Sync

Bloodrose Irregulars - After The Fall (Dark Fantasy Adventure) -=Remake=-

@HowlsOfWinter
I thought your post was amazing btw. Please, take it easy and good luck with everything!

Danganronpa Alternate (Reboot, in need of new players)

Edit: Deleting the sheet

Danganronpa Alternate (Reboot, in need of new players)

I too would like to reserve a spot. I'm still working on the details of my character, so it should be done relatively soon!

Bloodrose Irregulars - After The Fall (Dark Fantasy Adventure) -=Remake=-

@Athol Yeah, bro. Feel free to do whatever is needed to progress the story onwards

Bloodrose Irregulars - After The Fall (Dark Fantasy Adventure) -=Remake=-

Sorry, sorry. I had a lot on my plate this week. However I got the post I wanted up. I hope its satisfactory

Bloodrose Irregulars - After The Fall (Dark Fantasy Adventure) -=Remake=-

Towering Giant, Repose Until Nightfall...

@Noodles@Lyla@13org@Athol@Arthanus

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Her response was quaint, straight to the point. This man giant couldn't help but nod, his mind began to ravel on the thought that this team was certainly an oddity. No matter, the circumstances had been placed in a way that would benefit him. And yet it all felt so surreal, so empty and lacking any substance. Why? Had the giant forgotten what joy brought when in heat of battle? Had that been robbed out of him as well in what transpired so many years ago? The thought loomed at the corners of his consciousness. Bringing the giant once more into full blown silence. It was sad, to be fair. He did not trust anyone, he couldn't trust even this youth who seemed to have lived by and for the sword. He could not trust the guild-mates, the guild-master of any of the people he was around. Yet a swelling sense of curiosity built up from the annals of his thoughts. Something he wasn't foreign to, but he couldn't depict. Looking into those eyes, the shimmering flame with danced at its reflection. This girl was... in her own form, innocent to what the world had in store. Though she understood pain, the pain was secluded in fractals of her personal life, fractals which later took form an built her future. Yet, so insanely privy, so intensely small. How many heads had this giant claimed? How many lives had he taken, as he took one final swing of his mead.

Silence beget the room, and nothing more spoke out of this man.

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Nightfall

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Time had finally run out, and the giant stood with arms crossed listening to what had transpired. A grunt followed at Jing's request. What utter nonsense, as if an able bodied warrior would stay still when there are obvious threats claiming a city he stayed in. This was not a means of battle for the sake of guild-presence, this was but survival at its finest. The merriment and peace had been placed to a halt and so many question began to rise. Why? A full on scale attack of this caliber to a city is beyond insane. This is not chaos for the sake of chaos, no of course it's not. Deliberately attacking human settlements, especially of great statures like this one would require more than your average sword and shields, it would require strategy and cunning. So why would they do this? For what purpose? A myriad of question arose at Hafrbjǫrn's behest. But it mattered little now. He was with three others. The new-blood Ehri, none other than the daughter of the guild-master herself, Nanami and the one who has been teaching Archery to the winner of the spoils of the last quest, Yui. "Take point, huh?" He spoke to himself absent-mindedly. This would not be much trouble, if he was the one to follow, but would the guild-mates deliberately follow his command? Hafrbjǫrn didn't have much hope, after all, he was merely a stranger among strangers. Nanami and Yui knew each other, that was a fact. Ehri was a new-blood, meaning that she would just follow regardless of circumstance due to willingness of contract and station. However, Hafrbjǫrn has traveled before with these people and have found himself beyond distant from them all. Exchanging glances with each, it was evident. They did not have the slightest sense of trust towards him.

Of course, trust is something that is gained. But they couldn't simply follow a man, whom they have witnessed show little, to no remorse when it comes to the seams of battle. And much less to someone who has not found it in any interest to speak or made bonds with them. And so, he pulls out his mighty axe, held upon in one hand, and rests it atop his shoulder. Like a lumberjack that he is, imposingly standing before his... comrades, he spoke with resolve. "I hope I have not given you a sense to be alarmed. I was merely minding of my own devices, before. But tonight we find ourselves in the midst of combat once more. And alas, against creatures that have cognitive awareness." He continued forward, Ehri stood brightly, he spirit certainty displayed itself among that trio, an odd combination, Hafrbjǫrn had thought this before, but one of benefit indeed. "I have aught thought of a time where I'd be responsible of human lives once again, not in a form where I'd be given currency, not as a service. But as comrades of the same home. And the thought frightens me, it clutches me and heralds dread onto the center of my chest. But, tonight I have been given the task and my honor would not stand intact if I were to break such by merely expediting your lives onto death. No that is not what I want, nor the indulgence I crave." He turned to his team, speaking one last time before they part. "I humbly speak from the experience of a man who's steel had stained far too many man who deserved it, and far too many man that didn't. Tonight, by these axe, I will brighten our path towards victory. So I ask, with humbleness and truth, lend my your strengths and follow me into combat. And allow me to live through the incoming struggle, as I will allow the same for you."

