It was so much easier to shut herself in. Why bother? They don't listen. No one likes bad news anyway. And in the end it only ends up hurting her. In here, she won't have to look, won't have to know, and most of all she won't have to deal.
Isn't that the way of our world? All unpleasant things are hidden by lies and happy words. So isn't it fitting, that she harbinger of misfortune also hid away?
MY STATS
My character's username: second.try My character's level: 2 Character's HP: 30 Character's Job Class: Cheshire Cat Current party: Currently not in a party. Current Guild: Currently not in a guild. Location: Tulgey Woods Small IC description of character: A tired-looking girl, with a feathery-scarf and cat ears. Character journal:BATTLE ENTRY LOG
Zyphiris rolled 1 20-sided dice:
7Total: 7 (1-20)
Posted: Sun Mar 23, 2014 9:19 pm
[7. Hatred] (3/3)
It wasn't a surprise how her first field trip would end with her carrying an intense loathing towards the hunter faction. The Death Lead, in particular, held a special place in the growing pit of anger and hatred within her. The man was callous and cruel, and wielded power that made her seem so...small.
She would never forgive them for what they've done to her. And she would never forget.
[Quest Complete] [+1 level] [+1 loot card]
MY STATS
My character's username: FrozenFlower My character's level: 20 Character's HP: 30 Character's Job Class: Gryphon Current party: - Current Guild: Penumbra Location: Small IC description of character: Towering at 190cm, she emits a cold blue aura as she stares down her opponent. Wields an icy polearm and carries a calm expression.
He'd hoped the numb apathy to which he'd been subjected might in some way be permanent: hoped that he'd sufficiently effaced the necessary receptors by means of eight years of chemical onslaught. But the emotions he'd outsmarted found their way back in and settled as though they'd never left and they reinforced themselves with the new sensation of complete desperation unmitigated by hope and supported by his acceptance, finally, of his own self-loathing. David Foster Wallace had proposed that it wasn't hopelessness, but the point at which the fears haunting him became bigger than the concrete fear he was now seriously examining as an option.
He was too scared to take it, but kept waiting for it, and he'd been looking for it when the recruiters came: and they'd promised him adventure and warned him of mortal danger but they'd had it the wrong way around.
MY STATS
My character's username: The Waxwing Slain My character's level: 4 Character's HP: 30 Character's Job Class: Caterpillar Current party: Current Guild: Location: Small IC description of character: Waxwing fits neatly into the "attractively weatherbeaten highwayman" archetype: rough brown hair falling a bit longer than his coarsely-stubbled jaw, a rakish scar across one brow, a lean and wiry build,and a general bearing of ne'er-do-well garnished with an unimpressed, "been there, done that" stare from dark, deep-set eyes. A pair of dark stag's antlers finish the carefully-constructed suggestion of a barely-tamed animal.
Whose face was very like a crow, With eyes, like cinders, all aglow, Who seemed distracted with his woe--
His father had been one of those kindly-faced, upright gentlemen who felt the need to forever dispense little pieces of advice: first names and big smiles during a business meeting were a sign of impending bad news. A woman appreciates a big flashy gift once a year less than several small ones for no special occasion at all ("let her know when you think about her" he'd said like Taym didn't think about her always). Keep your desk neat even if your files are a mess, because your desk is what other people see. Eat meals slowly and with attention. Good wine can be cheap: good olive oil is expensive.
And perhaps this explained why Taym had sometimes felt the need to do the same: dramamine first might keep you from vomiting. Read the weather part of the newspaper and get in line at three four AM the day it's supposed to be raining at 6 PM, or you're out of a bed. If you want to be able to stay in the library for hours with fewer dirty looks, go in and ask for help finding a specific book and make it a good one. Truck stop on exit 89 has showers for seven bucks, if you're feeling fancy. It made him feel enjoyable worldly, pleasantly jaded, to drily heap the pearls of his wisdom on some terrified new kid's head, and even more so to offer them up to a man older than he was by several years and clearly new to this particular brand of hell.
