My character has a secondary in medical as well. ;P
Also, your post seems to be a bit cut off at the end there...
Also, your post seems to be a bit cut off at the end there...
- Last Seen: 3 mos ago
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 673 (0.17 / day)
- VMs: 2
-
Username history
- Drache 11 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
Sotiras,
SilverShades,
Vampiretwilight,
deegee,
Foster,
PuffPeace,
CloseEnough,
blindwoofer,
Nallore,
Deadlyrose9641
Status
Recent Statuses
4 mos ago
Current
Hurricane Party Time!
3
likes
11 mos ago
One of my D&D campaigns turns 25 years old this month.
10
likes
Bio
It took me 10 years to finally fill one of these out, but I finally did it. Welcome, stranger.
I'm Drache. I'm a millenial leftist living in the US deep south. I'm a queer polyamorous kinkster. You can find me at PRIDE, at Ren Fair, at the local farmer's market, and the monthly dark party. I play D&D, I play Skyrim, and I play with gags and blindfolds. I'm your elder femdom, even though my bones hurt.
During the day I'm an emergency animal medical professional with 20 years in the field. On my off time I'm a dog show enthusiast, a karaoke singer, a baker, and a volunteer wildlife rehabilitator. I'm a collector of rare houseplants, of rescued exotic birds, of books, of tattoos. I'm the most feral spouse with the most domestic skills. I'm perpetually exhausted but endlessly impulsive.
If you're looking for a partner to share in your high fantasy, in your dark themes, in your deranged kinky monsterfucking, send me a PM.
What else is there to say?
Most Recent Posts
Sorry folks. My post was terribly paltry compared to y'alls.
The drab-painted jeep had been waiting for her at the airport, the matching field trailer attached to the back. Knowing that if the equipment survived the job on Isla Nublar it would belong to her was little comfort to someone who had just spent 18 hours in the air after a three week expedition into the blistering Outback.
"Least I didna get too used to hot showers and cold A/C then, aye? This thing's a beaut. Better not cark it when I'm trying to outrun a pack a rapto's." The valet who was waiting by the Jeep clearly didn't speak Australian. Rubbing her hands through her short-cropped black hair, the tattooed Biologist opened the driver's side door and hopped in. Everything was crisp and new. She almost felt bad, her clothes and her hiking bag well-worn and grubby by comparison. Almost.
It took her longer to get down to the docks than she might have preferred, not because she found it difficult to drive through crowded streets where feral chickens scurried out of the way of her new tires, but because she needed time to make a private call. Sara Harding's voice sounded tinny and distorted over the satellite phone.
"...I hope you know what you're doing, Max. This project has killed more people than I like to think about."
Maxine turned a tight corner and was cut off by a farm truck and spent a few minutes trading honks and middle fingers with the other driver before continuing.
"I've had a gander at the notes you sent me. Cheers for that, but the way. I'm pretty sure I can handle treating these animals if it comes to it. Masrani sent me all the lab's info on every disease and injury they ever worked on. Loads of proper case studies and diagrams. Wu was a ratbag sure enough but he knew his work."
Stuffed in Maxine's bag was a copy of the manifest of species currently roaming the new park, photos, pharmacology information based on drugs they'd tried to treat the animals with, medical references ranges for all the basic laboratory analysis, detailed dietary and behavioural information, but in a moment of second-guessing her decision she'd phoned the one person she could think of who could give her some perspective on the whole fiasco. Looking back, Max wasn't sure she'd ever gotten off the phone with the behaviourist since she'd first been held up by Masrani reps on the tarmac in Oz. She'd only met the older woman briefly years ago but their shared concern had brought them together quickly. Sara had sent her a packet of info overnight that included a brochure and other information from the original park and a personal log from Sara's experience with Masrani's predecessor.
"It's not the animals you have to worry about...as much..." Sara argued, and half-way around the planet Maxine could hear real worry in her voice, "it's those people. You can't trust them. Don't. They'll get you killed in order to protect their corporate interests. All they care about is what money they can make."
She'd seen the personnel files on those who were supposed to be joining them. Most of them were little more than a photo and a name. Max reached down to run a finger along the short barrel of the revolver holstered under her khakis. She'd put it on as soon as her luggage cleared customs.
"Well...I'm not here for their secrets. I'm here for the animals and that's that. They didn't ask to be dragged sixty-five million years through time and cramped on a tiny island."
There was a moment of silence and the docks finally came into view. The company's ferry was easy to spot, even without the workers waving her down to the loading ramp.
"I'm here."
"Good luck, Max. Be careful."
