Scott sits in the tavern, feverishly writing down what appears to be, at this point, eighteen pages of a story. A butterfly sits on the back his hand, it's wings pale pink. He looks like hasn't slept in days and, by the content of the table, his only drink has been cup after cup of coffee. He is dressed in light brown sweater and his long black hair is tied back into a bun.
Stroth is commiting more heinous acts that would get her labeled as a war criminal. She is currently peeling the skin off an angel to use for said experiment. She could've waited till it was dead but... where was the fun in when it was dead?
Donn is with on his children, picking out a new bag for her for a school she would be attending. She keeps disagreeing with him on the color despite all the colors being wrong apparently .
The "child" suddenly speaks in a different voice, that of a bass singer overwhelmed by grief. "You'd believe anything I tell you?" The presence grows, and finally Rag can see what he's talking to. It's almost as big as he is, and armored by the darkness. It's a monster of the purest manifestation. A nightmare's nightmare. So archetypically scary that it would be almost laughable. "You'd believe anything I show you? Knowing what I am?" It takes another step back. "I am not a being to be trusted. Even the heroes hate me. Are you a hero, Rag? Could you possibly care for a demon, one that reads thoughts and steals them to feed its vile horde? I can hope, but I doubt I could ever believe."
Rag takes a deep breath and stands up, cracking his neck as he begins to grow farther, his voice growing more guttural as his frame begins to crack the walls, his heat growing hot enough to melt them back together "I am no hero, I am no monster, I am something far worse than demons and devils alike." He then takes a deep breath, shrinking back down to his regular, although still colossal height "I am Ragnerious, grandson of Ragnaris, and I am willing to care for all, no matter their position."
The entity fidgets with its claws for about ten seconds, so silent it's like it isn't even there. It holds one of its hands out to Rag, the air chilling back to room temperature as it does. "I have something to show you. If you'll let me show you my work, that is." Rag can hear what sounds like a busy teahouse, the shouts of rebels and fiends and people who can't belong anywhere else. He can even faintly see the space, opulent and rowdy in equal measure, from the claw before him.
Scott sits in the tavern, feverishly writing down what appears to be, at this point, eighteen pages of a story. A butterfly sits on the back his hand, it's wings pale pink. He looks like hasn't slept in days and, by the content of the table, his only drink has been cup after cup of coffee. He is dressed in light brown sweater and his long black hair is tied back into a bun.
Stroth is commiting more heinous acts that would get her labeled as a war criminal. She is currently peeling the skin off an angel to use for said experiment. She could've waited till it was dead but... where was the fun in when it was dead?
Donn is with on his children, picking out a new bag for her for a school she would be attending. She keeps disagreeing with him on the color despite all the colors being wrong apparently .
Tycho peeks over his shoulder, "You've been awake for 63 hours straight."
The "child" suddenly speaks in a different voice, that of a bass singer overwhelmed by grief. "You'd believe anything I tell you?" The presence grows, and finally Rag can see what he's talking to. It's almost as big as he is, and armored by the darkness. It's a monster of the purest manifestation. A nightmare's nightmare. So archetypically scary that it would be almost laughable. "You'd believe anything I show you? Knowing what I am?" It takes another step back. "I am not a being to be trusted. Even the heroes hate me. Are you a hero, Rag? Could you possibly care for a demon, one that reads thoughts and steals them to feed its vile horde? I can hope, but I doubt I could ever believe."
Rag takes a deep breath and stands up, cracking his neck as he begins to grow farther, his voice growing more guttural as his frame begins to crack the walls, his heat growing hot enough to melt them back together "I am no hero, I am no monster, I am something far worse than demons and devils alike." He then takes a deep breath, shrinking back down to his regular, although still colossal height "I am Ragnerious, grandson of Ragnaris, and I am willing to care for all, no matter their position."
The entity fidgets with its claws for about ten seconds, so silent it's like it isn't even there. It holds one of its hands out to Rag, the air chilling back to room temperature as it does. "I have something to show you. If you'll let me show you my work, that is." Rag can hear what sounds like a busy teahouse, the shouts of rebels and fiends and people who can't belong anywhere else. He can even faintly see the space, opulent and rowdy in equal measure, from the claw before him.
He takes their hand and follows them "I hope this isn't something that will result in revealing how dangerous I really am." He keeps his scales just hot enough to remain comfortable, the heat leading to him glowing slightly.
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.'
“Until I can get a different job, I’m probably gonna stay here.” Mauric says passively. “But if you spent all your money on the ring, how will you afford land deeds?”
The bullet misses just barely. Loriche runs after him and attempts to grapple him. “Nice try.” Strength: 13
"If I'm going to be honest, I am willing to go into debt for a happy family." He says with another chuckle "But that doesn't sound like a good idea now that I say it out loud."
He tries to push her off of him "What''s your problem lady?!" Strength Contest:20
“No, that’s an admirable mindset. But if you go too far below the line, you’re bound for failure regardless if you’re the happiest man in the world.”
Loriche is unable to keep her grip on him. “How did you know I was a woman? This armor has no gendered features!”
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.
Scott sits in the tavern, feverishly writing down what appears to be, at this point, eighteen pages of a story. A butterfly sits on the back his hand, it's wings pale pink. He looks like hasn't slept in days and, by the content of the table, his only drink has been cup after cup of coffee. He is dressed in light brown sweater and his long black hair is tied back into a bun.
Stroth is commiting more heinous acts that would get her labeled as a war criminal. She is currently peeling the skin off an angel to use for said experiment. She could've waited till it was dead but... where was the fun in when it was dead?
