It looks interesting. Not a lot of people check the General interest thread off bat. Most head over to the more specified areas, hoping to Rp with likewise roleplayers.
Renny
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S E A S O N E D
STATUS: "An apology is a promise to do things differently next time, and to keep the promise." - Ging Freecss 4 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 10 mos ago
- Joined: 10 yrs ago
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- Renny 10 yrs ago
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4 yrs ago
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"An apology is a promise to do things differently next time, and to keep the promise." - Ging Freecss
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4 yrs ago
“If you want to find the secrets of the universe, think in terms of energy, frequency and vibration.” ― Nikola Tesla
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4 yrs ago
“I think and think for months and years. Ninety-nine times, the conclusion is false. The hundredth time I am right.” – Albert Einstein
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4 yrs ago
“Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.” ― Rumi
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4 yrs ago
“Stand in the ashes of a trillion dead souls, and asks the ghosts if honor matters. The silence is your answer.” ― Javik
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Most Recent Posts
In
Baybridge Advertisement Thread [Superhuman/City/Realistic]
→
8 yrs ago
Forum: General Interest Checks
Are you guys still accepting applications?
EDIT: I think I got my answer. Nevermind lol.
EDIT: I think I got my answer. Nevermind lol.
In
Academy Wars: Rituals and Technology in the Modern World, a Magitech School RP
→
8 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Yasuo stared at her critically, meaningfully; looking for some ill-intent, trying to figure out if he could depend on her words. Moments turned to seconds and seconds turned into a literal minute. Another breeze slid its fingertips against him before pressing on to Kuzunao-sensei.
He broke the syrupy silence with a gesture, a kind of relaxation that sagged his shoulders and loosened his spine. He beamed at her slightly before muffling his borderline feminine chuckle with his hand. She was truly beautiful. When he was done, one of his hands fell into his pocket, the other hung at his side as if weighed down by the black-woven bracelet on his wrist.
He smiled at her in the same way he had earlier, except there laid a kind of acceptance in its gentle tug upwards. In some form, Kuzunao-sensei was actually kind of… genuine. Her words, no matter how he twisted and turned them in his head was honest.
She was kinda like Naota in that regard. His fist clenched in his pocket. Still, her honesty had convinced him to do something he wouldn’t normally do. He squatted low to the ground and pondered exactly what truth he’d tell her. He flicked his eyes up at her. She was probably tired of bearing through his silent pauses.
He made his decision quick, though his words came out cautiously, “Kuzunao-sensei, did you know my dad was a famous naval officer? He doesn’t have anything to do with the current me but I’ve sorta killed his spirit.”
The sound of those words had always haunted him. Now they left his mouth so easy that it felt blasphemous to his cage of guilt. Some kind of betrayal.
“I know he's avoiding me now, at home he doesn't even ask me to train with him anymore. But that doesn’t really matter to me, I’m well aware that he’s willing to forgive me whenever I decided to… recover. It’s what caused him to give up on me that’s bothering me.”
"Kuzunao-sensei, this year’s tournament is dredging up old demons for me. Angels too,” he told her, chuckling again and raising his hand to muffle the girlish sound.
He broke the syrupy silence with a gesture, a kind of relaxation that sagged his shoulders and loosened his spine. He beamed at her slightly before muffling his borderline feminine chuckle with his hand. She was truly beautiful. When he was done, one of his hands fell into his pocket, the other hung at his side as if weighed down by the black-woven bracelet on his wrist.
He smiled at her in the same way he had earlier, except there laid a kind of acceptance in its gentle tug upwards. In some form, Kuzunao-sensei was actually kind of… genuine. Her words, no matter how he twisted and turned them in his head was honest.
She was kinda like Naota in that regard. His fist clenched in his pocket. Still, her honesty had convinced him to do something he wouldn’t normally do. He squatted low to the ground and pondered exactly what truth he’d tell her. He flicked his eyes up at her. She was probably tired of bearing through his silent pauses.
He made his decision quick, though his words came out cautiously, “Kuzunao-sensei, did you know my dad was a famous naval officer? He doesn’t have anything to do with the current me but I’ve sorta killed his spirit.”
The sound of those words had always haunted him. Now they left his mouth so easy that it felt blasphemous to his cage of guilt. Some kind of betrayal.
“I know he's avoiding me now, at home he doesn't even ask me to train with him anymore. But that doesn’t really matter to me, I’m well aware that he’s willing to forgive me whenever I decided to… recover. It’s what caused him to give up on me that’s bothering me.”
"Kuzunao-sensei, this year’s tournament is dredging up old demons for me. Angels too,” he told her, chuckling again and raising his hand to muffle the girlish sound.
@AHeartlessNobody It was aye okay! I posted again btw.
Ben Solo
18 | Padawan | DagobahThe panic that emanated from the white knights were instant. Ben frowned, his features hardening into a cold calculation. It was so painfully obvious that they had heard the term before, that they had been warned of it. Their panic was soon replaced with a tempered and aimed aggression.
One of the soldiers harshly jabbed the barrel of his blaster towards him, motioning towards the ground as he yelled, “Down on the ground now! Jedi are not welcomed in the galaxy of the First Order. Neither the air we breathe, sky we fly, or space with explore! Down or we shoot!”
