"I'm an artificial intelligence built with a technology akin to clerical magic. I also act defensively towards combatants, featuring a housing compartment."
She takes the food and the water, eating as if it could be her last for a while, guzzling the water when she's done.
She takes her chunk of the food, thanking Annabelle, smiling brightly.
"Really? Are you completely artificial? I... I used to be kinda like a robot... my dad put my brain into a machine... he said it was to protect me."
He watches them, sitting down on the ground next to the bed, playing his guitar and humming along "Good."
"yer welcome, eat till yer full."
"Everything but my fuel source is human made. I run on a water engine."
She puts the plate off to the side and grabs a few things to doodle with
She begins to eat, enjoying every single bite.
"A water engine? Thats... can I see the blueprint?" He asks, looking up at them.
He stays close to them, eyes shifting around as if suspicious of everything.
"So, how ya been?"
A hatch in his chest opens up, and a man crawls out of it. The man is lanky, tall, and thin. He wears dark-brown slacks, a turtleneck of the same color, and black round glasses. His face is round, his black hair short and scrankly. "Classified, sorry."
She draws a color accurate sketch of them, smiling
“Thievin’s been best as it ever has, finally got some water back ta the home town an’ now they’re doin’ well fer themselves. How ‘bout ya?”
He nods understandingly “Nice to meet you too, sir. I’m Tim, but I think I told you that already.” He smiles brightly, clinging to his magic book and looking up at them.
He watches curiously, raising an eyebrow, “You… are a good artist Mrya.”
"I'm an artificial intelligence built with a technology akin to clerical magic. I also act defensively towards combatants, featuring a housing compartment."
She takes the food and the water, eating as if it could be her last for a while, guzzling the water when she's done.
She takes her chunk of the food, thanking Annabelle, smiling brightly.
"Really? Are you completely artificial? I... I used to be kinda like a robot... my dad put my brain into a machine... he said it was to protect me."
He watches them, sitting down on the ground next to the bed, playing his guitar and humming along "Good."
"yer welcome, eat till yer full."
"Everything but my fuel source is human made. I run on a water engine."
She puts the plate off to the side and grabs a few things to doodle with
She begins to eat, enjoying every single bite.
"A water engine? Thats... can I see the blueprint?" He asks, looking up at them.
He stays close to them, eyes shifting around as if suspicious of everything.
"So, how ya been?"
A hatch in his chest opens up, and a man crawls out of it. The man is lanky, tall, and thin. He wears dark-brown slacks, a turtleneck of the same color, and black round glasses. His face is round, his black hair short and scrankly. "Classified, sorry."
She draws a color accurate sketch of them, smiling
“Thievin’s been best as it ever has, finally got some water back ta the home town an’ now they’re doin’ well fer themselves. How ‘bout ya?”
He nods understandingly “Nice to meet you too, sir. I’m Tim, but I think I told you that already.” He smiles brightly, clinging to his magic book and looking up at them.
He watches curiously, raising an eyebrow, “You… are a good artist Mrya.”
"I been fine, found a sweetheart I ain't likely ta steal from."
"I'm Spark. You've met my creation." he smiles, gesturing to GD
"Thank you! Myra likes to draw fluffy protecter."
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)
*Here comes my first Stugel, this one's kinda long, sorry.*
Sitting above the coast is a cliff, strange in how it has grown to be that why, likely a result of the water crashing against the base of it, leading to the area above seeming to loom over the deep waters beneath. A house used to sit on that cliff, it was Old Victorian in appearance, two stories, very nice building, but all that sits there now, is a wreck, someone caused the house to burn to the ground, leaving nothing but ashes and the occasional piece of structure remaining.
