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8 yrs ago
So tired, sleep why do you spurn me?!
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Hiya, AChronum here! Although I'm relatively new to rping, I have plenty of writing experience and love trying new genres and styles. I absolutely love high magic fantasy RPs and am pretty much willing to do anything so long as I can create a charaxter, not play an existing one, and develop lots and lots of backstory! I'm perfectly comfortable with all mature themes as well, although smut for smut's sake is out of the question.

Interested in an RP? Send me a PM and have a magically marvelous day!

Most Recent Posts

Danny Kingston

Location: Framework, BG3
Skills: Pyrokinesis

“Well, damn Spicy, be t'at way. Just double down wit’ t'e Daniel shit why don'tcha.” Danni grumbled, pouting at Percy’s absolute refusal. “Come oooon. Diana, don'tcha t'ink ‘e should give me a nickname? ‘e's a smart kid he'e could probs t'ink of a good one! T'ough I guess I ‘aven't t'ought of one for you but t'at's cause we don't ‘ang out very much so I don't ‘ave a lot ta go on. And we don't wanna use t'e whole bow and arrow shtick, overused, underwhelmin’. Could we… maybe…” Danni snapped out of his thoughts as Mads took a nasty fireball again.

“I'm very glad t'at everyone ‘as big plans ta get out, but can we maybe put t'is into action? Manifest t'is t'rough more extreme violence maybe?” Danni suggested, his disappointment with Percy and need to nickname Diana forgotten as he whirled fire in his hands again and sent it hurtling at the cultist dead fucking set on killing Mads. “Also, again come on. It's not fair t'rowin’ fire at people who can't t’row it back. Come pick on someone wit’ your own skill set!” Danni stuck his tongue out at the dead cultist, only to go cross eyed as he tried to look at his tongue. Did dragons have normal tongues? Or did they have like, snake tongues? Or was it rough like a cat's?

Unfortunately, his futile attempts to figure that out would have to wait. Leah’s prying open a pod and Danni cheered in delight as a familiar voice popped up. “Mai? OMG Mai! You vanish off t'e face of t'e Earth and t'en you come ‘ere ta help us? Talk ‘bout mixed signals!” Danni as rambunctious as he was, still wasn’t able to get to her faster that Percy and he let out an audible gasp as Percy clocked her. “Wtf, Spicy?! It's Mai! Why'd- What- See, t'is is why it's a good nickname! T'is exact kinda bullshit is what I'd t'ink of when I heard someone was spicy. Did you kill ‘er? Is she dead? Wake up Mai!” Danni skidded to a halt next to her and dropped to his knees, flashbacks of a velvet jacket making him nervous to touch and so his hands just hovered nervously over her.
Danny Kingston

Location: Framework, BG3
Skills: Pyrokinesis

“Oye, what t'e ‘eck is wit’ t'is Daniel nonsense? Who in t'is whole damn school calls me t'at? I'm Danni. Everybody calls me Danni, I introduce myself as Danni, I post Danni on everyt'in’. When ‘ave you ever ‘eard me use Daniel? It doesn't fit my vibe at all!” Danni complained. Only Pops used Daniel and that was when Danni knew he was in trouble. Or maybe…

“Wait, Spicy. Were you tryin’ ta give me a nickname? Aw, t’at's so sweet! You were a little off t’o. Like, I get t'e attempt, I go by Danni so Daniel is like a funny little reversal, but ‘oney, we gotta go in a different direction.” Danni flashed Diana a thumbs up as she turned down his offer. Her loss really. “You know, you gotta give me one t'at really sits well wit’ a major part of me, ya know? A defining feature. And please, please stop gettin’ ‘it. Dee's gunna kill me if ya lose- OMFG LEAH!”

Danni watched the knife sink into Leah, Leah's health plummet, and her eventual respawn trigger. He could already feel it. Months without running water. Product drying out. Acne flair ups from excessive junk food binges.

“Okay, new rule, new ru- Oye!” Danni ducked under a face full of fire where a cultist took advantage of his distraction. Danni conjured two fist fulls of his own. “I. Am. Talking.” Danni snapped, spiking both handfuls of fire into the cultists chest and sticking his tongue out as the copycat collapsed. “I do it better. Anyways, as I was saying, new rule: No more dyin' please. If Diana dies, Spicy is goin’ ta be upsetti spaghetti. If Leah dies, Princess is gunna be real sad and Beanie is gunna go on a war path and I don't know if I'll be safe from it. If Spicy dies, Dee is gunna murder me and t'en come find my ghost and cry about how sad ‘e is ‘is boyfriend died. If Mads dies, I'mma cry for months and I'm an ugly crier so please, let's just not get stabbed or burned anymore.”

