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2 yrs ago
I crave death
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2 yrs ago
Everything I learnt about NFTs have been non-consensual
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5 yrs ago
while(inDream=true) {otaku.salary()+=}
5 yrs ago
I don't know who this Boltzmann fella is but he owes me a physics test and a whole lotta trouble
5 yrs ago
Can someone please explain why my discords are on fire about this forum right now? I just woke up and I don't have enough coffee to read a bazillion status updates
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Bio



Most Recent Posts





Laurentia Parsons






| 21 | Female | No Thoughts Head Empty |


| Appearance |

Though she's appeared in many department positions, she's always returned to the Crisis Resolution department as a high impact field operative. No matter wherever she appears or how serious her office is however, she is consistently breaking dress codes and turning up to work in tardy and casual clothes, trying to catch up on whatever is considered 'trendy' by modern standards. The only consistent article of clothing is a simple rain jacket she dons whenever she gets into a combat situation. Combined with her aloof and awkward nature, she always looks out of depth despite being one of the longest serving operatives.

| WEAPON |

A lantern made out of old corrugated iron and glass. When powered, it projects a field of heavy illusory rain that supresses all sources of light in all nearby surroundings except for those near the lantern. Since most of Laurentia's spells draw strength from relative luminosity, Laurentia's arrival at a combat scene is usually heralded by the sound of storms.

| MAGIC: RADIANCE |

Refract - A simple spoken spell that upon invocation temporarily speeds up the user's physical movement. When in effect, observers will see both the user that was sped up and a translucent after-image that move in regular speed. Though its effects can be extended through concentration, its resource draw also increases rapidly - thus it is usually employed in short, quick bursts.

Recall - A written spell that draws upon a subject's memory to create hardlight mimics of an object. Hardlight does not copy the original properties of the object, and always takes a luminescent shimmering yellow. The accuracy of the spell is dependent on how detailed the memory of the object is - the more detailed or recent the memory is, the better the mimic captures the finer details. Within the range of the light source, the object can be controlled remotely by the person recalling. Hardlight is incredibly durable, inflexible and persists for a long duration until it is dispelled or the original source of the light it was summoned from is snuffed out. The spell is most often used to recall Laurentia's sword in a combat situation.

Cleanse - A spoken spell that shoots a large beam of concentrated light towards a target, designed to punch through defenses and incinerate the target. Unlike more elegant methods of anti-magic that deconstructs the components of a spell, the beam seeks to crush all defenses through sheer overwhelming firepower, effectively challenging Laurentia's opponents into a duel of raw arcane strength.

Drown - A steady written spell that Laurentia chants, enveloping an area in a fog of complete darkness. Those outside will see a storm that steadily thickens until nothing is visible in front of them. Those caught inside will find it impossible to sense anything outside of their immediate radius, and without a special magic resistance will have difficulty moving or breathing. Often reserved for high priority targets since it draws too much attention and even after being dispelled, leaves after-effects of lowering local luminosity.

| TALES |


Lein



Location: The Royal Ball
Interactions: Fanilly @VitaVitaAR



Lein despised balls. Pretentious one-up-man ship, ridiculous clothes, loud in all the wrong ways - everything Lein loved about the Lonely Frame, those damned dance halls did the opposite.

Yet as Lein marched alongside the knights into the castle, onlookers cheering the Knights on, he felt anticipation. Excitement. Lein beamed at the adoring crowd and made sure to acknowledge them with a flourish. For no other reason other than the fact that he paraded wearing a giant white ball gown. The outfit was complete with a jeweled fan, those fancy white gloves Lein could never quite figure out, and deftly crafted make up that made the usually boisterous Hundi unrecognizable. Apart from his terrible impression of a north Ithillin accent, Lein very convincingly passed for some exotic northerner just having a look around the Crown.

It was quite the impressive effort. Lein had spent the entire night after espousing the legend of the Griffin Riders helping the bartender clean up after the rowdy guests (forced to, actually, since Lein had been the primary spur into everyone's alcohol consumption that night), and had almost missed the news that the Knights were invited to a royal ball. A royal ball! The very first reaction Lein had was to simply blow it off. But no matter how hard he tried to convince the seniority - and no matter how hard they agreed, the decision was final. Pretentious or not, it was of royal request. All must attend, period.

