Status

Recent Statuses

1 yr ago
Current Status updates, huh? Who needs those anyways, pfft
1 like
2 yrs ago
Nothing brings more tear to my eyes tham coming back to the site after MONTHS and seeing my post/day gone below 3, even below 2.5! And to think it was above 4 at points in my life T_T
1 like
2 yrs ago
University began today, and all my sumemr hopes and dreams shattered in one quick cacaphony of broken glass. My mondays will always kill me inside, I can already see it...
2 yrs ago
I am completely ruining my PPD, but I am just too absorbed with Dicord RPs to start something real slow on the forums. Someone help me, this hurts.
1 like
2 yrs ago
I figured I should update my status. Tada!
1 like

Bio

N I S Q H O G
Mое описание



Male|Twenty|Not Actually Russian


THE MORE AWESOMEST POTATO:

Let me properly introduce myself. I am Sir Spud the Fourth, and I have been a potato for the longest time ever. I never denied it to be completely honest, but it is only recently that I embraced it. Now I have evolved from a simple couch potato to a fully grown royal potato. A dapper kawaii potato. And I dare say, knowing that you are a spud, makes life a lot easier. Just chill and let everyone else care about all their meaningless things because at the end of the day you'll know: chilling is the way to go.

I try to spend minimal effort on things that I don't care about, and procrastination might as well be my middle name. But that doesn't mean I ONLY rest. Sometimes a 'tato gotta do what a 'tato gotta do. And if that something happens to be things I like, then you cannot find anyone better than me. I am an omnipotent being capable of virtually any task to a limited degree, and I am not shy to admit it. I may not be the MOST AWESOMEST in a thing, but I am sure as hell MORE AWESOMEST than most people are at everything. But hey, I'm not here to brag, even if I am probabaly better at it than you


THE DREAMER:

All those nights laying in my couch, I thought about the cool shit that I cannot do. That I cannot see. But I pictured them in front of myself like they were real, and that infuraited me. Then I found the Guild, and I lived happily after. I have been on the site for 2 years now, and I have seen many RPs, and played with many people. I wish I have found the site earlier, but I am glad that I've even found it. Now all those fantasies can be written down and my mind can rest at ease at night, without being constantly troubled by ideas.

When I RP, I love myself some good Sci-Fi or Fantasy. But hey I am filthy casual, I can go for anything with an interesting setting. I don't trouble myself on small details if the plot is good, but if you get somwthing wrong you can expect me to tell you about it. Some even go as far as to think that I am angry or something, but I am too chill for that. If anything I'm more of the funny type, so you can expect me to try and write some shitty jokes or post memes I found on the internet. Anyways, you'll see what I mean when we RP together.


THE HOBBY ARTIST:

I won't lie when I say that alongside RPing, I have one more serious hobby. I fell in love with 3D art the moment I learned about it. At first, I tried to convey my amazing ideas onto paper, but they never really worked out. So instead I turned towards modelling stuff on the PC. I began learning the fundamentals of 3D art in the summer fo 2017, and I've been doing things related to it almost every now and then. You can never learn enough about these things, and despite the school sapping me fo determination, I have hopes that I'll be able to improve my abilities.

I like to test my limits, so if you have any suggestions for a 3D artwork that I should work on next, feel free to PM me your idea! If you also happen to be a struggling hobby artist who uses Photoshop and a drawing board, I am sure we could work together to make some cool things. But enough advertising, that's enough about my hobbies.


THE LOVER OF STUFF:

Now I may have hobbies like the above mentioned, but there are some more things that I love in life. Here is a handy list of things you can always talk about with me:

  • Gaming: This one I am quite proud of, I'm a serious gamer with capital G.
  • Music: All kinds of electronic music, but I am a sucker for Queen.
  • Airsoft: Jumping into military uniforms and shooting other people with small plastic bullets is really fun.
  • Anime: We all have an Otaku in us, but it's bigger for some people.


WORDS OF WISDOM:

Be chill folks, getting fed up about stuff is a recipe for disaster. You gotta learn to be patient and let things go, or you'll end up a wrinkly old man/woman with only bad memories about life. Even if you do fuck-all every day, you can live a content life by taking things easy. With that said, as always, stay safe and stay classy.

Most Recent Posts






Day 1, Week 25, Cycle 1
Summertime, 25 C°, Overcast


As summer time comes to an end, the clouds over the island begin to slowly fade away. It seems as if the storm has passed, but left behind a great deal of destruction. Tress torn from the ground as the monstrous winds uprooted them. Plains that once used to be grazing grounds for animals now lay as impassable bogs that have to be avoided. Coastlines riddled with debris carried over from faraway islands as branches and algae scatter the shining sand for miles. But at the end of the storm, the sun shines brighter, and the inhabitants of the island can claim themselves rightful owner of this land, having survived the storm.

It is on this day, at the closing weeks of summer that the sky darkens once more. The previous day the rain began to pour from the heavens, perhaps as a last effort from the monsoon to ruin the lives of the people below. As it carried throughout the night, the inhabitants of the island wake to darkened skies and the rain pouring more than ever. The air is calm but heavy, and the water pouring from above obscures vision out past a few dozen feet. Everything feels wet and humid, and even the mighty Ruh hide in their nests. Rivers once calm are starting to pour out again, and the swampy marshlands of the island swell in size even more.

By noon, the sky is dark and the sound of pouring rain is deafening. Only the thunderous roars of distant lightning and the flashes of glowing white seep through this hazy blanket. All over the island, shadows of unknown figures appear for moments in the hazy fog, only to disappear once more into the rain. Screeches and roars of the wildlife go unknown to the rest of the island as this all consuming darkness and rain devour the light from the heavens above.

It is only as the afternoon shifts into evening that the skies begin to clear up, and the first ray of light simmers through the clouds above. Soon enough, the clouds drift off towards the east, carrying with them the terrible storm that can be seen from the coasts of the island for hours to come.

But what the storm left behind, is an island vastly different from what it once was. There is a fickle buzz in the air, like a charge of electricity that is only enough to tickle the skin. The landscapes of the many biomes have been altered, and now lie as testaments to the true nature of this storm: one of a change diligently executed under the blanket of darkness and deafening rain.

Upon the western slopes of the mountains a sinkhole hundreds of meters across, and perhaps thousands deep has appeared, like a portal leading into the underworld that is fed by the rivers flowing into it's endless depths. In the south eastern peninsula, protrusions of rock and minerals extend a hundred or more meters into the air, like strange alien beacons conveying some alien message. In the northeast, the people awaken to the sight of a massive tree that soars almost two hundred meters into the air, a sight that is oh-so familiar to the hearts of the Sonjari people.

These, and perhaps hundreds more less visible vistas cover the island that once knew how to be tame with it's inhabitants. But what changes lie ahead, now that the weather will start to grow cold and the landscape has changed, nobody knows. It is up to the brave pathfinders to find and exploit what the soil has to offer, and make a way for a new life now that the worst has come to past. And as the sun finally disappears over the horizon, the inhabitants of the island are greeted by a show of light upon the dark sky: an arch of debris fills up the star dotted view of the night, extending from one edge of the horizon to the other as it glows with a faint light reflected down upon the surface. And even though the day had brought so much to bear upon the denizens of the island, this soft light fills them with hope. A feeling that things will be alright from now on as long as they keep on going and make the best of this new, fantastic world.










Location: Canyon
Time: Evening


It had been a rather relaxing ride with the sunrunners so far. She managed to get onto a Boga in the end, and she spent most of the journey lazily laying down against her mount and scratching it's gills as they traveled. It reminded her of the old times, the better times. When she still had people to be around and spend time with. When her life wasn't a constant mess of contracts and running away into further and further lands to get away from everyone.

Inside, she already hated this. Once she remained distant from other because she couldn't deal with her grief, but nowadays it was just a habit that she got into. But deep inside she yearned for people to call a family and friends. Letting out a small huff the girl closed her eyes, letting the Boga's movements consume her thoughts for the moment. This always calmed her down whenever the demons of her past came to haunt her.

Then she heard her name and she groggily peeked p from the saddle, facing down a large wall of sand that was headed straight for them. Next time, don't mention warding off sandstorms. It's just asking for a trouble.

With a long sigh she grabbed the reins of her boga and quickly sped up to enter next to the schooner and look up at Hawke. For a moment she held her gaze, a neutral expression on her face as she contemplated what to say. After a long second she eased up and pouted as her face turned over towards the storm. "I wish it was only the schooner, I could protect it all night long. But here... I can buy you an extra 5, maybe 10 minutes." Karissa explained, her head tilting to the side a bit as she took in the sight of the storm. With a deep breath, she took in the air around them, feeling around for what she was dealing with here. Her amulet lit up with a dim light for a moment before she looked up at Hawke. "I'll go forward and meet our guest. I hope this Boga is as fast as the stablehand said it was. Once the wind wall falls, this storm is going to come here mighty fast. If you're not done by then, you better haul ass to safety."

With that she pulled on the reigns before she used her feet to signal the boga to ride forward. "Hekte!" With that she darted off on her Boga, putting a good hundred meters between herself and the others before she finally came to a halt. Quickly hopping off her boga, she took a stance besides the beast and closed her eyes, her hands reaching out towards the storm as the amulet on her neck began to glow brightly.

Slowly, a shimmering wall of whirling winds began to emerge from the ground up, some of the sand from the approaching storm already getting caught on it. It stopped after it grew about 8 meters in diameter, and Karissa let out a little huff as she opened her eyes again. "Alright, easy peasy girl. Just be sure to leave some juice for when the storm arrives..." She muttered to herself as her eyes stared at the incoming storm for a few seconds. This is certainly not how she imagined this trip to go.


Sonjari




Deep within within the jungle of the island, far north of the mountain range that dominated the island, a Sonjari raised it's head to the sky with a squint of it's beady eyes. Then another one, then a few more, until all 100 of them were staring up at the grey sky that stretched far above them. It was raining in that melancholic afternoon fashion that makes you want to stare out of the window for hours, but this wasn't what perplexed the Sonjari.

No, they could... feel the change. Something was coming. This wasn't just a normal rain, not something that they could dance in and enjoy while they guarded their origin tree. No, this was something else, something much more sinister.

They knew, because it wasn't supposed to rain yet. Rain always comes in the afternoon, but it was hardly even noon. Highly unusual for a place that was so predictable for the people who have lived their whole life in a forest, even if they don't remember it. Their instincts were there, and even though they couldn't tell why exactly, they knew that this wasn't supposed to be happening.

Eventually one of the Sonjari, a burly winter turned his head away from the sky and back towards the upturned mounds around the area where the Sonjari have planted the only sapling they had from the Ősfa. When 3 months ago they found themselves on this island all of a sudden, everything they thought they knew ceased to exist. They were thrown into a chaos, not knowing what will be of them on this island that they clearly knew had to sapling from their tree. It was during this initial chaos that this same winter scoured the area of their first landing and stumbled upon a small tree, barely a sapling, that resonated with an all too familiar energy. Gathering around it, the Sonjari finally organized under the leadership of the winter and a short spring who excelled with the words. For a week they scoured a place to plant their sapling, and after some initial encounters with the wildlife and scouring the forest for a good place they have found said place.

It has been 3 months since, and the Ősfa has grown into the size of an ancient oak, it's foliage finally starting to pierce that of the forest around him. Trees around it have been cut down and their trunks removed to give space for the mighty sapling to mature, and the wood they gained this way were used to construct primitive huts made of sticks and thatch. The burly winter now turned towards said houses, clay pots with various contents strewn about them. This would not do, they needed to prepare.

"Inya, to me." He called out, and a few of the Sonjari turned to him as his voice pierced the music of the rain. One of the smaller springs had a confusion on their face, their foliage rustling a bit as they sighed and walked over to the winter, looking up into the eyes of the larger winter for a moment before taking their place besides him.

"Sons, I call to you!" The winter now explained as he raised his hand towards the sky, his simply spear in one of his hands. "The weather is changing, and it means that we must adapt! The tree needs to be protected, especially now when it's still but a sapling, a shadow of it's former glory. We need to get a move on, and gather food for ourselves!" His voice was harsh and brazen, but it carried no ill intent as it addressed his kin. The winter stopped here for a moment and turned his head towards the smaller spring besides him. It looked back up for a moment, anxiously changing their stance before taking a step forward to speak as well. "Kor is right, we must do what we can to prepare for the worst. We do not know what weather the clouds bring. I will go with the springs and autumns into the mountains to see if we can't find any more evidence of other Sonjari, or other saplings of the tree. The winters will stay here to guard the tree, under the leadership of Kor, and the summers will continue to forage in the woods."

Inya was clearly about to say something else too, but Kor took a step forward, silencing the other Sonjari and making the others shift uncomfortably as they began scurrying around their little campsite to gather their equipment. "Remember sons, the tree relies on us to protect it, especially now. It once was a force of nature, blessing us with sentience and life, but now the roles have been reversed and we must protect it!" He took a short break here as he looked back towards the tree. It was all a lie, but a convincing one. No Sonjari knew what exactly the Ősfa is really like when it grows up, but they all knew that they had a strong connection to it, and that it birthed them. Anything else was but a suspicion or a lie, and lie which Kor has been playing form the moment he found the tree. He could not stand seeing his people lose hope when they knew they would surely die without their tree. He had to step up and establish order where there was none.

It didn't come naturally to the winter, but over the past 3 months he and the spring established a primitive form of order amongst their peers. Broken into groups based on their season, they Sonjari were split into groups who were assigned different tasks. The Winters were their warriors, the Springs their gatherers, the Autumns their explorers and hunters, while the Springs usually remained around the tree to tend to it and cater to the needs of the other groups. And so far it has been working well for them, but they all knew that this split into groups didn't come naturally. With time, they would have to change, but that could wait until the tree was fully grown.

"Gather your tools. We split at noon, when the sun is right above the great tree. That is all." With that Kor gave a meaningful glance at Inya before he tightened the grip on his spear and turned his back to the other Sonjari and walked up to the great tree where a small group of winters were standing ground, staring at him intently after his announcement. By now, most of the winters have accepted Kor as their leader, but the other seasons always saw Inya as the one who should speak. The spring had a way with words that wasn't such dramatic as Kor, and unlike the winter, Inya wasn't such hard on them.

Without either of them, there would be chaos again among their ranks. Everybody could feel the tension in the air, and at night could hear as the two argued over what the Sonjari should do to survive. But for now there was an uneasy alliance, and while Kor was guarding the tree with his winters it would remain so.







Day 1, Week 12, Cycle 1
Summertime, 17 C°, Overcast


On the dawn of the first day of the 12th week, the wind carried the smell of salt deep inland, up the highest peaks of the island and down into it's deepest valleys. The birds of the forest were awfully quiet, and the game seemed more reluctant to leave their nests and homes in search for food. It was the unmistakable smell of the great storms coming from the south, the winds carrying their scent hundreds of miles ahead of the clouds themselves as a stark warning to all that they were on the way. A reminder that they did not forget their old promise to return, and a silent vow that they will visit till the end of times.

The unruly waves washed floatwood and palm leaves onto the southern beaches of the island, along with plenty of fish that was unfortunate enough to be swimming near the beach. The caves echoed with the sound of the ocean and cliffs roared as the unmovable rock faces clashed with the raging waves. By the afternoon, the clouds have begun marching across the sky over both the island, with light rain showering the forests and grasslands that made up most of the land, and brought life to the dry deserts of the mountains as their flowers boomed with vibrant colors.

