*You can be standoffish at times. These forums rely on mutual respect and trust. You seem to be more focused on being the strongest or living some sort of power fantasy instead of sharing the fun with others. Most people don't have fun being trashed, especially when they didn't see it coming for one reason or another.*
*To be perfectly clear, I am in no way saying you're a bad person or anything along those lines. I'm just trying to bring this to your attention.*
*You can be standoffish at times. These forums rely on mutual respect and trust. You seem to be more focused on being the strongest or living some sort of power fantasy instead of sharing the fun with others. Most people don't have fun being trashed, especially when they didn't see it coming for one reason or another.*
*To be perfectly clear, I am in no way saying you're a bad person or anything along those lines. I'm just trying to bring this to your attention.*
*It's all true, I wanted a reputation, I'm also trying to have fun, the reason I'm ruining other people's fun is that im trying to keep my char alive *
Illya is frying rice in a large wok, wearing bright and colorful yellow and orange saree with glittering beads. She hums to herself as her robotic children help her, gathering the spices she needs or any herbs.
Illya is frying rice in a large wok, wearing bright and colorful yellow and orange saree with glittering beads. She hums to herself as her robotic children help her, gathering the spices she needs or any herbs.
A figure emerges from the tunnels. A figure shaped like a tall, slightly chubby woman, but with hollow, harrowed red eyes, half-hidden behind a mask of sticks, bark, and strips of fabric. Dressed in a cream-colored apron with powders all over it, scholarly clothes, and armor made of petrified ironwood much like his mask, his humanoid silhouette is distorted to look like some sort of bizarre beast.
He carries a large bread basket on his back, filled with fresh sourdough loaves and baguettes.
Illya is frying rice in a large wok, wearing bright and colorful yellow and orange saree with glittering beads. She hums to herself as her robotic children help her, gathering the spices she needs or any herbs.
A figure emerges from the tunnels. A figure shaped like a tall, slightly chubby woman, but with hollow, harrowed red eyes, half-hidden behind a mask of sticks, bark, and strips of fabric. Dressed in a cream-colored apron with powders all over it, scholarly clothes, and armor made of petrified ironwood much like his mask, his humanoid silhouette is distorted to look like some sort of bizarre beast.
He carries a large bread basket on his back, filled with fresh sourdough loaves and baguettes.
The wolfwoman smiles, baring sharp teeth that glitter like gold. She bows her head down deeply, a sign of respect "Hello there. Care for a meal?'
A figure emerges from the tunnels. A figure shaped like a tall, slightly chubby woman, but with hollow, harrowed red eyes, half-hidden behind a mask of sticks, bark, and strips of fabric. Dressed in a cream-colored apron with powders all over it, scholarly clothes, and armor made of petrified ironwood much like his mask, his humanoid silhouette is distorted to look like some sort of bizarre beast.
He carries a large bread basket on his back, filled with fresh sourdough loaves and baguettes.
The wolfwoman smiles, baring sharp teeth that glitter like gold. She bows her head down deeply, a sign of respect "Hello there. Care for a meal?'
He does a sweeping, dramatic bow, going so low that the bread almost falls out of his conical pack. "I would greatly appreciate that." He skips forward and offers a stack of flatbreads from his basket.
A figure emerges from the tunnels. A figure shaped like a tall, slightly chubby woman, but with hollow, harrowed red eyes, half-hidden behind a mask of sticks, bark, and strips of fabric. Dressed in a cream-colored apron with powders all over it, scholarly clothes, and armor made of petrified ironwood much like his mask, his humanoid silhouette is distorted to look like some sort of bizarre beast.
He carries a large bread basket on his back, filled with fresh sourdough loaves and baguettes.
The wolfwoman smiles, baring sharp teeth that glitter like gold. She bows her head down deeply, a sign of respect "Hello there. Care for a meal?'
He does a sweeping, dramatic bow, going so low that the bread almost falls out of his conical pack. "I would greatly appreciate that." He skips forward and offers a stack of flatbreads from his basket.
She grabs a plate and hands him it back filled with fried rice. She grins again "There you go dear, I wouldn't want you to starve out here. Although, I think you are quite well off no? I am glad if you are, food is important!"
*Have you considered why they might not like you?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*May I be brutally honest with you?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*You can be standoffish at times. These forums rely on mutual respect and trust. You seem to be more focused on being the strongest or living some sort of power fantasy instead of sharing the fun with others. Most people don't have fun being trashed, especially when they didn't see it coming for one reason or another.*
*To be perfectly clear, I am in no way saying you're a bad person or anything along those lines. I'm just trying to bring this to your attention.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*I see*
*What kind of reputation do you want?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Well, maybe try and explain it to them. If you can't find precise words, you can try showing it through metaphors or characters, like what I do.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
Illya is frying rice in a large wok, wearing bright and colorful yellow and orange saree with glittering beads. She hums to herself as her robotic children help her, gathering the spices she needs or any herbs.
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
A figure emerges from the tunnels. A figure shaped like a tall, slightly chubby woman, but with hollow, harrowed red eyes, half-hidden behind a mask of sticks, bark, and strips of fabric. Dressed in a cream-colored apron with powders all over it, scholarly clothes, and armor made of petrified ironwood much like his mask, his humanoid silhouette is distorted to look like some sort of bizarre beast.
He carries a large bread basket on his back, filled with fresh sourdough loaves and baguettes.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
The wolfwoman smiles, baring sharp teeth that glitter like gold. She bows her head down deeply, a sign of respect "Hello there. Care for a meal?'
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 does a sweeping, dramatic bow, going so low that the bread almost falls out of his conical pack. "I would greatly appreciate that." He skips forward and offers a stack of flatbreads from his basket.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
Cal is in the tunnels near Zekudar Square Station, having just annihilated a pack of feral unchipped
Rose is at her camp
Link is stealing from a hunter's cache
You guys are awesome and mean so much to me. And mean so much to each other.
*yeah!*
You guys are awesome and mean so much to me. And mean so much to each other.
She grabs a plate and hands him it back filled with fried rice. She grins again "There you go dear, I wouldn't want you to starve out here. Although, I think you are quite well off no? I am glad if you are, food is important!"
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
Typhon stands across the tunnel from him, silently watching.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels