ManoftheNorth
Member
A Bear
- Last Seen: 7 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: ManoftheNorth
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 1136 (0.25 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- ManoftheNorth 12 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
Most Recent Posts
You don't dis all of America, you dis the American Leaders. Ok? I am an American, and I dislike our leaders, but I love our land and what it was built for, do not slam a nation, for it's modern idiocracy, blame the Idiot leading this idiocracy.
I hate to be "that guy", but Nikolai, are you actually reading the IC? Because you just described it as sunny and warm outside in your post... when in mine, and many before it, we have defined a storm in the camp. A pretty good thunderstorm with chilly winds and heavy winds.
So, you might want to take a bit and read the posts, before posting.
So, you might want to take a bit and read the posts, before posting.
Well, I am still very much in Vicier's Camp Half-Blood(Modern Day, Greek Demi-God, Percy Jackson)Rp, and I am about to restart my SAO(Sword Art Online)Rp, as well as start a Fallout Rp, and I joined another Post-Apocalyptic Rp.
That is terrible TLoC. My deepest condolences.
I understand Akela, it was a pleasure rping with you all here, and it was a good story to have had the opportunity to write alongside you all.
I understand Akela, it was a pleasure rping with you all here, and it was a good story to have had the opportunity to write alongside you all.
So the Aphrodite girls were just jealous of her... Oscar was an asshole, but he was right... There were people who cared about her here... And Adam didn't want and wasn't going to let her go even if she wanted to. Lifting her head slightly she looked up at him silently her head working a million miles per hour while her mouth and voice on the other hand didn't want to even try, she couldn't just lay there and stare at him... He was cute, definitely. Extremely attractive, by gods yes. But that wasn't the point. If she stared at him any longer without speaking she really would be considered a freak, "You're right... I'm sorry I even thought about leaving... It was stupid. Thank you Adam, for looking out for me when I clearly can't." Dropping her gaze again she hugged him tightly her eyes closing once more as she cuddled closer into his side.
Adam wanted to tell her that she wasn't stupid, and that she could look after herself. He wanted to say so many things, some of which he was sure would drive an awkward wedge between them if he did speak, but he kept quiet. He smiled warmly as she hugged him and his eyes closed slowly to the warmth of the moment. He hugged her back softly, but with care and wrapped his arms around her as she slid further into his side. His heart raced a moment, before settling to the nature of the hug and his calmed thoughts. He sighed softly in content as they sat there moment, in an a caring embrace before Adam finally spoke once more.
"Erin.. It isn't that you can't look out for yourself, it is just that I will always be here to look after you whether you need me to or not." He lowered his head slightly to rest it with her's and he sighed once more in content, this time certain he would stay quite. He had a bad knack for wanting to get the last word out, good or bad. He felt that in these sort of situations, the person giving comfort should get the last word, even though that wasn't always the case.
Chris stood over the stonework of his forge, the storm erupting all around. Blistering chills splintered the nerves of those around the camp and many sought the warmth of their cabins and the main building. Chris though, he was unaltered, and kept to his forge. He raised his hammer time and time again, pounding the finishing touches of the cherry red metal on his anvil. The fire in the pit of the forge rumbled to a smolder as the dying heat withered in the storm, but Chris continued on with the metal as he turned and dunked it into a pool of water next to his coal pile. The metal sizzled heavily under the cold of the water and steam filled the air about Chris, leaving only a simple outline left in his place.
The steam cleared, moments later, as the sound of metal and stone grinding together filled the air and Chris' ears. His new piece was being ground to an edge and with time, it was slowing pulling together to what he wanted, but it was going to take time. He slid the blade into a leather sleeve and then stood from the grinding wheel and heated the fire of the forge to produce more heat. He wasn't cold, but he didn't want the chance to overcome his current state of adrenaline and unnerving power. Once the fire was large, and roaring through the air of the forge he returned to his new project and the grind wheel. The wheel spun to life and the metal clashed with the stone creating a storm of it's own formed of the sparks of creation. The sparks halted and the sound of metal and stone clashing ended as he lifted the metal up to inspect the edge, half an hour passed over all, and it was finally finished. He stood from the grinding wheel and held the project firmly in his right hand while muttering to himself a moment.
