Recent Statuses

2 yrs ago
Current Merry Christmas boyos, don't forget to, like, be a good person and stuff. Also start thinkin of a new years resolution you'll actually go through with.
3 yrs ago
Status update: staying up all n8ght fuckin sucks and procrastination is a vile temptress.
1 like
5 yrs ago
4 months into this hole 'being a responsible adult thing' and I've come to a conclusion: It sucks and I want to go back to the days where I didn't have to plan out my game time.
1 like
5 yrs ago
Was supposed to be productive tonight. . . will try to be productive in the morning
5 yrs ago
Taking a short break from posting till Monday/Tuesday, hopefully will feel more creative and less brain-dead


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Most Recent Posts

"Sure, gearhead, or maybe your folks taught you to look at issues in too much of a box." Silme shrugs his bag off his shoulder, seeming ready to continue when a voice suddenly interjected itself into the conversation. Lilac eyes narrow at the newcomer, the low undercurrent of irritation spiking as the redhead swaggers onto the scene as if she owned the place. While Silme wasn't aware of her heritage, he could instantly recognize the swaggering walk of an Atelsian blowhard. He'd seen more than his fair share back when he lived in Mantle. He had used to try and play nice and make friends, but right now, he was in no mood to let someone come and berate him.

"...Maybe the fa-" Artemisa would find the rest of her tirade muffled in a moment, as Silme stepped forward to meet her, clamping his large hand over her mouth as he glared down at her with an open sneer.

"Not in the mood and don't care for whatever you have to say, Tiny. I'm sure you were a big shot where you came from, to feel like you can just barge in like that, but this ain't there." With no small level of force, Silme pushes the girl away, teeth gritted as he felt the stares being thrown his way.

Yeah. . . yeah that must look really bad huh. . . fuck it. Fuck them. Fuck me for being an impulsive idiot. Silme couldn't help but kick himself internally as he reflected on where he was, but he wasn't backing down now. It was her fault for suddenly sticking her nose where it didn't belong. Why did she even have to come bother me? What did I even do!

" . . .I'll talk to you later gearhead." Silme doesn't turn to address Midori as he grumbles, simply moving to walk away from the whole scenario if he could, his face still curled up into an angry grimace. "Prob best not to be seen hanging around me for the first day here."

"Wow, they really let that guy in?"

"Must be because of Reine?"

"Even still, how did they manage to convince the headmaster to take in a common thug like that."

"Not even born in Mistral, though he'd fit right in with the gangs like all the othe-"

"Ssssh, he's looking this way."

Silme walks into the quad area with an irritable expression, bag slung over his shoulder as glares towards the gossiping upperclassmen that he'd heard talking about him. He had expected it from kids in his class, doing his best to not let his annoyance at their muttering whispers show on his face. It had been like this the whole way up(so much so he'd taken to jogging up the whole thing in order to get away from the chatter), though luckily there was another celebrity to take the attention off him in the class. Some rich heiress or something whose biggest accomplishment as far as he was aware of was getting kidnapped as a kid. Reine had talked about it when mentioning a colleague of theirs, but he wasn't that interested in an aspiring damsel in distress.

She'll probably flunk out and go back to sucking on her silver spoon before the year is out. Silme sapres a quick glance in the rich girl's direction but doesn't really pay her much mind as he goes back to grumbling under his breath, standing tall even under the weight of more than a few suspicious stares. As long as I don't have to deal with her. The last thing I need to tell Reine is I flunked out of this school because some princess couldn't carry her weight.

Taking a moment to look behind him, Silme noted a familiar face amongst the crowd, leaping about without a care as if he was getting high off the air.

"Well, didn't expect to see you here gear-head."The young faunus just gives a nod of his head, his face and voice remaining neutral even if the distraction of a faint acquaintance helped to take his mind(and temper) off of the rumor mill forming around him. "Hope your gear manages to hold up better for the test than it does when I use it."

@LemonsYe it is. THis is like. . . my 3rd or 4th redux of him.

@TGMFinally finished
Also, if anyone else wants to give some feed back on Silme, feel free. I kinda rushed the backstory because, there is a fair bit too it and I'd rather play out the details in the RP than spell them all out.
@TGMI'll finish up the backstory tomorrow or sometime after that, but i think everything else is pretty solid so far. If you have any questions/concerns, let me know
@TGMRWBY rps be like that.

Draws everyone out of the woodwork
I'll see what I can write up in a day or two and take a shot at this

Khairi Ilunga

Shinto's Sky

"Well, it didn't take long for us to get a response." Khairi couldn't help but let out a low whistle as a blonde man appears in mid-air to send Caster's little test throw flying across the sky. Luckily, it wasn't anywhere close to their current position in the sky, tho given the nature of the weapon used, he already had a bit of a hint of the wielder's class. "So we've drawn a Lancer out into the open, and a pretty flashy one at that. How do you want to handle this?"

As he spoke, he focuses his senses to examine the figure as he landed on a nearby building, trying to use clairvoyance to get a better read on their abilities.

"I'll trust your judgement on this one, even though my gut is telling me we're opening ourselves to too much danger here. Just don't know how much of that is a solemn word of warning and how much of it is just jitters from my nerves."
Khairi Ilunga

Outskirts/Forest-> Shinto's Sky

Caster's words brought forth. . . a conflicted look to master's face. An expression part-way between distaste and resolution as he instinctively fingers the scepter at his waist. In his mind's eye, he can see the charred body of the man who took his father from him, still smelling the acrid mix of ozone and lightning-charred flesh.

In his travels abroad, he had become much more familiar with the ways magic could be used to directly harm and maim one's foes, and it brought bile to rise in his throat to imagine himself using his family's magic for such a purpose. It was not the way his father had wanted, not for him. Even his more war-like ancestors had left behind feelings of disapproval for his course when he divined for this path.

But he had already come this far. With a silent prayer to the Lord of the skies, he places a mask over his head, telling to himself a story of an ancestor who bore the winds as his weapon. As he finished the incantation, the eyes of the mask took on an eerie glow. For a moment the look of an older man, dressed in ceremonial garb, imposes itself onto him before fading away.

"I'm ready now, Caster." His voice was altered, overlapped with that of another. "And don't worry. . . I am prepared for what I may have to do, though I don't take much joy in it. But the bloody business needn't start tonight. I suggest we try and take it a bit slow. . . unless you really believe a golden opportunity will make itself known to us."

"That being said. . . being so high up on naught but a broomstick. . . still a little stomach-churning, I must admit."

When the two were up in the skies above Fuyuki, the young master would (after making another prayer to Nkuba for safe passage through his domain) focus on the mask he wore. Through low muttering chants, he'd support Caster's magical attempts to conceal their presence in the cloud, making use of the knowledge granted to him by the mask and the attribute of his family's magic to better allow them to simply become like the air above the city.
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