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- Old Guild Username: 0ubliz
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 3049 (0.67 / day)
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- Estylwen 12 yrs ago
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The Otter,
NoriWasHere,
Yankee,
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Evil Ghost Note,
IAmTheIsland,
Atrophy,
LanaStorm,
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flux
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Recent Statuses
1 yr ago
Current
With a heavy heart, I set sail.
6
likes
1 yr ago
First time making samosas from scratch; also making fried pakoras, fruit salad, and daal. I can't wait to try it all~
7
likes
1 yr ago
Okowa, the sister of sushi! I got my chicken, my fish, my mushrooms - I'm gonna drown it all in soy sauce-
1
like
1 yr ago
Maybe I'll play Cyberpunk 2077 some more. My brother maxed out my character a year and a half ago. Haven't seen him since. Miss him.
3
likes
1 yr ago
Mica, my pet snail, passed away today. :(
10
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Bio
°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°
”Mr. Dawson, why don't you have a seat?” He said, gesturing to the brown leather chair he had his hand resting on.
The men behind Adel stepped forward. They each placed a firm hand around his upper arms, half-guiding, half-dragging Adel to the seat. If Adel struggled in any way, their plan would have been quickly subduing him with a blow to the cheek - but besides tensing up, the man didn’t fight.
They shoved Adel into the seat, twisting it so it faced the mirror. Vincent still had that smirk on his face as he picked up a bowl of shaving cream and an applicator brush on the counter.
Slowly, methodically, Vincent applied shaving cream to Adel's face while speaking.
”Now, my men tell me that you and your spies have decided to make it your home in White Pine. Not that I care too much about that.”
He set down the bowl, picking out a barber's blade instead. He opened it, the fresh gleam of a clean, sharp blade within.
“What I really care about, though, is who set you up to do this.”
The blade pressed against Adel's neck as Vincent leaned over, staring at the man through the mirror.
”So, what'll it be, Canary? You gonna sing?”
~*~
Nocturnal Memoirs (2024)
"A million times I have done this charade. The moment people figure it out, I get the boot." she thought.
"But don't you want to see the fear in their eyes when they see who you really are...? Don't you want dominion of this place, just like how you were unchallenged in Vaal Kastrix?" said the Voice.
Ciara scoffed, immediately thinking of Gulliver and Valen. "I'd love to wipe the smirk off their faces."
"It starts by building a rumor. A rumor of power. This could be the place to start."
She took a deep breath, narrowing her eyes resolutely at the Undermage. "Head Advisor, with all due respect, you have no right to ask me about my intentions. If you want answers..."
She stood from her seat, rising to her full height.
"You'll have to duel me for them."
~*~
Iris Ascendis Roleplay (2023) | TikTok Tribute
We have a RPer Appreciation thread?
This is beautiful, I'll bookmark it. (2016)
Another kind comment. (2024)
This is what makes it worth it. (2024)
I'm grateful for the ride. (2024)
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Most Recent Posts
If the Elementals all got along we'd have no development to work with. Regardless, I think you'll like my next post, Xzalyer.
Ugh... Aislin couldn't help but shudder as Dana wrapped her up in some incredibly long arms. They felt so strange, so abnormal and alien; she thanked the darkness she couldn't actually discern their true nature. With tentative hands, she held onto the arm around her waist, swallowing her repulsion. It's just Dana, get ahold of yourself.
Their speed was insane, truly insane. G-force pressed against her body, she could hardly breathe at this break-neck pace. Well, it literally would be break-neck if Dana hadn't securely supported her head. Aislin was so not prepared, and she squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the roller coaster ride to be over. She stumbled on her feet as Dana set her down, forgetting her sense of balance. Where were they?
She appraised doors she didn't recognize for a moment. But... Oh right, she walked out these very doors not an hour earlier, blind impulse guiding her to what could have very possibly been her demise. Ah, and after her second brush with death she had more questions than answers, and still no answers to her previous questions. It was disenchanting, increasingly so. Her ideals were slipping away, she could feel it. Instead, they replaced themselves with fear, darkness...
"... We need to tell someone about this...." Aislin felt a hand on her shoulder, which she reached up to grip tightly. The texture still churned her stomach, but she felt herself descending into a dark, dark place. Dana was her last spark of light. "Don't worry, you will not be alone..."