"The balance... the weight... the form..." He muttered as he shifted his stance with the metal object in his hand and he seemed to dance about the Forge, but in a masculine manner, like a warrior's dance across the field. "Father..." He added in a whisper as he pressed the blade above the forge's fire and watched it glimmer brilliantly. "Silver's light... Silverlight... of course. My new blade will be dubbed 'Silverlight." He held the grand new blade, a metallurgy creation of steel and silver, a blade fit for a Demi-god. It held nothing anymore special then any other blade, aside from it's silver and what Silver was strong against. It was said forging a metallurgy weapon of Silver could have repercussions for a Forgemaster and their forge, but none were evident to Chris.
Chris stepped a few feet from the main part of his forge, and was now at the set-off part of his Forge's location that held all of his tanning and leatherworking materials and tools. He took up a long thick, wide section leather and his leather knife, a long and thin, yet sturdy, blade designed to cut and section thicker leathers with ease. The leather was dark and held a deep midnight color to it, almost as if it had hints of blue in it, and he began to square it off in the shape of a square sheath. Then after getting the square he began the tedious work of detailing the shape further for a Saber's Sheath. Once all of the pieces were ready he took up a few pieces of metal, tacks, and leather thread strips and began assembling the sheath. The finished product was a naturally black leather sheath, tipped and based in silver, with burgundy leather strips tying the seam down the outer side of the sheath. He looked in a sense pride over his creations, a blade and it's sheath, both of which were designed to accent him as a person. He poured his heart and soul into both the blade and it scabbard. A silver metallurgy blade, a Forgemaster's grand creation, and a sheath of pure Night Wolf leather, a hunter's trophy tool. His father and his legacy, both parts of the man that was Chris Levins, rolled into a single unit.
Adam wanted to tell her that she wasn't stupid, and that she could look after herself. He wanted to say so many things, some of which he was sure would drive an awkward wedge between them if he did speak, but he kept quiet. He smiled warmly as she hugged him and his eyes closed slowly to the warmth of the moment. He hugged her back softly, but with care and wrapped his arms around her as she slid further into his side. His heart raced a moment, before settling to the nature of the hug and his calmed thoughts. He sighed softly in content as they sat there moment, in an a caring embrace before Adam finally spoke once more.
"Erin.. It isn't that you can't look out for yourself, it is just that I will always be here to look after you whether you need me to or not." He lowered his head slightly to rest it with her's and he sighed once more in content, this time certain he would stay quite. He had a bad knack for wanting to get the last word out, good or bad. He felt that in these sort of situations, the person giving comfort should get the last word, even though that wasn't always the case.
Chris stood over the stonework of his forge, the storm erupting all around. Blistering chills splintered the nerves of those around the camp and many sought the warmth of their cabins and the main building. Chris though, he was unaltered, and kept to his forge. He raised his hammer time and time again, pounding the finishing touches of the cherry red metal on his anvil. The fire in the pit of the forge rumbled to a smolder as the dying heat withered in the storm, but Chris continued on with the metal as he turned and dunked it into a pool of water next to his coal pile. The metal sizzled heavily under the cold of the water and steam filled the air about Chris, leaving only a simple outline left in his place.
The steam cleared, moments later, as the sound of metal and stone grinding together filled the air and Chris' ears. His new piece was being ground to an edge and with time, it was slowing pulling together to what he wanted, but it was going to take time. He slid the blade into a leather sleeve and then stood from the grinding wheel and heated the fire of the forge to produce more heat. He wasn't cold, but he didn't want the chance to overcome his current state of adrenaline and unnerving power. Once the fire was large, and roaring through the air of the forge he returned to his new project and the grind wheel. The wheel spun to life and the metal clashed with the stone creating a storm of it's own formed of the sparks of creation. The sparks halted and the sound of metal and stone clashing ended as he lifted the metal up to inspect the edge, half an hour passed over all, and it was finally finished. He stood from the grinding wheel and held the project firmly in his right hand while muttering to himself a moment.
"The balance... the weight... the form..." He muttered as he shifted his stance with the metal object in his hand and he seemed to dance about the Forge, but in a masculine manner, like a warrior's dance across the field. "Father..." He added in a whisper as he pressed the blade above the forge's fire and watched it glimmer brilliantly. "Silver's light... Silverlight... of course. My new blade will be dubbed 'Silverlight." He held the grand new blade, a metallurgy creation of steel and silver, a blade fit for a Demi-god. It held nothing anymore special then any other blade, aside from it's silver and what Silver was strong against. It was said forging a metallurgy weapon of Silver could have repercussions for a Forgemaster and their forge, but none were evident to Chris.
