Lemons

Iquenos: In Nomine Domini

@Inkarnate Sweet, I'll get right on that.

Iquenos: In Nomine Domini

So is this or is it not open? Because I really want in.

Nightscourge: A Redwall Tale

@Themerlinhawk Ooh, another northern squirrel! Adaira is going to have a field day with him!

Nightscourge: A Redwall Tale

Name: Adaira (a-DAY-ruh) Blackwood
Species: Squirrel
Appearance:
Alignment: Good
Starting location: Mossflower Wood
Age: 32

Weapon: Adaira favors the use of her ancestral family sword, a great claymore with the words Gealaich Buain engraved into the enormous blade that she is immensely proud of and attached to. However, as she’s not always able or willing to engage in close-quarters combat, she’s fairly skilled in the use of a shortbow that she keeps slung around her shoulders when not in use. Two small daggers are strapped the shoulderbelt that Gealaich Buain is sheathed on.

Backstory: Adaira is a bit of a mother hen, and always has been. When she was quite young, her parents died, leaving her in charge of her baby brother Gavin. She accepted it, taking care of him as best she could, and with her ceaseless effort, Gavin was able to grow up strong and healthy, now serving as a bellringer for Redwall Abbey. Yet, Adaira could never stomach living in Redwall, really. It was too enclosed. Not enough open air, free space, trees to climb through for the wildcard that she is. She preferred to live out in Mossflower in her now-empty family home, but she spends little time there. While she doesn’t live in Redwall, she enjoys talking to the Abbeyfolk, and often comes by to visit, usually unannounced. She is well-liked on her frequent visits, especially by the Dibbuns, whom she has a knack of caring for.

Other: Adaira has a dry, somewhat sarcastic sense of humor, which, like it or not, is rather prolific. Don’t let it fool you; she cares deeply about anybody she views herself as responsible for, no matter how many long-suffering, disappointed sighs she may heave. The Blackwood family hail from the Northlands, and thought the accent largely faded from their bloodline long ago after a few generations spent in Mossflower, she still retains a faint lilt to her voice, and the enormous blade that is her heritage. The Blackwood clan left the North after being driven out by a great conquering wildcat known as Verdauga Greeneyes and wandered for hundreds of years before finally making their way south to Mossflower after the fall of Kotir.

Airson dubh daraich de Dhathasan Chnoc! - Blackwood clan warcry (For the black oak of Fallow Hill!)

Nightscourge: A Redwall Tale

Is there still room for one more in here? Been looking for one of these for ages!

Nightscourge: A Redwall Tale

We still got any room in this? I am quite intrigued!

ᴀᴘᴏᴛʜᴇᴏsɪs: __ɢᴇɴᴇsɪs

On a nicer note, can I just say the new autosave feature is beautiful and I love it to death.

ᴀᴘᴏᴛʜᴇᴏsɪs: __ɢᴇɴᴇsɪs

I'll stay here writing, but I'm not comfortable enough with GMing to take over one that someone's started.

A Tyrant's Undoing

Jes' chillin.'

ᴀᴘᴏᴛʜᴇᴏsɪs: __ɢᴇɴᴇsɪs

Tori

Tori only managed to stagger up to the brunette holding the medical kit that was walking towards her after someone else had already started talking to said medic. Her head was swimming, and she was having trouble even limping right, let alone walking. Some detached part of her knew that it was a very, very bad thing, and that despite first appearances, she'd probably hit a vein or something and was, in all likelihood, going to die of blood loss, or have to manually cauterize the wound. In her haste to not die horribly, she'd stripped away the tanktop and wrapped it around the slash, shivering in her leather coat. Her teeth chattered, and she was reminded vividly of the cold of the train car cell. She looked down at her hand. It was ghostly white, anaemic in its pallor, and she clenched it as hard as she could, gritting her teeth as though in denial of the crimson fluid seeping from it. The tanktop wasn't really doing much.

"Nah, not okay," she gasped out as soon as she was close enough to the much older girl, "could use a hand over here. I'm going to go ahead and assume this is more important than whatever this guy's deal is," she said, pointing a thumb at food boy. "No hard feelings," she added to him as an afterthought.

"So yeah," she gasped out, "I could use a really fuckin' big plaster."

With that, she slid off the makeshift bandage, peeling it off with blood sluicing away from it. She still didn't know how deep it went, but it probably would've been a good idea to clean it in the stream.

"I could cauterize it," she grunted, flicking her lighter and swaying dizzily from side to side, "but I'd really not do that if I don't have to to live. Shit hurts."

Past her tough exterior, her eyes betrayed a series of emotions and sensations: pain, confusion, anger, fear, all mixing together into a rising storm of panic that was becoming increasingly difficult for her to clamp down on. She was rapidly becoming more disoriented, and she was pretty sure she was starting to hallucinate. At this point, she wasn't sure whether or not she was crying, but she fervently hoped that she wasn't. It wasn't very good for her image.

@dreamingflowers