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Queen Raidne female Member

Raspberry Diva

STATUS: Teaching myself web development by trying to fix some BBCode bugs/features in the Guild is probably a bad idea. Oh, well. 7 yrs ago
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Recent Statuses

7 yrs ago
Current Teaching myself web development by trying to fix some BBCode bugs/features in the Guild is probably a bad idea. Oh, well.
1 like
7 yrs ago
Depression is literally soul-sucking.
4 likes
7 yrs ago
If school were less hard, it'd be less interesting. I still want it to be less hard, though.
1 like
8 yrs ago
GUYSGUYSGUYS - I PASSED DYNAMICS!
5 likes
9 yrs ago
Adventures!
3 likes

Bio

Maybe I'll update this.

Most Recent Posts

In From Stardust, to Stardust: Tales of Andromeda, a Sci-Fi Fantasy RP → 10 yrs ago Forum: Nation Roleplay
If anybody in this RP is a particularly good digital artist I like to request a title card for the RP. Thanks if you do it and full credit will be given to you.
duck55223
I can try something. It might be okay. I've got mad l33t absolute n00bish GIMP skillz hidden beneath this dress, homes. @WilsonTurner: Oh, and when the Draconians expand everywhere, I'm certain the Fairies would love to help splinter them into a thousand factions. It sounds highly entertaining.
In Master Request List for bbcodes (or MCodes) → 10 yrs ago Forum: Suggestions/Problems
Going to bump this, now that there's more possibility of work on these.
In Formatting options, Freaking Finally! → 10 yrs ago Forum: Spam Forum
COLORGASM
Dear GOD,
I've waited so
long for this.
And we've even
sort-of got
sizes, too!
In From Stardust, to Stardust: Tales of Andromeda, a Sci-Fi Fantasy RP → 10 yrs ago Forum: Nation Roleplay
####'\|**_Finnegan's_**|\, (some minutes ago) A breathless servant ran up to Finnegan. "There's something of an incident," he said. Something *cracked* rather loudly outside, where at least half of the patrons were. "I think I already know that, young fella," Finnegan replied. "Myo! Get your feathered wings over here!" A Fay with owl's wings and a surprisingly somber gray tweed suit tromped in. "Yes, Finnegan?" Myo asked. "I find myself in need of your diplomatic services," Finnegan said. "Actually," Myo said as something *cracked* outside again, "I'm calling my favor." Finnegan glared at Myo. "Ye-ee-ss?" he said through gritted teeth. "It's simple. For the next ten minutes, do nothing. Make no attempt at communication. Assume a glamour of concealment. That's it," Myo said. "Fine. Then we're even," Finnegan said. "Yes, even." Finnegan vanished from sight. Myo straightened his glasses, assumed a glamour of concealment himself, and walked out of the Trade House. More ships appeared in the sky. Myo was halfway to the edge of the hyperspace node by then. At the edge, he leaned down, and cast the spell which he'd been saving so much Aetherfluid for. Fairy magic was either a glamour, a charm, or a curse. Glamours altered appearance, sound, and other *information* for some amount of time. Charms and curses, however, altered *processes*. And the Path was a giant, sprawling, living entity, full of *processes*. So all a Fairy had to do (unless you were Queen Titania, of course) was save up enough Aetherfluid to alter the Path's processes. Such an action would get Queen Titania *pissed* at you, of course. And the concentration required to hold that much Aetherfluid prevented you from even flying. But somewhere in the galaxy was the Hellstar. And somewhere from the Hellstar were its little minions. And *one* of them had to be close enough for the Path to grab. The introduction of such a beast would make the Fairies *pay attention* again, and perhaps stop cowering in hyperspace, playing small-time pranks on the galactic population. The Hellstar had its own, twisted magicks, something very interesting indeed. And with the Path, the Fay could rise to prominence among the galaxy. But it wouldn't be possible with an inn like Finnegan's in the way of centralization. Queen Titania had no idea what power she could wield; what power their race could wield. The Path twisted, groaning in directions it was never meant to bend. The search was taking a while; surely Finnegan's ten minutes were ending soon. A small ripple of strange magic reached Myo. Ah. "There you are," Myo croaked, smiling, collapsed on the ground from exertion. "Say hello to the end of anarchy." With the very last of his Aetherfluid, Myo forced the Path to grab the eldritch magic. ~o~0~o~ Finnegan popped back into view. Developments had happened. He was displeased. Without warning, a sourceless cold wind blew throughout the node. The Path, once a happy, clearly-marked trail of woodchips, shifted to a twisted maze of sharp rocks and pebbles. The node had almost destabilized. Nothing should be able to destabilize a node. It was literally impossible under normal laws of physcis, even hyperspace physics. Somewhere overhead, the Aetherfield was boiling with wrongness. "Myo, you son of a bastard, what did you do?" Finnegan said to nobody