He sighs, rubbing his chin with his regrown hand, “I don’t want to call you dumb, because that would be wrong, but why did you kill him? He had a warrant, now someone else is going to come, you’ve made that a fact. Now I’m going to have to frame myself for the murder. Where’s the weapon you used?” He says, looking over to them.
“This isn’t just stress. What’s up?” He asks again, a little more firmly this time.
He sighs, rubbing his chin with his regrown hand, “I don’t want to call you dumb, because that would be wrong, but why did you kill him? He had a warrant, now someone else is going to come, you’ve made that a fact. Now I’m going to have to frame myself for the murder. Where’s the weapon you used?” He says, looking over to them.
“This isn’t just stress. What’s up?” He asks again, a little more firmly this time.
"No, NO!" She violently shakes her head as she presses her hands to her ears "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"My ex-huband wishes to go to trial again.. on the day of my wedding.." he grumbles
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
Rag hears the singing and comes into the tavern, finding Skwancy harmed there. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, the temperature simply begins rising in the room as Rag’s gaze analyzes all of their wounds. He sits down next to them, a bit of the ground cracking under his weight. Hes completely silent.
He sighs and looks up at the larger dragon with his big yellow eyes as he lowers his instrument. Blood runs over his left one. His sunglasses are missing one and a half lenses. "I'm sorry. I thought I could do it." He swallows hard, looking away as if expecting a physical or verbal blow.
He puts his hand softly on their head, healing them 100hp before sighing, smiling softly down at them, “You look just like I used to, beaten and bloodied after trying to do the right thing. I wasn’t as strong as I am now for a long time, and you won’t be either, thank you for trying to help.” He takes his hand off of them, the room cooling as he calms down.
He sighs, rubbing his chin with his regrown hand, “I don’t want to call you dumb, because that would be wrong, but why did you kill him? He had a warrant, now someone else is going to come, you’ve made that a fact. Now I’m going to have to frame myself for the murder. Where’s the weapon you used?” He says, looking over to them.
“This isn’t just stress. What’s up?” He asks again, a little more firmly this time.
"No, NO!" She violently shakes her head as she presses her hands to her ears "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"My ex-huband wishes to go to trial again.. on the day of my wedding.." he grumbles
He raises a hand up to them, putting it to the side of their face, “Don’t apologize to me, and stop yelling, you’ll attract someone.” He begins to rub his hands all over the body.
“Okay, I’ll kill him, deny knowing you, and go to jail for another hundred years. Does that sound fine with you? Actually, don’t answer that, just start describing your ex husband.”
*[Throws characters at a wall and watches them stick to it]*
*Here yall go, feast now.*
Misha is outside, half in a panic and half absolutely ravenous. One of the policemen under Thorne's watch has been killed and she now drags his mangled body into the woods. Half her body sprouts black feathers that seem to have an iridescent shine or sort when the fading sun hits it at the right angle. She is nearly on the verge of tears, praying to god that the soul of this man finds heaven.
Samaritan is punching a bag that hangs from a tree, landing deadly punches that would break a normal person's bones in one hit. He looks mad and even William is giving him some distance.
Angel is sitting on the surface of the lake, meditating. His body seems to warp almost, like it isn't here but also is. His large black eyes are closed but when he opens them, it is like they hold the universe in them.
Skwancy waddles over, bleeding and dragging one of his forelegs. He doesn't seem to be able to see properly through the blood, or maybe he just doesn't care as he heads straight for Samaritan.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He sighs and looks up at the larger dragon with his big yellow eyes as he lowers his instrument. Blood runs over his left one. His sunglasses are missing one and a half lenses. "I'm sorry. I thought I could do it." He swallows hard, looking away as if expecting a physical or verbal blow.
He puts his hand softly on their head, healing them 100hp before sighing, smiling softly down at them, “You look just like I used to, beaten and bloodied after trying to do the right thing. I wasn’t as strong as I am now for a long time, and you won’t be either, thank you for trying to help.” He takes his hand off of them, the room cooling as he calms down.
He's healed, but the blood already outside his body remains, staining his clothes and skin. He nods. "You're welcome. And thank you, that helped a lot. I still want to try. As long as I can fight, I will. As long as I can still be healed, I can fight. I should change my tune."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He sighs and looks up at the larger dragon with his big yellow eyes as he lowers his instrument. Blood runs over his left one. His sunglasses are missing one and a half lenses. "I'm sorry. I thought I could do it." He swallows hard, looking away as if expecting a physical or verbal blow.
He puts his hand softly on their head, healing them 100hp before sighing, smiling softly down at them, “You look just like I used to, beaten and bloodied after trying to do the right thing. I wasn’t as strong as I am now for a long time, and you won’t be either, thank you for trying to help.” He takes his hand off of them, the room cooling as he calms down.
