@Alice
CapnCookie's character needs help, if anything.
Maki Casanova Member
- Last Seen: 11 yrs ago
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 271 (0.06 / day)
- VMs: 0
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- Maki Casanova 12 yrs ago
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Most Recent Posts
In
Aragonia: A Fantasy Open Worlded Plot & Character-driven RP (OOC/Signups)
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12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
In
Aragonia: A Fantasy Open Worlded Plot & Character-driven RP (OOC/Signups)
→
12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Just here is fine, on the intro page.
In
Aragonia: A Fantasy Open Worlded Plot & Character-driven RP (OOC/Signups)
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12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
The spellbook is in the opening post of the OOC.
In
Aragonia: A Fantasy Open Worlded Plot & Character-driven RP (OOC/Signups)
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12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Ryden Zenta
100 Gold
Ryden's bright, crimson eyes sparkled as he awed at the golem man's deep, rumbling voice, and the silent authority of his speaking manner. "Understood, but I am disappointed that I didn't stick out like a nail. And I am what's left of Adam Johannson." The boy looked him up and down, and slightly reached out to his heavy, metallic arms, eager to analyze but careful not to prod like an annoying twat. "I am also well aware of the attention I get. Not that it was ever asked for. Anyway, pleased to meet you." He nodded at his response in acknowledgement, yet he continued to stare at the wondrous invention of a man. Before he could ask anymore questions though, an announcer's voice boomed all across the plaza to acquire to attention of the festival goers. Ryden stood at attention, slightly startled by the sudden noise, and did a pirouette on his heals to turn towards the source of the attention. The man on stage droned on and on about unnecessary greetings, petty festival back story, and the cliche'd themes of a celebration: fun, romance... He boxed the intruding voice away from his auditory senses and yawned loudly. Intoxication, saying things you'll regret, stuffing yourself 'til you're fat, yada yada yada. Typical, useless entrances. People are already getting themselves into troub... His thoughts trailed off abruptly as he noticed the blue cloaked men slowly surrounding the stage. They approached with such brilliant subtlety that when Ryden swept his gaze across the crowd, most people didn't even take notice of their presence. This worried him greatly, and he prepared himself for anything chaotic to break out.
His thoughts fulfilled themselves as he spotted two blue cloaked men in crossbows who sneaked up the stage and used the darkness to cloak themselves into the background. Ryden was about to lob a Ravage spell in their direction, but this particular thought manifested itself too late as a gleaming steel blade latched itself into the heart of the announcer. All hell broke loose then, as the mysterious figures unsheathed weapons, melee and ranged, to take down the civilians. Two enemies hurled themselves against the hulk of the man, and he leaped sideways into a roll to get out of the way. He saw what remained of Adam Johannson marvelously cleave through two men in a powerful fashion. He wanted to clap and cheer at this amazing display, but of course, he would not be beaten in a show of strength and ferocity; he wouldn't be a Saber if he merely backed down and let the others do the dirty work. He sprung into the heat of combat, yelling with all his might, and found himself surrounded by blue cloaked men, all of them distracted by his battle lust. "Good, I see you've taken noticed!" He shouted proudly, and as they began to close in after him, he murmured his Fireball spell, channeling his arcane prowess into the base of his palm to give the shots a good, explosive show (MP: 290/300). One enemy braved to charge at him head on, to his delight, and the man attempted to lunge his sword straight into his heart. But Ryden, swift and sleek like a panther, spun to the right and unleashed a ball of intense flame straight to his enemy's vulnerable side, which sent him flying off to the other end of the plaza with bombastic display(MP: 280/300). the Saber boy laughed with such mirth, that as enemies rushed at him with all their might, he still continued to guffaw at his own "hand-made" fireworks. Five seconds before their blades could meet with his mocking face, however, he quickly muttered the spell of Forceful Gust (MP: 245/300), and punched the ground beneath him to recoil the wind from his spell back into himself to launch his body high into the air. As he accelerated upwards against the will of gravity, he again commanded his mana to flow into his finger tips, where dark energies began to crawl all over (MP: 230/300). At the peak of his self catapult, he spread his arms wide and shoulder length, to summon the shadowy claws from the ground, and swiped the air in front of him to send them binding and slashing at his ground bound, grouped up foes. The umbral talons hacked away at his enemies without hesitation, dismantling their bodies rather cleanly, yet mercilessly, allowing him to land with relative safety save for another landing roll across the plaza. He patted his hands together, huffing with smugness and self-praise, and turned towards the rest of the would be enemies. "Would anyone like to be next?" He asked in sly, mocked enticement.
