Avatar of OfWindAndRain
  • Last Seen: 4 yrs ago
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    1. OfWindAndRain 10 yrs ago
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Recent Statuses

4 yrs ago
Current This account old AF
2 likes
5 yrs ago
You heard 'em, chaps, lock the gal up! No marriage here! Freedom! Single Pringles only! Vivia la baguette!
8 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?
11 likes
8 yrs ago
Got myself Overwatch's Pink Mercy skin for charity!
16 likes
8 yrs ago
Did you know that baby cheetahs are given Labrador puppies to bond with because they need a stress relief buddy.
9 likes

Bio

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

The man crouched, frowning. Inside his head, he could hear the thrumming of the archmage's control, forcing him to do one thing- investigate the Warlord's downfall. And he had found the Warlord, frozen in this Fate-forsaken waste, surrounded by his dead army. Some of them were beast-men, twisted by the same spell that gripped him, but most were regular, simple soldiers. Nonetheless, all of these men were dead, gone, many of them sporting wounds that no sword, arrow, or even catapult could cause. No, something truly frightening happened here, in the courtyard of the crumbling ice-castle.

He brushed away the snow and ice away from the Warlord's chest and face, revealing his features in full. He wore armor and helmet like any other, guantlet and boot, but that didn't stop him from being killed. By what?

The investigator scraped more ice away from his chest; where his chestplate could be, there was nothing but ice. He scraped more and more, before he realized that his chestplate was caved in- to the point where it likely reached the Warlord's heart.

By the Fates- when the man finally uncovered all the ice and snow, his chestplate really
was caved into his chest. There wasn't a single break, either- suggesting something had very slowly put more weight and pressure on it, so it'd bend, not break or tear. And when he stood up, and slowly stepped on the man's chest- he found the single, flat imprint in the man's chest to be exactly the same size as his boot.

Someone had literally stomped the Warlord's chest in. This was no rock, no debris, no arrow, no sword- this was a Whisperer's work. Looking around, it all made sense- no one but a Whisperer could cause such destruction, and leave no one of their own behind. And a Wright was more powerful than them all. If he had to make a bet- a Wright had been here.

That thought alone chilled him to the bone- far more than the biting wind could.

There was a Wright on the loose.



Mk!
So, this is a roleplay idea that I wanna try out with someone that I was inspired from the series, Fate's Forsaken. It's really good, just so ya'll know.

Here's the basis of the world:
The known world is rather limited- think of a single Kingdom spanning a continent about as large as Australia. There is the distant knowledge that other lands exist, but they're so far away and technology hasn't evolved enough to reach them. There's only one place that's closer, and no one even really remembers that place, anyways- because anyone who approaches is burned by the residing dragons.

The King rules over all with a more-than-iron fist- his rulers, each commanding their own section of the Kingdom, are usually very cruel and rule equally savagely, and only give way to maybe each other and definitely to their King.

Mages are under the King's command; all of them are magically bound, and while they can have great power, they are also somewhat rare and uncommon. Only a few willingly serve under the King; those few are the ones who use a special controlling spell to wield all the Kingdom's mages as puppetmasters. Mages are of the basic type- every spell drains their power, they generally use elemental magic, etc. etc.

Whisperers are extremely rare- and only in times of great conflict is a whispering Wright born. A Whisperer usually comes in one of three flavors: The Healer, the Crafter, or the Warrior. And a Whisperer's power comes from their lack of doubt- a Healer who believes he can heal anything likely could, whether it be mental or physical, with his applications. A Craftsmen who believes he could catch a deer with his trap, or wishes to bend a sword into a knot- could. And a Warrior who believes he can throw an unbalanced axe to hit the top of one of the tallest trees- likely could. They are extremely powerful when they do not doubt, and are very creative. A Wright is all three combined, and then some- as a Healer, he could convince his own body that he is forever young, as a Craftsman, he could convince himself that his hands are as hot as a dragon's flame, as strong as a giant, as tough as dragonshide, and as a Warrior, he could wield any weapon, always keep their balance, and be as devastating and effective as can be.

Whisperers are terribly strong and dangerous when they believe- which is most of their problem. That, and there is a small variety of poisons, all herbal, that completely negate their abilities.

And a Wright is only born in times of great conflict- so when the Kingdom is shaken, and falling apart, at war with itself, then there is going to be one person that is born to... wright these wrongs, so to speak.


The plot, I hear you anxiously wonder? Or maybe not anxiously wonder.

