Jinxer Member
The British One
- Last Seen: 2 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Jinxer
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 1243 (0.27 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- Jinxer 12 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
11 yrs ago
Currently living inside Life is Strange.
11 yrs ago
I'm baaaaaaaaaaaack.
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
Don't worry - like I said, it's normal for an advanced RP to have a fair bit of time between posts and advance more slowly.
I bow to your superior knowledge of Calais' landmarks!
Yeah, Notre Dame would be a razed building by this point although we're in Calais and it (was) in Paris (but nevermind, I'm definitely not going to be a massive stickler for these kind of details!)
It's up to whoever; someone could have followed Rhiannon through the crowd or see her coming out of the compound or she can find them at the Sepulcher.
I should clarify - I did some research and Sidhe belong to Irish mythology. I'm now basing Rhiannon off the Faeries (Ellyllon - think of Elves) from the Mabinogion.
Oh, Annwn is the Otherworld. Enjoy!
Oh, Annwn is the Otherworld. Enjoy!
"We don't have time to get belongings, the fighting will break out into the city soon." Rhiannon spoke in a strange tone, deathly calm with all her previous nervousness banished. Her eyes had glazed over as if they were looking at something far away, something no one but her could see. Suddenly she shook her head, her body relaxing and colour returned to her cheeks. She looked at the others anxiously, glancing up at the progress of the battle.
"The... spirit inside me sometimes tells prophecies. We should head straight for safety. It's never wrong." She let the dragon nudge her forwards and as they made contact a name flashed into her mind. "Mar-duk. That's your name. isn't it? She asked but was suddenly swept up by the crowd and separated from the others. Rather than struggling against the flow she headed with it, small and hardly noticeable in the panic. Brought to the Patriarch's compound by the flow she stumbled forwards only to be stopped by a guard. The man recognised her quickly, however, and let the girl in and out of the trampling crowd outside. It wasn't long before she found her parents, standing in the courtyard near a large fire around which many other Christians waited and prayed. Upon seeing her parents she called out to them but the look in their eyes when they turned made her stop.
"Rhiannon, dear, come over here. We're praying for safety." Her mother said, gesturing for the small girl to join them. Rhiannon's reluctance was obvious and this spurred her father to stride forwards and grab her by the wrist.
"The spirit knows its end is nigh, woman. Come, help me cleanse her." Together her parents began to drag Rhiannon towards the bonfire and with a sinking feeling Rhiannon saw that all the other Christians in the courtyard had been waiting for her arrival; they had decided to burn a witch to win the favour of God. She began to struggle but to no avail. It was as they neared the fire and her parents prepared to throw her onto the fire that her only chance came. Her mother faltered for a moment and Rhiannon used that moment to kick the woman. Stumbling forwards, surprised at the attack, her mother fell into the flames. The moments she was stunned was enough time for her clothes to catch fire and she began to scream. Rhiannon's father grimaced but did nothing to help his wife, instead throwing Rhiannon to the ground brutally.
"We should never have taken you in. The Father was right, you are a spirit from Annwn! You will burn for the glory of God, Ellyllon!" Rhiannon reached for the dagger strapped to her thigh and drew it just as her father grabbed hold of her neck, yanking the small girl from the ground roughly. As her air was closed off she shoved the knife upwards from her waist into her father's ribs, ironically as her mother had taught her to do against Norman raiders. She felt the life shudder out of him and dropped to the ground as his grip was lost on her neck.
She coughed, looking around at the other Christians who stared in shock at the quick sequence of events. Unfortunately for Rhiannon they recovered quickly and began to advance towards her with determined looks. Ripping the bloody knife out from her father's corpse the young Ellyllon fled the courtyard, her white cowl lost in the scuffle to let her bright red hair flow behind her.
They're the only ones I can stay with now. I have to find them.
"The... spirit inside me sometimes tells prophecies. We should head straight for safety. It's never wrong." She let the dragon nudge her forwards and as they made contact a name flashed into her mind. "Mar-duk. That's your name. isn't it? She asked but was suddenly swept up by the crowd and separated from the others. Rather than struggling against the flow she headed with it, small and hardly noticeable in the panic. Brought to the Patriarch's compound by the flow she stumbled forwards only to be stopped by a guard. The man recognised her quickly, however, and let the girl in and out of the trampling crowd outside. It wasn't long before she found her parents, standing in the courtyard near a large fire around which many other Christians waited and prayed. Upon seeing her parents she called out to them but the look in their eyes when they turned made her stop.
"Rhiannon, dear, come over here. We're praying for safety." Her mother said, gesturing for the small girl to join them. Rhiannon's reluctance was obvious and this spurred her father to stride forwards and grab her by the wrist.
"The spirit knows its end is nigh, woman. Come, help me cleanse her." Together her parents began to drag Rhiannon towards the bonfire and with a sinking feeling Rhiannon saw that all the other Christians in the courtyard had been waiting for her arrival; they had decided to burn a witch to win the favour of God. She began to struggle but to no avail. It was as they neared the fire and her parents prepared to throw her onto the fire that her only chance came. Her mother faltered for a moment and Rhiannon used that moment to kick the woman. Stumbling forwards, surprised at the attack, her mother fell into the flames. The moments she was stunned was enough time for her clothes to catch fire and she began to scream. Rhiannon's father grimaced but did nothing to help his wife, instead throwing Rhiannon to the ground brutally.
"We should never have taken you in. The Father was right, you are a spirit from Annwn! You will burn for the glory of God, Ellyllon!" Rhiannon reached for the dagger strapped to her thigh and drew it just as her father grabbed hold of her neck, yanking the small girl from the ground roughly. As her air was closed off she shoved the knife upwards from her waist into her father's ribs, ironically as her mother had taught her to do against Norman raiders. She felt the life shudder out of him and dropped to the ground as his grip was lost on her neck.
She coughed, looking around at the other Christians who stared in shock at the quick sequence of events. Unfortunately for Rhiannon they recovered quickly and began to advance towards her with determined looks. Ripping the bloody knife out from her father's corpse the young Ellyllon fled the courtyard, her white cowl lost in the scuffle to let her bright red hair flow behind her.
They're the only ones I can stay with now. I have to find them.
The IC is up for others to post.
I do lurve that game. My best save was starting as Alfred of Wessex (or the Great) in the earliest bookmark and conquering all of the UK, Scandinavia, France, the Holy Land and edging into Iberia within two hundred years and four generations. I've never been able to recreate that feat though >.<. You get one bad heir or one female heir or someone dies too early and you get a regency and... boom.
Stepping forwards, Gaius went first. He raised the handgun so that it was held in his right hand while being braced across his left forearm as if it were a sandbag or wall top to provide extra stability. He knew that more skilled fighters would not need to provide the bracing and could shoot true without even aiming down the sights at all, more by reflex than anything else, but he had not that practice or the time to learn so.
He cocked the weapon and shot at every target before the clip ran out and he lowered the weapon. Every shot had hit but not always at a vital spot and he knew that his time between shots had been too long as he had taken care to aim.
"Like I said, this kind of battle is not my forte."
He cocked the weapon and shot at every target before the clip ran out and he lowered the weapon. Every shot had hit but not always at a vital spot and he knew that his time between shots had been too long as he had taken care to aim.
"Like I said, this kind of battle is not my forte."
Alrighty! I'll get something for Wilfred up as soon as I can.
© 2007-2026