@dragonmancer @Wizardgirl
I'm waiting to post until I know how rooms are working; I don't want to give out false information IC.
I'm waiting to post until I know how rooms are working; I don't want to give out false information IC.
Whimsley Member
Duke of Whims
- Last Seen: 8 yrs ago
- Joined: 9 yrs ago
- Posts: 378 (0.12 / day)
- VMs: 0
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Username history
- Whimsley 9 yrs ago
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Most Recent Posts
Name: Indigo Samson
Description: Indigo stands tall at 6' 4", with square, black lenses and hair so dark it almost has a blue tinge to it.
Age: 22
Personality: Indigo is a tactician above all else, mentally plotting out conversation, battles, and everyday life tasks alike. His observational way of thinking has kept him and his pokémon safe from the Regime, though it has cost him some of his humanity at times. Up to this point, he has not risked his own skin for the life of strangers. He fears capture or worse if he were to attempt to save another's life from the Regime. More importantly, he may lose Maximilian if he isn't careful. He regrets the decisions to remain unseen when strangers were being held captive by the Regime, but remains vigilant to his code in order to continue fighting. He is often kinder to pokémon than he is to people, feeding rations to estranged or wild pokémon from the palm of his hand. Given he had the supplies and time, he would like to establish a pokémon ranch far into the country, away from the struggle of the times. But he regretfully realizes this is a dream that will likely never be in his lifetime. Perhaps he can make that future possible, though, through his actions. Indigo stands stalwart in the face of the oppressive Regime, and would never bow to them under any circumstance.
Background: Indigo knew little of the ways of pokémon by the time he set out on his adventure, only one pokéball in his possession and a belief that if he weren't to stand, the Regime would march over not only every revel but every person in the land. The town he grew up in was forced to bow down; Indigo was only able to steal a pokéball through sheer luck and inattentiveness of a rookie guard. Now he strides onward driven, a single pokémon in his possession, a more powerful ally than any he could hope for. Indigo insists on keeping Maximilian within his only pokéball to protect him from surprise attacks by the Regime.
Pokemon Name and Nickname if applicable: Nidoran♂, nicknamed Maximilian
Pokemon Background: Maximilian was in the back of a Regime convoy when he was discovered: caged, malnourished, but still friendly to the young, approaching Indigo. He was the product of a ruthless yet inattentive officer squadron. Indigo quietly undid the hinges of the cage as the guards had made a stop, and the Nidoran♂ willfully leapt into Indigo's arms. Upon their escape, their bond was eternal, and the two have usurped the Regime's tactics to this day. Where Indigo is the brains, Maximilian is the brawn.
Other: N/A
Description: Indigo stands tall at 6' 4", with square, black lenses and hair so dark it almost has a blue tinge to it.
Age: 22
Personality: Indigo is a tactician above all else, mentally plotting out conversation, battles, and everyday life tasks alike. His observational way of thinking has kept him and his pokémon safe from the Regime, though it has cost him some of his humanity at times. Up to this point, he has not risked his own skin for the life of strangers. He fears capture or worse if he were to attempt to save another's life from the Regime. More importantly, he may lose Maximilian if he isn't careful. He regrets the decisions to remain unseen when strangers were being held captive by the Regime, but remains vigilant to his code in order to continue fighting. He is often kinder to pokémon than he is to people, feeding rations to estranged or wild pokémon from the palm of his hand. Given he had the supplies and time, he would like to establish a pokémon ranch far into the country, away from the struggle of the times. But he regretfully realizes this is a dream that will likely never be in his lifetime. Perhaps he can make that future possible, though, through his actions. Indigo stands stalwart in the face of the oppressive Regime, and would never bow to them under any circumstance.
Background: Indigo knew little of the ways of pokémon by the time he set out on his adventure, only one pokéball in his possession and a belief that if he weren't to stand, the Regime would march over not only every revel but every person in the land. The town he grew up in was forced to bow down; Indigo was only able to steal a pokéball through sheer luck and inattentiveness of a rookie guard. Now he strides onward driven, a single pokémon in his possession, a more powerful ally than any he could hope for. Indigo insists on keeping Maximilian within his only pokéball to protect him from surprise attacks by the Regime.
Pokemon Name and Nickname if applicable: Nidoran♂, nicknamed Maximilian
Pokemon Background: Maximilian was in the back of a Regime convoy when he was discovered: caged, malnourished, but still friendly to the young, approaching Indigo. He was the product of a ruthless yet inattentive officer squadron. Indigo quietly undid the hinges of the cage as the guards had made a stop, and the Nidoran♂ willfully leapt into Indigo's arms. Upon their escape, their bond was eternal, and the two have usurped the Regime's tactics to this day. Where Indigo is the brains, Maximilian is the brawn.