Sitting in the middle of this destroyed building are two people, and only one of them is sitting there by choice. A tall... Stugel, and not tall for a Stugel, tall for a human, sitting in one of the chairs, somewhere over 6ft tall, broad shouldered with defined muscles, though he does have some visible chub. He's sitting in front of the other, his fluffy body has an ethereal blue hue, and spots in-between the fur that seem to be simply black, he's got ears with multiple points to them, some kind of hybrid, clearly. Blood drips from the person in front of him, as well as his hands. He's dressed in the attire of a working man, black jeans, a tight white t shirt, and suspenders that match the blue of his fur. He seems to be waiting for the person in front of him to wake up, and eventually, they do.
Nathaniel wakes up, last thing he remembers, he was hired to assassinate some boss of some infamous gang, and he couldn't probably done it too, if it weren't for the fact they turned out to be much stronger than first advertised. His body has been beaten so badly he went unconscious, and when he woke up he could only see out of one eye. He looks around the place, trying to move and finding himself tied up. The Stugel grabs him by the chin and they make eye contact, the Stugel's eyes the same color as his fur, with hints of deep purple. Then, Nathaniel recognizes where they are, he was sent here a few... what is it, ten years back to kill some weird family, a Gith, a Stugel and their kid, and he did it too, burned the place to the ground. Things start to click for him... 'Oh no... oh gods no...' the Stugel stands up from his chair, lighting a cigar and putting the lighter away as Nathan begins to smell something, and becomes more panic, some kind of gas all around them, the one he used to burn this house down, he's drenched in it. He tries to break out of the chair but can't as the Stugel begins walking away, tossing the cigar to the ground as it sets ablaze.
*Entertainment, you say? That I can certainly provide. Would you like to interact with any of my characters in particular?*
*I shall take whatever you all give me with open arms.*
*Wonderful! Here ya go!*
The Architect is performing tests on small amounts of the Blight Flower serum that Stroth gave her, seeing how she can use it to make something even more horrifying. The nightmare child is coiled around one of her arms, watching their mother work curiously and making inquisitive chirping sounds.
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)
*Here comes my first Stugel, this one's kinda long, sorry.*
Sitting above the coast is a cliff, strange in how it has grown to be that why, likely a result of the water crashing against the base of it, leading to the area above seeming to loom over the deep waters beneath. A house used to sit on that cliff, it was Old Victorian in appearance, two stories, very nice building, but all that sits there now, is a wreck, someone caused the house to burn to the ground, leaving nothing but ashes and the occasional piece of structure remaining.
Sitting in the middle of this destroyed building are two people, and only one of them is sitting there by choice. A tall... Stugel, and not tall for a Stugel, tall for a human, sitting in one of the chairs, somewhere over 6ft tall, broad shouldered with defined muscles, though he does have some visible chub. He's sitting in front of the other, his fluffy body has an ethereal blue hue, and spots in-between the fur that seem to be simply black, he's got ears with multiple points to them, some kind of hybrid, clearly. Blood drips from the person in front of him, as well as his hands. He's dressed in the attire of a working man, black jeans, a tight white t shirt, and suspenders that match the blue of his fur. He seems to be waiting for the person in front of him to wake up, and eventually, they do.
Nathaniel wakes up, last thing he remembers, he was hired to assassinate some boss of some infamous gang, and he couldn't probably done it too, if it weren't for the fact they turned out to be much stronger than first advertised. His body has been beaten so badly he went unconscious, and when he woke up he could only see out of one eye. He looks around the place, trying to move and finding himself tied up. The Stugel grabs him by the chin and they make eye contact, the Stugel's eyes the same color as his fur, with hints of deep purple. Then, Nathaniel recognizes where they are, he was sent here a few... what is it, ten years back to kill some weird family, a Gith, a Stugel and their kid, and he did it too, burned the place to the ground. Things start to click for him... 'Oh no... oh gods no...' the Stugel stands up from his chair, lighting a cigar and putting the lighter away as Nathan begins to smell something, and becomes more panic, some kind of gas all around them, the one he used to burn this house down, he's drenched in it. He tries to break out of the chair but can't as the Stugel begins walking away, tossing the cigar to the ground as it sets ablaze.
