Avatar of Obscene Symphony

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Recent Statuses

5 mos ago
Current Guild fr if you want me to sign up to a patreon or something I will, these ads are making the site unusable
6 likes
5 mos ago
when will you troglodytes ascend to enlightenment and start hosting your rp images on the guild
2 likes
6 mos ago
My jokes are of utmost seriousness
1 like
6 mos ago
Days like this it really pains me that the guild loads with the status bar open automatically
4 likes
8 mos ago
revert back? we never left!
2 likes

Bio

child of the storm

Current RPs:

Archived RPs:

If you're interested in some short completed pieces of mine beyond my regular RP posts, feel free to rifle through my filing cabinet here.

About me:
  • Birth year 1998
  • Female
  • Canadian RIP
  • Time zone: Atlantic, GMT-4 (one hour ahead of EST)
  • Currently judging your grammar
  • Not usually looking for 1x1s but if you're really jonesing, my PMs are always open
  • Discord Obscene#1925

Most Recent Posts


Gravity was made for me FYI


Roan shuffled mutely past the old woman muttering cryptic nonsense on the porch and into the cottage close on the commander’s heels, eyes cast blindly at the floorboards as images of his burned and beaten comrades and a million other horrors monopolized his mind. Still shackled by the ward his captors cast on him to bind his magic, he may as well have been deaf, too; the only thing he really noticed when he entered, aside from the notable lack of blood and other fluids on the walls, was the sharp pang of hunger that hit him when the smell of fresh bread hit his nose.

It was the second time in as many minutes that Roan wanted to cry. He couldn’t honestly remember the last time he’d eaten something that wasn’t half-rotted or otherwise unspeakably foul, and the prospect of real food, like all of the night so far, was too good to be true. But while he was in here drooling over bread, poor Marie was abandoned in the holding facility, and Dylan was outside, dying on the grass.

It was too much. It was all too much, too fast. As quickly as his hunger came, it was gone again, morphing back into a familiar ache of nausea, his stomach twisting itself up into well-practiced knots. Roan couldn’t even bear to look at the pot on the stove; instead, hurried into the next room at the commander’s order, eager to distance himself once more from the others.

The cottage living room was as quaint and homey as the rest of the place, but Roan wasn’t overly observant of the decor. Instead, he focused on the lone occupant, a woman with short graying black hair and similar features to the man in the kitchen, who paced about the floor with a metal rod in her hands.

“Hey,” Roan croaked, skipping the pleasantries to seat himself on a couch. He gasped quietly as he sat down, both pained and grateful as he sunk into the first soft thing he’d touched in months.

But the pleasure was short-lived. He didn’t look at Diana. If he did, he knew he’d lose what little courage he had left. They both knew what was coming next, and that it wouldn’t be pleasant. Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his unburned temple, gesturing to himself with his free hand. “Just fuck me up.”




No matter what happened, even as a cacophony of noise broke out behind him, Roan did not look back; shamefully, he didn’t even look back to make sure his rescuers made good on their escape. His sole focus was putting one foot in front of the other, sprinting (to the best of his ability) as far from that place as his battered, emaciated legs could carry him. He didn’t even stop when the forest seemed to swallow him whole, as the world went black and ate all the light and sound around him. His heart shuddered, the fear gripping him that this must have been the edge of a cruel illusion and that soon he’d wake up to nothing but the fluorescent lights of his torture cell and the cruel faces of his tormentors - it wouldn’t be the first time - but not even that grim prospect stayed his feet. Instead, he laboured on with determination bordering on mindlessness, groping for the end to his nightmare. When the darkness was finally pulled away like a sheet and he wasn’t still in prison, Roan almost fell to his knees.

How he managed to stay upright was a mystery, really. He ambled inside with the rest of them, but as his new compatriots started winding down, Roan’s adrenaline still ran high; he was still ready to run at any moment, hesitant to believe that the idyllic cottage in the middle of a prairie he found himself in was real, expecting to wake up from this dream at any moment.

The Commander’s orders seemed to snap him out of it, though - or, more specifically, his orders about Dylan. Roan was incensed before he even fully registered the command - just drop him? Couldn’t he see what kind of condition he was in?! He was glad the purple-haired kid didn’t seem to listen and put Dylan gently on the ground, but a part of Roan almost wished he hadn’t. Something about seeing Dylan on the grass, his bruises and burns illuminated by moonlight and his hair singed and half-gone, finally hit home that this was real. Roan really was rescued - but Dylan really was hurt. And Marie really was dead.

Roan’s heart began to race anew, and his breathing quickened as he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from Dylan’s disturbingly still form. Tears pressed at his eyes - or they would have, if he had the water for it - and he wanted to fall over his friend, start barking for the Life mage someone mentioned to come and attend to him, to tell him that he got the bastard who’d been plaguing them for so long - but nothing happened.

After a long moment of stillness, Roan flinched violently at the touch of a hand on his shoulder, whipping around fearfully to face the source only to find Lyra offering words of encouragement. The vampire he’d helped with the Inquisitor also offered a nod, and Roan swallowed hard, suddenly very self conscious. His throat stung, scrubbed raw from dryness and screaming.

Embarrassed, he offered no other input, willing himself not to look at Dylan again as he followed the Commander into the cottage.
Sorry for the delay, here's what I've got so far on my sheet.




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