"I will. We'll share a pair 'o stubbies when I'm done here."
Max shoved the phone into her back and with a bunch of salty bitching through the open window of her new Jeep, managed to get the thing situated on the ferry. Parked too close to the railing to open the door, she simply hoisted herself out of the window and stomped along the roof until she could hop down. She was wearing a black tank top that revealed full sleeves of tattoos down her arms and khaki cargo pants that were worn where they settled around her scuffed hiking boots. She was tall but athletic, the faint crinkle of laugh lines in her face those of someone who'd spent a lot of time in the bush.
"Least I didna get too used to hot showers and cold A/C then, aye? This thing's a beaut. Better not cark it when I'm trying to outrun a pack a rapto's." The valet who was waiting by the Jeep clearly didn't speak Australian. Rubbing her hands through her short-cropped black hair, the tattooed Biologist opened the driver's side door and hopped in. Everything was crisp and new. She almost felt bad, her clothes and her hiking bag well-worn and grubby by comparison. Almost.
It took her longer to get down to the docks than she might have preferred, not because she found it difficult to drive through crowded streets where feral chickens scurried out of the way of her new tires, but because she needed time to make a private call. Sara Harding's voice sounded tinny and distorted over the satellite phone.
"...I hope you know what you're doing, Max. This project has killed more people than I like to think about."
Maxine turned a tight corner and was cut off by a farm truck and spent a few minutes trading honks and middle fingers with the other driver before continuing.
"I've had a gander at the notes you sent me. Cheers for that, but the way. I'm pretty sure I can handle treating these animals if it comes to it. Masrani sent me all the lab's info on every disease and injury they ever worked on. Loads of proper case studies and diagrams. Wu was a ratbag sure enough but he knew his work."
Stuffed in Maxine's bag was a copy of the manifest of species currently roaming the new park, photos, pharmacology information based on drugs they'd tried to treat the animals with, medical references ranges for all the basic laboratory analysis, detailed dietary and behavioural information, but in a moment of second-guessing her decision she'd phoned the one person she could think of who could give her some perspective on the whole fiasco. Looking back, Max wasn't sure she'd ever gotten off the phone with the behaviourist since she'd first been held up by Masrani reps on the tarmac in Oz. She'd only met the older woman briefly years ago but their shared concern had brought them together quickly. Sara had sent her a packet of info overnight that included a brochure and other information from the original park and a personal log from Sara's experience with Masrani's predecessor.
"It's not the animals you have to worry about...as much..." Sara argued, and half-way around the planet Maxine could hear real worry in her voice, "it's those people. You can't trust them. Don't. They'll get you killed in order to protect their corporate interests. All they care about is what money they can make."
She'd seen the personnel files on those who were supposed to be joining them. Most of them were little more than a photo and a name. Max reached down to run a finger along the short barrel of the revolver holstered under her khakis. She'd put it on as soon as her luggage cleared customs.
"Well...I'm not here for their secrets. I'm here for the animals and that's that. They didn't ask to be dragged sixty-five million years through time and cramped on a tiny island."
There was a moment of silence and the docks finally came into view. The company's ferry was easy to spot, even without the workers waving her down to the loading ramp.
"I'm here."
"Good luck, Max. Be careful."
"I will. We'll share a pair 'o stubbies when I'm done here."
Max shoved the phone into her back and with a bunch of salty bitching through the open window of her new Jeep, managed to get the thing situated on the ferry. Parked too close to the railing to open the door, she simply hoisted herself out of the window and stomped along the roof until she could hop down. She was wearing a black tank top that revealed full sleeves of tattoos down her arms and khaki cargo pants that were worn where they settled around her scuffed hiking boots. She was tall but athletic, the faint crinkle of laugh lines in her face those of someone who'd spent a lot of time in the bush.
As no one else seemed quite as interested in the particulars, it was the dragonkin who reached out to pluck the card off the table, opalescent eyes peering down her snout at the grinning visage before twisting it in her clawed fingers to show the others if they had any interest. After that, unless Gladios demanded it back, it went into her bag.
--
Having never been schooled in the art of riding a horse, Rhindani was perhaps the worst off when it came to making good time. Thankfully the beast seemed rather tolerant, throwing its dark mane only occasionally when the Healer chanced to dig her toes too roughly in its flanks. Not being shaped for proper boots, there was little to protect the poor creature. Eventually it seemed easier on everyone if she simply ponied her animal to someone else's saddle and simply hold on. The hard riding was not comfortable, but Rhindani did find it easier to keep her balance when she let her wings out on either side to steady herself.
