Avatar of Crimson Raven

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Recent Statuses

6 yrs ago
Current 'tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
6 yrs ago
I say the words that I wish someone would tell me in vain hope that they might be returned to me.
2 likes
6 yrs ago
Existence continues.
6 yrs ago
So much I want to do, so little time...
1 like
6 yrs ago
“I’ve met some pricks in my time. But you, sir...” He said to the offending cactus.
7 likes

Bio



“NO ADMITTANCE.
NOT EVEN TO AUTHORISED PERSONNEL.
YOU ARE WASTING YOUR TIME HERE.
GO AWAY.”
― Douglas Adams, Mostly Harmless


NOTICE


Thank you for Noticing This Notice.


Your Noting it has been Noted.


And it has been Reported to the proper Authority.


Hello lurker/ My old friend/ I've come to talk to you again/ Because a shadow softly creeping/ Lurking in the chat while I was sleeping/ And the roleplay that was forming in my brain/ Still remains with the sound of lurking.

In dead roleplays I walked alone/ Narrow pathways of casual zone...

Need mor ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

(Made in collaboration with @hatakekuro)




It is known that there are an infinite number of worlds, simply because there is an infinite amount of space for them to be in. However, not every one of them is inhabited. Therefore, there must be a finite number of inhabited worlds. Any finite number divided by infinity is as near to nothing as makes no odds, so the average population of all the planets in the Universe can be said to be zero. From this it follows that the population of the whole Universe is also zero, and that any people you may meet from time to time are merely the products of a deranged imagination.

--Douglass Adams




All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.

At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.

Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school.

And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow.

Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth.

And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part.

The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound.

Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.


~~As You Like It, Shakespear


"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."


~~ Macbeth, Shakespear





“All stories told have been told before. We tell them to ourselves, as did all men who ever were. And all men who ever will be. The only things new are the names.”




“The purpose of a storyteller is not to tell you how to think, but to give you questions to think upon.”




“What do you know?”

“Almost everything. That almost part can be a real kick in the teeth sometimes.”

“What do you want, then?”

“What I can’t have.” Wit turned to him, eyes solemn. “Same as everyone else, Kaladin Stormblessed.”




"Two blind men waited at the end of an era, contemplating beauty. They sat atop the world’s highest cliff, overlooking the land and seeing nothing.

'Can beauty be taken from a man?' the first asked the second.

'It was taken from me,' the second replied. 'For I cannot remember it.' This man was blinded in a childhood accident. 'I pray to the God Beyond each night to restore my sight, so that I can find beauty again.'

'Is beauty something one must see then?' the first asked.

'Of course. That is it’s nature. How can you appreciate a work of art without seeing it?'

'I can hear a work of music,' the first said.

'Very well, you can hear some kinds of beauty - but you cannot know full beauty without sight. You can know only a small portion of beauty.'

'A sculpture,' the first said. 'Can I not feel its curves and slopes, the touch of the chisel that transformed common rock into uncommon wonder?'

'I suppose,' said the second, 'that you can know the beauty of a sculpture.'

'And what of the beauty of food? Is it not a work of art when a chef crafts a masterpiece to delight the tastes?'

'I suppose,' said the second, 'that you can know the beauty of a chef’s art.'

'And what of the beauty of a woman,' the first said. 'Can I not know her beauty in the softness of her caress, the kindness of her voice, the keenness of her mind as she reads philosophy to me? Can I not know this beauty? Can I not know most kinds of beauty, even without seeing it?'

'Very well,' said the second. 'But what if your ears were removed, your hearing taken away? Your tongue taken out, your mouth forced shut, your sense of smell destroyed? What if your skin were burned so that you could no longer feel? What if all that remained to you was pain? You could not know beauty then. It can be taken from a man.'"

The messenger stopped, cocking his head to Shallan.
"What?" she asked.

"What think you? Can beauty be taken from a man? If he could not touch, taste, smell, hear, see, what if all he knew was pain? Has that man had beauty taken away from him?"

"I…" What did this have to do with anything? "Does the pain change day by day?"

"Let us say it does," the messenger said.

"Then beauty, to that person, would be the times when the pain lessens. Why are you telling me this story?"

The messenger smiled. "To be human is to seek beauty, Shallan. Do not despair, do not end the hunt because thorns grow in your way. Tell me, what is the most beautiful thing you can imagine?"

...




“In this,” Wit said, “as in all things, our actions give us away. If an artist creates a work of powerful beauty – using new and innovative techniques – she will be lauded as a master, and will launch a new movement in aesthetics. Yet what if another, working independently with that exact level of skill, were to make the same accomplishments the very next month? Would she find similar acclaim? No. She’d be called derivative.