Aislin looked down at herself, and immediately wished she didn't. Being covered in mud, dirt and blood from head to toe and wearing shredded, stained clothes made her look god-awful. Like something that walked through Hell, which honestly wouldn't have been far from the truth. Her exhaustion pushed her past the point of being self-conscious, but she didn't want to talk about... About before. She'd force herself to relive it, her and her cruel imagination.
Fresh tears silently fell from her eyes as she let go of Dana's hand. Her voice was a whisper. "You're right... You're right."
Feeling a little more resolved, Aislin let themselves in. The waiting room was just down the hall, empty of most people except two. She recognized them both, the eel-ish meta that kindly carried her to the hospital earlier, and Mr. Blackmore. He always seemed to be at the right place at the right time.
"Mr. Eel, it's good to see you." She said hollowly before turning her gaze to the man of the hour. Adam was a very important teacher to her, his opinion mattered a lot. And to have him see her like this, it embarrassed her. What would he think, seeing a sniveling little Aislin walk in like she'd seen a ghost?
"Sir..." She began, her voice shaky. "Something's, uh... happened. May Dana and I talk to you in private?"
Their speed was insane, truly insane. G-force pressed against her body, she could hardly breathe at this break-neck pace. Well, it literally would be break-neck if Dana hadn't securely supported her head. Aislin was so not prepared, and she squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the roller coaster ride to be over. She stumbled on her feet as Dana set her down, forgetting her sense of balance. Where were they?
She appraised doors she didn't recognize for a moment. But... Oh right, she walked out these very doors not an hour earlier, blind impulse guiding her to what could have very possibly been her demise. Ah, and after her second brush with death she had more questions than answers, and still no answers to her previous questions. It was disenchanting, increasingly so. Her ideals were slipping away, she could feel it. Instead, they replaced themselves with fear, darkness...
"... We need to tell someone about this...." Aislin felt a hand on her shoulder, which she reached up to grip tightly. The texture still churned her stomach, but she felt herself descending into a dark, dark place. Dana was her last spark of light. "Don't worry, you will not be alone..."
Aislin looked down at herself, and immediately wished she didn't. Being covered in mud, dirt and blood from head to toe and wearing shredded, stained clothes made her look god-awful. Like something that walked through Hell, which honestly wouldn't have been far from the truth. Her exhaustion pushed her past the point of being self-conscious, but she didn't want to talk about... About before. She'd force herself to relive it, her and her cruel imagination.
Fresh tears silently fell from her eyes as she let go of Dana's hand. Her voice was a whisper. "You're right... You're right."
Feeling a little more resolved, Aislin let themselves in. The waiting room was just down the hall, empty of most people except two. She recognized them both, the eel-ish meta that kindly carried her to the hospital earlier, and Mr. Blackmore. He always seemed to be at the right place at the right time.
"Mr. Eel, it's good to see you." She said hollowly before turning her gaze to the man of the hour. Adam was a very important teacher to her, his opinion mattered a lot. And to have him see her like this, it embarrassed her. What would he think, seeing a sniveling little Aislin walk in like she'd seen a ghost?
"Sir..." She began, her voice shaky. "Something's, uh... happened. May Dana and I talk to you in private?"
Hehe, only cuz Will and Cora have a budding affection between each other. >w>
Sounds good, Sync. It iiiiiissss Halloween, after all.
Sounds good, Sync. It iiiiiissss Halloween, after all.
Apokalipse said
I will get a post up later tonight, or tomorrow.
No pressure. Today's Halloween, after all.
The Roman07 said
Okay done with CS and ready to be judged :) hope y'all let me play too lol
Of course! We have space for a couple more players. And I looked through your CS... Couldn't find a single thing that I didn't like. Rook should be a veeery interesting character to get to know, haha. If Jazz doesn't have any complaints either, Rook is accepted~ :)
Alright, players. A delicious post is waiting for you in the IC. Now, Laraxis' (the man on the TV) proposal is optional, I would preferably like half of you to travel to New York, half to call Laraxis' bluff. Those who call his bluff will be approached by another individual soon after.
Citrine, in particular, will be traveling to New York.
Citrine, in particular, will be traveling to New York.
Citrine | Portland, Oregon
"Been a while since I've seen your sorry face, Cyrus."
They sat in a quiet cafe, one table from the door and sidled up against the window. Citrine had an arm hooked around the back of her chair, staring non-chalant across the mahogany. She wore black server clothes, giving the appearance of a coffee girl on break. Despite working for the past five hours, she looked perfect. Not a blonde hair was out of place, and her crystal blue eyes were highlighted with smudge-free cosmetics.