in particular. But Finnegan hadn't gotten this far by complaining. The Path shuddered again, new routes rippling out from *Finnegan's*. He sighed. It had taken him a lifetime to build the network of favors he was about to call. Reaching beneath the old oaken bar top, he stuck his hand through a glamour-covered hole. The hidden fingerprint scanner clicked. A little red button rose from the bar top. After another moment of indecision, Finnegan pushed it. Finnegan's face appeared in a hazy green glamour in front of the hotel. Fireballs shot up on either side. "I am Finnegan, the great and much-owed," the glamour said in a deep, amplified voice, understandable by all. More fireballs. "I am proprietor of this Inn. As of now, all debts to me are void if you assist in getting rid of that." Finnegan's head jerked upwards, his habitual jaunty green hat nearly falling off. Clearly, he was indicating the Aeon intruder. "I repeat, all debts are void if you assist in getting rid of that thing. And to whatever or whomever that thing is, we'd prefer it if'n you'd just go back to where you came from and left us well alone, thanks very much." Meanwhile, red lights popped on all over the facility. The dance club's music went silent. A single Fairy, the handler of Queen Titania's spies, raced off along the Path toward Faerie. She was soon followed by half a dozen other Fay, running to inform Finnegan's debtors of a fantastic offer, or to inform the other Inns that - good news - *Finnegan's* was in trouble, and that they should expect more customers soon. Most of the rest of the population was suddenly galvanized into action. Outside, complete chaos erupted as Fairies leaped into flight, rising to meet the challenge. Who *cared* about foreign armies, Finnegan was offering to nullify all debts. Even if they didn't have a debt, *maybe Finnegan would owe them one* - and there were few other Fay more lucrative in their favors than Finnegan. Mercenaries and shop owners got in on the action, too, even if to just throw rocks at the thing to say they'd "helped". Free stall rent was a good deal. The effect was similar to a technicolor volcanic eruption. Various bits of stolen ordnance were launched at the *thing*, from spears to RPG's to concentrated Aetherfluid. Curses were crafted around the thing. The ships that came with it were mostly ignored, though they were skirted around. An ancient-looking flak track was pulled out from a tarp. Nearly every other round hit some hapless Fay. ~o~0~o~ ####'\|**Imperial Warship *Tomerarenai-fū*, Captain's Quarters|\,** Penelope's eagerness fell a little at the mention of radiation. Some part of her knew that she'd screwed up as soon as she'd stepped off the Path. Kaunt Hesslas-Iss (the best she could remember from before she'd implemented the translation glamour) had said something about being honor-bound to help her. That made no sense to Penelope, but maybe that was just the Abh way of accepting her offer? Thinking back, she tried to remember everything she'd learned about the Abh. There had been something about the race back when the Path was born. There was also the unpleasant memory of the Fay she'd dated who insisted that five-inch tall glamours (or, Titania forbid, actual height adjustments) would come back in style because it was the Path's anniversary. That was the same Fay who tried to live a "Natural, Pre-Path, pre-technological existence," and never left Faerie. The relationship hadn't lasted long, but it was fun while it had. He'd been the one to inspire her search for Euryale, at any rate. "'Honor-bound'?" Penelope asked, tilting her head. "But we've struck no bargain! How can you be honor-bound to an agreement that doesn't exist yet?" She could feel Aetherfluid slowly draining. At some point, she'd have push past the radium to grab more from the Aetherfield again. "Ooh! And where are we? Why's this a military ship? What are we doing? Where are we gong? And have you seen-" here Penelope forced more Aetherfluid from her pool to form a tiny, 5-inch, 3D glamour of Euryale in her hands "-this Fairy? I'm looking for her. That's why I'm here. She invented the Path, of course, but she might still be alive somewhere. I mean, that's not why I'm here, really. I want to learn how to be on a starship, because Euryale was on starships, and *she* had this grasp of technology - look, she even re-built her wings; I don't know how *anyone* can stand having that much iron in their body. But Euryale did! She had it all figured out." A faint wave of radiation wafted through her. The glamours distorted fuzzily for a second, the tiny version of Euryale going breaking into pixles and speech turning incomprehensible. Re-establishing them drained Penelope of Aetherfluid. She shoved her way through the radium, broke into a much more visible sweat, and her hair went frizzy, as if it were a humid day. A need to sleep panged in Penelope's head.
In From Stardust, to Stardust: Tales of Andromeda, a Sci-Fi Fantasy RP → 10 yrs ago Forum: Nation Roleplay
