Status

Recent Statuses

6 days ago
Current As Spring grows, so too does the itch to dream, to imagine, and to create.
6 mos ago
It's Christmas time! Put up the lights, and hold up your light! #LightTheWorld
7 mos ago
And it's impossible to edit a status. Wonderful. I meant to say my hard drive is down; I'm working out of a flash drive now.
7 mos ago
Whoops. That's one flash drive destroyed. Kids, take good care of your toys! For those concerned, thank you! I don't have any storage, but I do have access to a browser; roleplaying continues!
10 mos ago
Driving on my lunch break when a random kid on the sidewalk yells, "It's the internet man! Hi internet man!" Spend the rest of Monday feeling like a champ.
3 likes

Bio

*Picks up the profile*
*Looks at it oddly, as though it vaguely reminds him of something he read once*
*Blows off a mountain of dust*

Ah! That's what this is! It's my old role-player guild account!

Hello, folks, from a friend new and old. Old in that I spent many happy hours fictating way back in Old-Guild before Lost Christmas, and then I spent some time in New-Guild during its beginning development; new in that I've been gone for two years, so a lot of the "faces" I was familiar with back then don't seem to be haunting the place these days. Whether you've known me before or not, I extend to you a hearty greeting and a virtual feast. If you'd like a name shorter than the full one, please call me Taro. I'm rather comfortable with that one.

Well, you didn't come here just to hear about my history. You're probably looking to see what kind of a role-player I am. Truthfully, I'm not totally certain right now; two years without practice does bring on a multitude of changes. Then again, even in those two years I've kept the creative spark fed and fanned, in isolation though it may have been, and I can tell you this much with great certainty:
I like light-hearted laughter, soul-searching questions, and that precipice of commitment.
My favorite settings would be:
High Fantasy
Modern Fantasy
Science Fiction (new worlds, a newer Earth, even just in the immensity of space)
I consider it a given that, where boys and girls coexist in a story, Romance will blossom.
Horror I have a very weak stomach for. (I read the basic instructions for Betrayal at House on the Hill and had to consciously tell myself that night that everything was fine and I would sleep safely. I didn't even play a game; I only read the instructions!)
I stay away from graphic violence, sexual depictions of any nature, and profanities. I'm very much a PG-rated writer; I plan on sharing everything I write as bedtime stories with my kids someday.

I play a convincing dude (I'm sure you never would have guessed that), but a vast majority of my favorite characters are female. So if you have romance in mind, I'm happy to play either party. If you don't want a romance, you will probably have to tell me that plainly. Then I'll just go with what feels right for the story, subject to a few personal whims which I hope will only bolster the plot and development.

I'm very picky as far as my own ideas go. I'll try just about everything I can think of to break the idea in order to insure there are no gaping plot holes. I invite everyone else to examine my ideas in a similar light--different people, different thought processes, different problems discovered--and to offer any compliments or constructive criticisms you have. As part of that, I absolutely love pushing the boundary of an idea as far as it will stretch, or looking for that odd, "I never thought of using it like that" approach to a character's abilities.

What else would I say with this space? I really like old poetry; reading Isaiah gives me the happy trembles. I hope I've presented a fair assessment of my writing style and capabilities through this brief introduction. I love creating--creating characters and bringing them to life from the page; creating worlds filled with fascinating lore and beautiful locales; creating stories, be they narrations of ordinary men and women facing their trials or epics of fated heroes overcoming every obstacle to save Dwarf-kind.

And, in closing, I'm excited for the chance to work with you. I should be able to post daily. PM me anytime, especially if you have a question about anything I've said here or elsewhere, but even if you only want to chat. You could even ask me about my mysterious two-year absence. I'll tell you now that I was in California, but that doesn't really answer the question. I'm happy to talk anytime.

Sweet water and light laughter until next we meet!
-Taro

Most Recent Posts

In Loving Lily 2 days ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
Happy weekend! I hope your summer weather is as beautiful as mine is right now!
In Loving Lily 4 days ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
Grace slid out the cutting board and readied the first pepper beneath her knife. "Right? I do like my job at this station, but some of my coworkers' tastes in music are so weird! If I could make my own radio station, it would have a lot of orchestras and symphonies along with the newer techno pieces. Maybe I could even sneak some of my own violin pieces onto the air!" Grace turned to her friend and grinned. "Just kidding! Nothing I've made is anywhere close to being ready to share on the radio."