The Stugel doesn't hear his screams for long.
*Here, for anyone who may want it.*
A halfling woman watches, her eyes narrowed as she watches the blaze. She flicks her hand and suddenly a fiery spirit resembling a badger appears. "Take care of the flame lass." She says to it and it nods. It begins to run around the flames, as if absorbing them into its own mass, slowly growing bigger and bigger as the fire dies.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
The Stugel stops to watch as the fire is consumed by the spirit. He says nothing, watching in complete silence, knowing the man within is dead before walking over to the woman, nodding respectfully.
*Entertainment, you say? That I can certainly provide. Would you like to interact with any of my characters in particular?*
*I shall take whatever you all give me with open arms.*
*Wonderful! Here ya go!*
The Architect is performing tests on small amounts of the Blight Flower serum that Stroth gave her, seeing how she can use it to make something even more horrifying. The nightmare child is coiled around one of her arms, watching their mother work curiously and making inquisitive chirping sounds.
Behind her, she feels a presence. Not one of this world, but from beyond it. A figure, dressed in drapes of black that look to be cut from the void itself watches her. They have a head, if you could call it that, or perhaps it's a mask. Either way, it wears that skull of a deer, the bones rotted and browned.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
The Stugel stops to watch as the fire is consumed by the spirit. He says nothing, watching in complete silence, knowing the man within is dead before walking over to the woman, nodding respectfully.
She snorts "Not a love for life are ye you brutish thing? May the dead have claim upon yer soul."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
The Squire has added a bandolier of sewn-on patches to his uniform, each coming from a restaurant where he completed a challenge. Many of them are quite old. He walks with a confused mix of pride and shame, as though he's not sure how he feels.
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.
The Stugel stops to watch as the fire is consumed by the spirit. He says nothing, watching in complete silence, knowing the man within is dead before walking over to the woman, nodding respectfully.
She snorts "Not a love for life are ye you brutish thing? May the dead have claim upon yer soul."
He raises an eyebrow, turning back to the remains of the building, he speaks soft, deliberate words, heavy enough to be understood “Brutish…? I suppose that isn’t wrong, but all I do, I do for those I care about.”
The Squire has added a bandolier of sewn-on patches to his uniform, each coming from a restaurant where he completed a challenge. Many of them are quite old. He walks with a confused mix of pride and shame, as though he's not sure how he feels.
Behind them, they feel a presence, a person who should not be there but is. A lurking figure stands amongst the folks of the tavern, watching them. They wear swatches of fabric that look to be cut from the void itself, wrapped around them like a cloak. They wear, or perhaps it is their head, a deer skull that is rotted away to just the bone and browned from ages past.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
Looking in the mirror of my mind Turning the pages of my life Walking the path so many paced a million times Drown out the voices in the air Leaving the ones that never cared Picking the pieces up and building to the sky
*Entertainment, you say? That I can certainly provide. Would you like to interact with any of my characters in particular?*
*I shall take whatever you all give me with open arms.*
*Wonderful! Here ya go!*
The Architect is performing tests on small amounts of the Blight Flower serum that Stroth gave her, seeing how she can use it to make something even more horrifying. The nightmare child is coiled around one of her arms, watching their mother work curiously and making inquisitive chirping sounds.
Behind her, she feels a presence. Not one of this world, but from beyond it. A figure, dressed in drapes of black that look to be cut from the void itself watches her. They have a head, if you could call it that, or perhaps it's a mask. Either way, it wears that skull of a deer, the bones rotted and browned.
Her mask moves across the cloud of shadowy miasma that is her 'head', stopping to look right at the presence, the rest of her body not turning to face it. "Who are you?" The mad artist asks, not seeming intimidated in the least.
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)
The Stugel stops to watch as the fire is consumed by the spirit. He says nothing, watching in complete silence, knowing the man within is dead before walking over to the woman, nodding respectfully.
She snorts "Not a love for life are ye you brutish thing? May the dead have claim upon yer soul."
