Lady_Cyrsei
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Posts
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Joined
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((Added a string version of the song which Serena was playing on the Piano))
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((Very well done phobia, you can really sympathize with the situation your character is in and the visuals are wonderful, how the bright and shinning beauty we see as children can be easily swept away as we are adults. Thank you for posting.))
Quote:((I would definitely like to read something once you feel inspired, but remember dont be to choosy or else you'll never post! Sometimes its the hard things, the betrayals, the sorrows the hokey things in life which really give a character depth so dont hold backOriginally Posted by Vyver
Nice read,
but alas, another prompt I really can't think of anything particularly interesting to say without getting into woobie "I remember the day my parents were killed by Preatorian PPD" sob story.
maybe I'll think of something when I get home, or there's always next prompt.
))
((I hope everyone is enjoying this weekly thread I know I am!)) -
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TPBM Has their own soundtrack where ever they go -
:throws herself into a jello mold and pours strawberry jello mix in after her:
Give me a few hours to set up. -
Its not about the grind though, its about the feeling of accomplishment, its about the flow of the story, and its about camaraderie that comes from spending time with the same group of peeps to the point of mutual understanding and hilarity ensuing.
I mean if I just wanted a grind I'd go to the AE or something, I can do that I got my first Brute 1-50 on a double xp weekend 2 days no problem, but thats not the point. The point is yes I understand theres an influx of new players and you need to make the game fun for all levels of skill but come on! dont take away all of the challenge! -
Ok so I'm over exaggerating the time, but the point still stands, I like the grind I want harder missions and maps Not easier ones! I've been playing this game for to long now to enjoy anything easier. I want to be forced to use tactics. Yes an ITF is hella fun (pets Seri in her Roman gladiators armor) but really cutting out missions and making them easier just kills the thrill for me.
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Ok so since coming back I've been thinking about getting a group of friends together to run some drunken Task Forces on saturdays like we used to do. I like a long TF maybe an ITF so my Invuln Tanker can feel uber, or Posi for my lower level toons or if I am feeling particularly malicious and sadistic I would start up a Lady Gray. However I've heard through the grapevine that Missions have been cut out of the Task Forces and they have been made shorter and easier.
WHAT?!?!?!
I enjoy ordering take out and drinking to much on a saturday afternoon, cracking bad jokes at the expense of the NPC on ventrillo, getting to the point of exhaustion where you have a personal vendetta against the main boss because the darned thing has put you through 8 hours of the same map only to not die when you hit the SOB with all your teams worth in the face, I miss the sleep dep and Saki fueled strangeness that ensues when waiting outside of the mission door.
How can I enjoy the epic grueling battles, how can I become engaged in the thrilling story if I'm not dragging a team of eight through hell, legionaries, clockwork, and Rikti to the point of exhaustion?!
I want my day long Task force back damn it! -
((Thank you, I hope I can encourage more people each week to join me. I really love to read and to learn about other characters and what motivates them. ))
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This is a weekly article, delivered to you every Wednesday. These articles are intended to be a fun exercise as well as a good resource for role-players to explore Character Development so please feel free to post your own characters reaction to the weekly prompt. So be sure to stay tuned to this blog for future installments!
What is your Characters most vivid or earliest memory?
Serena sat in the dusky gloom of the front parlor; the French doors open onto the veranda where a shaft of lazy summer sun illumined her face and a breeze played idly with the long lace curtains fluttering them inward then outward again like the old house was contentedly breathing. The sounds of the city seemed distant here, seemingly so far away yet just beyond the high brick fence which ran around the property. Only an elegant wrought Iron gate made up of handcrafted vines and blossoms separated the large rose garden from the street outside.
There she sat long legs curled under the old worn Piano bench; high black satin pumps lay tumbled and forgotten beside her while stocking feet pushed against the pedals, with long delicate fingers she caressed the ivory keys. Swaying gracefully to and fro to the somber melancholy of an old Irish melody, with sad eyes she watched the late afternoon sun lightly fall over the old Violin in the corner and the sweet smelling cigar box on the mantelpiece. The Fitzpatrick and Ryan estate had been entitled onto Serena after mothers death and a lack of Male heirs on her Grandfathers side, now upon her Grandmothers death the whole of the estate had fallen to her. She had complied with its tenants all her life, first her baptism at Our Lady of Victories, then regular weekly attendance to church, admittance to Sacred Heart Parochial, and later going on to Harvard, her Grandfathers Alma Mater, and then continuing her education at Founders Falls University and Teaching Hospital.
