Samaritan is practicing with his knives, practicing against mirror images of himself. The Ex-Navy is on equal footing with them, changing up his attacks each time. He refuses to remove his balaclava from his face despite the exercise.
William is dicing up tomatoes, preparing a pot of fresh tomato sauce.
Samaritan is practicing with his knives, practicing against mirror images of himself. The Ex-Navy is on equal footing with them, changing up his attacks each time. He refuses to remove his balaclava from his face despite the exercise.
William is dicing up tomatoes, preparing a pot of fresh tomato sauce.
Phoenix watches from a distance, silently critiquing everything.
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.
Samaritan is practicing with his knives, practicing against mirror images of himself. The Ex-Navy is on equal footing with them, changing up his attacks each time. He refuses to remove his balaclava from his face despite the exercise.
William is dicing up tomatoes, preparing a pot of fresh tomato sauce.
Phoenix watches from a distance, silently critiquing everything.
Samaritan lands a blade right into one of the image's chest, it disappearing into the mist. He spins the blade, chuckling to himself.
Samaritan is practicing with his knives, practicing against mirror images of himself. The Ex-Navy is on equal footing with them, changing up his attacks each time. He refuses to remove his balaclava from his face despite the exercise.
William is dicing up tomatoes, preparing a pot of fresh tomato sauce.
Phoenix watches from a distance, silently critiquing everything.
Samaritan lands a blade right into one of the image's chest, it disappearing into the mist. He spins the blade, chuckling to himself.
Phoenix slow claps. "Not bad."
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.
(Cut for Therem) *The note reads as follows:* "Dear Stranger, I hope this note finds you well. It's good to see a fellow animal caretaker. The way you care for those rabbits is quite beautiful to watch. May this help you." And inside the box is some food, water, and a particular orb...hm.*
He gently pokes the orb.
*The orb glows slightly, but nothing much else happens. It's rather odd, but the one change is that you can hear some mumbling...very LOUD mumbling at that.*
He pokes it again
*Nothing happens. The mumbles get louder, then you feel something on your leg.*
The Knight looks down
*The rabbits are...having a conversation?*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The one who wants to hug quite literally everyone, for no reason whatsoever. Get him to an Asylum.
Just some guy who likes memes and DND!
Some may know me as a particularly goofy vermin if you play a Sonic game where you commit blasts of robo...2...
Samaritan is practicing with his knives, practicing against mirror images of himself. The Ex-Navy is on equal footing with them, changing up his attacks each time. He refuses to remove his balaclava from his face despite the exercise.
William is dicing up tomatoes, preparing a pot of fresh tomato sauce.
Phoenix watches from a distance, silently critiquing everything.
Samaritan lands a blade right into one of the image's chest, it disappearing into the mist. He spins the blade, chuckling to himself.
Phoenix slow claps. "Not bad."
Samaritan turns around, eyes narrowed. "What do you want?" He asked, his accent distinct.
(Cut for Therem) *The note reads as follows:* "Dear Stranger, I hope this note finds you well. It's good to see a fellow animal caretaker. The way you care for those rabbits is quite beautiful to watch. May this help you." And inside the box is some food, water, and a particular orb...hm.*
He gently pokes the orb.
*The orb glows slightly, but nothing much else happens. It's rather odd, but the one change is that you can hear some mumbling...very LOUD mumbling at that.*
He pokes it again
*Nothing happens. The mumbles get louder, then you feel something on your leg.*
The Knight looks down
*The rabbits are...having a conversation?*
He frowns under his helmet. "Not my rabbits.."
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.
Samaritan is practicing with his knives, practicing against mirror images of himself. The Ex-Navy is on equal footing with them, changing up his attacks each time. He refuses to remove his balaclava from his face despite the exercise.
William is dicing up tomatoes, preparing a pot of fresh tomato sauce.
Phoenix watches from a distance, silently critiquing everything.
Samaritan lands a blade right into one of the image's chest, it disappearing into the mist. He spins the blade, chuckling to himself.
Phoenix slow claps. "Not bad."
Samaritan turns around, eyes narrowed. "What do you want?" He asked, his accent distinct.
"Me? Nothing. Lemme guess. Ex-navy seals?" he says, walking over.
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.
*Hello, sorry for being gone for so long. IRL stuff happened that was serious.*
Theren is asleep in his garden.
The Beastknight is sitting with his rabbits.