Chris stepped a few feet from the main part of his forge, and was now at the set-off part of his Forge's location that held all of his tanning and leatherworking materials and tools. He took up a long thick, wide section leather and his leather knife, a long and thin, yet sturdy, blade designed to cut and section thicker leathers with ease. The leather was dark and held a deep midnight color to it, almost as if it had hints of blue in it, and he began to square it off in the shape of a square sheath. Then after getting the square he began the tedious work of detailing the shape further for a Saber's Sheath. Once all of the pieces were ready he took up a few pieces of metal, tacks, and leather thread strips and began assembling the sheath. The finished product was a naturally black leather sheath, tipped and based in silver, with burgundy leather strips tying the seam down the outer side of the sheath. He looked in a sense pride over his creations, a blade and it's sheath, both of which were designed to accent him as a person. He poured his heart and soul into both the blade and it scabbard. A silver metallurgy blade, a Forgemaster's grand creation, and a sheath of pure Night Wolf leather, a hunter's trophy tool. His father and his legacy, both parts of the man that was Chris Levins, rolled into a single unit.
I know, I am not a drinker myself. I rarely tip back a beer to be honest, but I just like making silly comments. :P It is all I got left in my life. XD
I am just informing everyone, that if the Original Poster doesn't post soon, that I will be making my Fallout Rp as originally intended before the discovery of this thread. All of you who have shown interest in a Fallout Rp are welcome to join me, when and if I do end up making my own. ^^
You are a wrong, only one thing goes good with Alcohol at the bar.... more alcohol. I love the taste of alcohol, accented by alcohol, with a hint of alcohol.
Character Sheet.
Name: Alexander *Banehollow*(His last name is lost to others, only he knows his true last name, but he has replaced it with another.)
Age: 42* (*His mutations give him a physical body and physical age of 28.)
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Appearance:
Clothing:
Mutation(s): He has one major mutation overall, but much like an Organ System, this Mutation has several parts, or Mutations that connect to form a Mutation System. He has heightened senses, closely resembling a wolf's, as well as quicker and stronger muscles. His eyes resemble that of a Canine, but also possess low-light vision capabilites.(Night Vision) He has taken on many physical aspects of Canines, such as slightly pointed ears, tougher and sharper nails forming slight claws, enlarged Canine Fangs, and a disposition to facial hair and body hair. He also has a unique capability to "connect" with other Canines, such as dogs and wolves he crosses in the waste. They seem to understand him in some ways, and he posses an "Alpha"-like power over those without a strong will, or without a pack.There are side effects to his mutations though, his muscles being stronger and faster have caused his metabolism to increase ten-fold, much like others with similar mutations. He also has increased energy stores due ot his mutations which in turn cause his hands to shake, when he tries to steady them for shooting. This makes firearms useless to him, but he will still collect them for trade and sell if he can. While his hands shake while trying to aim, he still holds the capability of stealth, much like the wolf he is able to be quiet and slick when he needs to be, and uses this to his advantage. Aside from his increased metabolism, and aimless hands, he also has a variety of growing, and yet unknown side effects.(This are going to be though of, and introduced throughout the span of the RP as he develops as a character.)
Weapon(s):
Gear:
Faction: (Leave blank for now)
Currency: $0.50 In the form of a Half-Dollar piece he keeps tucked in a pocket on the inside of his jacket.
Short History: Alexander was born to parents who left him abandoned, they were a less then reputable sort and felt leaving him somewhere with better people would prevent him from being like them. He was left in a small outpost with no name, and only a handful of people, a straggler's family they called themselves. An assortment of scavs and merchants that tried to peddle and scavenge everything they could, whenever they could put their mits on the stuff.
Though he grew up among relatively good people, something inside him grew as he did, as the years passed it become more and more relevant. His mutations were given to him from birth, through a lesser grade of radiation poisoning his mother had obtained. Once he was older, it became completely apperant that he was beyond socially acceptable in the outpost. His animalistic features pushed the tenents away and his inner, primal instincts called out to him. He wasn't cast out of the grounds, but everyone kept their distance and they only interacted with him when they truly had to, and even then it was as minimaistic as possible.