“So it’s not beauty itself we admire. It’s not the force of intellect. It’s not the invention, aesthetics, or capacity itself. The greatest talent we think a man can have?” He plucked a final string. “Seems to me that it must be nothing more than novelty.”




"A blind man awaited the era of endings," Wit said, "contemplating the beauty of nature."

Silence

"That man is me," Wit noted. "I'm not physically blind, just spiritually. And that other statement was actually very clever, if you think about it."




"What is it to be witty, then?”

“To say clever things.”

“And what is cleverness?”

“I…” Why was he having this conversation? “I guess it’s the ability to say and do the right things at the right time.”

The King’s Wit cocked his head, then smiled.




“Expectation. That is the true soul of art. If you can give a man more than he expects, then he will laud you his entire life. If you can create an air of anticipation and feed it properly, you will succeed.

“Conversely, if you gain a reputation for being too good, too skilled . . . beware. The better art will be in their heads, and if you give them an ounce less than they imagined, suddenly you have failed. Suddenly you are useless. A man will find a single coin in the mud and talk about it for days, but when his inheritance comes and is accounted one percent less than he expected, then he will declare himself cheated.”

Wit shook his head, standing up and dusting off his coat. “Give me an audience who have come to be entertained, but who expect nothing special. To them, I will be a god. That is the best truth I know.”

~~ Stromlight Archive, Brandon Sanderson


"You see, whether you can draw like this or not, being able to think up this kind of design, it depends on whether or not you can say to yourself, ‘Oh, yeah, girls like this exist in real life. If you don’t spend time watching real people, you can’t do this, because you’ve never seen it. Some people spend their lives interested only in themselves. Almost all Japanese animation is produced with hardly any basis taken from observing real people, you know. It’s produced by humans who can’t stand looking at other humans. And that’s why the industry is full of otaku!"
-Hayao Miyazaki

"In culture an analogous situation leads to the emergence of enclaves shut up in ghettos, where intellectual production likewise stagnates because of inbreeding in the form of incessant repetition of the selfsame creative patterns and techniques. The internal dynamics of the ghetto may appear to be intense, but with the passage of years it becomes evident that this is only a semblance of motion, since it leads nowhere, since it neither feeds into nor is fed by the open domain of culture, since it does not generate new patterns or trends, and since finally it nurses the falsest of notions about itself, for lack of any honest evaluation of its activities from outside."

~Stanislaw Lem, author of Solaris

Some heartfelt music while you lurk



Or U liSTEN TO tem MOOSIC!



I just don't want you to have a Bad Time...



What do I live for?





"I think I've seen this movie before." -@Guess Who






I LOVE TVTROPES!

Most Recent Posts


There is it, tell me what I need to edit, then tell me where these characters might fit into the story.

Just the note the Celestial magic the twins use is still a work in progress. So if you have any suggestions they would be appreciated.


...oh.

Crap.
<Snipped quote by hatakekuro>

Some weird ass shit.


Welcome to Pheonix Wing!

XD
Did anyone catch the Ichiya referance in my last post?
<Snipped quote by Silver Fox>

Um what...? Am I the only one that sounded kind of ridiculous to?


The deal with Karn and Edo-Karn is ridiculous. And funny. And ridiculously funny.
<Snipped quote by Silver Fox>

Fuck, do I feel lost.


Eh, thats part of the Games, there is nothing anyone outside of of it can do.

Remember that there is a lot of stuff going on at once, If you feel lost, just find a post that seems intesting and ask.
I was going to do something with that post, but it turned out to be a lot of fluff. Well, Ferrin is available for interaction.

@Burthstone You could have some of Iron Enigma members notice Ferrin in the colosseum, if you want.
Mors vincit omnia

(Death conquers all)


Unknown

"...yes, of course, everything is going according to schedule. There was an incident, and the subjects escaped, however, they seem to have left town." "I see, that is unfortunate, but there is little else we can do. How is it that they escaped?" There was a pause. "A wizard, Ferrin, his name was? He appears to be quite powerful. He could be prove a hiderance. ...or, possibly, an asset..." "Sir?" "Don't worry about him. Even if he does interfere, there is nothing he can do. Three decades of planning has gone into this, even he cannot stop us now. Nevertheless, have your spies keep an eye out for him, but do not engage him. That is all."




Ferrin

"Man, this sucks." I complained, loudly. More than half the day was gone, and I had turned up squat. No matter who I asked, or where I went, the story was the same, everything was normal, there were no groups of shadowy figures meeting in a dark alley, no dead bodies turning up in the streets, or people mysteriously going missing. Crocus was as normal as it could get during the Grand Magic Games. The event from the other day had been passed off as another fight between wizards.