A birthright which had not been passed on to Serena with her Grandparents estate had been her Grandmothers dark flaming red locks. As she glanced about the deserted room to pictures on shelves and paintings on the walls she saw them all, her Mother Lillian had been endowed with these scarlet tresses as was her grandmother and great grandmother and all the Fitzpatrick women as far back as anyone could remember. Serena had waist length thick shinning black hair strong and silken which always seemed to hold on to the last scent of her perfume. She had inherited her grandmother’s bright blue eyes however, the color of sapphires and clear running streams. It was with these eyes that she now looked about the old House. This beloved house which had held so many generations now to be shut up and used no more, the fine legged furniture covered in sheets, scattered about the wood floors and thick Persian rugs looked like ghosts to Serena. When the housemaids moved through the rooms upstairs closing up the house Serena longed to hear the laughter of her Grandfathers rich barrel chested voice echoing up those stairs one last time.
She had always loved this house, with its curving banisters, intricate crown molding and Ivy covered lattices, and she had done ever since she had been a very young child. Baking cookies with Martin in the Chef’s Kitchen, making faces at her reflection in the funny copper pots and helping him polish the old silver which still bore the Fitzpatrick crest on the handles. The elegant parties her Grandmother had thrown where she could get dressed up in ruffles and bows and the parlor where she and her grandfather would play duets until she was sent up to bed with a curtsey and a pat to her bottom and later on she would stay up late and listen to the laughter and music float up the stairs like a warm breeze. She had grown up playing in the park only a few blocks away with Ms. Hathaway who watched over her just as she had done for her mother Lillian. As a teen and young adult when she would visit for the summer months every evening before Grandfather died she would walk with him through the narrow old sidewalks lined with tree’s and breathe deep the smell of the old gas lanterns which still lit up the dark while he told her stories of growing up in the Old country.
During the first eight years of her life she had lived nearly fulltime with her Grandparents in the brick federal style row house on Mt. Vernon Street in the old Boston neighborhood of Beacon Hill. Her grandmother had taught Serena how to read and write in her elegant hand, and provided the young girl with her first Piano a beautifully restored Steinway which had been her great-grandfathers in Ireland and a regular instructress. Since her birth however her Father Samuel D. Jordan had been trying to finalize his adoption of the little girl, and it was only during the summer months that she was allowed to see him. It had been her mothers wish but it had been her Grandmothers fierce protective nature and strong dislike of Paragon City, which she termed to be “wild and uninhabitable” which had slowed the adoption proceedings.
Mariah Fitzpatrick Ryan had not approved of her daughters choice to drop out of medical school and enter into the Army Nurse Corps and go to Vietnam. Mrs. Ryan did not approve of the relationship which had developed between her daughter and a dangerous rogue special ops Sergeant named Johnny Phoenix which had lasted even after the war and until the young mans death in 1982 or the hasty wedding which occurred shortly thereafter to his friend and tail gunner Samuel D Jordan. Pregnant by a dead man and living in Paragon City hundreds of Miles away Mrs. Ryan and Rosey Lee had rarely spoke, that was until Lillian had called telling her mother of her illness. Mrs. Ryan had wanted more for her daughter and now she was faced with losing both her daughter and possibly her grandchild to be. She had begged Lillian despite their shared religious beliefs to reconsider the decision to keep the child and to undergo the surgery which would save her, but stubborn to the last Lillian had refused and Grandmother Ryan had rushed down to Founders Memorial Hospital hoping for a chance to see her daughter again, but fate was cruel and Mrs. Ryan arrived only to have Lillian die on the birthing table before she had had the chance to even hold her daughters hand and see the light in her blue eyes one last time.
There was one big difference about her Grandparents home and her fathers’ home in exciting Paragon City, Grandmother loved to talk about her Mother, and Sam D never could bear too. Grandma Ryan called her mother by her first name “Lillian” and never knew a thing of her daughter after she went off to Med school. Grandmother would talk of Lillian’s accomplishments and how beautiful and pure of heart her daughter had been before she had been swept up into the tide of the sixties and seventies political movement and putting her life on the line she went off to war. Serena’s father called her “Rosey Lee” the name she had gone by when they had fought in the War Together. Lillian had been a Nurse and field medic during Vietnam and her Papa would tell her stories on his very good days of her Bravery and Goodness, The memories of her Mother where to mixed up in the war for Sam D. who had really loved Rosey despite her long engagement with his best friend and had been a loving and attentive father to Serena first out of love and duty to his departed friends and then caring for the little girl for herself.
However both had agreed that Rosey Lee Jordan had been a Hero.
