Avatar of Obscene Symphony

Status

Recent Statuses

8 days ago
Current p accurate description tbh
8 days ago
for ransom?
6 likes
11 days ago
are y'all really scandalized by someone writing a bad guy
13 days ago
@Baph a) I never said not to give explanations, although most people get butthurt when you have anything less than praise for their writing; b) it's not a "voice," some people just plain aren't good
1 like
14 days ago
Sometimes no amount of editing is gonna fix a sheet, ex when the tone of the character is completely mismatched to the RP, or the writing quality is super mismatched to the group
5 likes

Bio

child of the storm

Current RPs:

Archived RPs:

If you're interested in some short completed pieces of mine beyond my regular RP posts, feel free to rifle through my filing cabinet here.

About me:
  • Birth year 1998
  • Female
  • Canadian RIP
  • Time zone: Atlantic, GMT-4 (one hour ahead of EST)
  • Currently judging your grammar
  • Not usually looking for 1x1s but if you're really jonesing, my PMs are always open
  • Discord Obscene#1925

Most Recent Posts

Name: Linta of the North Tree
Gender: Female

Race: Tree Person
Height: 5'4
Build: Lithe
Eyes: Dark, saturated green.
Hair: Sandy blonde, falls to waist.
Skin: Medium-fair, speckled in places with moles.

Notable Features: Tail is disproportionately long; tip brushes ground when upright and relaxed. Usually held wrapped loosely around one leg at rest, or hovering behind in motion. Often adorned with cord wrapping, feathers or beads.
Usually wears hair braided, with multiple feathers twisted in.

Occupation: None


Name: Linta of the North Tree
Age: 22, (Brand new adult)

Sex: Female
Race: Tree Person
Height: 5'4
Build: Lithe
Eyes: Hazel
Hair: Straw-blonde, reaches waist when loose, mid-back when braided. Almost always worn braided with various feathers braided in.
Tail: Disproportionately long, capable of brushing the ground when standing. Tipped with a tuft of straw-blonde hair, often decorated with cord and feathers. She often holds it wrapped loosely around one leg while standing still.
@Belle yo, did Amalia notice the commotion going on with douche canoe Rynek? Could be of interest to her if you're stuck for something to write about.

noticemesenpai
Don't do this to me

how do you know my weakness is shifters
@WeepingLiberty Wilhelm is callin u out

Bride of Azilon Dantanath @WeepingLiberty, sister-bride to Rya Mire @Ellion
Reacting near the new fam and taking note of Rynek Darion @NarcissisticPotato

Lienna had not been kneeling more than a few seconds before a new voice came from above her, this one distinctly female. She dared not look up, but she could feel another set of eyes boring into her, and the newcomer's words and cadence made the hair on her neck stand on end.

โ€œMy oh my. Seems you scored an alright girl after all, I was half expecting them to hand you the leftovers. A bit uptight for my tastes, but sheโ€™ll suit you just fine dear brother.โ€

It seemed as close to a compliment as she could have expected, given the circumstances, and Lienna couldn't help but feel a tiny hint of pride beneath the tightness in her chest. If her husband's sister (as she seemed to be, judging by her words) approved of her, perhaps her husband would as well. Perhaps, she dared to hope, there was a chance she could find a place in this new life.

Her husband's own comment was somewhat less glowing, but Lienna considered it a win nonetheless. If "just fine" meant being safe from cruelty, anyway. Still, she couldn't help but notice a twinge of... Was that disappointment? Surely not, she thought. "Just fine" was perhaps an even better response from her new husband than a more interested one; after all, it could mean that he wouldn't force himself on her, or at least not often. So why did she feel so slighted?

Azilon asked her to stand and Rya offered a hand, albeit looking more like she did it for her own reasons than because she was told to do so. While Lienna would rather not have taken it, deigning instead to rise on her own, she touched Rya's hand nonetheless as she stood. She had never been much for affection, but this girl looked as if she needed every friendly gesture she could get.

