Flightless_Soul

Forever Fall

[/REDACTED]

Forever Fall

@Azure Flame
(Insert nonsensical argument on why I don't follow the rules here)

ALERT: Argument.exe failed to load. Just follow the damn rules and quit being an ass.

Gawd dammit! -_-

Forever Fall

(Insert CS here)

A Funny Thing Happened on the way to Helgen [Fallout/Skyrim Crossover]

Let's cut the bullshit and get down to the biz, shall we?

Name's Flightless, or Flight, or whatever nickname you come up with. As of now, I'm unemployed and bored as fuck. I've been on the RP circuit for some time, so I know a bit about writing and the do's and don'ts...sorta. I tend to play female characters more than I do males, but from time to time I'll switch it up and play male. It should also be known that I'm crazy and have the mental capacity of a squirrel on meth. So if I go off the rails, please for the good of all mankind, please slap me. Anywho...

What I expect from YOU as a writer!

Uh...to write! What else, dildo?

However, I do expect you to at least have a proper understanding of spelling and grammar, and for fuck sakes, NO TEXT SPEAK! I'm running out of places to bury people because of that shit. Now where was I? Oh!

No, I don't expect you to write a fifty page novel, but at least a paragraph. I don't really care how much you type. Just at least give me something to work with. God, that was contradictory... Also, I know other people out there have jobs, school, a life, a gimp to wash, etc. So if you flake you flake. We go our seperate ways and I cry myself to sleep listening to sad indie music. No worries. No, I know you weren't bored to death. It's cool, really.

However, if you do decide to stay on board because of my ability to craft shit amazing stories, then pat ypurself on the back for putting up with me and gimme about maybe two to three posts per week or more if you're inclined.

Anyways, I think I've breathed enough air for now. Lets get to the plot idea.

---

Clicky

"They said it couldn't be done, but I'll show those fools!"

---

"At last! It's finished! I'll admit, it took every nut, bolt, and fusion core in the Wastelamd, but I finally made it! My very own Intermolecular Teleportation Device! Now I can go anywhere I please with just the push of a button! Hell, maybe this thing could even take me back in time! What do ya think, ED-E?"

The quirky blonde gave a beaming smile as she pulled off her welding goggles and unzipped her jumpsuit suit a little. It was starting to stick to her skin with all the sweat worked up by her hard labor. "Ahh...much better!" She sighed with relief.



The little eyebot buzzed around the teleporter then landed beside her with a few low beeps emitted.

(Translation: I really think you drank too much Nuka-Cola. Does this thing even work?)

The blonde laughed patting the robot's metal frame, "Bah! Of course it works, dummy! I just haven't field tested it yet, but today's the day! Oh! That reminds me! I gotta record this in my log!" Excitedly she hopped in her ratty, old office chair and swiveled around to her desk, pressing a button on her teeminal.

"Ahem! Moira Jameson here! Day um... What day is this, Ed-E?"

Ed-E gave another series of low beeps.

(Translation: I was right. Your brain is fried! You don't even know what day it is anymore!)

"Ugh! You're no help!" Moira grumbled and resumed recording. "Anywho uh...who cares what day it is! My journey across the Mojave was totally worth it! Sadly, I didn't strike it rich in Vegas, but I finally gathered enough materials to complete my masterpiece! My very own Teleportation Device! I can't wait to see this baby in action! Just think of all the amazing places it'll take me! I'll admit, this first test may not go so well, but that's the breaks of discovery, right? Anywho, time to fire this baby up and get this show on the road! Wish me luck! Ok, end transmission... Ugh! I said END you stupid-! Oh...right. I have to push the button."

*click*

It was time. Moira whirled around her in her chair giddy with laughter...insane laughter in Ed-E's opinion. "Okay Ed-E! Start it up!"

Slowly the robot hovered over to the device's control panel, another retort of berps and clicks as it pressed a few buttons and the machine came to life in a dazzling array of flashing lights and electrical sparks!

(Translation: Yep, you're definitely crazy!)

Moira hopped into the main chamber, a fond wave to her friend. "Well, this is farewell, for now my little rust bucket! See you when I get back! WOOHOO!"

