@The Grey Dust
My eyes personally adore the inky commitment your digital words marry to virtual paper.
My eyes personally adore the inky commitment your digital words marry to virtual paper.
Gordian Nought Member
Tanto Monta
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icmasticc
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Bio
Sanity is not statistical.
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Half a score ago, writers and artists scurried online to mingle creative roots. Despite the desolation of the Fall, this guild blossomed into a vibrant forest, precipitously branching into thousands of stories and masterpieces, yet sewn into a beautiful tapestry, under this digital canopy, we all call, away from the endured seasons of real life:
Solace.
Age: 24
Gender: Phenotypically Female
Place of birth: Bresha, Cocoon
Brand location: Right heel/sole
Description: B.R.A.X.'s affinity to polar color schemes constantly trademarks her crisp attire, preferring the demarcating motif of a yin-yang miasma, rather than any splash of the rest of the wavelengths of the visible spectrum. When speaking, her diction normally suffers from no inflection, emotion, or prosody, unless she forces it awkwardly. Compounded with the bedazzled dress and veil to preserve her outward vanity, subconscious facial cues become non-existent in interrogation or diplomacy. Stilettos are often a must, to allow her to accentuate her 5' 7'' height. Her ironically multicolored, collapsible belt also can be manipulated into a large hula hoop, with additional aggressive features. B.R.A.X. can often times be found alone, rocking back and forth or finger tracing her wardrobe, while standing, when deep in thought or in pursuant of lengthy calculations.
Backstory/Personality.
B.R.A.X. was engineered for one purpose only.
To capture and handle Chocobos.
In the third epoch of automata created by Cid, Bresha demanded diverse breeds, sending these androids to harness the wildlife of the Font of Namva, all to their glorious advantage. Not for military gain though, but for entertainment value. The domesticated Cocoon variety birds rose in popularity as pets and as zoo attractions. The Gran Pulse diversity tends to be larger, bearing two lanky ear-like appendages dangling on either side of their heads. The longer the lobes, the cuter.
Once shipped across the void into the opposing planet, all of B.R.A.X.'s mechanical siblings were digitally initiated before their chambers' hatches were opened to Archylte Steppe. The first conscious thought B.R.A.X. possessed was, "This feels different." As she stood up and tested her various limbs, her automata brethren robotically filed out. Instead of following suit, she paced her chamber, back and forth for 42 seconds. That's when she noticed the empty salle and a hint of loneliness. Upon leaving the pod, B.R.A.X.'s processors struck upon an anomaly, "RETURN TO THE FORMATION." But... She didn't feel the need to listen. As she strayed away from the scattered entourage combatting against water-elementals, her metal corpus...
Began to...
Walk...
SSSLLLOOOOWWWWWLLLLYYYY...
Then. BAM! Pain began to register alarms.
Why would someone want to injure her? This must be a dangerous world, causing pain and agony must be the proper substitute for a handshake. She swiftly introduced herself to every Sahagin she met that day, with punches and kicks galore. As she realized theses aquatic sentinels loved to repeat these same courtesies to no end, an arrow pierced the back of her skull.
........
........
system reboot
........
initiating restart
.......
.......
01001001 01101110 01101001 01110100 01101001 01100001 01110100 01100101 00100000 01001101 01100101 01100011 01101000 01100001 01101110 01101001 01100011 01100001 01101100 00100000 01010101 01110100 01101001 01101100 01101001 01110100 01111001 00100000 01001100 01101001 01100110 01100101 01100110 01101111 01110010 01101101 01100001 01101110 01101001
.......
accessing memory
................
memory not found
re-attempting memory access
.................................................................................
memory unavailable
building new memory sector
............
............
restarting B.R.A.X. unit
............
She awoke on the Dead Dunes, with her motorized kindred littering the sands, apparently sunbathing while dismembered. Curious, she collected as many of her mech swarm, piling high in the desert, and constructed a homing beacon. Patience rewarded her with an unmanned space shuttle, emboldened with a mission to return any living automata and their splayed parts back to Cid, at Lake Bresha, to salvage.
