Tearthorn is being himself- AKA, staring into the distance whilst muttering something in Draconic over and over again.
*Also, there’s a thing on Smorg.*
Rag, the giant dragon hybrid at 15ft tall and covered in muscles. He, being able to speak Dragonic, listens to him silently, patient.
*Okie dokie*
It is a sequence of numbers- 739174016- followed by the word STOP. He is saying it rapidly, repeating it almost frantically.
He taps his shoulder softly, attempting to get his attention. He holds up a bowl of stew, piping hot, and smelling incredible. He holds up a spoon.
He stops at, by Rag's count, his 19th 7391, and turns. He looks from Rag to the stew a few times, before accepting it, not bothered by the heat. He takes a few spoonfuls.
*I'm not sure is you noticed, by 739174016 is Tearthorn in numbers. Kinda. ish. missed out a T lemme put that in*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Heya everyone! I'm EJO, DDB's resident immortal rat who appears randomly roughly once every week.
I'm not active much, but always up to talk when I am.
I'm known as CptKurn nearly everywhere but here.
From 5:00 to 7:30 pretty much every day I'm playing either Overwatch, Dead by Daylight or Stellaris
Do not ask me about anything I like because I WILL waffle on for half an hour.
I'm British so I'm not active at the same time as most of y'all
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
Tearthorn is being himself- AKA, staring into the distance whilst muttering something in Draconic over and over again.
*Also, there’s a thing on Smorg.*
Rag, the giant dragon hybrid at 15ft tall and covered in muscles. He, being able to speak Dragonic, listens to him silently, patient.
*Okie dokie*
It is a sequence of numbers- 739174016- followed by the word STOP. He is saying it rapidly, repeating it almost frantically.
He taps his shoulder softly, attempting to get his attention. He holds up a bowl of stew, piping hot, and smelling incredible. He holds up a spoon.
He stops at, by Rag's count, his 19th 7391, and turns. He looks from Rag to the stew a few times, before accepting it, not bothered by the heat. He takes a few spoonfuls.
*I'm not sure is you noticed, by 739174016 is Tearthorn in numbers. Kinda. ish. missed out a T lemme put that in*
It is just as amazing as it smells, and Rag smiles softly at them. He takes out a bowl of a much larger size, eating some soup of his own “Ragnerious, but everyone calls me Rag, nice to meet you.”
Tearthorn is being himself- AKA, staring into the distance whilst muttering something in Draconic over and over again.
*Also, there’s a thing on Smorg.*
Rag, the giant dragon hybrid at 15ft tall and covered in muscles. He, being able to speak Dragonic, listens to him silently, patient.
*Okie dokie*
It is a sequence of numbers- 739174016- followed by the word STOP. He is saying it rapidly, repeating it almost frantically.
He taps his shoulder softly, attempting to get his attention. He holds up a bowl of stew, piping hot, and smelling incredible. He holds up a spoon.
He stops at, by Rag's count, his 19th 7391, and turns. He looks from Rag to the stew a few times, before accepting it, not bothered by the heat. He takes a few spoonfuls.
*I'm not sure is you noticed, by 739174016 is Tearthorn in numbers. Kinda. ish. missed out a T lemme put that in*
It is just as amazing as it smells, and Rag smiles softly at them. He takes out a bowl of a much larger size, eating some soup of his own “Ragnerious, but everyone calls me Rag, nice to meet you.”
*Thats cool.*
"Tearthorn." He replies, a bit distantly. "Good to meet you, Ragnerious.
*Note to self and others, Tearthorn is very formal. He isn't going to call anybody by a shortened name. Remind me if I forget*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Heya everyone! I'm EJO, DDB's resident immortal rat who appears randomly roughly once every week.
I'm not active much, but always up to talk when I am.
I'm known as CptKurn nearly everywhere but here.
From 5:00 to 7:30 pretty much every day I'm playing either Overwatch, Dead by Daylight or Stellaris
Do not ask me about anything I like because I WILL waffle on for half an hour.
I'm British so I'm not active at the same time as most of y'all
Tearthorn is being himself- AKA, staring into the distance whilst muttering something in Draconic over and over again.
