A simple open of confirmation, but something to help establish that canonically no one to date has encountered or confronted anything so strange directly based upon the characters at hand.
The Harbinger of Ferocity Member
STATUS: Masses are always breeding grounds of psychic epidemics. 6 yrs ago- Last Seen: 4 yrs ago
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 3754 (0.86 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- The Harbinger of Ferocity 12 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
Vixere,
Captain Uni,
parelaxis,
Passable Writer,
rush99999,
Nightwing95
Status
Recent Statuses
6 yrs ago
Current
Masses are always breeding grounds of psychic epidemics.
6 yrs ago
The highest, most decisive experience is to be alone with one's own self. You must be alone to find out what supports you, when you find that you can not support yourself.
1
like
7 yrs ago
One cannot live from anything except what one is.
7 yrs ago
The slave to virtue finds the way as little as the slave to vices.
7 yrs ago
The core of an individual is the mystery of life, which dies when it is 'grasped'. That is also why symbols want to keep their secrets.
Bio
The Harbinger of Ferocity
Agent of the Wild, Aspect of the Ferine
Nature, red in tooth and claw.
"There is, indeed, no single quality of the cat that man could not emulate to his advantage."
- Carl Van Vechten
I am, at my core, a personification and manifestation of those things whose blood and hearts run red with the ferocity of the animal world. It is this which convicts and controls my works, my writing, my being; the force and guidance in which I gain wisdom from. It is what inspires me as a creator and weaver of words, the very thing I admire as an author.
My leanings, savage as they are, are of the feline sort as there exists no greater lineage of beasts whom can be drawn from. No others captivate and motivate my talent and skill as the greatest of cats do.
Most Recent Posts
@Thundercrash@AdobeFlash@Xandrya, posting may resume, treat the turn of events as following:
The ambiance shifted from an air of discomfort to an atmosphere of pause. A long pause, one that seemed to stretch for minutes, maybe hours, but in truth was no longer than some seconds, born witness to by those who were outside the edge of the jungle itself, of which was made up by Atlas, Darius, Sukaina, and Mark, only one other member of whom had withdrawn to the other side of the plane, deeper yet. Unsurprisingly, the dark smoke of the plane's idly burning hulk made things more difficult, as tame as the fire was; content to burn that which it did not consider its own, but in any circumstance, it made vision obscured to those who were no more than a hundred feet away upon the beach.
The sort of scenario where one could have willed it a trick of the eye, an illusion. It would have been easy, too, to disbelieve it then - the figure that was, somewhere between snake and woman. The sound was... what made that impossible. It wasn't human, to say the least, not until it presented a question, accusatory to the people who set eyes upon it.
"What?"
That was this moment, that long pause.
"Is that... a snake-woman?" Darius asked to those nearest, sincere enough in his confusion that he wasn't even sure what he was looking at. Sukaina however, found herself frozen to the point of not breathing, not so much a gasp escaping her lips as she stood where she was almost like a statue.
"Yeah," Mark started in the same pattern before, "Yeah, that is a snake-woman."
Rising back to his full height, his green eyes kept to Darius who was actively disbelieving.
She already is, @Belwicket. If you have any other plans, act on them as appropriate to your character. Sakaala is just being clever by attempting to distract her while not lying. There is work to be done, after all.
If that is the path you wish to continue on @Thundercrash, then this is acceptable, as you know the danger and the consequence.
This said, you all can expect a post this evening.
This said, you all can expect a post this evening.
Even I wedged myself in and introductions are my weakest point, @VitaVitaAR. I am certain you can come up with something; use your resources, everyone here after all is a companion as you see.
In
The GOOD, the BAD, the UGLY - Opinions on roleplay discussion.
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Roleplaying Discussion
I appreciate the agreement, @Rawk. There's a fine line in that area currently, as I can understand anyone's want to roleplay a certain thing and or a certain way, but I am the sort who is all for original content. Of course it will be inspired or very similar to other content, as are all aspects of creativity, but it has a newness and dynamicness to it. You're building a world, story, characters and more. Why stymie that by rehashing already established stories when there are so many others doing the exact same thing?
That's just been my sentiment on the matter for a long time.
That's just been my sentiment on the matter for a long time.
She has no reason to, has ample distraction and is more cunning than need resort to explicitly physical means, @Belwicket. It very much fits with her earlier methods of operation.
I cannot help but agree, but I wish there were more ways to help the regular viewing populace understand that these animals in captivity are in better straights than those not in them. Their populations in general are doing better than they have in the past, but not enough to meet any desirable end. I have considered being a counter-poacher, given my areas of experience and expertise, but for some reason hunting the hunters is somehow socially and legally unacceptable.
That should be a sufficient enough post; I tried elaborating on a few matters at hand and skirting some other issues to hopefully get us on the path to the next part of the adventure to come.
One of the curved ears cupped in the direction of the noise that was the woman prattling on, but even then the battle-weary ranger kept about her business, being neither kind nor gentle with the aged wizard whose illusions and deceptions had been washed away by both the insight of those at hand and the rain water from above. Grasping one wrist, she bound it with the woman's cloth, being sure to intertwine it around and between a few fingers in addition to the wrist itself before setting it to the other; the sheer strength of the beast woman's grip could have reduced bone to splinters, but for all of the events that transpired, she took none of it out on the lady of the fallen manor. Willing the fingers of the sensationless hand, she manipulated their heavy digits, thickly padded as they were, to function in spite of the rest of the armored arm which remained most limp - what a strange sight it would be to behold, but it mattered little.
Concentration was one of her strengths, in fact, it emanated from her person like a bolstering presence. The sort that tempered weak wills and refined mighty ones to keen edges.
