I love it. He's such a cute boy, I'm actually getting butterflies in my stomach. I'll get a response out after work.
manapool1 Member
A wanderer who is actually lost
STATUS: Is he back? Is he going to show up for 2 days and leave forever? Who knows! 4 yrs ago
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- Joined: 11 yrs ago
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Recent Statuses
4 yrs ago
Current
Is he back? Is he going to show up for 2 days and leave forever? Who knows!
5 yrs ago
This account is dead
6 yrs ago
Gonna be real slow during finals time
6 yrs ago
Gonna get all my replies out friday. Life hit me like a brick this week
6 yrs ago
Just cleaned out my Pms. Got a little sad seeing how many old friends are gone.
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Bio
A little dude trying to write some fun things with other people. I love to talk with people (especially about different media such as movies, books, comics, art and cartoons).
Most Recent Posts
Hey, that's ok. I am patient.
Alright, I think I am going to wait to see what everyone else picks before I decide. I myself am thinking of being a Beorc, I never was too big a fan of the whole 'racial ability' concept anyway. I have a Wyvern knight character I made a while back I could toss in if we need an areal support but you usually get those a bit later game if I recall.
Personally, I am either hoping to play an Archer, priest or thief. That said, if all of these are taken, I can draft up a mage or some generic fighter because apparently, every game needs at least one character you will never restart the game for.
Personally, I am either hoping to play an Archer, priest or thief. That said, if all of these are taken, I can draft up a mage or some generic fighter because apparently, every game needs at least one character you will never restart the game for.
Well, there we are. Not my best work but it'll be a decent way to kick things off I suppose. If we have any trouble with it I can edit or even start it over if you'd prefer.
Jackson's teeth shattered against one another as he turned off his car and made his way towards the third floor of a towering tenement complex. His car was a great one, all be it busted up: sleek, small, comfortable seats and good on gas. One thing it lacked though was an air conditioner. If he was out in the sweltering heat the thing was like a greenhouse. Unfortunately, it went the other way too: and the icy ground was evidence that it was literally freezing outside. He moved slowly across the pavement and thin metal stairs to be careful not to slip on some slick ice that had concealed itself by spreading into a thin veil on the ground and eventually got to the door where he fumbled with his keys and unlocked it. The small man practically jumped inside, closing the door hard and fast as he entered.
There Jackson stood, a small and petite young man bundled up in a thick, dark green jacket lined with brown and clumped together fur on the inside and long jeans with long underwear underneath to match it. still, no matter how many layers he wore his tiny frame seemed to be defenseless against the cold, and his white teeth clashed against one another as he shivered in the room and made his way to the living room table where he placed several DVD boxes on it and sat down, wrapping himself up in a blanket so that only his feminine face and thick-framed glasses emerged.
"I didn't know what to get so I grabbed some classics: Starwars, E.T., Labyrinth, you know the deal" He squeaked out as he wiggled in his newly made cacoon.
This wasn't something all too common for these young men these days. Sure, they enjoyed watching movies together and had since they were children. Jackson still remembered the silent ride home after they went out to watch Eraserhead together, and he still sometimes wakes up from a dreaded nightmare about the lady in the radiator. Unfortunately, funds were usually low and they had long exhausted the list of decent things to watch of any streaming site they had. But when word of a snow storm came to town, Jackson's grandmothers worry for the boys left them with a fat stack of two hundred dollars added directly to his bank account, a sum of cash they hadn't planned on having and therefore free game as they had already managed to stave off the bills and starvation this month.
As Jackson finally got comfortable, laying his head against the arm of the loveseat in their living room he started to get tired. Not physically as his body never seemed to want to rest until it was time for class. It was the normal sort of tired he felt on lonely nights such as this. He had hoped that college would be a good time for him to finally meet someone. The few girls he had managed to get with never stuck around often, though. He wondered if rumors of his lacking 'performance' with Sharline had gotten out. It usually didn't matter much to him as he had other things to do (and having his best friend to cheer him up never hurt) but with the wild howl of the wind outside and the dreary navy blue sky on a barren white wonderland being all he could see, it was just the right amount of dejection to get him feeling melancholy. Again he called out to his roommate.
"Or we can just go to bed if you want. I bet they won't shut down tomorrow so we may not be the smartest thing to stay up all night" He let out in a much less energetic tone.
There Jackson stood, a small and petite young man bundled up in a thick, dark green jacket lined with brown and clumped together fur on the inside and long jeans with long underwear underneath to match it. still, no matter how many layers he wore his tiny frame seemed to be defenseless against the cold, and his white teeth clashed against one another as he shivered in the room and made his way to the living room table where he placed several DVD boxes on it and sat down, wrapping himself up in a blanket so that only his feminine face and thick-framed glasses emerged.
"I didn't know what to get so I grabbed some classics: Starwars, E.T., Labyrinth, you know the deal" He squeaked out as he wiggled in his newly made cacoon.
