Noxious

o.O;

Long ago an idea happened upon a great man. A great idea. He began collecting suitable soldiers to carry out his idea. They strived for only humor, folly, great writing and trolling. They were artful, crafty. The webbed the internet so hard that they became vain in their power. They became reckless and unappreciative of the goodness that surrounded them.

These times were a cacophony of spamfics and original ideas. Gifs of glitter and putting people in their places with million dollar words and a sly turn of phrase. The internet's best found it's way into the walls of spam and we rejoiced. We gorged on the beauty.

But then it happened. The darkness came when a great wind hurled itself across the forum and blew apart our past. Our cred. Our original join dates. We have no way of knowing who was friends with which mods. We have no way of knowing how we would drag ourselves through this darkened pit of newbie debauchery and unrecognizable vag pics. They come here in throngs. These people. Are they cool? How can I know? There are no threads dedicated to their mastery linked in their signatures.

They consume the pages and turn the once jovial and lackadaisical friends into twitching haters. I blame them not. I twitch at the youths. I hate the unchecked use of your and you're. I feel your pain. But we shall wait. We shall hide in the recess of Skype and dote on your idiocy without providing any encouragment. We will rise again.

The Silver Leaves; A Northern Crusade.

Lin

USERNAME: Noxious (Nox is fine)

NAME: Linwë “Lin” Anwamanë
AGE: unknown, youthful; the concept of time in limitation of years is lost upon her people.
ARCHTYPE: Savage Berserker
PERSONALITY:

To say anything about her personality on a whole it must be understood that at the base of it all she is unforgivably apathetic to human nature, bordering on a chaotic destructionism. Beyond this she has been ingrained with personality traits common to her people; she is uncomplaining of her surroundings, even though ‘city life’ incited an unflinching disgust and she finds little to no redeemable qualities in civilization or the civilized. She covets a pack mentality that offers a loyalty to those she views as her own. Believes life is cyclical and there is no need to apologize for wrongs past done just as there is need to feel guilt when stealing air from the sky. It should never be said that she is kind, nor cruel, though she leans more closely towards the first in one on one interaction and more closely to the latter in social interactions. When in the company of strangers her mannerisms are tense and highly alert, even more so within city limits. Her interactions with others are usually forced; she saw little merit in conversation, though running, tracking, hunting, fighting, killing brought momentary glimpses of life to eyes otherwise bored of the world crumbling around her.

WEAPONS:

• Wild’Har Twin Khopeshs- an artistic sublimation of war, crafted of Crys Grove stone so delicately refined that they fail to reflect light so while in movement it almost has the appearance of invisibility. With use the material is said to drink the blood spilled and slowly takes on a hellish red color. Like a standard Khopesh they are both slightly curved. One crooks tightly creating a hook while the other less severely to allow easy access to the serrated outer edge, like a saw blade.
• Shield-She carries a sturdy, yet unglamorous shield upon her back which can be exchanged with one of the Khopesh, but also helps deflect unseen attacks from behind.

ABILITIES:

• Beast Within; an ability both inherited, magical and practiced. Her mind alters its process to an animalistic frequency. Heightened hearing, smell, eyesight, durability and pain tolerance. Her muscles tighten as movements become more instinctual and forceful. Her posture also reflects a crouching to protect sensitive areas. The drawbacks are an expelling of human self. She becomes something else, something that could be called cruel. Something vicious to be sure. A child of Kartan possessed with more chaos than any natural creature. Sometimes the animal refuses to relinquish control for a period and when she does return it is to an over worked and usually battered body. Her people who have dabbled in the ability are aware of the insanity that trickles slowly into the user of such abilities.

ARMOR:

(No relation to necromancers)All armor upon the Wild’Har comes from the dead Orcs, Goblins, Ogres, Humans, Elves or Beasts that she herself has dispatched. Half skulls rest on her shoulders. The nimble finger bones cover her joints while rib bones add an extra cover for her chest, . The dried tongues of Deviks (smaller, dragon like creature) wrap around her arms, legs and midsection. The sharpened teeth of Orcs protrude along her shoulders and lower arms. Intestines of the Sliaw (snake-like) are treated and molded into shoes due to their resistance to fire.