It was her smile that was most disarming. It spoke with genuine warmth, lighting up her eyes. "But I am thrilled you're here. Tell me, is there any news?"
Her visitor leaned forward, resting an arm on the table. He was an intriguing man to look at, what with his black nationality, bald head and patch covering his left eye. He was tall and built (maybe even handsome), but seemed to have a dislike to any colour. Dark clothes and a black trench coat hugged his body, shiny dress shoes on his feet.
"Not anything good, I'm afraid. Zephyr was found dead outside his apartment at 4:36pm yesterday, the cause unknown. Epsilion was forcibly taken in by the government two weeks ago." He spoke evenly, an assertive tone behind his words.
Citrine's brow delicately furrowed. "I see. So if it's as bad as you say... Are you ready to tell me who you are?"
A quick shake of the head. "No. In time, Citrine." Cyrus glanced up at the clock hanging by the flatscreen embedded in the wall. "I can't risk staying any longer, unfortunately. Turn on the news, you know what day it is today."
He was half-out the door before Citrine could stand. Hovering, he glanced back. "...Be careful." The door clinked shut behind him not a moment later.
Dutifully, Citrine waltzed around the counter, pulling out the staff remote. The TV to her right came to life, and she flicked through the channels for the news station. With absolutely zero customers in the cafe to serve she could watch in peace. Wringing out a washcloth, she began idly washing down the counter as her eyes hovered on the memorial special.
"Today we remember the tragedy that happened exactly two years ago on June 11th, 2012 at 5:19pm. Obsidian, the leading founder of its time in biochemical technology erupted in flames, setting fire to the buildings surrounding it. Although most were evacuated safely, 51 people died while 27 were rushed to the Emergency."
They rolled some footage of the site as it was two years ago, with smoke filling the air. Screams and small explosions could be heard as the camera tried to capture as much destruction as it could. The scene was replaced with Obsidian's HQ as it was in 2014, completely demolished and turned into a memorial site with copper statues, trees and gardens.
"Obsidian was sued and disbanded after their top-secret weapons wreaked havoc on our city. Their name on file was 'Operatives', but these super-human creations were the furthest from the heroes depicted in popular media. With the country's security on high alert, the government has done its best to bring these terrorists to justice..."
The screen was behaving strangely, flickering out of focus. And suddenly, both audio and visual cut out. All the screen displayed was black and white static. Citrine frowned, flipping through channels. All had the bizarre static. But right as she was about to give up and turn the TV off, a masked man came into focus on the screen. His skin was painfully white and his attire was strange, black monk robes with gold edges coupled with a black mask. He stood behind a white wall, in his grasp was a thin, square device with rows of red buttons.
"Hello... Operatives. I have something for you." Malice dripped from his tongue. "This is being broadcast on all channels US-wide, I want the whole world to witness their greatest, most stupid fear. You, my dear Operatives. They hate you, fear you, spit upon the ground you walk!"
He made a dramatic flourish with his hand. "I don't. In fact, we're friends already, and I'll tell you why. This device I have, I'm sure you're familiar with its original. I believe they called it the Kill Switch Protocol."
With a malicious laugh, he pressed a red button at random. Citrine's heart jumped into her throat, and she held her breath. Seconds passed before she finally relaxed, utterly relieved. Half-way across the US, a man slumped in his seat on a bus, dead in an instant.
"You see, your life is in my hands. A man just died to be an example for all of you. Now, here's what's going to happen. You're going to be in New York tomorrow, Manhattan square. I'll have people who will contact you when the time is right. You could consider this a... Forced business proposal, almost. You could be great, my dear. Enough of this hiding in fear, you're better then the cage society confines you in."
He put a finger on his masked chin, appearing thoughtful. But he shook his head. "Mmm, nah. We'll talk more later. And, for your sake, I do hope you consider." He seemed to smile behind the thinly veiled threat. The screen abruptly blacked out, then resumed normal programs.
Citrine continued staring in horror, her body frozen in cold fear. In an instant, her past caught up with her. The awful days of living in terror under the hammer of Obsidian... The ghosts were back, clawing at her insides.
Well shit...
"Been a while since I've seen your sorry face, Cyrus."
