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- Joined: 11 yrs ago
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Username history
- Sickle-cell 11 yrs ago
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PlatinumSkink
Status
Recent Statuses
7 yrs ago
Current
How's about no?
2
likes
7 yrs ago
When you go from walking around at 5am like a half shut knife to bouncing out your bed 10 minutes before the alarm goes off within a month of early starts at work. Self-improvement, ho!
4
likes
7 yrs ago
Celebrating the one-month anniversary of my RP starting! 135 IC posts already and still growing. Also still accepting players, so hop on over if you are interested in gritty superheroes. All welcome!
5
likes
7 yrs ago
How to know when your day as a home shopper will be busy - when your boss can't be arsed counting all the orders to pick so he logs the official total as 'mental' :-P
4
likes
7 yrs ago
Best feelings as a GM #1 - Sitting at work cackling because a player has literally set up an amazing plot hook without realising it. *evil chuckle*
11
likes
Bio
Well, where to begin?
I found my love of roleplays through a brief block of sessions of D&D when I screwed up enough and brought an class from an entirely different plane to join the main party. After following the plot to the end - which involved our dwarven pilot flying a gunship while simultaneously controlling 4 cannons by tying string around them - we ended up crashing through a portal onto a different plane. When attempting to formulate a plan, one of the PCs delivered a line that has stayed with me ever since.
"Ask the artificer, he's already done it once."
Since then, I've done a 3+ year RP between two players - using the FATE system - in which we created an entire city through creating mentally unstable characters and callus cold-blooded killers. One particularly nasty NPC came about by a sheer accident, when the melee-build character out-snarked the diplomat. Which was much more fun than it sounds. Had a bad experience with this site before, in which the GM didn't plan far enough ahead to include any NPCs whatsoever, and the other characters had no interest in Player-to-Player interactions outside of their own 2-man group. Needless to say, it died with incredible speed, which was a shame.
But I was tempted back by a friend to play a Pokemon RP despite having no knowledge whatsoever of the topic outside of Gen 1 stuff, and even that was years ago. Despite everything, I've not only been holding my own, but coming up with a completely separate sub-plot from the main plot, and making the GM's life a misery. (Sorry Zan!)
My writing style draws heavily from the likes of Worm and The Dresden Files, which means I can do a great deal of two things. Snark and Escalation. Outside of that, I like to think i'm a dynamic roleplayer, but I prefer sticking to High Fantasy sort of settings. Anything Slice of Life-y doesn't do it for me. Unless i'm slinging magic, psuedo-magic or demons (while snarking at whoever is unlucky enough to warrant it) I feel as though I could be doing something more entertaining with my time. When it comes to RP systems, I enjoy FATE or narrative based things.
My first RP which I am GMing on this site is themed around Dragon Age as carried on from the far superior (in my humble opinion) plot of the first game.
That's pretty much all there is to know about me that people would actually care about. I'll update it as I do with important changes or epic moments. Until then, feel free to PM me if you have questions or invites to stuff, and i'll respond as soon as I can. ^.^
I found my love of roleplays through a brief block of sessions of D&D when I screwed up enough and brought an class from an entirely different plane to join the main party. After following the plot to the end - which involved our dwarven pilot flying a gunship while simultaneously controlling 4 cannons by tying string around them - we ended up crashing through a portal onto a different plane. When attempting to formulate a plan, one of the PCs delivered a line that has stayed with me ever since.
"Ask the artificer, he's already done it once."
Since then, I've done a 3+ year RP between two players - using the FATE system - in which we created an entire city through creating mentally unstable characters and callus cold-blooded killers. One particularly nasty NPC came about by a sheer accident, when the melee-build character out-snarked the diplomat. Which was much more fun than it sounds. Had a bad experience with this site before, in which the GM didn't plan far enough ahead to include any NPCs whatsoever, and the other characters had no interest in Player-to-Player interactions outside of their own 2-man group. Needless to say, it died with incredible speed, which was a shame.
But I was tempted back by a friend to play a Pokemon RP despite having no knowledge whatsoever of the topic outside of Gen 1 stuff, and even that was years ago. Despite everything, I've not only been holding my own, but coming up with a completely separate sub-plot from the main plot, and making the GM's life a misery. (Sorry Zan!)
