bloonewb

[IC/OOC] God and Country - A low-fantasy renaissance NRP of religion and discovery

@Aristo
Is there still room in this RP for one more player?

Age of Nations [1815-1915 Nation RP]

@Lauder@Theodorable@Murtox@Treshan@Chairman Stein

I imagine this RP is dead?

Life in Space

"But I ramble," Jim said, snapping out of his daydreaming. "I'm sure you have better things to do than listen to an old man talk about a place you've never seen." He slowly started up another tune, an old earth piece. He began singing softly to the song as he played. "It's nine o'clock, on a Saturday, the regular crowd shuffles in, there's an old man sitting next to me, making love to his tonic and gin . . ."

A Long Walk (Aisling and Bloonewb)

The next day, Sura came back over the hill, leading the camel with him. He was smiling brightly, as he usually did, and walked up to the camp. "Sean!" he called. "I will not break a promise to a friend. Come with me, and bring your family. The city waits for none!"

Blood Runs Over Westeros: A Game of Thrones RP

"Please . . ." stuttered a man, or perhaps the right word is boy. The room was cold, what with it being in the cellar. And the North. He was not clothed, and couldn't draw some heat from huddling, for his arms were sloppily nailed to a wooden "X".

"Please what now?" asked another man, also not far from boyhood himself. He sat in an old chair, made by obviously incompetent hands, cleaning a mallet.

"Rimm . . ." whispered the first boy. His skin was beginning to peel from the cold winds. Thus taking away part of the fun.

"Yes, I'm Rimm. However, a lowlife like you would do well for themselves to address me as Lord Bolton of the Dreadfort," said Rimm, with false enthusiasm. "However, you have just earned yourself the privilege to call me whatever you wish. By my decree, that's the right of people nailed to that cross. Don't you feel lucky? It's a great honor, just ask the men before you."

"Water . . ." the man croaked.

"What about water?"

"Drink . . ."

"Yes, people drink water. Congratulations! And they told me bandits don't learn anything. Now, I do have to meet with my maester in the evening. Something about my mental state. Well, you know who your successor is now. So, can you please get to the point. Water, drink, what?" The other man slumped on the cross. He would get nowhere with this madman.

"Kill . . . me . . ." he rasped, for the last time.

"Oh, no no no," Rimm responded, jovially. "We haven't had enough time to get to know each other!" During this, he had picked up a blunt, rusty knife and began inspecting it. "I want to hear about everything in your life. Your heinous acts, your vile misdeeds, did you really kill an old man for the loose pennies in his pocket?" He then jammed the blade into the hanging man's lower abdomen. "See? Look at all the fun we're having. How is your heart? Let's find out!" He then began slowly cutting upwards, peeling into his skin, neatly removing it from his flesh and bone. The screams could be heard all throughout the Dreadfort, and perhaps in the lands beyond.

Soon, the grisly deed was done. The hanging man, thoroughly flayed, was limp on the cross. his organs spilled out of the crevasse in his chest and onto the floor in front of him.

"Udrick! Send in the next one!" Rimm shouted.

Blood Runs Over Westeros: A Game of Thrones RP

Game of Thrones light snack for thought:

Have you noticed how close Westeros is now to the Holy Roman Empire? An "empire" that is actually a coalition of barely controlled states, with products of incest at it's head and now the gap is closed even more with Tommen recognizing the church's power over the secular.

A Long Walk (Aisling and Bloonewb)

Jacquelyn couldn't sleep much that night. She was already regretting putting those coins in the charity well. She just couldn't stand the thought of her money going to someone else. Okay, maybe not her money per se, but come on, they didn't watch their pockets at all. They might as well have given it away.

Life in Space

"Yes," Jim answered, lazily plucking the strings. "Yes I am. Born and raised in old town 'Frisco. I haven't been back since I was a little sap, even younger than you. That was, twenty? Twenty-five years ago? Ah, twenty seven. I still remember home, though. It was cool in summer, warm in winter. Always sunny, except in early morn and late noon, when a light mist covered the streets . . ." His eyes sparkled and a slow grin formed on his face as he thought back to his home.

Summer Camp for Supernatural Teens

Tim gestured vaguely in the direction of his partner. "Try to keep up," he said, stepping into the cave. No, he most certainly was not trying to lose his partner and go off alone. Okay, maybe a little bit.

Life in Space

Jim finished his tune, then looked up. There was a very large woman there, with a pretty horrifying weapon in her hands. She seemed to be admiring either him or his guitar. Likely his guitar. Hell, if someone liked his playing, they can stay all they want. It would be discourteous to just chase them away. He decided to just smile and wave. "Hullo," he called out to the woman. "I don't get many listeners around this time. And how are you this fine day?"