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The Grey Dust male Member

The
Grey

STATUS: Have you tried playing a clueless GM? No serious, give ZERO clues for your players, absolutely watch them try to figure out how things are supposed to work until they give up and you make them DM 2 days ago
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2 days ago
Current Have you tried playing a clueless GM? No serious, give ZERO clues for your players, absolutely watch them try to figure out how things are supposed to work until they give up and you make them DM
1 like
3 days ago
The ocean floor is a plaice where soles lay turbot and flounder for the halibut.
1 like
4 days ago
1x1 group roleplay, but swinger rules so you write with different partners every 3 months. Everyone drop your keyboards into the decorative Vase...
1 like
9 days ago
I gave you a bunch of daffodils because you're such a narcissist.
1 like
10 days ago
Well if you must know, tonight we have a fine selection of courses for your dining pleasure, you may choose to either eat a dick, some pussy, or my ass.. If you're lucky you'll get a three course meal
5 likes

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Most Recent Posts

In D&D 5e - High Seas and Tall Tales → 6 yrs ago Forum: Tabletop Roleplay
"How disappointing it broke already." The umbramancer's voice twinged with a combination of loss and invigoration. The battle surely aroused him, the shadows around him bolstering his strength as the essence of his hex-marked foe was breathed in like liquid ecstasy. There the defeated beast fell victim to the shadows, the fading curse upon its central head sapping what dying life it before growing cold. This mongrel was easy, being the enmity of the hexblade. Yet the other two would be more of a challenge for his skills. Thus with his eyes glancing about the victorious lot, he knew they could make short work of these mutts for the excess of pure obliteration had rendered the dogs undone. Tiger rending flesh, light like searing fire. Everything all in excess for the sheer part of flogging a dead horse, and as much as he loved flogging there was no fun when there was no response.

The shadows at his arm shifted once more, the tendril of darkness swirling around as it snaked around the caster's arm. Pulled by his will at last, the lash became a blade. The simplicity of it all, an edge with which to cut, a handle of which to grasp. A dark saber, the weapon of a hexblade. Not as clumsy or random as a blaster. An elegant weapon for a more civilized age. Still kept in the darkest darkness, twas perhaps impossible for others still to see save for the divine Koan. The mistress by his side, with eyes as manic as his was grim. A playdate to be made, for even if she bore the light and dark, so too did he. Or at least he once did, perhaps as dim as it may be now. Would they court? Or would Jill be the one to save him from his own inner black? Or was it that she was sent to bring him to her, this Koan? Grand schemes of heaven cast away the Fallen aasimar grabbed his eager sword, feeling the shadows shifting with anticipatory power. The whispering wisps urging, begging you to kill.

A whistle.
Mocking lips made clear across the sea.
A beckon for the dogs to return to their newfound master.
Rising from the shadows the hounds were regurgitated back.
To see the remains of its brethren dead and lying.
Submit or suffer the same fate.

In Full House → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
You're... You're alive D:!

And not a frankenzombie potato? D:!

Hurray! :D!
Uh... Hrm I'll have to see juggling quite a few rps right now.
I think we are waiting on Sil to confirm :P
In Gods: Redux: a Deity RP (FULL) → 6 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay


In Gods: Redux: a Deity RP (FULL) → 6 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay

In Gods: Redux: a Deity RP (FULL) → 6 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay


In 5e D&D - Mines of Phandelver → 6 yrs ago Forum: Tabletop Roleplay
He threw it into those rapacious gullets.
Such as that dog is, who by barking craves,
And quiet grows soon as his food he gnaws,

-Inferno, Canto VI, Lines 27-29

Three barking mouths, snarling fangs with lips uncurled. The chain of their tether strained back as a wolf tested the length of its chain. Finding itself salivating at the mouth, and yet pulled back and recalled to the post. Ah there it would find its bond infuriating, wanting to gnaw at the metal that condemns them to this starving hell. For they were gluttonous beasts, craving for flesh so unwittingly walking at the mouth of the cave before them. Food and water, so close to the water's edge as the party entered, threading across the stone, scented most foul. It was only natural that the canines took offense to the malingering scent which wafted in, and howled in recourse. What gave them away in the depth of the cave? Was it their faces in the light? The stench? the sound of splashing feet? Or the hunger that filled their empty stomachs to churn upon themselves. A tongue that dripped of venom, nearly foaming to maim and kill, to fill their pain with soothing balm of gilead, to feast upon something to save their stomachs from the ulcers that shall destroy itself. Oh for the sake of hunger, did their eyes sharpen, fur raised and bristled back, heart pump with a hunting vigor. The primal forces urging the wolves to howl and hunt, the pack alive once more.