This wasn't something all too common for these young men these days. Sure, they enjoyed watching movies together and had since they were children. Jackson still remembered the silent ride home after they went out to watch Eraserhead together, and he still sometimes wakes up from a dreaded nightmare about the lady in the radiator. Unfortunately, funds were usually low and they had long exhausted the list of decent things to watch of any streaming site they had. But when word of a snow storm came to town, Jackson's grandmothers worry for the boys left them with a fat stack of two hundred dollars added directly to his bank account, a sum of cash they hadn't planned on having and therefore free game as they had already managed to stave off the bills and starvation this month.
As Jackson finally got comfortable, laying his head against the arm of the loveseat in their living room he started to get tired. Not physically as his body never seemed to want to rest until it was time for class. It was the normal sort of tired he felt on lonely nights such as this. He had hoped that college would be a good time for him to finally meet someone. The few girls he had managed to get with never stuck around often, though. He wondered if rumors of his lacking 'performance' with Sharline had gotten out. It usually didn't matter much to him as he had other things to do (and having his best friend to cheer him up never hurt) but with the wild howl of the wind outside and the dreary navy blue sky on a barren white wonderland being all he could see, it was just the right amount of dejection to get him feeling melancholy. Again he called out to his roommate.
"Or we can just go to bed if you want. I bet they won't shut down tomorrow so we may not be the smartest thing to stay up all night" He let out in a much less energetic tone.
Sure!
Alright, I was getting started when I realized I didn't ask you what kind of things you like in a guy! Go ahead and tell me!
The spray of salty foam from the sea crashed against the rocky coast of the Iron isle's wicked and twisting coast, splashing high into the sky before carefully trickling down in a soothing mist as it got swept back into the sea by the gentle autumn breeze. here on the harsh banks in the winding coast was where one of the many port towns lay: baskveil. Wooden docks reaching out into the teal water and stood on willowy legs that kept them the walkways from the crashing waters. Not a single port was open, as tonight was the return of a great lot of warriors from the nearby raid of a small town off the coast of the mainland. The heroes had returned home with meats from the fat cows and goats they slaughtered, and had managed to obtain an assortment of spiced wines and nordic meads that they happily shared among the on-goers in the tavern, knowing that the trade of fine indigo dyes and beautiful textiles they had traded for their rooms and whores was more than enough to pay for any drinks that would have come their way.
Within the tavern the booming voices of mirthful men and giggling women filled the room. Inside the blaring fire sat firmly in the center of an open area, a whole pig spitroasting over top, being spun by a small young man too young for the more risque actions of the older raiders. Though they had removed their heavy cuirass' and shirts of mail and discarded them in their rooms, the metal helmets they wore sat beside the folks and their blades and boots where still strapped to them. The group had just begun to sing when another man stepped in, wearing a green cloak over his body and a dark-eyed glare on his face as he made his way to a seat.
Always ragged and bruised was old Bojak brave
scrapped his whole life since he were a knave
one day his father died and a sword he were gave
so Bojak went fighting a got crowned the brave
As they finished their song a loud roar of amusement burst through the air and everyone in the room, even the dark-eyed man rose a tankard to the air and drank. A large man in the crowd, one with a long, greying beard that was braided and covered with froth from his mead, rose as he noticed the new man in the tavern. A sneering smile came to his face as he sat his barrel-chested body down by the smaller boy. The smell of alchohol on his breath and the dizzy movements of the man came with his slurred words.
"My boy, you missed the chance of a lifetime. The town was defenseless, easy pickings, and look here" he blurted out, and everyone in the room turned to him as he unsheathed a blade from it's scabbard and revealed a long and slender blade that arched in it's back the way all sabres do. It's grip was covered in a soft black leather and the gaurd was linked to the smooth pummel by a long sheet of steel that gaurded the hand. The large man, even in his drunken stupor, held the blade with care.
"It's the burgomaster's very own blade. Even has a name: 'hearteater'. Or so said the burgomaster when he threatened to use it against me. He had a lousy arm for swords, too slow" he proclaimed with pride and bravado as the others looked on and gawked.
"I'd offer to let you touch it, but you look like a theif more than you do a warrior" He continued, causing chuckles in the crowd.
The smaller man didn't look his way, but moved to the side of his cloak and lifted in to reveal his own sheathed weapon -something particularly common in these parts- and gently lifted it to show it's shinning metal. Steel. His blade was not as long as the other mans. It was an arming sword, broad and sturdy but no more than two daggers tall.
"I don't name pieces of metal" he responded with a short sigh.
The other man seemed a bit surprised as he saw the weapon. He hadn't expected anyone else to have one with them, Steel blades were a rare sight in the Iron isle. What few they got between farm raids and small skirmishes often got lost at sea, in another conflict or were held up in someone's home to be properly tempered until the time came to fight. To see a young man with one almost made him mad. His voice was much less snarky now, instead curious. He poured the boy another glass of wine as he asked his question.
"When did you get that?"
"Long time ago. Won it from an old man in a tavern who tried his luck in a duel" Came a reply with a chuckle following.
To even the drunken men struggling to keep upright in their seats it was obvious this was a farce. The older man came closer to his face with a scowl now and spoke in a harsher tone.
"Is that a threat little, Milk drinker? Want to see how good your steel is against mine?" He let out in a spiteful hiss.
