Recent Statuses

9 mos ago
Current "I'll face that wind by your side / Even take on that rain, I don't mind / Or give you space or give you time, If you need me to / But I'll be here for you / After the storm blows through"
10 mos ago
"I've never been the kind that you'd call lucky / Always stumbling around in circles / But I must have stumbled into something / Look at me / Am I really alone with you?"
1 like
1 yr ago
"Then the colors came, erased the black and white / And her whole world changed when she realized / She's a butterfly"
1 yr ago
"I don’t regret it / The time we had together / I won’t forget it / But we both ended up where we belong / I guess goodbye made us strong"



I'm Camlin. I'm twenty-something, and I live in the United States, specifically Arizona. I've been roleplaying on and off since I was thirteen years old. I do one-on-one roleplays almost exclusively, and my genre of choice is fantasy because I like a little magic in my life.

When I am not roleplaying, I can usually be found reading. My latest fave is the Throne of Glass series by Sarah J. Maas, though my all-time fave is and forever will be the Harry Potter series.

I work in a call center as a customer service representative, though I aspire to work in a more analytical field when I (eventually) finish my bachelor's degree in Computer Science.

And with that, I think I've hit the salient points. Thanks for stopping by!

P.S. My Discord ID is Camlin#2239. I have the app, so (if I'm available) I'll know right away if you message me, whereas I have to manually check for any communication sent via PM or forum. Therefore, Discord will be a reliably faster way of getting my attention. Just thougt you ought to know!

Most Recent Posts

Sorry Virani, I've already heard from a couple of people and I don't want to start too many RPs at once. I'll definitely let you know if that changes anytime soon, though! Thanks for your interest! :)
Bump! Open for business again ;)
You feel like a candle
in a hurricane
Just like a picture
with a broken frame
Alone and helpless,
like you've lost your fight
But you'll be all right,
you'll be all right


Life's like a novel
with the end ripped out
The edge of a canyon
with only one way down
Take what you're given
before it's gone
And start holdin' on,
keep holdin' on
Rascal Flatts, Stand
She remembers when
she first got her wings
And how she opened up
that day she learned to sing
Then the colors came
erased the black and white
And her whole world changed
when she realized

She's a butterfly, pretty as the crimson sky
Nothing's ever gonna bring her down
And everywhere she goes
Everybody knows
She's so glad to be alive
She's a butterfly

Like the purest light
in a darkened world
So much hope inside
such a lovely girl
You should see her fly
it's almost magical
It makes you want to cry
she's so beautiful

God bless the butterfly
Give her the strength to fly
Never let her wings touch the ground
Martina McBride, She's a Butterfly
Elyde caught a flicker of too-fast movement from the corner of her eye—a projectile?—and was out of her seat and taking a ready stance within a breath of time. Fortunately, this meant that the thin spray of ale from the flying tankard missed her; it instead sprayed foamy droplets across her recently vacated seat. Less fortunately, her supper companion was not as fast as she. He had barely closed his eyes and lifted his arms when the tankard crashed into their table. Though the tankard no longer flew, its contents continued the forward momentum in a small wave that soaked the poor man's face, chest, and lap. He belatedly shouted his surprise.

The crash and subsequent cry of alarm had everyone nearby going quiet and looking to see what had happened. A few people laughed, and even Elyde, annoyed though she was at the interruption, had to hide a small smile behind her hand. The man looked like a drenched cat, and as the shock wore off he began to look about as happy as one, too. His eyes locked onto the source of the spill and narrowed.

The boy—no, a young man—was busily righting his chair, having apparently fallen from it, but looked up and saw the damage his mishap had caused. Apparently, all he could manage in response was a weak, "Sorry?"

More chuckles came from those listening nearby, but the sodden Hunter's lips tightened into an angry line. Before he could let his temper speak for him, Elyde wordlessly fished her handkerchief from a pocket and held it out, one eyebrow raised. The man accepted it with a sigh and wiped his face and hands clean. A barmaid hurried forth with more cloths to clean up the mess.

Satisfied that she'd prevented a potential brawl, Elyde turned on the young man. She rested her hands on her hips and allowed a stern expression to cross her features. "Now, then." She spoke firmly, but without heat. "Have you any experience laundering clothes, or else coin to pay a laundress to get these stains out? Rolf here is leaving town in the morning, and neither of us have the time or inclination to clean up your mess." It was a fair and efficient solution, as she knew Rolf would let not this go with a mere word of apology. Indeed, she saw from her peripheral vision that Rolf nodded at her decision, the stiffness of his mouth and shoulders relaxing somewhat. Seeing that further entertainment was unlikely, the other patrons began returning to their own meals and conversation.

Only now did Elyde give the young man her full attention, and noticed with some surprise his pointed ears and angular features. The only indication of her surprise was a slow blink. A half-elf...interesting. Weren't elves supposed to be graceful?
With Mr. Lindhall out of the way, you can go into as much or as little detail as you want with the rest of Ellie's clothing purchases, and maybe start browsing other things too if you want. Then Lindhall and the boy (who's one of the new students btw) will show up, you'll be introduced, and the guided purchases can continue while the boy browses for clothes. Sound good?