*Also, there’s a thing on Smorg.*
Rag, the giant dragon hybrid at 15ft tall and covered in muscles. He, being able to speak Dragonic, listens to him silently, patient.
*Okie dokie*
It is a sequence of numbers- 739174016- followed by the word STOP. He is saying it rapidly, repeating it almost frantically.
He taps his shoulder softly, attempting to get his attention. He holds up a bowl of stew, piping hot, and smelling incredible. He holds up a spoon.
He stops at, by Rag's count, his 19th 7391, and turns. He looks from Rag to the stew a few times, before accepting it, not bothered by the heat. He takes a few spoonfuls.
*I'm not sure is you noticed, by 739174016 is Tearthorn in numbers. Kinda. ish. missed out a T lemme put that in*
It is just as amazing as it smells, and Rag smiles softly at them. He takes out a bowl of a much larger size, eating some soup of his own “Ragnerious, but everyone calls me Rag, nice to meet you.”
*Thats cool.*
"Tearthorn." He replies, a bit distantly. "Good to meet you, Ragnerious.
*Note to self and others, Tearthorn is very formal. He isn't going to call anybody by a shortened name. Remind me if I forget*
*Dont worry bout it dude, I got you.*
“Why were you spelling your own name in numbers?” He says, finishing the soup before putting it down.
*It's strange, I never pictured you as an especially logical person. I guess you would have to be a clever problem-solver given your situation, though, so it makes sense.*
*It's strange, I never pictured you as an especially logical person. I guess you would have to be a clever problem-solver given your situation, though, so it makes sense.*
*It's strange, I never pictured you as an especially logical person. I guess you would have to be a clever problem-solver given your situation, though, so it makes sense.*
*I like to be prepared, plan stuff out, etc.*
*I guess while it's relevant, my zodiac sign is Aquarius, but I don't really believe in astrology.*
Tearthorn is being himself- AKA, staring into the distance whilst muttering something in Draconic over and over again.
*Also, there’s a thing on Smorg.*
Rag, the giant dragon hybrid at 15ft tall and covered in muscles. He, being able to speak Dragonic, listens to him silently, patient.
*Okie dokie*
It is a sequence of numbers- 739174016- followed by the word STOP. He is saying it rapidly, repeating it almost frantically.
He taps his shoulder softly, attempting to get his attention. He holds up a bowl of stew, piping hot, and smelling incredible. He holds up a spoon.
He stops at, by Rag's count, his 19th 7391, and turns. He looks from Rag to the stew a few times, before accepting it, not bothered by the heat. He takes a few spoonfuls.
*I'm not sure is you noticed, by 739174016 is Tearthorn in numbers. Kinda. ish. missed out a T lemme put that in*
It is just as amazing as it smells, and Rag smiles softly at them. He takes out a bowl of a much larger size, eating some soup of his own “Ragnerious, but everyone calls me Rag, nice to meet you.”
*Thats cool.*
"Tearthorn." He replies, a bit distantly. "Good to meet you, Ragnerious.
*Note to self and others, Tearthorn is very formal. He isn't going to call anybody by a shortened name. Remind me if I forget*
*Dont worry bout it dude, I got you.*
“Why were you spelling your own name in numbers?” He says, finishing the soup before putting it down.
"I... was?" Tearthorn pauses for a few seconds. "Oh, so I was." He sighs, taking another spoonful of his stew. "I enter deep thought involuntarily sometimes, and I just mutter whatever was on my mind before going in to deep thought, but twisted in some way. It's what comes from living for... longer than the average dragonborn, lets say."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Heya everyone! I'm EJO, DDB's resident immortal rat who appears randomly roughly once every week.
I'm not active much, but always up to talk when I am.
I'm known as CptKurn nearly everywhere but here.
From 5:00 to 7:30 pretty much every day I'm playing either Overwatch, Dead by Daylight or Stellaris
Do not ask me about anything I like because I WILL waffle on for half an hour.
I'm British so I'm not active at the same time as most of y'all
Tearthorn is being himself- AKA, staring into the distance whilst muttering something in Draconic over and over again.
