wintersoldier
Noctis
Danyel
Snowdrops
FernStone
Kalas
Shienvien
Fetzen
The Grey DustI should really stop doing this at work when my focus is rather diminished.
I've /actually/ edited now, @Melonhead.
I've /actually/ edited now, @Melonhead.
Tuujaimaa Member
The Saint of Wings / Bread Wizard
STATUS: Boy, you're like a pizza cutter: all edge and no point. 4 yrs ago
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Recent Statuses
4 yrs ago
Current
Boy, you're like a pizza cutter: all edge and no point.
3
likes
4 yrs ago
I think I should write a pithy roleplay about how an expenditure of effort does not entitle you to your perception of an equivalent reward. Anyone know someone who'd be interested?
7
likes
6 yrs ago
Okay, let's be honest for a second here, if we stop the status bar from being edgy angst land it really doesn't have anything going for it except sheer autism.
2
likes
6 yrs ago
Does anyone know where you can get a white trilby embroidered with threatening messages? Asking for a friend.
3
likes
6 yrs ago
My genius truly knows no bounds. Only an intellect as glorious as mine can possibly G3T K1D.
3
likes
Bio
Behold the Terrorists of Valhalla:
Behold the Cavemen of Valhalla:
Behold the Cavemen of Valhalla:
Most Recent Posts
@MelonHead: Edits made!
@Melonhead: If it's cool, I'll just edit to say that I saw /someone/ faintly and just move to the centre. We can duke it out from there.
"You will die if you charge."
When Glyph spoke, most people deigned to listen - her voice was a mixture of gravel and authority, months upon months of not having been used increasing her baritone to levels that most would likely only hear after the most severe hangovers (she saw Bryn and immediately thought that it might have been something she'd experienced), and when a woman on an imposing horse with two crossbows looked down at you and spoke, it was probably for the best to heed her words wisely. Most Hunters had learned that the hard way, choosing to take their limited victories in small skirmishes as genuine experience, and the heady mixture of pride and naivete was something they were often unable to overcome before it was far too late.
She surveyed the unlikely trio with a harsh eye, focusing on each of them in turn, before focusing on Conrad. Her eyes narrowed, to barely visible slits, and the vitriol in the air was almost palpable for a second before she looked onwards, as if he weren't there, staring directly through him. She pointed her crossbow at the tower and gave Cipher a little nudge with her right foot. He stepped forward one pace, Glyph pivoted her upper body around, and brought her crossbow to what remained of the wreckage of the roof. There was normally a satisfying 'click' with gunshots, a bang to let you know that the bullet had been fired and that death was imminent. All Glyph's weapons gave off when the bolt of energy was fired was a brief flash of light, and most often that was followed by an inhuman screech.
The one remaining demon in the building fell to the floor, a hole through its head, and Glyph moved forwards again, strutting past the three Hunters as she sought to leave the building. She was keenly aware of all of their positions, years of experience manifesting as a 'sixth sense', almost, as she left the building. She was sure some of them would have something to say, or something to do, but she was here to teach them one quintessential fact about the hunt: Actions spoke louder than words, and if all they had was talk, the demons would eat them alive. What Bryn had done was brave, yes, but it was also foolish. Those wounds made her slower, and though there were other hunters around, that slowness would one day get her killed. She was not without redeeming qualities - talent could be seen at a glance - but the Hunt was a crucible in which its participants were tempered or reduced to ash. It would be a shame to see a promising newblood fall so early.
The man that she had glared at was familiar. Not because of his face, or his sword, or his deeds - but there was an energy that surrounded him that she knew marked him as being a loose strand in the tapestry of her past: It was the same energy that her own weapons and stilettos produced. Those who were trained in the art of inscribing crystals were very far and very few between - and with her father's disgrace she had imagined that she was the last one participating in the Hunt. To feel that same energy in another person was a little shocking, but it made her more angry than curious - the legacy of the Laurent name was supposed to die with her when she left the capital all those years ago. If it had found a way to continue, investigating it would be her first port of call after this hunt.
When Glyph spoke, most people deigned to listen - her voice was a mixture of gravel and authority, months upon months of not having been used increasing her baritone to levels that most would likely only hear after the most severe hangovers (she saw Bryn and immediately thought that it might have been something she'd experienced), and when a woman on an imposing horse with two crossbows looked down at you and spoke, it was probably for the best to heed her words wisely. Most Hunters had learned that the hard way, choosing to take their limited victories in small skirmishes as genuine experience, and the heady mixture of pride and naivete was something they were often unable to overcome before it was far too late.
