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8 mos ago
Current Some of y'all are either too old to act the way you act, or too young to be taken seriously. Hard to tell some days.
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It was truly a pleasure writing with you all. As my close friends can attest, I talked about the writing here all the time. I'm going to miss Rory, who was a breath of fresh air for me for a while. But most of all, I'm going to miss the OG crew here and the constant delight everyone took in new posts dropping.

Team Blackjack for ljfe.


Posting this one more time in case it was missed the first two times. Otherwise I'll move on.

@VitaVitaAR



EDIT: Finished




@VitaVitaAR
Forgot to tag you, but this is ready for review.
EDIT: Finished





Finally finished the Pilot portion. It's all ready for review.
EDIT: Finished



S N O W I N G T I M B E R
S N O W I N G T I M B E R

“There's a comfort in knowing everything leaves tracks: it means they're moving forward.”
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
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C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
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Snowing Timber is an archetypal hunter, a nimble ranger of the woods of the realm.

He was one of the unadopted survivors, but a loyal protector of those he considered dear. Remaining one of the youngest at the age of 18, Timber has had little else to rely on than his bow, some arrows, and his trusted wolf companion Ardie. Timber's greatest strength is his speed, agility, and his perceptiveness.

In his time mostly alone and living off the land, Timber has grown superstitious and weary of strangers and civilization. As much as Timber looks forward to seeing his friends once again for a reunion, part of him hopes to be the only one sitting at the Lying Wolverine: for their sakes, he's hoped they've all moved on by now.

Personality Traits of Note: Altruistic, Superstitious, Introverted, Kind, Spiritual, Wise
C H I L D H O O D I N A R D E N F E L D
C H I L D H O O D I N A R D E N F E L D
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Snowing Timber was born a member of the Snowing Forest family eighteen years ago.

He was born the only son of two of the village's hunters, Shadow and Cloud. What Timber remembers of his parents has always been positive: Shadow was a serious huntress who stalked big game, while Cloud was content with setting traps to catch plenty of smaller game that wandered near the village in hope of feasting on local produce. Their occupations left them away from the home more often than Timber would have liked, and Timber naturally spent more time with his father checking and setting traps than out deeper in the woods with his mother. He grew to love the forests that his family spent so much time in when he was young.

As Timber grew, he had no trouble making friends. He was naïve, but loyal to those who called him a friend. He would do anything to make sure to keep a smile on the faces of those around him. He would scrounge up various berries when out with his father to bring back as little gifts, and would try to take the blame if one of his friends got in trouble for doing something they weren't supposed to. Life was... simple, then.

Timber knew something was wrong the day of the attack. His mother had never returned from her hunt, and his father had left in a hurry to go look for her. His last memory of his father was watching the tall, lanky white Tabaxi press his forehead against Timber's, before rushing out the door. Hours later, Timber's coat was covered in ash and his lungs were full of smoke. He should have died, but was lucky to be ushered to safety by some of the older kids in the village.

L I F E A T T H E O R P H A N A G E
L I F E A T T H E O R P H A N A G E
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Timber was never adopted from the orphanage.

He couldn't really blame them. He was a scrawny, weak kid. The attack on Ardenfeld left him timid and unsociable to strangers. The last strange adults he had seen took everything from him. The only ones he was close with were his friends. Any time any of them acted up, Timber was the first to rush in and take the blame. The staff believed him to be just another unlovable burden, and they never bothered to notice that his bad behavior suddenly stopped when the last of his fellow survivors left the orphanage. Timber had to just sit and watch as one by one the only "family" of his that was still alive had left him. As much as he wants them to be happy, part of Timber can't help but feel abandoned by the survivors of Ardenfeld.

At the age of fourteen, Snowing Timber left the orphanage and the city of Sarinan. He had no destination in mind.

O N W A R D: A N E W P A T H
O N W A R D: A N E W P A T H
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After leaving the orphanage, Snowing Timber wandered for some time. He is still unclear if it was days, months, or years he spent on his own. He was able to catch small game here and there, setting rudimentary traps like his father had shown him as a child. He was clinging to life by a thread each and every day, scrambling to survive on his own. As much as he wanted to just give up, something deep down inside of him refused to surrender to the elements and hunger that assaulted him day and night.

One day, however, Timber stumbled upon a dying fire in a small clearing. Hanging from sticks over the dying flames was a cooked rabbit, though Timber saw no other signs of camp in the clearing. He didn't care if he was delusional, he was pleased to have a meal. He had eaten so fast an onlooker would have thought he had swallowed the meal whole without so much as chewing. Once he had finished a meal, he heard a rustling in the branches of the trees above. Sitting upon a sturdy branch with a bow in hand in the trees above was an older human with a greying beard and wispy hair. The man introduced himself as Dain, a hunter of game. Dain offered to let Timber accompany him hunting, so long as the tabaxi would assist where able. For Dain, Timber was a chance to pass on his skills before he grew too old to hunt on his own. For Timber, this was an opportunity to truly learn the skills his parents were never able to pass down.