My writing style draws heavily from the likes of Worm and The Dresden Files, which means I can do a great deal of two things. Snark and Escalation. Outside of that, I like to think i'm a dynamic roleplayer, but I prefer sticking to High Fantasy sort of settings. Anything Slice of Life-y doesn't do it for me. Unless i'm slinging magic, psuedo-magic or demons (while snarking at whoever is unlucky enough to warrant it) I feel as though I could be doing something more entertaining with my time. When it comes to RP systems, I enjoy FATE or narrative based things.
My first RP which I am GMing on this site is themed around Dragon Age as carried on from the far superior (in my humble opinion) plot of the first game.
That's pretty much all there is to know about me that people would actually care about. I'll update it as I do with important changes or epic moments. Until then, feel free to PM me if you have questions or invites to stuff, and i'll respond as soon as I can. ^.^
Most Recent Posts
Indeed, i'll get to work on one for Carson/Melody within the hour.
Sickle-Cell/Donovan
The pair head toward the train station, streets painted beneath the glow of a blood-stained sunset.
“I have no intention of sacrificing my well being, just because you insisted to spin the wheel and it turned up red.” Sickle-Cell sneered, distaste etched across his face.
“This time it’s something as trivial as roulette, but leaving situations of life and death to chance isn’t an acceptable option. I refuse to be dragged through the fire if we don’t have a plan where the outcome will be in our favour. Why someone like you would leave any part of their life undecided amazes me.”
“Because you can’t plan around good fortune and chance. The people who reach the highs in life - the worthwhile places in life - are the same ones who rode the lows at least as many times. Otherwise you’re just stuck with mediocrity, and believe you me, I’d rather take my chances.”
Sickle-Cell snorted abruptly - as though mediocrity was even a possibility worth considering. “Even assuming that were true, I’d still rather control over a mediocre life than one like yours that is rife with uncertainties. In a world where a stray bullet, or small slip can kill you, and me by extension, risks are not something I can allow.
“What part of my life makes you concerned over that?”
“Every moment is a battle for your life, Gambler, especially the way you choose to live it. My whole existence revolves around cancelling that hold chance, luck and fate have over me. Yet you would leave that down to the flip of a coin?” Now, steadily losing his temper.
“Life is a coin-flip - the only thing anyone can do is exploit the good fortune they’re offered. Or are you too scared to accept that?”
“Scared? No. Worried your tendencies will get us into trouble we won’t walk away from? Yes. I do actually intend to see everything this world hides, if you don’t get us both killed by then. I wish you’d actually listen to me.”
“No, you listen,” Donovan growled, unconcerned by the flash of anger in Sickle-Cell’s eyes. “I refuse to live in fear of chance, whatever paranoid delusions you allow to shackle you. I’ve built my life out of opportunities, rolling the dice and biting the bullet - that’s how I take control of my life. Without luck or chance, I wouldn’t have any more chance of seeing the world than you seem to feel you would when you’re burdened by it.”
Inhaling deeply, he continued. “Sometimes you win and you make it big, sometimes you lose and go bust. Life happens. You spend half your existence zig-zagging wildly between the two, never knowing what your next roll of the dice will throw you, but knowing that every passing moment offers you a chance to go big. Does it always happen? Hell no. But you play it smart, plan around what the possibilities and make your own fortune. I’ve never taken a single wager that I couldn’t afford to lose and I didn’t sincerely believe that I could win.”
A wave of disbelief washed over Sickle-Cell. “You would stake your life on those shams of a belief?”
Donovan looked him dead in the eye. “I’ve been doing that every day of my life.”
The two walked in silence for several minutes, Donovan’s words still ringing in Sickle-Cell’s ears. Finally, as the train station loomed into view, Sickle-Cell spoke.
“I can’t really vouch for your methods, Gambler. But I can understand what makes you such a fool.” Despite himself, Sickle-Cell heard a tinge of respect creeping into his voice.
Donovan grinned. “Did I hear a compliment somewhere in that?”
“No,” he said, grinning back. “It was more of a condolence.”
The pair head toward the train station, streets painted beneath the glow of a blood-stained sunset.
“I have no intention of sacrificing my well being, just because you insisted to spin the wheel and it turned up red.” Sickle-Cell sneered, distaste etched across his face.
“This time it’s something as trivial as roulette, but leaving situations of life and death to chance isn’t an acceptable option. I refuse to be dragged through the fire if we don’t have a plan where the outcome will be in our favour. Why someone like you would leave any part of their life undecided amazes me.”
“Because you can’t plan around good fortune and chance. The people who reach the highs in life - the worthwhile places in life - are the same ones who rode the lows at least as many times. Otherwise you’re just stuck with mediocrity, and believe you me, I’d rather take my chances.”
Sickle-Cell snorted abruptly - as though mediocrity was even a possibility worth considering. “Even assuming that were true, I’d still rather control over a mediocre life than one like yours that is rife with uncertainties. In a world where a stray bullet, or small slip can kill you, and me by extension, risks are not something I can allow.
“What part of my life makes you concerned over that?”
“Every moment is a battle for your life, Gambler, especially the way you choose to live it. My whole existence revolves around cancelling that hold chance, luck and fate have over me. Yet you would leave that down to the flip of a coin?” Now, steadily losing his temper.
“Life is a coin-flip - the only thing anyone can do is exploit the good fortune they’re offered. Or are you too scared to accept that?”
“Scared? No. Worried your tendencies will get us into trouble we won’t walk away from? Yes. I do actually intend to see everything this world hides, if you don’t get us both killed by then. I wish you’d actually listen to me.”
“No, you listen,” Donovan growled, unconcerned by the flash of anger in Sickle-Cell’s eyes. “I refuse to live in fear of chance, whatever paranoid delusions you allow to shackle you. I’ve built my life out of opportunities, rolling the dice and biting the bullet - that’s how I take control of my life. Without luck or chance, I wouldn’t have any more chance of seeing the world than you seem to feel you would when you’re burdened by it.”
Inhaling deeply, he continued. “Sometimes you win and you make it big, sometimes you lose and go bust. Life happens. You spend half your existence zig-zagging wildly between the two, never knowing what your next roll of the dice will throw you, but knowing that every passing moment offers you a chance to go big. Does it always happen? Hell no. But you play it smart, plan around what the possibilities and make your own fortune. I’ve never taken a single wager that I couldn’t afford to lose and I didn’t sincerely believe that I could win.”
A wave of disbelief washed over Sickle-Cell. “You would stake your life on those shams of a belief?”
Donovan looked him dead in the eye. “I’ve been doing that every day of my life.”
The two walked in silence for several minutes, Donovan’s words still ringing in Sickle-Cell’s ears. Finally, as the train station loomed into view, Sickle-Cell spoke.
“I can’t really vouch for your methods, Gambler. But I can understand what makes you such a fool.” Despite himself, Sickle-Cell heard a tinge of respect creeping into his voice.
Donovan grinned. “Did I hear a compliment somewhere in that?”
“No,” he said, grinning back. “It was more of a condolence.”
I'll be posting something for him later today, wanted to throw the shadow of Anatiel out as a priority =P
The awkward moments when you leave footnotes in your intro post and only realize it hours later. =P
The rain battered hard on the window, drowned out by the screaming woman in the house.
“What do you mean, you’re leaving me?!”
There it was - that look she had seen so many times before. She watched through the man’s eyes as his wife’s heart shattered before her. She grinned in her head, savouring this moment.
“GET OUT!” she wailed.
The woman slammed the door behind her, leaving Anatiel to saunter down the garden path and into the cold, dark night, leaving his ‘sweetheart’ to sob herself to sleep. Laughter slipped her lips at the thought. As she wandered down the street, passers-by looked up and saw a middle-aged man with dark brown hair. Scruffy clothes, a satchel bag over one arm. Beneath all that? A girl, maybe 22 at a glance, with snow-white hair and a sardonic gleam in her eyes.
“I need a new thrall, now,” she mused. “This one’s all used up.”