The gold lizardwoman did not speak much, finding little in common with the scaleless faces in their small group, and when she did she was polite but not very forthcoming.
Once at the manor it seemed that she would be alone in her preference to avoid an assault, at least without attempting to get more information first. However, as she wasn't among those who'd brought blades she kept her own counsel and meditated on her devotion to Draconis Rex.
--
Having never been schooled in the art of riding a horse, Rhindani was perhaps the worst off when it came to making good time. Thankfully the beast seemed rather tolerant, throwing its dark mane only occasionally when the Healer chanced to dig her toes too roughly in its flanks. Not being shaped for proper boots, there was little to protect the poor creature. Eventually it seemed easier on everyone if she simply ponied her animal to someone else's saddle and simply hold on. The hard riding was not comfortable, but Rhindani did find it easier to keep her balance when she let her wings out on either side to steady herself.
The gold lizardwoman did not speak much, finding little in common with the scaleless faces in their small group, and when she did she was polite but not very forthcoming.
Once at the manor it seemed that she would be alone in her preference to avoid an assault, at least without attempting to get more information first. However, as she wasn't among those who'd brought blades she kept her own counsel and meditated on her devotion to Draconis Rex.
There was little choice but to follow along, her snout and bright eyes turned upwards as she couldn't help but compare the architecture to what she was used to. The Keep was large, but not so large as what could be found at The Roost. The quietude was somewhat unnerving and the dragonkin was well aware of the faint clicking her claws made on the floor. Thankfully it was vastly overpowered by the clunking of boots and armour. Humans were noisy.
Taking her time to join the huddle, the gold-scaled female eyed several of the other maps stretched across the tables. She'd been in the city for a while but her work had made it difficult to get out an explore. Well, that and the odd looks she'd gotten had stifled her curiousity some.
Listening to Gladios lay their task out, Rhindani watched the rest of those gathered. It didn't seem that diplomacy would be a priority for most of them, which seemed to define her own role more clearly. She'd be the one to patch them up if things ended in bloodshed. Well, that was fine.
Her nostrils flared somewhat at what, to her, was a high wage. Avarice reared it's head. What she couldn't do with that much coin! She had to force it back down. Anything that didn't go towards her immediate needs would be donated to the Church, as it should be.
"If I may," she began, her focus returning to Gladios, meeting his eyes. But then they were all interrupted by the appearance of a dwarf who seemed rather inebriated. Rhindani's long tail gave an amused swish and she tried to hide a grin. Abet reminded her of someone.
"As I was saying, there are many forms of extortion. How exactly are the victims being targeted? Are they being waylaid on the roads or...? If there is any information on their activities in addition to their location that might be helpful." Her voice was low for a woman's and had a slightly gravely quality. In addition, her speech was foreign, Common not her native tongue.
"Also, it seems I will require a horse." Ah, if only her wings would ever carry her. She asked not because she expected one to be provided, only that she would likely need assistance, or at least advice, with procuring one. She didn't fancy having to run alongside the whole way, though perhaps she could have managed it.
Taking her time to join the huddle, the gold-scaled female eyed several of the other maps stretched across the tables. She'd been in the city for a while but her work had made it difficult to get out an explore. Well, that and the odd looks she'd gotten had stifled her curiousity some.
Listening to Gladios lay their task out, Rhindani watched the rest of those gathered. It didn't seem that diplomacy would be a priority for most of them, which seemed to define her own role more clearly. She'd be the one to patch them up if things ended in bloodshed. Well, that was fine.
Her nostrils flared somewhat at what, to her, was a high wage. Avarice reared it's head. What she couldn't do with that much coin! She had to force it back down. Anything that didn't go towards her immediate needs would be donated to the Church, as it should be.
"If I may," she began, her focus returning to Gladios, meeting his eyes. But then they were all interrupted by the appearance of a dwarf who seemed rather inebriated. Rhindani's long tail gave an amused swish and she tried to hide a grin. Abet reminded her of someone.
"As I was saying, there are many forms of extortion. How exactly are the victims being targeted? Are they being waylaid on the roads or...? If there is any information on their activities in addition to their location that might be helpful." Her voice was low for a woman's and had a slightly gravely quality. In addition, her speech was foreign, Common not her native tongue.
"Also, it seems I will require a horse." Ah, if only her wings would ever carry her. She asked not because she expected one to be provided, only that she would likely need assistance, or at least advice, with procuring one. She didn't fancy having to run alongside the whole way, though perhaps she could have managed it.