She turned back to her knife, dicing a stalk of celery with short, rapid strokes. Then she reached for the onion, though she hesitated a moment when it came under her blade. After a breath to resolve herself, she started cutting it into strips.
In Loving Lily 4 days ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
Ah. Oh dear. Should I wish you pleasant dreams, or no dreams so you can sleep like the dead? Well, whatever is best for your health and sanity, I wish it upon you. =)
In Loving Lily 4 days ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
@SammyPanda Did I not leave enough for you to work off of? Or did you do what I did and forget to subscribe to the thread?
In Loving Lily 5 days ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
"Both?" she echoed, her brow scrunching in contemplation. Moments passed listening to the rain as gears visibly turned in Grace's head. "Alright," she finally answered, her face breaking into a smile. "I have a way to do both! If you'll start the ricemaker, I can begin frying some veggies."

Grace pulled open the closet just outside the kitchen and retrieved her favorite apron from its hook on the back of the door. It was a soft blue, and a peace sign with every color in the rainbow covered the chest. She pulled it on over her hoodie and capris, tying it quickly behind her back before diving into the fridge once more.

"So you should have seen Miri at work today," Grace commented, starting up the conversation. "I'm sorting through our dubstep tracks when she walks over, waving her phone. 'You have to play this one,' she tells me. I put an earbud in and almost screamed; there wasn't anything but over-electrified guitar chords and feedback loops. 'I can't play that on air!' I told her, but she kept trying all day. Something about 'the next era for music,' she insisted." Grace laughed happily. "I mean, the station is hardly radio classical, but that was just too much for anyone who's not Miri."
In Loving Lily 5 days ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
And... @SammyPanda!
In Loving Lily 5 days ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
The beginnings of a rainstorm pattered quietly against the window. Clouds covered the last of the waning sun’s light, leaving little natural lighting in the apartment. A damp gray painted the kitchen in melancholy, appliances left as nothing more than silhouettes in the gloom.

With a tiny ‘click,’ the lights came on. Shadows appeared beneath chairs, behind doors, within drawers. Grace stepped into the artificially-lit room, her arms stuffed in the pocket of a dark-green hoodie. One hand reached out and pulled the refrigerator open with a soft crackle. The faint, electric buzz of a machine at work grew louder and a new light painted a new set of shadows across the floor.

Crouching down, Grace slid the crisper open. The rustling of produce bags covered over the pitter-patter of raindrops for a time. “Hmmmm. Peppers, celery, carrots, onion, tomato.... Lily?” she called, raising her voice to carry to the bedrooms. “What sounds better tonight: rice? or potatoes?”
Alisea:
Day 7 - spent day in library learning the written system, leaving the Literature Skill's autotranslate feature off.
Day 8 - same, but with Kyo in her company while half the guild was away. The pair studied together most of the day, stopping to go out for meals and just a bit of meandering about town. At certain persons' insistence, the magess did not take their charge anywhere even potentially dangerous.
Also of note, she has pulled Kyo into her room to share the large bed with herself and Aster. Anyone who hopes to object should message Alisea here or on Discord. ;)

Also, tag @Ithradine, @Tybalt Capulet, and @Trainerblue192 for that last post. (I went and forgot to include it IC, so you'll get it here.)


The afternoon looked like it would be a pleasant one. There hadn’t been a bad day yet, though knowing what she did of their host Alisea suspected a thunderstorm was only a matter of time. That made it important to utilize a day such as this. And after two full days locked in the library, she welcomed the bright day. At present she was sitting on a grassy field outside Genesis City, recording notes on her day’s research.

“Limbs don’t break or tear away; perhaps there are specific skills for causing those conditions.” Alisea’s finger tapped across the screen as she spoke, writing out her words in a message to Fyaira. “The boars react to a physical stimulus without damage, so their programming accounts for ‘pain’ as well as ‘attacks’--a strong indication there are non-damaging skills to pull an enemy’s aggression.”

To her side, a weak snort was all the cry a nearly-crippled boar could make as it tried to charge once more. Without even looking, Alisea raised a hand and cast Nether Push, halting the beast’s advance. Immediately she switched to a Nether Pull, toppling the boar forward and grinding its snout into the dirt once more.

“The starting mob has no intelligence, so its attack patterns are discernable and predictable. Also, the terrain is capable of causing damage to the mobs, so it is likely the same for players; a bad tumble may cost you HP.”

