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4 yrs ago
Current Sliced Bread is the best thing since Betty White
5 yrs ago
I finally got around to watching A Silent Voice. Very nice to see some deaf culture representation in anime.
5 likes
5 yrs ago
My room is so empty! All of my furniture sans bed and wardrobe have been moved to the new place. Not long now :)
3 likes
5 yrs ago
Buzzbead... BuzzBEAD. WHICH GEMSTONE ARE YOU? TAKE THIS INSIGHTFUL QUESTIONNAIRE TO FIND OUT!
5 yrs ago
*Downing a bottle of cab merlot whilst filling out mental illness quizzes on buzzbeed* COMING OUT OF MY CAGE AND I'VE BEEN DOING JUST FINE
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Bio

"Just a white girl trying to enjoy the croutons in her salad."

Most Recent Posts

Ky Lien
Location | Rising Starborn Guildhall. Rembrandt
Interactions | D'Angelo Schultz @samreaper

The guild hall had come alive with the day’s festivities. It was as though half the town had made their way to Rembrandt's up and coming mage guild, giving the otherwise spacious hall a very tightly packed, busy feeling. Drinks poured freely at the bar, a cacophony of pints clanking together and inebriated jeers resonating from the occupied stools. The thumping of feet against the floorboards in rhythm with the band's music only enhanced the revelry, but could not compete with Jenna’s vocals. The guildmaster took center stage, seemingly enjoying herself as much as the audience was.

Ky wasn’t exactly sure how he came to be packed in with the moshing crowd of dancing drunkards. He had been coasting along the outskirts of the dance floor; only wanting to sneak a closer view of the band members who he had come to recognise over his brief few weeks with the guild. Yet it seems that a group of patrons, older women perhaps no older than thirty, had partaken of one too many glasses of wine, and simply swept the young boy up with them as they themselves made their way into the fray. Not one to shy away, Ky was content to engage in his own clumsily awkward attempt to dance. He was incredibly off beat. He resembled more of a deer slipping on ice than a person trying to move in rhythm. The patrons egged him on nonetheless. This was a space for enjoying oneself, and there was no wrong way to do that, surely.

Then, parting the sea of dancers like a ship moving through the waves, a larger gentleman had made his way to the middle of the dancefloor. He was a stranger to Ky, but the young boy paid him little mind. There were so many faces from town he had never seen before here. What was one more? The crowd welcomed him into their ranks, hooting and cheering as the song began to reach the final chorus. Ky had stopped dancing, looking past the stranger to a golden puff of vapor that seemed to be tailing him. The weather anomaly was most curious, and the young lad found himself drifting away from the crowd to go and investigate it.
How? The way boys have been investigating oddities since time immemorial.
He prodded his finger into the golden mass, wondering if the entity was perhaps more solid than it appeared.
This thing is so weird. Can clouds be gold?” Ky wondered aloud, to no one in particular. His prodding became a bit more invasive, squeezing the sides to see if he could grab on to it.

Kiba
Location | Rising Starborn Guildhall. Rembrandt
Interactions | Nolan Waltz @hatakekuro, Adelyn Amberfield @Lunarlord34

Kiba was sourly nursing some sort of dark ale, taking small sips while trying to hide the displeased scowl from the bar maiden. There had been a slight miscommunication when he had attempted to place his order. The young man had been in the mood for something a bit smoother; a nice clean spirit that would warm his chest and perhaps ease up his nerves. The guild hall was already a place he found quite discomforting on the best of days. The festivities had drawn such a crowd that he could almost feel his heart trying to crawl up through his throat and make a mad dash for his quarters. So when he attempted to gesture to a nice bottle of what he presumed was vodka (although it could have been gin), the young lass at the bar was already swamped with a plethora of other orders and mistook the path of his finger to an ale they had on tap. The thought of correcting the mistake never once occurred to him. He peered at the staff mixing up drinks from behind the bar, the large influx of customers definitely giving them a run for their money. He didn’t wish to add to their burdens. Thus, he continued to suck on the intense brew in the hopes he’d quickly acquire a taste for it.

