Member
I'm interested, and about 90% of the way to being ready to fully commit to this. And really, it's only coming down to whether or not I'm happy with coming up with a character idea. So I'm working on a CS now!
- Last Seen: 8 yrs ago
- Joined: 10 yrs ago
- Posts: 195 (0.05 / day)
- VMs: 2
-
Username history
- fluorescent 10 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
8 yrs ago
Current
whoa
10 yrs ago
@Guess Who you're a lifesaver. i just looked it up and i think bread can be brought on planes, and life is good again. bless you.
1
like
10 yrs ago
THE BREAD IS GONNA GO STALE AND I'LL HAVE WASTED LIKE FOUR BUCKS FOR NOTHING. WHAT AM I DOIGN WITH MY LIFE FREAKING OUT ABOUT BREAD AT 5 IN THE MORNIGN
1
like
10 yrs ago
i bought a fucking loaf of bread today, and i was super excited about it and everything. then i fucking realized that my girlfriend and i are going on vacation in two days so WHO'S GONNA EAT THE BREAD
1
like
10 yrs ago
@Nevix it seems that way. normally it's all cool and i love this place too, but sometimes something peeves me off, yknow? s'all good though, i'll get over it in like five minutes and be back to lovin.
1
like
Bio
Call me Flo if fluorescent's too much! (I've also been called Flur, which is cool, too!) If it's Bioware-related, space-related, or hella gay, I probably love it. I'm also basically an Elementary fanatic at this point, and for some reason I have a thing for basketball.
I'm pansexual and agender; feel free to ask me about it, as I'm open to discussing my gender identity and sexual orientation, but don't be a dick. I'm here to enjoy myself, not to field rude questions. Anyways, that means I would like it if you referred to me with they/them pronouns. If that bothers or upsets you, don't refer to me at all.
But at the end of the day, I'm just here to have a good time! I love writing and it's something I've been doing on the side for the last six or seven years, and I've even taken a couple classes focused on writing in college. So let's get to it, then!
I'm pansexual and agender; feel free to ask me about it, as I'm open to discussing my gender identity and sexual orientation, but don't be a dick. I'm here to enjoy myself, not to field rude questions. Anyways, that means I would like it if you referred to me with they/them pronouns. If that bothers or upsets you, don't refer to me at all.
But at the end of the day, I'm just here to have a good time! I love writing and it's something I've been doing on the side for the last six or seven years, and I've even taken a couple classes focused on writing in college. So let's get to it, then!
Most Recent Posts
@Doc Doctor@Xandrya
Graffiti stood her ground, unflinching as her weapon disintegrated before her eyes. Shrapnel bounced off the plastic shield of the gas mask covering her eyes, reverberating loudly in her ears. Being without a pistol didn't completely disarm Graffiti, but she was outgunned, and it would take an inhuman leap to close the current distance to her newest foe in order to properly defend herself. Her pistol rendered useless, she raised both her arms above her shoulders and let the pistol drop.
"Alright, you've got my attention," Graffiti snarled, unsuccessfully masking her bitterness over losing her weapon. Her pistol meant a lot to her; it was the first weapon she had stolen in Ankora, though many had followed since. Whether or not Mafia Gump replaced her weapon, there was no replacing the sentimental value lost.
In any case, now finding herself at a serious disadvantage, Graffiti had all the more reason to consider alternative options. Her eyes slowly surveyed the rooftop, planning escape routes or taking note of anything that could be useful in a fight. There wasn't much; the short wall surrounding the edge of the rooftop offered a few possibilities in hand-to-hand combat, and there were a few cement bricks lying around that she could wield, should she have to. As for escape... not much better. The rooftops were largely bare in every direction, save for a few air conditioning units and rooftop access doors for staircases. Much to her chagrin, Graffiti found herself without the upper hand, waiting to see how this would play out yet again.
Graffiti could've sworn she caught movement just outside her peripheral vision, but she wasn't about to risk turning her head away from someone with a gun with that kind of stopping power.
"So, the Red Claw, hm? Got a grudge worth sharing? Or are you here to tell me you two have been best buds since the third grade?" A part of her knew that sarcasm was an unnecessary risk to be taking, but Graffiti just couldn't help herself. The snark train just never stopped rolling.
Graffiti stood her ground, unflinching as her weapon disintegrated before her eyes. Shrapnel bounced off the plastic shield of the gas mask covering her eyes, reverberating loudly in her ears. Being without a pistol didn't completely disarm Graffiti, but she was outgunned, and it would take an inhuman leap to close the current distance to her newest foe in order to properly defend herself. Her pistol rendered useless, she raised both her arms above her shoulders and let the pistol drop.
"Alright, you've got my attention," Graffiti snarled, unsuccessfully masking her bitterness over losing her weapon. Her pistol meant a lot to her; it was the first weapon she had stolen in Ankora, though many had followed since. Whether or not Mafia Gump replaced her weapon, there was no replacing the sentimental value lost.
In any case, now finding herself at a serious disadvantage, Graffiti had all the more reason to consider alternative options. Her eyes slowly surveyed the rooftop, planning escape routes or taking note of anything that could be useful in a fight. There wasn't much; the short wall surrounding the edge of the rooftop offered a few possibilities in hand-to-hand combat, and there were a few cement bricks lying around that she could wield, should she have to. As for escape... not much better. The rooftops were largely bare in every direction, save for a few air conditioning units and rooftop access doors for staircases. Much to her chagrin, Graffiti found herself without the upper hand, waiting to see how this would play out yet again.
Graffiti could've sworn she caught movement just outside her peripheral vision, but she wasn't about to risk turning her head away from someone with a gun with that kind of stopping power.
