Recent Statuses

4 mos ago
Current You heard 'em, chaps, lock the gal up! No marriage here! Freedom! Single Pringles only! Vivia la baguette!
1 yr ago
Apologies for poofing, stuff is popping up at work and I needa relax today and tomorrow before posting again.
1 yr ago
Am sick; posts delayed; help me pls
1 like
3 yrs ago
If the Earth is flat, then how does one explain tens of thousands of people all across the globe in various space agencies not ONCE leaking that it's all a lie and everything's flat?
3 yrs ago
Got myself Overwatch's Pink Mercy skin for charity!


I'll be honest, I don't wanna put a bio up cause I'm afraid I'll scare people off by writing plainly, but not really interested in taking a bunch of time for am that formatting.

So if ya wanna chat, do send a PM!

If you're a friend of mine and wanna see the bio filled, and wanna write a truthful description of yours truly, lemme know! A description from a third party is alwayd the best kind.

Most Recent Posts

Fareeha Amari
Mamlakat Asslahra

Fareeha... did not want to be here, in short.

Pulling up to the Aciran estate was relatively underwhelming-- looking at it, she couldn't help that she would genuinely enjoy this place if she wasn't being forced here to marry a man who might very well give up his title any day now. And what would that say about her and her family? That she was so undesirable that literally not being royalty was a good price? It didn't matter what the man himself thought or felt or what the history of that had been, it would a blow to her reputation, as little as she cared for it, and further more to her line, which she did care for. Enemies will be able to use that for generations, really, if they were vindictive enough.

That being said, Fareeha fully intended to... maybe not encourage it, but certainly not discourage it. Hers was the country made of robbers, murderers, exiled soldiers, and more. It would be annoying to deal with in future years, but a marriage she didn't want? That he didn't want? Ugh, hard pass.

The woman in flowing black silk sighed and stepped out of her vehicle, giving a slight courtesy to her driver, holding the door open for her. Avlens was such a friendly chauffeur, he had actually talked to her the entire way here. It helped calm the nerves, no matter how she might deny them.

Marching up the steps after the last person-- Alejandro, she noted, primarily by the extravagance of his garb-- she raised a genuine, if small, smile to the Royal Family of Aciras.

"Greetings from the sands of Mamlakat Asslahra, Royalties of Aciras. A pleasure to be hosted by your wonderful kingdom," Fareeha began, before going on to pay a personal compliment to each of the members of her host. After finishing her greet and paying her respects, Princess Amari finished with, "And may your days be blessed with warm sands."

After finishing, she stepped aside and glided through the door, briefly closing her eyes-- before opening them to hear Quentin. Oh dear, him again. She'll have to wander a bit once he caught up to her-- she didn't really want to talk to anyone here, not at the moment.

Quentin Houston
Tessian Sovereignty

Quentin straightened his tie and sighed, deeply. He was excited! He was. But also afraid.

Durrell clasped him on the shoulder, glancing over Quentin's shoulder to look at his reflection in the mirror before him.

"You'll do fine, man. I mean, yeah, they'll eat you alive, but the good thing is that it'll make for great content!"

Durrell's humor did not comfort Quentin, not in the private space he was using to finish readying up before actually leaving for the event. Still, he gave his friend and editor a smile, clasped him on the shoulder, and pulled him into a hug. "Thanks for doing what you're doing, man. Not everyone's lucky enough to have as great of an editor to annoy their ass."

The man only laughed and returned his hug, before stepping back and tugging at Quentin's suit, straightening it. "Get out there, man. They're Kingdom Royalty, but you're Youtube Famous, whatever the hell that means."

Stepping up behind Fareeha Amari-- lovely lady, she seemed equally amused and annoyed at him-- he finished buttoning up his jacket just before coming before Raven and her family. Stretching a grin across his face, crinkling his eyes up into halfmoons and stepping forward almost before Fareeha had cleared the area, he clasped Raven's hand in his and gave each member of the family a bow, briefly meeting each of their eyes with an almost laughing smile.

"It's great to see all of you again! I wish I could visit more often, and I do really, really love what you've done with everything, Princess, it looks stunning, it really does. If I had half the style, I wouldn't have to spend my time doing what I do, you know?" He gave them each a warm, enthusiastic greeting, personally complimenting at least one thing, always trying to poke a little fun and bring a little smile-- but on Royalty, he wasn't sure how effective. Didn't mean he wouldn't try.

Finishing up, he stepped to the side and entered the ballroom behind, giving the Princess a last short wave and half-hopping into the room.

Coming up behind Fareeha Amari, be briefly exchanged a greeting with her-- enough to get her to roll her eyes and gently shove his shoulder towards the rest of the room-- before he split off, marching into the room and surveying the crowd.

Crowd of politicians, princes and princesses, some of which who hated his guts.

His smiled widened and he clasped his hands, surveying the elegance and style of the beautiful attendees.

Then, of course, his gaze landed on his betrothed, Princess Maeryn Ozzette Raske. Ryn Raske. A dangerous woman from a dangerous family, and it just now settled onto him the reality-- he was going to merry the princess flayer. Even as he stared, he noted Beatrice of the Konigreich approaching them. Those three he'd approach first, he decided.

Of course, Ryn looked like she could seduce any man alive and was gloriously sexy. Sort of the whole don't stick your dick in crazy idea, except he was deadass betrothed to it, and her family likely wouldn't mind if he ended up getting diced like a tomato. He honestly wasn't sure if his family would mind either, so long as it secured them the threat of being allied with the Raskes.