Either way, the general plot is- the Wright is hell-bent on annihilating everything 'evil,'- and he is my character- while your character- whoever they may be- ends up getting picked up by him along the way. The reasons for this vary, but the end result will be the Wright destroying everything that's tearing apart the Kingdom, and making it right. Your character may be trying to convince him to give it up, or on avenging their loved ones who were slain by agents of the King, or maybe trying to write the Wright's adventures- or simply wants to tag along. For whatever the reason, your character has joined up with mine- even if your character plans to eventually kill mine- while mine is hell-bent on destroying the King and his tainted influence on the land.
Priscilla stood outside the door, having already knocked once. She didn't knock a second time because she heard the thunk of a head on a nightstand and the muffled complaint of it.

It took another few moments for there to be a response, though, which she immediately replied to.

"Good morning, Jazelle! Sunder's just about up, if you want to get decent and join him to break you fast!" She had to raise her voice to counter the oakwood door's thickness. "There's your possibilities of bright futures and bacon awaiting you at his table! At least, that's what he wanted me to say."

She paused for several long moments, before adding, "If you don't need help with anything, I'll just wait out here to escort you to the dining hall."

((Sorry for short post, I've been feeling terrible. Head aching and such.))
I'ma toss my interest into this here river of creativity.

And stalk it hardcore.
@Lucidnonsense
I am... tentatively interested.

Just one or two major problems for me- I dunno about your standards or anything like that, but I'd really appreciate it if you kinda proofread your post. It's honestly difficult to read it when there's grammatical errors everywhere. Sentences are confusing, kind of misleading. Also, the examples you gave as an example of what city folk or town folk think of each other is... too much? It's really too drastic. I get the idea that you're trying to go for, but most people don't really think that in even half its seriousness?
@HaleyTheRandom
There is a post for you.

Hope you enjoy.

Fareeha Amari


Interacting with the Raven; @HaleyTheRandom Ariel


Fareeha was amused, to say the least. She could practically see the princess's conflict, struggling with some internal dilemma. Based on the timing of it and how she was more or less focused on her good self, she knew, more or less, what she was struggling over. So Fareeha just gave the girl another soft, calming smile, saying nothing.

Instead, she held up one slender finger- on her non-snake side- and gracefully spun around. Stalking to the food table, she hovered over it for several moments before snatching some of the yummiest, richest, most delightful chocolate items she could find in Aciras's inventory. Thankfully, Aciras appeared to have great love of having everything at breakfast; chocolate early in the morning was by far one of the best ideas humanity came up with.

Returning with a napkin in hand, and just a number or two above half a dozen chocolate treats in hand, Fareeha stood almost shoulder-to-shoulder with her new friend, Ariel the Raven, and munched contently on a chocolate ball-thing. Filled with caramel, with hints of something else and slightly... minty, fruity, it was one of the finest chocolaties she had ever tasted.

So, Fareeha plucked the second of its kind from her hand, and held it in front of Ariel's face, while Habi looked on, mildly curious.

"Try this one," she requested, simply.

It's been nearly a week and I still haven't the foggiest idea how to respond to the interesting introduction given by Niklas. At this point I am tempted to have Edwin stare at him for a full minute before going "Uhm. What are you on and where can I get some?"


>:D

@HaleyTheRandom

I'll have something up for Ariel/Fareeha today. Or maybe right now.
Priscilla watched Jazelle cautiously enter her room, confused and mentally assaulted with more questions about the girl than answers. Nonetheless, it wasn't her place to inquire about it; she was just a servant. Sometimes, such as this, she suspected that the simpler life is much better.

The servant gave a quick curtesy, turned away, and left the girl to her peace. She assumed that the foreigner would close her own door.





Priscilla waited until the sun was high in the sky- maybe a full hand off the horizon- before she knocked on Jazelle's door. It was about the same time as Sunder's wake-up, since he always slept in, due to his demanding job. If she ever mentioned waking up earlier, Sunder was always quick to point out that there was a reason he ate big meals, three or sometimes four times a day, and didn't have any flab whatsoever. Thus, she was hesitant to come any sooner- and Sunder wanted Jazelle to break their fast with him, anyways.

So, she knocked on the door, and awaited a response.
@Siaya Dragalorn
Either what I did last year- US Marine (my brother owns a bunch of stuff- real fatigues, kneepads, combat gloves, tactical vest, gas mask, or a sort of scavenger/survivor, using the pant fatigues, kneepads and gloves, plus gas mask, dirty-looking shirt (or plaid buttonup because Joel), and a trench coat. And combat boots.

You?

And yeah, isn't that how a bunch of things start?

And nah, no handing out candy. I'm greedy and I eat it all.
If I had any, that is. I just like dressing up.
@Siaya Dragalorn
Things are... going. But I guess they're alright.

Besides a costume? Nope. pretty much gonna do what I always do- nothin!

What about you? Everything alright on your end, plans for Hallow's Eve?
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