RACE: Wild’Har
APPEARANCE:

While in the city it would be extremely rare to see her without a full cloak and head covering, knowing that her people are a rarity and often create a tense and aggressive reaction in others.

COUNTRY OF ORIGIN: Southeast jungle region of the Hyllara
BACKGROUND:

She was born into a happy tribe, though a tribe rife with war. The two occurrences were not unrelated, nor entirely conducive to each other. They often had much to celebrate, their children were born strong and their food supply was plentiful, the natural disasters that struck them were gifts of renewal and the land that they nomadically traveled on was well protected from outsiders and tainting influence by the 100’s of Wild’Har tribes that called the Hyllara home. Her tribe was nestled close to the jungles edge where the Wild’Har had to be the most vigilant and vicious. While war was a consistent, it was viewed as a way of life as much as ceremonies and feasts, dancing by the fire and hunting as a pack, all of which were actions that could be threatened only by a cease in the war that kept outsiders away.

Her people were sub sectioned to a pack of Devik’s, which created a natural and fluid balance for the Devik species. They left much waste, which could contaminate the water and land for days if unchecked; they roamed with uncareful tread, occasionally to close to protected areas, such as the grove of the Crys or the edges of the jungle. It was the Wild’Har that reused the wasted carcasses, that pressed the roaming Deviks back into the jungle, for their own protection and the protection of the outlaying cities.

It was once she had left the confines of the jungle, the protection of her people that Lin began to understand the growing importance for Kartan to rise up towards the great destruction, a need for a new beginning that only Kartan could offer them all. They were surrounded by ‘sinners’, peoples and lands that had lost any light of hope and had a lack of connection to nature that chilled her and sent nightmares to follow her even when she was awake. Her people had been wrong to praise Elana and Kartan both for Elana had turned on them, creating vanity and selfishness that bred like rabies in the mouths of the people.

She returned to the jungle, only to ‘harness’ the Devik’s and lead them crushing into some of the cities closer to the jungle. Her vision was red, her mind went blank as it seemed Kartan himself had embodied her and the stampede she brought down upon the unsuspecting villages. Her own people quelled the attack and returned to the jungle without her, disowning her and leaving her scorned and resentful of the world around her. She was shaking from a rage and use of her own power that had temporarily weakened and blinded her. She was like this when they found her, the pirates.

They knew of her people’s strength and viciousness in a feral sense, so like any dog they placed her into a metal cage beneath the deck and with no view or feel of nature or the sky. She quickly became depressed and withdrawn. It was Iano who probed the little beast with a stick and when she refused to move he spoke to her. Truly she had lost everything except for the truth that this world was filled with many things and she had yet to see one that deserved to survive. Not herself, not even Iano, whom soon she knew by the sound of his steps and though she didn’t speak he continued to speak to her.

It was in this way that she arrived so far from home, in such a strange place: Iano who released her one day while at a port after having made sure the boat was barely guarded. It was this niceness that confused and confounded her, enthralling her to him so that she quickly swelled against him, taking in his scent, and then she ran. She ran for days, weeks? She avoided cities and slept in trees. She ate wild meat raw and listened to the animals, forlorn in their small numbers. She told them all how lost she felt, that her purpose was so gray, yet so defined. Destruction was required for a new beginning. Judgment had been cast. Now she just needed to find a tool in which to deliver it. And this is when she decided to track the Iano, perhaps piracy was the outlet she would use.

It took months for her to capture the scent, months in which she would venture into cities while attempting to control a nausea that seemed to overwhelm her being. And it was within one of these huge cities that she finally found him. This is how she came to find Silver Leaf, tracking the Tindra into the walls. And it was here that she would find her outlet of purpose.

World of Darkness (Boston)

I'm going to post shortly. I think most people are probably just waiting for something to react to and I can give some people something to work with. I'm assuming no one is to concerned with post order; especially not at this stage.

The Silver Leaves; A Northern Crusade.

I'm reworking Linwe and I will have my character sheet up shortly. I'm going Wild'har so the human majority will start to balance a little. I bet Panda would play if we could find him. I really liked his character.

