Inspector Thorne is in the library of the tavern, looking over an old map of the area. He sips a glass of whiskey, making notes in a small black leather bound notebook of places on the maps.
Samaritan is pacing back and forth, looking a bit agitated. He has somehow smoked three cigars in the last hour, each one smoked right down to the filter.
Azeral is sharpening his sword, sitting on a pile of bodies be has managed to kill in the past day. He is thinking of making himself of throne of bones.
Thirteen is meditating in his chair, trying to commune with something.
Rio is keeping watch over him, worried.
*desc?* Loriche is out hunting and spots him. She stays back, a bit concerned by the carnage.
Thorne glances up to retrieve the whiskey bottle perched on his desk and looks over at Thirteen.
Samaritan turns around, flames nearly bursting to life on his form before blurring out the words "Marry me." to Rio.
*6'7 black armor wearing Angel of Death wearing a mask depicting skeletal features.*
Azeral looks up and tilts his head, nodding at them.
Patterns of interlocking ethereal blue triangles are glowing along his skin.
"Okay." He responds without missing a beat.
Loriche nods back. "You're not a god or anything, right?"
Thorne watches a moment more, intrigued but not one to bother someone when they are occupied.
Samaritan exhales harshly like he just ran across the world's surface, hands on his knees. "Christ.. why was that hard for me.."
"If I was, more than just these few would be dead." He chuckles.
After a bit, Thirteen opens his eyes and sits back up. "So impatient. Doesn't he know it's rude to call me when I'm writing?"
"Because you were nervous? I dunno, never felt it." He laughs a bit. "But I'm very glad you mustered up the effort to do it."
"Oh. Are you Nerephos then?"
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.
Inspector Thorne is in the library of the tavern, looking over an old map of the area. He sips a glass of whiskey, making notes in a small black leather bound notebook of places on the maps.
Samaritan is pacing back and forth, looking a bit agitated. He has somehow smoked three cigars in the last hour, each one smoked right down to the filter.
Azeral is sharpening his sword, sitting on a pile of bodies be has managed to kill in the past day. He is thinking of making himself of throne of bones.
Thirteen is meditating in his chair, trying to commune with something.
Rio is keeping watch over him, worried.
*desc?* Loriche is out hunting and spots him. She stays back, a bit concerned by the carnage.
Thorne glances up to retrieve the whiskey bottle perched on his desk and looks over at Thirteen.
Samaritan turns around, flames nearly bursting to life on his form before blurring out the words "Marry me." to Rio.
*6'7 black armor wearing Angel of Death wearing a mask depicting skeletal features.*
Azeral looks up and tilts his head, nodding at them.
Patterns of interlocking ethereal blue triangles are glowing along his skin.
"Okay." He responds without missing a beat.
Loriche nods back. "You're not a god or anything, right?"
Thorne watches a moment more, intrigued but not one to bother someone when they are occupied.
Samaritan exhales harshly like he just ran across the world's surface, hands on his knees. "Christ.. why was that hard for me.."
"If I was, more than just these few would be dead." He chuckles.
After a bit, Thirteen opens his eyes and sits back up. "So impatient. Doesn't he know it's rude to call me when I'm writing?"
"Because you were nervous? I dunno, never felt it." He laughs a bit. "But I'm very glad you mustered up the effort to do it."
"Oh. Are you Nerephos then?"
"Issues with a higher force?" Thorne asks, not looking up from his notes.
"I was worried there..." He sighs, rubbing his eyes.
She puts her mask on, coating her spear with thick poison, before going to attack, leaving Malafasa to follow. (Surprise round) To hit:1414 Damage:65 Scorpion con saves or take 143 Con save:1421
“I guess im lucky I like your boyfriend then. Anyone you approve I probably would’ve approved of either way.”
Mala rushes forward and starts bashing against its mandibles with her hammers. Attack: 10 Damage: Unable to parse dice roll. Attack: 11 Damage: 7 Attack: 8 Damage: 4 Attack: 25 Damage: 7
"You sure about that? 'Cause I've had some pretty [gp]ed up friends in my life. Well, not exactly friends, but that's a story for another day."
Only the last attack, along with Sersha’s pierce through the shell in places, causing them to bleed and shriek, as they wake up. Init:6 Scorpion init:-1
“You aren’t the only one, Paracelsus used to have the nickname Doctor Gaslight, can you guess why?” He says laughing, leaning back in his chair, “I’ve got a girlfriend now though, so that’s nice.”
Init: 14
"Oh?"
Malafasa is the fastest.
“Life’s getting better each day, though she is technically both dead and a monster, sharing two bodies.”