In a blinding flash, Moira vanished before the robot. Ed-E floated around for a moment, a blank stare towards the scorch mark where the machine once stood.

Then he realized... Does she even know how to get back?

---

"Whoooooaaaa!"

Within seconds of leaving her bunker in the dry and arrid Mojave Wasteland, Moira found herself plummeting through the sky, high over a land of tall, majestic mountains covered with snow, and lush, green forests of coniferous trees.

It worked! Oh fuck yes! It worked!! YES! I am such a genius! That'll show those bastards I'm more than just some lazy tinkerer! Ha! Take THAT, Elder McNamara! W-wait...I'm still falling! OH NOOOOO!!!

*SLAM!*

She landed smack dab on the ground, her face buried in something wet...warm...and foul smelling.

"Ugh...oww...my head...my arms...my boobs...everything hurts..." Moira groaned, her vision blurry, her mind in a daze as she lifted her head off the ground. The mysterious substance was still caked on her face as she rose. What was it? The answer was clear when she heard a neigh...and found a horse's ass in front of her.

"AUUUGH!! EWW! EWWW! EWWWW!" Frantically she wiped clobs of dung from her face, about to gag from the wretched stench. "Awww..." She sighed gruffly. "Why do my inventions always land me in a pile of shit? Huh?" Suddenly she gasped. Her eyes widened in awe of the scenery, the beauty of nature completely restored before her. "It's...it's beautiful! So this is how the world looked before the war! I can't wait to-"

*SHING!*

"Uh-oh!" Immediately she turned pale.



"On your feet, Stormcloak!"

There were hundreds of them, men clad in armor similar to Roman soldiers, drawing blades to her scrawny neck. Moira had only one assumption as to who they were.

Aww fuck me! It's the Legion! Knew I should've brought my plasma rifle! Well, looks like it's off to the slave pits for me. I just hope they'll be gentle with my fragile body. I'm still a virgin!

"Uh....H-hi there!" She waved at them giving a goofy grin. "So um...I'm guessing you guys probably don't know, but is there a shower around here? I really need to get this horse shit off my face and-"

"I said on your feet, Stormcloak! Now!" The lead soldier barked again pressing his sword deeper into her neck. She could practically feel the cold steel biting into her skin.

"Okay! Okay!" She panicked slowly rising to her feet as ordered, her hands held up in defense. "I'll come with you peacefully, but I have like no idea what you're saying. Stormcloak...is that some kind of raider tribe? They got a cool name, yeah, but I'm not a-"

"Oh for Arkay's sake! Someone shut her up!"

"Hey you jackass! That's no way to speak to a wom-"

*THWACK!*

"Owwie..."

All it took was a pommel to the back of the head and Moira hit the ground, out cold. The soldiers surrounded her and bound her wrists.

"Just who in the name of the Divines is this woman, Legate?" A soldier asked his commander.

"I've not the faintest idea, soldier." The Legate replied, his brow furrowed as he glared down at the unconcious woman. "But she can join the rest. Get her on the cart. We've a long journey to Helgen."

---

So the story is this. Moira is captured and taken to Helgen, where she meets you, the Dragonborn. After Alduin attacks, the Dragonborn helps Moira escape and unfortunately becomes stuck with her throughout the journey.

"Pyrrhic" A Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy RP

Too...much...reading...@_@ *dies*

This does look cool, but I think I'mma sit this out. My brain is not wired to type this much.

One Stop Shop for What (18+, Mature, MxF, All of the Wot)(can double)

@Metadude I would definitely be up for a Fallout/Skyrim crossover if you're interested.

Tales of Roaming Wanderers

---

---

Full Name: Saeras Greywulf
Nickname: (None)
Age: 25 Winters Old

Height: 5'4"
Weight: 142 lbs
Hair Color and Style: Long, braided brown hair

Other Appearance Traits:
Saeras is of average shape and breast size with a slight hourglass curve to her figure. Her crystaline eyes are accented by her dark war paint on her face, as is customary in her village when a child comes of age to be a hunter. She has two claw marks on her left cheek from where a bear had attacked her while she was hunting and another on her thigh from when she fell from a cliff and skewered her leg on a sharp branch.

