Avatar of Yankee

Status

Recent Statuses

23 hrs ago
Current Gonna be offline for about a week, traveling. See ya!
1 like
29 days ago
I'm back, I got a new Halloween-ish avatar, and I'm ready to catch up on writing~
4 likes
2 mos ago
Is there any better feeling than tsumo after a kan, and the dora turns out to be the four tiles you just called? I think not.
1 like
1 yr ago
It's so fun to make random OCs for an RP I will probably never run
6 likes
1 yr ago
"As usual, I've been doing online roleplay, and having a blast with women in their 30's exhausted from working too much."
15 likes

Bio



If you're on my page, check out the RP World of Light!
___________________________________________________________________
21+ | UTC-5 | Casual Roleplayer | 1x1's: Closed

___________________________________________________________________

Hello! I'm Yankee.
I'm usually down for pretty much anything: action, adventure, romance, horror, taboo, comedy, smut, gore, slice-of-life, etc.
I like cute, fun stories just as much as dark, gross, traumatic (for character) stories. I enjoy creating original characters for RP,
but I get as much enjoyment writing as canon characters in fandom-based games!
On that note I like comic books, cartoons, and videogames. I'm also very into cosplay and art!

I am a very slow writer, so my preferred posting pace is once per week or less. I usually post on weekends.
I like to have fun while writing, so I prefer relaxed partners who don't take things too seriously.
Remember: fiction =/= reality.

Feel free to PM me to chat!
However I do not check PMs immediately. Might take me a day or two... or ten to get back to you.



Forward all complaints to @stone

and remember,



Most Recent Posts



General info about Gnomes:

Believe it or not, Taras assumed that the next attack from their unseen enemy would be directed at him. This was just the way things went, there was no luck of any kind involved, good or bad. Not only was he the only man in the group, but he had with them the pallet from the plane making him the optimal target. Furthermore, these things just happened to him.

What he hadn't expected was another mortar so soon. A group of enemies then? He'd thought that his cover would give him a good chance to ambush any gunmen that came looking for him. Either way once the tell-tale whistle pierced the air Taras allowed himself just a moment to close his eyes and think, pizdets, before he climbed his way out of the pit he'd thrown himself into. At the top of the ditch, the man moved forward and tossed the pallet as gingerly as he could into another batch of shrubs just as the shell exploded. The pallet was important, but Taras' life was much more valuable, or so he'd argue. Still, though he and the supplies were separated and the pallet out of harm's way for now, the force of the shell's explosion threw Taras a few dozen feet. Dirt and shrapnel covered the Russian and cut his skin. His ears rung and he was bleeding where pieces of the shell were embedded into his flesh, but his eyes were still clear and sharp. The shell landed frighteningly close to where he'd just been crouching in the ditch - and how exactly could the enemy be that accurate with a mortar of all things?

All kinds of theories ran through Taras' mind. Many more enemies than expected to make the extra eyes, some kind of new advanced scope or sighting implement, perhaps a contraption overhead... or, maybe the worst case scenario, someone with an「ability」stalking them. After all, he and the other agents had them - and their main mission was the investigation of such people on the German side.

"Zh," Taras called out, vaguely aware of the position of the other agents. They wouldn't have gone far after Lilliane's warning. "Enemy has some way of seeing us clearly." That they were seen was obvious, but the accuracy of the mortar was uncanny - and the Russian conveyed that through his tone. Somehow through the darkness and trees, they were easily found.

The Russian agent didn't try very hard to take cover after that, slowly moving behind a crooked tree. Now was the time for his fellow agents to show their stuff, to see if he could really count on them. Taras let himself bleed, hoping to make for a tempting target for whatever assassin was after them. If he was anything, he was completely confident in his ability to patch himself up afterward. So long as he didn't take a direct hit and wind up instantly killed, he could act as a decoy so the others could pinpoint the enemy's location.
♦ Wèi Lái ~ Project Attacus ♦

The moth Zasshu's wide grin softened into a grateful smile as Cade acted as an organic umbrella for the girls. She really did hate getting wet, but his carapace kept the worst of the downpour off of their heads. Wèi Lái shuffled inside the elevator as quickly as possible, and once the doors closed she separated from the other Zasshu and stretched her arms up high over her head.

