<Snipped quote by MsMorningstar>

Yes they would! Though expect some tribulations going their way. Feel free to join the discord for a much more active OOC!

discord.gg/HFy8ZyQ

<Snipped quote by LetMeDoStuff>

Great! Also, is that the proper discord link? It says there's 93 Members lol!

This feels familiar . . .

WIP Mora Kingsly [+]

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^{<Snipped quote by Ra-Ra>}

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• Ra-Ra
• 112th Trainee Corps
• Pansexual
• 01/20/833
• 167 cm
• 180 lbs
• Caucasian

^{Thick-headed
Chaotic
Bull-ish
Brash
Temperamental
Bratty
Loyal}

^{Things go here}

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^{Stuff goes here}

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Sometimes you're the hammer, sometimes you're the nail [+]

_{emo trash}

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<Snipped quote by HecateProxy>

Ra-Ra Rasputin

Once upon a time (yesterday) I glanced at the recent visitors section of my profile, and my eye was caught by a certain profile picture. A certain princess from a certain game. Out of curiosity I looked at that person's posts in the hopes of finding an rp inspired by said certain game, and while I didn't find anything of the sort I did spot something else interesting...

So uh... To cut a long story short, this rp has tempted me. Would you still happen to be accepting new characters?

Once upon a time (yesterday) I glanced at the recent visitors section of my profile, and my eye was caught by a certain profile picture. A certain princess from a certain game. Out of curiosity I looked at that person's posts in the hopes of finding an rp inspired by said certain game, and while I didn't find anything of the sort I did spot something else interesting...

So uh... To cut a long story short, this rp has tempted me. Would you still happen to be accepting new characters?

Mora Kingsly [+]

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^{<Snipped quote by Ra-Ra>}

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• Ra-Ra
• 112th Trainee Corps
• Pansexual
• 01/20/833
• 167 cm
• 180 lbs
• Caucasian

^{Thick-headed
Chaotic
Bull-ish
Brash
Temperamental
Bratty
Loyal}

Simple.

Mora was simplicity at her finest, at least when in came to terms of fashion. Her style choices leaned towards plain shirts and pants, both falling a bit too loose on her wiry frame. Though her wild-fire hair and mischievous emerald eyes brought more than enough color to her persona. If not then the thick scar that puckered from her tawny skin, down her left eye sparked many a conversation. Not that the girl's mouth wouldn’t do so on its own.

Unlike her older brothers, Mora favored her mother in terms of stature. She was slim with lean muscle hidden behind the puppy-fat of youth. Her height was stunted—as she would put it—at a modest 167 cm. Though it was her father’s spirit that embodied the teen. His reckless and curious nature was now her own down to her core. Leaving her with little scars marred between sprinkled freckles and rough to the touch calloused and worn hands.

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A beloved daughter.

Blessed be the mother who bares her first daughter, for it is a bond not easily broken.

Or at least that is how it’s supposed to go. Mora was often plagued by guilt-addled tongues reminding her of the pure joy her mother experienced after finally having a girl after six wild and unruly boys. Though much to her mother’s despair, and probably others, the youth was more interested in following the large footprints of her elder brothers than her mother’s smaller ones.

She thrived on the familial competitive nature that bonded her brothers. Mora would pester and push until she went through them all one-by-one in any challenge her spirited mind could think of. And should she fail? Then she would keep reissuing the fight until she won. Though parts of her suspected a handful of her wins were given to her just to get her to shut up.

And while she was the spirit carbon copy of her old man, Mora did happen to find some common threads in which to bond with her mother. In fact she was quite fond of learning to stitch and sew; a favored hobby of her mother's. Side by side she would help mend and repair torn clothes from a rough day of work and play. And the day she tumbled off the old rickety tower and split the skin on her face she was thrilled to learn that the skill-set helped in medicinal uses as well. As her mother quickly, and painfully, stitched her back together.

Despite it all though Mora was never able to shake her need for something more. Something bigger than her quaint little town. More thrilling than who could reach the downtown well faster. And taller than the cobbled stone buildings and houses that her fingers and toes had grasped while she scampered up and over their sides. And all of that inspiration, yearning, and fire ended up turning her eyes and setting her heart on the one thing that actually made her mother cry, the military.

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Sometimes you're the hammer, sometimes you're the nail [+]

_{emo trash}

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