Oddsbod

Final Fantasy: The Dark Crystal

Sounds like what we need is moogle insurance.

Nearly done with the drawing, I'll be posting Clementine's rough draft sheet sometime tomorrow.

Final Fantasy: The Dark Crystal

How exactly does a character find out that they were chosen to be a Hero of the Light? I'd also been angling for one as well, just since I thought it'd fit well with the character I'd been going for.

Final Fantasy: The Dark Crystal

If no one else is going for it, I had a Dark Knight idea I was really jonesing to try out, hopefully tomorrow I can finish up the sheet + a drawing of the character.

Concept:

Shy, boyish, easily flustered, generally nice, heavily self-doubting, bit of a worrywort. Fears loneliness, fears weakness, fears his own personal fragility. Character's use of darkness augments his own self-destructive tendencies, and his 'darker urges' in this case are to either completely disregard his own well being and value as a person mid-fight, or to just shut down and refuse to engage, thinking he's useless and there's nothing he can do.

Final Fantasy: The Dark Crystal

Ooh, man, Final Fantasy Tactics stuff, that's awesome.

I know you've filled up, but I'd love to join if a spot ever opens up in the future.

Middle-Earth: The Fifth Age

With each step of the great beast, the ground trembled. Lady Nesrine took great satisfaction from this.

Her party had just argued their way through the fortifications outside the Rammas Echor, and it took no little persuading before the guards of the wall finally allowed the Haradrim through. Nesrine's letter of invitation, signed by the King himself, wasn't accepted until a rider had been sent to Minas Tirith and returned, out of breath, with confirmation. Nesrine's smile was queenly in its austerity as she waved off the guards' muttered apologies, and commended him for his commitment to Gondor's security. The smug smirk she reserved for after they had passed the gates, and were marching the Pelennor Fields.

In the distance, the White City sat like a jewel in a crown, gleaming brightly even under the gloom of the clouded-up afternoon.

"Have you ever been to Minas Tirith?" Nesrine asked the attendant on her left.

"No," said the attendant, Nira, whose status as Nesrine's personal spy did often take him deep into Gondor territory, though his fear of people, crowds, loud noises, and aggressive haggling generally kept him away from the populated cities.

"It's quite a sight," said Nesrine. "In an ideal world we would be here as victorious conquerors. But I can settle for tourists."

Nira didn't know what visiting as a tourist was supposed to feel like, but he doubted it was anything like what they experienced making their way up southern Gondor. Pellargir, Harlond, and several others—in each city, Nesrine met very graciously with the city's lord, and had her soldiers scatter gorgeous red cactus-flower petals as the mumak marched down the central streets. Politics, Nira reasoned, was a rather showy affair.

There were six of them in the curtained red platform mounted on the titanic mumak's back. Nesrine sat at the rear of the enclosure on a mound of decadent pillows and carpets. In the old days, they say, the Haradrim mounted massive war towers on the backs of the mumakil, and carried forces of over twenty armored soldiers. Since then, however, the great tribes have become quite strict on the treatment of their legendary beasts, as the creatures have become rare, expensive, and notable cultural symbols, and wearing out their spines for ostentatious towers had become distinctly unprofitable and unpopular. Nesrine's royal platform was an elegant, crimson structure, armored with polished wood, the banner of Erdir flapping high above the tent. It was comfortably spacious for her small procession, and had all the trappings of a large, homey bedroom.

To Nesrine's left, the ranger Nira, and to her right, Basima, captain of the guard. Around them, four royal Erdira soldiers, tall, dark, and glittery-eyed. Every once in a while, their mumak would raise its massive head, and its trunk would make low trumpeting noises that rustled through the grass of Pelennor like ghosts.

"Lady Nesrine, if I may ask," said Nira, "why a mumak?"

"Why?"

"I mean, it seems excessive, doesn't it? Slower and much less convenient than horses."

"My Nira, we are going to be among statesmen, politicians, and heads of country from every corner of the map. You can be sure that each person there will have their pants undone and their privates out on the table. And when that happens, it helps to have the biggest one present."

She made a rather crude jerking motion with her hand, and laughed at Nira's flustered, "Oh, um, of course."

"The view is quite pretty up here," said Basima, who, lost in thought, had removed her helmet and was gazing out an opening on the side of the platform.

"That too," said Nesrine serenely. With great gray footstep after great gray footstep, the mumak neared the city.

Who Believes In Fairytales?

Phew, finally got that post up.

Who Believes In Fairytales?

Location: Red's Goodie Basket

Mentions: @Crosswire

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What a lovely night. The kind of night with a light wind and soft warm air, where things must be going right for someone, somewhere. Maybe, Eissen thought, that someone is me.

After over two weeks shut up inside her apart, a new record, Eissen Frampt decided that tonight might be a good night for a walk. Fresh groceries were probably a good idea too. She hadn't really been intending to go out, to be perfectly honest—it was just an accident, and a silly one at that. The other night, after leaving dinner on the stove a bit too long, Eissen opened the window to let out the smoke. As the room cleared, fresh and worry-free air let itself inside, and Eissen thought then of leaves and trees and stars and late night corner stores, and before she knew it, she was dressed up and walking out the door, about sixty dollars in her pocket.

The groceries didn't take long. Some canned goods to hold her over, but she strayed this time on the side of cheap perishables, which would maybe force her outside again a bit earlier. A bit of candy, too, from the Asian market just outside the local neighborhood. After a long walk through the park, Eissen found her way right across the street from one of the local bakeries, and she thought then, Why not? Why don't I spoil myself tonight?

Inside, she faintly recognized the place as Red Riding Hood's base of operations. Sweet and thick aromas filled the air, and Eissen couldn't decide if they made her feel more or less awake. At the counter, a red-colored slip of a girl, with a smile that seemed to be saying something (though Eissen couldn't for the life of her tell you what).

"Hey, Little Red," said Eissen. After searching for a second, trying to pin down the most appropriate interpretation of the usual formalities—Lord, when was the last time I spoke to someone?—Eissen asked, "How's the biz?"

Middle-Earth: The Fifth Age

If anyone else is looking to join, btw, we do need some characters to represent North Rhun and Arnor.

Middle-Earth: The Fifth Age

@Bishop I'd like to add that, upon looking through some more of your history on this site, I refuse to roleplay with you. You really are just a troll, or something close, and I'd like to think we're all done feeding.

@BurningCold

Lol yeah I was going along until I think they went just a bittttt too far in the Fairytales thread, misnaming something that it wouldn't make sense to misname since one of the GMs literally just corrected them. 90% sure we've caught and reeled in a wild troll. Though it taunted and turned below the obfuscating waves, eventually, they came too close to the surface of the shadowy sea, and the true form of the troll was thus revealed.