Clarissa halted halfway to the Archbishop. A frown and a sigh escaped as the bells rang. She’d spent too much time chatting with Nathanael and she missed her chance. Still, she permitted herself a moment to bask in the tolling of the bells. Hearing them was always a comfort, like a brief moment of sunshine on days the cold seeped wet and bitter deep into the bones. The sound drew her attention skywards. Her frown turned into a small smile, personal and warm. As a child, she always imagined the voice of the Goddess whispering in the bells of her church. It was a comforting belief and despite having put that away as a childish fantasy, the security and relief it provided still kept back in. Now, she heard it as the soul of the church, an extension of everything it stood to offer those who needed it most, a moment of respite in the chaos and confusion of the everyday.

She only lingered a moment though. The blond Professor shouting through the courtyard gave them their directions. Clarissa took a moment to consult the paper the Professor had left available for them and she barely resisted rolling her eyes. A significant portion of the future leaders of Fodlan were neatly crammed into one Unit. Whoever placed them together certainly wasn’t playing a subtle game; although, Clarissa agreed - the connections and bonds they forged here could only help raise Fodlan to greater heights. She just didn’t like being slammed together like dolls in the hands of a five year old. She spied Jorah heading into the correct classroom and briskly followed.

Clarissa listened to Lysander with rapt attention. She wasn’t off the mark. Lysander did want them to break tradition and connect more closely than they had in previous years. The solemnity he opened class with struck her and she could help mulling over what he meant. This impending discord and instability he believed they would face… Fodlan faced concerns at every corner, from the plots of vengeance and power grabs within the political landscape of every nation to plague or famine when the weather turned against them. What storm clouds had the Church seen darkening the horizon that they felt the need to point them out so vaguely? Still, she strongly agreed on one point: the time for tradition was over. As they entered a new era, they would have to adapt, grow, and shed the trappings of yesterday for the sake of the future. And if the Church believed something devastating was coming, then she would stand with their judgment.

Though, she wondered why the Archbishop felt the need to organize this Unit personally. If fostering unity between the nation was the Professor’s goal, it made sense to put anyone who would have even the slightest impact on national policy in the same Unit. Why did the Archbishop feel it necessary to involve himself in an easy task? The question bothered her but she’d put it aside for now. She’d ask Professor Roland after class.

The other professors proved an interesting collection. While she didn’t get much other than an obvious distaste for being here from Professor Malathice, she certainly agreed with his sentiments aboutProcessor Michail. Boisterous and sophomoric, she would prefer to impale herself on her own sword than have to deal with a second Jorah. She loved him to death, but he was a handful. Having another, who was in charge of her education and activities for the next year, already threatened a vengeful headache and a worse mood.

And when Jorah jumped onto the bench, she knew this was going to be a long year. It took everything in her not to slug him in the leg, but that would turn this into an even worse spectacle so she instead just seethed. He’d get the message, not that he'd care, but the second this was over, she was going to give him the talking to of his life. She sighed and stood, smoothing her skirt to collect her thoughts after Jorah’s circus act.

“Clarissa von Edmund, heiress to the Margravate of Edmund of the Leicester Alliance. I enjoy horseback riding, sailing, scripture reading, and engaging conversation over evening tea, but I loathe liars and the indecisive. Whatever distressed our Professor, the Goddess has put us all here for a reason. I am honored to have the opportunity to grow into those expectations with all of you and look forward to what greatness we can all achieve in the future.” Clarissa bowed her head and curtsied as she finished, settling back into her seat and subtly kicking Jorah in the shin for looking like the cat that got the cream.

Clarissa commended herself for her restraint; the light in Jorah’s eyes as he realized Oskar was in attendance spelled trouble for the foreseeable future and made her want to introduce her face to the nearest solid object. Repeatedly. It would probably hurt less than the migraine she’d have by the end of the night and that was only if Joran and his accomplice were on best behavior. Goddess and Saints protect them. She would need all the help she could get.

“Authority isn’t a tool you typically deem necessary to make others accommodate your whimsies. You’d have tried to arrange this with or without it. And while I don’t think I appreciate the forum, I can’t find fault in the logic even if your maturity stayed stunted at 13.” Clarrisa sighed with a shake of her head. And of course, Jorah’s cavalier attitude won him the distaste of his peers within moments. Nathanael Gloucester was certainly making his position amongst the students very clear. Clarissa wondered if he planned to ostracize himself from the rest of the Deer so quickly. It was no secret Jorah and Oskar were partners in crime, that Jorah and Clarissa were practically siblings, and that Clarissa sympathized with the remnants of House Ordelia - Clarissa wouldn’t be accused of hiding her opinions on anything. Honesty was more important than the veiled politics of the older generation, and she wasn’t about to allow whatever that display from Nathanael was to disrupt the class any further. She came here to learn and the petty squabbles of their nation was not about to hinder her in her studies!