He raises an eyebrow, turning back to the remains of the building, he speaks soft, deliberate words, heavy enough to be understood “Brutish…? I suppose that isn’t wrong, but all I do, I do for those I care about.”
"Caring for someone is by taking others lives you ninny!?" She bellows, her now much larger fire spirit stalking over.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
“Thievin’s been best as it ever has, finally got some water back ta the home town an’ now they’re doin’ well fer themselves. How ‘bout ya?”
He nods understandingly “Nice to meet you too, sir. I’m Tim, but I think I told you that already.” He smiles brightly, clinging to his magic book and looking up at them.
He watches curiously, raising an eyebrow, “You… are a good artist Mrya.”
"I been fine, found a sweetheart I ain't likely ta steal from."
"I'm Spark. You've met my creation." he smiles, gesturing to GD
"Thank you! Myra likes to draw fluffy protecter."
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
*Cut for Salem.*
She raises an eyebrow “Really? An’ who might they be? I might know ‘em, an’ they’re crazy if they’re yers.”
He nods, opening his book, “Are you a magician?” He asks politely.
“Fluffy protector?” He mutters back to himself, shaking his head “I guess that’s me.”
*I humbly request entertainment.*
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
*Entertainment, you say? That I can certainly provide. Would you like to interact with any of my characters in particular?*
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)
*I would be happy to provide, I did intro a new character if you want me to get that.*
*May I provide you with some?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*I shall take whatever you all give me with open arms.*
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
*Here, for anyone who may want it.*
*Wonderful! Here ya go!*
The Architect is performing tests on small amounts of the Blight Flower serum that Stroth gave her, seeing how she can use it to make something even more horrifying. The nightmare child is coiled around one of her arms, watching their mother work curiously and making inquisitive chirping sounds.
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)
A halfling woman watches, her eyes narrowed as she watches the blaze. She flicks her hand and suddenly a fiery spirit resembling a badger appears. "Take care of the flame lass." She says to it and it nods. It begins to run around the flames, as if absorbing them into its own mass, slowly growing bigger and bigger as the fire dies.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
*Cut for Wendi.*
The Stugel stops to watch as the fire is consumed by the spirit. He says nothing, watching in complete silence, knowing the man within is dead before walking over to the woman, nodding respectfully.
Behind her, she feels a presence. Not one of this world, but from beyond it. A figure, dressed in drapes of black that look to be cut from the void itself watches her. They have a head, if you could call it that, or perhaps it's a mask. Either way, it wears that skull of a deer, the bones rotted and browned.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
She snorts "Not a love for life are ye you brutish thing? May the dead have claim upon yer soul."
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
The Squire has added a bandolier of sewn-on patches to his uniform, each coming from a restaurant where he completed a challenge. Many of them are quite old. He walks with a confused mix of pride and shame, as though he's not sure how he feels.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He raises an eyebrow, turning back to the remains of the building, he speaks soft, deliberate words, heavy enough to be understood “Brutish…? I suppose that isn’t wrong, but all I do, I do for those I care about.”
Behind them, they feel a presence, a person who should not be there but is. A lurking figure stands amongst the folks of the tavern, watching them. They wear swatches of fabric that look to be cut from the void itself, wrapped around them like a cloak. They wear, or perhaps it is their head, a deer skull that is rotted away to just the bone and browned from ages past.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
(hi wendi)
they/her Always open to chat. Just send me a PM
Looking in the mirror of my mind
Turning the pages of my life
Walking the path so many paced a million times
Drown out the voices in the air
Leaving the ones that never cared
Picking the pieces up and building to the sky
Her mask moves across the cloud of shadowy miasma that is her 'head', stopping to look right at the presence, the rest of her body not turning to face it. "Who are you?" The mad artist asks, not seeming intimidated in the least.
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)
"Caring for someone is by taking others lives you ninny!?" She bellows, her now much larger fire spirit stalking over.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]