And as they had their pack, so did the psion have his. Food for thought, as he reached into the reclaimed bits of goblin food and threw them within reach of hungry jowls. He knew a hungry mongrel when he saw one, too many times he had to fend them off to snatch a meal for himself as a street rat. But he also knew the appearance of a dangerous cur, one driven to the edge of starvation and rabid enough to bite. These wolves were no different, and it did not take a great intellect to surmise that it was difficult to bite an arm or leg or snarl and howl, when a mouth was busy chewing on food. As such with food in sight the wolves like current, flowed to the path of least resistance, taking to the food with lapping appreciation, allowing the party to move on in peace perhaps...

Unless of course these wolves would still be hungry after their meal, and find themselves hungering like the risen dead for human (orc, goliath, crow, and whatever the changeling classifies as) flesh. As such, lacking their presumptuously presumed leader Seethe, the mute turned to Kiki and raised an eyebrow, before making a hand motion towards the continued path. Hopefully these dogs will leave them be, and this bribe will not come to bite them in the arse later.

In Gods: Redux: a Deity RP → 7 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Interest Checks
Yes.

I would like to throw my hat into the ring.

Would a God of Knowledge with subdomains of Secrets and Magic? Be acceptable and if so may I Claim said god?
In D&D 5e - High Seas and Tall Tales → 7 yrs ago Forum: Tabletop Roleplay
A bite of the serpent's appeal,
Pain which physicians never heal,
Produced with evil seeds in wait,
Lost is innocence: gone is faith,
Eyes hungered for the tainted meal.

It had all gone so swimmingly, each player doing their task. Allies were summoned, conjured as they appeared to take into the fray. The water elemental although taking tooth and nail, seemed to avenge itself by pummeling its foe in the style of pugilists. Slamming itself into the chosen dog all the while a shark seemed to have joined in on the fray with pointed teeth. All of them took their marks, taking after how the warlock took after Jill's bullet and began to punish the hound. The beholder seemed to forgo his sword for a novel cast of lightning, the electricity jolting all at once across the line of three enemies. Each dog suffering after the other in exquisite pain that made the masochist scrape his tongue inside his mouth with a hint of jealousy. To feel the lash across ones flesh was a searing agony, but to experience the shock coursing through every neuron? Indeed the fallen had a burning desire to be the one receiving such a storm by Cynthia and Dyn. For this worthless mongrel failed thrice to obey and bite, for all the teeth that gnashed and growled, no such head could lead the attack without the inner quarrel. Thus with a heavy heart the Warlock was struck with impunity, unbearably unscathed for all his masochist drive.

Yet along came a dark angel, a cursed blessing that stirred the oceans into frenzy. A mistress clad in darkness and nothing more, a seducer in the shadows bearing fishnet stockings improper naked and yet clothed. Indeed like Venus, from the castrated impotence of a titan, born from the sea. Oh how the waters parted in her wake in her rapidly rabid advance, washed in foam and darkness as pure as tarnished silver. From those pale lips the kraken's ink, the essence of nyx that flowed so thickly from her harlequin smile, sweet pitiless salivation. In the darkness the duo dabbled, two wretched beauties as twisted as they were flawed. Enveloped in their danse macabre, a tango of death and domination. Whip and net intertwined as dark tendencies wove the odd couple together much to the impairment of the dog's vision to see the grey and pallor sight. His rhythm returning the whipping lash around his own body as the weapon snaked around his chest and waist as if directed by the will of the umbramancer. For all the disappointment in the hound's failure to strike back, Koan's presence beside him was more than welcome with the tides of darkness the perverted goddess brang. her hips gyrating in open carnality as she recited her orders like a vedeic mantra.

"My lady of agony... Shall we play with our misbehaved mutt?" Nothing would be as sweet as a private show in the dark. The others had avoided the summoned void, keeping to the underlight that was filtering through the sunless, airless sky of sea. But Koan understood him, and he yearned to understand her, a puzzling paradox of madness that tugged at his dark self. The nature of the clown was not that of a fool, not by those eyes, not by the way her dervish twirled in time to deliver the eldritch blasts those puppies so deserved. Dark magics filled the waters, what pact did she make with her soul? What taint did manifest in her mystery? Who was the master of this mistress? One above her that sent him to her in conniving and conceiving an wicked intimacy between them? A child of anemones beneath the blood-fed waves, offspring of dark and darker still.