They sat in a quiet cafe, one table from the door and sidled up against the window. Citrine had an arm hooked around the back of her chair, staring non-chalant across the mahogany. She wore black server clothes, giving the appearance of a coffee girl on break. Despite working for the past five hours, she looked perfect. Not a blonde hair was out of place, and her crystal blue eyes were highlighted with smudge-free cosmetics.
It was her smile that was most disarming. It spoke with genuine warmth, lighting up her eyes. "But I am thrilled you're here. Tell me, is there any news?"
Her visitor leaned forward, resting an arm on the table. He was an intriguing man to look at, what with his black nationality, bald head and patch covering his left eye. He was tall and built (maybe even handsome), but seemed to have a dislike to any colour. Dark clothes and a black trench coat hugged his body, shiny dress shoes on his feet.
"Not anything good, I'm afraid. Zephyr was found dead outside his apartment at 4:36pm yesterday, the cause unknown. Epsilion was forcibly taken in by the government two weeks ago." He spoke evenly, an assertive tone behind his words.
Citrine's brow delicately furrowed. "I see. So if it's as bad as you say... Are you ready to tell me who you are?"
A quick shake of the head. "No. In time, Citrine." Cyrus glanced up at the clock hanging by the flatscreen embedded in the wall. "I can't risk staying any longer, unfortunately. Turn on the news, you know what day it is today."
He was half-out the door before Citrine could stand. Hovering, he glanced back. "...Be careful." The door clinked shut behind him not a moment later.
Dutifully, Citrine waltzed around the counter, pulling out the staff remote. The TV to her right came to life, and she flicked through the channels for the news station. With absolutely zero customers in the cafe to serve she could watch in peace. Wringing out a washcloth, she began idly washing down the counter as her eyes hovered on the memorial special.
"Today we remember the tragedy that happened exactly two years ago on June 11th, 2012 at 5:19pm. Obsidian, the leading founder of its time in biochemical technology erupted in flames, setting fire to the buildings surrounding it. Although most were evacuated safely, 51 people died while 27 were rushed to the Emergency."
They rolled some footage of the site as it was two years ago, with smoke filling the air. Screams and small explosions could be heard as the camera tried to capture as much destruction as it could. The scene was replaced with Obsidian's HQ as it was in 2014, completely demolished and turned into a memorial site with copper statues, trees and gardens.
"Obsidian was sued and disbanded after their top-secret weapons wreaked havoc on our city. Their name on file was 'Operatives', but these super-human creations were the furthest from the heroes depicted in popular media. With the country's security on high alert, the government has done its best to bring these terrorists to justice..."
The screen was behaving strangely, flickering out of focus. And suddenly, both audio and visual cut out. All the screen displayed was black and white static. Citrine frowned, flipping through channels. All had the bizarre static. But right as she was about to give up and turn the TV off, a masked man came into focus on the screen. His skin was painfully white and his attire was strange, black monk robes with gold edges coupled with a black mask. He stood behind a white wall, in his grasp was a thin, square device with rows of red buttons.
"Hello... Operatives. I have something for you." Malice dripped from his tongue. "This is being broadcast on all channels US-wide, I want the whole world to witness their greatest, most stupid fear. You, my dear Operatives. They hate you, fear you, spit upon the ground you walk!"
He made a dramatic flourish with his hand. "I don't. In fact, we're friends already, and I'll tell you why. This device I have, I'm sure you're familiar with its original. I believe they called it the Kill Switch Protocol."
With a malicious laugh, he pressed a red button at random. Citrine's heart jumped into her throat, and she held her breath. Seconds passed before she finally relaxed, utterly relieved. Half-way across the US, a man slumped in his seat on a bus, dead in an instant.
"You see, your life is in my hands. A man just died to be an example for all of you. Now, here's what's going to happen. You're going to be in New York tomorrow, Manhattan square. I'll have people who will contact you when the time is right. You could consider this a... Forced business proposal, almost. You could be great, my dear. Enough of this hiding in fear, you're better then the cage society confines you in."
He put a finger on his masked chin, appearing thoughtful. But he shook his head. "Mmm, nah. We'll talk more later. And, for your sake, I do hope you consider." He seemed to smile behind the thinly veiled threat. The screen abruptly blacked out, then resumed normal programs.
Citrine continued staring in horror, her body frozen in cold fear. In an instant, her past caught up with her. The awful days of living in terror under the hammer of Obsidian... The ghosts were back, clawing at her insides.
Well shit...