He's healed, but the blood already outside his body remains, staining his clothes and skin. He nods. "You're welcome. And thank you, that helped a lot. I still want to try. As long as I can fight, I will. As long as I can still be healed, I can fight. I should change my tune."
“You should train yourself if you are going to do stupid things like be a hero, if not, please let me actually train you, and not just tell you I will. We are going to set a time of day, and for an hour every day we are going to train, if not more than an hour. Understood?”
He's healed, but the blood already outside his body remains, staining his clothes and skin. He nods. "You're welcome. And thank you, that helped a lot. I still want to try. As long as I can fight, I will. As long as I can still be healed, I can fight. I should change my tune."
“You should train yourself if you are going to do stupid things like be a hero, if not, please let me actually train you, and not just tell you I will. We are going to set a time of day, and for an hour every day we are going to train, if not more than an hour. Understood?”
"Understood. I'm also training with Samaritan, but I'm not strong or fast enough to use a lot of his techniques."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He's healed, but the blood already outside his body remains, staining his clothes and skin. He nods. "You're welcome. And thank you, that helped a lot. I still want to try. As long as I can fight, I will. As long as I can still be healed, I can fight. I should change my tune."
“You should train yourself if you are going to do stupid things like be a hero, if not, please let me actually train you, and not just tell you I will. We are going to set a time of day, and for an hour every day we are going to train, if not more than an hour. Understood?”
"Understood. I'm also training with Samaritan, but I'm not strong or fast enough to use a lot of his techniques."
“Then let’s get that strength and speed of yours up. Then we’ll get to techniques.” He stands up, walking outside and expecting them to follow after.
*I'm thinking of bringing in a Nightmare as a more overt villain. Elil (Hebrew for "Idol"), the Nightmare Messiah. Basically religious trauma turned to massive physical trauma, but could slowly go on a redemption arc.*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Wonderful! Here's the characters I have available at the moment- feel free to use any characters you want!*
KK is continuing her experiments with the Old Blood, recording its effects on animated inanimate material- namely, the severed and still-twitching arm of a Mannequin- if any occur.
Omori is continuing to practice her magic, still trying to cast Moonbeam to no avail, though learning more with each attempt.
It explodes into flames, though the flesh heals as it burns, which is incredibly interesting. Henry comes over in his suit, looking like the world’s most dapper insane person, double O seven style good looking.
Top comes out of nowhere, picks them up, and keeps running, “Don’t worry, not kidnapping you, your mother asked me to bring you back to the orphanage.”
*Apologies for the delay*
"Fascinating..." She mutters to herself, changing one of her fingers to a long shadowy spike and placing it delicately on the page of her notepad- words of shadowy ink form on the paper as she moves the claw across it, pausing every so often as she thinks. She looks over at Henry as he approaches, her smile growing a touch wider. "Good morning, dear."
Omori can barely register what's going on for a second, before responding. "W- Wait, what? What's happening back at the orphanage?"
*Sorry for my own delay.*
“Dear, I do believe it’s evening, either way, how goes the experimentation?” He asks, putting his cane over his shoulder as he looks at the ever burning hand, “Have we considered once again experimenting on living subjects? The results may be like something I’ve seen before.” He takes out his own journal, flipping to the pages on the Dark Beasts.
“Don’t know, I was just told to get you, your mom was just telling me to come get you, and to do it fast, and you know I’m the best at being things fast.” He says as they blur through the forest towards the orphanage.
"It is?.. I must have been working on this for longer than I thought." She responds, thinking for a moment about his suggestion. "I hadn't considered it, but I'm certainly not opposed to it. Where would we get live test subjects, though? I don't want to test on people, and I think Merabelle would get mad if we used forest animals..." She trails off, weighing her options.
"O- Oh, okay. Did she- did she say anything about what it might be?" She manages to respond, still somewhat disoriented.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*tired of having well liked characters, here's some potential pieces of [GP]*
There exists a man who was forged in fear, quenched in spite, and born in blood, like his father and his father before him. Within the males of this lineage, there resides a dark passenger, and it always puts one hand on the wheel after the third birthday. The office of the men and the demons they've learned to control, generation after generation, is a well lit, plastic lined, perfectly clean kill room. The wicked purge the greater of wicked in this world. This is the life of River Morgan, and he's found his home in the outskirts of Lord's Point, a well kept shippingni container
As the stars blink sleepily away, beckoning forth the sun, one younger woman is ending her day. She steps forward into the light, staring up at the sign of merabelle's foster home. She's just old enough to have come out of the system, but can't stay away. She's decent height of 6'2, slightly overweight but toned and taned, and a southern girl at heart. Her spurs jangle as she shifts to wipe her slacks off, adjusting her vest as well.