"So, the Red Claw, hm? Got a grudge worth sharing? Or are you here to tell me you two have been best buds since the third grade?" A part of her knew that sarcasm was an unnecessary risk to be taking, but Graffiti just couldn't help herself. The snark train just never stopped rolling.
<Snipped quote by Nevix>
I don't think we need a reboot. It appears as if we only lost one person so it really doesn't seem necessary to me.
Agreed; something to kickstart everyone's involvement is all we really need. We can just continue from here with the "less sloppily" approach. Villains are good at that, or in this setting, the government could fit that bill, if nothing else.
@Doc Doctor
Graffiti jumped from where she sat, drawing her pistol and aiming it at the man approaching her. She wasn't sure, but it seemed like the same guy that she had spotted from the corner of her eye before on the street - though without the extra head, this time. She took a moment to size him up; everything about the guy screamed total sleazeball. Her finger moved to the trigger of her gun as the man extended his fist, but relaxed as he slowly turned it into a point.
The dialect was difficult to understand, but Graffiti picked up enough to know what was said. "Don't know what you find so interesting with me, friend. Seems to me we aren't the types to get along too well," Graffiti retorted, lowering her weapon slightly. She studied his face with intent, hoping to find some information on him later on if she had the chance. "If you want to talk, then talk. Otherwise, I'm on my way out of here."
Graffiti jumped from where she sat, drawing her pistol and aiming it at the man approaching her. She wasn't sure, but it seemed like the same guy that she had spotted from the corner of her eye before on the street - though without the extra head, this time. She took a moment to size him up; everything about the guy screamed total sleazeball. Her finger moved to the trigger of her gun as the man extended his fist, but relaxed as he slowly turned it into a point.
The dialect was difficult to understand, but Graffiti picked up enough to know what was said. "Don't know what you find so interesting with me, friend. Seems to me we aren't the types to get along too well," Graffiti retorted, lowering her weapon slightly. She studied his face with intent, hoping to find some information on him later on if she had the chance. "If you want to talk, then talk. Otherwise, I'm on my way out of here."
@Doc Doctor Sounds good!
@Leslie Hall@LokiLeo789@Space Boyfriend
As Jannali looked for the Manalo plants, she watched Yala carefully apply paint to Tobu's skin out of the corner of her eye. She caught Tobu sending a few awkward smiles towards Yala. Tobu seemed to think his status as an Akit'r kept others from wanting to socialize with him, but Jannali was of the opinion that it was Tobu's arrogance and ego kept him from really connecting with others in the tribe. Not that she was any better; her meekness didn't do her any favors when it came to socializing.
Jannali jumped as Kwelek nudged her shoulder for her attention; it was a gentle nudge, but she had been so lost in her own thoughts as she prepared for the day. It took her a moment to catch up to the young man's hasty words, but the journal he had caught her eye and brought her up to speed immediately. She opened her mouth to speak, when Kwelek withdrew the journal, realizing his mistake in showing the journal out in the open and so close to the rest of the tribe. She grinned, knowing his hastiness and eagerness got the better of him yet again.
"That could be anything judging from the cover, Kwelek. Let me see it," Jannali snatched the journal from Kwelek's hand as he meekly hid it from Tobu and Yala. She flipped through the pages, looking for any hint as to its origins. The words meant nothing to her, but they reminded her of something she had seen the elders discussing once. "This is... old. I couldn't tell you more, unfortunately. None of it makes any sense to me," Jannali trailed off weakly. She looked at the journal intently as she considered what should be done with it.
Only one option made any sense. "We have to take this to the elders, Kwelek. I've heard them talking about something like this before, and they would know what to do with it." In hindsight, Jannali would have preferred Kwelek take the journal to them immediately, but it wasn't worth bringing that up now. What was done was done. They weren't likely to be upset, but Jannali couldn't help but fear the backlash when the elders discovered that Kwelek hadn't immediately brought the journal to them.
As Jannali looked for the Manalo plants, she watched Yala carefully apply paint to Tobu's skin out of the corner of her eye. She caught Tobu sending a few awkward smiles towards Yala. Tobu seemed to think his status as an Akit'r kept others from wanting to socialize with him, but Jannali was of the opinion that it was Tobu's arrogance and ego kept him from really connecting with others in the tribe. Not that she was any better; her meekness didn't do her any favors when it came to socializing.
Jannali jumped as Kwelek nudged her shoulder for her attention; it was a gentle nudge, but she had been so lost in her own thoughts as she prepared for the day. It took her a moment to catch up to the young man's hasty words, but the journal he had caught her eye and brought her up to speed immediately. She opened her mouth to speak, when Kwelek withdrew the journal, realizing his mistake in showing the journal out in the open and so close to the rest of the tribe. She grinned, knowing his hastiness and eagerness got the better of him yet again.
"That could be anything judging from the cover, Kwelek. Let me see it," Jannali snatched the journal from Kwelek's hand as he meekly hid it from Tobu and Yala. She flipped through the pages, looking for any hint as to its origins. The words meant nothing to her, but they reminded her of something she had seen the elders discussing once. "This is... old. I couldn't tell you more, unfortunately. None of it makes any sense to me," Jannali trailed off weakly. She looked at the journal intently as she considered what should be done with it.
Only one option made any sense. "We have to take this to the elders, Kwelek. I've heard them talking about something like this before, and they would know what to do with it." In hindsight, Jannali would have preferred Kwelek take the journal to them immediately, but it wasn't worth bringing that up now. What was done was done. They weren't likely to be upset, but Jannali couldn't help but fear the backlash when the elders discovered that Kwelek hadn't immediately brought the journal to them.
My CS has arrived!
@Doc Doctor In regards to your last post: I'm really sorry for the confusion, but Graffiti isn't in that group anymore! She jumped ship and is on a rooftop just a little bit away.
Still kicking here, as well!
© 2007-2026