But all who dwelled on the island, even the animals deep in the forest and caves, knew very well that this lighthearted trickery of the wind and the sky would not last for long. Deep down inside the brain of even the smallest insect, the gears began to turn and survival instincts switched gears. It would not take more than several days before the sky would turn grey and spew lightning and thunder forth, bringing with itself tides meters high and incessant rain that would blur out the sun for weeks, or days if they were lucky.

It was the calm before the storm, and the animals of the forest and the hills knew this very well, covering deep within their nests or scurrying around frantically looking for supplies that they could use to weather the storm.



The British Empire started out as nothing more than a decent sized island too. With time, these proportions will grow





Day 1, Week 1, Cycle 1
Springtime, 21 C°, Sunny



The sun rises over a world unknown to it's denizes. Upon it's unfamiliar shorelines and peaks, indescribable canopies of strange flora cast's animated shadows. The forest is alive with fauna that they have never seen before, and the cacophony of sounds that are escaping from it fill their hearts with doubt. What is this place? What are they doing here? Who are they...

A myriad of questions fill their minds by the time they group up, all of them looking just as confused as the other ones. They are without clothes or any sort of tools. Some feel the touch of gowns that are no longer upon their bodies, while others squint as their eyes readjust to not having to wear... something. It feels as if their mind's library has been violently cleared down and then burned to the ground, only leaving the most essential of skills untouched. This only becomes more apparent as their mouths begin to form words and it spirals into a frenzy of speech about concepts that they can't quite put their finger on.

Indeed, by the time the group quiets down, they are all left dumbfounded. Whereas minutes ago they were full of these lingering thoughts and feelings, they have now thrown away most of them in desperation. As the air around them finally comes to an awkward silence, only disturbed by the sounds of nature, their instincts begin to kick in. The basic necessities that they weren't aware that they needed until now begin to form in their heads. The goal is now clear, clearer than ever: they have to survive.

The island around them remains vibrant with life, but silent about their questions. It doesn't deny nor confirm their newfound realization about their very own survival. It simply surrounds them with it's bountyful forests and rivers, watching over them as it always has... A herd of large herbivores with spiky protrusions on their head watch them as they graze on the lush grass, their eyes watching them in silence. Perhaps they are wondering what these new arrivals to their land area, sizing them up to see if they are any threat. On this island full of mysteries, the only thing familiar is themselves, and the same confused but determined look in all of their eyes.

The sun rises over a world no more unknown to it's denizens than it was an hour ago. But it's not as scary as before. It's not as strange and mysterious, however alien some things may appear at first glance. No, they have each other and they have their primal instincts. And with it, they will brave the land as the sun rises over it and casts it's long shadows, and thrive. They will thrive, because they have to.



@SonOfFire Woah! What a surprise bomb ^^

Come meet is in the Discord and say hit o the boys! That sheet looks really neat, I like it! Drop that badboy in the CS and give us a rough idea on where you'd want to start (preferrably on the west haha)
@Skepic Well, certainly can't wait to see them once they get their hands on some guns

Welcome aboard buddy! Come, join us in the Discord and have a nice chat ^^
@Klomster Kinda and Kinda. And indeed, the Mordukai are a bit broken atm for a purely mechanics perspective haha. But I put good faith in Ascendant to make such a thing work.

But to elaborate on your question, I will happily put "carnivorous" under a purely cosmetic version. Unlike the very specific diet one, simply being a carnivore or a herbivore isn't exactly THAT limiting. As such, it is more of a free roleplay flavor thing to pick up, no need for it to be a trait.

As being weak to cold climates, well, I could definitely chalk it up as "nonadaptable" for a race who starts in warm climates. For that it isn't very clear cut, but you can get away with a +1 trait Nonadaptable (Cold).
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