Serena had been named after her mother, just as she had been named after Grandmother, and in fact every woman born in the Fitzpatrick line to which she belonged had the name of Rose. It was Birthright her Grandmother said to remember those women who had come before her and to remember the woman whom had given birth to them all.
The story of a fire haired beauty from northern Gaul named Rosalind (or Rosa in Latin), who had been found sleeping in a small boat which had washed ashore from the northern sea, she was taken captive immediately by those whom had found her. She had stayed a slave for six long years and befriended another child there whom was a Roman and a Christian who showed her the power of prayer. After helping the young boy, who would later become a priest, together they escaped their Irish Slave masters, and she had served the young Romans family and followed him back into Ireland serving him and the church loyally until her death. It was said whom ever bore her name would have the blessing of God and would be able to drive out the forces of darkness. Grandmother had loved to tell the story of Rosalind to Serena when she was putting her to sleep as a child and Serena herself had spent many an hour pretending to be the fierce red headed warrior striving to protect the priest from highwaymen and rescuing him from slave traders.
Serena could not bear to sell the place or any of her grandmother’s things. So she had had extra security installed and she would lock it up as it was. Nothing was to be moved or touched. Linens where to be stored and the rose garden allowed to run wild. The only thing going back with her to Paragon City would be her old Steinway piano. As the last notes of her song drifted out into the gloaming of the dyeing day she knew she would have to leave in a few moments, slip on her black high heels, white satin gloves and lower the black veil of her hat and she would slip through the city to the cemetery in the back seat of the dark Lincoln Town car alone and say goodbye to her grandmother and lay her to rest in eternal slumber beside her Grandfather just as they had planned.
As she rose and slipped on her heels, running a loving gloved hand over the black shine of the piano’s curves, shutting up the instrument and pocketing the key, she went to the front door and looking around the house one last time, lowering the small veil of her hat while a single tear drop fell to the threshold below. All of these memories of her earliest days had come rushing back to Serena, telling their stories like old women before a fire demanding to be heard. There was still so much more she had to do before she could come back here secure of everything, free of all her torments and obligations. She felt a change coming upon her lately, like a ledge one does not notice until it is almost too late. When she was delivered of her burden then she would come here to rest and fight no more, she would lead a peaceful life of safety and gather those she loved around her where they need not fear the darkness anymore. This she vowed as she slid into the smooth back seat, and moving silently through the dusky streets she said goodbye. -
This is a weekly article, delivered to you every Wednesday. These articles are intended to be a fun exercise as well as a good resource for role-players to explore Character Development so please feel free to post your own characters reaction to the weekly prompt. So be sure to stay tuned to this blog for future installments!
What is your Characters most vivid or earliest memory?
Serena sat in the dusky gloom of the front parlor; the French doors open onto the veranda where a shaft of lazy summer sun illumined her face and a breeze played idly with the long lace curtains fluttering them inward then outward again like the old house was contentedly breathing. The sounds of the city seemed distant here, seemingly so far away yet just beyond the high brick fence which ran around the property. Only an elegant wrought Iron gate made up of handcrafted vines and blossoms separated the large rose garden from the street outside.
There she sat long legs curled under the old worn Piano bench; high black satin pumps lay tumbled and forgotten beside her while stocking feet pushed against the pedals, with long delicate fingers she caressed the ivory keys. Swaying gracefully to and fro to the somber melancholy of an old Irish melody, with sad eyes she watched the late afternoon sun lightly fall over the old Violin in the corner and the sweet smelling cigar box on the mantelpiece. The Fitzpatrick and Ryan estate had been entitled onto Serena after mothers death and a lack of Male heirs on her Grandfathers side, now upon her Grandmothers death the whole of the estate had fallen to her. She had complied with its tenants all her life, first her baptism at Our Lady of Victories, then regular weekly attendance to church, admittance to Sacred Heart Parochial, and later going on to Harvard, her Grandfathers Alma Mater, and then continuing her education at Founders Falls University and Teaching Hospital.
A birthright which had not been passed on to Serena with her Grandparents estate had been her Grandmothers dark flaming red locks. As she glanced about the deserted room to pictures on shelves and paintings on the walls she saw them all, her Mother Lillian had been endowed with these scarlet tresses as was her grandmother and great grandmother and all the Fitzpatrick women as far back as anyone could remember. Serena had waist length thick shinning black hair strong and silken which always seemed to hold on to the last scent of her perfume. She had inherited her grandmothers bright blue eyes however, the color of sapphires and clear running streams. It was with these eyes that she now looked about the old House. This beloved house which had held so many generations now to be shut up and used no more, the fine legged furniture covered in sheets, scattered about the wood floors and thick Persian rugs looked like ghosts to Serena. When the housemaids moved through the rooms upstairs closing up the house Serena longed to hear the laughter of her Grandfathers rich barrel chested voice echoing up those stairs one last time.