There were a few somewhat familiar faces at the bar. Nolan and Adelyn looked like they were enjoying the party even less than he was. Though that was hardly surprising. He knew little of the newcomers, partly because he didn’t pry and also because the pair had already garnered a reputation for being standoffish. That was putting it kindly, in the case of Adelyn. Nolan’s indifference was preferable to Adelyn’s venom anyday. Having a penchant for keeping out of people’s way, Kiba had never personally faced Adelyn’s pointed barrage of insults. He had witnessed a fair few of her reads against those unfortunate enough to draw her ire. The very thought of it made him shudder.

The song had reached its end, prompting a round of applause from the crowd. Kiba raised his pint to Jenna. His own silent acknowledgment of a job well done. The music in this country was far different from what he was used to. Then again, he didn’t have much of a chance to enjoy the arts back in Isvan. He peered back towards Adelyn as she remarked on the performance. Clearly not her cup of tea. He took another painstaking sip from his ale, the only solace being that warm flush in his cheeks that only alcohol could bring. That same sensation came with a sudden rise in bravado, prompting a barely audible chuckle at the viper’s commentary.
Hmph.” Kiba couldn’t help but compare her mannerisms and speech to that of the nobles of his homeland. She could definitely give them a run for their money with those pointed glares and upturned nose. A potential noble and some sort of holy man. Rising Starborn seemed to be attracting all kinds of intriguing sorts.




Meredith Clagnan

Wolven Pyre Greenhouse | Silverbranch Glade
Interacting with: | Manami Fuyu @Lunarlord34

Meredith delighted in Manami’s eagerness to hear more of her culture and traditions. An inquisitive soul was truly a rare find nowadays; especially in such a young lady. Young comparatively, anyway. The assistant witches finished bottling up the calming draft, pushing a cork to seal the shimmering concoction before bringing it before the older woman.
Very good ladies. I dare say we should make haste and bring this potion to Talos.” She fastened the vial to her belt, drawing her olive green traveling cloak over her shoulders and fixing her satchel of various herbs and reagents to her hip. She reached for a few spare flasks, just in case she came across the sorely missed treant sap on their way to the battle, when a loud crash and bang from downstairs startled her to attention. Could it have come from the guild hall? No, it was too close. They were quite a considerable distance up in the canopy greenhouse. Then realization hit her.
Karla!” She turned to the two witches, offering a curt nod. They responded in kind, rushing past Manami and heading down the stairs towards the commotion. “We must make sure the others are safe. From what? God knows. Let’s go.”

Meredith took the steps two at a time, surprisingly spritely for her old age. She clutched at the moth brooch securing her cloak, letting it trail behind her as the door to Priscilla’s room came into view. Standing before it, there was no mistaking this was where the disturbance had come from. A palpable malignance wafted from the room, one that was unmistakable to Meredith in its nature. A witch’s curse.

The two accompanying witches entered first, their hands at the ready to conjure any defensive spells should the need arise. Meredith felt a shiver down her spine as she entered the room. She looked around in disbelief. Priscilla’s quarters were almost unrecognizable, despite no physical difference aside from the gaping hole across the room. The sensation was, regrettably, familiar to her; a witch’s curse. Curses had a way of afflicting the physical spaces they were cast in, an eerie feeling of disjointment that sapped one of all positive emotions. She approached the hole blasted through the side of the great hollow, lamenting the damage of their home for a brief moment before a figure caught their eyes far below in the glade. A young man that she almost instantly recognised as Bullet. Was he responsible for this damage? He didn’t look well at all. Another figure a few meters in front of him was crumpled in a small pile, though unmistakingly female.

Karla, she’s hurt. We have to get down the-” Meredith stopped in her tracks, watching as Karla’s lithe figure began to lift from the earth. Her torso raised first, limbs dangling as though an invisible claw had just plucked her from the soil. Soon her arms and legs followed suit, rigidly straightening themselves up as though the young lady were a string drawn puppet rather than a living being. Standing at her full posture, Meredith could clearly see the physical deformities that her curse had inflicted upon her.