..."Onwards."

Bloodrose Irregulars - After The Fall (Dark Fantasy Adventure) -=Remake=-

Happy Birthday, Lyla ! Have a good one.

Bloodrose Irregulars - After The Fall (Dark Fantasy Adventure) -=Remake=-

I'm still alive! I've been busy with thing and stuff regarding my life. Nothing too serious, mind you it's just been taking a lot of my time and I get home tired af. I'll be posting soon, tho! hopefully tomorrow.

Bloodrose Irregulars - After The Fall (Dark Fantasy Adventure) -=Remake=-

Towering Giant, Repose Until Nightfall...

@Noodles

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And much like a spell, the thought metastasized into real form, the youth had approached the Tavern towards where the giant sat and even directed her greetings towards him. Upon closer inspection, the lass was indeed young, yet her hands and arms were battle-ridden in scars and bruises. Her finger, absent from delicacy and were like those of farmers yet the intricacies of the wound would show they were not gifted through the tending of the fields. Hafrbjǫrn had those due to wood working, field care and the smith. Her aura did not speak of that, the gentleness of her speak demonstrated air of nobility and her poise as she tread through the Tavern was refined and tempered, almost like a calculated machine or the hammer after clanging against ebony. She did not share the same origins as this mountain of a man by mere extension of sight, instead, these were the scars of a woman honing the blade. Did her gauntlet lack any sort of padding? Did the hilt lack any sort of leather? Did the pommel lack any sort of stability? The possibilities ran across his thoughts smudging his features into a lifted brow. His mead still dancing on the innards of his jug, while the sweat of condensation drip through its glass and stained the table underneath. Hafrbjǫrn took another swing before realizing that the bar's noise began to lessen, perhaps this is due to his mind trailing along so far into thought. It mattered not, thought the giant. Perhaps this could be seen as an opportunity, if so, he would take it. "Only bread, young knight?"

The thunder of his tone reverberated into words directed at the youth known as Selova. Her dress spoke too intricately of a sort of lifestyle which the giant thought of, yet her eating habits seemed mild and humble. Something he did not seem to understand in correlation. Perhaps her aura was that of nobility, but discipline of a warrior. "Perhaps a bit of meat would garner some strength for the journey ahead. I do not wish to impose, but if there is anything more dangerous than a man with a sword, is one with a hole in their stomach." He spoke absent-minded like. Almost as if he was regurgitating something he spoke many times, before, though the jade of his iris locked onto her's, she did not follow suit as of yet and focused entirely on her food. "I am called Hafrbjǫrn, young knight. I have also been offered the position as a guild mate, though I have yet to come to terms if I would join in or not."

Bloodrose Irregulars - After The Fall (Dark Fantasy Adventure) -=Remake=-

Towering Giant, Repose Until Nightfall...

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Even among the men and women of the guild, the tavern felt lonesome. The sounds of distant chatter fulled the emptiness, like how the wind blows through the cracks on a hollow valley, noise as such worked merely to rid itself of total silence. The giant had reluctantly allowed the Serim to slip through his fingers, although with only a warning at his behest. Nothing to show for it, but mead in his hand and a few bruises from treadling through a desert wasteland. He took a final glance at the hand which had been damaged, he felt all joints were working properly, the bones did not ache at the grip his hand formed whilst holding an imaginary axe in his grip. Yes, this would do... Though this silent mountain of a man, bringing once again the savoring taste of liquor to his lips. Naught to do but to wait, this is what this thought burning at him, but much to think about. Much to ponder and reach. Hafrbjǫrn had fallen back to his silence after last nights exchange, much had happened and all remained fresh in thought. To band together with strangers was one aspect, something temporary bound by contract, if any died at the miles of travel then the giant could rest surely that all he would feel would be an emptiness at his pockets. Yet this rule changed extensively when in groups, guilds were a mass of men and woman banding together under a similar banner to venture to unknowns. This thought did not please the giant, it only rose warnings of future struggles. if on the ruins he would've spoken abruptly and with earnest, then perhaps they would've saved themselves the need to fight against unnecessary of great potency, to be honest, they survived by the inch of their hairs.

