it must suck to be the red man
HereComesTheSnow Member
dehydration expert
STATUS: Just ran a stale yellow. Nobody on this website is doing it like me, sticking it to the man like me, blazing a trail against tyranny like me. the only thing revolutionary about you is your rhetoric 1 mo ago
- Last Seen: 1 hr ago
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 4026 (0.93 / day)
- VMs: 4
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Username history
- HereComesTheSnow 12 yrs ago
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Recent Statuses
1 mo ago
Current
Just ran a stale yellow. Nobody on this website is doing it like me, sticking it to the man like me, blazing a trail against tyranny like me. the only thing revolutionary about you is your rhetoric
3
likes
2 mos ago
Takeru Segawa is the type of man they made myths out of. Intensely privileged to be able to say I watched him burn so bright as he did before going out with a win. I’ll miss you, hero.
3 mos ago
a frayed thread on the colorful tapestry of our existence, begging to be yanked until the whole thing unravels, a suggestive, inviting golden glow around the idea of leaking my buddy's DMs to his wife
6
likes
4 mos ago
I'm like the "conspicuously modded with multiple trojan backdoors skyrim save on your friend's screenshare stream" of white boys
4
likes
5 mos ago
Completely fucking up my field sobriety test as i clamber out of the honda fit i've wrapped around a lightpost, staggering everywhere, before finally scoring a big fat goose egg on the breathalyzer
9
likes
Bio
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Most Recent Posts
I promised Pann a teammate so here he is
Name: Sterling Johnson
Age: 21
Gender: Manly Male
Race: Human
Weapon: Nuada, his artificial right Arm. Stylized to look like gothic plate armor of old, Nuada is both sleek and powerful, capable of amazing physical feats beyond even what the rest of Sterling's intensely trained and aurically powered body can achieve. Speed, dexterity, and power: everything's there, and ready to be tapped into at the drop of a hat. Not one to limit his options to mere fisticuffs (despite his love of a brawl), Nuada also sports a set of retractable blades running down the outside edge of the arm, culminating into a nasty-looking swordpoint that juts out from the elbow. Additionally, the wrist joint, in a feature deliberately and unrepentantly copied from Berserk, doubles as a cannon, once the hand is lowered, detached, or otherwise out of the way.
Specialty: Anything from a brawler to a tank to even ranged support, Sterling is of the opinion that the name of the game is Versatility. Will, for simplicity's sake, default to frontline warrior should the choice present itself.
Semblance: Airgetlam: The Silver Arm of the King. Allows Sterling absolute control over any metal he has handled in the past fiteen minutes within a fifty meter radius, bending it to his will and allowing him to order it around with but a thought. To that end, he always carries a small pouch of steel ball bearings on his person which he fools with regularly, often trying to create sculptures or some other method of both practicing his skills and fooling around.
Personality: Goofy, humorous, and jovial almost to a fault, Sterling makes it a point to have fun with life, even in the face of the sometimes grim tasks he must undertake. In that regard, he often tries to affect the air of "cool older brother" to the incoming first-years whenever he works with them, both relaxed and ready to offer whatever advice he can. His wit is a strange beast that takes all comers, ranging from terrible puns to perfectly time zingers that almost make up for said puns. Brave enough to be brashly confident in the face of anything, or at least pretend, at the end of the day Johnson is a nice dude with a sense of justice that stands firm through any circumstance.
Color: Sterling Silver
Emblem: A silver fist crashing into a the face of some silhouette.
Appearance:
Tall and athletic, Johnson's powerful frame is typically draped by a navy bomber jacket, the left sleeve noticeably cut short to allow for ease of use with Nuada. Underneath lies a plain white tank top, and, depending on the weather, either an orange bandana or orange scarf around his neck. Unremarkable denim jeans and white sneakers take care of his lower half, and his silver hair is always, without fail, slicked back. His steel blue eyes sometimes find themselves behind aviators, and sometimes don't. Again, weather-dependent.
Practically always smiling.
Name: Sterling Johnson
Age: 21
Gender: Manly Male
Race: Human
Weapon: Nuada, his artificial right Arm. Stylized to look like gothic plate armor of old, Nuada is both sleek and powerful, capable of amazing physical feats beyond even what the rest of Sterling's intensely trained and aurically powered body can achieve. Speed, dexterity, and power: everything's there, and ready to be tapped into at the drop of a hat. Not one to limit his options to mere fisticuffs (despite his love of a brawl), Nuada also sports a set of retractable blades running down the outside edge of the arm, culminating into a nasty-looking swordpoint that juts out from the elbow. Additionally, the wrist joint, in a feature deliberately and unrepentantly copied from Berserk, doubles as a cannon, once the hand is lowered, detached, or otherwise out of the way.