-open slot for you to choose whoever-
*Glad to see you man. If you need to talk or anything, you know I’m here.*
Klei invisibly sneaks over to Theren, seeing if he has any exposed valuables.
Thirteen is writing an angry letter to the Archmage Union of Sigil.
*Thanks*
Once he's about 5 feet away, an eye on Therens forehead appears and glares at him.
The knight watches from far away
Klei freezes like a deer in headlights, staring back at the eye.
Thirteen finishes the letter with a serif so aggressive it slightly tears the paper. He then begins trudging into town to send it.
It glows a slight purple as Theren sits up, yawning as the eye vanishes. "For a thief, you kinda suck at your job."
The Knight continues to watch him, sending a falcon to follow him
“You’re a random guy sleeping outside, you kind of asked for it.” He responds, fading into visibility.
Thirteen heads to the back of an abandoned building, shifts a brick on the wall to reveal a small slot-like portal, and jams the letter into it. After replacing the brick, he storms away.
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.
*Hello, sorry for being gone for so long. IRL stuff happened that was serious.*
Theren is asleep in his garden.
The Beastknight is sitting with his rabbits.
-open slot for you to choose whoever-
*Glad to see you man. If you need to talk or anything, you know I’m here.*
Klei invisibly sneaks over to Theren, seeing if he has any exposed valuables.
Thirteen is writing an angry letter to the Archmage Union of Sigil.
*Thanks*
Once he's about 5 feet away, an eye on Therens forehead appears and glares at him.
The knight watches from far away
Klei freezes like a deer in headlights, staring back at the eye.
Thirteen finishes the letter with a serif so aggressive it slightly tears the paper. He then begins trudging into town to send it.
It glows a slight purple as Theren sits up, yawning as the eye vanishes. "For a thief, you kinda suck at your job."
The Knight continues to watch him, sending a falcon to follow him
“You’re a random guy sleeping outside, you kind of asked for it.” He responds, fading into visibility.
Thirteen heads to the back of an abandoned building, shifts a brick on the wall to reveal a small slot-like portal, and jams the letter into it. After replacing the brick, he storms away.
"1: I'm sleeping in my garden. 2: I'm not some random guy kid."
The falcon follows him still.
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.
"Machines can think for themselves. Take Fesuts, Leos dragon, for example."
"yes, but this one is not designed to have the same level of intelligence as some of my other projects"
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
Samaritan is practicing with his knives, practicing against mirror images of himself. The Ex-Navy is on equal footing with them, changing up his attacks each time. He refuses to remove his balaclava from his face despite the exercise.
William is dicing up tomatoes, preparing a pot of fresh tomato sauce.
Phoenix watches from a distance, silently critiquing everything.
Samaritan lands a blade right into one of the image's chest, it disappearing into the mist. He spins the blade, chuckling to himself.
Phoenix slow claps. "Not bad."
Samaritan turns around, eyes narrowed. "What do you want?" He asked, his accent distinct.
"Me? Nothing. Lemme guess. Ex-navy seals?" he says, walking over.
"Seal's?" He blinks slowly, producing his knife from its sheath "Don't know what that is."
Samaritan is practicing with his knives, practicing against mirror images of himself. The Ex-Navy is on equal footing with them, changing up his attacks each time. He refuses to remove his balaclava from his face despite the exercise.
William is dicing up tomatoes, preparing a pot of fresh tomato sauce.
Phoenix watches from a distance, silently critiquing everything.
Samaritan lands a blade right into one of the image's chest, it disappearing into the mist. He spins the blade, chuckling to himself.
Phoenix slow claps. "Not bad."
Samaritan turns around, eyes narrowed. "What do you want?" He asked, his accent distinct.
"Me? Nothing. Lemme guess. Ex-navy seals?" he says, walking over.
"Seal's?" He blinks slowly, producing his knife from its sheath "Don't know what that is."
"Or just Ex-Navy?" he says, arms crossed, seemingly not frightened by the knife.
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.
"Machines can think for themselves. Take Fesuts, Leos dragon, for example."
"yes, but this one is not designed to have the same level of intelligence as some of my other projects"
"Like I said, could be adapting. But I'm no mechanic."
"even if it is evolving, I don't know how it can open a door"
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
Samaritan is practicing with his knives, practicing against mirror images of himself. The Ex-Navy is on equal footing with them, changing up his attacks each time. He refuses to remove his balaclava from his face despite the exercise.