Saeras wears little to no armor either, as she prefers mobility over protection. If she must, she wears a cuirass made of boiled, hardened leather and fur, fur lined leather armbands and greaves to protect her shins. All this is usually worn over a hooded forest green tunic with a dark brown long sleeved shirt and leggings underneath.

---

Skills and Abilities:

-Maksmanship: Years of hunting and defending her village from hostile tribes has made Saeras into an efficient and deadly archer. She could pin a bird by its wing from yards away, but that's not to say sometimes she does miss her mark. Even so, she has the eyes of an eagle and can swiftly deliver an arrow down range.

-Stealth: When hunting their prey, one must be as the predator. Saeras has learned over the years to move quietly and to be unseen. She is proficient in stalking her prey and using both shadow and natural foliage to her advantage. These skills also came in handy for ambushing enemies in the forest.

-Tracking: As any hunter, Saeras can track her prey easily by any sign they leave, whether it be footprints, broken branches, sound, smell, etc.

Disabilities:

-Uneducated: Growing up solely among her tribe, Saeras does not speak nor understand any other language than her own. She also cannot read or write.

-Unprotected: Wearing virtually no armor at all means she is more vulnerable to any attack. Hence she prefers to take enemies by surprise than face them head on.

---

Hobbies:

-Cooking: Well you can't just eat venison raw. Saeras will admit it is more out of survival than recreation, but she does enjoy it. The smell of roasted venison and vegetables simmering in a hearty pot of stew warms her soul and brings her solace when she is troubled.

-Music: On nights when she was alone in the forest, her ocarina kept her company. She would play a tune upon it to keep her mind at ease and not go crazy from either the frigid cold or the lack of human companionship, as hunting tended to take her miles away from her home.

---

History:

m.youtube.com/watch?v=OEE5NYn6GyI

Saeras hails from the far north from a tribe of hunters and gatherers who lived in the snowy pine forests. Her mother was frail and weak when she gave birth. It was no surprise to any she would die. Her father was left then to raise her. One of the village's hunters, he trained his daughter in the ways of the predator. He taught her how to draw a bow and make every arrow count and how to stalk her prey and become a ghost in the wild. He was a harsh but fair teacher, and under his wing Saeras grew to be a hunter herself.

Life was hard in the north. Food was often scarce, and if the bitter cold or hungry predators didn't kill you, the other tribes would. Saeras' tribe had been involved in many bloody conflicts over the years. The surrounding tribes often attacked them, trying to wrestle their territory. By her early teens, Saeras had killed both man and beast. She was not adept in the way of sword or axe as her other tribesmen, but her bow saved her life countless times on the battlefields of bloodstained snow, as did her knowledge of camouflage.

A few winters had passed, taking her father along with them. Years of conflict and bloodshed had left its mark on her people. Slowly, her tribe was dying. It seemed each day that passed, a loved one had to be buried. The constant warfare had driven away the animals of the forest, their only source of food during the hard snowy season, and left the trees barren of their ripened fruits. Saeras knew these were the end days of her tribe, and rather than endure the pain of seeing her people wither away...she simply left...with hopes of one day bringing an end to her people's suffering.

Years went on. She had traveled the land far and wide, with only her bow and her ocarina. She had seen how other people had prospered and were fruitful. In short, it made her envious and mournful of her tribe's stubborn will. She knew they would refuse to move. It was the land of their ancestors, the forest and the mountains, but the land was barren now and gave nothing to them.

It was upon standing on a hill overlooking a flourishing hamlet...that Saeras wept. She wept for her people, who she knew when she returned...would no longer be there... It was not the cold nor the starving that brought them to an end...but their own foolishness.

There was no point in returning, and so, she tarried down the hill and began life anew.

Tales of Roaming Wanderers

@MissCapnCrunch I love her already!

Tales of Roaming Wanderers

*cough*

My Character

---

---

Full Name: Saeras Greywulf
Nickname: (None)
Age: 25 Winters Old

Height: 5'4"
Weight: 142 lbs
Hair Color and Style: Long, braided brown hair

Other Appearance Traits:
Saeras is of average shape and breast size with a slight hourglass curve to her figure. Her crystaline eyes are accented by her dark war paint on her face, as is customary in her village when a child comes of age to be a hunter. She has two claw marks on her left cheek from where a bear had attacked her while she was hunting and another on her thigh from when she fell from a cliff and skewered her leg on a sharp branch.

