Recent Statuses

1 yr ago
Current Ever had that moment were you've just lost a battle of wills with your dog and think to yourself, "maybe I should be the one sleeping on the floor"? I have. It's oddly liberating.
2 yrs ago
My Lit Lecturer used Matt Fraction's Hawkeye run to display the effect of narratology in class today. It's the first thing he's spoken about all term that I've actually read.
3 yrs ago
How good is the Punisher in Netflix's Daredevil series? "Just some guys who are about to walk into a diner for the last time." That line is so manly it could make a toddler sprout a beard.
3 yrs ago
The Justice League trailer is giving me mixed emotions. On the one hand, I desperately want to get hyped. On the other, Snyder and co have burnt me too many times in the past. I'm a conflicted mess.
3 yrs ago
What? The Lethal Weapon tv show isn't utter garbage at all, instead being an enjoyable watch. What the fuck is the world coming to?
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For all you know I'm handsome as hell. Let's keep it that way.

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@crouchingbacon Both of those ideas sound mint.

@BlackSam3091 I wanted to be criminal/vigilante-turned-forced to work for Order :/

If you're worried about our ideas overlapping, don't be. I'm sure we can develop them in such a way that both characters are their own unique individuals, with their own goals, strengths, weaknesses and voices.
I'm going to be out of the country and away from a reliable internet connection for the next fortnight, but I'll be keeping an eye on this for when I get back. Can't wait to see how it develops.
Tentatively interested. I have a few different character ideas that include a former criminal-turned-vigilante who thinks he's a ghost (but isn't), an immortal anarchist knight cursed to serve the British monarchy from now until the end of days, or a telepath/empath who abuses opium to help control their powers. I'd love to hear more about the setting to better tailor my prospective characters for it.
I'll be away for the next couple of days. Might have wi-fi, might not. Either way, have fun and don't do anything I wouldn't.

"Was that even up for debate?"

Falistia 34th, 0800


While Georgia spoke, the dwarf leant over and helped himself to a hunk of bread from the rations sack. It was stale, and rock hard, the effort of chewing it hurting his jaw. He splashed a dash of water from his canteen upon the crust, hoping to soften the loaf and make it more palatable. A faint hope. There’s little palatable about this situation. Stranded in a land not your own, a sea between you and your brothers, a pariah amongst your own clan, strange amongst strangers and hunted by a creature beyond your comprehension. He was almost starting to regret killing Stevros.


The risk had been calculated, and he still had no reason to believe that the death of his brother-in-law hadn’t delivered the outcome he had hoped for. To be sure he hadn’t expected to be shipped off to Haev when he volunteered his services to the Sacred Flame, but he had made allowances for such unexpected variables. Things back in the Ghenna Mountain ranges should still be progressing according to his plans with or without his presence. He had more pressing issues closer to hand that required his attention.

"I don't think we're alone, Sir Stravi. It could be spirits. It may be magic. One thing, I think, is certain: our presence is known."

Georgia’s eyes where on him, her gaze bright and intense. He was struck suddenly by just how young she was and wondered for a moment why he had requested her presence. At the time he had reasoned that the, while inexperienced and untampered, he imagined she had a wealth of potential, and wanted the chance to observe her in close quarters, perhaps try and mould her into the capable woman that he suspected she could become. After all, if he was to serve alongside these Flame recruits then he would rather they be as effective as possible, rather than scared and untried children. Right at that moment however he was uncomfortably suspicious that there might have been more than a vein of sentimentality in his decision to take Georgia along.

If only Gentle could see you know. How he’d laugh at his dread captain, playing at being the knight-in-shining armour for the frightened maiden. Stravi dismissed the thought as ridiculous. Georgia may or may not be a delicate maiden – the choice of who and what she was, was for her to decide – but he was most certainly not a noble knight. He was a mercenary and a kin slayer, a warrior and a pragmatist, and he had neither the time nor inclination to enact upon such noble ideals. Georgia was a soldier in the Order of the Sacred Flame now and would have to learn to harden herself to the realities of that situation, just as everyone else on their boat to Weirn had. He would protect her as he would a comrade, not as a father would a child. Anything less than that would be irresponsible.

“Then we are of a similar mind. Something watches us and doesn’t want to be seen in return. In my experience that can only mean that it means us some kind of ill.” His eyes flickered along the tree line, but he could see nothing untoward. He grunted, annoyed. He had never been anything more than a capable woodsman, but he suspected that even if had the skill of Whisperwood, the Blackshield’s veteran scout and ranger, he wouldn’t have been able to track whatever it was that was probing at their camp through the night.

“As soon as our companions are up, we will break camp and move on. We need more information before we try to tackle whatever it is out there, and I doubt we’ll find it sitting here.” Spirits and forest sprites weren’t his are of expertise, but his curiosity was piqued now, and he’d like to know just what it was that had visited them through the night.
@ZAVAZggg Lunearo did end his last speech with a maniacal laugh. Have Einarr politely but resolutely excuse himself, then board a ship out of Haev with all due haste. Whatever the sacred flame is peddling, it can't be worth spending time with a necro so unhinged he 'muahhahas' unironically.

Falistia 34th, 0600

The Mercenary Lord woke violently, starting at the early morning light creeping through the flaps of his flimsy canvas tent. It took him a moment to realise that he’d drawn his knife.

Bad dreams, he admonished himself, you’ve had one little nightmare and look, it’s reduced you to acting like a child, startled by shadows. He forced a dry chuckle through clenched teeth and sheathed his knife, though his hand moved more reluctantly than he would have liked.

The sun was still weak in the sky when he exited his tent, the shadows weighing heavy upon his party’s small camp. The desire to relight the campfire was strong in him, something, anything, to drive off the dark. Only his anger stayed his hand. He was Stravi Kuznetzov, Captain of the Blackshield Brothers dammit. He wasn’t going to let one bad night’s rest unman him.

But what if those were no mere dreams? The question came unbidden and unwelcome to his mind, along with it mostly-forgotten stories of wood spirits and Will-O-Wisps. What if the source of his dreams had been a visitation from some denizen of the dark? His neck prickled at the thought, his hackles rising. Wars he could fight. Monsters and demons? Those were new to him. That skulking desire to light the fire returned, but this time he banished it with an annoyed grunt. If there was something in those woods, he was damned if he was going to hide from it. No, he was going to find it. Fucking kill it too, if he had to.

He searched the trees for the next hour, purposely striding through the rough as if he had not a fear in the world, daring any and all to challenge him. Demons? Let them come. Despite his searching though he found no sign of an intruder. More the pity, because by the time he was finished looking he was sore, tired, and irritable, and could have done with nothing better than an unwilling target to swing his sword at.

By the time he made it back to the camp Georgia was already up and kneeling by the fire. He hadn’t had much occasion to speak to the young woman yet, and wasn’t quite in the mood now, but he forced himself to approach the fire and sit by her. Any commander worth his salt knew that they had to foster good relationships with the men and woman serving under them, and one of the simplest ways to do that was to talk to them.

He held his hands to the flames for a moment, enjoy the feeling as the warmth slowly seeped into his aching limbs. Age doesn’t come alone. The day has barely begun and you ache already.

“Morning to you, goody Chandler. Tell me, how did you sleep? I had some trouble myself. Can’t quite shake the feeling that we share this mountain with some unknown presence.” He fixed his eyes upon Georgia, watching for any flicker. He had considered keeping his misgiving to himself, but had quickly discarded that feeling as folly. Better to share his fears, and risk looking like a fool if they were naught but shadows and mist, than keep them to himself and risk ruin if there was some substance to his nightmares.
Did that thing just steal my Netflix password!?!
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