"Thanks, Cade~! Rain is the woooorst," she said. Water dripped off the tips of her wings where she wasn't able to draw them under the carapace, and she resisted the urge to shake them off. She didn't wait too long however, as soon as the elevator came to a halt and the doors opened, Wèi Lái hopped out toward the side and flapped her wings to get rid of the excess rain. Once that was over with, she focused on the room at large and the girl who'd been waiting for them.

"Sakurai!" Wèi Lái repeated the Zasshu's name, waving all of her arms at the girl. The Major seemed to be strict with her, and although she was more talkative than the other two, she also seemed to be of the nervous sort. Just how exactly were her fellow Zasshu treated growing up? She'd have to get them out of their shells. Metaphorically, of course. It might hurt Cade to come out of his shell.

Wèi Lái stepped up next to the table Lindy and Cade were seated at, one hand placed on her chest and the other gesturing to the other two Zasshu as she introduced them all.

"I'm Wèi Lái~ This is Lindy and Cade! We came with Mitsu, as you know!" She used the shortened form of the Major's name to see if the woman would make a retort, "I'm from China, and I am Kougou's daughter. Don't you think that makes me sort of like a princess~?" she giggled.

"Mitsu~ You said there's food here, right?" in the absence of anyone else in the hall, Wèi Lái glanced at the soldier stationed by the door. "Can you bring us some food, Curly~?"

Clearly, the moth-like Zasshu had no issues asserting herself or making demands. She turned back to her fellows and gave them a warm smile. "Lindy, Cade and I only just met~ I don't know where they're from. Would you tell us~?"
Moth will be released as soon as I get back from my mini-vacation next week. Sorry dudes, pretty busy packing and preparing!

Battleground of Hope and Ruin
Homurahara Academy

_________________________________
It would be a lie to say Jigen wasn't a little shaken by the true, raw power of servants on full display - well, maybe a lot shaken, but he did his very best not to show it too much. At Saber's suggestion Jigen firmly nodded, intending to follow his lead, although... there was something... a little different about the Greek hero, wasn't there? He didn't look any different on the outside, but Jigen sensed a subtle change somehow. Now might have been the time to wonder about it, but there was a lot going on all at once - the Caster, Theseus' friend, putting up the projection and the false Herakles riling up his servant. Then, the biggest surprise for the student -

"Then, I'll leave the kid to you while I do so."

...huh? Wait, wasn't a master supposed to stick by their servant? Didn't Saber just suggest they go together?

"Saber, wait, I - " the boy was cut off by Saber's apology and the assertion that the enemy on the big screen that had attack was too powerful, too dangerous to leave alone - and apparently, too dangerous to have to worry about protecting a master as he went into battle against her. Jigen supposed he understood, but... well, it stung, just a bit. Nothing he wasn't used to though, he'd get over it and become a partner that Saber wouldn't have to worry about bringing along with him during a fight. If he survived the night, that is.

As Jigen stood beside the Rider and the master smushed close to his chest, the boy's fists tightly clenched as he watched Saber leap away in pursuit of the enemy, the other banquet-goers moved into action. A few new faces appeared, one making a bold claim, and finally - a fierce torrent of attacks from close-by. A battle, something expected, but Jigen was still an inexperienced master. He had to trust Saber's judgement, trust this other servant and his master to protect him, trust -