Stroking his beard which stretched far enough that it would hide neck, the giant began to entertain the thought of joining the Irregulars. The thought was truly just one halved with skepticism. The Witch Doctor truly was the only one whom had any decency as to approach him, all shared equaled amount of animosity and fear towards his size. It not something he is proud of, it is merely how he was born. It was clear in their baited breath and distinctive seam of the eyes. They were intimidated to some degree, and not due mere size, but to the perceived notion that he was violent. And to be fair, he supposed it was fair to think that way. But nevertheless, it was not in his intentions to interact with something of passing nature. What could be an ally today, could certainly be a target tomorrow. Such was the certainty of being a sword-for-hire. It paid well enough, but faces were but paintings drawn upon stone, they would wither and cleans itself with passing. It was not eternal if another hand decided to meddle with it. And people of the sword were of similar nature, of similar hues. Their colors oh so different, but they were still colors. And predictable, when the nature of survival, jealousy, anger and or sadness is involved. People lose their sense of self, replace it with a sense of power, and reason is tossed out the window. Passion is indeed, a powerful weapon. Hafrbjǫrn knew this almost spiritually, after the loss of his son, he could almost sense the moment when he shifts between a smith and a warrior.

And so now, presented with a choice, Hafrbjǫrn only has a thought and some time. He began to gather the names he could remember and the impressions he had gathered. Firstly, there were more females than males on this guild, this speak highly of the Guild Master, but not in the means which he would gratify, in fact he questioned it rather dismissively at first. Why? the giant, thought but the answer always lead to the same conclusion. And so he decided to end it, before his would gather a sense of understanding that was merely an extension of disgust and extended embarrassment. He began to ponder, more and more, until his mind rose into a blank spot and as if his eyes were finding the answers in the Tavern, his eyes trailed towards the new blood. Three females, all of which held particular uniqueness to each. To be frank, their youth was something the giant noted immediately. Their bodies, although honed upon the veils of training and combat like finely tempered steel under a seething flame, youth's faculties of the mien remained strong and steady. Their eyes and flesh void from the wrinkles of age, softness of lip and flush of cheek with delivered the sympathy of youth's embrace. The softness of the brow which marked innocence to a degree of but a glistening shred of limited experience. There was another in the guild who shared the same, the Song Rogue, daughter of the head. She bared resemblance to stories of all, another victor of the spoils. Perhaps he could confront her, for the mere sense of conversation. As someone who was born on this atmosphere... Hafrbjǫrn was curious on her perspective on the world.

Next, the silver haired knight. Her eyes were a brilliant as her locks. Dancing around with soft motion at the behest of the air. Her name was Alleria, if the giant hear right. Her stature was large, woman of the size were hard to see in most cases. She stood above the rest of the girls by mere extension of stature. Her eyes did not speak of much, as though honed in an art of battle even this humble giant was foreign to. Perhaps instinct dictate that she would be no mere liability in the front line, if he joins as well, then this would surely be one of the people who would stand beside him in the front.

The other was blonde of gray iris's. Strange in a way, but it resembled a uniqueness in her self. Selova was her name, and she radiated a meek kindness in her stare. Hafrbjǫrn could not pinpoint the reasoning behind it, but there in her neutral state he could tell something about her was benevolent. Or perhaps this is merely an extension of witnessing the manner of which she uses her hair. It was different, it adorned her cheeks and flush in the lighting of the tavern's candles which gave her an aura of soothing calmness. Nevertheless, he moved the final and most interesting of the bunch.

This one was called Ehri. Although all held a particularity to them, he found this one to be of course one of the most peculiar, because she held with her two beast whom if found in the wild, the giant would've cleaved them in half already. A wolf and hawk that did not give themselves to their primal urges, instead, they toyed with the other as if they were siblings to a motherly figure. Of course, this huntress was master and commander, someone potent enough to win their respect and admiration. the Alpha in their odd creed. Indeed, she swelled of potency, but similarly of youth. And youth was dangerous, youth entailed many things, and not much good when inexperience is involved. Nevertheless, the giant finished his mead. And merely continued to be joined by lonesome and silence. He will not do what must be done, not until he has decided on whether to join or not.