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9 yrs ago
Current Checking some stuff out!

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I'm Sterling, I've been writing/roleplaying for 11 years now. I like reading, writing, singing, dancing, horse back ridding and dog training.

I like highly detailed plots and games. While I don't think all posts should be three or four paragraphs long, I think it is harder to have quality with stunted posts.

I'm more into fantasy and historical than sci fi etc. but if the writers are good, that's really what matters.

Please feel free to message me. I'm fairly good at being nice.

Most Recent Posts

Cynthia was hardly able to believe her eyes or ears. Everyone was falling in line, everyone signing up for this hoax. And while she wasn’t speaking it seemed the pink haired woman knew her trepidation and general disbelief and strong dislike. She was thinking she was going to be the only one to stand up and point out the absurdity of it all when a blonde man with scarlet eyes finally spoke out. Cynthia found herself staring fixedly at him as he asked pertinent, pressing matters.

Her dark eyes drifted to Gardenia, lashes fluttering down to cover her gaze in mistrust. Feeling the threat hidden behind non-committal words and urges to join the group think Cynthia could feel her jaw tightening and her hands balling into fists. Things were not going well but she didn’t want to be the object of focus for the pink haired woman or her deranged ‘visionary’ father. Standing as the others did she slowed her pace to find herself next to the only other nay sayer. Scanning the halls as they left the theatre for ways to exit, escape.

“Aren’t you excited?” She murmured under her breath to her fellow doubter, the first words she had spoken since being abducted, her tone sarcastic but her voice a low mellow thing with an almost hoarse quality. Very pleasant on the ears . Cynthia stopped inspecting the route for exit strategies to meet his gaze for a moment. One perfect brow arched and a wry smile twisted her lips. She was clearly trying to communicate something without speaking.

Mind racing Cynthia didn’t like the sound of the doubtfully successful shard removal… She’d never let the person who did this injury to her in the first place touch her again, that violation was unforgivable, but if there was any truth… The only chance of having her natural powers was removing that cursed shard.

She breathed in deeply. Or, she could leave (supposedly) and live the life she had been living. Giftless, her talents and brains unexplored and unappreciated by the public, her sole value in her looks and body. A life she didn’t hate per say but found little dignity or joy from. And it wasn’t something she could share, openly explain to people what it was she did.

And this unlocking procedure? It sounded dangerous and all the more unappealing since the pink haired woman was pushing so hard for it. To be in some show, to be ogled at and something for people to speculate over…Well she was already that. How had such a pretty, smart, driven girl with a nice father like Cynthia ended up so…So…Wrong? No magic, no career, no friends…Barely any family.

She didn’t want to be in the light like that ever again.

Shaking her head to clear it of these dark thoughts and painful memories Cynthia smoothed the front of her iron grey blouse down. It was fitted attractively and paired with a black trouser and heel. Only everything was slightly wrinkled for laying passed out for however long that was, and her dark hair was a bit more wild than traditionally. Disliking the feel of being sullied and discombobulated Cynthia ran a hand over her hair in attempts to tame it while following the pink poof of hair that was Gardenia.

“A bit perky that one… I suppose you become that way when you knew what was happening and were able to work with magic…Even if you were closed off from the world and raised by a visionary…” An eye roll was given after this comment to the blonde skeptic walking beside her, voice carefully kept lowered so no one else would over hear. She didn’t want to piss off their captors after all.
@Silverink
Hows it going everybody ?
Sorry I have not posted in the IC yet. Found out that my mom is getting evicted. Had no clue about the money troubles. Posts for Oriana and Veronica will be up no later then Sunday.

EDIT::Have any male characters quit the RP. Cause I can nix one of my girls to even it out.


Since Rhys and Rosalyn or whatever her name is both have been out for several days or more Currently if they don't come back we're still even. Of course I'm not a GM or anything like that, just being observant.
Intro for Eitenne And a Collab with Nora
@Panic

The journey to the Royal City was pleasant, comfortable, and unpredictable. Etienne could take unpredictable. It was easy, walking the roads by day and camping at night. He wasn’t the only one on the roads, and the closer to the Royal City and its festival the more congested things became. Not one to become claustrophobic or fearful of crowds the carter took advantage of the opportunity and people watched.

