(*apologizes for not being around by throwing pies at mahself*
no! I'm not dead! I just...don't...like...medieval role plays very much anymore? Random just running around in the past just isn't doing me any good anymore. Don't worry, I still love you guys I just have school and stuff....)
"Steve Irwin died doing what he loved...getting stabbed in the heart by a stingray."
Post by Mullet Fish on Oct 10, 2006 16:37:00 GMT -5
(Hey guys. I'm still alive, if barely. I see this role-play is progressing well. XD
Yeah, I should really post around here more than I do, but every time I have some time to myself, my friends bug me to play a game with them, or we go hang out. Just the other night I was carousing around my friend's neighborhood in a huge thick coat once owned by a Russian submariner. XD It was so cool. But yeah, I'll try posting more. I really need to brush up on my writing skills. I haven't had to write anything in so long. Plus I haven't been able to read very much, as I've been playing guitar like crazy. I think I'm getting obsessed. Today in physics I was drawing diagrams of the fretboards, and naming all the notes. Then I tabbed out chords. My physics worksheet is a mess now. That could be why I'm failing physics, actually. Who can tell?
Anyway, I've got some homework I need to do. Stupid chemistry. I'm not even sure what we're doing. Last I checked, we were doing Alpha and Beta nuclear reactions. Now we're doing...finding isotopic abundances or something. And average atomic masses. *sigh* Anyway, later.
P.S. I'll join any new roleplay you guys come up with. I'll make sure I actually post in it too. XD)
"Although personally I am quite content with existing explosives, I feel we must not stand in the way of improvement."
Post by Whyte Phoenix on Oct 13, 2006 0:44:02 GMT -5
(( Ohgee. Pardon my lateness. Chem sucks as much as Physics. Good luck in life, Brad. D: ))
As the cackling of bones continued, the chest expanded impossibly ; the ribs showed for a moment, and then disappeared under a growing mass of shrinking feathers. A hint of a face sifted out of what were the chest feathers, and a female head emerged from it shortly afterwards. Nestled deeply in a collar of soft breast feathers, Siliru blinked away the aftermath of her shifting. Stretching quickly, she gave herself a look.
The clothes aren't bad, at least they're there.
Burried beneith an almost villanous ruff feathers, was a garment of almost the same golden-brown. It was longsleeeved, close-cut, and even tightened at the waist with a gold rimmed belt of black, but no shapely figure was evident, surprisingly. The trousers, containing a pirate-like essence, widened to just above the knees before it shrunk to a tight fit. For maximum mobility, the knees were covered only in a thin, grey fabric. The same material was used for her wrinkly sleeves, and a darker, tougher leather was used for her fingerless gloves. A black cape was draped around all of this.
And oddly enough, Siliru carried a weapon, an object produced when a shapeshifter chose not to have her beastial body's beak and claws. It was a long rod, as long as her entire body, the end of it producing a start of a sickle-shaped blade, only to have it end up shooting straight forward, like a katana. The shifter held this harmlessly in her hand.
Overally, Siliru looked rather pleased. Tossing her strange tio of blackish-bronze bangs, she slid out of the alley, clicking her shiney ebony boots, each of the three buckles and rims a glistening yellow. Instantly, a rush of guards dazzled her auric eyes. She took a step back to avoid them, and cautiously stepped out again, only to spot the little boy she had spotted from the sky, cornered.
Fio slipped out from the space and looked around, noticing too late the one guard who just happened to be a tad smarter than the others. He started to fall, tripped by the man's spear, but caught himself just in time and whirled around, green eyes wide as he slipped a hand into the pouch at his hip.
"We are but part of the architecture. If you chip us, do we not flake? If you moisten us, do we not grow moist?" ~Victor the Gargoyle, from The Hunchback of Notre Dame