She beats her wings furiously, unleashing a cutting wind. Make a DEX save.
"And that's a... bad thing?"
Dex save:-1 (Wouldn’t this hit Sersha too?)
“Never said that, I do often finding myself loving someone outside of the norm.”
*no she's in the air aiming diagonally down, so it misses her. she's too precise with the wind for that*
The scorpion takes 23 slashing damage as gale after gale ravages its carapace.
"I gotcha. What's her name?"
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.
*idk here have some goobers* Captain Mckinley is once again getting ridiculously drunk
A tall figure with a hat obscuring the top of their face comes into the tavern, nearly bumping their head on a hanging lantern.
I'm garbage at describing clothes but they're wearing this
The person sits down and orders something warm cheerily, adjusting their hat. Their shaggy hair is coal-black, as are their eyes.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) just trying to spread a little positivity wherever I can<3 Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3 Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
Inspector Thorne is in the library of the tavern, looking over an old map of the area. He sips a glass of whiskey, making notes in a small black leather bound notebook of places on the maps.
Samaritan is pacing back and forth, looking a bit agitated. He has somehow smoked three cigars in the last hour, each one smoked right down to the filter.
Azeral is sharpening his sword, sitting on a pile of bodies be has managed to kill in the past day. He is thinking of making himself of throne of bones.
Thirteen is meditating in his chair, trying to commune with something.
Rio is keeping watch over him, worried.
*desc?* Loriche is out hunting and spots him. She stays back, a bit concerned by the carnage.
Thorne glances up to retrieve the whiskey bottle perched on his desk and looks over at Thirteen.
Samaritan turns around, flames nearly bursting to life on his form before blurring out the words "Marry me." to Rio.
*6'7 black armor wearing Angel of Death wearing a mask depicting skeletal features.*
Azeral looks up and tilts his head, nodding at them.
Patterns of interlocking ethereal blue triangles are glowing along his skin.
"Okay." He responds without missing a beat.
Loriche nods back. "You're not a god or anything, right?"
Thorne watches a moment more, intrigued but not one to bother someone when they are occupied.
Samaritan exhales harshly like he just ran across the world's surface, hands on his knees. "Christ.. why was that hard for me.."
"If I was, more than just these few would be dead." He chuckles.
After a bit, Thirteen opens his eyes and sits back up. "So impatient. Doesn't he know it's rude to call me when I'm writing?"
"Because you were nervous? I dunno, never felt it." He laughs a bit. "But I'm very glad you mustered up the effort to do it."
"Oh. Are you Nerephos then?"
"Issues with a higher force?" Thorne asks, not looking up from his notes.
"I was worried there..." He sighs, rubbing his eyes.
"No. A bit worse."
"No, just my nephew. Well, the son of my clone, but basically the same thing."
"You thought I'd say no? Because we haven't been dating all that long or something?"
"Hm. Worse than Nerephos, better than Baphomet... what are you?"
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.
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) just trying to spread a little positivity wherever I can<3 Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3 Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
Inspector Thorne is in the library of the tavern, looking over an old map of the area. He sips a glass of whiskey, making notes in a small black leather bound notebook of places on the maps.
Samaritan is pacing back and forth, looking a bit agitated. He has somehow smoked three cigars in the last hour, each one smoked right down to the filter.
Azeral is sharpening his sword, sitting on a pile of bodies be has managed to kill in the past day. He is thinking of making himself of throne of bones.
Thirteen is meditating in his chair, trying to commune with something.
Rio is keeping watch over him, worried.
*desc?* Loriche is out hunting and spots him. She stays back, a bit concerned by the carnage.
Thorne glances up to retrieve the whiskey bottle perched on his desk and looks over at Thirteen.
Samaritan turns around, flames nearly bursting to life on his form before blurring out the words "Marry me." to Rio.
*6'7 black armor wearing Angel of Death wearing a mask depicting skeletal features.*
Azeral looks up and tilts his head, nodding at them.
Patterns of interlocking ethereal blue triangles are glowing along his skin.
"Okay." He responds without missing a beat.
Loriche nods back. "You're not a god or anything, right?"
Thorne watches a moment more, intrigued but not one to bother someone when they are occupied.
Samaritan exhales harshly like he just ran across the world's surface, hands on his knees. "Christ.. why was that hard for me.."
"If I was, more than just these few would be dead." He chuckles.
After a bit, Thirteen opens his eyes and sits back up. "So impatient. Doesn't he know it's rude to call me when I'm writing?"
"Because you were nervous? I dunno, never felt it." He laughs a bit. "But I'm very glad you mustered up the effort to do it."
