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  • Old Guild Username: Spade
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    1. Spade 11 yrs ago
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Bio

Avi - "Swordtember" Sketch by @BeckyCloonan

LA area roleplayer and writer. Currently going to school for a degree in English, I'm usually here to practice the more creative elements of my writing since schoolwork can be so dull.

Most Recent Posts

Swarley said
I've been listening to a lot of Hip-Hop I've never listened to before this weekend. MF Doom, Madvillian, A Tribe Called Quest, Ol' Dirty Bastard's solo stuff, and Black Star right now. I think it's just summer that makes me want to listen to hip-hop, I dunno I just have some connection with that genre and summer. I've liked everything I listened to this weekend though, which is good.


Duuuuuuude. Yes.
Doom forever, Tribe forever. Dirty, forever.

Went to my local comic expo today and had a bit of fun.





Anyone in the Los Angeles area wanna do Comikaze this year? I think a meetup sounds pretty cool.


On repeat forever.
In Avan-Sol 10 yrs ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
She had a hard time getting it, and he wasn't sure why. Perhaps she was just too caught up in finding Ulrich, but Damien wouldn't be able to help as much as he could if she kept on keeping him in the dark the way she was. Even after he was jumped in the room, they had to butt heads and argue like always. It wasn't about that though, because if you watched them, you could see the tired looks in their eyes. Their fierce gazes were emotionally exhausted and all of the disagreeing really began to take it's toll on the both of them. They didn't like arguing, but the history, the emotions. They weren't in sync with each other anymore, at least not gracefully. The air was tense, I mean, she had a freaking gun in her hand and as they shouted back and forth she waved it around a few times causing Tyrus to flinch and move about the space in between them. Even Dirk got tired of all the shouting and left the room. Tyrus cocked an eyebrow and prepared his retort to the butter knife remark, but was instantly cut off. These two were going at it, and it was only going to get worse and worse and that was very visible.

Tyrus, not knowing what else to do, sheathed his sword and walked over to the duffle bag, ready to grab it and leave as soon as Damien got the go ahead. Moments later Selene walked in with a bags of groceries right into the ensuing verbal chaos. Letting out a deep sigh, she calmly walked over to the kitchen area, stopping by the bathroom and seeing the unconscious, one armed goon that Damien had disposed of and letting out a drawn out sigh. Tyrus recognized her right away, Selene and he were initiated in the same group and were she not a traitor. Tyrus's brow lowered in anger as he walked over to Selene, ready to address the traitor that turned her back on the Tigers but before he could spout a word, Selene effortlessly drew a small knife from her waistline and threw it down at his feet, stopping him in his tracks. Tyrus flinched slightly, but kicked it away from him as he reached for his sword. Selene gave him a calm look of 'now is not the fucking time'.

"Tyrus, I know how you feel, but no, just don't, ok?" she spoke, taking out all of the fixings for a hearty breakfast as Damien and Helen continued to have it out, going over things that happened in the past, Lua, Ulrich, kidnapping him. They were all over the place, it wasn't pretty. Selene finally got in between the two of them and put her foot down, calmly taking a deep breath before unleashing hell. "Give it a fucking rest already you two!" she shouted, throwing her hands up in annoyance, instantly shutting them the both up. Tyrus's eyes widened at her bravery, "By the Gods above and below it's like listening to an old couple on the stoops of Brooklyn the way you two are! It's way too early for this so spare the rest of us would you?" She snatched the gun from Helen and turned the safety on before tossing it aside, "Now have some fucking respect for Gaia, both of you, sit the fuck down and wait for breakfast!" she ordered,

"As a matter of fact, Helen, give me a hand so you two don't claw at each other at the fucking table." she finished, before turning her form to match Helen's perfectly, turning over to face her. "Oh look at me! I hate my ex but I need his help! Let me make this hard for everyone so they can't get any peace and quiet around here!" she yelled at Helen before turning back to herself and then into Damien, turning to face him, making a dopey face and prancing around him like an idiot, "Is someone trying to go on with their life without feeling eternal guilt? Well herdy gerdy gerr I better fucking do something about that shouldn't I? My brother's missing but I just wanna argue and look cool and shit!" she finished, returning to her true form as she caught her breath from all of the yelling, looking back and forth between the both of them. Damien opened his mouth but Selene immediately stopped him, "Don't even think about it tough guy, if you wanna be difficult I can hit you with the sleepy stuff we got you with earlier, okay?" There was silence, a lot of looking around and finally compliance.

Damien sat down at the decadent small table and cooled off while Tyrus took the seat across from him and they sat their patiently. As breakfast came into fruition, Tyrus and Damien looked at each other with guilty eagerness, they knew it would be the best meal they had in a while. Sure they had decent food, gnome's were expert butchers, Orcs were masters of open pit grilling and elves were the best bakers in the city, but they never had the resources for such a thing, at least not in a long time. Damien and the guys used to go all over the city, picking up meat and fruit and bread and such for huge cookouts they had every few weeks, but recently, they were too busy for anything like that. Four meals a day wasn't bad, and the food was decent, but c'mon, if you caught a smell of that breakfast after what they'd been eating for the last couple of months and you would understand. Their stomachs rumbled in anticipation and the overall mood in the room mellowed out. It was time to get to work and that's what they all wanted, for Ulrich's sake. They were becoming a team, finally.

"I'm just saying, how do you explain what happened earlier if you have someone in the government keeping tabs on you? If she wants something from you, she has to protect you to a certain extent, and those goons weren't here to protect you, that's fact." he explained, rolling a waffle up and dipping it in maple syrup, letting out an audible 'mmmh' as he bit into it and chewed.

"Damien, do not trust these fockin' politicians. They'll stab you in the back, sell the knife to the highest bitta', fock, this is delicious." Tyrus exclaimed, talking while he chewed on pancakes and berries. Damien snatched another piece of bacon from his plate, prompting Tyrus to set his utensils down and stand up out of his seat. Puffing his chest up, Tryus raised a fist at his leader, "You are a good man O'Shalna, but I'll not stand by whilst you snatch me fockin' bacon again! You wanna go, little duckie? I'll have you feeding me bacon in no toime!" he threatened to no avail, before Damien could respond, Selene placed a new plate of bacon on the table and threw a soft biscuit at his head to get his attention. Tyrus sat back down, he and Damien reaching out to see who could grab the most. Breaking the tension with laughter, the two continued enjoying their feast and conversing until Damien caught Dirk's gaze in the corner of his eye.

"What?"
"Nothing...nothing at all, slim."

Tyrus bubbled up with laughter, bits of bacon shooting from his mouth onto his plate, getting up again and walking over to Dirk's seat, grabbing Dirk's upper arm and giving it a wiggle, a large smirk on his face the whole time. "Slim eh? You're not so built yourself, duckie. Fockin' pile of twigs eh? I've seen bigger pixies! Fockin' Selene's got better arms than you lad, and she's been liftin' waffles all mornin'!" Selene threw another biscuit to shut him up, but he caught this one and took a big bite out of it. Dirk looked down at his plate, trying to do his best to ignore the little gnome, but it was proving very difficult. "Look at you, fockin' dainty little-"

"Tyrus." Damien barked. The gnome stopped and looked at his captain, "Give it a rest man, he's had enough."

Tyrus shrugged and laughed, walking back to his seat as he spotted the Blue Lion on the floor, biting his lip and punting it across the room like a damn bullet. The orb thudded into the wall and slammed onto the floor, still. It suddenly hissed opened, a panel lifting out of the smooth orb's surface and shooting a projection to the far wall. Damien got up, "Dim lights, windows at full tint, no light." he ordered, the room complied in an instant. He walked over to the orb and rotated it so the projection would display clearly on the nearby wall. One by one, the messages played, things were about to get real serious, very fast.
Lozen said
My hair has been pink for a long time now >.>


Looks really good!
In Avan-Sol 10 yrs ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
Just wanted to make a quick post regarding Tyrus' Gnomish accent. When I think Tyrus, I totally think of Sharlto Copley's Kruger from Elysium. Now he's not homicidal like the character of Kruger, but the intensity and craziness in his voice is what I want to emphasize. Not all gnomes have this accent, Windsor the scientist is very much well spoken and New York, but Tyrus comes from a traditional kind of rural gnome family, which are few and far between.

Here's a shitty video so you can listen in on what I want him to sound like,

In Avan-Sol 10 yrs ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
I lift my hands up high for another night
Cause I lost my wings and I need to fly


It was horrible. A gut wrenching, terrifying experience that would shake Damien to his core. Nothing would be the same moving forward, and the worst effects were yet to be felt. Fucking Boston, I swear. You never swing on a 3-1 pitch, it's just common sense and the series which had come to a head was over in a meager 6-4-3 double play, what a shame, what a damn shame. The Bronx Bombers would lose their first place spot in the division to Boston moving forward. Like a general in deep war room pondering, Damien's mind flustered at what it would mean in the post season. If the Yankees had to face Baltimore in the first series, Damien's day would be ruined. The young Tiger did his best to pace around the room and try and get a grip on what was going on and what the day would bring, but he was still very much in the dark. Not to mention, the thought of the Yankees losing to the Orioles in the post was a darkening cloud over his head.