Beatrice was scary, but she was also beautiful, but more in the way an extremely well crafted and decorated rapier was-- elegant, graceful, and could poke you where you hurt most.

Naturally he marched right up and gave the Flayer, the Rapier, and Prince Raiden-- he didn't have a good metaphor for him, to be honest, but that might be just because he liked boobs-- a bow, popping up again with that infallible smile and turning to a passing waiter, flagging him with a polite nod of the head. "Cup of white grape juice with some lemon squeezed into it to make it screw up my eyes like I'm drinking hard alcohol, thank you." The waiter's face just briefly broke from its mask to give him that what-the-fuck glance, before smoothing over again and hurrying away.

He turned to three-- primarily Ryn-- and refocused his beam on her-- err, them (Don't blame him, it was those legs, Beatrice can compete but won't win against Ryn, in Quentin's opinion). "Howdy Princess Maeryn Raske! A pleasure to be of acquaintance to ya once again. And you, Prince Zhao Raiden! And greetings to you once more, Princess Beatrice of the ever hardy Konigreich. I'm not used to walking up to a beautiful pair-- or, triplets?-- so do you think I'm doing okay? Should I..." Quentin patted his pockets and lapel, as if searching for something. "I don't know, draw a knife, knock back hard liquor? Honestly, it's easier jumping off a cliff to approach you three, and I can actually speak from experience on that."

Quentin glanced between the three, shooting off as if it were the most natural thing in the world, nevermind the fact that he came up behind them while they were staring at awkward moments made incarnate walking around.

Prince of the Texan Sovereignty,
Quentin Houston

Events such as these were right up Quentin's alley!

This was sarcastic, of course. They were not.

Trying to pretend that he belonged, Quentin managed to get aaaalllll the way through the niceties and polite...ities? and respectities and politics surrounding a very big event that he was invited to for some reason (???) until he, after over thirty hours without his signature hat... wore his hat.

God, this was a more casual event anyways, nobody would probably even care or notice that he was wearing his cowboy hat. It was white-- it was no flashy colors. No one would care, he reassured himself, as he dressed in a suit his servants-- hired on a month earlier from his friendgroup, who were mockingly formal in how they 'served' him. They also reassured him that no one would mind the hat.

Quentin didn't regret wearing the hat, but he did regret trusting his friends. He could see Princes and Princesses and even a few of those ever so blank servants glancing at his hat, as he warmly greeted his hosts. A handshake with them might've been out of place, but he always preferred the straightforward approach and still didn't really get the whole bowing thing. Nonetheless, he managed to get out of that without offending anyone-- he thought-- and even seemed to get a genuinely warm smile out of the so very pink Lea! So he must've been doing okay.

But still, everyone was glancing at his hat. He pretended to not notice, of course-- he was very good at noticing things and not commenting on them, because being a know-it-all wasn't often funny and comedic-- but it made him feel quite self-conscious.

So the big man, standing as tall or taller than every other member of royalty in the room, made even more prominent with his hat adding another four inches, found himself standing somewhat alone-- how would he even approach royalty?-- as he studied the meat selection at the snack table. Specifically, judging its quality in both preparation and in ingredients. He found some lackluster, and some to be quite impressive.

But there was none of his family's premium meats here. The best in the world... none of it served here. Huh! He'd have to change that, Quentin thought to himself as he chewed on his twelfth meatball.
Princess of Mamlakat Assalhra,

Fareeha hated people.

Well, not all people. She just hated mostly everyone. And that was for a simple reason: they were terribly, terribly boring, and average. They weren't amusing, or even original.

So while she wasn't particularly looking forward to dealing with a thousand and a half egotistical members of royalty... she'd happily take it in favor of leaving home for a spell and getting away from the increasing pressure of her parents and tutors, her studies and her... well, politics. But internal ones. These external politics with a bunch of grown children from the countries across the seas is relatively removed, and largely... well, somewhat irrelevant to her. They had no real 'neighbors' because Mamlakat Asslahra is a giant island, surrounded by international waters... so if a prince or princess gets a little offended, eeeeh, it's mostly alright.

So here she was, marching through the hallways of an admittedly impressive castle and palace, to greet her host.

The pinkest, most girly, most... disgusting excited and happy Princess that Fareeha has ever seen. So much pink. Why is there so much pink. But nonetheless, the Princess Lea's effect on the normally stoic 'Snake Queen,' as the internet community called her, was apparent-- Fareeha couldn't help but a slightly miffed sigh and a smile breaking out on her face, as she-- gracefully! mind-- marched up to her hosts, dressed smartly and handsomely instead of prettily or regally.

It was a quick exchange, however, with the hosts of the Aciran kingdom-- just a compliment on how Fareeha could never pull off such a beautiful gown, a warm smile-- that she was quite unused to but let it slide-- and respect given to all the hosts.

Then the woman was out on the floor, sighing for just a brief moment at getting the most formal part of this out of the way.

Scanning the room, Fareeha concluded... that she knew next to no one here. Reaching up to the silent and still form of her ball python, Farih, curled around her neck inside of her collar, she gently stroked the snake's head, feeling the girl shift slightly as her head came up to meet the pets.

<Snipped quote by OfWindAndRain>

they look good but pls add quentin's personality :D <3

no u

is done

© 2007-2017
BBCode Cheatsheet