She had always loved this house, with its curving banisters, intricate crown molding and Ivy covered lattices, and she had done ever since she had been a very young child. Baking cookies with Martin in the Chefs Kitchen, making faces at her reflection in the funny copper pots and helping him polish the old silver which still bore the Fitzpatrick crest on the handles. The elegant parties her Grandmother had thrown where she could get dressed up in ruffles and bows and the parlor where she and her grandfather would play duets until she was sent up to bed with a curtsey and a pat to her bottom and later on she would stay up late and listen to the laughter and music float up the stairs like a warm breeze. She had grown up playing in the park only a few blocks away with Ms. Hathaway who watched over her just as she had done for her mother Lillian. As a teen and young adult when she would visit for the summer months every evening before Grandfather died she would walk with him through the narrow old sidewalks lined with trees and breathe deep the smell of the old gas lanterns which still lit up the dark while he told her stories of growing up in the Old country.
During the first eight years of her life she had lived nearly fulltime with her Grandparents in the brick federal style row house on Mt. Vernon Street in the old Boston neighborhood of Beacon Hill. Her grandmother had taught Serena how to read and write in her elegant hand, and provided the young girl with her first Piano a beautifully restored Steinway which had been her great-grandfathers in Ireland and a regular instructress. Since her birth however her Father Samuel D. Jordan had been trying to finalize his adoption of the little girl, and it was only during the summer months that she was allowed to see him. It had been her mothers wish but it had been her Grandmothers fierce protective nature and strong dislike of Paragon City, which she termed to be wild and uninhabitable which had slowed the adoption proceedings.
Mariah Fitzpatrick Ryan had not approved of her daughters choice to drop out of medical school and enter into the Army Nurse Corps and go to Vietnam. Mrs. Ryan did not approve of the relationship which had developed between her daughter and a dangerous rogue special ops Sergeant named Johnny Phoenix which had lasted even after the war and until the young mans death in 1982 or the hasty wedding which occurred shortly thereafter to his friend and tail gunner Samuel D Jordan. Pregnant by a dead man and living in Paragon City hundreds of Miles away Mrs. Ryan and Rosey Lee had rarely spoke, that was until Lillian had called telling her mother of her illness. Mrs. Ryan had wanted more for her daughter and now she was faced with losing both her daughter and possibly her grandchild to be. She had begged Lillian despite their shared religious beliefs to reconsider the decision to keep the child and to undergo the surgery which would save her, but stubborn to the last Lillian had refused and Grandmother Ryan had rushed down to Founders Memorial Hospital hoping for a chance to see her daughter again, but fate was cruel and Mrs. Ryan arrived only to have Lillian die on the birthing table before she had had the chance to even hold her daughters hand and see the light in her blue eyes one last time.
There was one big difference about her Grandparents home and her fathers home in exciting Paragon City, Grandmother loved to talk about her Mother, and Sam D never could bear too. Grandma Ryan called her mother by her first name Lillian and never knew a thing of her daughter after she went off to Med school. Grandmother would talk of Lillians accomplishments and how beautiful and pure of heart her daughter had been before she had been swept up into the tide of the sixties and seventies political movement and putting her life on the line she went off to war. Serenas father called her Rosey Lee the name she had gone by when they had fought in the War Together. Lillian had been a Nurse and field medic during Vietnam and her Papa would tell her stories on his very good days of her Bravery and Goodness, The memories of her Mother where to mixed up in the war for Sam D. who had really loved Rosey despite her long engagement with his best friend and had been a loving and attentive father to Serena first out of love and duty to his departed friends and then caring for the little girl for herself.
However both had agreed that Rosey Lee Jordan had been a Hero.
Serena had been named after her mother, just as she had been named after Grandmother, and in fact every woman born in the Fitzpatrick line to which she belonged had the name of Rose. It was Birthright her Grandmother said to remember those women who had come before her and to remember the woman whom had given birth to them all.