*Also, there’s a thing on Smorg.*
Rag, the giant dragon hybrid at 15ft tall and covered in muscles. He, being able to speak Dragonic, listens to him silently, patient.
*Okie dokie*
It is a sequence of numbers- 739174016- followed by the word STOP. He is saying it rapidly, repeating it almost frantically.
He taps his shoulder softly, attempting to get his attention. He holds up a bowl of stew, piping hot, and smelling incredible. He holds up a spoon.
He stops at, by Rag's count, his 19th 7391, and turns. He looks from Rag to the stew a few times, before accepting it, not bothered by the heat. He takes a few spoonfuls.
*I'm not sure is you noticed, by 739174016 is Tearthorn in numbers. Kinda. ish. missed out a T lemme put that in*
It is just as amazing as it smells, and Rag smiles softly at them. He takes out a bowl of a much larger size, eating some soup of his own “Ragnerious, but everyone calls me Rag, nice to meet you.”
*Thats cool.*
"Tearthorn." He replies, a bit distantly. "Good to meet you, Ragnerious.
*Note to self and others, Tearthorn is very formal. He isn't going to call anybody by a shortened name. Remind me if I forget*
*Dont worry bout it dude, I got you.*
“Why were you spelling your own name in numbers?” He says, finishing the soup before putting it down.
"I... was?" Tearthorn pauses for a few seconds. "Oh, so I was." He sighs, taking another spoonful of his stew. "I enter deep thought involuntarily sometimes, and I just mutter whatever was on my mind before going in to deep thought, but twisted in some way. It's what comes from living for... longer than the average dragonborn, lets say."
“That sounds awful, do you enjoy your stew?” He says, patting their back softly “I am not exactly a masterful expert of helping people with things like that, I’m only 48 after all.”
*Maybe in a bit, I have not supped on human flesh in decades.*
*Take your time, not going to question it.*
*K, I'm ready. I think.*
*Side note, is there anything you can think of that would make Barbeau more fun for you to RP with?*
*I find him very interesting, but if there could be anything, I would have to think about it.*
Sparrow is standing outside of the library, his hands in his hips, daunted by the task of learning how to read. His eyes glowing softly.
Merabelle is eating the criminal in an alley after they tried to kill her. She tears off flesh like an animal, wearing an all black version of her dress as she does so.
*I find him very interesting, but if there could be anything, I would have to think about it.*
Sparrow is standing outside of the library, his hands in his hips, daunted by the task of learning how to read. His eyes glowing softly.
Merabelle is eating the criminal in an alley after they tried to kill her. She tears off flesh like an animal, wearing an all black version of her dress as she does so.
Felix waddles over and casually takes his hand like a fat, fluffy toddler. "Hey, bud."
She feels a sudden chill as Barbeau enters the alley. He's about her height, and thin as a rail, not even wearing heavy clothes to pad out his silhouette. His lips part to reveal shark-like teeth. His breath fogs out like exhaust. "Slaughter method?" He demands.
*I find him very interesting, but if there could be anything, I would have to think about it.*
Sparrow is standing outside of the library, his hands in his hips, daunted by the task of learning how to read. His eyes glowing softly.
Merabelle is eating the criminal in an alley after they tried to kill her. She tears off flesh like an animal, wearing an all black version of her dress as she does so.
Felix waddles over and casually takes his hand like a fat, fluffy toddler. "Hey, bud."
She feels a sudden chill as Barbeau enters the alley. He's about her height, and thin as a rail, not even wearing heavy clothes to pad out his silhouette. His lips part to reveal shark-like teeth. His breath fogs out like exhaust. "Slaughter method?" He demands.
He takes a moment to look down to them before turning back to the library, smiling with his friend now there “Hey pardner, what ya doin’?”
She stands up, taking a handkerchief from her pocket and tapping it against her mouth, cleaning off the blood and some of the remaining flesh “Ripped out her throat with my teeth.” She begins cleaning off her fingers as well.
*The Lion and the Bull.*
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
*Sounds a lot cooler that way.*
He stops at, by Rag's count, his 19th 7391, and turns. He looks from Rag to the stew a few times, before accepting it, not bothered by the heat. He takes a few spoonfuls.