Thus came another scheme. Sure, he'd play the royal game, but why not make it a tad more entertaining? In fact, he had just the person in mind to make it all work. Lein turned up in front of Cecil a few nights before and one recitation of his plan later, Lein came away with a large pack of clothes for all sorts of purposes and an overly detailed instructions list on how to don them. Lein had questions on how she could source all these so quickly - but considering Lein already owed the other archer, probably best not to pry.

Lein tugged at the corset bands, uncomfortably trying to ration his breaths. It wasn't the perfect plan. First, the gown was far heavier than Lein had anticipated, and every step in the gown felt like he was carrying full armor. Sure, he had the endurance for it - but certainly it would get grating when he would inevitably have to blow off some pompous noble. Second was that Lein was suffering from success. Whether by miracle of the makeup or Lein's naturally androgynous looks and voice, he fit a little too perfectly into the image of a haughty noble's daughter. He had been stopped on multiple occasions from joining the Knight's cohort and though it was funny the first time explaining everything to a firmly confused guard, the subsequent times got a little complicated. Perhaps Lein succeeded a bit too much in perfecting 'the honorable Dame Cteline, Heiress to the Chateau les Roseaux'.

Either way, Lein kept his head high, grooming his tail as any self-absorbed Hundi noble would and taking a good stake of the ballroom. Two things. First was the kitchen. A ball this fancy was sure to have a storage of fancy hor d'oeuvres. Second, a secluded location. A space where he could stash some clothes safely. The dress was step one. Steps two to seven was tucked discretely into the folds of the dress, and Lein needed a place to tuck them somewhere.

Lein spied the Knight-Captain from across the hall, looking not quite out of place, but not quite in her element either. He glided across the hall and approached her, a glass of fruit punch held delicately in between his fingers. "Knight-Captain Danbalion, it is quite the pleasure to meet you again. Quite the dazzling ball, wouldn't you say?" He said, a smile mixed with both gentleness and coyness.
Showing my interest here!

I have an idea for a character who uses a lantern or a paper umbrella as their weapon, and often has rain-clouds that follow them around and helps make illusions or calm panicked souls. I'll probably have to workshop that idea but I'm excited to brainstorm a couple~
Lein



Location: The Lonely Frame
Interactions: Sergio @VahkiDane Lucas @Saiyan Fleuri @Crimson Paladin



"Feh, family? The Roses? I'll drink to that." Lein returned the toast.

Lein watched Lucas as he blundered through the recounting of the battle, an amused smile etched on his face. He gave a small wave as Lucas retired from the bar. He had a mind to have a quiet night too - after all, Lein had a long day too. That was, until a pale-faced man scoffed at Lucas's retreating figure. "Griffins! Bollocks, I say. He couldn't strangle a gnat."

The Hundi swung around and stood up on the crossbar of his stool, making him barely tall enough to lean over and shove a tankard in the man's face. His speech was slightly slurred, but not enough to convey the smug taunt. "Oh really? You couldn't tell a peach from Mayon's ass if it was shoved in your face, Rovich."

Lein's voice ran up again, turning heads of the tables nearest to the countertop. "And unlike you ale-sodden bastards, I actually have something to prove it!"

From the folds of Lein's tunic, he pulled one of the feathers - the largest one he had plucked from the griffin. A pristine trophy with none of its plume scrunched up, its brilliant glossiness broken only by the splatters of blood from the battle. He had planned to sell it, but hey, if he could show this putain wrong, then it sure belonged on the walls of this establishment. Its introduction send a wave of utterance through the crowd that now gathered before it.

"That's just an eagle's plume, Hundi blaggard!" Another dissenting voice, but this time decidedly unsure.

Lein laughed, handing the plume to the bartender. His eyes shone, recognizing the chance that had landed on his lap, he jumped from stool to stool, making sure that essentially the entire bar could hear what he was yelling. "An eagle? An eagle this big, ah? You ever seen an eagle snap off a man's neck with one peck? You ever seen an eagle with paws bigger than a damn barrel lid?"

"Why, its wings must've been bigger than this bar!" The bartender remarked, carefully stroking the length of the plume and nodding in approval. Thanks for the assist, old man. Lein thought, as he turned up the boisterousness of his claims.