A pause filled the room as the smaller man downed his drink and stood, drawing his blade. The tavern girls took the cue and left the room and so did many of the men too drunk and marry to see a man die. The older man glared with a sneer, gauging the look on the boy. Suddenly he burst into a laugh, sitting back down.
"Boy! I take it back, you're not a milk drinker at all! By the huntress you've got more stones than half the men under my banner. I tell you what, you come with me on my next raid, we'll get you a sword twice the size of your little dagger there. What do you say?" He shouted aloud in a jolly tone under his wheezing chortle.
The other boy smiled and sheathed his blade and he nodded his head to the man's idea as he calmly sipped on his drink. He cleared his throat before he spoke, making sure his voice was loud enough for the whole room to clear.
"perhaps another time, sir. I'm currently looking to stay here, making wages off of odd jobs if you're in need of something of the sort, however" He responded with a clearity to his low and honeyed voice that came out in a very proud way.
The old man shook his head and the drinking went on as usual. This new man introduced himself as Henryk and they chatted idolly as they drank.
Within the tavern the booming voices of mirthful men and giggling women filled the room. Inside the blaring fire sat firmly in the center of an open area, a whole pig spitroasting over top, being spun by a small young man too young for the more risque actions of the older raiders. Though they had removed their heavy cuirass' and shirts of mail and discarded them in their rooms, the metal helmets they wore sat beside the folks and their blades and boots where still strapped to them. The group had just begun to sing when another man stepped in, wearing a green cloak over his body and a dark-eyed glare on his face as he made his way to a seat.
Always ragged and bruised was old Bojak brave
scrapped his whole life since he were a knave
one day his father died and a sword he were gave
so Bojak went fighting a got crowned the brave
As they finished their song a loud roar of amusement burst through the air and everyone in the room, even the dark-eyed man rose a tankard to the air and drank. A large man in the crowd, one with a long, greying beard that was braided and covered with froth from his mead, rose as he noticed the new man in the tavern. A sneering smile came to his face as he sat his barrel-chested body down by the smaller boy. The smell of alchohol on his breath and the dizzy movements of the man came with his slurred words.
"My boy, you missed the chance of a lifetime. The town was defenseless, easy pickings, and look here" he blurted out, and everyone in the room turned to him as he unsheathed a blade from it's scabbard and revealed a long and slender blade that arched in it's back the way all sabres do. It's grip was covered in a soft black leather and the gaurd was linked to the smooth pummel by a long sheet of steel that gaurded the hand. The large man, even in his drunken stupor, held the blade with care.
"It's the burgomaster's very own blade. Even has a name: 'hearteater'. Or so said the burgomaster when he threatened to use it against me. He had a lousy arm for swords, too slow" he proclaimed with pride and bravado as the others looked on and gawked.
"I'd offer to let you touch it, but you look like a theif more than you do a warrior" He continued, causing chuckles in the crowd.
The smaller man didn't look his way, but moved to the side of his cloak and lifted in to reveal his own sheathed weapon -something particularly common in these parts- and gently lifted it to show it's shinning metal. Steel. His blade was not as long as the other mans. It was an arming sword, broad and sturdy but no more than two daggers tall.
"I don't name pieces of metal" he responded with a short sigh.
The other man seemed a bit surprised as he saw the weapon. He hadn't expected anyone else to have one with them, Steel blades were a rare sight in the Iron isle. What few they got between farm raids and small skirmishes often got lost at sea, in another conflict or were held up in someone's home to be properly tempered until the time came to fight. To see a young man with one almost made him mad. His voice was much less snarky now, instead curious. He poured the boy another glass of wine as he asked his question.
"When did you get that?"
"Long time ago. Won it from an old man in a tavern who tried his luck in a duel" Came a reply with a chuckle following.
To even the drunken men struggling to keep upright in their seats it was obvious this was a farce. The older man came closer to his face with a scowl now and spoke in a harsher tone.
"Is that a threat little, Milk drinker? Want to see how good your steel is against mine?" He let out in a spiteful hiss.
A pause filled the room as the smaller man downed his drink and stood, drawing his blade. The tavern girls took the cue and left the room and so did many of the men too drunk and marry to see a man die. The older man glared with a sneer, gauging the look on the boy. Suddenly he burst into a laugh, sitting back down.
"Boy! I take it back, you're not a milk drinker at all! By the huntress you've got more stones than half the men under my banner. I tell you what, you come with me on my next raid, we'll get you a sword twice the size of your little dagger there. What do you say?" He shouted aloud in a jolly tone under his wheezing chortle.
The other boy smiled and sheathed his blade and he nodded his head to the man's idea as he calmly sipped on his drink. He cleared his throat before he spoke, making sure his voice was loud enough for the whole room to clear.
"perhaps another time, sir. I'm currently looking to stay here, making wages off of odd jobs if you're in need of something of the sort, however" He responded with a clearity to his low and honeyed voice that came out in a very proud way.
The old man shook his head and the drinking went on as usual. This new man introduced himself as Henryk and they chatted idolly as they drank.
Probably some typos in there but I am pooped
b
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