Avatar of Searat
  • Last Seen: 2 yrs ago
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    1. Searat 7 yrs ago
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Status

Recent Statuses

5 yrs ago
Current Can someone please lower Life's difficulty setting?
10 likes
6 yrs ago
Pizza is a main course, but is also a pie. Therefore, I can eat pizza as my meal and have another pizza as my dessert.
3 likes
6 yrs ago
When I need a left sock, there is none. When I don't need one, there is a surplus. I think the world is toying with me.
2 likes
6 yrs ago
Sunny days are meant to be spent in a dark room surfing the net and watching series in netflix.
11 likes
6 yrs ago
Eating a stick of butter is not as fun as it sounds to be.
4 likes

Bio

I am Searat
Half sea, Half rat, All Aqueous Rodent.

My role playing career is something i consider as a hobby of some sort but as to how long i have been role playing, I would say that i have three to four years under my belt. (Though most of the times I was role playing, they were nothing as serious as this and were more of a means to relieve stress with my friends or test out ideas that came to mind with them.)

As for my preferences to genres of role play, I would have no biases nor specific preferences to any genre and would be able to adapt to the genre as best I can when placed into it.

Some of my hobbies consist of: playing games, surfing the web, walking, bowling, darts, and cooking. I sometimes write and draw things but not as much to consider it to be a serious hobby.

Most Recent Posts


HP: 300/300 | MP: 315/315 | SP: 330/330



"That's the plan. Amulak even made compromises. We just need to capture a bandit or any other hostil-" But he was unable to finish his statement as Ames spat out words so fast that it would put a submachine gun to shame. When he finally decided to take a breath and ask if he made any sense, Raime only stared at the auburn-haired warrior; face frozen in awe by the display."Yeah, makes sense but...holy shit, Amelia. We gotta get you signed up for a record label or something cause that was smooth. Not even a single slip." Raime says while shaking his head side to side incredulously as he walked to find a medicine shop/stall to discover the functions of the herbs he had gathered while they were deciding on what quest they were willing to take.
Now Entering...



He visibly winced at the sight of the grove. It was a place pull straight out of a nightmare...or from the soulsborne series. "Ok. This place just radiates death but if we stick toge-" He was cut off a second time today by not by Ames, but by their resident catgirl giving the group a two-fingered salute, that might as well have been her flipping them off, as she told them that she'd be doing her own thing before she Leeroy Jenkinsed to God knows where. This time Raime wasn't stunned by awe. He was stupefied that despite that Ari, low leveled as she is, had run off by herself into the jaws of almost certain death.

Alone.

Again.

When he finally managed to regain his ability to move and speak, his palm met with his face as he grimaced. "This must be a Guinness record or something? We didn't even start talking about a plan and it's already fucked sideways." The scout says with an exasperated laugh. Afterward, he looks to the group. "So. We gonna look for her or what?" Using his thumb to gesture to the general direction Ari had run off to.

He would have gone after her but, with the danger that the grove presented to the group as a whole, that would have likely ended with both of them dead. If the search for Ari would even have a chance of success, he would need the whole support of the group.









Sure. I'm up for it.

HP: 300/300 | MP: 315/315 | SP: 330/330



Raime watched wordlessly as his companions set off to do their preparation for their questing for the day. He was a little disappointed that Klein had not made an appearance before the majority of the group had left, but standing in the plaza waiting for him to make an appearance was inefficient and unproductive use of his time. Helping Amulak in obtaining his preferred class was so out of the question, that he didn't even give the notion a second thought. Friend or not, real or fake. The one golden rule he follows above all is to not fuck with karma. It's a mean sonofabitch with big teeth that often bites harder than what God would allow. And child murder was just begging for it to bite you.

Letting out a quiet sigh, he makes a quick message to the party of what he plans to do. Go harvest more herbs from the fields outside the town's walls. Hopefully, no hostile mobs or players would bother him while he was harvesting more helpful consumables...but, just to be safe and quick about it, he'd do this at his maximum running speed of 292.5kmph.

Can't really bother a blur, now can you?










HP: 300/300 | MP: 315/315 | SP: 330/330



Raime stared at everyone's avatars with both shock and awe. Most of them looked so badass with their gear! Though he had to admit that some others were not as cool looking as the rest. He wouldn't be pointing any fingers or saying any names but some folks really just looked like they slapped on whatever thing they found regardless of how unappealing it looked. Regardless they had assembled after someone sending a message for an early morning gaming session. Not that he minded that considering that, during weekends, they only opened during lunchtime and only for half the day. So, in theory, they should have enough hours of play to finish a quest or two before his family needed him to help prepare with the diner.