Wow, a day-time baby. Not often I hear those. Hehe, I was born at 4am. XD Yay, silver shiny ball~ Feel free to let me know, change is always a good thing.
Hello Jedly~! Oh, that would be perfect. Avis greatly dislikes being alone, so I would be very glad to edit my post to mention the Feather's first mate. :D
Hello Jedly~! Oh, that would be perfect. Avis greatly dislikes being alone, so I would be very glad to edit my post to mention the Feather's first mate. :D
Awwwwwwwwe, you're gonna be a dad?! :D Oh my god, congrats!!
Ehhh... Lunaire hasn't said a word, I dunno... We can make this work with three people, and fall back on Avis's silver ball. ERode's quite active on the site.
Ehhh... Lunaire hasn't said a word, I dunno... We can make this work with three people, and fall back on Avis's silver ball. ERode's quite active on the site.
I didn't mean for Cora to be so mean, but she iiiiisss hungry. >w>
Don't mean to alarm anyone, but this roleplay is gonna die again if we stay any longer at the Haven. If we wanna split in two groups, one for guns and one for food, that's cool. We'll have to rendezvous at Atlanta or something. Kyra will bring us together again.
Don't mean to alarm anyone, but this roleplay is gonna die again if we stay any longer at the Haven. If we wanna split in two groups, one for guns and one for food, that's cool. We'll have to rendezvous at Atlanta or something. Kyra will bring us together again.
"I tell you what we're gonna do kid! We're gonna head to the military base to the north west of Atlanta and get us some guns! Hell, maybe even a tank!" Said the newbie. She never caught his name.
Yahtzee had directed the question to her, and she was moments from answering. Instead, Yahtzee had the unique pleasure of watching cold rage flash across her face. Her brow furrowed, and she exposed her teeth in a snarl.
Snapping a lethal gaze at Sig, Cora raised her cuffed hand as icy tendrils threaded together. A gleaming ice pistol formed in her iron grip, and she fired a round off near his head. It wasn't as loud or strong as a gun made of metal, but she hoped it'd cause some uncomfortable ringing in his ears. Maybe he'd get Tinitus, that bastard. Quick as it formed, Cora dispersed the gun back into thin air.
"Guns? Pah. My short time slaving at a weapons factory gave me an intimate knowledge of certain guns, among other awful shit; we do not need their guns. What we need is food. Almost everyone here hasn't eaten in two days, myself included." Cora said, her voice surprisingly restrained despite the venom in her eyes. Almost on cue, her stomach gave a lamenting growl. Cora ignored it.
She glanced at Will and Phil. "Tell me what city you chose. We need to go."
"Earth Hygron, whatever your name is," Cora appraised him again with ice-gray eyes. Her frustration had boiled off, now she just looked tired. Well, tired and starved. "You have a choice, as we all do. You can come with us, or walk the day-or-so journey to the furthest military camp on the map on your own."
"Just so I can prove my point," She presented this question to everyone listening. "Does anyone want to travel with the Earth Hygron to the camp by Dalton?"
Yahtzee had directed the question to her, and she was moments from answering. Instead, Yahtzee had the unique pleasure of watching cold rage flash across her face. Her brow furrowed, and she exposed her teeth in a snarl.
Snapping a lethal gaze at Sig, Cora raised her cuffed hand as icy tendrils threaded together. A gleaming ice pistol formed in her iron grip, and she fired a round off near his head. It wasn't as loud or strong as a gun made of metal, but she hoped it'd cause some uncomfortable ringing in his ears. Maybe he'd get Tinitus, that bastard. Quick as it formed, Cora dispersed the gun back into thin air.
"Guns? Pah. My short time slaving at a weapons factory gave me an intimate knowledge of certain guns, among other awful shit; we do not need their guns. What we need is food. Almost everyone here hasn't eaten in two days, myself included." Cora said, her voice surprisingly restrained despite the venom in her eyes. Almost on cue, her stomach gave a lamenting growl. Cora ignored it.
She glanced at Will and Phil. "Tell me what city you chose. We need to go."
"Earth Hygron, whatever your name is," Cora appraised him again with ice-gray eyes. Her frustration had boiled off, now she just looked tired. Well, tired and starved. "You have a choice, as we all do. You can come with us, or walk the day-or-so journey to the furthest military camp on the map on your own."
"Just so I can prove my point," She presented this question to everyone listening. "Does anyone want to travel with the Earth Hygron to the camp by Dalton?"
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