And he'd kept it up: get out on the fields every damn day. Watch out who you cross because people have long memories when there's nothing else to keep them occupied. Boredom is how you end up crazy, so work.
He watched Leslie leave his room and he wondered if his father, too, had been frantically trying to conceal the fact that he knew nothing and feared everything.
MY STATS
My character's username: The Waxwing Slain My character's level: 4 Character's HP: 30 Character's Job Class: Caterpillar Current party: Current Guild: Location: Small IC description of character: Waxwing fits neatly into the "attractively weatherbeaten highwayman" archetype: rough brown hair falling a bit longer than his coarsely-stubbled jaw, a rakish scar across one brow, a lean and wiry build,and a general bearing of ne'er-do-well garnished with an unimpressed, "been there, done that" stare from dark, deep-set eyes. A pair of dark stag's antlers finish the carefully-constructed suggestion of a barely-tamed animal.
Whose face was very like a crow, With eyes, like cinders, all aglow, Who seemed distracted with his woe--
Repeat 03: Wisdom When she was really little, someone once told her that wisdom was the greatest thing a person could strive for. Being all of three weeks old at the time, that little timbit of information stuck with her. Wisdom came from knowledge, and knowledge came from asking questions; so ask questions she did.
MY STATS[color=white]
My character's username: Ch33p-Ch33p My character's level: Sixteen Character's HP: Thirty Special Card: 10 of Clubs Character's Job Class: Dormouse Current Party: Current Guild: Location: Battle Zone Small IC description of character: Art by amicableAggressor Character journal:Link
Andraia rolled 1 20-sided dice:
1Total: 1 (1-20)
Posted: Sun Mar 23, 2014 9:41 pm
01: Kindness She didn’t really dislike anybody, she tended to see the best in everyone, but she liked the kid ones the best. Some people were quiet, and some people were funny, but it was the nice ones who really stood out to her. Nobody ever told her that Kindness Can Deceive.
((Could not resist Matope reference…))
MY STATS[color=white]
My character's username: Ch33p-Ch33p My character's level: Sixteen Character's HP: Thirty Special Card: 10 of Clubs Character's Job Class: Dormouse Current Party: Current Guild: Location: Battle Zone Small IC description of character: Art by amicableAggressor Character journal:Link
Andraia
Offline
Andraia rolled 1 20-sided dice:
5Total: 5 (1-20)
Andraia
Offline
Posted: Sun Mar 23, 2014 9:42 pm
Repeat 07: Hatred She knew what the word hate meant, but she didn’t know what it meant. She knew what anger was. She had felt. She had felt it when her older brother had accidentally stepped on her (which was rather significant given that he was about five feet tall at the time and she barely topped five inches) and she had thought she felt hat when he laughed and called her runt afterwards. That wasn’t hate, though, and it would be a long time before she actually learned what hate really was.
MY STATS[color=white]
My character's username: Ch33p-Ch33p My character's level: Sixteen Character's HP: Thirty Special Card: 10 of Clubs Character's Job Class: Dormouse Current Party: Current Guild: Location: Battle Zone Small IC description of character: Art by amicableAggressor Character journal:Link
"AGAIN." The commander shouted, haughty eyes scanning the soldiers. More press ups, sets of 5. Every time the commander shouted, they would lower themselves incredibly close to the hard packed dirt, sand flying and scratching away at them, then press back up to a plank position.
"AGAIN." Came the sharp cry, and continued for what seemed to be hours.
MY STATS
My character’s username: SANDSHARK My character’s level: 16 Character’s HP: 30 Character’s Job Class: Gryphon Current party: n / a Current Guild: Penumbra Location: Tulgey Woods Small IC description of character: A tall and bony man with a gold trimmed coat and long auburn hair covering his eyepatch. Tends to have a sneer on his face and looks down his nose at people. Character journal:Here!
He had an especial knack for remembering the catalysts, even when the memories between then and now were swallowed up by fog. He remembered the first time he'd switched from foil to needle; he remembered the first time he met her, sitting in her hard plastic chair and reading Lolita. He remembered even the things that at the time did not seem like a beginning at all: he remembered the first night he slept in his car thinking it'd be for one night before it unspooled into a year and a half.
