Be honest.”
He looks down to his armored boots, sighing before taking them off, beginning to pluck shards of glass out of his feet “Thank you.” His voice is charismatic and friendly
*Oh. well, thats not good.*
Oliver frowns, moving the train off the tracks.
"Its...ah....its fine." he says with a smile.
He nods. "No problem."
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Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Misha is at her butcher's shop, humming a hymn to herself as she skins a deer carcass.
Nathan is sharpening his knife outside the tavern, listening to the radio,
Aix is in his factory, working on a new design for a skin oil.
Oscar walks inside, blood staining his armor.
Walking slowly towards the Inn is an old dwarf with a hammer over his back. He uses a cane to slowly hobble forward, his jet black hair braided with childish beads given to him by some old friend long ago.
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.
*I haven’t gotten anything where I’m at yet.*
Merabelle watches them, she doesn’t want to interrupt, so she also remains silent.
Ana isn’t worried about simple things like structural integrity so she’s just making sand castles, parts of which turn to glass from her now burning arm.
Eithan (the silver armored knight in introed yesterday.) is doing the same with his blade, his feet unwittingly sitting in a pool of blood from his own creation.
"It aint too bad." he says with a smile.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
(hi theren)
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
'Been a long time since I've been back here myself, what about you?'
You guys are awesome and mean so much to me. And mean so much to each other.
*Thats a lot of inspirations, but I’ve got a few of my own for my next character idea. To counter the whole glass cannon thing, my guy is like Prospero or Fatgum, he takes in all the attacks that he can, stores the energy, and makes it come out multiplied by two. Outside of that, his powers are unless and he’s just a pugilist.*
*same*
Extended signature
*Ah broski, when other people are on, it’s best to quote who you’re rping with.*
*Shame*
He pushes the train back and forth slowly.
Leo looks over, his mechanic brain having a panic attack at the poor structural integrity.
"You got blood on yer feet." he says, not looking
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
*sorry, it was with Theren*
You guys are awesome and mean so much to me. And mean so much to each other.
*Oh I know, but others may get confused.*
*It is what it is. I’ll just do a rain dance for acid rain later/j*
She frowns, and with some magic words some of the wood floors shift, becoming train tracks for them.
She looks back over to them and smiles at how perfect theirs is, “Dear, what do you think of mine? Be honest.”
He looks down to his armored boots, sighing before taking them off, beginning to pluck shards of glass out of his feet “Thank you.” His voice is charismatic and friendly
*Oh. well, thats not good.*
Oliver frowns, moving the train off the tracks.
"Its...ah....its fine." he says with a smile.
He nods. "No problem."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
*Cut for Theren. Maybe for the people outside.*
She frowns only the more, but removes the tracks, continuing to watch.
She scoots over to them, putting a hand to the side of their face, “I asked you to be honest, dear.”
“I don’t believe I’ve met you before, it’s a pleasure.” He says.
Misha is at her butcher's shop, humming a hymn to herself as she skins a deer carcass.
Nathan is sharpening his knife outside the tavern, listening to the radio,
Aix is in his factory, working on a new design for a skin oil.
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
Merabelle walks by the shop, an owlbear corpse resting on her shoulders as she leans down a bit to look inside.
Eithan looks over to them, wearing his armor, and yet somehow still able to drink a glass of water.
*true*
He idly pushes the train, staring at the ground.
"its not structurally sound." he mutters
"Names Phoenix, pleasures all mine."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The inside is rather nice. A lot of plants of every kind sitting and hanging in the window sills. The front has a working display for meat cuts.
Nathan looks up and over, tipping his hat at them.
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
Merabelle scoots over to them, “Sweetheart, ya gotta tell me what’s wrong, do ya blame yerself fer what happened?”
She laughs a bit, putting her forehead to his, “That’s all you had to say, want to help me fix it?”
He chuckles, shaking his head “Phoenix, a noble name for a hopefully noble person. I am Eithan.”
Oscar walks inside, blood staining his armor.
Walking slowly towards the Inn is an old dwarf with a hammer over his back. He uses a cane to slowly hobble forward, his jet black hair braided with childish beads given to him by some old friend long ago.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
He nods, still pushing the train.
He nods. "Very much so."
"Pleasure." he says, looking up
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.