Other: N/A
@Letter Bee @Lady Athena
Oh, I expect him to be! It'll be a great dynamic.
Athena, I added a section to respond to you, since we posted so close together I didn't see your post... before I posted. If that makes sense.
Oh, I expect him to be! It'll be a great dynamic.
Athena, I added a section to respond to you, since we posted so close together I didn't see your post... before I posted. If that makes sense.
Krunk Fortress
Up, Up, and Away
Zerraf lightly touched down near Alexander, their two of formation outnumbered by the Krunklet's...X. "Hm. Your ball friends aren't too happy about you leaving them." Zerraf took a heavy step forward, putting him three paces behind and to the side of Alexander. The wind mage gently set his pillow down and patted it. "Stay." Zerraf unsheathed his rapier with his left hand, performing aloof figure 8s towards the oncoming Krunklets. The ball man on top, he was the smallest... less energy to take down. With an uncontrolled flick of his rapier, Zerraf cast forth a concentrated gust to knock the controller on top off balance. Or so was his goal. Zerraf trudged forward to place himself beside Alexander, scratching his eye while still holding his rapier. "Life as a ball man must be nice. Rolling and such." Zerraf lowered his rapier, back hunched, awaiting the results of their attack.
Eleanor grasped Zerraf's collar, and he dragged as a paper bag may. His eyes remained closed for sometime, and you could swear you heard a snore or two, before his head shook side to side. His eyes opened, glazed, as if a painting. A white eyebrow was raised in response to the girl's ranting. "Eyye. You're tearing the cloak. You're the one lecturing about family." Zerraf paused, brushing his tunic with his left hand near where she was grabbing it. He squinted an eye at Eleanor. She did look familiar, though. "Who are you?" He would add.
@Letter Bee Not at all, I'm glad we could sort this out.
@Letter Bee
That is the very blunt, honest truth, and I'll have to agree that the wording definitely could have been made more clear. He's going to make it even more clear in this next post that he truly, genuinely believes you are a Krunklet. And as a response to the being told prisoner, and I know this is strange, Zerraf believed Alexander was lying to try and blend in. And I agree, if I were in the same situation, I would never assume Alexander is a Krunklet. However, it was a character choice, and not a player one. I'm going to go cook some dinner, and then I'll be back to post. Again, I apologize for this misunderstanding.
That is the very blunt, honest truth, and I'll have to agree that the wording definitely could have been made more clear. He's going to make it even more clear in this next post that he truly, genuinely believes you are a Krunklet. And as a response to the being told prisoner, and I know this is strange, Zerraf believed Alexander was lying to try and blend in. And I agree, if I were in the same situation, I would never assume Alexander is a Krunklet. However, it was a character choice, and not a player one. I'm going to go cook some dinner, and then I'll be back to post. Again, I apologize for this misunderstanding.
@Letter Bee
What Tex said, but you interpreted it as a personal attack, so allow me to apologize for that. Let's clarify our interaction and clear the air. Zerraf has confused you as one of the Krunklets, as he saw no other non-prisoners onboard other than himself at the beginning.He's calling Alexander a traitor of Krunklets, not a traitor of the party. For escaping the fortress, Alexander is sort of a deserter to Zerraf in that sense. If anything, that's Zerraf's style, and he appreciates you more for it. "Appreciate" is kind of a relative term for someone so lazy such as Zerraf though. That may have been confusing at first, and I apologize for that.
If you're referring to his aloof recognition of what you're saying and doing, that is absolutely the character, and I can't change anything about that. There is currently something mysterious going on with Eleanor; in that mood he is more likely to be alert of people and his surroundings, so expect more future interaction than just waving you off.
If I didn't touch an issue that you feel requires discussing, please tell me what's bothering you. The last thing I want is to personally attack a player. And in the future, tell me if you're ever uncomfortable with what I say or do and we can talk about it.
What Tex said, but you interpreted it as a personal attack, so allow me to apologize for that. Let's clarify our interaction and clear the air. Zerraf has confused you as one of the Krunklets, as he saw no other non-prisoners onboard other than himself at the beginning.He's calling Alexander a traitor of Krunklets, not a traitor of the party. For escaping the fortress, Alexander is sort of a deserter to Zerraf in that sense. If anything, that's Zerraf's style, and he appreciates you more for it. "Appreciate" is kind of a relative term for someone so lazy such as Zerraf though. That may have been confusing at first, and I apologize for that.
If you're referring to his aloof recognition of what you're saying and doing, that is absolutely the character, and I can't change anything about that. There is currently something mysterious going on with Eleanor; in that mood he is more likely to be alert of people and his surroundings, so expect more future interaction than just waving you off.