Once on her feet, Azilon took hold of her left arm, much gentler than it looked like his huge hands could have been capable of, and produced the dreaded silver chain. Deftly, he tied the fragile-looking leash around her wrist, thus linking her to Rya, before releasing her. Lienna froze, and for a moment, could only stare at the chain. It really would have been beautiful had its purpose not polluted it; it looked delicate, but she could only imagine that somehow it was stronger than it looked. She could probably have untied it if she wanted to, but she dared not even move to touch it, for fear of punishment. Sure, her husband seemed calm enough, but one could never be sure. She'd seen girls mutilated for smaller offenses than what would have looked like an attempt at escape.

Eventually she peeled her eyes away from the chain and looked toward Rya instead. She swallowed the lump in her throat and slowly lowered her arm, the chain, light as it was, feeling like a lead weight on her wrist. She willed herself to calm down, to stop making a fool of herself with this doe-eyed display. So she was tethered to her sister-bride, so what? Surely it was a kinder fate than many of the other girls in the room. Some of them had already been struck to the ground. And perhaps this was not a permanent arrangement, but temporary; a way for her husband to mark them as his. At Shadow Worth, they'd been told that some Drakken opted to brand their brides as a proof of ownership. This, she told herself, was a far preferable alternative.

It wasn't until Azilon addressed them again that Lienna started listening to the conversation around them once more. It seemed they wouldn't linger here, and would be embarking on the long journey to her new home. However, Azilon was scarcely allowed to finish before a commotion, in the form of a cloaked man, entered the room.

"So who does a guy have to talk to around here to get one of those pretty little Gems?"

Lienna whirled around to get a look at the newcomer. There happened to be no one between him and her little group, so she had full view of him, not that there was much to see. A tall Drakkan figure (albeit they all looked tall to her) in a heavy cloak, brandishing a spear like a staff. Lienna would have thought him an old man, by his posture and attire, had it not been for the young man's voice booming out of him.

A Drakkan female - the same adorned one who had delivered Lienna to her husband mere moments before, stepped forward to reply. Her challenge had an air of mockery, but she was clearly tense; if she thought this man was a threat, she appeared prepared to deal with him. Meanwhile, the newcomer seemed entirely relaxed. His ensemble even started making bets.

Despite the newcomer's airy response, Lienna could feel a tension in the air - whether it came from the newcomer, the female, or the rest of the room, she couldn't tell. Azilon seemed ready to react, as did many others, but the intruder was not disturbed.

Tense as it was, the intruder's display was fascinating. It reminded her of the territorial displays of certain more... flamboyant birds up North. He had every Drakkan in the room ready to jump on him, and yet he approached the female unarmed and undaunted. His tone was light, but had an undeniable edge to it. He was confident, cocky even, but it didn't seem altogether unearned. Surely he was either very skilled or very stupid.

He had Lienna's full attention. The room seemed to hang on his every word. He threw off his cloak to reveal himself, a tall, lithe specimen, black-clad and topped by a mess of white hair. He wanted a bride.

No, wait. He wanted her.

"That one. I want that one. I'll kill anyone who begs to differ."

Suddenly, the world jerked sideways. The edges of Lienna's vision darkened, and the distance between herself and the intruder, this Darion, seemed to lengthen. Her next heartbeat hit her like a blow to the chest, and time resumed once more. Luckily, she kept her footing, and the wave of dizziness passed away as quickly as it came.

For the briefest of moments, as he pointed her out, Lienna caught a glimpse of his eyes. This man was no flamboyant arctic bird. No, not at all. Lienna was reminded of the time she'd been out looking for a certain species of pine needles, and had crossed paths with an enormous arctic wolf. It had eyes like ice, and a bristling coat that blended into the snow near-seamlessly. It had the sort of stare that defied translation, and betrayed nothing of the soul within but danger. The resemblance was uncanny.

Lienna didn't move. She barely breathed. That day in the forest she had stared down the wolf for what felt like hours, knowing a sudden move could mean her death. The intruder looked away after only a second, but Lienna kept her eyes trained on him, not daring surrender an inch. Would Azilon defend her? Throw her to the wolf? Despite the fear that gripped her, an excitement boiled in her as well. Dangerous or not, this one seemed like something she could work with. Whether she would need to, she couldn't yet tell.

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