Tsk was all Ben could manage from himself. The meager threats couldn’t be back up when compared to his power in the Force. He was, for lack of a better word, a proxy of the unrestricted talents.
“You,” he paused and swept his eyes onto each soldier with finality. “Have no idea who you’re messing with. Soon you will though, soon… you all will.”
“I said dow-” His loud orders were interrupted as a concussive wave of the Force plowed into him and his two comrades.
Ben flicked his lightsaber to life and as its breath simmered, sizzled; he ripped another of the soldiers behind him and against the hard stone. The fleshy thump of his body, followed by the sullen slide of his body to the floor could be heard through the armor.
The last soldier helped the first to his feet. Ben imagined that if his mask could convey expressions that it'd be near one of the extremes of terror and awe. As the man went to drag his comrade away, Ben stepped in pursuit of them back up the stairs.
At least they’re loyal. Alot more than my own father, He sighed softly.
It was an effortless task to corner them with his senses in the Force. He knew the general layout of the temple from his earlier probing. Before long he was standing over them, falling into a crouched position, and extracting what he needed from them. The First Order… it was a militant movement. Some form of army against The New Republic.
The process left the last soldier drained and Ben utterly tired of looking at him. Living the man's recent life had sorta reminded him of his own and that was just pathetic, especially considering he was a prince. His lightsaber came to life again.
Better to kill you now than you getting the idea of shooting me in the back later.
One of the soldiers harshly jabbed the barrel of his blaster towards him, motioning towards the ground as he yelled, “Down on the ground now! Jedi are not welcomed in the galaxy of the First Order. Neither the air we breathe, sky we fly, or space with explore! Down or we shoot!”
Tsk was all Ben could manage from himself. The meager threats couldn’t be back up when compared to his power in the Force. He was, for lack of a better word, a proxy of the unrestricted talents.
“You,” he paused and swept his eyes onto each soldier with finality. “Have no idea who you’re messing with. Soon you will though, soon… you all will.”
“I said dow-” His loud orders were interrupted as a concussive wave of the Force plowed into him and his two comrades.
Ben flicked his lightsaber to life and as its breath simmered, sizzled; he ripped another of the soldiers behind him and against the hard stone. The fleshy thump of his body, followed by the sullen slide of his body to the floor could be heard through the armor.
The last soldier helped the first to his feet. Ben imagined that if his mask could convey expressions that it'd be near one of the extremes of terror and awe. As the man went to drag his comrade away, Ben stepped in pursuit of them back up the stairs.
At least they’re loyal. Alot more than my own father, He sighed softly.
It was an effortless task to corner them with his senses in the Force. He knew the general layout of the temple from his earlier probing. Before long he was standing over them, falling into a crouched position, and extracting what he needed from them. The First Order… it was a militant movement. Some form of army against The New Republic.
The process left the last soldier drained and Ben utterly tired of looking at him. Living the man's recent life had sorta reminded him of his own and that was just pathetic, especially considering he was a prince. His lightsaber came to life again.
Better to kill you now than you getting the idea of shooting me in the back later.
In
Academy Wars: Rituals and Technology in the Modern World, a Magitech School RP
→
8 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Anguish held him close. It was a one-sided obsession, the suffocating, stalker kind of embrace that made its home in his heart. The pain was a reminder of his evils… his wrongs. They were his; he knew.
Yasuo found the pristine sky and accidentally let go of his guilt. It flowed out and disappeared; in thought of his ignorance, of his lack of control, he found only a gentle smirk on his face. It was all so trivial in the grand scheme of things but he couldn’t bring himself to forget.
His hand reached out towards the negative emotions he let out and with stretched fingers he looked to grasp them, to return them to him. It was when he imagined them at his fingertips that he heard a kind, womanly voice.
A thoughtful second went by before he pulled his arm back, somberly losing his guilt, and sat up to face her. To face, Kuzunao-sensei.
“Kuzunao-sensei,” he uttered as he reached for words that could keep him from… exposing himself.
Yasuo felt the wind brush against his back, ushering him to calm. He stood up to his feet, dusted off his pant’s legs and chest, a smile danced on the edge of his lips.
He had trouble keeping his eyes fixed to her, they darted to the ground or side instead. One reason was his anxiety, the other was that she was above-averagely beautiful. Uniquely so. Kuzunao-sensei was that rare kind of teacher; she was loved by her students and peers. The occasional rumor of her being a horrible drunk would slip through her impregnable reputation but it never lasted long. Now he had to make up an excuse for his nonsensical gestures towards the sky. Looking at her earlier, he had decided then that he'd use misdirection to avoid his truth.
“I botched my test didn’t I? D-Do you plan on finally getting my father involved? I don't think he'll accept me failing school too. He'd probably slap me across the head... or disown me.”
Yasuo found the pristine sky and accidentally let go of his guilt. It flowed out and disappeared; in thought of his ignorance, of his lack of control, he found only a gentle smirk on his face. It was all so trivial in the grand scheme of things but he couldn’t bring himself to forget.
