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4 mos ago
Current It turns out that you can, if you message your friendly neighborhood moderator.
3 yrs ago
Working, essentially, second shift blows. I hate getting home after midnight. xD
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3 yrs ago
Any day now, I'll have my first kid. Mini Rilla. #Awesome
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And with that. The lazy one appears.

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How I got into role-playing.

It started on Myyearbook, a site now called MeetMe. MyB was basically a social networking site like Myspace and Facebook. It had forums, and whatnot. I bounced around from some of them starting in Things(insert jokes here) before branching off to music and politics.

As j searched for more to do, I stumbled across the 'Everything Else' section of the forum, for things that didn't have a proper home. In there I came across a generic RP place, just a clearing in a forest and started reading. Man it was terrible in there. But something about it spoke to me. So after a couple weeks, I gathered my courage and hopped in. It wasn't like here where you need to apply. You come and go.

My first character was Rilla, a ventriloquist with a living dummy. Immediately I connected with someone, who was using an alternate character I think, and we hit it off. That's a friendship that still lasts to this day.

As I spent more and more time there my activity in other forums decreased until it was basically none existent. Roleplaying had hooked me. People liked me but my writing was shit. It was all asteriks and one liners, until one of my friends introduced us to paragraph posting and what all.

Much like here, there I was a fighter, but unlike most of them, I always focused on the story and tried to do as much of it IC as possible.
He had been gone a little more than a fortnight, when thoughts drenched in sorrow crept into his mind. He hadn't wanted to leave, but Brand - his General - insisted that he, like many of the others, follow a path only forged by leaving the shelter of his proverbial wings. The Elf had no idea where to go, for he had considered himself the sword and shield of Brand, his eternal protector, his solider.

Still, at his behest, Adinraen Barriurden packed a small rucksack of survival essentials, as well as twin Boneswords, and a similarly crafted Bow, and set off. He headed in an easterly direction, wondering what he would find and why Brand felt it so important that he followed the flock, so to speak. So when the feeling settled in, he almost turned on his heel and raced back, something had to be wrong, right? Yet, the misjudged Elf steeled himself and carried onwards, until the next night when he set up camp on the edge of a clearing, so he could see any potential threats coming from the forward and sides. With the forest to his back, he felt strangely safe.

The night wasn't long born when the news came to him, by chance or by fate, when a travelling party stumbled upon his fire. Like many others, they were taken aback by his appearance, but steady words calmed them down. They brought word from back home with them, perhaps the most jarring of which was that a known ranger from the forest had been killed. They stumbled remembering the name, but Adinraen knew it in his heart. He was quiet the rest of the evening.

For months after, he stalked the forest around his childhood home, not able to bring himself to enter the place where Brand would no longer offer solace or training. He blamed himself, he should have stayed and fought by Brands side, protected him from the unsavory circumstances of his death. What could was a solider, a sword and shield, if it were not there when needed?

The darkness of the forest provided a sinister comfort, embracing thoughts of exacting revenge until they bloomed. Today was the day, heads would become charms of a necklace in honor of his Master. But was that Master the darkness or Brand?

Before he took to setting off, he passed by Brand's house one more time, but something was notably different. The ground around the entrance was disturbed. Had they come back after all this time to rummage through Brands belongings?

Adinraen drew both swords and almost soared through the air as he leapt from a branch. He landed with a little thud, and brushed the rune that would allow entry. His breath almost caught, he was entering for the first time in months. The Sword and Shield had returned home to roost.

With nerves of iron, he stepped through the entrance, his left hand sword immediately coming to a stop right before piercing through the back of Andreas neck. Trained eyes flittered around, the numbers inside were numerous.

What had stopped him? Recognition. Though they were older, different, he knew the faces he saw.

Family.

Is he dead too, Adinraen asked, his voice descending quickly into contempt. He referred to Diē, the one who left long ago to die. As he did so, he lowered his sword and stepped to his left and forward, eying those who had returned. This had to have been due to one thing, the death of Brand.
Name: Adinraen Barriurden
Race: Elf, darker than usual complexion.
Faction/Unit: Brand's Brood
Location: Bosfryd
Synopsis of Role: A full blooded elf, with an affinity for combat and nature; adopted by brand as a youngling that was was exiled for his appearance.

Breaking his hiatus and my return to Advanced. Hey Seussy. Hey Khandy
Actually, probably not. I've been thinking about it and I can't get the motivation to continue at the moment. This on the heels of the site crash and going through a break up IRL. Perhaps when I get adjusted to my new situation and get rid of this god damn neck pain I can attempt this again with better results.

btw Melonwastheoodsonfavoritejk
So, if you're all still interested, I'll have my post up tomorrow. If not. That's perfectly fine, I accept the blame wholeheartedly.
For the Lobby, no.
Yeah, the lobby is always slower. I'll send some stuff out tomorrow and try and get a post up. Been going through some changes at home, so that's occupied a lot of my time.
This would be the perfect time for a play. The return of the Old to take over Spam from the nameless.
The Charismatic Rebel Leader has touched down, the President of Spam, and the king. What it is folk, what's yp
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