"If anything's 'bollocks' about this story, it's good Sir Lucas out there being humbler than a lamb! Ten men couldn't hold this monster down and I damn well would've had my head down its beak if it wasn't for our heroes tonight!"

By this point, Lein's feet was planted on the bar countertop, commanding the audience's attention as he recounted a heavily embellished version of Lucas' story - how the griffin towered over the entire camp like a dragon, how it could freeze men stiff by the sheer power of its gaze, and how two knights had heroically leapt from a tower three buildings high to catch the griffin in flight and pull its wings off with their blades. Perhaps if it wasn't for the heavy ale that had been passed through the audience, such a story wouldn't come to pass. Still, the braggart Hundi charged on through his story, crafting every intonation carefully to give just the right fantasy, the right exaggeration to string people people along right up to the moment Lucas (the version who single-handedly beat five armored bandits) plunged a blade into its eye and save the day.

Lein had nearly spilled all of his 'drink' as he had so fragrantly flailed his arms about as he told the story. "So how about it! Three cheers for the craziest bastards around! To the Griffin Riders!" Lein almost threw his cup up in his salute, and the rest of the bar roared their response, drunken both in ale and the momentum of the legend told in front of them.

Lein bathed in the sight of the bar patrons cheerily getting all the notes on the Aimlenn city song wrong, and downed the rest of his mug. Heh, family.
Lein



Location: The Lonely Frame
Interactions: Sergio @VahkiDane Lucas @Saiyan Fleuri @Crimson Paladin



The Flying Family! That was it - Lein hadn't quite pinned down where he had seen those acrobatic movements before; where else other than the great Fergusons! A gladiator, a paladin, a trapeze artist and a dog walk into a bar... heh. The goddesses must have a sense of humor, to have collected everyone here. Though as his curiosity floated around his mind, Lein stole a glance at a murky expression on Lucas. "A circus, huh? Must've been quite the sight!" Everyone had a stake they wanted buried. Lein knew better than to pry.

"So this outing... You got family in the city? Friends?"

Family, huh. Lein took a long swig, the reflection of the lone Hundi tilting backwards into the cup. For the briefest of moments, a great loneliness washed over him, a gentle wave rolling over the deck of a distant whaling ship. A shiver up his spine whispered many names, unuttered for years.

They're all going on without you.

But as the cup went down, Lein's expression betrayed nothing but playfulness one would come to expect from him. "Eh, just visiting a bunch of riff-raff I ran into way back when." Lein continued, inconspicuously slapping a warning to Sergio's legs with his tail. No ratting. "My blood-kin all bit it while I was still on The Keening, so I'm stuck here with nothing to do but sit in this taudis and spit it with a bunch of these whoresons, heh."

Lein rapped his fingers across the countertop, catching Lucas' strange fascination with them. "But this bar has the loosest pockets in Aimlenn, so who am I to complain." With a flurry of both real and ossific fingers Lein produced a couple of coins, juggling them around between the digits. It will be a while before the drunkard he swiped these from woke up anyway. "Besides! If I can learn from the Champion himself, why, it'll be all worth it!" With a flick, Lein shot a coin across the counter-top and towards Fleuri's mug.
Lein



Location: The Lonely Frame
Interactions: Sergio @VahkiDane Lucas @Saiyan Fleuri @Crimson Paladin



Lein beamed at the entrance of the two knights he had seen riding the griffins. "It's the griffin riders himself! My, I've only wandered in and I'm graced with your presence." Lein proclaimed, loud enough for much of the tavern to hear. Though Lein himself didn't slack in agility, there was something about how the white-haired trainee bounded off the tower that told him that those movements were ingrained with experience. And the sheer guts of the knights to run up to a griffin and try and tackle it to the ground? Well, not exactly the most thought out of plans, sure - but it was undeniably entertaining. Nothing to count against a stylish plan, no?

Lein pushed past the passing soldiers and planted himself firmly next to Lucas. He lifted the mug slid in front of him in thanks, though he did not drink from it. In a quick exchange of hands, the mug before Lein disappeared behind the bartender's arms and reappeared before the Hundi, filled to the brim with some kind of clear liquid. Lein winked at the bartender, who grunted disapprovingly but knew better to entangle with the strangeness of the Hundi's behavior. Lein took a big swig of his drink as if it was still the stiff alcohol and addressed Lucas with ears eager and attentive. "Now, if you'd regale me, where'd you learn to move like that? Did the Flower of the North teach you that one?"