Donn is with on his children, picking out a new bag for her for a school she would be attending. She keeps disagreeing with him on the color despite all the colors being wrong apparently .
From a pretty decent distance away, Riotan catches the whiff of the torment of a celestial. It’s an odor so sweet he could never mistake it for another. Riotan quickly makes his way to their location.
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.
Scott sits in the tavern, feverishly writing down what appears to be, at this point, eighteen pages of a story. A butterfly sits on the back his hand, it's wings pale pink. He looks like hasn't slept in days and, by the content of the table, his only drink has been cup after cup of coffee. He is dressed in light brown sweater and his long black hair is tied back into a bun.
Stroth is commiting more heinous acts that would get her labeled as a war criminal. She is currently peeling the skin off an angel to use for said experiment. She could've waited till it was dead but... where was the fun in when it was dead?
Donn is with on his children, picking out a new bag for her for a school she would be attending. She keeps disagreeing with him on the color despite all the colors being wrong apparently .
Tycho peeks over his shoulder, "You've been awake for 63 hours straight."
"Yes and no. It was over 36 but less than 50." He said, looking over.
Scott sits in the tavern, feverishly writing down what appears to be, at this point, eighteen pages of a story. A butterfly sits on the back his hand, it's wings pale pink. He looks like hasn't slept in days and, by the content of the table, his only drink has been cup after cup of coffee. He is dressed in light brown sweater and his long black hair is tied back into a bun.
Stroth is commiting more heinous acts that would get her labeled as a war criminal. She is currently peeling the skin off an angel to use for said experiment. She could've waited till it was dead but... where was the fun in when it was dead?
Donn is with on his children, picking out a new bag for her for a school she would be attending. She keeps disagreeing with him on the color despite all the colors being wrong apparently .
From a pretty decent distance away, Riotan catches the whiff of the torment of a celestial. It’s an odor so sweet he could never mistake it for another. Riotan quickly makes his way to their location.
Stroth waves "Hi there!" She chirps.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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
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"Not until later when you've had time to digest."
Shade grabs Marcy's leg "mooorrrr..."
Pronouns: She/Her
Gender: Nonbinary Female, 1/3 human, 1/3 feline, 1/3 dragon
Mentally and emotionally unstable, anorexic (currently in remission!), autism, ADHD, anger issues
She just pats shade on the head, "No,"
Scott sits in the tavern, feverishly writing down what appears to be, at this point, eighteen pages of a story. A butterfly sits on the back his hand, it's wings pale pink. He looks like hasn't slept in days and, by the content of the table, his only drink has been cup after cup of coffee. He is dressed in light brown sweater and his long black hair is tied back into a bun.
Stroth is commiting more heinous acts that would get her labeled as a war criminal. She is currently peeling the skin off an angel to use for said experiment. She could've waited till it was dead but... where was the fun in when it was dead?
Donn is with on his children, picking out a new bag for her for a school she would be attending. She keeps disagreeing with him on the color despite all the colors being wrong apparently .
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
The entity fidgets with its claws for about ten seconds, so silent it's like it isn't even there. It holds one of its hands out to Rag, the air chilling back to room temperature as it does. "I have something to show you. If you'll let me show you my work, that is." Rag can hear what sounds like a busy teahouse, the shouts of rebels and fiends and people who can't belong anywhere else. He can even faintly see the space, opulent and rowdy in equal measure, from the claw before him.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
Shade flattens her ears. "mor or i claw."
Pronouns: She/Her
Gender: Nonbinary Female, 1/3 human, 1/3 feline, 1/3 dragon
Mentally and emotionally unstable, anorexic (currently in remission!), autism, ADHD, anger issues
Tycho peeks over his shoulder, "You've been awake for 63 hours straight."
He takes their hand and follows them "I hope this isn't something that will result in revealing how dangerous I really am." He keeps his scales just hot enough to remain comfortable, the heat leading to him glowing slightly.
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.)
"Thats not nice"
*this is why she was thrown out of the bar*
"mor?" Shade hiccups
Pronouns: She/Her
Gender: Nonbinary Female, 1/3 human, 1/3 feline, 1/3 dragon
Mentally and emotionally unstable, anorexic (currently in remission!), autism, ADHD, anger issues
Marcy sighs and grabs more alcohol
Shade purrs happily and then coughs. "no fair ganging up..."
Pronouns: She/Her
Gender: Nonbinary Female, 1/3 human, 1/3 feline, 1/3 dragon
Mentally and emotionally unstable, anorexic (currently in remission!), autism, ADHD, anger issues
"What do you mean?"
"deres three..." Shade stumbles backwards
Pronouns: She/Her
Gender: Nonbinary Female, 1/3 human, 1/3 feline, 1/3 dragon
Mentally and emotionally unstable, anorexic (currently in remission!), autism, ADHD, anger issues
“No, that’s an admirable mindset. But if you go too far below the line, you’re bound for failure regardless if you’re the happiest man in the world.”
Loriche is unable to keep her grip on him. “How did you know I was a woman? This armor has no gendered features!”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
From a pretty decent distance away, Riotan catches the whiff of the torment of a celestial. It’s an odor so sweet he could never mistake it for another. Riotan quickly makes his way to their location.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Marcy catches her, "Alright, no more drink for now"
"Yes and no. It was over 36 but less than 50." He said, looking over.
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
"world movin..." Shade coughs her face green
Pronouns: She/Her
Gender: Nonbinary Female, 1/3 human, 1/3 feline, 1/3 dragon
Mentally and emotionally unstable, anorexic (currently in remission!), autism, ADHD, anger issues
Stroth waves "Hi there!" She chirps.
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