This was a past time Etienne enjoyed even in his small home village. The smiles, the frowns, laughter and raised voices in anger or alarm. It was all food and entertainment for the Destined Carter. Most of all he could feel the excitement in the air as if it were a physical sensation. Well for Etienne it was. Along with the bustling crowds jostling into him as he wandered about the Royal City, eyes wide to take everything in, as to not miss a moment. It was astounding, how big, how grand it all seemed.

Etienne had never been to the Royal City proper before. He had carted nearby but his father always took the jobs leading into the Actual City. Now the blonde knew why. It was overwhelming and electrifying all at once. Caught up in the crowds the carter allowed himself to be pushed along the currents of people until something caught his attention. Caught his nose actually.

Following his nose had never led Etienne astray before now and so he wandered the streets of the Royal City with an easy smile on his face and hands tucked into his pockets. Sauntering down the lanes until reaching a large square lined with vendors stalls and little shops alike. The source of the alluring scent was a pastry stall, fresh apple fritters sizzling on the griddle seductively.

Etienne actually groaned when he spotted the sweets and could see the vendor was a local favorite, with many hovering waiting around for the hot pastries. He’d have to wait a few batches but the smell alone promised the wait was worth it.

“They smell heavenly don’t they?” asked a woman to his left, standing on her toes to see over the crowd and towards the stall. “I haven’t had one of those since I was little.” Nora wasn’t one to make idle chit chat but she had spotted the mark on the man’s wrist. He didn’t seem like a member of the royal court, but she had made that mistake before. Some of the lords and ladies back home used to dress up and sneak around town, trying to blend in.

Glancing over at the woman who spoke Etienne smiled ruefully, bringing a hand up to tug on his curls. “I haven’t either…” He admitted. “I love apples. Probably the best fruit out there. By fair. Hands down.” He grinned all the more before gesturing to the crowds around them. “Are you from the City or here for the fair?” This seemed like a fair question as even if she didn’t have the mark surely anyone who was anyone would come to see the spectacle of brightly dressed peoples, all the fairs from far and wide being sold, and the masses hunting for true love.

“Well you must have never of had fresh blackberries then,” Nora countered. “I’m from up North, from a little fishing town called Bellmare. I haven’t had a chance to do much traveling, but with the Royal Family handling the bill, I figured it was a good of a time as any to see.” Nora purposefully didn’t pull up her wrist or mention outright that she had the mark. One of the many tricks she had picked up from some of her more well to do families was how much they did not like to flaunt their status. “What about you? Are you visiting as well?” she asked with a soft smile.

Laughter crinkled the corners of Etienne’s eyes and upturned the sides of his mouth. Blackberries were perhaps in his top five favorite fruits, but today Apples were number one. Not that it mattered, but it was nice to have a friendly disagreement.

“Yes most certainly visiting. I expect to eat lots of apple fritters, stay in comfortable inns and meet interesting people. Like yourself.” With a nod Etienne held out his hand to shake with the stranger. “Etienne.” He introduced, hair flopping over his forehead as he looked over to the griddle, the batch was almost done, but given the number of onlookers he’d still have a time to wait.

Nora wracked her brain trying to see if she could place the name. It definitely was not from the City’s family. She had memorized as much of the Royal City’s court as she could. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t royalty from elsewhere. “Nora, Nora Bellwood,” she said, taking his hand. She followed his gaze towards the griddle again and was growing tired of waiting. “Wait, here, I have an idea,” she said with a smirk, as she started leading him through the crowd, excusing herself as she weaved in and out of people until they reached the front.

He was surprised when she took him by the hand but never the type to go ‘against’ the flow, Etienne followed, curiosity peaking. She was bold, coy, and Etienne had a nagging suspicion that she wanted him to like her. Traditionally his nagging suspicions were right and who was he to argue with a pretty girl?

