• Last Seen: 1 yr ago
  • Old Guild Username: Holmishire
  • Joined: 10 yrs ago
  • Posts: 718 (0.19 / day)
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  • Username history
    1. Holmishire 10 yrs ago

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Bio

A writer, artist, animator, worldbuilder. In short, jack of all trades, master of some.

For the most part, I've retired from roleplaying. For quite a long time, what kept me tied to RPG was the Spam community—but even that I have distanced myself from. Now, my focus is on the writing contests.

I consistently try to write reviews for RPGC, and I consistently enter the Twelve Labours.

First labour; world of Archipelago, Jack.
Challenge: an unwelcome death.
For next entry: characterization.

Second labour; world of Uberpowered, Émile.
Challenge: an unfortunate fortune.
For next entry: pacing.

Third labour; world of Cinderlore, Caerys.
Challenge: an unforgiving ambition.
For next entry: proofreading.

Fourth labour; world of Supers, Joshua.
Challenge: an uncompromising betrayal.
For next entry: development.

Fifth labour; world of Mutamorphis, Olrich.
Challenge: an unrepressed motive.
For next entry: development, dammit.

Sixth labour; world of Mythos, Melas.
Challenge: an untenable alliance.
For next entry: dénouement.

Seventh labour; world of Hatemongers, Talahn.
Challenge: an unbearable sacrifice.
For next entry: cast utilization.

Eigth labour; world of Mythica, Céline.
Challenge: an unwinnable challenge.
For next entry: plot cohesion.

Ninth labour; world of Nardja, Albiorn.
Challenge: an unknowing accomplice.
For next entry: narrative set-up.

Tenth labour; world of Magestones, Ariana.
Challenge: an unwilling inspiration.
For next entry: narrative set-up, dammit.

Most Recent Posts

"Don't worry, nobody's looking," Ariett said, glancing around at the other commandingly to make it so. She pulled a light salmon-coloured hoodie from her pack and pulled it down over Amélie's head and shoulders. In doing so, the girl wouldn't have to move her arms—or the blanket—until the hoodie was already doing half the job for her. "Glad you're feeling better, but uh…" At this she looked to the doctor. "Any idea what was up with her? Or more importantly, if it's something that might relapse."
Ariett muttered something about how he'd better not be screwing with them before applying a few drops of the liquid to the girl's shirt—she wanted to see the effects before risking a high dose with a potentially volatile chemical.

Or golem, whatever it was.

"It hurt like hell when that metal seared into my back," she said, addressing the knight. "If I used it on myself now, wouldn't I just suffer from an open wound?"
Ariett was quick to lunge forward and catch Amélie as she fell. Disoriented and incoherent, she could only assume the girl was suffering from some sort of seizure; for her safety, she supported her with an arm-and-shoulder around her back, and clutched the edge of the condensed spikes sprouting from her shirt—in case Amélie's own grip should falter.

She called out to the knight who'd spoken earlier. "Hey, delusional or not, she could use some help. Could you get over here with some of that solvent you mentioned?"
With the danger—if not the tension—of the situation apparently dying down, Ariett slipped out from under the car's protection to crouch behind Kael's shield, dragging her backpack along with her. She poked her head out the side and looked at Fortune and Amélie; from what she'd seen they'd been struck by the same material that had sealed her shoulder-blade, though they seemed to have kept it largely away from their skin.

"Are either of you hurt?" She noticed that the girl was holding her shirt away from her chest, as if it might prick her, so she crept out from behind the shield with a nod of thanks at the boy and approached Amélie, pulling a blanket from her pack. "You can cover yourself with this if you need to get that shirt off. I've also got some spare clothes in here."
He needed a distraction, and a metaphorical security blanket between himself and Donny, the newly-arrived-but-equally-violent knights.... all of it. He found all of that in Ariett. Things had slowed down enough that now for the first time her injury was really registering in his mind. Now he also remembered how she'd tried to slow him down during his bullish rush towards suicide-by-redhead, and looking at the metallic scar-pattern on her back, he realized why she'd cried out in pain. It was MY fault, he thought, and then he followed that up with a few self-depreciating internal comments about what an idiot he was. He offered her a hand to get up. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Ariett rolled over and latched onto Luca's arm, wincing as he helped pull her up. "Thanks." Upon seeing the remains of the remaining two 'thugs', she visibly sagged. "I'm fine, I think. A bit sore, I guess, but whatever damage the metal did it promptly sealed right back up." Her gaze lingered on the spear-laden bodies before turning her attention fully to the kid. "You took quite a few tumbles yourself, and you look none the worse for the wear—the advantages of youth, I guess?"
Ariett remains lying on the ground in the same position as before as she tries to avoid drawing attention to herself in these trying times.
i have a nasty headache so i'm just to going post a short and sweet
Ariett placed her left hand on the back of her head, but found herself unable to move her right arm into such a position due to her injury. Instead, she splayed the arm out and put her right hand palm-down on the cobblestone.

"Hello, officers? I'm the one who called you, I can explain as much as I can after you get us out of here." She spat out some of the dirt that had covered her face after the shockwave. "Most of us are unarmed. Just be careful dealing with the redhead, he's a bit trigger-happy and I don't want another accidental shootout."
"At least he didn't shoot anyone," she grumbled.

She turned to see Luca charging angrily towards Donny. Thinking that a dangerous plan of action considering the man's volatile nature and the scattered bodies he had recently exorcised across the street, she threw her backpack towards the boy's legs so as to trip him. @mdk

Her aim was a quite off, as she failed to adjust for the altered gravity—it fell short of her target, only barely making contact with the boy's heel. Then again, she would normally have been unable to throw her heavy backpack at such a distance, so perhaps a small victory could be afforded.

Still, the sudden motion did no wonders for the metallic plate seared into her back. Ariett cried out in pain after the toss and promptly fell back to her knees.
Turning to Donny, Ariett made a patting gesture in the air, followed by hands clasped momentarily in mock prayer—roughly translated, the meaning was please don't shoot anyone. She didn't really know what ticked him off last time, and she was hoping to figure out their intentions before bullets started to fly this time around.

"Technically we—or rather, he—shot first."

Ariett then faced the newcomers and spoke up so as to be heard over the loud humming emanating from the orb transfixed above the street. "Are these men yours? If so, I'd like to point out we're still armed, and the police are on their way. I assure you, we aren't worth the trouble." The threat was only half-true. She had not yet retrieved her phone since the dive, and she really had no idea whether or not the voice on the line had been able to locate them without Ariett's help.
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