And I'm back again. Finally managed to sort out the scheduling errors the school saddled me with, and managed to re-stabilize my sleep and homework-completing patterns. Expect my posting response time to decrease now.
In From Stardust, to Stardust: Tales of Andromeda, a Sci-Fi Fantasy RP → 10 yrs ago Forum: Nation Roleplay
School just started today; expect delayed postings from me as I adjust. I expect the adjustment period to last a week, after which whatever rate I'm posting will probably stabilize somewhere lower than previously. [hider="Haha, like *these* work"]There's a slim, tiny chance that I may need to drop out.[/hider]
In From Stardust, to Stardust: Tales of Andromeda, a Sci-Fi Fantasy RP → 10 yrs ago Forum: Nation Roleplay
####'\|**Imperial Warship *Tomerarenai-fū*, Captain's Quarters|\,** Penelope was still a little shell-shocked. On a whim, she'd decided three months ago to see if Euryale, creator of the Path, was still alive somewhere. It wasn't a crazy idea; the path could dilate time pretty heavily in some places. The rest of the Fay, however, gave her some funny looks when she mentioned the first part of her plan, though. She wanted to live on a starship. Many starships, as a matter of fact. The way Penelope reckoned it, the best way to find a Fay was to think like that Fay. And the best way to think like Euryale was to hang around cold iron and hard radiation for a few months. Maybe even a few years. The Fairy outcasts weren't a close-knit group, even for Fairies. Even so, if you were thinking of trapping yourself in a poisonous ship in an alien environment with an anti-magical antidote running through your veins, it was assumed that you'd take precautions first. Such as doing the research, or contacting an outcast. And while she'd stayed at *Finnegan's* for a few weeks, stocking up on radium (she'd also bargained for a pendant (and now owed Finnegan a "favor", Titania help her)) and waiting to find an outcast, Penelope was not a patient Fairy. Had she been patient, she might have known to look for a better endpoint to the Path. Or known to peek about to make sure the room was clear before exiting the Path. Or perhaps to assume a glamour of invisibility before exiting, just in case there was someone on the other side. Even without research and/or training, Penelope should have known better than to follow a trail that led to a twisting, shuddering endpoint: a clear sign that the Path was in distress, and would quickly shirk the probably highly-ferrous, likely radioactive location. But Penelope was not a patient Fairy, and this was the first trail that she found leading to a starship. So the (relatively) young Fairy changed into the finest cloth boots and dress she could find (glamours were tricky while using radium), downed one of the vials of radium, and set off. Thus Penelope fluttered from an oxygenated tunnel in a tiny, weightless asteroid into the quarters of an unsuspecting Abh warship Captain. The Path shuddered behind her, the endpoint disappearing in an instant. It obviously wasn't going to come back soon. Even with the radium, a dull ache set in on her wingtips and behind her eyes. And there was an alien, floating right in front of her! A real, live alien! Sure, there had been aliens at *Finnegan's*, but they didn't count. Penelope twitched her wings a bit, re-orienting herself to get a better look at the creature. She was brown-skinned with long, flowing hair, a long torso, rounded ears, and an almost-pretty face. The alien was wearing a two-piece white garment, nothing like the gauzy dress and wrapped cloth boots Penelope had on. And she was holding a sword. The alien said something. Penelope maneuvered herself around the alien, wanting to get a better look at its hair. The alien awkwardly rotated to keep the blade pointed at Penelope. She really didn't understand why it was crouched down like that. The alien started to say something again. With a sigh, Penelope forced her way through the radium, breaking into a small sweat, and used an audio glamour. The speech was now recognizeable. She did the same with her own speech, noting with dismay that her wings were crumpling at the edges from exertion. Now she had a headache. Something else registered from the Aetherfield - the alien wasn't working all the way. Could be a useful bargaining chip. "-rom that cursed fifth planet? Are you the face of the demons that we fight? Answer me!" the alien said. Something clicked in Penelope's head. "You're an Abh! I've heard about you, but I've never seen one! Your species doesn't walk the Path very often. Hmm. You're much taller in person, you know that?" Penelope said. She took a breath. "Oh-! I'm Penelope. Hello! That's a very nice sword, did you make it? Gosh, how can you stand not having trees? Can I get a room like this? If I do, can I have one with less metal? Maybe put in some wooden tiling. I'll help out, of course. Nothing major, though, just small maintenance things. I've been practicing on some of the ships at *Finnegan's*. And I've gotten really good at making sure things don't implode, too! Oh, I'm not letting you talk, am I? I do that sometimes. Especially when I'm excited, which I guess I am now, because this is my first time in a real-life spaceship!"