“Sir, I hate to bother you, but Jorren and Broana Costain are in that chariot over there,” Nora said, point to a random chariot behind the large crowd, “they smelt these delicious treats and wanted to stop. They’re afraid to cause a scene though. Do you think I could take them two so they can be on their way?”

“The King and Queen, out here in the festival just waltzing around?” the baker said incredulously.

“They’re just checking on some official business. Like I said, they don’t want a scene, you’re busy enough as is,” Nora said, offering a warm smile.

“Well,” he said, trying to glance over the crowd to get a better look. “Fine, just go,” he said, quickly handing her the next two pastries, much to the annoyance of the couple beside her.

“Thank you, the Costain’s will make sure to reward you for your kindness,” Nora said, pulling Etienne to the side with her. “Here you go, it’s no blackberry, but I’m sure it’ll be close,” she said handing over one of the pasties.

The conversation between the vendor and Nora Bellwood was quick and easy, as if it had been her plan all along. She lied so fluidly. Etienne was actually impressed. Taking the fritter which was warm and gooey he smirked and took a bite.

“ Mmm. MMMM!” He shook his head, chewing aggressively and eyes almost rolling up back into his skull with pleasure. It was fantastic! At this moment Etienne couldn’t recall a time that he had eaten anything that tasted as good as this.

“No matter how pretty or clever you are Ms. Bellwood you will not get me to admit that Blackberries reign supreme over the humble and clearly best Apple.”

Etienne took another bite with another groan. “Ummph! So good.” As Nora tried her own the blonde looked around at the crowds. “It must be nice for you to be SO close to the King and Queen.” He teased, brows arching, which would have seemed serious had he not stuffed the rest of his apple fritter in his gob. Instead he seemed inquisitive and comical, which was probably his intention.

Nora gave a little chuckle at the enthusiasm Etienne seemed to have. But, she did have to admit, the pastries were so much better than the ones back home. “Oh, we go way back. Good family friends,” Nora said sarcastically with a wink. “I’m sure we’ll cross pass with them soon enough. I can’t imagine they’d bring all of us here if they weren’t planning on mingling. I mean, if everyone is as charming as you, I’m sure the prince and princess are bound to find their true love.”

“Yes, bound to…” Etienne agreed, smirking at her compliments. “And if everyone is as sly as you are no one will pay for their meals.” He didn’t seem concerned about the theft, only observant.

“Well hey now,” Nora said, feeling a bit defensive, “I mean the bill was going to get back to them one way or another. I just helped stop useless paperwork. Saving the kingdom from bureaucratic waste. I’m really a philanthropist you know. They should write songs and epics about me,” Nora said laughing, flipping her hair over her shoulder dramatically.

“Yes yes, how could I have not seen it before now?” Etienne eyed Nora thoughtfully, taking a hand to stroke his chin as if deeply considering her. “It’s really just too bad that not much rhymes with Nora, Bellwood and Apple Fritter. I’m afraid your ballad might go unsung…”

“Well I guess I will have to continue my good deeds, but only the ones that are easy to rhyme,” Nora said with a sharp nod of her head as if to make it final. “Maybe you can help, although no stealing my spotlight,” Nora warned with a playful wag of her finger. “It’s a shame Etienne is so hard to rhyme as well. Perhaps you might have something else worth singing about? What makes you so special as to be marked?” Nora prodded.

It had been a surprise for Matilda when the royal decree came out. It surprised no one else for it was well known that the Princess and Prince were marked and Destined and these things had to be handled and of course there would be a festival because there was always some sort of to do with nobles and royalty. But it had never occurred to Matilda and so when the decree came out and her father mentioned that she ought to pack if she was going to make it on time the blonde was baffled.

“Pack? You want me to go?” She mused, looking around the printing shop uncertainly.

“It is not about what I want Matilda…” her father intoned as he started to turn the handle of the crank shaft that would roll the inked stamps across the clean parchment laid out on the table below. “It is an opportunity that not many have and you do. Besides… We’re not the type of family to shy away from exploration are we?” His daughter was already absentmindedly nodding in agreement. Quite right. Quite right.