*I'm not sure is you noticed, by 739174016 is Tearthorn in numbers. Kinda. ish. missed out a T lemme put that in*
Heya everyone! I'm EJO, DDB's resident immortal rat who appears randomly roughly once every week.
I'm not active much, but always up to talk when I am.
I'm known as CptKurn nearly everywhere but here.
From 5:00 to 7:30 pretty much every day I'm playing either Overwatch, Dead by Daylight or Stellaris
Do not ask me about anything I like because I WILL waffle on for half an hour.
I'm British so I'm not active at the same time as most of y'all
(you want to rp wendo)
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
It is just as amazing as it smells, and Rag smiles softly at them. He takes out a bowl of a much larger size, eating some soup of his own “Ragnerious, but everyone calls me Rag, nice to meet you.”
*Thats cool.*
"Tearthorn." He replies, a bit distantly. "Good to meet you, Ragnerious.
*Note to self and others, Tearthorn is very formal. He isn't going to call anybody by a shortened name. Remind me if I forget*
Heya everyone! I'm EJO, DDB's resident immortal rat who appears randomly roughly once every week.
I'm not active much, but always up to talk when I am.
I'm known as CptKurn nearly everywhere but here.
From 5:00 to 7:30 pretty much every day I'm playing either Overwatch, Dead by Daylight or Stellaris
Do not ask me about anything I like because I WILL waffle on for half an hour.
I'm British so I'm not active at the same time as most of y'all
*Dont worry bout it dude, I got you.*
“Why were you spelling your own name in numbers?” He says, finishing the soup before putting it down.
*Cool. I'm an ENFP (Campaigner) last I checked.*
*It's strange, I never pictured you as an especially logical person. I guess you would have to be a clever problem-solver given your situation, though, so it makes sense.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*I like to be prepared, plan stuff out, etc.*
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
*Anyway, anybody else want to role play?*
*I guess while it's relevant, my zodiac sign is Aquarius, but I don't really believe in astrology.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"I... was?" Tearthorn pauses for a few seconds. "Oh, so I was." He sighs, taking another spoonful of his stew. "I enter deep thought involuntarily sometimes, and I just mutter whatever was on my mind before going in to deep thought, but twisted in some way. It's what comes from living for... longer than the average dragonborn, lets say."
Heya everyone! I'm EJO, DDB's resident immortal rat who appears randomly roughly once every week.
I'm not active much, but always up to talk when I am.
I'm known as CptKurn nearly everywhere but here.
From 5:00 to 7:30 pretty much every day I'm playing either Overwatch, Dead by Daylight or Stellaris
Do not ask me about anything I like because I WILL waffle on for half an hour.
I'm British so I'm not active at the same time as most of y'all
*Maybe in a bit, I have not supped on human flesh in decades.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
“That sounds awful, do you enjoy your stew?” He says, patting their back softly “I am not exactly a masterful expert of helping people with things like that, I’m only 48 after all.”
*Take your time, not going to question it.*
*K, I'm ready. I think.*
*Side note, is there anything you can think of that would make Barbeau more fun for you to RP with?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*I find him very interesting, but if there could be anything, I would have to think about it.*
Sparrow is standing outside of the library, his hands in his hips, daunted by the task of learning how to read. His eyes glowing softly.
Merabelle is eating the criminal in an alley after they tried to kill her. She tears off flesh like an animal, wearing an all black version of her dress as she does so.
Felix waddles over and casually takes his hand like a fat, fluffy toddler. "Hey, bud."
She feels a sudden chill as Barbeau enters the alley. He's about her height, and thin as a rail, not even wearing heavy clothes to pad out his silhouette. His lips part to reveal shark-like teeth. His breath fogs out like exhaust. "Slaughter method?" He demands.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
He takes a moment to look down to them before turning back to the library, smiling with his friend now there “Hey pardner, what ya doin’?”
She stands up, taking a handkerchief from her pocket and tapping it against her mouth, cleaning off the blood and some of the remaining flesh “Ripped out her throat with my teeth.” She begins cleaning off her fingers as well.
*it's so cold-*
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