Panic gripped her and her gaze shifted back to Bullet, lying helpless before Karla. Sure enough, the witch lunged forward and made a charge for the unconscious man with sickeningly sharp claws at the ready.
Stop her! Quick! Meredith ordered, one of her witches leaping into the fray from the tree, a conjured magic circle beneath her slowing her descent enough to land safely. The other grabbed onto Meredith and leapt alongside her, helping the older woman down to the soil. The pair rushed forward to protect Bullet, arms outspread as ephemeral chains burst forth from their sleeves, linking them to each other. Stepping between each other, weaving their bonds over and under each other in an intricate dance of quick steps to create a makeshift net that quickly found itself wrapped around Karla. The two witches reeled their magical chains back, pulling them taut and keeping the rampaging witch in place.

Meredith stepped forward, unfastening the calming draught from her satchel. She stared down at it, momentarily thinking of Talos and their allies caught afield. If she used the draught here, there was no telling what could happen to Karla’s familiar. A blood curdling screech brought her attention back to Karla, fighting against her restraints. She could see her two companions struggling to keep hold of the binding spell.
At that moment she knew there was no other option.
Karla had to be stopped here and now.

Meredith moved forward a few more paces, reeling her arm back in preparation to pitch the vial at the rampaging witch. Her aim was poised to hit her mark, if not for the sudden tightening of what she assumed was some sort of barbed rope around her ankle. She winced in pain, looking down to find her leg ensnared in a thorny vine that had sprouted from the ground. The realization spread across her face as a look of pure panic.
Plant magic was a specialty of Karla’s.

Watch the ground!” Meredith called to the other two, but it was too late. Their bindings faltered as both witches found themselves ensnared in a thick bramble of thorns. Karla burst free of the chains, her form twisting into the sky atop an ascending thicket of enlarged plantlife. The vines that had ensnared the three of them were connected to the main plant, lifting them from the ground and letting them dangle like baubles as Karla cackled maniacally.

The calming draught slipped from Meredith’s grasp, landing on the soft earth below and rolling a few feet away. She tried to spin around to find Manami. As far as she was aware, the young lady hadn’t descended with them and was still free to move about. Despite her efforts, her position was too inconvenient to spend much time looking for her.
Get help, Manami!” She called out, hoping that the commotion would have drawn the attention of any stragglers at the Guild hall. She prayed that not everyone had departed for the battle.

Henri Baptiste

Keeper’s Crossroads | Silverbranch Glade
Interacting with: Regan Hadou @CitrusArms and Shiro

Hagar watched Shiro approach him with a bemused smirk, his arms folded over his chest. He was almost a little too cocky, which didn’t bode well with Henri. Yet it seemed as though Shiro was winding up for something big, so he’d do what he had to to make an opening for her. He drew a magic circle in the air with his spare hand, pressing it into the dampened soil beneath him with a quick whistle. The circle made a noise reminiscent of a single drop of water falling into a vast ocean, sending ripples across the watery surface of the arena. Henry watched the ripples encircle his position, a large dorsal fin emerging for a brief moment before disappearing back beneath the surface and silently making his way towards Hagar.
Now all he needed to do was deal with these bindings.

Focussing his power into his spare arm, a mass of three watery tentacles encased themselves around the limb; twisting around each other to create a singular appendage that was as thick as Henri’s torso. He whips his arm around, twisting the rest of his body to add to the momentum. The tentacle mass crashes into the two swords that were binding the left side of his body, the sheer weight behind the attack enough to disrupt their bonds and free him. He looked over to Hagar who was busy deflecting Shiro’s blows, almost delighting in her enfeebled state. Henri made note of the two swords from his previous spell that were still channeling their bindings onto his companion before letting himself slip into the soil as though he were diving beneath the waves.