“I suppose you’re right. I just …Well I hadn’t really given it much thought.”
She admitted, tidying a stack of papers ready for pick up. Her father grinned as he turned the press, the stamps pressing down against the parchment to leave their marks and words there forever. It was very like his daughter to pay little attention to the world in front of her, too busy looking at the past in her histories or at the matters of faith or the poetries of long forgotten wits. Her own life held little interest to Matilda.

“Well you’re thinking of it now. So you are going.” He commanded, although this was not an order as much a statement of fact. She had already agreed after all.

“I suppose I am. Well…I’ll go pack then…” Matilda finished with neatening the tables of books and pamphlets and flyers before heading upstairs where she and her father lived. Above the printing shop. As she started to prepare a bag she wondered over the festival, her wide blue eyes flicking to her exposed wrist as she folded a blouse and stowed it in her bag. Her Mark was sending her on an adventure, more than anything she had experienced before in her life. Suddenly Matilda smiled feeling gleeful. This would be a fantastic journey and when she returned home she would finally have a tale of her own to tell!

Never did she think she’d come home with her destined in tow.

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Considering the bustle of the Royal City Matilda should have been alarmed or even nervous, she’d never seen so many people in one place before. And no one in her town was as loud or as pushy, or even as smelly as this lot but then… That was the point of an adventure! She had been fortunate, she found out, that her father had an associate in the city, letting her stay in their home because all the inns were filled up.

While it would have been quite something to have to find lodgings and meager protection, perhaps even sleep in the streets, Matilda was glad she didn’t have to find out if she had what it took. Instead she wandered the streets thoroughly getting lost and not noticing as much. She had a bit in the way of money to spend on treats and excitements as her father had put it, the rest of her budget safely tucked away in the shop of his associate as well as her belongings.

With wide blue eyes and blonde hair braided and coiled but ultimately a bit untidy she stood out. People jostled her and she apologized as they continued on their way without so much as a backward glance, the hem of her plain brown skirts becoming dirty with the city grime whereas in her town it would only have been dust from the road. Clearly a country bumpkin, Matilda noticed none of this as she was too engrossed in the architecture, never seeing building so tall, or in the vendors, clearly foreign and different, or in the marvelous wares they sold.

Soon she found herself in a large square filled with the commotion of trade. Matilda’s mind raced as she watched how quickly people bargained and bartered, finally handing over sums and hurrying off with their purchases. Her thoughts were interrupted by the grumbling of her stomach. She was hungry! This was a surprise, since she had eaten a hearty breakfast… A glance at the sky proved how much time she had lost track of, it was most certainly not early morning now.

Meandering around the outer circle of sellers in the Square Matilda was debating on what she should try. There was an interesting cart with various types of meat pies, some having things from the Ocean which she had never had before, but also a dark man who was selling something skewered through a stick and sizzling on his grill that smelled very attractive. Acting on impulse Matilda ended up buying both a pie and a skewer.

Looking around for a place to sit she spied the steps of a building that only had one occupant. Everywhere seemed so full that the blonde didn’t stop to consider why the man hunched there was being avoided. @Snagglepuss89

Coming closer she smiled vaguely and nodded to the spare steps. “Do you think it would be alright with you if I sat down here too?” She asked politely, one hand full of pie and the other of the meat on a stick. Before the man could answer she cheerfully gestured to the pie. “Have you ever had an…What did he call it? Eel? Yes. This pie contains eel meat. I’ve never had such a thing before. I hope it is good.” Realizing that it might be rude to flaunt her meal in front of the man Matilda blushed but recovered by finding a solution. “You could try some of it with me if you want Sir.” She smiled brightly at such a good idea. The fact that he was dressed in rags and dirt covered his hands and face, or that he was missing one eye seemed either to not matter to Matilda at all, or she was completely unaware of such things. It was hard at times to tell with the blonde.
My internet is limited these days, but I'm more or less here.


