CLIW

Always searching UPDATE

Pirates sounds like fun to me.

Lost Royalty

Drest turned his head stiffly, a pale cloud of breath dissipating into the darkening forest. A voice calling, "Hello?" had made him tense: after the encounter with the dark magician he wasn't in much of a mood to talk. His jaw tightened and he fixed the young woman with a suspicious stare despite the failing light that made it harder to see. He still felt uneasy, but the dread that had tugged at his heart was gone. No assumptions, he reminded himself. She could be working with that... that thing. A large calloused hand brushed back his hair and he sighed softly, a little shakily. He wondered if she'd seen what had happened, and how much she'd witnessed.

Not wanting to be impolite, he strode at a relatively slow pace--he was being cautious--toward the dame. Perhaps she was lost or needed help, and he had plenty of time to be a decent person before resuming his forest wandering. One bushy eyebrow raised a little. He considered lighting one of his pine-pitch lamps but held off for now; they were a precious resource and he didn't know how long he'd be here.

"May I help you?" he asked the woman. His voice came out a little rougher than he intended.

The Last Avatar

PBS has this cool show called The Crimson Field about some volunteer nurses/medics in a World War 1 military hospital.

Lost Royalty

A cool breeze rustled Drest's straw-colored hair, but the rest of him was still as stone. It seemed almost as if the loose buckskin that covered him didn't dare move. He narrowed his eyes at the unsuspecting doe that browsed in a clearing ahead. Her hide would sell, he thought, for a good sum of pons, which he could then use for supplies that didn't come easy through a life spent mostly in the woods. He'd injured the poor creature about a mile south of here, and she walked with a limp that she clearly made an effort to mask. A pang of sympathy washed over Drest, for it reminded him of something he might do, had he been in a similar situation. Either way, she seemed to have think that she had lost him. Good. She wouldn't see the final blow coming...

And the deer didn't, as he predicted. A poisoned dart he'd bought for maybe five pons back in town, a fairly good deal, thudded neatly into the thick furry neck and caused the animal to bellow in pain and alarm. When its legs shuddered and buckled, Drest strode over and finished the kill.

The rest of the afternoon was spent butchering the doe and scraping the hide. It was grueling work, but it was better than paying for dinner, and it would last longer too. Plus, back at Belvast, with this skin so well-preserved as it was (he couldn't help his chest swelling with pride at the finished product) he was confident that he could fetch a good price for it. After rinsing his bloody hands in a small pond and scraping the dry scabby material from underneath his fingernails, Drest began the long walk toward town. Funny types came out to shop in the evening. He could probably even cop this hide and perhaps some meat for more than it was really worth.

When he arrived at the city, though, an uneasy feeling settled over him. He didn't know where it came from, but he had a sudden urge to drop everything and run. He resisted: he really needed some money, and somewhere to crash before his wanderings for the next few days. So, with a mysterious dread weighing on his heart, the man wandered down the street, hung a few turns and settled in his usual selling place. It took a few tries to sell the pelt, but eventually a woman and an oddly snake-like man both evidently had their eyes on it. Starting to sweat, Drest thrust the fur into the woman's arms before her price could be beaten and hurriedly snatched the money offered. "Thank you," he muttered, then out of obligation, said the same thing to the man, repeating one more time: "Thank you for your business. I have to go now."

"So soon?" came the soft voice of the pale snake-man. It was the auditory equivalent of smoke swirling pungently from a freshly put-out candle. "You just got here; surely you have more to vend."

"No, sorry," said Drest, his spine straightening. It was an unconscious way of making himself look bigger and more powerful, a way of intimidating a possible opponent into backing down. It didn't make him feel any better about this mysterious person. He turned away so as to head North but a sudden sharp pain, like an invisible hook had sank into his chest and pulled him backwards, back towards this... magician. With a cry, Drest turned into the only form he knew how to take: a leopard. The change broke him free and in moments he, a cat bogged down with buckskins and pouches was bounding frantically for the forest, the night deepening.

(Edit: I am so sorry for the mistakes in here.)

Lost Royalty

--Basics--

Name: Drest Judoc

Age: 21

Gender: Male

Personality: A withdrawn and nervous man, but keeps his inner turmoil to himself. He is stoic, rarely expressing or vocalizing even physical pain. He prefers to communicate non-verbally, but is proud and carries himself in a proud manner. Urban surroundings put him in a bit of a funk but of course he refuses to show it. He would rather attempt to reason than to jump into a fight.

Notable Traits: Dresses quite…primitively.

Town: Just outside of Belvast.

Kingdom: Aislann

--Appearance--

Eye color: Brownish-yellow

Hair color: Blond

Build: Muscular, but a little chubby at the same time. Basically he’s ripped but the fat outside his muscles softens up his look.

Skin tone: Heavily tanned

--Magick--

Birth Talent: Shapeshifting

Learned Talents: Potion making, (non-magical: hunting/tracking, plant identification)

Class: Novice

look for rp partner

Do you have any particular plots, genres or pairings in mind? What are your interests? This can really help you find a good partner.

You want an RP? I got an RP! (Free-Casual)

Not in particular but I have a thing for space pirates/ outlaws.

Zombies in Space

I'd definitely like to see more info on this. @nyaatalie Your avatar is fantastic

You want an RP? I got an RP! (Free-Casual)

I could go for some space/sci fi!

The Last Avatar

The night shift was always dreadful, and the only reason Konkiri ever agreed to work at those hours was because the factory threatened to drop him if he refused to. Though his job paid pathetically little, it was a higher wage than the majority of other available jobs in the city, and if he were to quit he wasn't sure that he would be able to find a replacement that was as stable. He never complained, then, when he was worked overtime with nothing extra or forced to watch a coworker fired because they'd asked for a little more protection against the industrial chemicals used often in the factory. The truth was that there were hardly any safety measures for the lowly laborers, and the higher-ups rarely took any action on it because they had a constant flow of both money and desperately poor folk searching for work.

With his muscles aching, then, he stepped into the morning light and tore off the flimsy paper mask he wore to protect him from dust, metal particles, and toxic gas (his boss talked about these things like they were respirators). Though the air just outside the factory wasn't exactly safe, he drank in a good deep breath of the relatively-clean air and smiled simply because, until the next shift, he had escaped. Now to get some scenery that wasn't just conveyer belts and vats of smelly fluid that smelled like ammonia. With a little shuffle of exhaustion to his gait, he made a beeline for the convenience store located a few blocks off.

The smell of coffee inside nearly made him drool. Whatever hours he worked, he had a considerable addiction to caffeine in any form. Caffeine tablets, despite being known to cause heart attacks because of how concentrated they were, were one of his favorites not only because they woke him up but also because they made Konkiri work at what felt like the speed of light. Coworkers commented often, things like "Are you high?" and "Mind if I have whatever you've got?" but whenever the tablets came out, he received looks that had You've got three years to live, tops written all over them.

Quickly he paid for a paper cup of disgusting coffee and a new supply of caffeine tablets, and left the half-asleep cashier to his job. They saw each other often, but never really spoke. They both knew that the other was just doing what was needed to make it through another day.

Now, sipping at the hot coffee that for some reason reminded him of asphalt, he shuffled down a street impatient for the stuff to take its effect. He was quite aware that he needed a good solid eight hours of sleep, but he never could sleep during the day. Luckily he had tonight off as there was a new supply of gullible workers starting the regular night shift. He wouldn't be going in until tomorrow. The thought made him dizzy with relief.