"Oh. Are you Nerephos then?"
"Issues with a higher force?" Thorne asks, not looking up from his notes.
"I was worried there..." He sighs, rubbing his eyes.
"No. A bit worse."
"No, just my nephew. Well, the son of my clone, but basically the same thing."
"You thought I'd say no? Because we haven't been dating all that long or something?"
"Hm. Worse than Nerephos, better than Baphomet... what are you?"
"Mn, a bit but not entirely. More of a brother than a clone I would assume but I am not your clone therefore I do not know." He shrugs.
"A bit.. We have been dating yes but I got the feeling you didn't want to be tied down.." he rubs the back of his neck.
He stands up, his heavy iron boots leaving deep prints in the dirt "I am Azeral, the Lord of Blades, the Angel of War and Death."
Inspector Thorne is in the library of the tavern, looking over an old map of the area. He sips a glass of whiskey, making notes in a small black leather bound notebook of places on the maps.
Samaritan is pacing back and forth, looking a bit agitated. He has somehow smoked three cigars in the last hour, each one smoked right down to the filter.
Azeral is sharpening his sword, sitting on a pile of bodies be has managed to kill in the past day. He is thinking of making himself of throne of bones.
He sees Gravedigger walk by
Azeral looks up, his eyes glinting "Evening."
Gravedigger nods to him "good evening. how are you doing?"
*A trident reflavored to be a gunlance. An enormous weapon that fires massive, cannonball-like bullets into targets and knocks them down.*
*A bit lackluster at range, but the trident's mixed-ranged capabilities are no slouch in the 2024 rules.*
*you don't have to change that characters name, it was just... a bit hard reading it.*
*I understand. I don't want to make you uncomfortable. The character isn't really for forum play anyway. He's supposed to be the protagonist to my manga.*
She puts her mask on, coating her spear with thick poison, before going to attack, leaving Malafasa to follow. (Surprise round) To hit:1414 Damage:65 Scorpion con saves or take 143 Con save:1421
“I guess im lucky I like your boyfriend then. Anyone you approve I probably would’ve approved of either way.”
Mala rushes forward and starts bashing against its mandibles with her hammers. Attack: 10 Damage: Unable to parse dice roll. Attack: 11 Damage: 7 Attack: 8 Damage: 4 Attack: 25 Damage: 7
"You sure about that? 'Cause I've had some pretty [gp]ed up friends in my life. Well, not exactly friends, but that's a story for another day."
Only the last attack, along with Sersha’s pierce through the shell in places, causing them to bleed and shriek, as they wake up. Init:6 Scorpion init:-1
“You aren’t the only one, Paracelsus used to have the nickname Doctor Gaslight, can you guess why?” He says laughing, leaning back in his chair, “I’ve got a girlfriend now though, so that’s nice.”
Init: 14
"Oh?"
Malafasa is the fastest.
“Life’s getting better each day, though she is technically both dead and a monster, sharing two bodies.”
She beats her wings furiously, unleashing a cutting wind. Make a DEX save.
"And that's a... bad thing?"
Dex save:-1 (Wouldn’t this hit Sersha too?)
“Never said that, I do often finding myself loving someone outside of the norm.”
*no she's in the air aiming diagonally down, so it misses her. she's too precise with the wind for that*
The scorpion takes 22 slashing damage as gale after gale ravages its carapace.
"I gotcha. What's her name?"
With the poison and the wind and the hammer and the spear, the Scorpion never stood a chance, dropping to the ground, leaking blood and venom. Sersha looks to them in awe, pulling down her mask, “You… really are amazing.”
“Rei, hopefully I won’t do anything stupid and lose her too.”
Inspector Thorne is in the library of the tavern, looking over an old map of the area. He sips a glass of whiskey, making notes in a small black leather bound notebook of places on the maps.
Samaritan is pacing back and forth, looking a bit agitated. He has somehow smoked three cigars in the last hour, each one smoked right down to the filter.
Azeral is sharpening his sword, sitting on a pile of bodies be has managed to kill in the past day. He is thinking of making himself of throne of bones.
Thirteen is meditating in his chair, trying to commune with something.
Rio is keeping watch over him, worried.
*desc?* Loriche is out hunting and spots him. She stays back, a bit concerned by the carnage.
Thorne glances up to retrieve the whiskey bottle perched on his desk and looks over at Thirteen.
Samaritan turns around, flames nearly bursting to life on his form before blurring out the words "Marry me." to Rio.
*6'7 black armor wearing Angel of Death wearing a mask depicting skeletal features.*
Azeral looks up and tilts his head, nodding at them.