Saeras wears little to no armor either, as she prefers mobility over protection. If she must, she wears a cuirass made of boiled, hardened leather and fur, fur lined leather armbands and greaves to protect her shins. All this is usually worn over a hooded forest green tunic with a dark brown long sleeved shirt and leggings underneath.

---

Skills and Abilities:

-Maksmanship: Years of hunting and defending her village from hostile tribes has made Saeras into an efficient and deadly archer. She could pin a bird by its wing from yards away, but that's not to say sometimes she does miss her mark. Even so, she has the eyes of an eagle and can swiftly deliver an arrow down range.

-Stealth: When hunting their prey, one must be as the predator. Saeras has learned over the years to move quietly and to be unseen. She is proficient in stalking her prey and using both shadow and natural foliage to her advantage. These skills also came in handy for ambushing enemies in the forest.

-Tracking: As any hunter, Saeras can track her prey easily by any sign they leave, whether it be footprints, broken branches, sound, smell, etc.

Disabilities:

-Uneducated: Growing up solely among her tribe, Saeras does not speak nor understand any other language than her own. She also cannot read or write.

-Unprotected: Wearing virtually no armor at all means she is more vulnerable to any attack. Hence she prefers to take enemies by surprise than face them head on.

---

Hobbies:

-Cooking: Well you can't just eat venison raw. Saeras will admit it is more out of survival than recreation, but she does enjoy it. The smell of roasted venison and vegetables simmering in a hearty pot of stew warms her soul and brings her solace when she is troubled.

-Music: On nights when she was alone in the forest, her ocarina kept her company. She would play a tune upon it to keep her mind at ease and not go crazy from either the frigid cold or the lack of human companionship, as hunting tended to take her miles away from her home.

---

History:

m.youtube.com/watch?v=OEE5NYn6GyI

Saeras hails from the far north from a tribe of hunters and gatherers who lived in the snowy pine forests. Her mother was frail and weak when she gave birth. It was no surprise to any she would die. Her father was left then to raise her. One of the village's hunters, he trained his daughter in the ways of the predator. He taught her how to draw a bow and make every arrow count and how to stalk her prey and become a ghost in the wild. He was a harsh but fair teacher, and under his wing Saeras grew to be a hunter herself.

Life was hard in the north. Food was often scarce, and if the bitter cold or hungry predators didn't kill you, the other tribes would. Saeras' tribe had been involved in many bloody conflicts over the years. The surrounding tribes often attacked them, trying to wrestle their territory. By her early teens, Saeras had killed both man and beast. She was not adept in the way of sword or axe as her other tribesmen, but her bow saved her life countless times on the battlefields of bloodstained snow, as did her knowledge of camouflage.

A few winters had passed, taking her father along with them. Years of conflict and bloodshed had left its mark on her people. Slowly, her tribe was dying. It seemed each day that passed, a loved one had to be buried. The constant warfare had driven away the animals of the forest, their only source of food during the hard snowy season, and left the trees barren of their ripened fruits. Saeras knew these were the end days of her tribe, and rather than endure the pain of seeing her people wither away...she simply left...with hopes of one day bringing an end to her people's suffering.

Years went on. She had traveled the land far and wide, with only her bow and her ocarina. She had seen how other people had prospered and were fruitful. In short, it made her envious and mournful of her tribe's stubborn will. She knew they would refuse to move. It was the land of their ancestors, the forest and the mountains, but the land was barren now and gave nothing to them.

It was upon standing on a hill overlooking a flourishing hamlet...that Saeras wept. She wept for her people, who she knew when she returned...would no longer be there... It was not the cold nor the starving that brought them to an end...but their own foolishness.

There was no point in returning, and so, she tarried down the hill and began life anew.

Current Mood in One Gif

>> TFW Your family wants YOU to make the Christmas dinner this year. I can barely afford fucking Spam!