Wait wait wait, was he really content to be some bystander after all? Though they'd only met earlier that morning, Jigen did trust in Saber - and he trusted Saber's friend the musician as the magical barrier raised up, so the young master broke away from the man he'd been entrusted to and made his way behind it before the situation got any worse. Agh! Should I wait for Saber to get back or should I go support him? I should go, right? Surely the answer is 'go!' Jigen thought to himself, completely unaware that the enemy Saber had left to pursue was already far out of his reach. Still, he waited for an opening to escape and reunite with his servant.
[@Wine & Dine]@Breo


<villainous heroes and heroic villains>
Homurahara Academy

_________________________________
Patiently, Berserker listened to the information his master fed him about the other servants. Patiently, he listened to Faker and the others trade jests, insults, and even honest words. Patiently, the boy king watched some servants depart and others arrive - and patiently, he mulled over the masked servant's words. His eyes flickered over to the servant beside him, curious to see the man's response. To the pharaoh's momentary surprise, he found a serene smile.

Berserker smiled too, then - not a peaceful one like Faker, but a small grin baring his teeth. Begrudging, amused. Even now he didn't know Faker's true name, but the man had been right when they first met - they were alike after all.

"So that is your true nature?" A rhetorical question, but one the pharaoh voiced all the same. "Interesting." His tone was light, near boyish with genuine intrigue. The man under the guise of Hercules who laid low people and empires alike - despite everything, he still desperately clung to the idea of heroism. More than the brutes who fled and the brute still remaining, Faker strived to be a hero, to change himself. It was touching, almost, and even separated Berserker could tell through his bond with his master that Faker's words had seeped deep into the man's core, his words were unneeded. Berserker agreed.

Understood.

He felt his master's magic in Faker, heard the musician's notes mingle with the shouts of the banquet's host signal the start of a battle. Three on three, was it? In that case...

Berserker's gaze fell upon the long haired Rider protecting two masters. Though much shorter than the other man, Berserker was distinctly 'looking down' on him. The demonic servant he would leave to Faker - that man wouldn't be felled by such an assault, as brutal as it was. Cold and swift the small pharaoh approached the Rider. In one hand a dagger of dark design manifested, in the other a slim, ornate horn of bronze. For a servant with his master so close, a mind would be a terrible thing to lose - and so, a tune of madness to accompany Caster's triumphant song. Berserker brings the horn to his mouth and blows it in the Rider's direction, it's sound both charming and discordant at once, confusing and enraging.

[@Wine & Dine]@SSW@Aoko Aozaki

The large man didn't take issue with the agent, Lilliane's, reply. He met her gaze cooly and like before, thought her harsh attitude was a bit refreshing considering the situation they were all in. He'd been hoping that the woman would relieve him of the burden, but then again he supposed he was a big guy and his fellows were small women. Emphasis on small, though Chloe was on the taller side she was still a fair bit thinner than he was. Without another word Taras followed the girls' lead, humming in amusement when the British agent mentioned her "power."

Ideally, an agent wouldn't let on that they were gifted at all, but he couldn't say he was surprised to hear her flaunt it. The power she held must be something to do with earlier in the plane, the music. Again he found himself curious to know more about it and how it could possibly be helpful as more than a distraction, but even if they were free of prying ears and Taras was the type to ask, he didn't get the chance.

The tell-tale whistle of a mortar made it's way over to the group, with the shell itself sure to follow soon. Not bothering with a warning, the Russian didn't hesitate at all, breaking away from the group to find shelter immediately. He ended up on the other side of a shallow ditch, hoping what shrubbery was around would help conceal him. From his spot he couldn't clearly make out the area though, he'd have to find a better vantage point to retaliate. The man turned and peeked out underneath the sparse foliage, seeing where the other agents had gone while wondering how many hostiles were around... and who, exactly, had let the information that they'd be there leak?

<Incompetence>, he muttered as the shell exploded, throwing dirt up in the space they'd just been.
In Forsaken 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
As more and more people filed into the modest room, Flick narrowed his eyes and the (some would say rarely used) gears started turning his brain. Eight of them - or maybe nine? Maybe the man with the hulking skeleton would try and claim his giant "friend" as needing of an equal share? Even if he didn't, eight ways to split a reward was a lot... but five hundred upfront was still mighty tempting. Actually, what would stop him from taking the five hundred and running? What was stopping any of them? With any luck some might drop out of this unfortunate quest, and if things went South then he'd just bail himself.