And yet alas, it would seem the heavens would intervene from this trysted lariat. Beatrice, sweet Beatrice, from the celestial planes on high, breaking the moment with spellbinding beauty that outshone the darkest purgatory. The colours of the pattern, woven with the brother of death's curly locks, scintillating so from the crystal until alas their dog toy could growl no longer at the barking mad darkness. And behold, the tri-headed hellhound before the dangerous duo was lulled into a trance. Slowed from wrath and ruin into a sluggish apathy, much to the disappoint of 'Sauron' who frowned at the conflicting nuances in both women's demands. One goaded, urged, demanded of his lash to strangulate and harm until no more struggle would come from the whelping, but the other who had so wrapped the worthless mongrel around her fingers like the twirls of her own hair so desired that no such harm should come to her pet. Her pet? No, it was their pet, for only pain, only delicious pain could be fed to such a ravenous beast, a glutton for punishment. So why should the pain stop? There would be no pleasing Beatrice in the bounty of purgatory, but the golden apple of Dis was placed upon the Warlock's hand, just as much as the wispy shadow whip. From Adonis to Paris, fairest of all for the fairest. To Koan alone he whispered low in tutting: "How disappointing. She has taken away our toy..."

"Then to the shadows with you Curs! Shadow Banish." A whip untwisted with a flick, circling like a shark as it swung around like a lasso from the darkness. The master's symbol of dominion over the lesser beasts, the primal reaction to abhor the sting of the cruel lash. A crack resounded, and then another, twice fold was the whip cast and recast away at the uncharmed hounds remaining in the fray. And from their own shadows did rise the greater beasts, morphed into forms befitting their owner's nature. The jaws engulfed them, sealing shut as the twin heads of Orthrus emerged to snatch away the other dogs and leave the last one hypnotized before the warlocks. Jill had so taken away their fun together by demanding this dog untouched, but now he had forced the issue as the others disappeared from sight for the moment. They would return for as long as his concentration held, entrapping them in the realm of shadows in the belly of their fabled cousin. The hexblade had no intention of sharing their toy, what greed marked this target theirs and theirs alone was wiped as radiant Jill took control of the situation with a spell rather than by instilling a fear and natural submission to the plaything.

"Now we have no choice do we?" A smile of lunacy beamed at Koan in pride.
A compromise between both ladies, the one in control would be kept from the harm of the other dogs sensing their brother's stupor.
But now it was fair game for the rest of them to ravage until the seas ran with blood to bring forth the Furies.


In 🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed) → 7 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Thomas Richard Harrison

Location: Barad-dûr (The Tower).
Interacting with: Satilla, Nor.



Vacant now as before,
Or perhaps I never was,
In essence I am nothing,
Do you know what I am?

What strange magics flitted here and there. Something was certainly amiss, Thomas could feel it in the air. The boy's spell had pulled his target back, just as he had intended, armor flung back and partially crushed by the sheer force of gravity. And yet something unexpected happen, something of an anomaly that all the armors seemed to be frozen in time. Their advance halted for whatever reason and the sorcerer wondered why. His own spell shouldn't have done that, not given the range he could manage and the stability of the gravity well he could produce. Sure with another decade or two of training the very same spell could destroy entire battlefields, swallowing up everything into the event horizon like extruding noodles from a pipe. There was a potential for greatness, and great destruction. Of course, that said, the Sorcerer had years of experience ahead of him, and this vocational exploration was exactly what was needed to hone his more practical skills.

That said, never look a gift horse in the mouth, or so the farm-boy would know. Whatever held the armors down be it his spell or something else, the rest of the group took it upon them to capitalize on the break in continuity. Behind him the sound of a bear mauling the reverent, Kyra, Keystone and Sana seem to also be managing their foes with their arms. Leaving the magically inclined of the party at arms with an armor that could charge them at any moment. Well not that the zombie could charge, more like shuffle towards in a very slow stumbling motion given the damage to the metal and the ex-ex-man inside. Did Satilla intend to be the point guard? As touched as he was, the party's healer really shouldn't be placed in such a dangerous position, then again he wasn't too keen on getting in a debate of party roles with Satilla right this very instant. Thus Thomas yielded, and stood his ground behind Satilla watching the girl take her defensive stance with a glorified stick as those soulless eyes stared from the helmet'd dead. "May we should let the fighters handle it Satilla, I mean you're too important to- Us."

Ask and you shall receive. For like some stout-drinking stout knight, the dwarven metal man interceded himself between the non-fighters. Well it was time to see the man's knife skills in play. All the while Thomas pondered what spell drove the cogs behind the armor. What possible interaction could have been made between his spell and theirs? Searching his mind for any sort of connection that could be drawn from the cosmic nature of the disruption to the nature of magicks most malefic. And alas, nothing. "Uh, Feel free to go at it, I'll withhold my spells for now and stay out of your hair!" Oh the irony of telling a barber they can cut without worry of being burned...
In D&D 5e - High Seas and Tall Tales → 7 yrs ago Forum: Tabletop Roleplay
Noriam the Shadow


Cerberus, monster cruel and uncouth,
With his three gullets like a dog is barking
Over the people that are there submerged.