"And he just sits there all day.." is what anybody who's asked about Will ends their recounting with. His name is Will, and he just wants what's best for you. He's a white raigaar with piercing blue eyes and a braided mane. His clothes are baggy, sporty golf player like, and he's very strong and tall. His name is Will, and he just sits in the booth in the tavern, leaned back against the wall, eyes flickering to anybody who passes, a polite smile and a nice conversation in tow to anybody who stops.
His name is Will, and he just wants what's best for you.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Error. (Traceback) line 1, <Salem> is undefined. >Attemp <EXTENDED SIG>? Jester Day 5/1... We'll miss you YESNO I'm on more than Gonzalo and Bananer, trust B)
*Anyway, since I’m here, does anyone want to rp? Yall probably don’t, but it’s good to ask.*
*aeiou*
*And sometimes y? I’ll take that as a yes.*
*Can I get Sersha and Ambrosia?*
*Of course you may.*
Ambrosia has eaten a man whole, and is currently dissolving what remains, her bug like mouth dripping some kind of acid onto the evidence.
Sersha is sharpening her sister, or at least what remains of her as her spear, thinking about when they used to be a family.
Riotan wanders up behind her. “You’re really wasting all of that?”
Mala lands behind you, holding something behind her back. “Hi…”
She looks over to them, the mandibles in her mouth folding back “All the blood is gone, and I have no need for what’s left, you may have it.”
She looks up to them, pulling down her bandana and smiling at them, “Hi, my love.”
“Oh sweet.” He hurries over and begins devouring the damp remains.
“I wanted to apologize. You’ve been doing so many nice things for me, and I haven’t been putting in the effort in return.“
Most of it has already dissolved, but there are still some useful pieces. She helps pick out pieces.
She shakes her head, looking confused by that, “What do you mean? Your attention at all means so much, and I couldn’t hope for anymore.”
“Thanksh.” He mumbles. “Hey. Wanna come to my wedding?”
“Well, you’re getting more anyway.” She holds out an elaborately crafted glass necklace ending with several strange runic characters. “I made it with sand that I got from a desert… flew a couple days to get there. The letters are Auran. They mean ‘treasured’.”
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.
*tired of having well liked characters, here's some potential pieces of [GP]*
There exists a man who was forged in fear, quenched in spite, and born in blood, like his father and his father before him. Within the males of this lineage, there resides a dark passenger, and it always puts one hand on the wheel after the third birthday. The office of the men and the demons they've learned to control, generation after generation, is a well lit, plastic lined, perfectly clean kill room. The wicked purge the greater of wicked in this world. This is the life of River Morgan, and he's found his home in the outskirts of Lord's Point, a well kept shippingni container
As the stars blink sleepily away, beckoning forth the sun, one younger woman is ending her day. She steps forward into the light, staring up at the sign of merabelle's foster home. She's just old enough to have come out of the system, but can't stay away. She's decent height of 6'2, slightly overweight but toned and taned, and a southern girl at heart. Her spurs jangle as she shifts to wipe her slacks off, adjusting her vest as well.
"And he just sits there all day.." is what anybody who's asked about Will ends their recounting with. His name is Will, and he just wants what's best for you. He's a white raigaar with piercing blue eyes and a braided mane. His clothes are baggy, sporty golf player like, and he's very strong and tall. His name is Will, and he just sits in the booth in the tavern, leaned back against the wall, eyes flickering to anybody who passes, a polite smile and a nice conversation in tow to anybody who stops.
His name is Will, and he just wants what's best for you.
Loriche is roaming the wilderness, looking for something to salvage.
Riotan is just wandering the world, looking for trouble.
Thirteen is seated, writing as usual, cat on shoulder.
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.
*Hey everybody, I’m here, but not for long, just wanted to tell yall, don’t want anybody worried about me or anything. Love yall. Anyone want to talk for a lil?*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
*Cut for Wendi.*
He sighs, rubbing his chin with his regrown hand, “I don’t want to call you dumb, because that would be wrong, but why did you kill him? He had a warrant, now someone else is going to come, you’ve made that a fact. Now I’m going to have to frame myself for the murder. Where’s the weapon you used?” He says, looking over to them.
“This isn’t just stress. What’s up?” He asks again, a little more firmly this time.
"No, NO!" She violently shakes her head as she presses her hands to her ears "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"My ex-huband wishes to go to trial again.. on the day of my wedding.." he grumbles
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
He puts his hand softly on their head, healing them 100hp before sighing, smiling softly down at them, “You look just like I used to, beaten and bloodied after trying to do the right thing. I wasn’t as strong as I am now for a long time, and you won’t be either, thank you for trying to help.” He takes his hand off of them, the room cooling as he calms down.