In From Stardust, to Stardust: Tales of Andromeda, a Sci-Fi Fantasy RP → 10 yrs ago Forum: Nation Roleplay
KeyGuyPerson: Did you just *summon* a Fairy onto your starship and then leave me to explain how and why it happened? ...I love it. This is the best present **ever**. <3
In From Stardust, to Stardust: Tales of Andromeda, a Sci-Fi Fantasy RP → 10 yrs ago Forum: Nation Roleplay
Sure! The whole point of the inns between worlds is to make more contact (preferrably friendly) happen. Though if you start a fight, there'll probably be mercenaries/bouncers of some form.
In From Stardust, to Stardust: Tales of Andromeda, a Sci-Fi Fantasy RP → 10 yrs ago Forum: Nation Roleplay
####**'\|_Finnegan's Trade House_, Hyperspace |\,** *Finnegan's* was one of a handful of Inns between Worlds - establishments built on semi-stable hyperspace nodules in the middle of the Fairy Path. You could walk there, the Path could suck your spaceship into the "parking lot", or (if you were well-regarded by Finnegan or the staff) you could follow the directions from a Fairy pendant. The pendants were a relatively new thing, made with the cooperation of a well-inebriated Guan. Activated by body heat and only operable in the unique physics of hyperspace or the Path, the pendants pointed the way toward *Finnegan's* using a tiny homing microchip blessed with Fay magic. If you owned one, you could always find your way back to *Finnegan's*, and if you could find your way back to *Finnegan's*, you could make yourself very wealthy. They had paid for themselves many times over. The introduction of the pendants had turned *Finnegan's* from a jovial pub and inn to a neutral ground where a select number of merchants, mercenaries, secret government officials, Path-walkers, and ship-captains could meet, barter, trade, exchange information, and get a good night's rest. Meanwhile, Finnegan was getting a never-ending source of staff from those unable to pay for their food and drink. Not to mention the hundreds of rare treasures hidden away in secret rooms. It was a very lucrative business, and recently Finnegan had installed an entire warehouse to facilitate it. You could, if you paid Finnegan a "fair" price, rent out space, set up shop, and make yourself a pretty penny. The pub itself, once entirely made of a two-story brick-and-glass storefront, now had expanded out in a slew of directions and materials. There was a modern plastic, alloy, and glass edifice with flashing lights and smoky air that always had a heavy bass song blaring; a thirteen-story concrete hotel jutting out the back of the pub; an oaken longhouse with a roaring firepit, bawdy bards, and a heavy smell of meat; a rather extravagent five-story stone gothic ballroom with stained glass and peaked roofs and flying buttresses; and, of course, the new warehouse, made of a shimmering bronze and marble. The parking lot was weightless, but atmosphere-filled. Finnegan had had to strike a bargain with Queen Titania herself to get the Path to do that, but it was much better than when the first spaceships had stumbled onto the node and crashed dramatically into the forest. The Fairy Path itself was a woodchip road lined with small mossy stones. At one point, this chunk of Path had been part of a pine-needle forest, with rotting trunks, rings of mushrooms, and beds of moss two inches thick covering the ground. If you could make it to *Finnegan's*, the next hundred meters of Path was incredibly obvious to even non-magical species: a rarity along the Path. That's why it was a popular destination for would-be adventurers, most of whom would wind up dead on an airless rock somewhere. It was an uneasy air in the pub this morning. Rumors were flying. A severely burnt Path-walker had died the night before; apparently somebody had glassed her planet. She had stayed in one of the guest's rooms: a surly Roman by the name of Seth. Romans were rare. Like most non-magical species (or unawakened ones, at any rate), they had difficulty walking and finding the Path. Meanwhile, there were wild claims of empires making actual contact with each other. Peaceful contact. The kind that might result in trade. *Finnegan's* might no longer have a near-monopoly on interspecies trade. Oh, sure, some "rare artifacts" could always be sold, and "new" inventions could always be patented. No species was in contact with every other species. If the rumors were true, it was the end of an era. Potentially, however, it was the beginning of another. Finnegan thought that this could be an opportunity. Grabbing some of his closest staff at random, he made an offer: freedom in exchange for making contact with alien diplomats, and giving them pendants. A small few accepted, and he sent them out to walk the Path. Perhaps a few would make it somewhere interesting. Likely they would all die. But it would be worth a few good stories, at any rate.
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