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There's not much about me to say.

I was born in December 1998, and I've been doing Forum RP since 2011. I live in Southeast Asia-- the Philippines (GMT +8:00) in particular, so if I'm not around, I'm probably asleep or otherwise busy. I mostly do Group RPs and Tabletop Games (off-site). I've never been in a 1x1 RP, but some of the premises seem interesting enough.

I like Fantasy, Sci-fi, and certain Anime settings. I do shy away from certain genres as a matter of preference (historical, slice-of-life, grimdark, etc), and if I know nothing about a fandom setting in question, I'm far less likely to throw my hat in the ring-- but if the premise is interesting enough, I may give it a shot regardless.

I like to be relatively active, though life gets in the way sometimes. If you're lurking and are trying to get me to post, if you want to be a mutual friend, or if you want to invite me to a specific RP, just let me know...I don't bite. So long as you aren't rude, we'll get along just fine, and even then, I may extend a sort of professional courtesy between us as writers.

With that out of the way, if you're here, you're probably looking for more of my writing. Thankfully, I've recently compiled a list of my characters (with links to their respective RPs) from this site. If you want to check them out, the link is here.

If you made it this far, thanks for reading! May the RPs you're in be of an acceptable posting speed, and eventually, come to end on a decent conclusion...

...A man can dream, eh?

Most Recent Posts

Hey, I'm just glad you're still alive. Sorry to hear about your fam, but it's good to hear they're recovering. Hyped for the next posts! Will try to get a post out by later!

Hey guys, making another wellness check on y'all. It's been... five months since the last one, and in that time, activity on both the site and the Discord server has slowed somewhat. This is fine-- stuff happens to everyone, and in time, interest waxes and wanes. I'm mostly posting here to see if any of y'all are still interested in keeping this going. If any of you feel like no longer joining, then hey, that's no problem at all. Just be sure to let us know.

Failing to respond in a week or two may result in us moving on without you (if at all). Thanks in advance!

The Keep - Second Floor, 10 PM

As Balthazar walked through the halls of the keep, he could not help but feel a little worried. Normally, when the Sending Stones are used, the recipient of the message can send a reply if they so wish. Without a reply of acknowledgement, the old man could only assume the worst, and that the assassins were at least somewhat successful. This worried the man; how could he return to his Emperor-- his friend-- knowing that he had failed to uphold his promise?

Still, the man took a deep breath. If Leonidas had even a fraction of his father's resilience, a bit of poison wouldn't be the end of him. It was, of course, exceedingly problematic that the Orc Warband not only had a non-orc advisor, but a group of assassins, too. The fact that they were willing to go as far as to attempt to take the life of such high-profile individuals showed how dangerous this group could truly be.

...even if the assassins in question were not as competent as their master would like.

The spymaster spotted an unassuming man walking down the corridors-- presumably in search of him. Their eyes met, and the servant called out to him. Balthazar remembered this man from before: he was one of Duke Manuel's attendants... 'Morgan', the old man believed his name was. The butler was first to speak, politely bowing before the noble in question, before speaking.

"My lord, the Duke has fallen victim to assassins!"

"So I've heard. Where is he now?"

"In his bedroom, my lord. The doctor is treating him as best as she can."

"Good. I need you to locate one of our companions-- a cleric of the Sacred Order known as Lady Turash. See if she has recovered from her fatigue enough to wake. Her healing skills may prove essential soon."

"As you wish, my lord."

The two parted ways soon after, walking splitting off at an intersection. Morgan went to find Drana, while Balthazar moved towards the master bedroom to check on the Duke's condition. The old man found the correct door soon enough, took a sigh, and knocked twice before entering the room. The man nodded to the healer in the room, before slowly approaching the incapacitated man in bed.

"Duke Karstilli." Balthazar said quietly. "How does he fare?" He asked the healer, though the pause in the air gave the Duke in question enough time to respond, if he so wished.