She surveyed the unlikely trio with a harsh eye, focusing on each of them in turn, before focusing on Conrad. Her eyes narrowed, to barely visible slits, and the vitriol in the air was almost palpable for a second before she looked onwards, as if he weren't there, staring directly through him. She pointed her crossbow at the tower and gave Cipher a little nudge with her right foot. He stepped forward one pace, Glyph pivoted her upper body around, and brought her crossbow to what remained of the wreckage of the roof. There was normally a satisfying 'click' with gunshots, a bang to let you know that the bullet had been fired and that death was imminent. All Glyph's weapons gave off when the bolt of energy was fired was a brief flash of light, and most often that was followed by an inhuman screech.
The one remaining demon in the building fell to the floor, a hole through its head, and Glyph moved forwards again, strutting past the three Hunters as she sought to leave the building. She was keenly aware of all of their positions, years of experience manifesting as a 'sixth sense', almost, as she left the building. She was sure some of them would have something to say, or something to do, but she was here to teach them one quintessential fact about the hunt: Actions spoke louder than words, and if all they had was talk, the demons would eat them alive. What Bryn had done was brave, yes, but it was also foolish. Those wounds made her slower, and though there were other hunters around, that slowness would one day get her killed. She was not without redeeming qualities - talent could be seen at a glance - but the Hunt was a crucible in which its participants were tempered or reduced to ash. It would be a shame to see a promising newblood fall so early.
The man that she had glared at was familiar. Not because of his face, or his sword, or his deeds - but there was an energy that surrounded him that she knew marked him as being a loose strand in the tapestry of her past: It was the same energy that her own weapons and stilettos produced. Those who were trained in the art of inscribing crystals were very far and very few between - and with her father's disgrace she had imagined that she was the last one participating in the Hunt. To feel that same energy in another person was a little shocking, but it made her more angry than curious - the legacy of the Laurent name was supposed to die with her when she left the capital all those years ago. If it had found a way to continue, investigating it would be her first port of call after this hunt.
Hey - it's a competition. In a friendly fight, we'd have started near each other anyway.
... I should stop posting at work, LOL.
Hey, I have an idea. Let's just relocate to the center of the pillars. :P
Hey, I have an idea. Let's just relocate to the center of the pillars. :P
You came close to me when you stopped by the river, and that's where I'm having this take place? I don't think I misunderstood your positioning there?
Windspeaker Touho elected to prepare another five Symbols of Fuujin before activating her Megumi no Fuujin: Reitekina Yoroi [Grace of the Wind God: Spiritual Armour] technique and jumping down from the tree she had been hidden on, stopping to hover half a foot above the ground. She could cover the distance between where she was and the center of the island (as evidenced by the pillars, if she had to guess) in approximately two to three seconds in this form, and she decided to do so simply because the advantage gained from waiting diminished with each passing second. With no knowledge of her opponent, who know (presumably) had knowledge of at least one of her techniques. She had waited for long enough that she had almost entirely recovered from the loss of energy from having created the hailstorm and felt that she had enough of her strength to adequately fight.
Vigilance was the first tenet of the militaristic mind, and she remained prepared to react to anything that her opponent would do upon her moving and arriving - she would still not make the first outright move, but being stood in the center of the arena as a challenge would likely ensure that she would not have to.
Vigilance was the first tenet of the militaristic mind, and she remained prepared to react to anything that her opponent would do upon her moving and arriving - she would still not make the first outright move, but being stood in the center of the arena as a challenge would likely ensure that she would not have to.
I can't really make it rain so I feel like kissing is out of the question?
If the Hailstorm did not rouse her opponent - she had not seen any movement over the area she was surveying - then Touho would be content to simply wait for it to dissipate over the course of three minute and start the gradual process of regaining her lost energy. Her five remaining Symbols of Fuujin would dissipate over the course of the next three minutes, but that energy would be reabsorbed and she would simply create them again later.
Touho would not make the first move within sight of her opponent unless the situation absolutely demanded that she did - and so she took to waiting in the tree once more. Though many shards of ice would come close to the tree, the Megumi no Fuujin would effortlessly direct them to the sides where they would fall against the floor as the other shards did. If one was particularly observant and able to see Touho, perhaps it would be obvious that something was amiss there, but she doubted that anything could see her in such a position if she could not see it (without being outside of her range of vision - and she had ruled out the possibility of anything being behind her).
The Windspeaker was, as usual, content to think upon the Wind God's will while she surveyed the battlefield for signs of activity from her opponent.
Touho would not make the first move within sight of her opponent unless the situation absolutely demanded that she did - and so she took to waiting in the tree once more. Though many shards of ice would come close to the tree, the Megumi no Fuujin would effortlessly direct them to the sides where they would fall against the floor as the other shards did. If one was particularly observant and able to see Touho, perhaps it would be obvious that something was amiss there, but she doubted that anything could see her in such a position if she could not see it (without being outside of her range of vision - and she had ruled out the possibility of anything being behind her).
The Windspeaker was, as usual, content to think upon the Wind God's will while she surveyed the battlefield for signs of activity from her opponent.
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