As he scooched over to hear Lucas' tale, he kept watch on Fleuri's reaction. Unlike Lucas, whose name Lein had to badger out of a knight on their way back, the Champion of Flowers needed no such introduction. Some of the Aimlenn folk loved to talk about the hottest new champion, and the mysterious gladiator who gave up his title to serve the Roses was rich tinder for gossip indeed. Strange, though, since Lein hadn't seen much of Fleuri outside the training grounds or the Church sermons, so to have wandered all the way to the Frame... Perhaps he had taken a liking to the trainee. Let's put an eye on this one. This might get pretty interesting.
Lein



Location: The Lonely Frame
Interactions: Sergio @VahkiDane


"Woah, 'Estouls'? Where'd you pull that one from? Sounds flattering, but we're friends enough! Just 'Lein' will do."

He'd been pretty shut about his past involvements with the Estouls. Far as anyone's guess, "Lein" was just a lost Hundi who walked up to the castle one day, shot up the shooting range and demanded to be let in. Hmm. Perhaps it was the archivist. Either way, this particular knight was two steps within Lein's margins. Grumpy kid needs a bit of place.

Practically arresting Sergio and pulling him out of the courtyard, Lein pulled another couple of coins seemingly out of nowhere and flipped it around in front of the knight. "In fact why not celebrate our newfound friendship? I've got just the place."

In yet another whirlwind of diversions and impossibly narrow walkways, Lein (and supposedly Sergio, though he never bothered to check) squeezed himself back to the main roads of the city. Before them lay a squat building with an unassuming building, its purpose betrayed by the din of its occupants. The day had not yet fully melted into the horizon, vestiges of orange and blue clinging onto each other against the clouds, but still the smell of alcohol and sounds of merriment leaked in bolts and waves into the road outside. Lein's tail wagged at the noise, a dog soaking in the sound of familiarity. Not quite home, but something to the shape of it. The Lonely Frame.

'The Lonely Frame' was hardly the first name the establishment had assumed. The sign that hosted the first name 'The Castle Yard', was broken off by a knight who lost control of his horse. The next sign that humored the occasion, 'The Cracked Hoof', was subsequently burnt to crisp in a drunk darts contest. The third, "Grill and Sons", was tucked silently in a conspicuous corner in Lein's bunk. Thus with a huff the greying frame of the bartender decreed that the sign would no longer be replaced and the incorrigible bunch better find their own damned way to the tavern. Thus the empty iron girders that used to hold the signs was bestowed a name of it's own - 'The Lonely Frame'.

Sitting squarely next to the main road and leaning over the cobblestone that lead toward the western gate, The Lonely Frame attracted a swill of both the rambunctious workers looking to be knocked off their knees and knights looking for a warm drink before heading back into the castle. Off to the flank was a large countertop made from stacked barrels that overlooked a sea of creaky stools and tables, though the scrapes upon the permanently stained wooden floors of the tavern suggested the layout had been arranged and rearranged countless times for all manners of entertainment and merry brawls. With the walls lavishly furbished with trophies of battle and generously lit with a fireplace and several lanterns hanging from the rafters, the tavern was welcome to host its patrons well into the night.

Tonight, without fail, there were contests of harrumphs and boastful claims about the depth of their alcohol tolerance, pink-faced soldiers crowding over the tables and throwing tankards of beer to each other. The bushy-eyed bartender hardly reacted to the Hundi and his charge stepping in, busily ushering through overflowing cups and platters of grilled meat. A sign (a blackboard hammered somewhat shakily into a column) gleefully informed the bar patrons that of the last 43 days, none had managed to down the entirety of the 'Giant's Boot'.

"Eh, you can probably take that right?" Lein thumped Sergio's stomach, pointing to the blackboard.
Lein



Location: Old Aimlenn Backstreets
Interactions: Sergio @VahkiDane



"Thought the chapel was back in the castle?" Lein responded with an alacritous slyness.

"Tell him to go away." An unamused grumble said, unclear if 'him' was addressing Lein or Sergio.