HP: 4. STR: 4. MAG: 4.
Weapon: Glowing, collapsible Hula Hoop. Almost always thrown. Often returns in full swing.
Squad Role: Chocobo Handler.
Answer 1: Never have I ever played FF XIII, but let it be known that my heart is partial to villains.
Answer 2: 34.
The cabal of shadows had finally diminished into one last murky musketeer, surrounded by two heroes of light and a gnome, who called himself, Birbin. The why to which these shadows descended like a plague of locusts, aiming to sow discord and reap agony, all to harvest the prized flesh of one glitzy wizard, remained, sadly, labyrinthine.
”… regale us with a story of how you came to be chased by so many foes.”
The rationale still eluded Wick. These wispy voids would never disclose suffering nor duplicity, as they were abominating forces, only to reckon wrath upon, for the reincarnated librarian never witnessed any such adversary ever communicate with another, nor demand verbosity from their victims. Yet, they employed a foul sort of teamwork, fluently.
It was always extinguish or be finished ourselves.
Yet, the mage sage sensed a resurgent premonition during the skirmish, that the battle was already won before our first weapon was even drawn. Though, she routinely never underestimated the strength, brutality, or, for that matter, the stupidity of their enemies, never barring full-on aggression towards this ashen evil. Anger and peace, unexpectedly, meshed like a raging river, into her soul, to only plummet as a euphoric waterfall into a serene valley. This mixture of antithetical emotions were peculiar to the cleric, to which she reflexively shrugged off, as her boots took flight.
Dashing back into the fray, the warlock eventually locked eyes, with her socketless nemesis. Yelling one word, she sought to strike opportunity amongst her comrades in finishing this conflict. The issued command bellowed as part rallying cry, part sermon, and hopefully undeniable to their sole opponent, in garnering an undefended tornado of swipes from the adjacent trio.
”FLEE!”
And not retreat from confusion.
@Big Dread, @Cu Chulainn, @Hekazu, @JBRam2002, @Zverda,@The Harbinger of Ferocity
”… regale us with a story of how you came to be chased by so many foes.”
The rationale still eluded Wick. These wispy voids would never disclose suffering nor duplicity, as they were abominating forces, only to reckon wrath upon, for the reincarnated librarian never witnessed any such adversary ever communicate with another, nor demand verbosity from their victims. Yet, they employed a foul sort of teamwork, fluently.
It was always extinguish or be finished ourselves.
Yet, the mage sage sensed a resurgent premonition during the skirmish, that the battle was already won before our first weapon was even drawn. Though, she routinely never underestimated the strength, brutality, or, for that matter, the stupidity of their enemies, never barring full-on aggression towards this ashen evil. Anger and peace, unexpectedly, meshed like a raging river, into her soul, to only plummet as a euphoric waterfall into a serene valley. This mixture of antithetical emotions were peculiar to the cleric, to which she reflexively shrugged off, as her boots took flight.
Dashing back into the fray, the warlock eventually locked eyes, with her socketless nemesis. Yelling one word, she sought to strike opportunity amongst her comrades in finishing this conflict. The issued command bellowed as part rallying cry, part sermon, and hopefully undeniable to their sole opponent, in garnering an undefended tornado of swipes from the adjacent trio.
”FLEE!”
And not retreat from confusion.
@Big Dread, @Cu Chulainn, @Hekazu, @JBRam2002, @Zverda,@The Harbinger of Ferocity
@JBRam2002 and @Fer1323 would be the perfect peeps to reach out to. I believe we have 7 now, but they said they could ideally accommodate 9-12. Which is tots awesome!
YES,@ReaptheMusic!!!!
I found it, @JBRam2002!
I'm bringing this out to the top of the Interest Checks to recruit more willing soldiers. We need, what, just 2 more, right?