-Inferno, Canto VI, Lines 13-15

The Great Worm, or worms, in the distance howling. With a sigh the umbral one shook his head, one part disappointed in being dragged into a fight from the shadows, and one part disappointed that he would not be able to allow the darkness the drow mistress had conjured up to envelop his flesh. Oh for a tainted soul seeking cleansing, the warlock did love his shadows, feeling their cold warm his skin, the unradiance filling his spirits. Black as jet ink, ebongloam like the void, swallowing and expanding the edge of darkness unto the brink. Enwrapt by the tendrils, obsidian lace like a mantle over his mantled body, and with the sensuous touch of pitch a net held in hand. Just as Koan had instructed, though interwoven in such grasp a serpentine form snaking around his armored arm. Were they to capture this guardian? Hound or not, elemental or not, 'Sauron' had his preferences for his own canine companion. Even as he watched through the growing darkness with those devilish eyes ever-burning orange, he knew what must be done. Yes, A test, a trial, a labor, one of dozens to be done to be redeemed in the eyes of the accursed Gods. And so be it, to step out of the shadows, soon enough,

But one was not enough was it? One for all they had was easy, but three? Oh three would be a challenge. With teeth and claws, waiting to gnash and splay, to cut and cut deep. To gorge, and tear, to rip asunder and taint the dark waters with scarlet blood. To feel those fangs burrow into the flesh: such pain, and those claws slashing across the skin: such agony. Those thoughts made a creeping smile appear across the Fallen's lips, an eye cast at Koan, those pale lashes blinking in a forgiveness for her plan and preparation to be unraveled by some offending dolt. One of their numbers had summoned an aqueous ally, but it was she that awoke the tranquility of the watchmen. Whatever plans they had, be it capture, diplomacy, or polymorphic ways, dissolved away with the attention of the beasts. Thus the hunt began, the prey to be hunted the hunters, and the hunters where the prey. It has been only a week or so since he had the pleasure of killing a quarry, most preferred their bounties alive for whatever purposes they had to bring justice to those who evaded capture. Thus alas, so many were no good to him dead, but sometimes there would be an understanding of sorts and the death deemed was... Acceptable.

"I'll be sure to leave one alive for you to play with..." The warlock's wicked smile beneath that eternal hood shot at Koan just as Jill did the same to the approaching trio. They had summoned darkness, and what appeared to be a water elemental to their side, but now it was for 'Sauron' to do his part, taking his strides out into the underlight moving towards the female Aasimar who fired the first shot. And as the shadowed one left, the shadows pulled with him, linger wisps and tendrils longing to claim their servitor, or was it he that led them into the sea's light? Pulled out of the bitter darkness, the shape of a whip, cast of shadows themselves as they magically coalesced into being within his right hand. His shadow lash, manifested the dark tendril ever billowy but crisp with his full swim that glided effortlessly as afforded by the wing-like nature of his enchanted cloak. The whip a weapon to tame the foul beasts, to teach them the beauty in pain, the bounty of agony. It was time for battle and these whelps would find an eager, if not suicidal, playmate in 'Sauron'

"Shadow Hex." The invocation of the shadows as an infernal glare seared itself into the triple pairs of the beast marked for death by Jill. There before the menagerie did the Fallen stand in wispy armor dark, lash of shadows in hand like a dark lord of domination. Spell-storing ring glinting in hand a signet proper inscribed and prepared with magical shields at ready. Let them come at him, unlike those who preferred to savour their spells, the warlock had no intention of doing so, should all three beast come to engage him then all the better. They shall feel the feel the power of the dark side. Even now as the shadows bore witness to the mark of Cain upon the poor unfortunate beast's central head, one that would condemn it more than Jill's bullet may have so too did 'Sauron' think of the heavens. Was she watching? Did she care about him?

"Heel, Whelp." The whip cracked. Swung around to gain momentum as the hexblade raised his arm, circling back as they approached the shadow sentinel boldly striding into abyssal depths. There was no fear of pain upon death, no worry of being torn limb from limb. No the pain would be to die for, the greatest to feel in a lifetime as three mouths shredded your mangled still-living body between the three dogs. But for now, let them bark before the sting of the lash. The first of many marks cutting across as fading shadows danced across the target inflicting the pain its wielder so loved. And more was the back-swing flung away in sweet sadism as the weapon of darkness struck again, crossing the original slash with an X. There a true mark of a cursed creature, marked for death by the warlock's curse laid upon it as twinges of agony would seep into the foul wound. Unto the brink of death and back then, this bold move shall put him within the reaches of the beasts.

"Bite me!"

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