But she was not without lack of awareness, still tearing a strip away from another arm of the woman's robe.
"Because whether or not I like it, I've stuck with this war for 25 years, and wish to see it concluded before it consumes us all." The way the other woman's voice tapered off into harsher emphasis told Sakaala she was a target of much of the elaboration, but the leonine figure kept to her business, binding the maddened mage.
The Huntress was not about to play petty games with some human about the matters of what personal sacrifice meant, but the ordeal itself brought to her mind a saying she had heard among her company back in her more mercenary days; "The queen does not concern herself with the opinions of peasants." It was unfortunate that she found herself now relishing days of trading blood for coin, but at least there those foolish men respected and feared her because of what she was in and by itself. Now? Now she found herself tying up some crazed wizard with the shreds of her own clothes as if she were a trophy prize collected by barbarians.
The knots cinched into a vicious bond and the mithral breastplate heaved with a sigh; the woman was at last gagged and bound, just as unceremoniously as anything else the befell her this night. To which at this point, the keen ears listened in even closer then before;
"I am not asking you to come with me, but I will need that stone. Kill me now if you wish. Let the demons come and wipe out this world. While some of you may survive, you may even kill a few, it will be of no use. Their supply is endless and their power is great. And they will continue to come as long as the breach remains open."
She had no interest in replying from where she was at this distance, let alone to the speaker in question, but uttered instead with hushed breath her frustrations in native tongue, eyes shifting up to motion that drew near. Unsurprisingly, her one keen eye fell upon the small damp figure of Regina Hills, whose curiosity had been piqued for one reason or another. The tiny, by comparison of scale solely, woman looked to her with rich brown eyes, full of legitimate curiosity.
"What's going on up there? Found a survivor or something?"
The swordswoman's idle stare to the halfling before ticking to Sir Hepburnberg with the servants and back, Regina, as expected, had already set about approaching the debris, attempting to climb a few of the stones to get a better view of the rummaging that was undoubtedly continuing.
"Ajax trying to dig them out?" She carried on, seeming to hesitate briefly by looking back to the ranger and the quarry who she had been crouched by.
"Yes, someone else survived," The aged yet feminine voice began, "But no, neither they nor Diagorides require assistance."
Rising from her crouch, golden fur slicked with mud and grass about the knee and shin, she placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, giving a moment's pause. Now was not the time to deal with the tired psychic's lust of revenge or infinite curiosity; she did not want another reason to dabble with the "witchling" and her doings again tonight. There had been enough conflict as it was and all she wished for now was to be afforded the chance to sleep and muse on the events of this day.
"See if Sir Hepburberg has manacles; it seems we are taking the mad one alive." She misdirected, hoping her cunning would buy her time.
@ArenaSnow@Belwicket@IcePezz@Jon Y@vietmyke@Zero Hex
Concentration was one of her strengths, in fact, it emanated from her person like a bolstering presence. The sort that tempered weak wills and refined mighty ones to keen edges.
But she was not without lack of awareness, still tearing a strip away from another arm of the woman's robe.
"Because whether or not I like it, I've stuck with this war for 25 years, and wish to see it concluded before it consumes us all." The way the other woman's voice tapered off into harsher emphasis told Sakaala she was a target of much of the elaboration, but the leonine figure kept to her business, binding the maddened mage.
The Huntress was not about to play petty games with some human about the matters of what personal sacrifice meant, but the ordeal itself brought to her mind a saying she had heard among her company back in her more mercenary days; "The queen does not concern herself with the opinions of peasants." It was unfortunate that she found herself now relishing days of trading blood for coin, but at least there those foolish men respected and feared her because of what she was in and by itself. Now? Now she found herself tying up some crazed wizard with the shreds of her own clothes as if she were a trophy prize collected by barbarians.
The knots cinched into a vicious bond and the mithral breastplate heaved with a sigh; the woman was at last gagged and bound, just as unceremoniously as anything else the befell her this night. To which at this point, the keen ears listened in even closer then before;
"I am not asking you to come with me, but I will need that stone. Kill me now if you wish. Let the demons come and wipe out this world. While some of you may survive, you may even kill a few, it will be of no use. Their supply is endless and their power is great. And they will continue to come as long as the breach remains open."
She had no interest in replying from where she was at this distance, let alone to the speaker in question, but uttered instead with hushed breath her frustrations in native tongue, eyes shifting up to motion that drew near. Unsurprisingly, her one keen eye fell upon the small damp figure of Regina Hills, whose curiosity had been piqued for one reason or another. The tiny, by comparison of scale solely, woman looked to her with rich brown eyes, full of legitimate curiosity.
"What's going on up there? Found a survivor or something?"
The swordswoman's idle stare to the halfling before ticking to Sir Hepburnberg with the servants and back, Regina, as expected, had already set about approaching the debris, attempting to climb a few of the stones to get a better view of the rummaging that was undoubtedly continuing.
"Ajax trying to dig them out?" She carried on, seeming to hesitate briefly by looking back to the ranger and the quarry who she had been crouched by.
"Yes, someone else survived," The aged yet feminine voice began, "But no, neither they nor Diagorides require assistance."
Rising from her crouch, golden fur slicked with mud and grass about the knee and shin, she placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, giving a moment's pause. Now was not the time to deal with the tired psychic's lust of revenge or infinite curiosity; she did not want another reason to dabble with the "witchling" and her doings again tonight. There had been enough conflict as it was and all she wished for now was to be afforded the chance to sleep and muse on the events of this day.
"See if Sir Hepburberg has manacles; it seems we are taking the mad one alive." She misdirected, hoping her cunning would buy her time.
@ArenaSnow@Belwicket@IcePezz@Jon Y@vietmyke@Zero Hex
© 2007-2026