World of Darkness (Boston)

I love him.

The Silver Leaves; A Northern Crusade.

OoOoOoOoOoh....are you playing Iano? I want to play Linwe!

(I actually saved both Iano and Linwe character sheets from Old Guild)

World of Darkness (Boston)

Idlehands, super sad to lose you but I totally understand and thanks for letting us know! Everyone else, specifically Camarilla, I am going to wait another day or two for Hellis and OmegaX to post up and then I am going to move ahead with the meeting so we can get the ball rolling.

[The Darkest City] (Urban Fantasy, 18+)

Nicotine said
I've never read or seen the comic Fables, but I was inspired by some elements from The Wolf Among Us. That being said, this will be an original universe with new characters.I would prefer you play an original character, but if you want to play as a fairy-tale character like Dorothy, feel free to make a Character Sheet.

The Wolf Among Us is an off shoot of Fables. In the comic if a character can no longer pay for "glamour" or keep their identity a secret they are shipped off the Farm. I love Fables. I may be in.

The Guardians of Dara

I'm in.

The Guardians of Dara

Her life had become wrapped up in banal and fate deprecating repetitions. If it wasn’t for that exact moment that had brought them here, her dull life would have seemed enough, but that had not been their path. It was their joint experience that left her life on one path and her mind constantly wandered down animalistic trails. These trails trickled into perceived true religious fervor and found their confines in esoteric corners that made for dull conversations that only really picked a pace when held alone. It was a deep secret and cherished place in which she longed for when they had battled for something worthy. If anyone had asked, that is why she was here.

But, it was more than that too. She had truly seen the touch of the Gods in those moments. She glimpsed what power the smallest sliver of fiend flesh could create with the proper influence (She couldn’t voice it as influence. She couldn’t dictate what it stemmed from as it was never explicitly clear. This was an unanswered question that had persistently licked at her thoughts to occasional degrees of unhealthy obsession). Her life had been dedicated to studying tomes full of stories that her people preached. Irrational stories that were held together with the thin strands of faith, made strong with a yearning for something else. That was her life, but her mind…her mind forfeited to the truth of sighted belief and delved deeper into the reanalyzing of the tomes of Noteyalis and invocations long since broken by something yet sleeping in her ignorance.

_____________________________________________
The first of us drove a melody deep into the terrain and blessed the mud with such a joy that water delivered upon the newly birthed shoreline. But that song instilled an unquenchable need for life. A goodness and purity that gnawed at the dying sand until the tree was born.
_____________________________________________

She had been staring off at where she instinctively knew the seven stars of the exiled destinies would be reaching out in the darkening sky. Lashes, thick and dark in contrast to the glimmering blue they trembled across, gave way to a focusing gaze that finally removed itself from the sheltered constellations and thoughts. She didn’t know how long she had been indulging their past in favor of their tragically jinxed present. She turned her attention briefly to each of them. Perhaps she did not know of their current lives, as she glimpsed at each of them this came as a stunning realization. There was something else there though, connections that surpassed the trivialities of daily life; connections like those creatures that had taken permanent dwelling in her nightmares. Those whispering ghouls that sometimes wink from the shadow of her mind.

“Perhaps a challenge of bow, sword, brawn at this festival? Fun for the citizens who want to jump in on the Guardian bandwagon? A festive release of anger, revenge?” Even with her face uncovered in the presence of proven companions her expression was hard to read. Her lips were curled into a deceptively playful expression, unaccustomed to visibility that masked the more serious planning already tussling about her mind and glittering in her traveling stare. Her smirk calmed into what could only be called a serious smile while she nodded her head and continued, “Plus, A few important citizens would be flattered to be held as honorable judges of the competitions.”

Was this trivial? Maybe just a little. A faith affirming battle of the gods? Perhaps not entirely. But a good poke at death never hurt those chosen to fill the chairs of the dead. There was no better way to poke at death than to surround yourself with the creators of your fortune and murderers of your predecessors accompanied with the intoxication of festival. It sounded delightful and she had needed a reason to touch up the tattoos that claimed a surprising portion of her torso.