The boar stood once more, its HP bar scarcely containing an inch of life. This time Alisea let it start into its charge, building some momentum. Then she Pulled it forward once more. Unprepared for the extra speed, the boar’s legs faltered and it tumbled to the ground, coming to a stop not a meter away from the magess. She was mildly irked it hadn’t slid close enough to allow her to remain seated.

Alisea twisted her body and reached out with her hand. The boar was trying to stand once more; a Shadow Bind brought that to a stop. Alisea’s hand drew near, but the creature couldn’t move a muscle. Panic filled its eyes--a feral look of a cornered beast. She devoured that look, her own gaze swallowing it without empathy. The magess placed her hand on the creature’s eye and began to drain the heat.

It tried to shut the eye against the pain. It howled from deep inside as best it could without moving its jaw. Everything that wasn’t locked in place by its shadow squirmed and fought, but her hand remained in place. She counted the seconds--five, ten, twenty--and pulled her hand away. The eye remained whole, undamaged. In one last effort, she jabbed her fingers into the boar’s eye with all her strength. The blow hit and bounced off, just as though she had punched its side. Its HP dropped the last portion and the boar tipped over, slain.

The magess let out a sigh and returned to her typing. “Similar to the limbs, eyesight cannot be impaired through simple damage; again, I suspect specific skills target these capabilities, and interfering with them is impossible without those skills. The only good news coming out of this is that the same will apply to adventurers: normal damage will not disrupt our capabilities. We cannot lose limbs (or the use thereof) nor our eyesight, hearing, smell, or taste unless a specific status causes it, and skills or abilities causing such will be limited and identifiable.”

The body of the boar shattered into droplets of light and disappeared. Sixty seconds after the time of death, every time. That didn’t answer definitely whether a player was killed right away or after those sixty seconds, but it just might have been possible the GM left a grace period and some way to resurrect an ally--perhaps with a miracle. But that was one suggestion the magess dare not say aloud.

With that test subject lost, Alisea cast her glance around for the next. No more boars remained nearby; other players were pulling them away to train themselves. Embarrassingly, even though they were a week into this world, she had seen a player die under these simple mobs. As best she could tell at a distance, he had failed to maintain his gear and it broke during the combat. Foolish mistakes were certainly costly in life--especially this life.

Alisea sent off the message to Fyaira--now those notes would be saved for the both of them, at least for a month--and started another message. She spent a few moments in silence, pondering what to say. Finally her fingers began to move again.

“I hope you did not mind my slipping out early, Aster. You returned so late yesterday, I wanted to let you sleep longer. And you had Kyo to keep you company; she is a good assistant. If you need to access the storage, or if you want to have some fun, I have almost finished out here in the fields. Maybe we can find a salon to prepare for tomorrow’s festival!”

She sent that message, then started yet again:

“Reylan, I hope you enjoyed the trip! I have some thoughts to share with you when you have time--not the least of which is how adorable Kyo is! We had a lot of fun at the library yesterday, and she was a tremendous help! I hope you take good care of her today. Good luck with the search and everything else!

P.S. She may still be with us for the festival tomorrow, so make sure you plan for that possibility.”


Alisea nodded to herself as she sent the message. As it was for Reylan, leaving mention of the festival in the middle would be too little; tacking it onto the end should help the word lodge in his thoughts. She couldn’t count how many times she’d made sure to mention it over the last three days. Surely by now he would be thinking about it instead of worrying over Paralyze or other insignificant things. And as long as he was thinking about it, he would realize (he would, right?) he still hadn’t asked Aster to accompany him.

With her housekeeping finished, Alisea stood to look for another subject. More players had appeared on the field, so even fewer chances would present themselves; rather than waste time waiting, Alisea turned and started her jog back to the city. With the spare time she could…

An idea struck her. She opened her messages again, slowing to a walk only long enough to type out a short note.

“Hello, River! Do you like pastries? Baker Josef has a special right now leading up to the festival, if you would care to join me.”
The sun had dropped to the horizon, bathing the land in a majestic crimson. Freya paused in her travels long enough to enjoy the beauty of the sunset. Everything around her was washed with red.

With flames.