If I didn't touch an issue that you feel requires discussing, please tell me what's bothering you. The last thing I want is to personally attack a player. And in the future, tell me if you're ever uncomfortable with what I say or do and we can talk about it.
@dragonmancer
A withered, gnarly head poked its way out of the main entrance doors. One could practically hear the bones creak, the skin stretch as foggy glasses surveyed the outside area, searching for straggling students out after curfew. The lich's bleach white eyes paused on the drakken, and a quick chelsea smile replaced his withered flat line of lips. Mathigyle shuffled towards Fafnir, leather and cloth continually scraping against brick for many paces until he was placed before him. The drakken easily outclassed Mathigyle physically in every form, but something about the lich's presence was simply... odd. Mathigyle waved as a T-rex may, if it weren't to eat your face and was actually your best friend. "Uh, hm, yes hello. Welcome. Now then, young student, we must be along now. Time for curfew, classes tomorrow, darkness approaching." Mathigyle spoke hurriedly for his age, stuttering through his introduction. He waved the drakken forward as the undead slowly adjusted himself to turn around back to the school, white beard dragging alongside grey, tethered robes.
Mathigyle
A withered, gnarly head poked its way out of the main entrance doors. One could practically hear the bones creak, the skin stretch as foggy glasses surveyed the outside area, searching for straggling students out after curfew. The lich's bleach white eyes paused on the drakken, and a quick chelsea smile replaced his withered flat line of lips. Mathigyle shuffled towards Fafnir, leather and cloth continually scraping against brick for many paces until he was placed before him. The drakken easily outclassed Mathigyle physically in every form, but something about the lich's presence was simply... odd. Mathigyle waved as a T-rex may, if it weren't to eat your face and was actually your best friend. "Uh, hm, yes hello. Welcome. Now then, young student, we must be along now. Time for curfew, classes tomorrow, darkness approaching." Mathigyle spoke hurriedly for his age, stuttering through his introduction. He waved the drakken forward as the undead slowly adjusted himself to turn around back to the school, white beard dragging alongside grey, tethered robes.
Arcadia
Southern Gate
(After being left hanging?) Jäger overheard a wounded animal wailing from the semi-circle nearby and decided to investigate. Upon arrival, it was to his surprise that it was actually a man, one on bended knee and in wooden covering. Jäger had read about theatrics in the temple libraries, but he had never witnessed the arts nor could he recall which particular scene these two actors were reenacting. Curious, the lightning monk supported a lowered chin upon his thumb and nodded in silence as the scene progressed. His pointed finger scraped against the top of his lip. Jäger did not quite understand the culture of the fine arts, but he did find it entertaining at times. Though, it evaded Jäger as to why an improvisational troupe decided to perform for free, as he could not find any sort of collection jar about. However, upon further inspection of the man's uniform...a CMAS insignia...
He wasn't...it couldn't be...
...Was he normally this flamboyant?
From the look on the woman's demeanor, he wouldn't be for much longer. Jäger crossed his arms and smirked; he easily recognized her as Ilian with her tattoos and dark leather armor, and a veteran of Ilian at that. This would be over quickly.
Krunk-Mobile, Storage Bay
Sense, since when?
Zerraf lowered his left hand, jimmying it into his pocket without breaking eye contact. "'Person' is pretty far off from Zerraf," the wind mage exhaled, a breath on the wind. He leaned back and plopped onto the pillow, crossing his legs. "Look, Annalyn." Zerraf rolled his shoulder, pausing. The glaze began to roll over his eyes once again. His neck waned, head drooping to the floor. "I know you're not technically my little sister. But you're part of the family. You always will be." His mask shifted upward and his eyes crinkled as he looked up at her. "You're all I've got. Stay awhile, won't you?"
With that, and a shine in the wind mage's eyes, the crinkles faded from his face and his mask lowered to its normal position. His eyes fully glazed over. Zerraf appeared as if he had a restless night and just woken up, slowly blinking, neck barely holding his head up. He didn't remember sitting down. He had to get up. What a bother. With great exertion, Zerraf groaned to a stand, bringing the pillow to the crook of his neck with his left arm. There was a girl in front of him now. She looked familiar. Who knew. His neck floated about on the mention of a 'traitor'. That one guy had left. Hm. "Ey-ey. You're looking for the ball guy, that Alice guy? He's the traitor making a run for it. I'm not with... this." Zerraf pointed about the room with a rotating pointer finger, indicating the fortress. With that, Zerraf turned his back to Eleanor, head leaned upon his pillow. "Later." he sauntered towards the hole in the wall, as if gravity had been turned to a minimum. Given he was not stopped, he would continue through and float down toward Alexander's general location.
Oh. There he was.
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