Whatever Nicholas' feelings, he was hardly as out of place as the tall but slender figure who followed just behind, content to let the men go first. At six feet tall the dragonkin was of a height with most human men but the pale talons treading softly across the smooth floor were far from human. A simple blue hooded shawl concealed much of the creature's face, draping elegantly over a plain but well-kept green dress in the style that of those who were born and lived in the Dragonlands. The only flourish to her garments came in the form of a golden pin in her shawl over her left collarbone. It was an item she reached for with her scaled hand, fingertips resting against its familiar shape as though it imparted a small measure of comfort.
Unlike the rest of them, Rhindani carried no sword, no armour, only a large and well-used leather satchel against her hip. Her own introduction would sound quite unimpressive coming after titles and boasting oaths. When it was her turn, Rhindani lifted both hands to the soft edges of her hood and pulled it back, revealing a reptilian face of dull golden scales. She had no hair, only horns and a frilled crest that drew a line down the back of her neck.
"I'm Rhindani...." Her hands came back down to clasp together quietly in her lap. "...from Metal City and the Church of Draconis Rex."
She did not bow, or curtsy, or kneel, though she gave a polite incline of her head. There was motion down her back, a folded shape of wings hidden under the long shawl. It was only then that she glanced over the rest of them better. She didn't consider herself much of an adventurer but the invitation had been extended to her all the same.
Unlike the rest of them, Rhindani carried no sword, no armour, only a large and well-used leather satchel against her hip. Her own introduction would sound quite unimpressive coming after titles and boasting oaths. When it was her turn, Rhindani lifted both hands to the soft edges of her hood and pulled it back, revealing a reptilian face of dull golden scales. She had no hair, only horns and a frilled crest that drew a line down the back of her neck.
"I'm Rhindani...." Her hands came back down to clasp together quietly in her lap. "...from Metal City and the Church of Draconis Rex."
She did not bow, or curtsy, or kneel, though she gave a polite incline of her head. There was motion down her back, a folded shape of wings hidden under the long shawl. It was only then that she glanced over the rest of them better. She didn't consider herself much of an adventurer but the invitation had been extended to her all the same.
Name: Rhindani
Race: Lizardfolk (Gold)
Age: Young adult, birthday unknown
Weapon: Claws/Teeth
Armor: Natural scales only
Alignment: Lawful Good
Religion: Draconis Rex (Gold Aspect)
Magical Ability: Divine spellcasting
Languages: Draconic (native), Common, Hand Sign (basic)
Other skills: Herbalism, Cooking, Sewing, Music (fiddle)
Special: Wings (gliding only)
History: Rhin's background is something of a mystery, even to her. Brief and confusing memories are all that remain to remind her of her youngest years, her only trinket a golden talisman pinned to her smock. As a small child she was discovered on Metallic Dragon Lands, lost and wandering very near to the Great Chasm. It was lucky for her that mithril-scaled Melanor was on patrol, as most other dragons would have found little reason to take interest in a mere dragonkin infant.
Brought to The Roost, it was the great king Aelinor who decided Rhindani's fate. All she can remember of that illustrious but brief meeting with the great golden wyrm was how he seemed to peer at her, his stare thoughtful but stern over a chinfull of long whiskers. It was a gaze that was terrifying to one so small and confused.
Since that time, Rhindani has been a ward of the Church of Draconis Rex, raised by a kindly but elderly cleric named Ki'Nem in the ways of the Gold Aspect. A quiet and pensive but perceptive child, Rhindani took quickly to the arts of Healing, her talents growing from the use of herbs and traditional medicines to asking the Blessings of the Golden Aspect to address greater maladies in those who seek the services of the Church. In addition to working in the infirmary, her years have been filled with other humble domestic toils such as sewing and cooking. What little free time can be had in the life of a vestal was spent with her friend and confidante, a copper lizardfolk female named Mahva who is as impulsive as she is deaf. It is because of Mahva that part of Rhin's daily exercise includes using her wings, because according to the young copper "there's no point in being born with wings if'n all you're gonna do is hide them under a robe until they shrivel up."
For the last three years Rhindani has been living in a small Church in the People's Conglomerate. The move away from the beauty and comfort of Metal City and the grand Church of Draconis Rex to a land of humans surprised those who knew her but wasn't exactly a shock to those who knew her best. Rhin wasn't without many doubts, but something wordless and nameless urged her to take her skills, little as they might be, to places unknown (at least to herself). Perhaps a little adventure would settle the coil of longing that comes with not knowing who you really are or where you came from.