Flick was in the middle of peering up at the recently arrived Warforged, lightly but brazenly knocking on their metallic carapace, when two of the ladies in the room made a bit of a spectacle that masked "A.G.'s" arrival.

Abraham Garrick, Flcik let the name roll around in his head for a bit as he explained the situation. As the Genasi had thought, a fruitless endeavor. The chances of finding someone that had disappeared around here were slim. As for the man's name, he couldn't say if he was familiar - maybe heard in passing, but Flick had been trying to stay away from the lawless side of Forsaken for a while.

Now, Flicker had a few words for the man, and he'd crossed his arms and listened while some of the others questioned Mr. Garrick. The poor man seemed genuine - a man with money to spare but no one to share it with since the alleged disappearance of his wife. Real pity, especially since no on seemed to bring up the obvious... so Flick chimed in.

"You do know we won't find your wife, right?" He shrugged his shoulders a bit, his gaze sliding from the man's face off to the floor around him. "I mean, not to be the bearer of bad news but - if it's been weeks, we might be able to find her remains for you, but the chances of her still bein' alive are... uh, poor."

Miracles did happen, or so they say, but Flick found it really, really unlikely.

"I'm sure these folks are just as happy to take your money as I am, but I've been out there a few times - outlook is not good, Sir. If you're still willin' to bet on us though, then by all means."

The older man sighed. He seemed to be a little agitated at the question, but Flick didn't know if it was from the question itself or the reminder that his wife probably wasn't alive. Naturally, he assumed the later.

"Yes, I'm aware she's probably no longer with us. However I did specify that I wanted y'all to stop the people doing this as well. Yes, I do want you to find my wife, but I also want these crimes to stop. Period. Regardless of whether she's found or not," Abraham reminded them.

"Fair enough," Flick finished. So an old-timer with a lot of money and a want for justice. A spark returned to the male Genasi's eyes after the man's reply and he turned to the group at large.

"By the way, anyone else here know each other? We got those star-crossed lovers over there," he gestured to the Elf and other Genasi, his tone sarcastic but he did assume they were exes of some sort. One happy to be around the other, while said other looked like she was going to explode? Either one of the gals was an accomplished actor or they had some sort of messy break-up, and the female Genasi was taking it much harder than the Elf. "A bad prior relationship miiiight get in the way of things, don't you think?"

Banquet of Kings
Homurahara Academy

_________________________________
The heroes attending the makeshift banquet in the courtyard were inspiring indeed. Though Jigen stuck close to his servant, he kept his head up and continued studying the others. To him they all seemed like decent people, which was good news as far as he was concerned. Earlier when Saber had explained just what kind of "war" he was no involved in, Jigen took his warnings to heart. Now, though, he thought it was only right that a noble warrior like Saber would clash with others of the same mind. Yes, all the heroes he could see didn't seem overly hostile or particularly menacing... save for one. The man sat upon his bladed throne. When he stood and spoke Jigen felt nervousness wash over him, but the student forced himself to stay put right where he was, upright. After all, what kind of partner to an epic hero would he be if he got scared off just from the sight of an enemy?

The others' replies, including Saber's own, to the man eased the situation just a little. Then, of course, another guest appeared. Jigen looked between the man claiming to be Hercules and Zoe and her servant. She'd told him he was a fake, but even if she hadn't he might have been able to figure it out based on his actions alone. That was no lion, it was a man!