I'm bringing this out to the top of the Interest Checks to recruit more willing soldiers. We need, what, just 2 more, right?
Registering the weight of words exchanged, the druid suffered the thorns of enervation and exhaustion, seeping through the hoary cracks of his venerable constitution.
Yet, he remained enamored by the stamina of the Governor.
“We could no more abandon this town of Greenest than the stars could possibly vacate this dark sky.”
Noticing Nighthill's maturity rivaling that of the sailor’s, the tongue ring offered its remarks, as each cold exhalation wavered as smoky incense in the air, with every passed breath while a chin nodded in subdued thought.
“If you cannot spare one soul for the hunt in the morn, at least, heed your sergeant’s omen, and pardon yourself from the worry of this anxious eve. Hibernation has its value in the deep sleep of winter. Allow morale, though aslumber, to rekindle fresh, to a new sunrise. Even, the most dutiful bee rests with the hive, before dancing amongst pollen again the next daybreak. Your people will note the worsening erosion on your face, for the mind will have to eventually submit to a weathered body.”
Stumbling feet began to pace in concert with his Tethyrian fang, conjuring a gallop upon the citadel’s roof. His stride was purposeful, heading in the direction of the spiral stairwell, only to hesitate to allow a raven's curious glance, peeking around from a beard, to visually capture the crew once more, while the pirate did not flicker from his position.
“However, I truly understand your tender devotion to your flock. One cannot be heralded a good shepherd, if he does not dream and long for his lost sheep to return to the fold once more. Judgment sensed greatness upon your wing. As do I. In the soil of your leadership sprout the seeds of victory, but only if they remain dormant, nestling in the bosom of the land's retreat, to finally emerge in due season.”
The crow disappeared back into the whiskers, whilst the swashbuckler muttered, descending the stony helix to the staccato of briny boots and a white staff.
“Nothing of nature nor of mortals can stand forever.”
@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Hekazu@Ryonara@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen
Yet, he remained enamored by the stamina of the Governor.
“We could no more abandon this town of Greenest than the stars could possibly vacate this dark sky.”
Noticing Nighthill's maturity rivaling that of the sailor’s, the tongue ring offered its remarks, as each cold exhalation wavered as smoky incense in the air, with every passed breath while a chin nodded in subdued thought.
“If you cannot spare one soul for the hunt in the morn, at least, heed your sergeant’s omen, and pardon yourself from the worry of this anxious eve. Hibernation has its value in the deep sleep of winter. Allow morale, though aslumber, to rekindle fresh, to a new sunrise. Even, the most dutiful bee rests with the hive, before dancing amongst pollen again the next daybreak. Your people will note the worsening erosion on your face, for the mind will have to eventually submit to a weathered body.”
Stumbling feet began to pace in concert with his Tethyrian fang, conjuring a gallop upon the citadel’s roof. His stride was purposeful, heading in the direction of the spiral stairwell, only to hesitate to allow a raven's curious glance, peeking around from a beard, to visually capture the crew once more, while the pirate did not flicker from his position.
“However, I truly understand your tender devotion to your flock. One cannot be heralded a good shepherd, if he does not dream and long for his lost sheep to return to the fold once more. Judgment sensed greatness upon your wing. As do I. In the soil of your leadership sprout the seeds of victory, but only if they remain dormant, nestling in the bosom of the land's retreat, to finally emerge in due season.”
The crow disappeared back into the whiskers, whilst the swashbuckler muttered, descending the stony helix to the staccato of briny boots and a white staff.
“Nothing of nature nor of mortals can stand forever.”
@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Hekazu@Ryonara@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen
@Gordian Nought@Hekazu So is Gavin outside or in waiting room with what? I am trying to get my head around your posts. If you can help, that would be great.
A three legged robotic diplomat/official just reviewed our "papers" and provided us with an approved "DC" so I believe we were still inside the waiting room, but we can actually leave, if you desire, since the travel ban has been lifted and we are not required to attend to the administrative duties of the Council.
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