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▅▅▅▅austin | ♏︎ | he/him | 27 | vegan

Hi, I’m Salsa Verde, arguably the best salsa and formally known as the writer, Syn. I’m a Wildlife Biologist traveling the country looking to work with the coolest: herps, mammals, birds, and invertebrates I can get my hands on. I also like plants, trees, and fungi specifically. I’ve been writing for about 13 years now and recently decided to get back into it. I enjoy anything from casual to high roleplay, 1x1, and arena. My main genres tend to be anime, SOL, and superhero but I’m really down to participate in anything. And yeah I like all that weeb shit.


Most Recent Posts

Wind swept through the great plains with a force seeking to shake the landscape of the lush green grass in the foreground. Tall grass flickered and rustled in every which direction, almost dancing in the presence of the wind. To Bizi Gan it looked more like cowering which left him unamused. His gaze was fixated on the unmoving and stoic presence of the dense trees that created a thicket of understory canopy for him to relax in. While their leaves shuttered from the wind only a few fell, perhaps their only purpose. Beyond the howling was the incessant noise of scratching, the sound of stubby fingers running through coarse, matted fur. It was enough to know that he had gone a few days without bathing from the sheer scrunching. As noble and intelligent of a race they were, escaping the primal ceremonies of the Mokeu ancestors was harder than anticipated.

He spent an unsanctimonious amount of time properly grooming himself and checking for any hitchhikers that accompanied him like a ferry. A strand of barley or some kind of wheat stuck out of his mouth, slowly moving back and forth through his molars. It only took a few months, but the old coot had finally decided to begin his descent from his perch above it all. He wasn’t confident in his assumption, but there could be more information on Zhao-Fu. Wishful thinking it may have been, yet it was enough for him to begin his journey. Assuring he had everything he needed he took in the surrounding once more before turning his back on his home for the last time. This time the grass didn’t look like a dance ensemble, instead in some sense, they were waving him farewell.

Days turned into nights, terrain turned from grass to mud to stone and back again. Some days were sweltering hot only to be disrupted by swelling of clouds followed by a downpour that felt like salvation. Nights brought on a brisk cold that was no match for his fur. Bizi-Gan experienced it all with unwavering patience. And while the scenery changed around him, he remained unnerved with the same unyielding expression. It was rather obvious when he was entering civilization once more, open fields were replaced with decadent buildings of varying sizes. Livestock was huddled into little farms connected to bridges and paved roads. The shrill sound of children’s happiness and sadness echoed through bustling streets of commerce. Had the opinion of Mokeu people changed since he locked himself away?

Whatever the case he ate when he wanted, rested when he needed and continued on. With the entrance of humanity he was able to learn of gossip and news loose on the lips of anyone who would have it. The most poignant information that burned through the towns was the talks of the emperor’s death. The festivities of Wan Yue cut short in the grand city of Bianewi by imposters adorned in regalia of the people. Bizi-Gan traced the grooves on his jade bracers when they mentioned the Ruby Palace. The contrast of the two minerals felt intentional, with his being a bit more auspicious. He rose from his seat and decided to venture to the Imperial Square. More questions than answers it seemed to pose.

It wasn’t more than a few days before Bizi-Gan arrived. The city was clearly still in a period of mourning. The people had fallen on harsh times and even worse living conditions. Finding suitable work or information here would be harder than he imagined. Nevertheless, he ventured into the once source that flowed with information in the shape of a glass, a tavern.

Interacting with: Self
Opportunity: Eskand-aligned Players – Siege Chamonix.

Event: Ebbs & Flows Location: Outskirts of Chamonix

Ulfhild was slightly suffering from imposters syndrome, it seemed like she was right for this war when she nearly delivered the Queen of Parrench a just duel and then managed to strike down a horse back warrior later in the field. Yet, battle after battle from that point she would be thwarted and nearly brought to the precipice of death. Had she gotten too overconfident or were the gods simply mocking her? Whatever it was she would still mentally persevere knowing the war was still in its infancy and the chance to snatch glory and solidify her place in the Æresvaktr.