Hagar chuckled to himself, directing his dancing blades to parry Shiro’s attacks with nonchalant hand gestures. He only needed a single hand to direct them, whilst the other conjured a magic circle at his side.
Step off, love. I don’t need some annoying brat in me face.” said Hagar, twisting the magic circle anti-clockwise by about a hundred and eighty degrees. The blades that were linked to Shiro’s bound limbs lit up, following the motion of the circle. Shiro would find herself being dragged away from Hagar by the bindings. Hagar had aimed her towards the location he remembered Henri being, only to find that she had just been shoved to the center of the arena; where she stood alone.

Hah! You’re mate ditch you, eh?” Laughed Hagar, failing to hide the dumbfounded look on his face. Yet before he could wonder where the larger man had escaped to, a sudden tremor at his feet brought his attention to the ground. Just as Hagar looked down to investigate, Henri burst forth from the depths, blanketed in a churning current of battering water.
Abyssal Torpedo!” Henri landed a devastating uppercut against Hagar’s chin, the additional force behind the attack enough to send the brute flying. The swords that comprised the arena shifted to ensure they did not harm him.

At the same time, a similar ripple of the currents appeared near Shiro; the massive head of a great white shark constructed entirely of water launching up from the ground and into the wall of swords. The shark’s size was so great it would have pushed Shiro to the side slightly to make room for it’s sudden entrance. It’s gargantuan jaw clasped down around a large portion of the arena, shattering a myriad of swords; including the two that kept Shiro’s limbs bound. Then as quickly as it had appeared, the shark disappeared beneath the depths.
The gaping hole in the sword arena was a parting gift.

The battle between Talos and Regan raged on, the sword women's graceful movements and strikes proving too much for a beast, even one as intelligent as he was, to keep up with. On top of that, it would seem as though his master’s concentration was waning. Karla was being kept from properly channeling the enchantment that had morphed Talos into the beast he was now, and the power that sustained him was lacking compared to before. The serpent’s tail hissed a hasty command, and the beast looked to take on a more defensive stance.
Yet Regan had already disappeared from view. Talos was able to quickly identify that she had leaped above them, but not before that sword came driving down into the skull of the boa constrictor tail. Pinned down by Regan’s strike, Talos made every attempt to claw himself away, howling in pain as the animated appendage fell silent. Though it would seem the damage wasn’t as devastating as one might think. The great wolf seemed to be able to easily release himself from the grip of the sword, turning to stare at what he assumed was a dismembered serpent's head.

Though when Regan’s blade struck the serpent’s head, she would find it to be far more hollow than one would intend. Then the head began to heat up rapidly, little patches of flame melting away what was now obviously a molted snakeskin. The snakeskin grew hotter and hotter, large chunks of it beginning to burst into flame before the entire thing erupted in a large explosion. Talos leapt away, a familiar hissing from behind him catching the wolf’s attention. Slowly, a pink, soft fleshed serpent writhed it’s way from behind the wolf. Left in it’s vulnerable state, the serpent seemed content to remove itself from the battle, hiding behind the great wolf as it began snarling and snapping at Regan once more.
My Discord has been hacked so if you get random messages from me please ignore them and delete me

Mentions | Dune @Bartimaeus
Location | Haven Academy, Entrance Quadrangle


Heather sat among a small circle of her peers from Sanctum in the quadrangle of Haven academy. She’d struggle to call them friends as none of them were particularly friendly towards her. They viewed her as some charity case, needing to be plucked from the bowels of mediocrity by their graces. Still, it was better than being perceived as some sort of weird loner. The girls had insisted on meeting early to grab some coffees to go before heading up the laborious stairway, now perched to observe the flood of prospective students. They eagerly exchanged gossip as a few persons of intrigue passed through the gates.

“Is that the Al Mond heiress?” One girl said, her cheeks flushed with bewilderment. “Do you think I should ask for an autograph?”

“Desperation isn’t a good look for you, Olive.” Another giggled, the group chiming in to offer their own equally vague and uninteresting opinions on the matter. They made little effort to include Heather in their conversations. It would seem they were just as content to keep her on the periphery of the social circle as she was to remain there.