Patterns of interlocking ethereal blue triangles are glowing along his skin.
"Okay." He responds without missing a beat.
Loriche nods back. "You're not a god or anything, right?"
Thorne watches a moment more, intrigued but not one to bother someone when they are occupied.
Samaritan exhales harshly like he just ran across the world's surface, hands on his knees. "Christ.. why was that hard for me.."
"If I was, more than just these few would be dead." He chuckles.
After a bit, Thirteen opens his eyes and sits back up. "So impatient. Doesn't he know it's rude to call me when I'm writing?"
"Because you were nervous? I dunno, never felt it." He laughs a bit. "But I'm very glad you mustered up the effort to do it."
"Oh. Are you Nerephos then?"
"Issues with a higher force?" Thorne asks, not looking up from his notes.
"I was worried there..." He sighs, rubbing his eyes.
"No. A bit worse."
"No, just my nephew. Well, the son of my clone, but basically the same thing."
"You thought I'd say no? Because we haven't been dating all that long or something?"
"Hm. Worse than Nerephos, better than Baphomet... what are you?"
"Mn, a bit but not entirely. More of a brother than a clone I would assume but I am not your clone therefore I do not know." He shrugs.
"A bit.. We have been dating yes but I got the feeling you didn't want to be tied down.." he rubs the back of his neck.
He stands up, his heavy iron boots leaving deep prints in the dirt "I am Azeral, the Lord of Blades, the Angel of War and Death."
"Well, given the genetic identicality of clones, she's basically my twin sister. More or less. I just call him 'nephew' either way. For brevity's sake."
"Pffft. There's a difference between relationships I had in the past and this one. You're just... fulfilling."
"Lord of blades? Well all the blades I made are mine! And I'm not handing them over."
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.
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After a bit, Thirteen opens his eyes and sits back up. "So impatient. Doesn't he know it's rude to call me when I'm writing?"
"Because you were nervous? I dunno, never felt it." He laughs a bit. "But I'm very glad you mustered up the effort to do it."
"Oh. Are you Nerephos then?"
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Issues with a higher force?" Thorne asks, not looking up from his notes.
"I was worried there..." He sighs, rubbing his eyes.
"No. A bit worse."
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
*no she's in the air aiming diagonally down, so it misses her. she's too precise with the wind for that*
The scorpion takes 23 slashing damage as gale after gale ravages its carapace.
"I gotcha. What's her name?"
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
The person sits down and orders something warm cheerily, adjusting their hat. Their shaggy hair is coal-black, as are their eyes.
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) just trying to spread a little positivity wherever I can<3
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
"No, just my nephew. Well, the son of my clone, but basically the same thing."
"You thought I'd say no? Because we haven't been dating all that long or something?"
"Hm. Worse than Nerephos, better than Baphomet... what are you?"
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*A trident reflavored to be a gunlance. An enormous weapon that fires massive, cannonball-like bullets into targets and knocks them down.*
*A bit lackluster at range, but the trident's mixed-ranged capabilities are no slouch in the 2024 rules.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*rp?*
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) just trying to spread a little positivity wherever I can<3
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
*i like*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Mn, a bit but not entirely. More of a brother than a clone I would assume but I am not your clone therefore I do not know." He shrugs.
"A bit.. We have been dating yes but I got the feeling you didn't want to be tied down.." he rubs the back of his neck.
He stands up, his heavy iron boots leaving deep prints in the dirt "I am Azeral, the Lord of Blades, the Angel of War and Death."
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
they/her Always open to chat. Just send me a PM
Maybe I should talk to a therapist
Someone that can hear me
Every time I try to talk to someone close (someone near me)
They don't hear me (they don't hear me)
Yeah, they don't really hear me (yeah, they don't really hear me
*I understand. I don't want to make you uncomfortable. The character isn't really for forum play anyway. He's supposed to be the protagonist to my manga.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
With the poison and the wind and the hammer and the spear, the Scorpion never stood a chance, dropping to the ground, leaking blood and venom. Sersha looks to them in awe, pulling down her mask, “You… really are amazing.”
“Rei, hopefully I won’t do anything stupid and lose her too.”
*Hello my beloved, wanna rp?*
*Gunlance? Like from Monster Hunter? I love Monster, there is someone who made a subclass that actually made all of the weapons from that into items.*
"Well, given the genetic identicality of clones, she's basically my twin sister. More or less. I just call him 'nephew' either way. For brevity's sake."
"Pffft. There's a difference between relationships I had in the past and this one. You're just... fulfilling."
"Lord of blades? Well all the blades I made are mine! And I'm not handing them over."
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.