bloonewb

Magic RP (Open to new players)

Was it Ardasa's mind, or did the room grow suddenly cold? Was the design of the palace always this sharp and foreboding? She shivered, coming to the horrifying realization. There were citizens living here that hated kobolds. There were citizens here that hated her, and her specifically. Worse still was the discovery of Ternoc's preferred method of suppressing those people. Exile was justifiable. Beheading as well. What they were doing in this city . . . she closed her eyes, trying not to let the fear take over her face. This practice must never return home with her.

Not even the prospect of a grand tour could cheer her up now. She passively followed, room to room, occasionally making a frankly unconvincing show of following along. "So, who's the statue there of?" she asked, pointing up to one of the numerous lining the walls. Had she already been told?

The Waves Hold Secrets

Name: Eveyon (Last Name Omitted For Religious Reasons)
Age: 19
Gender: Male

Appearance: The most immediate aspect of Eveyon's appearance is his hair. Or, rather, the lack of it. He keeps his head shaved bald, in accordance with the faith of his homeland. Under the glittering scalp, his skin is a middling brown, and his eyes a striking black. He stands at 170 centimeters in height, and is deathly thin from long periods of fasting. His face he keeps solemn, again one of the duties of the priesthood, and tries best he can to convey no emotion.
Personality and Backstory: Eveyon was the son of a priest, and thus was raised within a priest's coven. Within its walls, he learned of the holy books and tenets associated with the faith, in the hopes that should his father pass, he would take his place tending to the parish. He clung to the faith, it being the only thing he knew, and internalized its teachings till he knew them front to back in his sleep. He has worked hard from youth maintaining the pristine reputation of his parish, keeping the holy days as well as the grounds of his father's temple. On his nineteenth birthday, his father, as well as the other priests, tasked him to leave home on pilgrimage to spread the faith. Immediately, he set out to do so, hopping on the first ship he could find heading for uncharted waters.

Classification: Explorer (and possibly Chaplain)
Specialization: Lookout from the Crow's Nest

bow to the queen

Magic RP (Open to new players)

Ardasa frowned at the strange and unnecessary precautions being taken by her host. Perhaps the culture was different here, but when she wanted to go outside, she was accustomed to . . . just going outside. "Lead on, Majesty Ternoc," she said. "Though I wonder what all the fuss is about. Aren't you the great authority around here? Can't you go wherever you want?" A hint of fear touched her mind then, something she had tried not to think about since leaving Xigyll City behind. Here, though, in such a foreign world, who knows what dangers lurk beyond the limits of sight? "Are we that likely to be assassinated?"

Magic RP (Open to new players)

"Yeah . . ." Ardasa said, treating the grand prince to one of her smiles. "That would be fine enough." She looked over the map of Hekaga city, quickly making note of the major buildings, and hopped out of her chair. "We have many issues to go over, as you understand, Your Majesty," she said. "I would rather not have it all be done within these walls. The palace is magnificent and spacious, yes, but I have seen it now. This is a large city, old and storied, and I would like to be acquainted with it well." She looked up at Ternoc. Even while he sits, he is taller than as she stands. "So how about it? Care to show a girl around?"

Haven: Summer camp for Supernatural Teens

Once again, the strange red-haired girl charged up to Lukas, shouted a few demands into his face, and stormed off without pause. He sucked in a breath and slowly let it out. That was a bit rude. Still, he let the thought slip from his mind. Anger did him no good, especially anger directed against strangers.

"I'm Lukas," he said, waving a meek hand at Willow. It was understandable enough that she couldn't read his name. Most people couldn't. Well, not at home, at any rate. "Why don't you just write your name on a sheet of paper? It'll serve the purpose well enough, and there's no contest."

Ruins of God -- Dark Age Character RP (Barbarian setting)

Hey, is there still room in this? I'd like to join if there is.

The Redwatch

Hey, is there still room in this? I'd like to join if there is.

The Waves Hold Secrets

Hey, is there still room in this RP? I'd like to join if there is.

Haven: Summer camp for Supernatural Teens

Λ . . . ο . . . υ . . . slowly, the letters began to take shape under Lukas' finger-straining effort. Lukas had never actually done any carving in his life, and the reality of it was far more difficult than how it looked on TV. What's more, the wood proved an adversary mightier than the feeble pair of scissors was accustomed to dealing with, and already the very tips of the blade were beginning to bend. Still, he was making good time. Perhaps the placard would be finished in time for lunch after all.

A voice jolted him from his idle thinking, shattering his focus. His scissors, working down a letter, slip from the wood and cut across his arm. Lukas yelps and grabs where the blade landed. Slowly, he removes his hand and checks the palm. No blood. It hurts, but at least it won't make a mess either. He grimaced. It would have been nice to have his stone skin activate then. "This," he responds, holding his placard face up towards the source of the voice. "Λουκάς Μορ" displayed proudly across its length, the remaining half of the last name not having been done yet. "It's my name. What were you working on?"

Haven: Summer camp for Supernatural Teens

Lukas stretched and got up off the log. At the very least there was now something to do. He strode over to the dining hall, casually as he pleased, and snatched up one of the wooden placards. Perhaps he could put a nice carving on it. He looked around for a knife or similar whittling tool, and stopped in his tracks. Right. Stupid Lukas. No summer camp worth its dirt would give teens who couldn't even legally drive a bunch of big scary knives. Then, an idea came to him. Quietly, he took one of the scissors from the back. It wasn't that sharp, but it could probably make quick work of the wood. Armed with the idea, he sat down back against the wall and began to work.