Any interaction with Zyrid? :(
Mimic
Member
The Table. The Door. The Chair. The Mimic.
STATUS: I am and have been busy, my apologies. 8 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 8 yrs ago
- Joined: 9 yrs ago
- Posts: 102 (0.03 / day)
- VMs: 2
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Username history
- Mimic 9 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
8 yrs ago
Current
I am and have been busy, my apologies.
9 yrs ago
Any fellow delvers around?
Bio
Name: L J R
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Location: UK
Active around 7 to 9 AM and 4 to 11 PM weekdays.
Weekends are mostly free.
Likes:
Intellect.
Food.
Writing.
Long walks on sandy beaches, decorated with the skulls of my enemies, with nothing but the screams of the dying on the breeze.
Crappy jokes.
Dislike:
Morale injustice and things.
Closed opinions.
PM for a chat :)
Do be sure to leave a visitor message on your way out!
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Location: UK
Active around 7 to 9 AM and 4 to 11 PM weekdays.
Weekends are mostly free.
Likes:
Intellect.
Food.
Writing.
Long walks on sandy beaches, decorated with the skulls of my enemies, with nothing but the screams of the dying on the breeze.
Crappy jokes.
Dislike:
Morale injustice and things.
Closed opinions.
PM for a chat :)
Do be sure to leave a visitor message on your way out!
Most Recent Posts
I don't need persuading by women, but nice to meet you anyway :)
Enjoy your stay.
Enjoy your stay.
@Dark Light@timelord1101
Zyrid smiled an understanding smile. It wasn't all together friendly, nor was it the least bit threatening. You see, he simply understood completely now. He had met many men like this one, minus of course the moon curse, on previous incursions into the material plane. It wasn't often that they instigated violence, despite their violent nature, as Zyrid always found himself to be a good mediator between aggression and survival. This one had not yet learned that Zyrid was not someone he could drag down or pipe up, neither was Zyrid a floor for him to stamp his heavy boots upon.
No, Zyrid was a great wall, endless in every directional sense. Many forces, both meager and mighty, had attempted to sway him before now, it was exceedingly rare that they accomplished this idiotic goal. A handful of such powers have found their way past his intricate stonework, but only those he found worthy. Others have battered at his side for so long and with such merciless vigor that he has had no choice but to crush them, but it seemed that this one before him would be none of those.
Status - a strange thing that these mortal societies craved. A hunger so drawn out and insubstantial that even those who see through it can stumble blindly into its adhesive hold. This Lycan sought only to stand above, to look down from a higher pedestal. There was something else though, a fondness perhaps, or at least a hint of one, twisted into an anger that few can resist - jealousy had infected this mans mind. It was small now, but infections can grow.
The man had asked Zyrid a question and so he answered, as plainly as he had asked before.
"I did not force myself through the eternal black, enduring a worlds worth of pain, to cause trouble here, no." Zyrid had a hint of confusion on his face as he responded, coupled with an eager smile, one that invited speculation of sarcasm or perhaps mockery. However, Zyrid meant nothing of the sort, he simply found the mortal mind a complex but amusing thing at times.
After a brief pause, long enough for the Lycan to compute his words but not so long that he had time to conceive an appropriate response, Zyrid took a short step forward with his right foot, following with his left, both planted beneath his shoulders. He reached into the air suddenly, a spectral aura of purple and orange flames writhing across his right hand, smoke trails falling from his fingers into the air. Zyrid brought his thumb and index finger together to pinch the breeze, an extreme tension vibrating through his muscles and tendons.
In that moment a Crystal ring, decorated with a bright golden gem at its tip, disappeared from the mantel downstairs in a small puff of smoke, and reanimated in Zyrid's grip. Still looking at the Lycan, Zyrid placed the ring upon his splayed left hand delicately, his middle finger to be specific, then gave the arm a hefty shake. Screwing his shoulders back and stretching slightly, Zyrid felt the boost in power as the ring flushed its energy upon him. Giving a small glance back to the woman, Zyrid smiled like a boy does when he thinks himself impressive, his eyes flashing blue for a moment as the ring finished its transaction, then returned his gaze to the Lycan.