Don’t make waves, Heather. Those were the last words she heard from her Aunt Camelia that morning as she departed. They had certainly dampened her spirit somewhat. Her aunt was never one to shy away from praise or offer support, but she had made her disapproval of Heather’s ambition to attend Shade apparent ever since she expressed an interest in the entrance exam.

“Hey Heather, look over there.” Gwyn, the ringleader, pulled Heather from her train of thought, drawing her attention to a silver haired faunus who they were all too familiar with. Silme. He’d garnered quite a reputation for his violent outbursts and callous attitude.
“You know,” Another girl began, sneering sidelong at Heather whilst talking to her friend beside her in a whisper loud enough for the group to hear. “I thought allowing her admission was just the Headmaster being generous, but if they’re letting him attend then clearly whoever’s in charge has a screw loose.”
“Do you think the school has some sort of benefits program for troubled youths? Maybe they’re trying to rake in the Lien.”

Heather dug her nails into her palms, staring down at the grass whilst the gaggle of hens cackled away.
Don’t make waves. Don’t make waves. She repeated the words again and again, bringing herself to her feet with as much poise and dignity as she could manage in the face of their jabs.
If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to take a walk.” Heather snapped, staring daggers at the girls. They took little notice of her departure, their attention drawn to another student. She practically stormed off from them, reassuring herself with the same mantra that had gotten her through Sanctum.

I will not let that woman define me. I’m here to become a Huntress and that’s what I’ll do. No two ways about it. The affirmations failed to invigorate her as they normally would. No amount of manifesting positivity could hide just how nervous she was. She found herself leaning against a tree in the courtyard, slumping down into a seated position with a forlorn sigh.

I’ll be better off if I never have to speak to those nasty, vapid cretin’s again.” She cursed aloud, turning her head to the side to notice that the tree in question was already being occupied by another girl.
Startled to her feet, Heather’s cheeks went beet red. No doubt the gray haired girl had heard her and the idea of airing her business to a complete stranger by accident was mortifying. She’d need to think fast.
Wh-what I mean to say is, uh, what a lovely day we’re having isn’t it? Truly splendid.Truly splendid. Who talks like that anymore? Today was her chance to redefine herself among people who had no idea who she was. She’d hoped to have a bit more class than to out herself as a nervous wreck and a dweeb to the first stranger she met.
Priscilla Duran

Harvest Festival | Magnolia
Interacting with: Jamie Beltras @MarshiestMallow | Jack Goran @Zarkun


Among the crowd of adoring fans Priscilla observes the spectacle fight with more than a mild sense of awe and wonder. She’d heard many tales of the strength of Phoenix Wing’s mages but to see it in person was something else entirely. Her eyes dart from one combatant to the next, unsure where best to hold her gaze to take in all of the action. Stalwart steel clashes against elusive shadow magics, their respective wielders deftly parrying each other's blows. The other side of the ring sports an ardent display of fire and ash that piques the flame witch’s curiosity somewhat.
Priscilla outstretches a hand to catch a falling ember from the clash. Both the flames and the ashes held an energy unknown to her. She rubs the soot between her fingers.
Those two,” She begins, addressing Jamie without averting her eyes from the combatants. “they are no ordinary elementalists, correct?” She didn’t expect much of an answer, for she knew better than most how essential it is to safeguard one’s secrets - especially where peculiar magics were concerned.
The mages continue to clash and the crowd grows more and more uproarious at their showcase of skills.
Priscilla’s lips curl into a smile.
Peculiar magics indeed.

Meredith Clagnan

Wolven Pyre Greenhouse | Silverbranch Glade
Interacting with: | Manami Fuyu @Lunarlord34


That’s it, love, you’re doing great.” Meredith found Manami’s contribution to the ritual to be more than stellar; even if the young lady was unsure of its purpose. The two witches lift their veils and gaze into the cauldron. The mixture had bubbled away, absorbing the blessings of all those present and becoming something more than the sum of its parts. A calming draft that would see a startled familiar to rest.