The Keep - Courtyard, 10 PM

Manald easily disabled the assassin that he had grabbed. A few broken bones, and a massive kick to the groin is all that was needed to truly put the man down. Still, although the dagger stung more than a little bit, and the poison felt somewhat painful... a poison that was potentially to a regular humanoid could not even hope to overpower the hardiness that a lycanthrope provided. Still, it was more than a little annoying. If they had the ability to use more poison, or perhaps a stronger one, then perhaps he'd truly be in trouble.

Merik's quick action also helped prevent his friend becoming injured. The crossbow-wielding assassin couldn't help but let out panicked screams as the eight-foot-tall lizardman pounced on him. At this range, he had no hope. With a few strikes to vital areas, the man was quickly subdued.

The pair of beastmen didn't know what these assassins were here for, but it was certainly nothing good. Now all they needed to do is haul them off to the dungeons, or hand them off the the guards.

The Keep - Stables, 10 PM

Zatana's initial approach was quite successful-- even with the man having freed his cloak from that wicked mare, the enemy assassin was not able to anticipate the feint. As her blades opened up the man's inner thigh, and cut a slash across his dagger hand, her attacks only compounded his injuries. With his injuries from the previous battles, and his exhaustion, this fight was as good as finished. It was clear that these assassins were not anticipating such resistance.

But the Drow was nothing if not thorough. She easily disrupted the man's footwork with a sweep of the leg, causing him to collapse onto his (comparatively) better knee. This is all it takes, and Zatana's ruthless, calculated barrage of fists to the man's various vital points easily incapacitated the man. He let out a long groan of pain as he quietly curled up in a ball to avoid any further damage to his nethers (and the rest of his body).

It was clear that the assassin wasn't going to be able to move for a while, even if he wanted to. A quick survey of the area reveals that it is relatively safe-- though the mare seemed to want in on the action herself. Regardless, one thing was for certain: Zatana had the man at her mercy.

The Trade Square, 10:30 PM

The Crown Prince now thoroughly unconscious, Acrius hefted the man onto his shoulders and called for help. Thankfully, Petyr, who was nearby enjoying the festivities, was nearby to help. Together, they carried the Crown Prince to the barracks. Many guards gave the trio strange looks, but once they realize that the Crown Prince needed assistance, moved aside to let them through.

A healer was dispatched to help assist the Prince, and although the doctor was not able to cleanse the body of the poison, he was able to stabilize Leonidas and prevent his condition from deteriorating further. Soon enough, a carriage and an armed escort of guards would come to bring the Crown Prince (and any other members of the Crown Guard) back to the Keep, where it is safer for him to recover.

Naturally, after word of the Prince's poisoning had gone around, the festivities were put on hold. The party was dispersed, and an impromptu curfew was imposed. Everyone was to return to their homes.

City Streets, 11:00 PM

Rudolph, Fullar, and Gordon quickly neutralized the saboteurs walking the streets before looking amongst themselves. Were there more? With one dead, and another unconscious, they had little recourse. The guards would bring Clarisse to the Keep for questioning, while Captain Helt had ordered the remainder of the guard to sweep the city streets for assassins and saboteurs.

They would not find any more.

...but at least, they have managed to prevent further damage to the city's infrastructure. The amount of damage truly done would not be evident until the next day, when the people of the city would go out to draw water from the well. In the end, it was only a single well, so it wasn't that bad, but the fact that these opponents would go so far as to attack infrastructure was... troubling.

Alistair continued his spinning dance of death, twirling and whirling as steel sang its bloody tune. He managed to catch the injured cultist in a downward diagonal swing, the heretic too injured to properly evade. Even as the blade was blunted by the armor plating, it kept its supernatural edge. He cleaved downwards until the blade stopped moving, before kicking the lifeless body away, barely managing to face his other opponents in time.