William is dicing up tomatoes, preparing a pot of fresh tomato sauce.
Phoenix watches from a distance, silently critiquing everything.
Samaritan lands a blade right into one of the image's chest, it disappearing into the mist. He spins the blade, chuckling to himself.
Phoenix slow claps. "Not bad."
Samaritan turns around, eyes narrowed. "What do you want?" He asked, his accent distinct.
"Me? Nothing. Lemme guess. Ex-navy seals?" he says, walking over.
"Seal's?" He blinks slowly, producing his knife from its sheath "Don't know what that is."
"Or just Ex-Navy?" he says, arms crossed, seemingly not frightened by the knife.
"You got twenty seconds to get outta here." he said, eyes narrowing again.
"Machines can think for themselves. Take Fesuts, Leos dragon, for example."
"yes, but this one is not designed to have the same level of intelligence as some of my other projects"
"Like I said, could be adapting. But I'm no mechanic."
"even if it is evolving, I don't know how it can open a door"
"Machines are weird."
"I built this one and there is no way for it to open a door"
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
Samaritan is practicing with his knives, practicing against mirror images of himself. The Ex-Navy is on equal footing with them, changing up his attacks each time. He refuses to remove his balaclava from his face despite the exercise.
William is dicing up tomatoes, preparing a pot of fresh tomato sauce.
Phoenix watches from a distance, silently critiquing everything.
Samaritan lands a blade right into one of the image's chest, it disappearing into the mist. He spins the blade, chuckling to himself.
Phoenix slow claps. "Not bad."
Samaritan turns around, eyes narrowed. "What do you want?" He asked, his accent distinct.
"Me? Nothing. Lemme guess. Ex-navy seals?" he says, walking over.
"Seal's?" He blinks slowly, producing his knife from its sheath "Don't know what that is."
"Or just Ex-Navy?" he says, arms crossed, seemingly not frightened by the knife.
"You got twenty seconds to get outta here." he said, eyes narrowing again.
"look. You don't frighten me." he says calmly. "Im just tryna have a conversation here. No need for violence."
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.
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Samaritan is practicing with his knives, practicing against mirror images of himself. The Ex-Navy is on equal footing with them, changing up his attacks each time. He refuses to remove his balaclava from his face despite the exercise.
William is dicing up tomatoes, preparing a pot of fresh tomato sauce.
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
*I own his soul.*
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
Phoenix watches from a distance, silently critiquing everything.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Samaritan lands a blade right into one of the image's chest, it disappearing into the mist. He spins the blade, chuckling to himself.
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
Phoenix slow claps. "Not bad."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
*The rabbits are...having a conversation?*
The one who wants to hug quite literally everyone, for no reason whatsoever. Get him to an Asylum.
Just some guy who likes memes and DND!
Some may know me as a particularly goofy vermin if you play a Sonic game where you commit blasts of robo...2...
(online Monday-Friday from 8:00 to 3:00) (Most of the time.)
First ACTUAL RP character as a SHEET!!! He's a foxfolk.
Hewwo! ^w^ You wanna see a surprise? :3
Samaritan turns around, eyes narrowed. "What do you want?" He asked, his accent distinct.
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
He frowns under his helmet. "Not my rabbits.."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"Me? Nothing. Lemme guess. Ex-navy seals?" he says, walking over.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
“You’re a random guy sleeping outside, you kind of asked for it.” He responds, fading into visibility.
Thirteen heads to the back of an abandoned building, shifts a brick on the wall to reveal a small slot-like portal, and jams the letter into it. After replacing the brick, he storms away.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"1: I'm sleeping in my garden. 2: I'm not some random guy kid."
The falcon follows him still.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"yes, but this one is not designed to have the same level of intelligence as some of my other projects"
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
"Seal's?" He blinks slowly, producing his knife from its sheath "Don't know what that is."
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
"Like I said, could be adapting. But I'm no mechanic."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"Or just Ex-Navy?" he says, arms crossed, seemingly not frightened by the knife.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"even if it is evolving, I don't know how it can open a door"
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
"Machines are weird."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"You got twenty seconds to get outta here." he said, eyes narrowing again.
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
"I built this one and there is no way for it to open a door"
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
"look. You don't frighten me." he says calmly. "Im just tryna have a conversation here. No need for violence."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.