In
Aragonia: A Fantasy Open Worlded Plot & Character-driven RP (OOC/Signups)
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12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
DIAMOND
I suggest that you compile a list of people's CSes, as some people would like to keep track of their abilities. It would be helpful tbh.
I suggest that you compile a list of people's CSes, as some people would like to keep track of their abilities. It would be helpful tbh.
In
Aragonia: A Fantasy Open Worlded Plot & Character-driven RP (OOC/Signups)
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12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Yes you're being a huge knob.
Closest thing s priest you could have could be from the Order of idris.
In
Aragonia: A Fantasy Open Worlded Plot & Character-driven RP (OOC/Signups)
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12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
LokiLeo789 said
Right:P
Says the guy who hasn't posted a letter. ;D
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Aragonia: A Fantasy Open Worlded Plot & Character-driven RP (OOC/Signups)
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12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Woo, that took a bit out of my brain. xD
In
Aragonia: A Fantasy Open Worlded Plot & Character-driven RP (OOC/Signups)
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12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Ryden Zenta
100 Gold
Ryden sighed as he wrapped himself quickly with a velvet, violet cloak to shield himself from the chills of the nightly breeze. The city of Zorrodawn was a gangly, chaotic mess right now because of the festival: drunkards roamed the streets and tried to get their grubby arms on the fair maidens who chatted about, only to get poked in the bum by the local city guards as a warning. He saw groups of friends surrounding a food stall, laughing the night away, genuinely enjoying each other's company; he felt a small pang of pain upon laying eyes on this bittersweet scenario, but he quickly looked away to cut off the source of his sadness. He spat onto the ground, tied his cloak harness on his chest, and threw the fabric behind him, creating a soft rippling effect against the wind, as he made his way through the crowd with unease. He decided that mulling over companionship would be a pitiful distraction in his quest for powerful, ancient magics and their applications. I left the college for this very purpose, I cannot stand to lose sight of my goal this early into my journey, he reminded himself sternly as he pushed his way roughly through the crowd. Apparently, the Festival of Belda was being held, according to the locals, in honor of his heroic triumph over Zhiena, some evil goddess from the underground. Pssh, what a load of hog wash, he thought to himself with an audible, condescending huff as he recalled the reason for celebration. No one really knew whether or not these stupid gods and goddesses really existed, and these sorts of stories ALWAYS had some sort of hidden twist in them. Ryden knew that the victors wrote the scrolls of history from their glorified point of view, and completely hacked off the monstrosities they committed against the opposing side; he becomes sickened at the idea of a twisted, exalted story declared as truth, as much as he didn't care about much of anything other than his own advancement in magic.
The cat boy took a deep whiff of the air, taking in all the scents of the festival, when suddenly, his pupils slit themselves sharply in a disturbing realization. There was an odd, disconcerting scent floating about, the smell of anxiety and worry. He noticed that all people except the mentally incapacitated, whether through alcohol or something else, had a look of nervousness on their faces that was alarmingly widespread all across the plaza. Of course, being one of the few Sabers in Argonia, a lot of the humans and elves from the crowd sourced their unease partially from the eerie sight of his abysmally dark hair and threatening scarlet eyes. He sensed, however, that he was the least of their troubles, as he noticed several blue coated, mysterious figures coming through the city. He tried to blend himself as hard as he could within the horde of people, trying not to draw attention to himself as he drew the hood of his purple cloak lower to cast a deeper shadow across his face. He skittered across the narrow spaces of the crowd, gracefully sidestepping the bodies, minding the drunks, the whores, and the hyperactive festival goers. He was so focused on speed maneuvering through the crowd, that he could not stop himself in time from bumping into this huge, hulking golem of a man, both figuratively AND literally. Ryden saw several prosthetic parts of unknown yet exotic material that replaced the organic limbs of the man. He gawked at him, rather rudely, in awe at the expert application of this magical procedure. Several thoughts coursed through his mind: he wanted to ask how he got those parts, who attached the limbs, how he put the man together, what kind of magical spells were used in his creation, and so many other insensitive inquiries that would earn him a knuckle sandwich if he dared to open his mouth and ask. Instead, he stood strong, looked the man straight in the eye, and offered his apologies for his clumsiness. "My name is Ryden. Ryden Zenta. I was dashing through the crowd and didn't really look at where I was going, so I'm sorry for bumping into you," he said apologetically with a small smile.