Meredith sat herself down on a stool while her companions prepared the final touches, offering a seat to Manami.
Our practices can be a little more delicate than the magic you’re used to, but they’re rooted in traditions that span back thousands of years. We draw inspiration from the old ways not because it is necessarily more effective than modern magic, but out of respect for our ancestors and the struggles they endured to freely practice their craft.” Meredith wasn’t quite sure how a history lesson would go down with Manami, but far be it for her to pass up the opportunity to enlighten someone from a different walk of life than her own.

Henri Baptiste

Keeper’s Crossroads | Silverbranch Glade
Interacting with: Regan Hadou @CitrusArms and Shiro


Shiro’s confidence in the heat of battle brought on a low chuckle from the older man. Hopefully she wasn’t just all talk. Her sudden disappearance caught both Henri and Hagar off guard, but the latter was sent reeling by the sudden headbut. He spat out a curse, leveraging himself against Shiro’s successive blows by digging his back foot into the dampened soil. His dancing blades struck against her hardened skin to little avail, prompting a grunt of frustration from the brute.

Meanwhile Henri was already in motion, enveloping his arms in their watery appendages once again. Two directed blasts of water saw the dancing blades struck from the air as they landed in a muddy pile. Henri plunges his fists into the soil once again, the tentacles emerging beneath Hagar’s feat and enveloping themselves around his legs and then up his waist. Henri pushes clenched palms even further into the earth, corresponding with Hagar beginning to be dragged into the earth. He figured Shiro would appreciate a stationary punching bag.
Though it would seem Hagar had other plans.

You slippery brat.” He snarled, his hands suddenly reaching out to clasp the side of Shiro’s head. “Keep still a while, would ya?” Hagar heaves Shiro a few feet from the ground whilst a few of the blades surrounding them turn to point towards her.
Sword Magic: Four Point Binding” Four beams of ethereal energy burst forth in an attempt to pierce Shiro’s limbs. Rather than slicing or dealing damage, they would instead lock onto whatever they struck in an attempt to keep it bound in place.
"Look out!" Henri bolts forward in a desperate attempt to bowl down Hagar to aid in Shiro escaping the spell, but as a result finds himself taking two of the swords in his left arm and leg. A sudden numbness overcomes his left side, his limbs no longer responding to his commands as they are suspended from him.

Hagar looks to capitalize on his partially trapped opponent, raising his arms into the air before thrusting them forward.
Sword Magic: Vorpal Blade” A few more of the swords comprising the arena release sudden flashes of light that bend and twist at sharp angles to slice at the pair from all manner of directions. A couple slashes release Hagar from Henri’s tentacles. Henri uses his right arm to deflect as many of the slashes as he can, but his left side sustains a few gashes in the process. He redirects his tentacle to strike at one of the swords binding him. It’s grip falters slightly at the impact, but not quite enough to release him.



Talos snapped and swiped at Regan as she danced circles around the beast, taking cursory swipes while taking care to avoid the serpent’s head. The serpent lays low, it’s eyes fiercely keeping track of the woman's movements. Talos whimpers at Regan’s slices, but they are of little effect mostly in part to her purposely holding back. The serpent hisses towards it’s wolf head, prompting a low growl as though the two are communicating with one another. When Regan stops her assault Talos leaps forward to take another swipe at her, though this time there is a strange hesitation to the attack as though the beast is attempting to feint her. Sure enough the attack purposefully misses and Talos bows low, revealing the open jaws of the great serpent lashing forward towards Regan once again.

At this point the beast has revealed itself to be of a higher intelligence than the average monster, it’s wolf head bowed low whilst magic gathers inside it’s throat. The serpent continues to reel itself back and lash out in a series of bites against Regan, but immediately pulls away when the crack of electricity fills the air. Talos let’s out a howl that is accompanied by a crack of thunder, a beam of lightning bursting forth from his gullet directly at Regan.

Apologies for taking so long, it's been a week. Will most likely do a quick re-read and edit tomorrow morning, time allowing.


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