He raises a hand up to them, putting it to the side of their face, “Don’t apologize to me, and stop yelling, you’ll attract someone.” He begins to rub his hands all over the body.
“Okay, I’ll kill him, deny knowing you, and go to jail for another hundred years. Does that sound fine with you? Actually, don’t answer that, just start describing your ex husband.”
Skwancy waddles over, bleeding and dragging one of his forelegs. He doesn't seem to be able to see properly through the blood, or maybe he just doesn't care as he heads straight for Samaritan.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He's healed, but the blood already outside his body remains, staining his clothes and skin. He nods. "You're welcome. And thank you, that helped a lot. I still want to try. As long as I can fight, I will. As long as I can still be healed, I can fight. I should change my tune."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
“You should train yourself if you are going to do stupid things like be a hero, if not, please let me actually train you, and not just tell you I will. We are going to set a time of day, and for an hour every day we are going to train, if not more than an hour. Understood?”
"Understood. I'm also training with Samaritan, but I'm not strong or fast enough to use a lot of his techniques."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
“Then let’s get that strength and speed of yours up. Then we’ll get to techniques.” He stands up, walking outside and expecting them to follow after.
“Oh sweet.” He hurries over and begins devouring the damp remains.
“I wanted to apologize. You’ve been doing so many nice things for me, and I haven’t been putting in the effort in return.“
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 does so, leaving his violin behind.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Most of it has already dissolved, but there are still some useful pieces. She helps pick out pieces.
She shakes her head, looking confused by that, “What do you mean? Your attention at all means so much, and I couldn’t hope for anymore.”
He takes them to an open field. He waits for them to catch up, patiently smiling at them.
*I'm thinking of bringing in a Nightmare as a more overt villain. Elil (Hebrew for "Idol"), the Nightmare Messiah. Basically religious trauma turned to massive physical trauma, but could slowly go on a redemption arc.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He looks around, just admiring nature for a bit.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"It is?.. I must have been working on this for longer than I thought." She responds, thinking for a moment about his suggestion. "I hadn't considered it, but I'm certainly not opposed to it. Where would we get live test subjects, though? I don't want to test on people, and I think Merabelle would get mad if we used forest animals..." She trails off, weighing her options.
"O- Oh, okay. Did she- did she say anything about what it might be?" She manages to respond, still somewhat disoriented.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*tired of having well liked characters, here's some potential pieces of [GP]*
There exists a man who was forged in fear, quenched in spite, and born in blood, like his father and his father before him. Within the males of this lineage, there resides a dark passenger, and it always puts one hand on the wheel after the third birthday. The office of the men and the demons they've learned to control, generation after generation, is a well lit, plastic lined, perfectly clean kill room. The wicked purge the greater of wicked in this world. This is the life of River Morgan, and he's found his home in the outskirts of Lord's Point, a well kept shippingni container
As the stars blink sleepily away, beckoning forth the sun, one younger woman is ending her day. She steps forward into the light, staring up at the sign of merabelle's foster home. She's just old enough to have come out of the system, but can't stay away. She's decent height of 6'2, slightly overweight but toned and taned, and a southern girl at heart. Her spurs jangle as she shifts to wipe her slacks off, adjusting her vest as well.
"And he just sits there all day.." is what anybody who's asked about Will ends their recounting with. His name is Will, and he just wants what's best for you. He's a white raigaar with piercing blue eyes and a braided mane. His clothes are baggy, sporty golf player like, and he's very strong and tall. His name is Will, and he just sits in the booth in the tavern, leaned back against the wall, eyes flickering to anybody who passes, a polite smile and a nice conversation in tow to anybody who stops.
His name is Will, and he just wants what's best for you.
Error. (Traceback) line 1, <Salem> is undefined.
>Attemp <EXTENDED SIG>? Jester Day 5/1... We'll miss you
YES NO I'm on more than Gonzalo and Bananer, trust B)
My Threads: Anytown, USA and Sanctuary [Links]
S♡J
2-13-25
“Thanksh.” He mumbles. “Hey. Wanna come to my wedding?”
“Well, you’re getting more anyway.” She holds out an elaborately crafted glass necklace ending with several strange runic characters. “I made it with sand that I got from a desert… flew a couple days to get there. The letters are Auran. They mean ‘treasured’.”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Loriche is roaming the wilderness, looking for something to salvage.
Riotan is just wandering the world, looking for trouble.
Thirteen is seated, writing as usual, cat on shoulder.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*Hey everybody, I’m here, but not for long, just wanted to tell yall, don’t want anybody worried about me or anything. Love yall. Anyone want to talk for a lil?*