Before he could return to the fray, however, the tense atmosphere seemed to shift... becoming more oppressive and pervasive. A lull in the battle now becoming evident, Alistair threw a glance at the door and spotted a new arrival. She was a beautiful woman about his age, with a strange demeanor to her, wholly unsuited to sisterhood.

And yet, here she was.

First the priest, and now this woman... Alistair elected to push those thoughts out of his mind, and focus on the battle before him. Against multiple opponents, he couldn't get distracted, or he'd lose his head. As he tangled with the three of them, the Russian priest from a while ago had sprang into action, quickly dispatching of one of the heretic swordsmen, leaving two more. The Vatican priest said nothing, only opting to give his companion a thankful look.

Two-on-two were far better odds than three-on-one, after all.

As Dhzon tangled with one of the cultists, Alistair swung at his own opponent as the cultist attacked, and causing them to lock blades with one another. Now that the numbers were even, he didn't have to worry about being constantly on the defensive-- a sword bind like this was no longer a potential death sentence, but instead an opportunity to deal some damage.

Contrary to popular belief, when it came to HEMA, you didn't need to be fast or strong when wielding a blade. Weapons were the great equalizer that allowed even the lowliest peasant to fell a mighty knight if they hit the right spot. Instead, techniques were extremely reliant upon the user's skill and form. It was certainly possible for Alistair to overpower his opponent's strength with his own, but there was no finesse in that-- there were proper techniques to perform when swords bind, and he was more than willing to execute them.

As they locked blades, Alistair moved to gain the three advantages: the true edge, the forte upon the debole, and the crossing. To finish, however, the Vatican priest performed a crossline step, moving his sword around his opponent's. The man pivoted using a compass motion, and thrust his blade through the opponent's side. With a bit of effort, the priest cut deeper and deeper until he reached bone, and then tore the blade away with a yell of exertion.

With his opponents defeated, the priest gave his fellow swordsman a nod.

December 30th - Rear Trench

The marksman was as reserved as ever, even as the sergeant moved to admonish the other Darcsen for her remarks. When his superior's gaze turned upon Elliot himself, the boy merely nodded in acknowledgement. "Aye, sergeant." He said in a calm tone. Elliot wasn't the type to do any of that stuff anyway, but officers tended to appreciate a response over silence.

With warnings out of the way, Elliot watched on as Michael and the tall woman exchanged words. Talks of sidearms, shovels, and other melee weapons. The marksman's face was as impassive as ever, even as the sapper told a bad pun and waggled his eyebrows (though Elliot did resist the urge to shake his head in mock disapproval). As the Oceanic woman worked on her incendiary solution, the young man observed it from a respectable distance. Though he wasn't well-versed in chemistry, there was little doubt in his mind: that concoction was incendiary-- a firebomb.

...It'd certainly be effective in the battle to come. A surprise attack was hard to deal with, but when you throw fire into the mix (literally, in this case)... panic tends to spread rather quickly. The morality and ethics of incendiary weapons aside, its effectiveness could not be denied. The marksman took a mental note of its presence, accounted for its potential impact, and moved to observe other things.

In the meantime, Elliot turned to the other new arrivals: a redheaded man of average height-- a shocktrooper, judging by his loadout. The man in question simply opted to stay silent and ready himself for the battle ahead, which was something the marksman could approve of. The next man to step through the door was taller, with brown hair and a scraggly beard. He moved to report in, before suddenly stopping. Curious, Elliot looked at the man's expression, before following his eyes... to the sergeant smoking a cigar near the table.

It seemed that they had a history of some sort. What it was, Elliot was uncertain, but it was not like he had any business in the matter anyway. Still, he was more than satisfied to watch this unfold from the sidelines.

For now, anyway.

Solid post, my dude.