"Hey! You can't just - " Jigen started to say, looking at the poor unconscious man on the ground. He had wanted to somehow defend that man from this indignity, but suddenly the part goers started to move and shout. Javelins rained around them and the heroes gathered fired back until the assault was over. Jigen didn't possess any form of magecraft to speak of, let alone defensive, so he'd thrown his arms around his head but once the rain of attacks ceased he peeked out from between his elbows and cautiously lowered his arms. Another servant protectively holding his master had wandered closer to them, and though Jigen didn't sense any ill intent from the man he stayed vigilant just in case. An attack could come from anywhere at anytime - wasn't that just proven?

Saber, that was... Jigen's thoughts drifted through his telekinetic link with Theseus. It was amazing, terrifying, awesome, and horrible. The power of a servant was hard to wrap his head around, but even seeing some of the other masters move to defend he felt conflicted. Being a part of the conflict made him feel larger than life, like he was part of something important, but he might as well be a bystander. What should - how can I help out?
[@Wine & Dine]@Breo@Aoko Aozaki


<our goal is>
Fruz Estate, Western Farms

_________________________________
The Pharaoh considered his current companion's reply. Before the man answered his question, he spoke on the nature of love and hate, and Berserker respectfully let him without interrupting. He made some fine points. Berserker wasn't entirely sure he agreed, but it was an interesting perspective nonetheless. Men and gods alike were made immortal by love, that much Berserker thought to be true, but he knew from experience that hatred could take hold in a person's spirit so firmly that they could pass it on to others. That hatred, though it may take a different shape, could live on in multiple people, in multiple forms, a cursed line that connected all those who shared it. The priests, artisans and spirits that resented his father also resented Berserker, despite his attempts to right Akhenaten's wrongs. The gods his father rejected haunted his family even after his death. The other servant considered the lingering of the feeling, but the ghosts of hatred had been lingering on for a long, long time.

At some point during his thoughts, Berserker's eyes had drifted closed. When he sensed the other man shift, his eyes opened once again and he lay his cool gaze on 'Hercules' - or, as it was divulged, not Hercules. At least, not always. The boy king searched the man's face for the full truth. He wasn't sure if he found it, but he came to understand either way. A man desperate to be anyone else, embracing an identity that was thrust upon him.

"...wonder if you could trying breaking your curse not as Hercules, but as your true self?" Berserker guessed, taking advantage of the man's pause. He shrugged a shoulder, absently gesturing with a hand as a bitter smirk formed on his face. "A curse is a hard thing to break, though you know this if you had to don the mantle of such a mighty hero to do it. Whether you lived with regrets about your identity then, and still harbor them now... There is no use thinking about it unless you can claim the Grail."

Of course, if only one master and servant could claim it, Berserker had no intentions of letting his ally do so. Though he wouldn't admit it aloud, the Pharaoh was quite content to discuss these things with the man who had become Hercules. When he wasn't speaking in the hero's persona, he had a solemn dignity about him that intrigued Berserker. He thought that perhaps the man really would have been better off fighting his fate as a man and not a legend, but then again, what was the point of thinking about "what if's?"

<Banquet of Losers>
Homurahara Academy

_________________________________
Wow, what a greeting. The fireworks were a little unnecessary though. Compared to the large figure of "Hercules," the small servant draped in gold and lapis wasn't very imposing at all. The boy and his master followed behind their boisterous ally as the shower of javelins were dispatched by the combined forces of the kings and their minstrel. Some, Berserker recognized from earlier at the bank, others he didn't, but they were all the same: lowly beings before a Pharaoh. Even as a weak servant, he was still ruler of Egypt.

Berserker had the feeling the mysterious Lancer would back off after their failed assault, so while "Hercules" played himself up Berserker's eyes flitted among the crowd. With Markansas at his back, Berserker reached out to him through their bond.

Master, recall what I told you earlier - your servant is a physically weak one. However, should the need arise... he began. The show of power just a moment ago gave him some idea as to the strength of the others, but if anymore of a scuffle broke out it would be useful to know which he may even have a chance contending with, if any, especially the showboating persona of the other servant next to them would serve as a big enough distraction. Tell me what you can about them.
Reorganizing. . .
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet