Posts by kubera

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    ciao, meine freund. d'you mind saving the spot for a while?


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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width:410px; text-shadow: 0px 0px 5px #343132; letter-spacing:-3px; margin-top:-10px][align=center][color=#343132][font=georgia][size=28pt]samuel alan c. bernat[/size][/fancypost]
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    [/size][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width:400px; background-color: #4E4C4C; overflow:auto; height:100px;][justify][sub][color=white]Staring at his reflection, Samuel promptly wonders how it had come to this. Freshly-trimmed tresses of gold in the style of Eurus' breeze, a sophisticated outfit as if taken from a monochrome photograph, it's little wonder why he's surprised at this change of design. Although to be more specific, he was standing a bit too close to the mirror and he was squinting at the shape-shifter behind the mirror. Aside from the contrast to his usual unkempt appearance, his glasses were missing from the outfit as well, and he instead got a pair of contact that were barely his grade.


    Other than that, he looked the same as usual. Same fluffy mop of spun wheat, same blue hues glaring back at him, same sickly pale skin, same slender and skinny figure, all in his twenty year old glory. It amazed him how much he had become a far-cry to the ashen shut-in that barely exited unless it was for food or for buying some games. [i]Even a beggar can look like a noble if dressed properly.


    "And this is why everyone wonders why you don't dress up more often." Here comes his fairy godmother, snaking her arms across his back and peeking from behind to marvel at the strange prince that was Samuel. "I'm serious, Lani. You should have one night a month as a Cinderella." Samuel can't really believe everything Marianne says, and that's especially true now since she's asking for a favor.


    He's known her for years and he's well-versed in a few of her tactics already, and she was just prepping him for the heat with all these bolstering she's doing. That only serves to make him more nervous, though, knowing that she only used that crappy strategy when she's really excited and desperate. In her line of work, that kind of thing was always dangerous; a double-edged sword.


    Yes, he knew what she was. She was a self-proclaimed professional pranker, and today, she was going to let him be her partner-in-crime once again.


    "Your man-date awaits, my princess." Marianne teases, even going so far as to act like the personal chauffeur when their ride was just a taxi. She even takes the liberty of taking his hand, and though he finds it irksome, he's thankful all the same, when he staggers a bit. He's still not used to contacts, obviously, since he needs to be escorted to the front.


    Samuel's getting kind of nervous about this plan, though. He may have taken delight in joining these little jokes she had done so elaborately, but this was a first for him. This included having to interact with someone over an indefinite period of time. What's more worrying is that he will have to... Samuel will have to [b]court someone. That's something he hadn't done since his sophomore year.


    I gotta visualize. Or else he'll panic and book it. And that would earn him Marianne's relentless vengeance for ruining her plans. He knows her well enough that she's the type that will forgive the first time, tolerate the second time, but never forgive on the third. It's his last strike, and if he misses, the consequences of Marianne are far more horrifying than social encounters.


    That... That actually helped. It doesn't take long for Marianne to turn from the hostess to him, and he jolts a bit at her sudden movement. "Alright, show time. Follow Ellie, mkay?" The next whispers really make him want to run towards his blind date right now. "Don't you f*cking come back until ten."


    Meekly, he follows after the so-called Ellie, (nearly tripping and bumping into a few tables,) until finally, he hears the clutter of a chair and spots his date. "Uh, hello." Oh God. That wasn't a... Maybe she just had a really low voice? "My name is Neptune. What's yours?" F*ck. Who am I kidding? He thought she was joking when she said man-date.


    Luckily, years of housing together with Marianne make one an adept at impromptu and bullsh*t. Flashing a slight smile, he takes the other's hand, not without difficulty and nearly grabbing the other—Neptune's elbow. "What a unique name, a majestic sobriquet fitting for your image. Mine pales in comparison, but I'm Samuel." I don't talk like this. But he's glad that he didn't say some mistakes in speech like Shamil or Mine isn't awesome.


    Now that they've introduced themselves to one another, should he pull the chair for the other or wait for the other to take the courtesy? Isn't that what usually happened in dates? He really was rusty, considering his last man-date, or date was back in sophomores.
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    [size=6pt] trek


    is this okay? tell me if i have any misconceptions, ye?

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    [/size][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width:400px; background-color: #4E4C4C; overflow:auto; height:100px;][justify][sub][color=white][i]It's not what you'd define as a living, but I need to play games and piano tiles to keep on living.


    [b]Yeah, he's not going to say that. Rather, he'd prefer not to have said anything throughout this whole ordeal, but that's not what dates are about, right? There's always a lot of talking, (not that he did a lot of talking himself back then). It was a get-together between two parties interested in eliciting a relationship together. And to do that, the two would have to get to know each other whether they passed one another's requirements.


    Samuel's gonna have to tweak his background for now. "Well, I play." When he was only met with silence... "At places." Nice save. I'm going to have to build up my resume slowly.


    From today henceforth, Samuel is now back to his precedent job of performing arts. He often plays at bars and pubs, and had once held a relatively small concert. Not an A-lister nor an undiscovered potential of talent, but he gets by fairly well.


    That sounds better. I guess. But honestly, he'd rather avoid having to tell discrepancies as much as possible to avoid any further inconveniences in the future. Planning ahead is an especially important aspect, considering that he's basically going to bullshi*t all of this. Samuel had better reconstruct himself once more and rubs his index finger anxiously before clearing his throat. "My apologies. That was rather incoherent, wasn't it?" Cue an awkward and shy chuckle for brownie points. "I'm simply nervous, since I expect you to laugh at my occupation. It's happened one more than one occasion already." He mumbles that last part, distinctly softer in volume but still in clear audibility, looking down dejectedly.


    So I'm playing a tender and formal gentleman...? Samuel ponders, but it's a futile question, considering that he's just going to follow the flow of this act.


    He lets the tension simmer through the silence, before doing the ever-lovable pose of rubbing-the-back-of-my-neck-looks-cute, chuckling in that same self-conscious manner again, and bringing his eyes back up to meet the other, (although he's not sure if he's looking at the right space of grey because he's still having trouble in seeing.) "That—" Creating pauses in speech often gets endearment, as seen in the shoujo mangas that he will never admit to reading. "That was uninteresting and depressing, right? Let's move on to something worth talking about: like yourself, Neptune. What do you do for a living?" [/fancypost][size=1pt]


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    [size=6pt] trek

    gonna use these wonderful beauties:


    sup. a moment, please. and i'll have something up. and just to clear, i make boy and girl, ye?


    and don't worry. mine sucks as well.




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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 3px solid #151515; border-bottom: 3px double #151515; height: 165px; width: 235px; background: url(http://i65.tinypic.com/2n1al55.jpg); background-position: center;][/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=#424242; border: 3px solid #424242; border-bottom: none; border-left: 3px solid #151515; border-right: 3px solid #151515; height: 18px; width: 235px;][fancypost bgcolor=#151515; border: none; width: 200px; height: 20px; border-radius: 0em 0em 2em 2em; margin-top: -8px; font-size: 18px; line-height: 18px; text-align: center; color: white; font-family: bell mt; text-transform: lowercase;]ALICIA[/fancypost][/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=#424242; border: none; width: 245px; height: 200px; padding: 10px; overflow: hidden; border: 3px solid #151515; border-bottom: none; border-top: none;][fancypost bgcolor=; border: none; width: 245px; height: 200px; padding: 0px; padding-right: 27px; overflow: auto][fancypost bgcolor=; border: none; width: 245px; min-height: 200px; padding: 0px; font-size: 9px; line-height: 12px; text-align: justify; color: white; font-family: verdana]
    "Why do you persist in that guise?"
    Up to this day, it still puzzles the blonde bombshell as to why Nathanael continues his habit of donning red contacts and fangs in his overall outfit. Was it for easier capture by tricking the vampires? No, vampires had their special way to distinguish humans from their own kind. Did he really parade himself as a cliche vampire for the sake of it? For the fun?




    Up to this day, she still cannot find it in herself to accept his bogus reason. The same way that she could not accept what had happened to her in the past. She didn't want to think about him, but... No, she shouldn't have to think of him. She does not need any reminders and glares at Nathanael, knowing that his thinking mirrors hers at the moment.




    It would be well if he is finally put to rest forever in the abyss of her memories, but of course, things such as leaving behind past memories don't always end well. Alicia doesn't have much time to dwell on those right now, not when their targets are already in sight.




    She gestures towards Nathanael, ("get into position and ambush"), before moving on, slowly making her way and waiting for a vampire to get close before jumping out from the guise of the darkness and leaves to tackle the taller of the two down into the ground, already with the gun at the ready at the heart.




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    "It's fun. D'you need any other?" Nathanael answers cheerfully, flashing her a grin, but she only gives him the opposite, frowning incessantly, as usual. I really want to see her smile once. He thinks to himself and that loses the grin on him. Yeah, he liked her, but wasn't that, like, natural? It happens to anyone who are together for a really really long time. There was no use in blushing or fangirling about it, because this was a normal love.




    He acts as if the effects will probably wear off, but he knows otherwise.




    "Prepare yourself." She beckons, already getting into a ready position, with her hand already making its way towards her bottom—her gun holster, to be exact (he only worded it that way since he was checking her out)—and sets her right hand firmly on it. She must be nervous since her last hunt.




    Yes, this isn't their first rodeo and his indifferent expression morphs into displeasure at remembering what happened. Alicia probably noticed since she glanced at him once bluntly, and he understood what she wanted to say. Don't.




    Yeah, kay, I won't. I'll go get into position already And he focuses on the targets that come close, his hand on his dagger, already making his way to his hiding spot, and waits for the perfect opportunity until he finally has the smaller of the two's neck at the tip of his dagger.
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    what do we put in the Worship portion?



    [/spoiler]

    kk. i'll just jump into the bandwagon with your other recent rpps and play a female (also because i have more to work with in regards to drama and restrictions). lemme just get things straight because i am a dumbo: a and jean are friends (or childhood friends), and they had both entered into knighthood together, joining the garrison, etc etc. a depended/supported jean, and likewise, the same treatment was given towards jean, i think?


    i'm assuming jean became hard to handle (and people talked bad about him?) since knowing what had become of his family, and he finally defected to the enemy kingdom. (questiomundo: "if you're all gone, then no one has to be hurt anymore." is jean's line, ye?)


    also, am i to assume that jean became a close confidant of the enemy? would make it thrilling, i guess. (means more enemies and drama? your choice, i guess.)


    anywayay, a ends up being the one to confront jean and his commander on the battle, whereas i assume a slashes jean and the country keeps him as a prisoner (OF WAR).


    and the look of horror on a would either mean that a didn't know where jean was going or that they didn't actually mean to hurt them, ye?


    wait, cut across the eyes? was jean not wearing a helmet? (ye, stupid and irrelevant question, i got curious.) who was the one who slashed jean? was it actually or some other soldier and a just happened to pass by and notice "woah thas meine freund! need to get him to medic."?


    "fancy seeing you here" was said by jean, ye? (oh gawd, i am ashame. please explain.)

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; margin-top:-20px; text-shadow:0px 1px 10px white][color=lightgray][size=23pt][font=georgia][b]andrée jean di abelli[/fancypost]
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    [font=arial][size=5pt][color=white]DOMINEERING - HARDWORKING - SENTIMENTAL - DETERMINED - RESERVED[/fancypost]
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    [justify][sub][color=white][size=6pt]How long had it been since you had last saw him, this grumpy and earnest old pal of yours? Years? Months? The actual period that had passed since the war were higly irrelevant to her. The time that passed didn't change how she felt about it. To Andrée, it seemed like a score had gone on and done its piece to the two of them. It was simply incredible, albeit cruel, how war could turn the young and innocent soul that she was into this seasoned veteran, tired of her days.


    Jean was not safe from reaching the same destination.


    "Jean?" She calls out cautiously, but Andrée's usual tone, gentle and soft, overrides any of the gloom and prudence that had washed over her the last time she had seen him. Visiting him had been something she had always planned to do, but there was always something that would postpone the trip, whether it was something from herself or from external affairs.


    In regards to outside affairs, she was bombarded with duties and whatnot, being the heiress and trophy child of the di Abelli's. From her family, she was able to join the ranks of the kingdom, while through her own efforts, she was able to seize a little guts and glory on the side. Being regarded in such high esteem was great but it only served to create enemies who would oppose the growing influence and power of their nobility. It didn't help that she was trying to shelter Jean, one of the aces of the enemy.


    Having to speak for him as his benefactor had also helped put her mind away from what he had become. Last she saw him, on the fields of war, he was no more the hero she had always admired in her tender days. No more of the vitality that had always made him glow, no more of the cheerful and hardy expressions of her childhood, no more of her best friend that filled the light of her melancholic days. Instead, war and hate had ravaged his virility. Now, all that was left of his glory days was a husk, one that had given way for the oblivion and abomination to fill the chinks of the armor. [i]Just as I once was.


    It was because of this eerie parallelism that she needed to return the favor. And partially, to atone for her own disdain, that she had wanted to curse and loathe him for his sudden abandonment of her, that he had pushed the blame on her simply because she could shoulder it, that she had built up her abhorrence so much that she was willing to smite him then.


    "I hold the same sentiments, Jeanie." She smiles, trying her best to keep the air light, but it was hard when the two had changed so much from the portraits of their past. Her expression falter a little, and eventually, Andrée drops it in favor of a depression and fatigue, with a touch of recognition, even with all his rags, his haggard appearance, and the scar that splashed across his beautiful and radiant eyes.


    Slowly, she drops to her knees in front of him, going closer than necessary and slowly, hesitantly, sets her gloved palm against his face. In his current state, he might just move away from her, or worse, push her hand away, but it doesn't matter. For now, she wants to immerse herself back into the warm comfort of her memories, where age had not yet tainted its beauty. From a time before he had known of it all. "Oh, how much you have changed, Jean."


    How much, indeed. There was no roughness to his gaze, no loneliness in his expression, no hostility in his aura, no scar or blemish on him, once upon a time.


    Before he could snarl and turn aggressive, she backs away from him and stands back up, dusting off her dress, and puts on that youthful and kind smile. "Shall we get going, Jeanie?" It was unlikely for him to accept, but she should try this method first, before having the guards personally escort him. [/size][/fancypost][align=center]
    [size=6pt] trek[/size]


    danke, danke! danke for taking the time to explain all this even when you just woke up. i don't think i notice any discrepancies so i'll just jump ahead and get right on to roleplaying, ye? you did great! (unlike me, look at this dreck. urgh. im sorry.)
    (if you are trash, i am the garbage man :D)
    just another curiosity, but is jean pronounced john or jean? (ye, another irrelevant question. i like them irrelevance.) on a serious note, do you have any plans on how you wanna go about this? any direction you're hoping this will go, because i want to hear your amazing thoughts. (i'm really amazed at how much threads you generate and how quality your first posts are.)

    da jia, ni hao, hi! nice to meet you everyone. (and i am so happy to see that all the slots have already been filled/reserved. so freaking excited to start this thing!) also, if THROWINGSHADE S. C. is here, happy birthday. i hope you had a splendifurous day!


    i can agree with the prom idea. i mean, each of the gods have their own special months? or day? i think.


    (same here. plot with my bby mori ☆ ~('▽^人) )


    QUESTION ABOUT THE THING: sorry, but am i to assume that this is their first year here, or is it only the first year for some of them? also, i'm assuming a letter was sent to the homes of each student, so did it say stuff that was to tell the guardian that they were going somewhere prestigious, ye? (i just wanted to make sure. kinda a dumbo, and i don't want to embarrass myself....) another question: is contact outside of school, such as contacing family and friends, allowed? or is there a particular system for this?


    and in terms of plotting with specific characters, i think mori will likely think of icicle as a fellow ally or something because of her likened stoicism. or you know, he'll be interested in her should she express a hostile and aggressive behavior towards him. i dunno. (i'll try to think up of more relationships between the characters and mine. i promise. (>m<) )


    as for astralwrath's idea, would these demons be following the orders of someone higher or are they just there to pillage? do they have a reason? (wait are you talking about furies and harpies?)


    in regards to the celestial tinkering idea, i actually like the sound of that. you're talking about asclepius, eris, hebe, etc etc?


    (and in case you're here, קคгคקlยเє, it's a fancy seeing you again. and again i have fallen in love with your charrie.)

    haha, yeah. i'm still waiting for the admin of mcfadden's to go online and notice all the forms and whatnot.


    but i think you'll do fine with role-playing him. if anything, i'll probably end up botching morinaga himself!


    how should we make our roommates interact with one another? to be honest, i don't think morinaga would be trying to cause any fights or something either. hmm, what if remedio ends up touching mori whilst he's in a fit of mental rage? is there any way to dispel the anger inducement or anger empowerment remedio causes? what is the time limit of remedio's effects? is taking it out in a violent and chaotic way the only way to stop the bout?


    anyway, for the prom, (or maybe it's a gathering now), it will be hosted by the end of the month? that is, if we are all agreeing on making it every month. another question: the professors and staff will be the ones organizing this event, ye?


    will the greek festivals and feasts also be implemented into the school?


    also, ♚ ─ Ɗαєηєяуѕ, will this be a light-hearted school life kind of thing or will there be a greater evil they all have to work together to defeat? or will we just go with the flow?


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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; margin-top:-20px; text-shadow:0px 1px 10px white][color=lightgray][size=23pt][font=georgia][b]kyle edgar molton[/fancypost]
    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; margin-top:-23px; letter-spacing:2px][align=center][font=arial][size=5pt][color=white]19 YEARS OLD - AILUROPHOBIC - EASY TO GUILT[/fancypost]
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    [justify][sub][color=white][size=6pt]So, when he turned a corner to throw some of the trash bag from the cafe by the end of your shift, instead of following the routine of placing the garbage can, he physically and mentally recoils at the red abomination in front of him, nearly doubling over in surprise.


    His reaction had gotten him a few looks from the people that passed by, which only made him redden in embarrassment and humiliation. Still haven't figured it out yet? Poor old Kyle here was ailurophobic. If that word is unfamiliar to you, it translates to a fear of cats.


    Even so, Kyle is one that's easy to guilt. Should he see a poor beggar on the streets, he might just give away his burger. If it's raining and he spots a woman looking forlornly across, he will give his umbrella and just make a run for his home. His conscience is not saved from this particularly pitiful cat that's sleeping on the filthy alleyway.


    In that brief moment of hesitation, the words of his psychologist flash through his eyes, "[i]You have to try and get used to the presence of cats, Kyle. Or else you're never going to get over it.", and he knows that he's going to regret this.


    After carefully tiptoeing around the creature and throwing the trash, he makes his way back to the cafe, changes into his casual clothes, and tells the manager that he's off, before walking back to that which he fears.


    "I... I don't think I'm ready to touch it..." Because the cat looked a bit dirty, and he was wearing his favorite white shirt, so instead, he takes off his jacket and places the cat on it, taking care not to wake it or touch it much.


    I'm just going to have to go to Karen for this. And thus, he goes off to his favorite person in the world: his psychologist. Karen was his older sister, so when he does actually take the liberty of visiting her, she makes sure to make fun of him all the while.


    "I can't believe you really did it." And cue the laughter. "I was—" Maybe he should go to another psychologist. "—joking." It was a while before she died down and finally took things seriously. "So, where's the cat?" Cautiously, he glances behind him and she nods. "Well, the only choice you got it to keep it, little brother."[/size][/fancypost][align=center]
    [size=6pt] trek


    i have no idea what to do, so im sorry for crappy post.

    rubadubatrack. be right back.