100 Gold
Ryden sighed as he wrapped himself quickly with a velvet, violet cloak to shield himself from the chills of the nightly breeze. The city of Zorrodawn was a gangly, chaotic mess right now because of the festival: drunkards roamed the streets and tried to get their grubby arms on the fair maidens who chatted about, only to get poked in the bum by the local city guards as a warning. He saw groups of friends surrounding a food stall, laughing the night away, genuinely enjoying each other's company; he felt a small pang of pain upon laying eyes on this bittersweet scenario, but he quickly looked away to cut off the source of his sadness. He spat onto the ground, tied his cloak harness on his chest, and threw the fabric behind him, creating a soft rippling effect against the wind, as he made his way through the crowd with unease. He decided that mulling over companionship would be a pitiful distraction in his quest for powerful, ancient magics and their applications. I left the college for this very purpose, I cannot stand to lose sight of my goal this early into my journey, he reminded himself sternly as he pushed his way roughly through the crowd. Apparently, the Festival of Belda was being held, according to the locals, in honor of his heroic triumph over Zhiena, some evil goddess from the underground. Pssh, what a load of hog wash, he thought to himself with an audible, condescending huff as he recalled the reason for celebration. No one really knew whether or not these stupid gods and goddesses really existed, and these sorts of stories ALWAYS had some sort of hidden twist in them. Ryden knew that the victors wrote the scrolls of history from their glorified point of view, and completely hacked off the monstrosities they committed against the opposing side; he becomes sickened at the idea of a twisted, exalted story declared as truth, as much as he didn't care about much of anything other than his own advancement in magic.
The cat boy took a deep whiff of the air, taking in all the scents of the festival, when suddenly, his pupils slit themselves sharply in a disturbing realization. There was an odd, disconcerting scent floating about, the smell of anxiety and worry. He noticed that all people except the mentally incapacitated, whether through alcohol or something else, had a look of nervousness on their faces that was alarmingly widespread all across the plaza. Of course, being one of the few Sabers in Argonia, a lot of the humans and elves from the crowd sourced their unease partially from the eerie sight of his abysmally dark hair and threatening scarlet eyes. He sensed, however, that he was the least of their troubles, as he noticed several blue coated, mysterious figures coming through the city. He tried to blend himself as hard as he could within the horde of people, trying not to draw attention to himself as he drew the hood of his purple cloak lower to cast a deeper shadow across his face. He skittered across the narrow spaces of the crowd, gracefully sidestepping the bodies, minding the drunks, the whores, and the hyperactive festival goers. He was so focused on speed maneuvering through the crowd, that he could not stop himself in time from bumping into this huge, hulking golem of a man, both figuratively AND literally. Ryden saw several prosthetic parts of unknown yet exotic material that replaced the organic limbs of the man. He gawked at him, rather rudely, in awe at the expert application of this magical procedure. Several thoughts coursed through his mind: he wanted to ask how he got those parts, who attached the limbs, how he put the man together, what kind of magical spells were used in his creation, and so many other insensitive inquiries that would earn him a knuckle sandwich if he dared to open his mouth and ask. Instead, he stood strong, looked the man straight in the eye, and offered his apologies for his clumsiness. "My name is Ryden. Ryden Zenta. I was dashing through the crowd and didn't really look at where I was going, so I'm sorry for bumping into you," he said apologetically with a small smile.
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