Yeah I'm getting the feeling this RP might not be getting off the ground, which is disappointing.
Yep.
Her head ached, and the first thing Cynthia was really aware of was the heaviness of her limbs. An annoying and sharp sound was making her head ache all the more and she wished she could just make it stop. She needed quiet. Slowly the brunette could feel her eye lids peeling apart, but the sight before her was too harsh, too bright. Quickly she closed her eyes again and tried to remember what was happening.

She had been leaving a ‘clients’ house, a man had approached her on the street and Cynthia had turned away, not wanting to interact with another human. Something had pinched her neck and… And then what? She couldn’t recall, which indicated something bad had happened. People didn’t just faint for no reason. Had one of her clients decided they wanted her all to themselves? That seemed unlikely… Well…Not entirely but it seemed unlikely they’d drug her and drag her off to…

Where was she? Trying to open her eyes again she still found the sight garish and unsettling, but looking around Cynthia at least knew she was not in any of her client’s homes. It was too bright here, and the music blaring too loud. A woman with pink hair pounced before Cynthia and the thought ‘she is most definitely not my client’ came to her before a speech was given. All about how important they could be, how their trials and tribulations had been inflicted by this ‘visionary’. And while Cynthia’s arms and legs were not functioning as they normally would (she attributed this to the drugging) she had the ability to frown and look around. She was sitting in a plush chair, others in similar states of confusion and recovery strewn about. The brunette ignored the water hovering before her, eyeing the stone levitating. While it was something she had never seen before the whore could not forget the under lying message.

She had been abducted, drugged, and if the pink haired woman was right, this man…her ‘father’ was also the reason why Cynthia had never gotten her powers like the rest of her peers. Why she had needed to master the craft of sly smiles and fluttering lashes, of tight fitting clothes and seductive looks. Why she had never been taken seriously in her life, not for a single moment, why her brain and her work never mattered and why it was easier and more profitable for Cynthia to make money ‘playing nice’ than using her education.

Anger and hatred boiled under Cynthia’s skin, her dark eyes narrowing in suspicion and dislike. The pink haired ridiculous woman said they could leave, but Cynthia found that hard to believe. If they were ‘free’ then they wouldn’t have been taken so unwillingly in the first place. This woman and her father had stolen Cynthia’s childhood and her future all at once.

It was with surprise that she heard the blonde man agree to playing along. Did he not understand what was happening? He was a hostage, a victim, not a friend, not a guest. Guests were not drugged before entering someone’s home. But Cynthia could see the glint of hope in his face. His life had been less than… Less than everyone else’s. Cynthia knew that look because she had it too. Less attention, less appreciation, less consideration, less status, less money…Less. But how could he just take this pink bitch’s word and move on? How was he not feeling hate and disgust and even fear?

Cynthia’s mind whirled to come up with an answer. He could be simply slow minded… Overly trusting… Perhaps simple? He could be playing nice until the opportunity to escape presented itself. That would make sense… Even though Cynthia was angry she could not bely the floating rocks before them. The pink woman…What had she said her stupid name was again? A flower? Daisy? …Gardenia. That was it.

Anyway, Gardenia could easily crush them should she wish. Yes. The man must be pretending to agree and finding it all exciting and not deplorable so that he could find a way out without becoming minced meat.

Or he was dull minded. But Cynthia was not and so she held back the retorts she wanted to make. She wanted to point out that if they were friends and guests then they should have been treated that way, not kidnapped and drugged and who knew what else was done to them. She wanted to scream at the pink haired harpy that if she was telling the truth then Gardenia and her father had condemned five innocent unknowing children to a lifetime of disappointment and ridicule. Had taken Cynthia’s bright future and set her instead on the path that was long, twisted and dark. That she had turned to means that anyone would sneer at, and anyone would feel their self-worth sinking by the day. What had these other victims succumb to in their lives? No one staring up at Gardenia looked proud, overly cared for, rich… None looked like their lives had been easy and pleasant as they should have been.

But Cynthia bit her tongue. She needed escape and she’d wait for it. She’d bide her time. She’d lived through worse, this was just another hurtle in her already difficult life.
Okay, made some shitty banners so here they are; gonna work on my intro today so be on the lookout!













Awesome!
Hmm hmmm
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