I haven't the foggiest idea, actually. It was really busy for like, a week, and then they all spontaneously left.
They were probably sent to Edolas
I mean, yeah they just sort of disappeared.
I'll try and get a post up soon. I love how squeamishly gullible Vocalia and Tim are c:
--I don't know what I want for my Avatar. I'll figure something out. Prolly just going to get a picture of Fisk, like i had on old and temp guild.
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Solace said
You put Armin as your character's name in your post. Unless I missed a lot more than I thought, it's Silas. XD
FUCK YEAH I GOT CONFUSED SORRY
I was thinking about a different roleplay while I was writing.
Did I do something wrong? ;A;
I apologize for the double post, but
Hi everyone c:
Hi everyone c:
what
Silas couldn’t piece together what was going on. In one moment, he had gone from having a very good audience room to what sounded like the greatest softcore porn ever, to the noise of—Wait, fighting? Maybe a brawl started in the lobby. Or a fire?
Frustrated with himself, Silas conked himself on the forehead with his hand. Of course it wasn’t a fire, it sounded like battle. The clanking of iron, the sound of hissing wind and screeching beasts…
Silas stood up and cast away his peasant clothes, his armor being underneath it the whole time. He’d tucked the raggedy beige tunic under his scarf and couldn’t remove it, and with a frustrated swipe, he decided to let it stay there. What’s the worst a cape could do to him besides make him look cool, right? Grabbing his bow from his back, he took another quick look around the room, to see a bucket full of water. His eyes shifted back and forth, as though someone were watching, and quickly snatched it before leaving and shutting the door behind him. Maybe it was a really really weird fire.
“Ah crud, this isn’t a fire..” Silas lamented, his eyes right with fear. He looked on at the scene, as it looked as though he’d missed an entire army’s worth of corpses in this fight. Desperately, he looked around, looking for a familiar face. He couldn’t fight, not alone. He need someone—someone he knew was friendly. Even as he held his bow in his hand, his arm quivered. He had no experience with battles, and now he’s in this mosh pit of morbid violence and death. Silas ran outside, the bucket of water he was holding spilling slightly. He’d stumbled next to Talbot, although his focus was all spent on trying to fathom the chaos of this scene. “I don’t… I don’t know what to…” He whimpered, taking another look around. He didn’t end up looking Talbot’s way, however, as he caught sight of Ambra, not far off. His eyes went flush with concern and fear, seeing her head bludgeoned and bleeding. He’d seen someone come behind where she had been laying, and instinct kicked in. He dropped the bucket of water onto the ground, and dashed madly in Ambra’s direction. He didn’t know where to begin with the fight, but he’ll be damned if he didn’t try to save a friend.
Soon enough, Silas had reached the scene. His mind flashed to before, when Ambra had been sprawled on the ground, threatened by Zaino. This time, he would be quicker to the draw. Bow and arrow primed, he stared down at who he had assumed was assaulting her. Only a few moments after he’d arrived, though, his intense gaze softened, and he lowered his bow.
’ Are you hurt? If you need assistance, let me know. I can bring you indoors and bandage that wound for you.’
Shaken, he returned his arrow to its quiver, dropping his bow and kneeling down. Abandoning all of his aggression, he looked to the man, and then to Ambra. “I’m sorry, I… I thought you were going to…” Casting his gaze sideways, Armin slowly collected himself again. “Please don’t hold that moment there against me, I thought you had different intents for her..”
His composure regained, Silas sighed. He hadn’t the courage to pick a fight in the front, quite yet, so the least he could do was help his friend like he meant to. He knelt down in front of Ambra, trying to make sure she wouldn’t strain herself to look to him. “Stay still, okay, Ambra?” He spoke softly, taking a quick, wary glance to the other man before looking back to his friend. “It’s going to be alright, we’re going to help you.”
Frustrated with himself, Silas conked himself on the forehead with his hand. Of course it wasn’t a fire, it sounded like battle. The clanking of iron, the sound of hissing wind and screeching beasts…
Silas stood up and cast away his peasant clothes, his armor being underneath it the whole time. He’d tucked the raggedy beige tunic under his scarf and couldn’t remove it, and with a frustrated swipe, he decided to let it stay there. What’s the worst a cape could do to him besides make him look cool, right? Grabbing his bow from his back, he took another quick look around the room, to see a bucket full of water. His eyes shifted back and forth, as though someone were watching, and quickly snatched it before leaving and shutting the door behind him. Maybe it was a really really weird fire.
“Ah crud, this isn’t a fire..” Silas lamented, his eyes right with fear. He looked on at the scene, as it looked as though he’d missed an entire army’s worth of corpses in this fight. Desperately, he looked around, looking for a familiar face. He couldn’t fight, not alone. He need someone—someone he knew was friendly. Even as he held his bow in his hand, his arm quivered. He had no experience with battles, and now he’s in this mosh pit of morbid violence and death. Silas ran outside, the bucket of water he was holding spilling slightly. He’d stumbled next to Talbot, although his focus was all spent on trying to fathom the chaos of this scene. “I don’t… I don’t know what to…” He whimpered, taking another look around. He didn’t end up looking Talbot’s way, however, as he caught sight of Ambra, not far off. His eyes went flush with concern and fear, seeing her head bludgeoned and bleeding. He’d seen someone come behind where she had been laying, and instinct kicked in. He dropped the bucket of water onto the ground, and dashed madly in Ambra’s direction. He didn’t know where to begin with the fight, but he’ll be damned if he didn’t try to save a friend.