However… She scanned the room and her eyes stopped on the younger of the Daphnels in the room. Their rise to the Roundtable in the wake of House Ordelia’s collapse at the time made her dislike them immensely. Vultures, far too quick to feed on the carrion of a ruined House for her liking, but she grew out of that mindset. The Roundtable needed five Houses sitting on it for its precarious balance and leaving a void out of the sake of sympathy would have put the entire country in danger. Her opinion on the intensity of the punishment was another matter altogether, but with rumors scattering through the Alliance that Reiner may find himself in contest for the seat, it may behoove her interests to determine if he could really win it. House Edmund was already invested in the new Barony but if she could provide some direct assistance… Well, another thing to explore later. The consequences of that may prove the effort too costly.

Still, she needed a moment to collect herself. The sting of Jorah’s selection hadn’t soothed and she needed a moment away from the classroom to regain her composure over the situation. She could still feel the pressure in her chest and the irritation at the Professor for such a foolish choice, but she knew it would go poorly demanding immediately it be changed. So, it was time to deal with issue number one.

“Please don’t go overboard with whatever mischief you’re planning tonight Jorah, and maybe run it by the Professor so we aren’t in poor standing on night one. I’d like the other Houses to believe we have some decorum in the Deer. Though, I know you can only keep that facade up for so long so I won’t hold it against you after the first night.” Clarissa teased, patting him on the arm as a farewell and crossed the classroom.

“Nathanael, would you join me for a walk around the grounds? I haven't quite had the pleasure of exploring all of it and I haven’t had an opportunity to speak with you since last roundtable season. Plus, I have some concerns you are uniquely suited to assuage and would truly appreciate your assistance settling my mind.” Clarissa asked with a stiff edge to her smile.

Crossing through the storied gates of Garreg Mach found her equal parts awed and homesick, the surge of adoration the hallowed grounds elicited undercut with a bittersweet tang. It was difficult to say why; she’d hand picked the officials handling her current obligations and she’d promised letters home regularly. The journey wasn’t particularly hard on her either. Between her familiarity traveling and Jorah’s reassuring, but equally provocative, companionship, she found no issues nor did they encounter anything unsettling. Clarissa shook her head and took a steadying breath when it hit her.

She couldn’t smell the sea.

The mountain air was crisp and refreshing, but the lack of the salt sweet scent that pervaded home left her missing it dearly. It was a constant in her life, even in Diedru, and it almost felt like she was missing something. Clarissa laughed at herself. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine the air of all things would make her homesick.

Thoughts of home quickly disappeared as her excitement consumed anything else, and walking the halls of the monastery only served to fortify it even further. The air of serenity pervading every nook and cranny and she basked in it. A content smile spread across her face. She basked beneath the watchful eyes of the saints, in the presence of the Goddess that echoed in every footstep and laugh, and a sense of rightness settled on her shoulders. This was where she was meant to be, exactly as the Goddess wanted it. The smile wouldn’t leave her fave knowing the bishop was right, and she beamed at the end of the Archbishop’s speech. The Goddess truly did bless every one of them.

The classroom was a more familiar affair and he listened to their Professor eagerly. She appreciated Professor Kalonic’s direct approach and brisk handling of affairs. Clarissa had little patience for people who circled around conversations and drew them out simply for the sake of obfuscation. Especially when they repeated themself. The idea of mixing the houses together certainly piqued her curiosity and she found herself looking forward to the opportunity to meet the others they would be in class with. An excellent opportunity to grow, network, and get a glimpse of matters in the other nations that an outsider's view simply didn’t provide. Just one more step towards her final goal.

Of course, what goes up must come down and indeed it did. Her good mood shattered as Jorah was announced the House Leader. They chose Jorah over her? The heir who didn’t want his position, who spent so much time running away from his responsibilities the Duke locked him in the capital, who couldn’t face anything serious without a joke and a dismissive laugh if he couldn’t blatantly ignore it? She’d spent years developing her leadership skills, establishing herself as a rising power, and putting her House and her people in the forefront of change and growth and they chose him? She cared for him as much as she cared for her own brother but even he’d admit he wasn’t suited―Jorah probably wouldn’t even want it anyways!―handling the responsibilities. She had half a mind to go after the Professor and demand she reconsider.