Four days had passed since Sweyn had saved her by means of divine intervention, that’s not to say the enemy faction did not have one of their own. The king was incredibly powerful, one blessed with the ability to manipulate time. Undoing the vicious dismemberment of the savage warrior that sent Olaf to the table with their peers. The ace up their sleeve revealed, something invaluable to the Black King, if the information would find its way to him in time. As for Ulfhild, she had spent her days licking her wounds and getting her armaments in order for the siege to come.

She readied the raiding parties she was now at the helm of and made her way to the hilltop strongpoint they had sent for themselves. Many of them rode on horseback while others took the field with shields, keeping their stapled shield wall approach if needed to turn on the defensive of a provoked army. Others laid in wait in any of the cover behind them, a bit away back. Ulfhild herself had a plan to slip in once the chaos and battle erupted. For now she would ready their forces to siege the city and avoid finding herself between two Parrench forces.

Roderick wasn’t slow to notice the shift in the qun’s bow position. His eyes failed from her eyes for what was less than a second’s second. He was making progress and that was all that concerned him in terms of his own safety. He wasn’t daft enough to meet a Qunari in open combat after going on a speed date with the maker just before. An annoying smile transformed into a grin, blond curls that sank like fresh sap, fell over his face. He eyed her through the gaps in the curtains that hung over his face, before sweeping them up and laughing, pushing out his chest and looking at the sky. “A mockingbird? I prefer the song of a thrush, wouldn’t you? But if that makes me a passerine what does that make you my dear?” his porcelain white teeth and flair for the flamboyant made him seem more fox of cunning than bird of song.

His eyebrows perked up at the showmanship of her dexterity, she was clearly a skilled marksman, if she weren’t perhaps the arrow would have grazed the mage and sunk into him. “Nimble fingers, I’ll have to remember that” she seemed to be true in her words, which sent him scurrying towards her side with chainmail clinking with each upheaval. “That makes two of at least, I’m sure they would regale you if you were to silence me. The templars of now are just obsessed with politics and positions.”

Roderick followed her to the slowly petrifying body as she retrieved her bow. The squelching of flesh and blood wasn’t anything new to him, but still occupied the realm of unpleasant. “Coincidence or not, we had been hunting this apostate for many nights. He took down my entire party in the woods just outside of Ferelden. I was one of the few that survived, perhaps by will of the divine I do not know. I lay at the neck of a stream collecting water when I return to find my camp decimated and the sickly sweet scent of iron wafting through the air, mixed with smoke and flame” Roderick's gaze traveled past the mage despite his line of sight being planted on the mage. His demeanor became hollow and lost all perspicacity, reverting into what could be attributed to a hardened templar or a recount of Orlesian tragedy. “I tracked him down to Kirkwall and here I am. Shame I didn’t end it on my own terms.”

The jovial expression returned to his face, his body resurging with energy, “Well! He still met his justice and even brought me to you. Now I’m not too familiar with your language, but I think this will suffice” he cleared his throat, remembering a phrase taught to him by another Qun inside a bar, piss drunk. Taarsidath-an halsaam, I think that means thank you” he said bowing before her. “So, what brought you here?” eager to know why their paths might have crossed.

Ymiico was too busy flicking her ribbon around like a captivated cat. While she pawed at it she would wince, having been surgically dispatched by the sanguinaire, her body was still recovering. Still, the three moons in the sky had her healing rather quickly, with a surge of power flowing through her. She met at the fountain with the rest of her peers. Some on her team the others not so much. When was it acceptable to break the law? It was different here but for Ymiico it was anytime change was needed. Shinobi existed to enforce rules within themselves but commit crimes for a peaceful society, it was a difficult balance. Ayla’s answer almost put her to sleep, luckily the others had simple responses. It was finally her turn to speak. She cleared her throat a bit. Using gesticulations to carry what her broken speech could not. “When the law do not work, yes” bowing slightly before returning to her ribbon.

High Stakes - Velles 5th

Location: Distillery in Crafters’ Quarters - Ersand’Enise
Day of the week: Taldes
Time: 4:30 HE

“uuuuuuuuu ahhh” a boastful yawn leaving her mouth with a few tears welling up in her eyes. The sun had set, making her feel lethargic from the sapping of energy. Yet the night was more familiar to her than the sun despite the importance of the sun in her nations culture. The night was her friend, what cloaked her from danger, and most importantly what empowered her. The moon smiled down on her, emboldened her and raised her capabilities tenfold based on the number of moons present. It also meant she could reach full effectiveness as a Nikanese assassin. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and patted down her newly equipped black garb that made no ruffle or sound in the dark akin to the feathers on owls that made their flight silent.