"Now," He said, rolling his right fingers between his left, cupping them behind his muscular back. Zyrid looked intensely into the Lycan's eyes, piercing their facade until he was staring into the exceptional eyes of the wolf "Shall we play introductions?".
Zyrid smiled an understanding smile. It wasn't all together friendly, nor was it the least bit threatening. You see, he simply understood completely now. He had met many men like this one, minus of course the moon curse, on previous incursions into the material plane. It wasn't often that they instigated violence, despite their violent nature, as Zyrid always found himself to be a good mediator between aggression and survival. This one had not yet learned that Zyrid was not someone he could drag down or pipe up, neither was Zyrid a floor for him to stamp his heavy boots upon.
No, Zyrid was a great wall, endless in every directional sense. Many forces, both meager and mighty, had attempted to sway him before now, it was exceedingly rare that they accomplished this idiotic goal. A handful of such powers have found their way past his intricate stonework, but only those he found worthy. Others have battered at his side for so long and with such merciless vigor that he has had no choice but to crush them, but it seemed that this one before him would be none of those.
Status - a strange thing that these mortal societies craved. A hunger so drawn out and insubstantial that even those who see through it can stumble blindly into its adhesive hold. This Lycan sought only to stand above, to look down from a higher pedestal. There was something else though, a fondness perhaps, or at least a hint of one, twisted into an anger that few can resist - jealousy had infected this mans mind. It was small now, but infections can grow.
The man had asked Zyrid a question and so he answered, as plainly as he had asked before.
"I did not force myself through the eternal black, enduring a worlds worth of pain, to cause trouble here, no." Zyrid had a hint of confusion on his face as he responded, coupled with an eager smile, one that invited speculation of sarcasm or perhaps mockery. However, Zyrid meant nothing of the sort, he simply found the mortal mind a complex but amusing thing at times.
After a brief pause, long enough for the Lycan to compute his words but not so long that he had time to conceive an appropriate response, Zyrid took a short step forward with his right foot, following with his left, both planted beneath his shoulders. He reached into the air suddenly, a spectral aura of purple and orange flames writhing across his right hand, smoke trails falling from his fingers into the air. Zyrid brought his thumb and index finger together to pinch the breeze, an extreme tension vibrating through his muscles and tendons.
In that moment a Crystal ring, decorated with a bright golden gem at its tip, disappeared from the mantel downstairs in a small puff of smoke, and reanimated in Zyrid's grip. Still looking at the Lycan, Zyrid placed the ring upon his splayed left hand delicately, his middle finger to be specific, then gave the arm a hefty shake. Screwing his shoulders back and stretching slightly, Zyrid felt the boost in power as the ring flushed its energy upon him. Giving a small glance back to the woman, Zyrid smiled like a boy does when he thinks himself impressive, his eyes flashing blue for a moment as the ring finished its transaction, then returned his gaze to the Lycan.
"Now," He said, rolling his right fingers between his left, cupping them behind his muscular back. Zyrid looked intensely into the Lycan's eyes, piercing their facade until he was staring into the exceptional eyes of the wolf "Shall we play introductions?".
Gonna wait for Clays response :)
@timelord1101@Dark Light
The air of the room changed as the man in the doorway folded his arms aggressively, no sign of restraint as his face burned with a riotous passion. He looked strong and on the edge of his feet, ready for something, anything, to jump from the shadows or grab him from behind. There was a hint of something more though, something more primal than human. Before Zyrid could look any deeper a strange fey creature, visible shaken up and beaten around, walked shyly past the door-blocker in avoidance.
This place was truly diverse tonight. Zyrid took another moment to glance at the slight bulge on the back of this creature, indicating wings or perhaps an elongated spinal column. Never the less Zyrid could not help but return his attention to the one who leaned in the door way, who growled a query and whose heartbeat Zyrid heard from where he sat. Sliding his hands down his thighs and to his knees, Zyrid pulled himself onto his feet and took one meaningful step towards this man.