Personality and Traits: Rhin has always been quiet and somewhat reserved, but ultimately kind and empathetic. That's not to say she is soft at heart, however, because tending to the sick and the dying instills and requires a certain amount of strength that has nothing to do with being bullheaded or the hefting of a sword. She prefers tasks that don't require much conversation, her favourite chores in the Church being tending the herb and kitchen gardens or cooking, or even sewing (though she prefers to do so outside when possible). She enjoys reading, drawing and listening to music, her prized possession a silverwood fiddle that took ten years to save up for and another ten to learn how to play with any skill. Rhindani hopes to one day discover her own origins, though long ago exhausted what little information she had to go on. She suspects that the knowledge will help her understand herself better, and explain some of her shortcomings, primarily with regards to a delayed advance in the abilities that come from worship and the strange pale opalescent gold colour of her scales that do not quite match with the beautiful rich vibrance of her fellow Gold dragonkin. She continues to pray to Draconis Rex about the former, and rubs ash soap on her skin to mute the latter. So far, the dragon God has been silent on the matter.
Race: Lizardfolk (Gold)
Age: Young adult, birthday unknown
Weapon: Claws/Teeth
Armor: Natural scales only
Alignment: Lawful Good
Religion: Draconis Rex (Gold Aspect)
Magical Ability: Divine spellcasting
Languages: Draconic (native), Common, Hand Sign (basic)
Other skills: Herbalism, Cooking, Sewing, Music (fiddle)
Special: Wings (gliding only)
History: Rhin's background is something of a mystery, even to her. Brief and confusing memories are all that remain to remind her of her youngest years, her only trinket a golden talisman pinned to her smock. As a small child she was discovered on Metallic Dragon Lands, lost and wandering very near to the Great Chasm. It was lucky for her that mithril-scaled Melanor was on patrol, as most other dragons would have found little reason to take interest in a mere dragonkin infant.
Brought to The Roost, it was the great king Aelinor who decided Rhindani's fate. All she can remember of that illustrious but brief meeting with the great golden wyrm was how he seemed to peer at her, his stare thoughtful but stern over a chinfull of long whiskers. It was a gaze that was terrifying to one so small and confused.
Since that time, Rhindani has been a ward of the Church of Draconis Rex, raised by a kindly but elderly cleric named Ki'Nem in the ways of the Gold Aspect. A quiet and pensive but perceptive child, Rhindani took quickly to the arts of Healing, her talents growing from the use of herbs and traditional medicines to asking the Blessings of the Golden Aspect to address greater maladies in those who seek the services of the Church. In addition to working in the infirmary, her years have been filled with other humble domestic toils such as sewing and cooking. What little free time can be had in the life of a vestal was spent with her friend and confidante, a copper lizardfolk female named Mahva who is as impulsive as she is deaf. It is because of Mahva that part of Rhin's daily exercise includes using her wings, because according to the young copper "there's no point in being born with wings if'n all you're gonna do is hide them under a robe until they shrivel up."
For the last three years Rhindani has been living in a small Church in the People's Conglomerate. The move away from the beauty and comfort of Metal City and the grand Church of Draconis Rex to a land of humans surprised those who knew her but wasn't exactly a shock to those who knew her best. Rhin wasn't without many doubts, but something wordless and nameless urged her to take her skills, little as they might be, to places unknown (at least to herself). Perhaps a little adventure would settle the coil of longing that comes with not knowing who you really are or where you came from.
Personality and Traits: Rhin has always been quiet and somewhat reserved, but ultimately kind and empathetic. That's not to say she is soft at heart, however, because tending to the sick and the dying instills and requires a certain amount of strength that has nothing to do with being bullheaded or the hefting of a sword. She prefers tasks that don't require much conversation, her favourite chores in the Church being tending the herb and kitchen gardens or cooking, or even sewing (though she prefers to do so outside when possible). She enjoys reading, drawing and listening to music, her prized possession a silverwood fiddle that took ten years to save up for and another ten to learn how to play with any skill. Rhindani hopes to one day discover her own origins, though long ago exhausted what little information she had to go on. She suspects that the knowledge will help her understand herself better, and explain some of her shortcomings, primarily with regards to a delayed advance in the abilities that come from worship and the strange pale opalescent gold colour of her scales that do not quite match with the beautiful rich vibrance of her fellow Gold dragonkin. She continues to pray to Draconis Rex about the former, and rubs ash soap on her skin to mute the latter. So far, the dragon God has been silent on the matter.
I'm afraid my posts are probably going to seem obnoxiously large compared to everyone elses as I am very used to forum RP. I also don't know that I can get out of the habit of putting everything in past tense. Sorry guys. :/
@The Whacko I love your char already.
© 2007-2024