Nothing but her head was exposed, giving off a strangely off putting floating head display from a distance away. The talks of the Sanguinaire were interesting, but not much stock was put into it. She knew better than to discount it as folk tales, but she was a simple farm girl that only had a narrow field of experience.

During the briefing, Ymiico had also been quite silence since the inception of the conversation, she was much to enthralled by the vignette of the beast being described and the environment around her. It was unlike her home back in Nikan, but it wasn't without its charm. Ymiico didn't have quite a rhyme or reason for being on this mission, it just seemed the most fun out of them all. She broke her silence weighing in on the heavy chat. "My blood tasty, good?" she said with an awkward accent, hoping to convey that she understood she would be a big treat for the sanguinaire. Her question earned her a laugh from her teammate.

Her dagger like ears twitched and focused on the language spoken by Ilyanovich. One she wasn’t familiar with so whatever she was saying was still kept in private. She bent down at the end of the blood trail within the Proving Grounds, stroking her finger through the dirt, rubbing the crimson fluid between her fingers. She gave it a whiff and looked around trying to recreate the scene. Sloppy was the only way she could describe it, which meant one of two things. They had hubris and knew they couldn’t be stopped, or they were fresh behind the ears.

Looking up to the sky, there was only one moon who had come out to play today. Ymiico slightly sighed, the gods hadn’t been in her favor today. Her eyes traced Ilyanovich covering the exit, while her ears faced towards Evander. ”I go high yes?” her fingers pointing up, she waited little in the way for approval before she flipped forward towards the wall and began climbing.
In OBLIVION 5 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Also I’d like to extend an invitation to the both of you if you were still interested as now is the time before the plot begins.
In OBLIVION 5 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

No I’ve just been extremely extremely busy this week. Which is really abnormal. I’ll be back to business after Monday.

Interacting with: Dao Ma | Sewyn @Dao Ma@Force and Fury
Opportunity: Eskand-aligned Players – Head for Chamonix.

Event: Fields of Fire Location: Between Relouse and Chamonix | Wandering Mountain

There was nothing but searing pain running down the collective body which her mind still managed to inhabit. The taste of dirt and iron mixed in her mouth before abruptly expelling itself out of her mouth and onto her soiled clothes. There was nothing for her but the constant throbbing and drumming of pain coursing through her temple. With each stroke of pain, the broken memory of the last few hits making contact from the airborne heretic, ran through her memory. She didn’t have much time to wallow in defeat with the sound of murmurs and the devastating flapping of wings in the background.

Luckily for her, Ulfhild’s bindings were broken and her arms once again free. Soothing magic crept into the fractures and breaks that riddled her body. Almost as if turning back time or forwarding it much into the future, her body began to heal. She could breathe peacefully without fear of her ribs piercing her lungs. Once haggard she was born anew. The only remnants of the battle she had was blood stained on her chin and the dirt on her face. Sewyn had come to her aid, which was rather disappointing as she was the one who was tasked with saving him. He wasn’t in the top three for nothing. Ulfhild could do nothing more than accept her duty and continue on with Sewyn and the rest of the Eskandr forces.

Before she could race back to her allied lines, her perpetrator called to her. It was a common occurrence with the Parrench to spare the Eskandr people and then ask for their help in whatever battle they could not handle on their own. And while the lucrative thought of defeating a dragon and saving people did weigh on her, she knew she could not give up her people. Plus, if the majority of the Parrench forces were to fall now, it would be a victory for Eskand. “Enjoy your singular victory” she laughed at his mention of the result of battle, “Keep your offer, I look forward to the next time we meet.” With that she ran to the lines of her people.

Once she made it to allied lines the thoughts of Hildr began to flood her mind. She had been so consumed by her unwavering ability to not die and attack Parrench when she could, that she forgot her sister. She had more than likely stayed, whether to help or to cement her allegiance with the other side was unknown. It would be something she would have to wrestle with later and perhaps consult Kol and Vali in the matter. For now she owed Sewyn her life and freedom, for now the destination was set for Chamonix.
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