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A Spiny Ant
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- ERode 12 yrs ago
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Most Recent Posts
He's a member of the Aryan master race, Anderiel. Insult him at your peril.
Is that true, Anderiel? For shame. Sky isn't even that bad.
I respond to you all the time. What are you talking about?
Well, if you want to, I can add y'all, but it's not REALLY a chat group. It's just me and Sky talking to each other about random shit, and Anderiel being AFK.
It's like everyone's PMSing right now. They should all just take a hike.
How to make an Arara post: treat everyone as plebs, but only in your character thoughts
Posted.
The cruelest fate is to be the character of an RPer. For your body is not your own, and you put up with shit just for the sake of plot.
#lifeishard
#ashifili@unmotivated
#everyoneblamesthehealer
#getoutofthefuckingroom
The cruelest fate is to be the character of an RPer. For your body is not your own, and you put up with shit just for the sake of plot.
#lifeishard
#ashifili@unmotivated
#everyoneblamesthehealer
#getoutofthefuckingroom
Happy and friendly? This lute-loving buffoon? The one who thought that it was a good idea to threaten a HEALER? The same healer that saved his life, instead of stabbing him in the throat and just looting him for everything he had? And now he was doubting her words as well. Great. This was great. Yes, next time, she'll just heal them up enough that they can live a few days longer and leave them alone. God knows what she was thinking when she patched him up and carried that meatsack around with her for a few days.
Aelitha, understandably, was not pleased. But she wasn't a violent person by nature, other than when she felt like being violent, and so, she closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and eventually managed to push her irritation regarding the whole scenario down inside her mind. It was going to be alright. She can still get paid for this. Maybe the rest of the Shephards won't be this bad. Maybe there will be some justification later on. Maybe, just maybe, there still might be something interesting that'll pop up. Maybe he's just like this because he's cranky, and that lute-hostage-taker is just like this because she's an amoral criminal! With those not-so pleasant thoughts in mind, Aelitha managed to stop herself from doing anything rash.
Then another bitch busted in her room and stated some very nasty threats.
Aelitha took another deep breath and then let it all out in one long sigh. There were three Shephard-related people that she had met. Not a single one of them had a shred of logic, rationality, understanding, or anything else that would make her think that they were worth working with. What a shame. What a pain in the arse. What a waste of time.
And look, now that Talbot person was coughing again, his recently healed ribs heaving in a manner that definitely would not be very helpful at all. And to think that she had just healed him as well. Why does she even bother sometimes? Ah, no, she can't do her job if she's still like this. Healing magic wasn't something that was improved by anger, unlike destructive magic. If she kept on feeling like she should just abandon these lost causes, Aelitha wouldn't be able to do much.
So she walked to her bags, took out her skinning knife, and stabbed the table three times, her face void of expression. Three deep scars appeared on the rough wood, the knife left stuck in it. For good measure, she clenched her spare hand and slammed it against her knee, before letting out an even longer, exaggerated sigh.
“Two things I dislike as a healer,” she said, not bothering to turn around, “Patients that don't know when to rest, and visitors that don't know how to knock. Please don't make my job any more annoying than it is with all this. Can you all just keep your flirting brief? Preferably fetch some water on the way, to moisten his throat? Make yourself useful? Beheading girl, roll him over to his side, in case he chokes on his spit or something. Make sure he's still lying down though. Spines don't heal quite as well, you see, so it's probably in the late stage of mending. Try not to move upwards too much.”
Why exactly did she do this job again? In this situation, she couldn't even feel GOOD about doing it.
It was like some stupid puppeteer was directing her decisions towards doing things that she wouldn't do, making her put up with things that she wouldn't put up with, dealing with people that she didn't want to deal with.
Ah, it would be great if she could just pack up and leave, but nope, that mysterious cosmic force kept her in the room, recasting Mend as a pain-numbing agent on this idiotic patient.
It would be so great to just find that bishie rich person who was hiring mercenaries and offer her services, wouldn't it?
Aelitha, understandably, was not pleased. But she wasn't a violent person by nature, other than when she felt like being violent, and so, she closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and eventually managed to push her irritation regarding the whole scenario down inside her mind. It was going to be alright. She can still get paid for this. Maybe the rest of the Shephards won't be this bad. Maybe there will be some justification later on. Maybe, just maybe, there still might be something interesting that'll pop up. Maybe he's just like this because he's cranky, and that lute-hostage-taker is just like this because she's an amoral criminal! With those not-so pleasant thoughts in mind, Aelitha managed to stop herself from doing anything rash.