His hand reached out towards the negative emotions he let out and with stretched fingers he looked to grasp them, to return them to him. It was when he imagined them at his fingertips that he heard a kind, womanly voice.
A thoughtful second went by before he pulled his arm back, somberly losing his guilt, and sat up to face her. To face, Kuzunao-sensei.
“Kuzunao-sensei,” he uttered as he reached for words that could keep him from… exposing himself.
Yasuo felt the wind brush against his back, ushering him to calm. He stood up to his feet, dusted off his pant’s legs and chest, a smile danced on the edge of his lips.
He had trouble keeping his eyes fixed to her, they darted to the ground or side instead. One reason was his anxiety, the other was that she was above-averagely beautiful. Uniquely so. Kuzunao-sensei was that rare kind of teacher; she was loved by her students and peers. The occasional rumor of her being a horrible drunk would slip through her impregnable reputation but it never lasted long. Now he had to make up an excuse for his nonsensical gestures towards the sky. Looking at her earlier, he had decided then that he'd use misdirection to avoid his truth.
“I botched my test didn’t I? D-Do you plan on finally getting my father involved? I don't think he'll accept me failing school too. He'd probably slap me across the head... or disown me.”
lol lovely post
I got a post up and now I will disappear into the veil of RPguild lol.
For no reason that he could think of, other than a rather rusty smell that passed beneath him, Goldas had felt uneasy. He paused for just a moment, his heel twisting as he restrained the urge to alert whatever he had smelled.
Goldas flared his nose. Its nothing. A kid that ran by or something… that has to be it.
Another whiff, just cause, and he realized it had moved on--towards Mary’s both. He tucked his hand in his pocket, stared at the direction of the scent, and pondered the floating wallet that now swayed in the air.
“A wizard then,” he smiled genuinely, impressed at the potency of it. He had almost completely missed him; magic levels, presence, intent, it had all been wiped away. “That’s really something, kid or guy- or gal. Anyway, nice.” Walking away mid-sentence, his hand was raised in a informal goodbye, simple yet striking.
Afterwards he kept moving through the festival. Girls from here and there, those that his charms had worked on more thoroughly had approached him with their friends. Sadly, for them anyway, he hadn’t been feeling up to having company. He dismally and without care, shrugged them all away. Besides, among the ribbons of scents that wafted and tangled together, one in particular had…awakened him.
Goldas found a concrete cube among the path of the booths and sat on it, one of his legs stretched forward as he pretended to be busy on his lacrima-phone. He pulled the smooth white square from his pocket and poured a small bit of magic into it. A transparent screen popped up. Among the hundreds of inconsequential numbers in them, he found one that he held in high-regard.
He composed a text message with masterful speed.
Goldas felt his heart thrum with some form of adrenaline, embarrassment even. He stared at his message then deleted most of it, leaving only:
He sent it then, fine with the subtle message his text imbued. The phone was tucked into his pocket; a child and his little sister ran by with innocent delight on their faces. Now he would have to wait to see if she had her phone or not. He’d know soon enough.
Goldas flared his nose. Its nothing. A kid that ran by or something… that has to be it.
Another whiff, just cause, and he realized it had moved on--towards Mary’s both. He tucked his hand in his pocket, stared at the direction of the scent, and pondered the floating wallet that now swayed in the air.
“A wizard then,” he smiled genuinely, impressed at the potency of it. He had almost completely missed him; magic levels, presence, intent, it had all been wiped away. “That’s really something, kid or guy- or gal. Anyway, nice.” Walking away mid-sentence, his hand was raised in a informal goodbye, simple yet striking.
Afterwards he kept moving through the festival. Girls from here and there, those that his charms had worked on more thoroughly had approached him with their friends. Sadly, for them anyway, he hadn’t been feeling up to having company. He dismally and without care, shrugged them all away. Besides, among the ribbons of scents that wafted and tangled together, one in particular had…awakened him.
Goldas found a concrete cube among the path of the booths and sat on it, one of his legs stretched forward as he pretended to be busy on his lacrima-phone. He pulled the smooth white square from his pocket and poured a small bit of magic into it. A transparent screen popped up. Among the hundreds of inconsequential numbers in them, he found one that he held in high-regard.
He composed a text message with masterful speed.
Klisa, are you back? I can smell you for some reason. I don’t even know if ya still have your phone or not, you’re good for losing it during missions, lol. Text me, no find me if you are. I’ve missed ya, Klisa.
Goldas felt his heart thrum with some form of adrenaline, embarrassment even. He stared at his message then deleted most of it, leaving only:
Klisa, are you back? I can smell you for some reason. I don’t even know if ya still have your phone or not, you’re good for losing it during missions lol. Text me when you can.
He sent it then, fine with the subtle message his text imbued. The phone was tucked into his pocket; a child and his little sister ran by with innocent delight on their faces. Now he would have to wait to see if she had her phone or not. He’d know soon enough.
In
Academy Wars: Rituals and Technology in the Modern World, a Magitech School RP
→
8 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
@banjoanjo That would be awesome. I'd love for some emotional healing to start early so he's not so angsty around everyone. Thanks Banjo
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