He trained through his years at the outpost, always practicing his melee skills and learning all he could about fighting. He tried firearms a few times, but his mutations prevented any form of success to emerge so he stuck with melee combat and then moved onto stealth, scouting, and wilderness knowledge and training. During the end years of his wilderness training, as he wrote a few journals and knowledge books for everything he learned, he realized this where he belonged, the wild. He belonged in the wastes and the wilds of the world left behind, so on the day of his twenty years in the Outpost, he left and immersed himself in the wilds, taking with him supplies in a pack and an axe for a weapon.
I finally got my CS done, I know it isn't a grand CS, but I have been dealing with some stuff lately, so my mind is still a bit stressed. I will read the Ic later on tonight when I get home from town, and then I will try and post if I can.
Name: Alexander *Banehollow*(His last name is lost to others, only he knows his true last name, but he has replaced it with another.)
Age: 42* (*His mutations give him a physical body and physical age of 28.)
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Appearance:
Clothing:
Mutation(s): He has one major mutation overall, but much like an Organ System, this Mutation has several parts, or Mutations that connect to form a Mutation System. He has heightened senses, closely resembling a wolf's, as well as quicker and stronger muscles. His eyes resemble that of a Canine, but also possess low-light vision capabilites.(Night Vision) He has taken on many physical aspects of Canines, such as slightly pointed ears, tougher and sharper nails forming slight claws, enlarged Canine Fangs, and a disposition to facial hair and body hair. He also has a unique capability to "connect" with other Canines, such as dogs and wolves he crosses in the waste. They seem to understand him in some ways, and he posses an "Alpha"-like power over those without a strong will, or without a pack.There are side effects to his mutations though, his muscles being stronger and faster have caused his metabolism to increase ten-fold, much like others with similar mutations. He also has increased energy stores due ot his mutations which in turn cause his hands to shake, when he tries to steady them for shooting. This makes firearms useless to him, but he will still collect them for trade and sell if he can. While his hands shake while trying to aim, he still holds the capability of stealth, much like the wolf he is able to be quiet and slick when he needs to be, and uses this to his advantage. Aside from his increased metabolism, and aimless hands, he also has a variety of growing, and yet unknown side effects.(This are going to be though of, and introduced throughout the span of the RP as he develops as a character.)
Weapon(s):
Gear:
(Yes, he has three of them. They are on his belt. This is realistic.)
(He doesn't have the four canisters, but he has the three pieces to make the spit for cooking.)
Faction: (Leave blank for now)
Currency: $0.50 In the form of a Half-Dollar piece he keeps tucked in a pocket on the inside of his jacket.
Short History: Alexander was born to parents who left him abandoned, they were a less then reputable sort and felt leaving him somewhere with better people would prevent him from being like them. He was left in a small outpost with no name, and only a handful of people, a straggler's family they called themselves. An assortment of scavs and merchants that tried to peddle and scavenge everything they could, whenever they could put their mits on the stuff.
Though he grew up among relatively good people, something inside him grew as he did, as the years passed it become more and more relevant. His mutations were given to him from birth, through a lesser grade of radiation poisoning his mother had obtained. Once he was older, it became completely apperant that he was beyond socially acceptable in the outpost. His animalistic features pushed the tenents away and his inner, primal instincts called out to him. He wasn't cast out of the grounds, but everyone kept their distance and they only interacted with him when they truly had to, and even then it was as minimaistic as possible.
He trained through his years at the outpost, always practicing his melee skills and learning all he could about fighting. He tried firearms a few times, but his mutations prevented any form of success to emerge so he stuck with melee combat and then moved onto stealth, scouting, and wilderness knowledge and training. During the end years of his wilderness training, as he wrote a few journals and knowledge books for everything he learned, he realized this where he belonged, the wild. He belonged in the wastes and the wilds of the world left behind, so on the day of his twenty years in the Outpost, he left and immersed himself in the wilds, taking with him supplies in a pack and an axe for a weapon.
I finally got my CS done, I know it isn't a grand CS, but I have been dealing with some stuff lately, so my mind is still a bit stressed. I will read the Ic later on tonight when I get home from town, and then I will try and post if I can.
Are you referring to the plot Idea I posted, or to the Thread's Original Poster?
© 2007-2026