Member
Hi guys been awhile I'd like to say I'm sorry for the absence. I've been going through a lot rn in my life but I'm happy to say I am here in a capacity to get back into some good old fashioned DND if you'll still have me.
- Last Seen: 4 mos ago
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 17100 (4.14 / day)
- VMs: 29
-
Username history
- Dark Cloud 5 yrs ago
- ███████████ 11 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
Lewascan2,
Retribution,
Lurking Krog,
Guardian Angel Haruki,
SleepingSilence,
Neziul,
PacificRanger,
LadyRunic,
Veilsight,
X Fiendfyre X
Status
Recent Statuses
4 mos ago
Current
War...War never changes.
4
likes
4 mos ago
Hey 16 is the most fantasy, final fantasy has been in years rather than steampunk. It's called final fantasy not steampunk fantasy.
1
like
4 mos ago
We can all agree that 12 sucked ass. Vaan is a stupid protagonist that I wanted so badly to die.
4 mos ago
The best final fantasy is 6 and I will die on that hill. I will die on that hill gladly and happily.
4 mos ago
Fuck you I'll drink gasoline instead.
6
likes
Bio
// PST 9:00 AM - 9:00 PM // Male - Canadian - 27yo //
| Info Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vestibulum iaculis urna vel risus rhoncus, et aliquam leo sagittis. Sed at odio sapien. Curabitur sed mi id risus consequat aliquam. Nam porttitor orci eget quam sollicitudin auctor. Quisque et quam sed justo interdum efficitur nec non magna. Donec tristique mi nisi, commodo pulvinar elit sollicitudin et. |
Most Recent Posts
And with that my friends I have posted finally
The warmth of the ale settled pleasantly in Clive's stomach, a welcome contrast to the chill that had settled in his bones. Fenna's arrival had been a breath of fresh air, a much-needed distraction from the gnawing anxieties that had been plaguing him. Zell, bless his heart, had been trying his best to be supportive, but his attempts at lighthearted banter felt strained, like a poorly-played tune. Clive knew he was struggling too, the weight of their shared burden heavy on their shoulders but he truly appreciated his friends words.
"Cheers, y'all," Clive said, clinking his mug against Fenna's "To good company, and to facing adver-city? That's how it's called ain't it? Ah hell cheers." the farmer shook his weary head and laughed, the weight of his troubles settling back on his shoulders somewhat but not as much in the present company. They drank and laughed, talked about the days past and now sharing their time together over a drink it reminded him of a home he had far away but now here was home...
'Maybe...Maybe it ain't so bad.' the southerner thought to himself, downing the frothy liquid in his drink he set the dirty mug on the table with a gulp, stifling a slight bit of a belch behind his fist 'Maybe it ain't all that rough going...' he thought looking at Zell cheerfully cavorting with the grumpy bartender and other patrons who seemed to be having none of it then Fenna, his gaze lingered for a second remembering fighting side-by-side with her to save the people all the way back when it began in that town they woke up in...The child they both saved...She was quite something, she was truly a good woman he admired her spirit to say the least...
Zell's boisterous return, however, brought a much-needed dose of levity especially to the southerner who tried to play off his staring as nothing but the drink making him see double. He deposited three mugs of beer and three small glasses filled with a dark, viscous liquid on the table the stuff in the glass was called, "Manticore Spit," and Zell explained as much, telling them that he got chatting to a table while waiting for the beers and they recommended it as something that will - quote - 'blow your fucking head off.' and in the case of Zelll it certainly looked as though it almost did.
Clive couldn't help but chuckle, the absurdity of the situation momentarily lifting the weight of his worries. "Well, now, Zell," he said, shaking his head, "Maybe you should have gone for the beer, partner. But hey, at least it's an experience, right?" he took the shot glass in his hand raised it to Fenna with a smile "Well, here goes! Over the lips, through the gums, look out stomach, here it comes!" oh, it was a foul concoction to say the least like what them folks in Russia drink cept' worse, Clive's face contorted to a pained grimace pounding a fist against his chest and coughing "Hoo-boy..I-I'm gonna be feelin that tommorow." after a fit of coughing and white-knuckling he wheezed out those words to the lightly smiling face of Fenna as she watched them both down the foul liquid.
"Well there little lady, is that pretty little face o' yours gonna smile or-" Clive's voice was hoarse from the alcohol but still had that same charm he usually had if not a little forced sliding the last glass towards the ranger with a little smirk on his now rosey freckled face "How's about them lips of yours taste this, cause I sure as heck ain't gonna have another."
I could not find a better image so there lol
"So tell me: Wha'dya miss most about Texas, eh?" half-way through his second beer, the farmer set the empty mug on the bar with a thud wiping the froth from his lips with the back of his hand face distant if not somewhat pensive. Clive, slightly buzzed by this point had the luxury of his senses being somewhat fuzzy to dull the other more painful feelings and exhaustion that his body would no doubt feel the next day.
"Askin' them tough questions huh? Ah hell, I miss...I miss a lot, I miss my family...I miss home, and most of all-" the southerner raised the dirty mug up with a wry smile "Well good beer of course," Clive stifled a snort, knocking his mug against Zell's before sighing and looking somewhat more serious "If...If I'm bein' darn well honest I reckon what I miss most is what I used to have, my life was simple I...I was a gosh darn farmer, I worked a field and took care of horses not...Not this...Sometimes it's just so...Overwhelming y'know?" the farmer gave Zell a bit of a pointed look as to drop the question but he didn't seem to mind telling his drinking mate more about his life in Texas with a degree of pride, telling Zell of the many times he'd ridden through the fields drunker than Cooter Brown and about his horse and how she'd been his horse since he was a young lad til the day she caught colic and his pa had to shoot her dead.
"Y'know somethin?" the farmer leered closer to his companion placing a hand around his shoulder, his speech somewhat stunted and eyes bleary from the drink "When-Wh-When I died...Ag-Again, it was so dark..." through the redness of Clive's expression came a dark look, the words coming tumbling out maybe the alcohol loosening his otherwise tight lips or that he trusted Zell perhaps it was hard to tell.
"I can't get it out o' my head no matter how much I try."
@Mae I've been pretty busy sorry, but that site you posted will be useful. I'm gonna get to finishing up the sheets tonight.
Even though your stressed clearly your writing is still very good.
© 2007-2026