Other things, with no significance at all at the time, recalled easily:
"You saw that too," whispered fearfully and he'd been clean for a month so the old excuse was gone. He'd seen it too, and without knowing why he confirmed it instead of denying it. Later, notes in a file and a series of white coats: first clean and sterile, then ornate and alluring.
The portals back up and real food in the larders. A willful act of self-deprivation (no sense in spoiling himself; hell, they could be back to MREs tomorrow), just once, and the shape of his ribs uncovered slowly as his body eroded away. A pile of books on locusts and staying up late to write the will he should have written months ago, with strangely-steady, skeletal hands.
He remembered the first time he'd seen her with the clarity of a movie clip: the strutting boyish step that made her high red ponytail sway, from far across the common as she slipped into the dormitory building. A pretty stranger, who should have been easy to forget. No great story unfolding there, because none could, not here in this place: it was a fluke. That was not a beginning. Just the isolated recollection of a lonely man. Hope was a traitor. He knew his own faults.
MY STATS
My character's username: The Waxwing Slain My character's level: 4 Character's HP: 30 Character's Job Class: Caterpillar Current party: Current Guild: Location: Small IC description of character: Waxwing fits neatly into the "attractively weatherbeaten highwayman" archetype: rough brown hair falling a bit longer than his coarsely-stubbled jaw, a rakish scar across one brow, a lean and wiry build,and a general bearing of ne'er-do-well garnished with an unimpressed, "been there, done that" stare from dark, deep-set eyes. A pair of dark stag's antlers finish the carefully-constructed suggestion of a barely-tamed animal.
Whose face was very like a crow, With eyes, like cinders, all aglow, Who seemed distracted with his woe--
Uttam sat back in his chair, staring at the ceiling of domain. Slowly and with much trepidation, he closed the small book held in his left hand. An old play by one of the greater Conquest playwrights, a tale of cities and politics, and the ever present theme of war. A blustery sigh compressed his chest as he let the book settle onto his lap. He'd be there a while.
MY STATS
My character’s username: SANDSHARK My character’s level: 16 Character’s HP: 30 Character’s Job Class: Gryphon Current party: n / a Current Guild: Penumbra Location: Tulgey Woods Small IC description of character: A tall and bony man with a gold trimmed coat and long auburn hair covering his eyepatch. Tends to have a sneer on his face and looks down his nose at people. Character journal:Here!
"Uncle, I want to do everything the way you do! I want to be you, Uncle Uttam!" Murral chirped, at a young age of 14. Uttam smirked and ruffled the boy's hair, shaking his head. "No, you don't nephew. You want to be someone more reliable than your Uncle. Someone that gets things done and can be trusted with any task."
Later that night in bed, Uttam couldn't sleep. Murral wanted to be him? No, no. He had far more potential than that. He had to be more than his lazy uncle.
He never wanted someone to look up to him.
MY STATS
My character’s username: SANDSHARK My character’s level: 16 Character’s HP: 30 Character’s Job Class: Gryphon Current party: n / a Current Guild: Penumbra Location: Tulgey Woods Small IC description of character: A tall and bony man with a gold trimmed coat and long auburn hair covering his eyepatch. Tends to have a sneer on his face and looks down his nose at people. Character journal:Here!
Flyin'High returned to the lake once more. She liked remembering memories that it dredged up. She sat down by the water's edge and settled down into a calm state. She touched the water…..
"Anthe Anthe!! The test results are back! Come check with me!" Her friend screamed across the quad. She ran across the field and grabbed Anthe's arm. "Come on come on! I need to be with someone to see the grades. You know how fearful I get about these things."
Anthe sighed and rolled her eyes. She smiled a small smile and looked down at her best friend. "Okay okay I am coming." They started to walk across the quad. She had actually tried really hard on this test. She really had wanted to ace this test and maybe even higher than her brother this time.