Soon enough, Silas had reached the scene. His mind flashed to before, when Ambra had been sprawled on the ground, threatened by Zaino. This time, he would be quicker to the draw. Bow and arrow primed, he stared down at who he had assumed was assaulting her. Only a few moments after he’d arrived, though, his intense gaze softened, and he lowered his bow.
’ Are you hurt? If you need assistance, let me know. I can bring you indoors and bandage that wound for you.’
Shaken, he returned his arrow to its quiver, dropping his bow and kneeling down. Abandoning all of his aggression, he looked to the man, and then to Ambra. “I’m sorry, I… I thought you were going to…” Casting his gaze sideways, Armin slowly collected himself again. “Please don’t hold that moment there against me, I thought you had different intents for her..”
His composure regained, Silas sighed. He hadn’t the courage to pick a fight in the front, quite yet, so the least he could do was help his friend like he meant to. He knelt down in front of Ambra, trying to make sure she wouldn’t strain herself to look to him. “Stay still, okay, Ambra?” He spoke softly, taking a quick, wary glance to the other man before looking back to his friend. “It’s going to be alright, we’re going to help you.”
oh good, an excuse to shamelessly promote it c:
http://blog.dota2.com/?l=english
It's like my favorite game oh gosh
http://blog.dota2.com/?l=english
It's like my favorite game oh gosh
Y'know, Dota 2.
If you were confused about the :u, that's just a face I like to use. I... Don't know what it's supposed to express.
If you were confused about the :u, that's just a face I like to use. I... Don't know what it's supposed to express.
“Live capture, you say?” Fisk asked with an excited look in his eyes. “I’m sure glad you picked that one, now!”
At Aura’s second remark, however, Fisk gave to a more worrisome expression. “…Ah, well, I know Armin went ahead to look for her, but he isn’t back yet. Usually he’s quick about this kind of thing.” Scratching his head, Fisk shrugged. Not soon after he mentioned Armin, Dia herself showed up, with Armin trailing all sick-like behind her. She gave her typical speech about damages, but Fisk payed no heed. sure, the last job he went on ended up with a sandstone town converted entirely to glass, but that wasn’t his fault! The bandits just had a nasty habit of… You know… Hiding. Embarrassed as he recalled what a mess he’d made of things there, he remembered Armin made sure to shove all the blame onto his host.
--Ah, Armin, right, Fisk recalled as he hurried over to his friend, hunched over one of the tables. If anyone didn’t know better, they’d think he was green because he’s sick. “Good god, what happened to you?!” Fisk exclaimed, patting Armin on the back.
Exhaling a sickly gasp of air, Armin raised his head, like one would look for vultures when they’re certain of death. His eyes had a vacant look while he barely managed to lock eyes with his host. He rasped quietly, his tone barely audible. “Ria… Magic Sickness… Stench… gnnh…”
Fisk’s concern melted into a cocky grin. He jokingly slapped Armin’s back, resulting in a gag reflex. “Hah! Serves you right for sticking your nose where you shouldn’t. If you need a rest, just tell me, alright?” Fisk roared, relishing the few moments where he could laugh at his snarky friend. The two exchanged understanding nods, and Fisk returned to the little group. He snaked his way back into the makeshift circle they’d made around the job board, glad that Dia ended up finding them despite Armin’s condition.
“…Sooo, before you leave, Master, do you think you could do these two greenhorns a favor and brand ‘em with the old cattle iron?” He joked casually, almost displaying Tim and Vocalia with hand motions.
At Aura’s second remark, however, Fisk gave to a more worrisome expression. “…Ah, well, I know Armin went ahead to look for her, but he isn’t back yet. Usually he’s quick about this kind of thing.” Scratching his head, Fisk shrugged. Not soon after he mentioned Armin, Dia herself showed up, with Armin trailing all sick-like behind her. She gave her typical speech about damages, but Fisk payed no heed. sure, the last job he went on ended up with a sandstone town converted entirely to glass, but that wasn’t his fault! The bandits just had a nasty habit of… You know… Hiding. Embarrassed as he recalled what a mess he’d made of things there, he remembered Armin made sure to shove all the blame onto his host.
--Ah, Armin, right, Fisk recalled as he hurried over to his friend, hunched over one of the tables. If anyone didn’t know better, they’d think he was green because he’s sick. “Good god, what happened to you?!” Fisk exclaimed, patting Armin on the back.
Exhaling a sickly gasp of air, Armin raised his head, like one would look for vultures when they’re certain of death. His eyes had a vacant look while he barely managed to lock eyes with his host. He rasped quietly, his tone barely audible. “Ria… Magic Sickness… Stench… gnnh…”
Fisk’s concern melted into a cocky grin. He jokingly slapped Armin’s back, resulting in a gag reflex. “Hah! Serves you right for sticking your nose where you shouldn’t. If you need a rest, just tell me, alright?” Fisk roared, relishing the few moments where he could laugh at his snarky friend. The two exchanged understanding nods, and Fisk returned to the little group. He snaked his way back into the makeshift circle they’d made around the job board, glad that Dia ended up finding them despite Armin’s condition.
“…Sooo, before you leave, Master, do you think you could do these two greenhorns a favor and brand ‘em with the old cattle iron?” He joked casually, almost displaying Tim and Vocalia with hand motions.
I've been playing a lot of dota 2 :u
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