I was sprawled on a bench near a quiter part of the city, in one of the rare plots of random greenery, just existing in the middle of a big, bustling city. The kind that aught to not exist, but through some circumstance, bad planning, or a purposeful arrangment, a strip of land went unused, and got turned into a blotch of green in a sea of gray. A small baston of nature that held firm against the rising tide of civilization.

I sighed as I rested my arms on the back of the bench, and put my head back. I could feel a slight headache coming on. Eventualy, I took notice of some small gray birds, that are ever-present in any city, hopping around and chirping nearby. One of them, braver than its fellows, hopped up on the bench and looked at me with its beady eyes. Leaning forward, and looking at it, I told it, "I guess I am not cut out to be an investigator." It chirped, and cocked its head back and forth a few times before suddenly taking flight, and flying away. "It was nice talking to you, too." I muttered. Giving a yawn, I got to my feet to resume the search.

Walking through Crocus, or any big city, is a whirlwind of sights, smells, and a cacophony of noises. People are the first thing you notice. Humanity is everywhere, crowding the streets, in the buildings, even, if you look up, as I often do, on the rooftops. Then there are the buildings, which I find are the most intersting. Some squat, some tall, some grey, some blue, some with gaudy, colorful signs above the entrance, others plain, and inconspicuous, almost hiding in plain sight. The last thing are the smells, the smell of food, people, trash, animals and a hundred other, unidentifiable, scents blend together to create a...a... parfum that is unique to every city. I had an idea to head for the colosseum, for no particular reason, and although that was my ultimate desdenation, I wandered a bit, curious to see exactly how it had changed in the last two hundred or so years.

Yeah, that. Honestly, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the idea that I had ended up two hundreds years into the future, and that a lot happened that I missed. Everytime I try, my brain just seems to fail, and I have simple decided not to think about it, and accept this time as my new reality. Its tough, but whatever keeps me functioning. Maybe some day, when I don't have an imminent crises, I can go insane, and wallow in greif, or whatever. But for now, it just seems unreal.

A passing sensation, like a wire of sub-zero metal being pressed into my skin, broke me out of my thoughts. I stopped and look around for the source. I saw nothing, just buildings and people...and more buildings and more people. Acting on instinct, I took a step back-- and there it was again. I looked at my feet and saw the street, but nothing else. The left one option. I inched forward slowly, getting some annoyed looks from people passing around me for blocking the traffic. Eventualy, I felt the sensation again, and it stayed as I stood on the spot. I was feeling the residue of an incredibly powerful magic, of a type I did not reconise. As I stood there, I relised that the residue exteded in thin line from one side of the street to the other, which explained why I only felt it for a moment. More bored than anything else, I walked the line of magic and found that it was straight and narrow. I could find out nothing more, so I moved on. Crocus had been a city of wizards for a long time, and it wasn't unusual for me to feel all kinds of magical resadue from spells past and present. I attempt to block most of the imput, becuase, like any sence, it can get overloaded, but sometimes a particualy strong feeling gets through. With a shrug, I filed away the phenomenon, and kept heading toward the colosseum.

The crowd thickened as I got closer, but with my height and size, I could push my way through. I made my way through the crowd, and through one of the enormous hallways that lead to the seats. Instead of finding a seat, I remained standing, watching the games. I narrowed my eyes slightly, when I saw a member of Iron Enigma participating. I had forgotten about the little raid I put together. They would be all too glad to know I was here, and the soldiers probably still wanted me for questioning. Oh well, you live long enough, and you are bound to make some enemies. Still...I probably shouldn't linger too long here.
<Snipped quote by Crimson Raven>

Grant used 'Link Bodies' on Karn in order to blackmail Penny. Karn who is currently Edo-Karn is using her incapability to utilize Earthland's Karn's magic to her advantage by using failed transformations to cause extreme pain to both her and Grant. Penny used Phoenix Song to put Karn asleep. Karn reacted by basically fail transforming into a worm and digging into the earth before passing out underground.

They are in the Magic Games by the way

Malice is also there waiting for a attack by Grant or Penny since they both wanted to attack her at first


Nevermind then
@Silver Fox

So what is going on with Karn, Grant, Penny and whomever else is there? I might bring Ferrin into it for kicks a legitimate reason.
I feel like I've missed something


I feel like that all the time.

Its like I know I have forgotten something, but I can't remember what I have forgotten.

Usually, it turns out to be something importaint, that I feel stupid over later.
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