She went to the post up where the grades were. She glanced up the list starting from the bottom. She saw her friend, and she starting laughing about what she got. She kept going not seeing her name. Oh look her brothers name. But not hers. She looked up to the end of the list at the top. And there was her name. Number 2. Above her brother.
"YES!" she exclaimed.
OOC
My character's username: Flyin'High My character's level: 3 Character's HP: 30/30 Character's Job Class: Caterpillar Current party: None Currently Current Guild: None Currently Location: Tulgey Woods Small IC description of character: 5'7" lanky female. She has ice blue eyes, though you can't see one of them,as it is covered by a black blindfold. She has straight snow white tresses with choppy front bangs that brush her eyebrows. She has a large set of wings that brush the ground when she moves around, so don't be alarmed if you see some twigs in her feathers. Character journal:Here
McCowboy was lost. But of course he was lost, he didn't even know where he was going! Even if he had a goal in mind, there was no making sense of this strange place or any expectation that he could possibly know how to find it. He was relieved, however, to find a fresh cool lake in these strange parts.
But as the story seemed to go, the stranger only got strange as voices called out to him, and old memories creeped up to haunt him...
The lamp shattered upon the boot's impact.
Wyatt hopped out of his bed and quickly tried to pull on his jeans - or were they Jim's? - aw, s**t, ********, ********, ********. His father had caught him and was screaming up a storm, smashing apart the seventeen year old boy's room.
Jim's pants were back on, but was storming out with the rest of his clothes just in his arms when his Wyatt's father blocked him. His dad shoved his boyfriend into the counter and slugged him. He couldn't take it anymore - Wyatt charged at his father, but was just tossed back the same. Jim snuck out in the chaos, leaving Wyatt to take a beating by himself before getting the boot - kicked out of the house, the last time he'd ever see his family.
And for the better, really.
MY STATS
My character's username: McCowboy My character's level: 4 Character's HP: 30/30 Character's Job Class: Gryphon Current party: N/A Current Guild: N/A Location: Tulgey Woods Small IC description of character: A tall and muscular lightly freckled human with a brown and gold duster coat, tight red pants, and a slanted feathered cowboy hat. Character journal:[ BATTLE ENTRY LOG ]
its me debz rolled 1 20-sided dice:
12Total: 12 (1-20)
Posted: Sun Mar 23, 2014 10:53 pm
Normalcy
It's nice.
You are eating breakfast-- toast and a half an egg and a little bit of juice.
It's nice.
Together, you all sit at the table, behaving nicely. Even your brother. Even you.
It's nice.
The doorbell rings, and your father stumbles to the door, at least half-sober for the visit from the social worker.
It's nice.
OOC
My character's username: k1ng My character's level: 10 Character's HP: 30 Small IC description of character: k1ng is arguably the angriest Dormouse the game has ever seen. At barely five feet tall, he is among the shortest as well. Two comically large ears sit on the side of his head, and above his eyebrows are a pair of pink demonic horns. Behind him are a pair of white wings, because he clearly can't make up his mind. About anything.
Anyway, don't stand in fire, and he won't start screeching angrily.
Kindness It comes from unexpected places, kindness, because it comes so rarely that nowhere is the status quo.
But, still, he is offering a cigarette.
But, still, he is offering a second chance.
It's not unusual: it's not the second chances that are a kindness, but the consideration that he might not always have to be a ******** up.
You feel bad, but not bad enough to give his things back. You feel bad, but not bad enough to apologise for fighting him like a cornered rat.
But you will give him this.
You will try.
OOC
My character's username: k1ng My character's level: 10 Character's HP: 30 Small IC description of character: k1ng is arguably the angriest Dormouse the game has ever seen. At barely five feet tall, he is among the shortest as well. Two comically large ears sit on the side of his head, and above his eyebrows are a pair of pink demonic horns. Behind him are a pair of white wings, because he clearly can't make up his mind. About anything.
Anyway, don't stand in fire, and he won't start screeching angrily.
My character's username: Ch33p-Ch33p 