Specialty: Anything from a brawler to a tank to even ranged support, Sterling is of the opinion that the name of the game is Versatility. Will, for simplicity's sake, default to frontline warrior should the choice present itself.
Semblance: Airgetlam: The Silver Arm of the King. Allows Sterling absolute control over any metal he has handled in the past fiteen minutes within a fifty meter radius, bending it to his will and allowing him to order it around with but a thought. To that end, he always carries a small pouch of steel ball bearings on his person which he fools with regularly, often trying to create sculptures or some other method of both practicing his skills and fooling around.
Personality: Goofy, humorous, and jovial almost to a fault, Sterling makes it a point to have fun with life, even in the face of the sometimes grim tasks he must undertake. In that regard, he often tries to affect the air of "cool older brother" to the incoming first-years whenever he works with them, both relaxed and ready to offer whatever advice he can. His wit is a strange beast that takes all comers, ranging from terrible puns to perfectly time zingers that almost make up for said puns. Brave enough to be brashly confident in the face of anything, or at least pretend, at the end of the day Johnson is a nice dude with a sense of justice that stands firm through any circumstance.
Color: Sterling Silver
Emblem: A silver fist crashing into a the face of some silhouette.
Appearance:
Tall and athletic, Johnson's powerful frame is typically draped by a navy bomber jacket, the left sleeve noticeably cut short to allow for ease of use with Nuada. Underneath lies a plain white tank top, and, depending on the weather, either an orange bandana or orange scarf around his neck. Unremarkable denim jeans and white sneakers take care of his lower half, and his silver hair is always, without fail, slicked back. His steel blue eyes sometimes find themselves behind aviators, and sometimes don't. Again, weather-dependent.
Practically always smiling.
this don't look good
NANI?!?!?!
Jack Orpheus | Math Class
"Aaauugh, maaattthhhh...", he groaned. He really showed it, he took his sweet sweet time to get to this class, and by the time everyone was in, he was just entering the classroom. It wasn't that he was bad at this or anything, it was just... Boring. It's all numbers, there's no leeway, everything is too decided for his liking. He took his seat next to Luke, who seemed to be shivering. He wasn't really listening at the time either, so he didn't notice the sharp commentary from the little lady in one of the other seats.
"Huh? Luke, you that scared of math too? Is the AC on too high? Why're you shivering?", he inquired as he slumped into his chair. Unenthusiatically and sluggishly, he pulled his notebook out for class as he waited for a response. It was strange seeing him move in such an imprecise way.
Luke Schwarz--Math
Satisfied that the apparent pariah of a faunus was duly taken care of, he turned back to Jack, who in a very Jack-ish manner had plopped into the seat on the other side of him without his notice. This, unfortunately, diverted his attention away from Napoli, the fencer's comment falling on deaf ears as a victim of nothing more than circumstance.
"Oh, hey. Not really, but I've heard some horror stories. Was more about everyone leaping down eachother's throats just now. Bad vibes, y'know?"
Flipping his pencil idly around his thumb, he waited for class to start proper.
"If anything, Math's probably the only thing I'm close to good at. Certainly better than fighting." he said, with a slightly embarrassed smile. "So I'm hoping this ends up being one of the few I can hold my own in."
Not aiming for the top, by any means. That was begging to crash and burn into a disappointed heap.
...But I should at least do better than destroying my textbook.
Try as he might, he still had real trouble getting Mokuren. The fox faunus was not only an enigma, at times she almost seemed to be actively trying to confuse those around her.
Only time, he supposed, would tell him her secrets.
"Hey, uh, Mokuren?" he called over to the fox faunus in a decidedly diplomatic tone "That's not evil Grimm Runes or anything. It's just a math textbook."
It can't hurt you.
Physically, anyway.
@Forsythe click clack
I actually had a pretty decent time with integrals as
I'm pretty weeb so there's that
If this is your way of humblebragging the fuck's wrong with ya boy
I hit a brick wall with calc and did better my senior year of high school than my freshman year of college
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