Almost skipping, she turned down an alley towards the church; behind her, she heard the splashing of puddles. Glancing casually over one shoulder, she noted the Doll Hunter almost dismissively, then scanned the alleyway for simple retreats. When none offered themselves, a gentle sneer crept across her face.
“You are a difficult woman to track, Anatiel,” the Hunter growled. “At least that much has changed.” His voice echoed with such conviction; far too much for a chance encounter. This Hunter had come after her. Not just any puppeteer, but her.
She was almost flattered.
“You came here with the intent to kill me, Hunter. However, I’m not unreasonable. I’m willing to let this slide, if you go and never give thought to such foolishness again. A mercy, if you will.”
“Is that so?” He brandished his weapon. “I’m afraid you have but your life to barter with. I hold all the cards, if you will”
“On the contrary, I have yours,” she smirked. She could see his eyes flare with anger at that.
“I would never deal with a monster like you.”
She sighed. “I do so deplore leaving a mess.”
The satchel flew open, hundreds of origami doves sprang out and circling Anatiel fiercely. The Hunter’s eyes snapped wipe with fear; not that it made much difference. With a dismissive flick of her wrist, the flock darted towards him and through him, each carving loose a ribbon of flesh as it passed. Once the screaming had finally petered away, she dismantled the flock, leaving all but one neatly folded away in her satchel. The last remained perched on what might have been the Doll Hunter’s torso; a warning to those who had yet to learn better.
“What do you mean, you’re leaving me?!”
There it was - that look she had seen so many times before. She watched through the man’s eyes as his wife’s heart shattered before her. She grinned in her head, savouring this moment.
“GET OUT!” she wailed.
The woman slammed the door behind her, leaving Anatiel to saunter down the garden path and into the cold, dark night, leaving his ‘sweetheart’ to sob herself to sleep. Laughter slipped her lips at the thought. As she wandered down the street, passers-by looked up and saw a middle-aged man with dark brown hair. Scruffy clothes, a satchel bag over one arm. Beneath all that? A girl, maybe 22 at a glance, with snow-white hair and a sardonic gleam in her eyes.
“I need a new thrall, now,” she mused. “This one’s all used up.”
Almost skipping, she turned down an alley towards the church; behind her, she heard the splashing of puddles. Glancing casually over one shoulder, she noted the Doll Hunter almost dismissively, then scanned the alleyway for simple retreats. When none offered themselves, a gentle sneer crept across her face.
“You are a difficult woman to track, Anatiel,” the Hunter growled. “At least that much has changed.” His voice echoed with such conviction; far too much for a chance encounter. This Hunter had come after her. Not just any puppeteer, but her.
She was almost flattered.
“You came here with the intent to kill me, Hunter. However, I’m not unreasonable. I’m willing to let this slide, if you go and never give thought to such foolishness again. A mercy, if you will.”
“Is that so?” He brandished his weapon. “I’m afraid you have but your life to barter with. I hold all the cards, if you will”
“On the contrary, I have yours,” she smirked. She could see his eyes flare with anger at that.
“I would never deal with a monster like you.”
She sighed. “I do so deplore leaving a mess.”
The satchel flew open, hundreds of origami doves sprang out and circling Anatiel fiercely. The Hunter’s eyes snapped wipe with fear; not that it made much difference. With a dismissive flick of her wrist, the flock darted towards him and through him, each carving loose a ribbon of flesh as it passed. Once the screaming had finally petered away, she dismantled the flock, leaving all but one neatly folded away in her satchel. The last remained perched on what might have been the Doll Hunter’s torso; a warning to those who had yet to learn better.
Ursa. they are from what i can gather, but i agree with Minder. What was this life they had like, wherever they were beforehand? Do they remember it?
I'd love to know so i can shape more of the background, but the vagueness is just as useful xD
I'd love to know so i can shape more of the background, but the vagueness is just as useful xD
Think werewolves and vampires.
Jeez, when we threw down the gauntlet, we didn't think you'd need a whole new character to pick it up. =P
Lets just solve this by keeping Melody as far from Yazuko as Dolly possible =P
Sounds good, look forward to reading them =)
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