Lein bent back down on the trapdoor, trying to put on his most welcoming smile. "Hey now, don't act all crammed now, we were just jesting. This crummy bastard's actually a dear-"

"Go away." The eye shot a dreary look at Sergio, another one at Lein, then withdrew entirely. A sound of a lock soon followed the pitter-patter of footsteps shuffling off.

"Oi! What's eating you?" Two sharp raps, but no response this time. Lein sighed and hung his head, his tail sagging in defeat. This damned morveaux. Why were kids so moody these days? Lein had to accept his losses at these times, even if he did look rather foolish. "Well, the box's out here anyhow. I'll be back for the payment later, alright?" Lein shouted one last time down at the sealed trapdoor before dusting himself off. He pushed his delivery further in-between the roots and threw some leaves over it, just in case a curious eye might snoop.

Perhaps it was for the best. Lein had strung Sergio along in case he needed someone with a bigger frame to intimidate squatters out of the courtyard, but apparently they had moved of their own accord. Hopefully of their own accord. No more need to pull more sets of eyes on his goings-on here.

"Whelp, that's bout it. Sorry to disappoint if you were looking for a show." Turning to Lein loosened one of the sleeve linings in his tunic and pushed out two coins from a hidden pocket. "Well, in case you did wanted to go somewhere around these parts - two lucky coins specially kept for you. Nothing more to it, alright?" He held it out to Sergio between his mechanical digits, his usually laid back smile a little diminished.

Lein



Location: Old Aimlenn Backstreets
Interactions: Sergio @VahkiDane



"Not often enough, really. Far better than being holed up in that pile of rocks and harrumph about," Lein furrowed his brow, trying to remember what he was assigned to do right now - "cleaning cauldrons or whatever. Gets boring breathing the same air twice."

Lein rolled the apple over his knuckles and bit into it. Instead of taking out a chunk, he instead withdrew to leave the teeth marks imprinted on it. As he walked by a curious child that watched them, Lein tossed the otherwise untarnished apple at the kid and strode on. Lein spied the guarded shifts in Sergio's stance, his curt nods betraying, perhaps, a simmering sense of nervousness. Well, carelessness was far worse, Lein supposed.

With one final turn into a tight alleyway, it was as if they had crossed across an invisible threshold. Though the crowd outside was still present, the sound of hundreds of overlapping footsteps and the shouts of merchants still leaking from the 'main road', the din soon melted into the background. Somehow, in spite of the density of humanity filling every nook that was still unclaimed, here was a place yet to be reserved by anyone.

Tucked away and squashed up against a partially dismantled castle wall, was a tiny courtyard - at least, it still tried to be one. What capacity it held a time ago was taken by buildings that had propped up at its edges, and it was hardly bigger than a couple strides across. The center was a massive tree, gnarled and roots pushing up rogue stones that used to brick the floor. It mantled a trap door at its base, frames bent but still holding integrity. It was supposed to be hidden underneath a pile of leaves and dirt, but signs of sweeping hinted at a recent relocation. A poor disguise. Nonetheless, it remained undisclosed to the incurious simply by virtue of being so far into the obscure corners of the town.

No-one outside. Hmm. Although he had promised nothing to his co-conspirators, there was still an unwritten routine that play: one that Lein had been late to. Lein pressed a knee down on the trapdoor, making sure to not allow it to accidentally fling open, then wrapped his prosthetic hand against the trapdoor twice, the bare bone knuckles making a harsh clacking sound.

A pattering footstep echoes in response, then a voice from beneath the trap-door. "You're late." A young boy's voice. Pouty, but not quite scornful.

"As always!" Lein replied cheerily, and finally set down his wooden box next to the tree with an audible thud. "But I always deliver, don't I?"

There was a shuffle as whoever was inside pressed up against the trapdoor. If one was careful to look, there was a tiny gap between the panels that showed a sliver of an eye, attentively giving an eyeful at the stranger next to the Hundi. "There's someone there?"

"Yeah I've got a," Lein looked Sergio up and down, as if he had seen the red-maned Knight for the first time in his life, "some rich gawker who thought this place was a hoot." He gave a pause, as if daring Sergio to come up with a reasonable explanation to why a sharply dressed man had followed a dirty street dweller all the way to this forgotten edge of town.
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