Status

Recent Statuses

4 yrs ago
Current Masses are always breeding grounds of psychic epidemics.
5 yrs ago
The highest, most decisive experience is to be alone with one's own self. You must be alone to find out what supports you, when you find that you can not support yourself.
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5 yrs ago
One cannot live from anything except what one is.
5 yrs ago
The slave to virtue finds the way as little as the slave to vices.
5 yrs ago
The core of an individual is the mystery of life, which dies when it is 'grasped'. That is also why symbols want to keep their secrets.

Bio

The Harbinger of Ferocity


Agent of the Wild, Aspect of the Ferine
Nature, red in tooth and claw.

"There is, indeed, no single quality of the cat that man could not emulate to his advantage."
- Carl Van Vechten

I am, at my core, a personification and manifestation of those things whose blood and hearts run red with the ferocity of the animal world. It is this which convicts and controls my works, my writing, my being; the force and guidance in which I gain wisdom from. It is what inspires me as a creator and weaver of words, the very thing I admire as an author.

My leanings, savage as they are, are of the feline sort as there exists no greater lineage of beasts whom can be drawn from. No others captivate and motivate my talent and skill as the greatest of cats do.

Most Recent Posts

A tremendously unpopular opinion at this point, so much so that this might start some measure of controversy, but let me be clear I have no desire to change my mind; there is no point in trying to take a stand for it as some might feel compelled to. Let me begin that it seems particularly faddish, in that the only things that remind me of the fascination were other trends of their time that swamped the genre, be them Harry Potter or Twilight, yet is far larger and more widespread than any of those types. More widespread than the fact so many "original characters" were "random", "crazy", or "insane", gods or god-like in power, or wolves or dragons. What is such a thing I find vastly cliche and excessively, unreasonably popular, at least where the greater community is concerned, to the point it might cause argument?

Anime as a fandom in roleplaying is overdone.

Not just overdone but vastly overrepresented to the point I admit I roll my eyes whenever I see a quasi-serious or more realistic topic suddenly have a character submitted to it from the archetype, usually the giveaway being the face claimed artwork. Alternatively, when lacking thereof, exaggerated hair color or bizarrely named abilities or talents. For obvious reasons this is expected in the associated topics, i.e. fandom topics, although it is so pervasive it consistently appears in genres outside itself and relies heavily on tropes. Not that I bothered counting the amount, I merely note there is no shortage of "magical girl of suspiciously young age", "shy guy who is bad at things", "angst ridden youth with powers and or sword", "evil demon child often with doll or toy", and related. While I am aware these stock characters exist for a reason in the greater application of the genre, being crucial to some extent there, I find it terribly banal where roleplaying is concerned.

Now the the question of course here is why do I take issue with this beyond the obvious and for myself that lies in the fact I play the to-earth manner. That is to say I prefer my characters and topics to simultaneously be "as-if" and worlds much like our own, with obvious changes to accommodate their inherent breaks from realism. Without prattling on, it upsets the suspension of disbelief and going on the mental journey to imagine the events; a reason I prefer roleplays sans pictures as a whole. However, it is not so limited in my experience. Stock characters are, just as one would expect them to be, hardly interesting or original, and it makes it harder still to interact with them when they are often as exaggerated as they are either by the design of their player or by merely copying from only what they know in the source inspiration.

Granted I have been doing this for some time, a couple of decades, so I believe I have a fair idea of what gets turned into tropes and people tend to skew toward, I am also particularly jaded. No less, before it gets brought up, for reasons I myself still am looking into I do tend to be innately opposed to whatever is trendy at the time; it always seems shallow to me, et cetera. Regardless, relic of the past or not, I still find it overrepresented and commonplace to the point its veneer has worn off. People are free to like whatever they like but in roleplaying keeping it topic and genre appropriate needs be valued much more. There is a time and place for everything.
I long for the day a mainstream or major title release allows a playable large felid. There are very, very few examples of it that I can name, with the majority that do in part exist, which is not many mind you, almost exclusively being the lesser cats. Or worse, the portrayal is neotinized and made into a cutesy experience, diluting the entire thing. Something more personal and savage would be far more interesting.
I will gladly take an effectively free round of combat, a something, over the absence thereof. Particularly in this case as the enemy had such a high initiative that this almost wholly negates their going first. In essence they are now at the "bottom" of the order despite their exceptional roll.
To arms again at last, what a welcome thing that is! This in mind, @Gordian Nought, we require our addled sailor.
As quick as he had come, the stranger was off like a shot with little more than another notice. Theron, in the meantime, took his own time in departing if only because two men leaving very suddenly right after one another was more than a bit suspicious. They might have came together, living scrapheap in tow, but the delay was more important at this point. After all for someone who wasn't directly linked to Davidson, this wasn't nearly as personal as it was for his brief cohort, who he still knew little actual about.

Theron shot a glance down to Golemeth, "Sorry friend, you need your rest."

The body before him seized briefly in what was bottled rage as the standing figure's fingers plied the plugs from the ports. The entire system deadlined in connection while the cyborg shuddered and soon went to the uncomfortably glazed stare someone with not enough processing power had. Theron couldn't stand the awkwardness of it and flicked the other's eyes shut with his fingers before bothering to close up the wrist mounted display, reattaching his own vitals. Unlike his mechanical counterpart, Theron wasn't lit up with glowing bits or shiny metal, and the bracelet that monitored his life was a wholly external thing... with a few more features that he knew existed earlier. Apparently it was pretty much a more useful little trinket than he thought and that amused him.

It was always a question of his why anyone would wedge so much cyber into themselves to well, end up a drooling mess like Golemeth if it went bad. People like Tracy confirmed that further, someone with as much knowledge as that and how to exploit vulnerabilities in hardware and software alike? It made him shudder as he tucked each piece back together and replaced the plate. On cue, the system was back to ready to read and with hard reset now to soft reset, it was as good as new. Theron tinkered with it a bit until he got the soft blue fringe ambient glow back to his coat, bits of the lighting not wanting to cooperate after being sheered off in the earlier shootout and panic of a rolling street battle.

That would be comped, anything lost or broken in the field generally was, assuming it was made worth it. And this all? This seemed pretty well worth it, but hey, who knew, right? So what came next, after straightening himself out fully in the mirror, be that brushing those last bits of pulverized concrete out of his hair or wiping down the shades, was getting Golemeth out. He removed the last bits of what was hanging loose, other than the wiring and harness that was a spiderweb of tangles, to hell with figuring those out, he'd let some tech junkie figure them out again, and crouched to shift the weight of his capture back on to a shoulder.

It all went so well that the impending bad news was nagging Theron at any moment as he hauled off with surprising subtlety down the stairwell and off out to the street. One arm slung over Golemeth, the man peered left and he peered right. It was as empty as expected to be and he wasted no time getting that terminal up and at'em with a few quick jabs on the brutalized board. Pecking away at the keys with the free hand, he paused now and then to shoot a glance here and there until he finished sending the signal.
Brannor is on initiative count 6, @Hekazu.
Either this coming evening or the next there should be some interaction made available if desired, @Terminal. Even if not, things will move along there, at least where this one corporation is concerned.
"Of all God's creatures, there is only one that cannot be made slave of the leash. That one is the cat. If man could be crossed with the cat it would improve the man, but it would deteriorate the cat."
Mark Twain
I love biology.


The life sciences and natural history are my own particular pursuits, although I must admit I find the microbiology sciences a bit grating. Chemistry, despite obviously delving into biochemistry, feels too different and disjointed from the rest, with some odd obsessions about reducing life down to inorganic existence. Macrobiology I am far more sympathetic to as it, to the surprise of none, feels far larger and more interactive.
I am not seeing how this is an issue. Live a silent hero, die a silent hero, @Sewer Rat.

Regardless, you have been sent to the gulag, yet instead it is the idealized memetic, perfect communist utopia that has invaded the minds of internet goers like a virus. You suffer a life of being blasted with falsified niceties and burning bright rainbow patterns whilst doing hard labor, being starved, beaten, and tortured, locked forever away even after your psyche has broken, with only the grace of time coming to collect on you when your hourglass' sand has run out.

I wish for no wishes.
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