December 30th - Rear Trench

After their shift, the three went their separate ways, heading to the rear line. With several hours of free time, Elliot considered returning to the private room he had rented and taking a shower, but he figured it could wait until after this supposed mission. Instead, he passed the time in his room, routinely disassembling, cleaning, maintaining, and reassembling his various firearms. Once that was done, he went through the motions of his usual handgun practice-- quickly drawing the gun from its holster, bringing the weapon up to eye level, and then adjusting the sights accordingly, before repeating the process several times.

Although he rarely ever needed to use his revolver, it was important that he got used to its weight and feel-- to rely on an unfamiliar weapon was a gamble in itself, and Elliot wasn't the kind to take chances.

Elliot was a little confused as to why they decided to bring a designated marksman to a close-quarters trench raid but didn't complain much. If High Command wanted a couple of prisoners, then it was up to the infantry to retrieve 'em. He only hoped it would be worth the effort.

...and inevitable injuries and casualties that would result from it, ambush or not.

Within the tavern, he could spot a few familiar faces. Men and women in his unit, assigned on the trench raid in question. Michael, the young man he had shared a meal with just a few hours ago, two Darcsens-- a sergeant and a private; a man and woman respectively, and a lance corporal-- an exceptionally tall woman, at that. Elliot glanced at the array of equipment on the table, and once everyone was done giving their advice, he offered a bit of his own, obvious as it might seem.

"You'll probably want to pack light." Elliot said simply, the advice open to all. "You'll need to move around quickly in the trenches-- and there's no point in dying with full pockets." His tone was matter-of-factly, with no hint of malice. He was seemingly unfazed by his more... violent companions.

Elliot went over his own equipment as he thought about it. He would have to leave the rifle behind. Though his marksmanship was exceptional, the Scoped SM-Longfield was ill-suited to a trench raid. Instead, he would be bringing the John-Wissel Revolver, which was standard issue for officers and marksmen.

For even closer encounters, he'd pack his knife and the garotte wire. Bringing the knife was obvious, and while doubted he'd be able to sneak up on someone and be able to throttle them with the garotte once the battle was in full swing, it was light, and good to have on hand regardless.

Lastly, he'd pack his flare gun and a few flares. Ideally, they'd be crossing No Man's Land under cover of darkness, but once the raid itself began, having some light on hand might turn the tide, if things went south. He doubted the raid would remain silent forever, after all.

As he inspected the last of his equipment, he turned to the rest of them. His expression was as calm and neutral as ever as he thought about the mission ahead. It was certainly dangerous, but all missions were. This was not an impossible task by any stretch of the imagination, and he knew they'd get it done.
I don't really mind a Discord, especially considering we seem to be full up on players (with a few in a potential waiting list?) anyway. And a new thread is fine as well. Really, I'll roll with whatever.
Hey everybody, its been a bit quiet so I thought I'd ask this now before we continue moving on:

Are people still interested in this RP? I know we've sorta had a lot of stopping and starting prior to getting off the ground, so the momentum might've stalled. People's interests change, inspiration/motivation dies, its all typical Guild stuff. Part of me thinks a whole ass restart might be needed to get the steam flowing again. Anyway yeah, just thought I'd get everyone's general feel.

I wouldn't be opposed to a restart, if it leads to a more structured beginning. I'm still interested, but intro posts are always tough for me, and the fact that the beginning was very, very open actually hurts more than it helps. All that said, I feel like I have to get my 'hype thrusters' engaged whenever I need to write for this, and I do like our cast of characters in that regard.

The posts have been very hard to write for. Thus far we've had to make our own start and Hawthorne left a closed question which gave us very little to work with for something of Advanced quantity. That said, I've actually got a post in a doc with me, Dino and Bazmund in it; we're just waiting for anyone else to post and we've been trying to pad it out but I can post it as is if you're not fussed about length.

That one's on me. I probably should've messaged you for a collab or something if I wanted that closed question resolved in a timely manner, so my bad. I just wanted to get a response out since I felt I was floundering about it for a while. I'll try not to let it happen again in the future.
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