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Recent Statuses

29 days ago
Current Passive aggressive? Who, me? No one messaged [i]me[/i], I just thought that might be a worthwhile message.
1 like
29 days ago
Public Service Announcement: Roleplay is a hobby about writing, but further about writing together. This means that communication is critical. Be sure to express yourself politely to new acquaintances
4 likes
1 mo ago
Public Service Announcement: When you DM someone for an RP, show interest beyond just a hello and an offer. Offer what interested you, and perhaps something to work with beyond just stating interest.
13 likes
3 mos ago
I should use the Elite: Dangerous autopilot to do more reading.
1 like
4 mos ago
Public Service Announcement: Please remember that this is a "give and take" hobby. We are here to write, read, and be read. All three parts are important. If you want to be read, then you should read.
18 likes

Bio

I'm a generally chill gomboblin that can be kinda particular. I grew up with plenty of electronics and video games, mostly with games like Final Fantasy, Zelda, and StarCraft. Lots of Nintendo. Dark Cloud is pretty sick. That's a lot of variety, and I do like to play a lot of different games. I like to blend magic and technology in my writing, bringing fantasy into space and sci-fi.

Magic in space is something that I find isn't done very much. Airships and spaceships could make for some cool centerpieces. Skies of Arcadia did a fantastic job of this. Perhaps that's not in space, exactly, but it's pretty close. Some of those ships may as well be space ships.

Most Recent Posts

I've not had trouble in the discords I'm in.
Yeah, that sounds like some cringe doings.
Again, nothing drastically different, just.. more, better details.



Oh, and a Baron NPC





Stella Lumite





”Oof, wrong immediately, huh?” Stella frowned softly to herself as she began reading. It was an immediately sad book. She gently ran her fingers over the egg as she read, subconsciously measuring it.

”Ooh, long break.” The girl hung for a moment on the name of the other woman mentioned. Ellanore’s sickly friend. December, ”you're going after her on new years..”

Another page. She gasped and held the egg a little closer, covering her mouth with the hand she'd been turning the book with. Was that.. blood? What had she done to herself? ”And then, two years later..”

Hesitantly, she turned to the last page, only to find herself confused, ”’32..? But, who wrote this page..?” and why?

Before she could ruminate, Mr. Osman appeared. Stella was so startled, she couldn't help her ”oh, sorry,” as she closed the diary.

She'd read enough. That wasn't Mr. Osman. She put both arms lightly around the egg, petting it gently as she studied the figure in the door. “You're not Mr. Osman. Are you. I'd say you were Marie, but that would make you very old. In this place for a long time. I suppose it's possible you're so long-lived, but,” Stella paused and looked around the room, “to have stayed here for so long.. why?”

"What.." Stella dreaded to even ask the question. She wanted nothing to do with whatever had driven Ellanore mad and made her friend so cold and distant. But.. it could hurt someone else, too, "what's in the woods?"


Stratya Durmand

Time:
25th, 10 am
Location: Edwards Estate
Attire: Officer’s Formal
Family Dirk + Crest
Interactions: Ariella @Tpartywithzombi
Mentions:

Hmm. Another, similarly pleasant, young lady. Must be the high-class upbringing. Of course, she’d only spoken to Lady Charlotte briefly, and only just met-

Ariella.

Stratya did a fairly good job of hiding the flash of recognition as it crossed her face. Only have a slightly sharp inhale of mild surprise, which she blended into a deep, slow breath.

Defaced the King’s painting, apparently. Somehow, the Captain had a hard time being upset. If it had been the Queen’s, she’d probably be actually a little upset, but the King? She’d seen enough glimpses of what that man was like to not care too much.

She’d just conveniently forget about that, for now.

“When I do make tha’ brread, I’ll be surre ta send ya an ‘ole loaf. But, if you’d like to get a taste before tha’, there’s tha’ choc’l-,” she stopped suddenly, canted her head briefly, letting out an “hoo.” She took a moment and shook her head, “choc’la’e foun’ain - sorry, I.. I saw i’, I used i’, I ate from i’, but only now tha’ I’m sayin’ i’ am I..” her body and head turned to look at the fountain again, “wooo, ‘choc’la’e foun’ain', ‘at’s lavish. If I don’t stop sayin’ it, it’ll stop soundin’ like words," Stratya slowly turned back to her new acquaintance, "every once in a while, i’s like I go back ta bein’ a wee lass from ‘t village. Like my eyes ‘ave gone back to what they were before an’ I see things like I would ‘ave then. Y’ken me meanin’?”

Having been about to take another sip, Stratya stopped and assessed herself; feeling a bit buzzed already, and the drink was only half gone, “‘is drink’s pret’y strong for t’ taste. Think I’ll change off i’ for t’ momen’.” Stratya caught the attention of a nearby servant as she set the cocktail glass down a short distance separate from herself, but still in front of her seat. She glanced at the place that had previously been an argument as the servant approached, “would you break out t’ mead I brough’? The Durmand mead, aye, aye. Let’s..” another short glance over, “let’s ‘ave a tastin’ wit’ everyone to set’le things down, shall we? Make a wee birt’day trea’ ou’ o’ it, ‘ere a’ t’ par’y.” If she could get tasting notes from some of the guests, or critiques, her brother would be over the moon.

The servant, having listened intently to decipher the Captain's accent, bustled off, and Stratya turned back to Ariella, leaning in to admire the other. “I love your hair, by t’ way,” the first part of the sentence was delivered with a deliberate pronunciation rooted in honesty, “like a campfire, i’ is, warm and invitin’. Have y’ been? Campin’.”
Stella Lumite





Stella gave a soft sigh as she found nothing obvious within the room. Gastly noted the egg quickly as they entered, and the bookish girl nodded about it but wanted to check out the whole room first. ”Huh. It's like being at home.” It was about as abandoned of people as she expected, but there wasn't anything in here to have made that noise. Did it leave the egg and, what, just left?

Then there were the pictures. Someone bothered to tear out all the depictions of.. someone. The mother died first? Tragically, perhaps. Who was the missing figure? Her finger brushed the fur on the one picture frame, “what, a Pokèmon tore the pictures..? It was probably the Pokèmon that was torn out, anyway. Don’t you think?” The girl looked back at Gastly.

“Gas?”

”Hm.” She nodded softly, considering possibilities, then shook her head. Not enough information. She carefully gathered the egg and diary before having a seat on the couch to go through the diary.

She sat with the egg in her lap, her arms around it as she held the diary in front of her. She brushed her fingers over it for a moment, ”it's just a book now, isn't it..” another moment, and she opened the diary.



“Wh- really? Yea-hea!” Trinity played a short triumphant fanfare with the synth and lyre and struck a quick pose with her fist up, then followed along after Jenna.

As Jenna went quickly into her office, Trinity called up a trumpet and played something ceremonious-sounding. Where to put the mark? Trinity considered the question for a moment before pointing to a spot on her clavicle, just over her chest, “I'll have to show it sometimes, right? This spot should be prevalent enough.”

She closed her eyes and pictured.. her hair color. A gentle lavender. That way, she didn't have to worry about it clashing with her clothes.

She peeked down at it after it was given, “cool! So, I..” the music lulled momentarily, a mute appeared on the trumpet, her eyes came back to Jenna and she touched her finger to her own cheek, “guess I'll look at the job board, unless you've got something special for me? Oh," the intensity grew and built anticipation, the mute came off gradually, she caught her lyre as it floated into her hand and she began to play it herself, "there's probably some kind of orientation or something, right?”
((I hit quote and not edit))

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