A slow calculated inspection followed, the grind of an adventurous life filled Zyrid's grey eyes, the image of action but also reaction. There was more to this one than there seemed, he saw it in the air about him, a florescence in magic - ancient and corrupt. The blood passing through the thick veins, circling the muscular body in powerful pulses, it wasn't pure. Beast and man, not an unheard of monstrosity, but certainly a conflict that haunted individuals to the realm of paranoia and ferocity.
Zyrid knew of the dark magic that created the first bond, though he was yet to educate himself on its spreading and eventually deterioration. Stood before him was a lycan, he could see the pointed eyes beneath the ones that looked through him now, he could visualize the snout and jagged sharp teeth. Zyrid, more than most, could understand that feeling - a lack of identification.
"Z-ry-d. My name is Zyrid, and your name?" His first statement was sent to the female, turning in his place to look at her backward profile by the window, a dim light raining over her wraith hair, summoning tinges of grey and silver. Though he asked the name of the Lycan as he turned back to face him, as he knew the females name already - Alex he believed. It was better to know names now, and plant them in his memory for the times to come.
The air of the room changed as the man in the doorway folded his arms aggressively, no sign of restraint as his face burned with a riotous passion. He looked strong and on the edge of his feet, ready for something, anything, to jump from the shadows or grab him from behind. There was a hint of something more though, something more primal than human. Before Zyrid could look any deeper a strange fey creature, visible shaken up and beaten around, walked shyly past the door-blocker in avoidance.
This place was truly diverse tonight. Zyrid took another moment to glance at the slight bulge on the back of this creature, indicating wings or perhaps an elongated spinal column. Never the less Zyrid could not help but return his attention to the one who leaned in the door way, who growled a query and whose heartbeat Zyrid heard from where he sat. Sliding his hands down his thighs and to his knees, Zyrid pulled himself onto his feet and took one meaningful step towards this man.
A slow calculated inspection followed, the grind of an adventurous life filled Zyrid's grey eyes, the image of action but also reaction. There was more to this one than there seemed, he saw it in the air about him, a florescence in magic - ancient and corrupt. The blood passing through the thick veins, circling the muscular body in powerful pulses, it wasn't pure. Beast and man, not an unheard of monstrosity, but certainly a conflict that haunted individuals to the realm of paranoia and ferocity.
Zyrid knew of the dark magic that created the first bond, though he was yet to educate himself on its spreading and eventually deterioration. Stood before him was a lycan, he could see the pointed eyes beneath the ones that looked through him now, he could visualize the snout and jagged sharp teeth. Zyrid, more than most, could understand that feeling - a lack of identification.
"Z-ry-d. My name is Zyrid, and your name?" His first statement was sent to the female, turning in his place to look at her backward profile by the window, a dim light raining over her wraith hair, summoning tinges of grey and silver. Though he asked the name of the Lycan as he turned back to face him, as he knew the females name already - Alex he believed. It was better to know names now, and plant them in his memory for the times to come.
@Alisdragon911
That's up to you, if you want to play your character off as unnaturally sad because of the venom being that of the God of Solemness then you can. If you don't want to, then you can play it off as being fully cured by the 'golden apple'.
Either way your character will be fine. :)
That's up to you, if you want to play your character off as unnaturally sad because of the venom being that of the God of Solemness then you can. If you don't want to, then you can play it off as being fully cured by the 'golden apple'.
Either way your character will be fine. :)
@Overlord24
I wasn't sure about the genuineness of the 'SHUT UP' so I tried to make light of it.
If there is anything wrong in future feel free to PM me, I'd rather not fill the OOC with our conversations :)
I wasn't sure about the genuineness of the 'SHUT UP' so I tried to make light of it.
If there is anything wrong in future feel free to PM me, I'd rather not fill the OOC with our conversations :)
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