I also want you to know that I'm trying to write my replies so that we only see into Ellie-Mai's head, for the time being. She's the only important character here right now, for all that I hope to make Lindhall memorable, and stories tend to read better when they only stick to the main characters' thoughts or the most important thoughts of others. So basically I'm trying to describe only what Ellie can see, hear, and perceive until someone else's thoughts are important enough to share. Are you okay with that approach? I should still be able to keep most of my posts nice and long, or at least medium-length.

The above note is in reference to this post.
The shopkeeper was smiling softly at his customer as she spun to see the robe. "A perfect fit indeed," he agreed, already picking out two more of the robes and belts. He gave her the price of the robes—a more than reasonable sum—to ensure they were her final choice. Then he led her to the racks of under-robes. Most boasted long, fitted sleeves, meant to peek out from under the more billowy sleeves of the outer robe. Though some were also fitted at the shoulders and collar, all were quite loose from the collarbone down. A tailor's mannequin was dressed to illustrate how a belt or sash tied about the middle could be used to give the loose clothing some shape. All of the necklines were very conservative, some round and others square, and still more had curious collars which buttoned up to a band around the neck. ((Google image search band collars or mandarin collars for clarification.))

The bell above the shop door indicated another customer had arrived. Lindhall turned and called out to the new arrival that he'd be along in just a moment. The customer, a boy or young man from the sound of his voice, called back for the shopkeeper to take his time.

Lindhall returned his attention to Ellie. "Will you be alright browsing on your own for a few minutes?" he asked politely. "The curtained areas there and there," he said, pointing, "are for changing should you wish to try any of these on. And if you finish here before I come back, the boots and gloves are in that corner, there." He pointed once more and waited to see if she needed anything else before attending to the newcomer.
Lindhall merely smiled at the girl's rapid list, his eyes crinkling at the corners once more. "Excellent," he proclaimed. "We have robes and such over this way. I don't carry much in the way of gloves or boots, just a few standard styles. But I have spells I can use to resize and recolor them as needed, for no extra charge. The robes, hat, and cloak will all be simple enough, of course. I recommend wool—Kinnealle is a far cry from Asnye, but it's in the mountains. It'll get right cold there, mark my words, and I've no idea when you'll learn warming charms. Ah, here we are!"

As he spoke, he led Ellie through the warren of objects for sale. The passed brightly-dyed pouches of suede and felt, clusters of staves and walking sticks, and a vast collection of candles—both large and small, plain and shaped, in every color and scent a person could wish for. Finally, they emerged into a somewhat more open section of the store against one wall. Here one could find hats, gloves, belts, scarves, sashes, cloaks, and robes. Especially robes. They came in wool, cotton, linen, suede, leather, silk, velvet, and more. Under-robes, over-robes, simple robes, robes with intricate embroidery, and even a few that appeared to be normal bathrobes.

The man went straight for a row of black robes, made of wool as he'd recommended, and held one of the garments out for her. "Would you care to try this one on for size? You can just pull it on over your dress. It can be worn over everyday clothes, or we have under-robes you can choose from. You see, regular robes open in front, so it's best to wear something underneath, even if you plan to wear it closed."

The garment offered to Ellie was plain, just as the uniform dictated. The fit was loose, the sleeves wide, and the front had no buttons, clasps, or laces. Apparently, it was meant to be tied closed with the belt of black wool that Lindhall also grabbed and held out to her.
She was met by the sound of a tinkling bell above the door and a comfortable warmth, radiating gently from every corner despite the lack of hearth and fire. Poignant scents wafted toward her with the warm air—a hint of smoke from burning white sage, a medley of dried herbs and flowers, and just a trace of dust.

The variety of items for sale was astonishing; though spacious, the front room was cramped with shelves and displays of arcane books, assorted crystals and stones, mysterious figurines and symbols, an unusual selection of jewelry, mirrors of all sizes, sticks of incense, and even more objects she couldn't yet see from this angle. The shopkeeper's counter was currently abandoned, but a shout of "One moment!" from the back alerted her to his presence.

There was an answering kraa and the flapping of wings, and a curious bird alighted atop a nearby shelf, peering at her with one of its bright red eyes. From its shape and size it seemed to be a raven, but its feathers were white as the snow that blanketed Asnye. Apparently approving of the customer, it croaked once more and flapped over to the jewelry, where it playfully pecked at a particularly shiny bauble.

"I see that, Master Frostwing," came a chiding voice. A man, presumably the shopkeeper, stepped out from the backroom, wiping his hands on his robe and raising an eyebrow at the bird. "I know where you keep your nest. I'll just restock whatever you pilfer, so don't bother."

The bird merely cocked its head at the man and resettled its wings.

The shopkeeper then turned his attention to his newest customer. His pale gray eyes were crinkled at the corners in amusement, and laugh lines creased his face. He appeared to be in his late fifties, wearing work robes of somber gray and navy. His hair, though still golden-brown in places, had gone mostly gray and wispy.

"Good morning, dear. What can I...ah. But of course. You'll be needing your equipment for Kinealle." He nodded knowingly and tapped his temple. "You're the right age for it, and it's September first today. I had two of you'n come in yesterday. I suppose I'll be getting a fourth within the hour. Come, then. The name's Reed Lindhall. What shall we start with, then?" He spoke quickly but clearly, those pale eyes of his piercing as he observed the girl.
© 2007-2017
BBCode Cheatsheet