In the grand scheme of things, there was no point to being flustered over baseball while trying to rescue your brother, clearly, but you try telling that to anyone from the Bronx. Where the fuck was Helen? What was the point of staying at the Ritz? She always liked to let Damien sleep and would disappear in the morning, maybe for a walk or something since she always wined about his snoring. It didn't seem so bad to him. Suddenly, an ominous knock on the door. Damien approached the door casually until another knock shook the door. Someone huge was on the other side and he approached cautiously, quietly, listening for any chatter in the hallway but there was nothing, just silence before more jolting knocks. Damien slowly approached the peephole and peered through. Letting out a deep breath, Damien rolled his eyes and opened the door. Dirk stood naively, chewing on a breakfast roll.

"Morning! Yanks lost, too bad huh?" Dirk exclaimed, mouth full and smiling. Damien stared at Dirk with indifference, offering nothing in return but chilling silence. The sound of Dirk's chewing sprinkling plenty of awkwardness between the two, Damien finally reached out and slapped the roll right out of Dirk's hand, trying not to crack a smile as the roll humorously thudded on the carpet and Dirk stood like a shocked old lady. The two stood staring at each other, Dirk's jaw dropped in offended shock, his integrity was surely assaulted, yeah right. Damien gave him a playful slap on the cheek and pointed back to his room before Dirk could say anything else. Shutting the door on the weirdo, Damien focused on the intricacies of the room, waving the TV over and ordering the room to "clear windows, city view with light tint, non polarized." the windows beeped in accordance and the rain forest flashed away as skyscrapers and traffic became visible, warm sun beaming through and revitalizing him with it's warmth, Gaia was kind in the morning.

Suddenly, another knock on the door, this one slower and more gentle. Dirk was probably crying and wanted to apologize for interrupting or something, whatever. Damien was determined to ignore the knocks until he decided to kick rocks back to his door, at least until Helen came back because he really wasn't in the mood to deal with him. Knocking again, this time with more urgency, Damien stood stubbornly at the window, looking out at the cars and people that walked to their office jobs and train stations and what not, what a mesmerizing sight. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. Damien couldn't help his serene moment ruined by the obnoxious knocks. Shaking his head frustrated, he beamed to the door, muttering under his breath "fucking Boston wins and I have to baby sit this fuckin-" and as he opened the door he was greeted with a fist straight to his face, sending him flying back through a table.

Two hulking bellmen walk inside and shut the door behind them, silent and stoic, one of them ceremoniously cracking his knuckles as the other walks over to Damien and lifts him back on his feet with ease. Damien, still seeing stars from the blow tried to grab the guys wrist and twist it but the guy was just too damn huge and strong. With one hand, bellman 1 lifted Damien off of his feet while the other walked over and delivered a haymaker to his stomach. The power blows were a familiar feeling, bionic limbs, synthetically engineered to be stronger and more durable. Surgically attached and highly effective (clearly) they were popular among career tough guys and thugs. The two silently nodded to each other before giving Damien a few more blows and tossing him against the window, it's button being pressed on impact and hissing open. The lightbulb over their heads was almost visible as they walked over to his limp body, figuring they could just toss him out of the window and call it a day.

Two days, two proper beatings. Damien hoped this wouldn't become a habit as he began to change forms. Across the way, Tyrus prepared the care package the scout drone brought back from camp, watching from a nearby rooftop after determining his location in the hotel the night before. The bellman rushed Damien, jumping on top of him. Thoughts of Helen in danger hastened the process and Tiger Damien threw the thugs off of him, his hulking form springing to it's feet as he was rushed again by the both of them. Damien crouched low and launched one of the thugs clear through the open window, sending him flying in the distance where he would eventually land on MTA tracks, getting splattered between two trains shooting in opposite directions. Meanwhile, the other was subdued in a submission hold, Damien's wrestling prowess on display as he held the bellman in position and pulled with everything he had until one of his metal arms began to give, slowly tearing from his body.

Damien stopped at the sight of blood, knowing that if he ripped of the entire arm it would surely kill the guy, who had passed out from the pain. The hulking tiger form carried the large body over his shoulder and plopped him on the bathroom floor, his ears picking up the sound of the door opening and Helen's heavy breathing. He turned the corner and calmed himself, his heartbeat slowing enough for him to trigger his transformation back. It was something Liara taught him. The two exchanged words but were interrupted when Tyrus' scout drone buzzed in through the window, Tryus hanging on firmly before letting go and rolling safely into the room, tossing a duffel bag onto the bed and walking in between Damien and the armed Helen.

"Damien, care package from Tigerland on the bed, step aside I got this." he barked, drawing his sword, which was actually just the size of a large kitchen knife, maybe a machete. He pointed it at Helen's gun, ready to take a bullet for his leader, "Why don't you put the shooter down, me duckie. You might get hurt, eh?" he spoke in his thick Gnomish accent. Damien stood, hands on his hips as he caught his breath, pointing a confused yet angry finger at Helen.

"You have 2 minutes to tell me what the fuck is going on, or I'm out of here to find UIrich on my own, my way. Leaving you and yours to deal with anyone you might have pissed off. You understand me, Helen?"
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