Though by his count, someone was missing.

"Uh. Does anybody know where Klein is? I'm positive everyone got that notification in Discord, right?" Raime mused as he tried to scan the area for the massive wall of meat they befriended yesterday.










HP: 300/300 | MP: 315/315 | SP: 330/330



Raymond let out a content sigh as he removed his full dive gear and sat up from his bed. He narrowed his eyes as they readjusted to the light level of his room before setting the helmet-like console on the desk. Despite only playing for a handful of hours, the time dilation of the dive gear made it feel like he had been playing for half a day. Though he was rather glad that his body didn't feel any worse for wear despite setting his gameplay at 100% realism. He involuntarily winced as he remembered the pains he experienced while playing with his companions. But, hey. It all worked out in the end. He even managed to help Ames and Amulak raise their levels before logging off and looking for a decent 3d modeling program for cheap. "Yeah...I earned a reward." He says to himself as he leaves his room and makes his way to the 2nd-floor kitchen and opens the fridge to get himself a late-night snack. But no ordinary snack. This was the holy grail of leftovers.

A cold half-eaten slice of pizza.

Just as he was about to savor the greasy slice, he was suddenly interrupted by the destinct sound of someone racking a shotgun. "<Wrong house, asshole.>" Ray immediately raised his hands above his head, sending the cold slice of heaven skyward. "Baba, stop! Its me, Raymond!" There was a brief sound of confusion before the kitchen lights were switched on to reveal a confused elderly man in his late sixties aiming a mean looking shotgun right at Ray's chest. "<Jesus in heaven, boy!> I nearly shot you. I thought you were a burglar like in the news reports." The old man said casually as he unloads the shell and put the gun's safety on. "Nah, Baba. Just me getting a snack. Fuck..." Raymond says exhasperatedly as he lets his arms down and waits for his pulse to return to normal. "<Snacks?>" Ray nods. Immediately, the old man bursts out laughing. "Nearly thirty and still quite the glutton, huh?" The comment causes the younger man's cheeks to redden and look away in embarrasment. "No shame in that, Ray." The old man says as he holds out a fresh slice of cold pizza to him while he takes a bite of his own slice. Unloaded shotgun now resting in the crook of his arm as he gestures for the younger Moreno to participate. Ray replies with a kind smile and takes the offering. Deciding that sharing a late night snack with his grandfather and his shotgun was better than eating alone in the dark.

It was a good night.







The notion of the fighters having to fight an actual bear caused the man to raise a brow in amazement underneath his helmet. With how the drunkard told them, it was a wonder how the fighting ring managed to keep fighters coming. Then again, he'd heard stories of men and women that would go against worse odds back west. The ranger could only grimace at the thought of going against a three-meter tall bipedal dinosaur with razor-sharp claws with only a dagger in hand. There seemed no better options than to participate in the savage and unfair arena-style combat if they wanted to make any progress in the investigation in locating Sandy. "Welp. Time to take the plunge and decide who does what." He looks over to Fera and makes a sound by clicking his tongue, hopefully catching her attention, before gesturing her to participate in the planning.

HP: 180/180 | MP: 189/189 | SP: 198/198



It irritated the scout greatly that he was unable to locate any proper lines of sight to get a shot through, but it was understandable in the chaos of fighting against three individuals at the same instance. Though just as he found an opening, a spear ran through the frogman's body and forced it to collapse. A sense of relief washed over the man but considering how easily it handled them, the amphibious martial artist was likely going on to his next phase. Raime kept his crossbow aimed at its still form and, sure enough, it hopped back up to its feet. Raime was about to pull the weapon's trigger when the creature, seemingly satisfied with what sloppy performance they had shown, just smiles and tosses a token before disappearing just as quickly as it appeared.

Raime was left utterly gobstruck. Despite the vast difference of power between it and them, they still managed to snatch victory in such a bleak situation. The rush of dopamine to his brain as he realized that was beyond rapturous. This rush was beyond any pleasures he'd experienced before. Bold even enough to say that this feeling of attaining victory despite the overwhelming odds was a greater feeling than sex; maybe even better than eating some maple cinnamon rolls after a hard day of working with a warm cup of his favorite tea. God. What a feeling.