Then another bitch busted in her room and stated some very nasty threats.
Aelitha took another deep breath and then let it all out in one long sigh. There were three Shephard-related people that she had met. Not a single one of them had a shred of logic, rationality, understanding, or anything else that would make her think that they were worth working with. What a shame. What a pain in the arse. What a waste of time.
And look, now that Talbot person was coughing again, his recently healed ribs heaving in a manner that definitely would not be very helpful at all. And to think that she had just healed him as well. Why does she even bother sometimes? Ah, no, she can't do her job if she's still like this. Healing magic wasn't something that was improved by anger, unlike destructive magic. If she kept on feeling like she should just abandon these lost causes, Aelitha wouldn't be able to do much.
So she walked to her bags, took out her skinning knife, and stabbed the table three times, her face void of expression. Three deep scars appeared on the rough wood, the knife left stuck in it. For good measure, she clenched her spare hand and slammed it against her knee, before letting out an even longer, exaggerated sigh.
“Two things I dislike as a healer,” she said, not bothering to turn around, “Patients that don't know when to rest, and visitors that don't know how to knock. Please don't make my job any more annoying than it is with all this. Can you all just keep your flirting brief? Preferably fetch some water on the way, to moisten his throat? Make yourself useful? Beheading girl, roll him over to his side, in case he chokes on his spit or something. Make sure he's still lying down though. Spines don't heal quite as well, you see, so it's probably in the late stage of mending. Try not to move upwards too much.”
Why exactly did she do this job again? In this situation, she couldn't even feel GOOD about doing it.
It was like some stupid puppeteer was directing her decisions towards doing things that she wouldn't do, making her put up with things that she wouldn't put up with, dealing with people that she didn't want to deal with.
Ah, it would be great if she could just pack up and leave, but nope, that mysterious cosmic force kept her in the room, recasting Mend as a pain-numbing agent on this idiotic patient.
It would be so great to just find that bishie rich person who was hiring mercenaries and offer her services, wouldn't it?
Posted. Writer's block makes everything mediocre.
Arara could see someone off to the distance, of course, but it really was quite too far for her to make anything out of it. On the other side of Lake Listless, there was a blob of humanness, but it didn't concern her too much. After all, surely there was no one desperate enough for a partner this early that they would...
Oh wait, they just did.
Watching from the shoreline, Arara observed that blob charging up their Aura and then leaping, intent on clearing the lake in a single jump. A great explosion and a trail of sand and dust streaked behind the person like a jet plume as they sailed through the air. And just like that, they covered the distance once blocked by water, landing on the side of the beach that Arara was on. Another, smaller explosion occured, and the student tumbled for a quite a bit until he stopped, rolling onto his feet and then standing up once more. An impressive display, and as the student brushed off the sand on his body, she realized that she knew this person. Orion Armstrong, the person who wore Patchwork clothing yesterday. He seemed alright, and no doubt that he was strong, at least enough to clear a lake in a single jump, even if his landing left much to be desired. His weapon was similar to her own, so that was another plus. Ultimately, an acceptable partner.
And an acceptable one was all that she needed. After all, it wasn't like Orion was a faunus or something.
“Salutations to you too, Orion Armstrong,” she said, taking out her WATCH, yet not putting it on. “I presume you'd like to become partners with me?”
Oh wait, they just did.
Watching from the shoreline, Arara observed that blob charging up their Aura and then leaping, intent on clearing the lake in a single jump. A great explosion and a trail of sand and dust streaked behind the person like a jet plume as they sailed through the air. And just like that, they covered the distance once blocked by water, landing on the side of the beach that Arara was on. Another, smaller explosion occured, and the student tumbled for a quite a bit until he stopped, rolling onto his feet and then standing up once more. An impressive display, and as the student brushed off the sand on his body, she realized that she knew this person. Orion Armstrong, the person who wore Patchwork clothing yesterday. He seemed alright, and no doubt that he was strong, at least enough to clear a lake in a single jump, even if his landing left much to be desired. His weapon was similar to her own, so that was another plus. Ultimately, an acceptable partner.
And an acceptable one was all that she needed. After all, it wasn't like Orion was a faunus or something.
“Salutations to you too, Orion Armstrong,” she said, taking out her WATCH, yet not putting it on. “I presume you'd like to become partners with me?”
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