It is spring. The air is fresh and new and ready for new life. Drifting upon this air is a red balloon and a clown hangs underneath this balloon, gripping the thin string. The clown's white-painted face blooms in the middle of a neck ruff of yellow petals. He wears a bright green baggy suit with blossoms for buttons. His slightly oversized shoes touch down on the green grass and small flowers spring up from the soil.
*Oh wait I have a great character for this.*
Someone happens to spot the clown, tilting their head, the screen flashing a pixalated smile with his cords sparking. Dressed in similar attire, with a distinct difference, he isn't a clown, he's a mime. The strange warforged waves over to them, the screen that is their face glitching at slight intervoles, not enough to seem damaged, but bizarre.
The clown notices you. He shuffles over with the balloon still in hand. "Bonjour, my friend!" He says, extending his hand to you. A few pink flower petals fall from his flower-ruffed sleeve as he does so. "It is a wonderful day, is it not?"
It is spring. The air is fresh and new and ready for new life. Drifting upon this air is a red balloon and a clown hangs underneath this balloon, gripping the thin string. The clown's white-painted face blooms in the middle of a neck ruff of yellow petals. He wears a bright green baggy suit with blossoms for buttons. His slightly oversized shoes touch down on the green grass and small flowers spring up from the soil.
*Oh wait I have a great character for this.*
Someone happens to spot the clown, tilting their head, the screen flashing a pixalated smile with his cords sparking. Dressed in similar attire, with a distinct difference, he isn't a clown, he's a mime. The strange warforged waves over to them, the screen that is their face glitching at slight intervoles, not enough to seem damaged, but bizarre.
The clown notices you. He shuffles over with the balloon still in hand. "Bonjour, my friend!" He says, extending his hand to you. A few pink flower petals fall from his flower-ruffed sleeve as he does so. "It is a wonderful day, is it not?"
He takes the hand, shaking it with the firm and cold metal of his own, nodding as his face shows a smile and the artificial paint of a mime's black and white. He looks to the balloon, before looking back to them, pointing at it silently.
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.'
It is spring. The air is fresh and new and ready for new life. Drifting upon this air is a red balloon and a clown hangs underneath this balloon, gripping the thin string. The clown's white-painted face blooms in the middle of a neck ruff of yellow petals. He wears a bright green baggy suit with blossoms for buttons. His slightly oversized shoes touch down on the green grass and small flowers spring up from the soil.
*Oh wait I have a great character for this.*
Someone happens to spot the clown, tilting their head, the screen flashing a pixalated smile with his cords sparking. Dressed in similar attire, with a distinct difference, he isn't a clown, he's a mime. The strange warforged waves over to them, the screen that is their face glitching at slight intervoles, not enough to seem damaged, but bizarre.
The clown notices you. He shuffles over with the balloon still in hand. "Bonjour, my friend!" He says, extending his hand to you. A few pink flower petals fall from his flower-ruffed sleeve as he does so. "It is a wonderful day, is it not?"
He takes the hand, shaking it with the firm and cold metal of his own, nodding as his face shows a smile and the artificial paint of a mime's black and white. He looks to the balloon, before looking back to them, pointing at it silently.
"Oh yes, thanks for reminding me!" He pulls what looks like a long thorn out from his sleeve. In one swift motion, he pops the balloon with it and a great swarm of silvery fish with feathered wings explode out into the air. They dart about before disappearing behind blades of grass, flower blossoms, leaves, and tree branches. "There we go. Now both hands are free to greet you properly." He then flicks the thorn away and shakes your hand with both of his own hands.
Ana's mother turns to them, "Oh dear, would you like to explain why my daughter seems to be made of magma?"
She eventually breaks the hug, some donut powder still around her mouth that she doesn't notice.
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.)
He snaps the neck of the cultist easily. "it isnt my blood."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"Ah...well...ah..." Leo stammers.
X grabs a handkerchief, wiping her mouth off.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Ana takes one of their hands, rubbing the back, trying to calm them down.
She giggles, smiling brightly at them again.
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.)
Leo just kind of shuts down, staring at his lap.
"Alright, whaddya wanna do today?"
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Ana's mother comfortingly pats their head, going back to talking with Ana as she continues to rub their hand.
"I don't know, anything really, what do you want to do?"
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.)
He laughs, "Well, i'm not exactly one for hand to hand, but i respect that"
Leo just holds her hand softly.
He shrugs. "Dunno."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Theren smiles again. "Whats your name kid."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The clown notices you. He shuffles over with the balloon still in hand. "Bonjour, my friend!" He says, extending his hand to you. A few pink flower petals fall from his flower-ruffed sleeve as he does so. "It is a wonderful day, is it not?"
She kisses their cheek, leaning against them just enough.
"Well we'll find something, come on." She turns a random direction and begins walking.
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.)
Leo idly listens to the conversation.
X walks beside her.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
He takes the hand, shaking it with the firm and cold metal of his own, nodding as his face shows a smile and the artificial paint of a mime's black and white. He looks to the balloon, before looking back to them, pointing at it silently.
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.)
"Uriel, Uriel Salamandras, at your service." he says politely
She begins talking about them, how they met, more paraphrasing than the actual complete truth.
They lead them to a restaurant, Samaritan's restaurant.
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.)
"Theren, Theren Dotsk at yours." he says with a bow
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
(good morning everyone)
they/her Always open to chat. Just send me a PM
I am failure and perfection
Without grace, but I am tired
Of walking life like it's a wire
He smiles and mimics the bow
*Hiiii*
"Oh yes, thanks for reminding me!" He pulls what looks like a long thorn out from his sleeve. In one swift motion, he pops the balloon with it and a great swarm of silvery fish with feathered wings explode out into the air. They dart about before disappearing behind blades of grass, flower blossoms, leaves, and tree branches. "There we go. Now both hands are free to greet you properly." He then flicks the thorn away and shakes your hand with both of his own hands.