Clarissa deflated quickly though. Those thoughts were entirely inappropriate and rude. Jorah could step up to the responsibilities just fine; he was adaptable and knew when he needed to focus on a goal. She shouldn’t be surprised. She’d wanted the position terribly but as usual, she had that irritating little complication that always kept her one step behind. Of course the Church wouldn’t want someone with the Crest of the Beast leading their students. Willingly put the blood of a betrayer in leadership? What a joke. She should probably count herself lucky they even accepted her then. Clarissa gave a tiny shake of her head, trying to clear out the resentment and resignation that settled over her like a blanket, and focused instead on the challenge. The Goddess gave her the opportunity to prove herself and like every time before that, she would rise to the challenge before her. She made a mental note to spend some time in the cathedral before they turned in for the evening.

“With time for ourselves, it’d be best if we made formal introductions. I am Clarissa von Edmund, heiress to the Margravate of Edmund.” Clarissa offered their classmates a curtsied, her only adjustment to the uniform a longer skirt than normal. The mountains held a chill all year round and she was quick averse to the idea of being half frozen for the year. “It is an honor to work together with such a diverse group and I hope that, true to Alliance philosophy, we find a way to meld our differences together in a way to make all of us stronger.”
Danny Kingston

Location: Framework, BG3
Skills: Pyrokinesis

Danni looked around at the new chamber, face scrunching up as Mads explained more. “Wait, we ‘ave cthullu babies in our faces? T'at's so fuckin’ gross! ‘ow do we get it out?” Danni patted his face, trying to find a bump or anything that told him where it was. “I'm too fuckin’ cute ta be an Illthiad or whatever t'ey are. I am not stayin’ stuck I'm t'is stuff forever. Mads, can't you magic t'is stuff out? Game over, and we win in time ta beat up Arcade, save our friends, and get ‘ome in time for dinner!”

Of Course, nothing could be easy for them “Okay, Pod girl is friend, everyone else it's on sight. Got you, got you…” Danni trailed off as the Cultists came undone and Diana immediately went into attack mode. “Ya know, I feel like you'd like some fire arrows. You want me ta like, set t’e tip of your next arrow on fire? See t'at helps anything at all? As Danni was asking Diana, he whirled his hands together, collecting a ball of fire in them, and then hurled it straight into the other cultists chest.
Danny Kingston

Location: Framework, BG3
Skills: Pyrokinesis, Hotshot

“‘ey, if I don't try, we won't know.” Danni shrugged in response to Diana. “I wonder if t'ere is a screenshot function. Hey, Arcade! If you can ‘ear me, can you like, tell me ‘ow ta take a pic? I wanna memorize t'is for after we kick your butt! Hopefully Arcade wasn't a total stick in the mud.

“Okay, so we're in a giant flesh ship and now we're on t'e way ta a mad scientist lab wit’ eldritch brain ‘orros. Fantastic, fantastic.” Danni nodded as Mads explained the situation. “I am very, very down for Leah takin’ ‘its. No offense, but I don't wanna brain foot t’in’ touchin’ me. It can't be good for my skin.” Danni scooted up behind Leah and tried to see around her, very much wanting to see the weird brain thing.
Danny Kingston

Location: Framework, BG3
Skills: Pyrokinesis, Hotshot

“‘ey, Spicy came out alright! I got ‘im a new coat and everyt'in’!” Danni protested, annoyed that they were digging into ancient history. Percy was never in any danger. And Danni intended to drive that point home but the scene changed again. Danni rolled his eyes as they settled in.

“Arcade, t'is little scene shift is cool once but twice so quickly is… uninspired, ‘onestly.” Danni shook his head, crossing his arms. Though, upon looking around for the rest of his friends…

“Omg, y'all look so cool! Arcade, t’e character design, flawless. Almost makes up for t’e borin’ level change mechanic! I gotta take a pic, Dee would def wanna see Spicy like t'is. Let me just find…” Danni patted down his pockets but paused as he realized his hands were a little different. Red scales covered his fingers and ran up his arms, and he immediately lost interest in taking a picture of everyone and instead focused trying to look at all of himself. Scales were everywhere he patted. Danni was stunned.

“Guys, guys, guys. I’m gunna freak out ‘ere. All t'is work, all t'ese years of skin care and everything is fuckin’ covered by scales? T'is so fuckon’ cool!!! I'm a dragon!” Danni cheered as his turn rolled around. He skirted around the edge if the room and took arm, bracing himself as he let loose a cone of flames towards the imps, cheering again as one caught flame and collapsed. He pouted as His other attempts failed but hey, at least he got one!

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