An uneasiness swept over Freya as she stood there. The woman pulled her staff close and cast her eyes about. These were the plains--open farmland in every direction. Nobody could be sneaking up on her, especially not on the raised highway. The feeling she had wasn’t one of personal danger, either; nevertheless, casting one last look at the dipping sun, Freya felt something off. Different. That there was a change.

’If I don’t hurry, I won’t reach Euford before full dark.’ Willing herself forward, Freya resumed her journey. Whatever her premonition was, the Flow would show her in time.

* * * * * * *

The wall came into view just as twilight enveloped the road. Freya approached the city guard with a wave. When she drew near enough to make out the men’s faces, she broke into a beaming smile. “Dirk! And Halden, too! What is the foreman thinking, letting a pair of slackers work the same shift?”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Dirk countered, crossing toned arms over his chest. “I work more hours than any other guard in Euford--no, in the whole of Adelon!”

“Punishment hours don’t count,” Halden interjected.

“Uh-oh,” Freya muttered in sympathy. ”Don’t tell me the viceroy found out that you and his daughter-”

“SSSHHHHH!” Dirk hissed desperately. He cast a wary eye at his companion--Halden was looking away and whistling, pretending he didn’t know exactly what was going on--then wrapped an arm around Freya’s shoulders and turned her to the side of the road. “I’ve told you a thousand times, she came on to me! And nothing like that happened, so stop saying weird things!”

Freya giggled quietly. ”I know, I know. I’m sorry. But you did want to chase after her, right?”

Color tinted Dirk’s cheeks, so he turned his head away to try to hide it. “Yeah,” he answered at length. “As soon as I’m strong enough. That’s why I’m working all these extra hours! Foreman keeps catching me training-” he tried to shut himself up, but it was too late.

”...in ‘disturbances of the peace’ I assume?” She had enough heart not to call it bar brawling.

“Heh. Sometimes it’s better for public peace, y’know? Give a couple of these transient troublemakers a good smack, they behave the rest of their stay. Last week we had this crazy guy from out of town trying to tell people how magi can be virtuous! If you let looneys like that run loose, nothin’ but trouble will come.”

Freya felt her shoulders tense, so she immediately spun out of Dirk’s grip before he could notice her reaction. She met gazes with Halden. She didn’t know what face she was wearing right then, but she was terrified it might give away her disgust. Thankfully, Halden simply averted his gaze, going back to watching the dim road.

She willed herself back to calm. “If we let crazies like you run loose, we’ll have even more trouble!” Freya jabbed with a forced giggle. Dirk took mock offense, protesting her unjust portrayal of his heroics. She quickly bade the pair farewell after that, hurrying into the town as night descended.

She made her way toward the tavern, knowing Grumpy would have a bed available. Visitors stopping overnight were rare out here--that alone made a group standing in the square a curiosity. They became a full-blown novelty when Freya recognized what each of them were. A Muran child wearing what looked to be Demacite-powered gauntlets was the first to catch her eye. Nearby stood a young man in haggered dress, ready for battle; he must be the young master’s bodyguard. A Ydran woman was present, though noticeably detached from the Murans. Freya could guess their distaste for anyone of another race; it was likely they hired her for her survival skills and avoided interacting with her as much as possible. And at the center was a small-

Ice flowed down Freya’s spine even as sweat appeared on her brow. At the center was Amuné. Disheveled, dirty, and thinner than ever, but it was certainly the small girl Freya would see clinging to her mother, Ma’am Amira. Just as panic swept in, Freya’s eyes caught sight of Wyth standing faithfully next to her. He was at ease--or at least, not aggressive--so she could logically conclude that there was no immediate danger to the girl. But logic can only do so much against emotion. Freya stepped forward, catching the final edge of what the young master was saying.

“...to get a map and get going…”

“Going where, young master?” Freya called as she came out of the shadows. Her staff was gripped tightly in her right hand, and her face was set in a cold glare. “The sun is gone for today, and travel after dark is unsafe--now more than ever. Surely you aren’t thinking of bringing that girl out into peril?” She kept her voice level, but the words were hard and pointed. Her eyes rose to meet those of the wealthy child’s bodyguard--the white-haired Muran. “Why do you have that girl with you? Shouldn’t she be with her parents?”

The accusation wasn't blatant, but it was present. She hadn't taken her pack off, so Freya hoped it wouldn't come to a fight. The guard were close by, but... Amuné was closer. Her prayer was for a peaceful surrender, though she had yet to meet a villain who would.
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