For the first year of their partnership, Timber had already managed to refine some of the smaller habits of hunting. He was a brilliant cook of game, and had an eye for using small regional herbs to help accentuate the flavor of whatever the two caught that day. He was excellent at setting small traps, climbing trees, and spotting game before even Dain's trained eyes could track their movement. Dain spent some of this time beginning to teach Timber the art of archery, and he caught on rather quick. The two would stop into a local city or the capital once every few months, selling a collection of hides and various preserved animal parts for coin. Timber used the few times they were in the city to ask around and keep tabs on his fellow survivors. He was able to piece together the location of perhaps half of his old friends, discreetly checking in from afar to make sure they were ok. For Timber's fifteenth birthday, Dain made a special stop in the capital to purchase Timber his very own bow.

After that, their partnership was rather short lived. Dain was getting older in years, and decided to settle down back in Sarinan. He made the offer for Timber to join, but they both knew what living in the city was for men like them: prison. Timber felt uncomfortable whenever he slept in a bed, movement restricted by four walls and a roof. So, Timber ended up right where he started: he was alone again at the age of 16. Timber continued to make his living in the woods, felling game and exchanging various skins and hides for goods. For the first time in a long time, Timber felt at peace... but deep down, he had never truly healed.

A year ago, Timber received an omen. He found himself the target of a few wolves, which he was able to fell with great difficulty. When the fight was over, all the was left was a single wolf cub pawing at it's dead mother. It looked at Timber with great fear. For a moment, something inside of Timber clicked: The anniversary was a year out, the date promised to be the beginning of their quest for vengeance. But that anger and hatred was gone from Timber's heart. He fed and nurtured the wolf pup, raising it to be his own. He named the pup "Ardie" after the town he was born in. Ardie has grown to be a fine hunter in his own right, and a loyal companion to Timber.






Kenichi couldn't recall a time he had ever joined Oyuki on a walk through the village... or anyone, for that matter, in some time. Except for the occasional excursion when Fumiko would practically drag him out of the house to make sure he got some sun, Kenichi didn't spend much time with anyone who wasn't under his family's care. It was nice to just walk and talk... though, even Kenichi could tell the conversations were dying out quickly. His responses to Oyuki's attempts at small talk were efficient. Talk of the weather and the festival didn't elicit much from the physician's assistant: it was cold, and he didn't have any plans for the festival. He knew, with each curt response, that he must be souring the mood for her. He hadn't prepared to talk much... and besides, his mind was still winding through the cryptic purpose to their business. Whatever this business was, it had to be of some import.

Oyuki had apologized several times, which Kenichi always batted away with a simple "This is no trouble at all." But as she apologized a third time in front of the elder's manor, he took a step towards her and held her gaze, maneuvering himself to make eye contact. "Lady Oyuki, I am happy to provide assistance or insight if I am able. What you have asked of me is no trouble." He gave a soft, reassuring smile, before his ears picked up on approaching footsteps.

Kenichi's eyes locked on to the familiar dark hair of Chiasa, the tinkerer's apprentice, as she approached. Her expression was even, as always, and Kenichi's smile dropped to match the gravity by which she carried herself. He straightened himself up a little, taking a step away from Lady Oyuki and clearing his throat awkwardly. The elder's son was taking his time. Kenichi gave a short, polite bow of greeting as Chiasa approached. "Ah, good morning... do you have business with Elder Takamori as well, Fujiwara?"


Tags: @Feyblue


Kenichi's eyes widened as Oyuki's hood slid back. He felt what he swore could be a heart palpitation as she stared at him with her piercing blue eyes. He hoped he could pass off his bright red cheeks as just a byproduct of the cold, or him being startled and falling moments ago. He couldn't quite grasp at the feelings that boiled in his chest in that tiny moment. He had a suspicion, one Fumiko had teased him over before whenever he spoke of Lady Oyuki. He was too overwhelmed to make heads or tails of it in that moment regardless. But as the shrine maiden spoke, Kenichi regained his senses and composure. "Masaki-sensei, I'm terribly sorry for asking this so suddenly -- especially when you've already come all this way for my sake, but... truth be told, there is an important matter I need to attend to, and though it shames me to admit it... I believe my own skills may be inadequate to resolve it. Would you be willing to spare some time to accompany me into town?"

Her words were too focused and intense for him to grow distracted. There was an urgency that did worry him slightly... though also a relief. Kenichi's mother had urged the boy to go out and do something, anything other than continue festering at home studying his notes and diagrams any further. Though, he also knew Fumiko was almost certainly going to be rushing around, making preparations for the festival. Kenichi was too slow and far too weak to be of any real help, and the last thing he wanted was to burden his only real friend. Though, this self-deprecation worried Kenichi for a moment in regards to what Lady Oyuki could possibly ask of him. Certainly she wouldn't bring him along expecting him to do heavy lifting, right? She could probably manage better than he could. No... it certainly was something of a different sort. Something that would require a physician's opinion, perhaps? Besides... he was going to head back to the village proper anyways. The least he could do is accompany her.

Kenichi gave a short nod of his head, checking the fastens of his satchel and readjusting the grip on his cane. "Of course... I would be happy to accompany you, Lady Oyuki. Lead the way, and I will assist however I can." He turned on his heels, facing down the steps from the shrine and towards the village, waiting for her to guide their errand.
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