The effects of the painkiller herbs were still in effect but the feeling of blood in his eyes was an irritating experience regardless. He holstered his weapon before he crawling towards the river when he overheard Ames talking. "It's only a hunch, but maybe its those talismans you have? I mean both you and Amulak have similar issues but he still levels up sometimes. Maybe because he only has one?" The scout says just as he realized how easy it was for him to articulate words despite having his face caved in. Upon further investigation, he realized that he jumped two levels and had regained all lost HP, MP, SP. Raime thanked God and the devs for that mechanic as he still didn't understand how healing worked other than the white herbs that grew near the river was a natural pain killer. Ames then asked if he wanted some help. "Ah. Thank you for the offer Ames, but I'm fine now." As if to emphasize the point he washes away all his blood staining his face and gargles out the blood inside his mouth before offering the red-haired fighter a winning smile before standing up and reuniting with the rest of the party.

In the meantime, while the party discussed what they wanted to do next, he allocated his points. One point each to his HP, MP, and SP. The remaining ten would be divided between Agi and Dex. Though he decided that once he soft caped them at 60 each, he would focus on developing the rest of his skills so he could be more well-rounded stat wise. But that was for the future Raime to worry about, present Raime was more concerned with finding the faux catgirl and the man who dragged her off. "Finding them would be a good idea. And getting clean would be nice." Raime finishes as he glances down to look at his once pristine grey jinbei, now covered with dirt, grass stains, patches of sweat, and splattered with blood. Mostly his.







In a small non-descript room aboard the vessel, Goose knelt in absolute silence as he prayed and meditated.

Before him was an impromptu altar dedicated to the Emperor...or what he was able to make of his humble belongings. Prayer beads with the symbol of the imperial cult sat atop a small stack of his folded clothes. The smell of incense permeated around the small room, but only barely. Not for the lack of sticks burning but more of the ventilation the ducts that regulated the air and temperature of his room that prevented the smell to persist long. The former guardsman was taught by munitorum priests that quiet prayer and meditation would help alleviate the torment his memories brought him. It helped for the most part, but there were always those nights where his nightmares got the better of him. Perhaps if he doubles the times he sets for meditation and prayer would help? Though as Throne would have it, the still silence of his room was suddenly interrupted by the blaring vox announcement of the Captain. With a mildly irritated sigh, Goose wraps up his meditative prayer. "...the Emperor protects." And with that, Goose casually puts out the lit sticks of incense for future use and returns his clothes back to his footlocker that he kept underneath his bed. The prayer beads stayed with him though, as something to bring him luck and ward away dark energies.

He brings out his maintenance kit from the trunk and begins to oil and lubricate key joints in his bionics and some minor readjustments to screws to ensure smooth movement and proper performance for the next few cycles; Emperor willing. Next was to perform the rites and rituals the gearheads taught them to appease their weapon's individual machine spirits. From carefully oiling all the moving parts of his chainsword to calibrating his hand flamer and laspistol, it was a rather time-consuming process. Though, through diligence and years of repetition, Goose finished all the rites with a little over thirty minutes to spare. He even managed to squeeze in time to do his stretches in full combat gear before he was even needed in the hangars. With nothing else needing to do, he stows away all his unnecessary equipment and heads to the bay where he was to meet his new coworkers and, of course, the Inquisitor too.

HP: 34/160 | MP: 168/168 | SP: 136/176



He would have thanked Klein and Ames for their concern for him but all he could muster while he was chewing the herb was an uneven bob of his head and a weak arm gesture trying to reassure them somewhat. Ames' outburst regarding his settings garnered a rough and strained titter that was rather short-lived as he had to focus on chewing on the herb. He kept chewing for a handful of seconds as the choking pain he felt turned into a feeling of a rather severe case of nasal congestion. Once again, he has been pulled away from the depths of agony by consuming the helpful little herb. Despite it being only temporary relief. He was thankful to have collected the herbs while eating wild corndogs.

Raime stood up from his position and witnessed the party's desperate struggle. Despite the painfully obvious gap in their collective might compared to their opponent's, they still persisted and kept going. Seeing his friends give their one hundred percent and beyond was enough to silence any doubts that whispered in his ear.

Who was he to not give his all while everyone else did? For Chrissake, he was a goddamn Moreno. Persistence and tenacity ran in their fucking blood!

He picks up his crossbow from the bloodied grass and takes an optimal position close enough to the party so the frogman wouldn't single him out again, but not too far for it to have ample time to react to the bolt going over a forty meters a second. The man would also only make opportunity attacks when the frogman is distracted to increase the likelihood of it actually dealing damage and decreasing its chances of dodging or snatching bolt mid-flight even lower.









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