The story of a fire haired beauty from northern Gaul named Rosalind (or Rosa in Latin), who had been found sleeping in a small boat which had washed ashore from the northern sea, she was taken captive immediately by those whom had found her. She had stayed a slave for six long years and befriended another child there whom was a Roman and a Christian who showed her the power of prayer. After helping the young boy, who would later become a priest, together they escaped their Irish Slave masters, and she had served the young Romans family and followed him back into Ireland serving him and the church loyally until her death. It was said whom ever bore her name would have the blessing of God and would be able to drive out the forces of darkness. Grandmother had loved to tell the story of Rosalind to Serena when she was putting her to sleep as a child and Serena herself had spent many an hour pretending to be the fierce red headed warrior striving to protect the priest from highwaymen and rescuing him from slave traders.
Serena could not bear to sell the place or any of her grandmothers things. So she had had extra security installed and she would lock it up as it was. Nothing was to be moved or touched. Linens where to be stored and the rose garden allowed to run wild. The only thing going back with her to Paragon City would be her old Steinway piano. As the last notes of her song drifted out into the gloaming of the dyeing day she knew she would have to leave in a few moments, slip on her black high heels, white satin gloves and lower the black veil of her hat and she would slip through the city to the cemetery in the back seat of the dark Lincoln Town car alone and say goodbye to her grandmother and lay her to rest in eternal slumber beside her Grandfather just as they had planned.
As she rose and slipped on her heels, running a loving gloved hand over the black shine of the pianos curves, shutting up the instrument and pocketing the key, she went to the front door and looking around the house one last time, lowering the small veil of her hat while a single tear drop fell to the threshold below. All of these memories of her earliest days had come rushing back to Serena, telling their stories like old women before a fire demanding to be heard. There was still so much more she had to do before she could come back here secure of everything, free of all her torments and obligations. She felt a change coming upon her lately, like a ledge one does not notice until it is almost too late. When she was delivered of her burden then she would come here to rest and fight no more, she would lead a peaceful life of safety and gather those she loved around her where they need not fear the darkness anymore. This she vowed as she slid into the smooth back seat, and moving silently through the dusky streets she said goodbye. -
Quote:If you need any help at all Warp I'd be glad to lend a hand I'm a great little coordinator and have run SG's before, though usually I'm the event coordinator / secretary. I'm good at layouts, interview process and story teller / organizer, but I shine with planning events. ( see sushi schoolgirl squad boy girl dance, Halloween costume party and winter event.) SO if you need anything I'm here as I'm sure many others are as well. I enjoyed my time being in the GA's and I would like to help out in any capacity I can, just send me a PM.Originally Posted by Warp_Factor
I should probably elaborate on that a little, we don't really have anything at this point in terms of formal... anything. We're just sort of getting our feet, getting new characters out of Praetoria so they can join an SG, get reacquainted with the game itself, etc. I don't want to dissuade anyone from showing interest, but just be aware that recruitment up until this point hasn't even been discussed in any but the most general terms, as something for the future.
Gimme a day and I'll get the bare bones of an application and related stuff up, I'm on my lunch break right now and can't really work on it just yet.
Cheers
~K -
:Points to Flea: hediditwasn'tmeIdidn'tdoitdontbeatme!
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((Ok but I want to play Coach.... ;P))
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((I LOVE me some Zombies (not in that way eww pervs) I actually even have a Special Op's Character Zombie Survivalist who grew up in Dark Astoria, before and after the clouds moved in (in fact she still does) I am going to reroll her as a Zombie Mastermind and bring her blueside. As for rejoining the GA's I'll definitely consider it if there are no objections from the current members.))
Quote:Originally Posted by DrJackWolfe
Seri,
The GA is not the GA you remember, the name was sued out of existence and taken into the custody of the PPD (Long OOC story I'll tell ya some time, not drama filled hate, just some laziness on the part of the older members). I've gathered some of the original GA and put together and new group of Legends called strangely enough "The New Urban Legends" (which of course if funny cause the "New" legends actually has more of the original members then the other two groups sitting on the name, think New Teen Titans I guess, Lizzy can be Starfire.) We are in, essence, starting over....again.
(Basically we're still writing the back-story of how GA broke up/got stolen and collecting into a coalition of teams. We run two active OOC chat channels and an IC coalition between the .....publicly acceptable NUL team and a more aggressive vigilante team called the Blood Angels. There is a lot room to develop the story from scratch ie Avengers Reborn or something. Current members include Warp Factor, Caios, Fenix, Marial Martog, Shadowstormm and associated alts, plus a very good crew vera good RPrs, most of whom you've met. We're setting up now, rebuilding the prestige, base, ect. Once the first two groups are strongly established we're looking at setting up a Wolfepack team that works for Jack. Original concept was a team in Wolfetec armor, but I'm thinking more a private "Fringe" division with suits, pistols, and psychics to go after weird stuff. We don't have an application, we used to do interviews, but Seri would just be coming home....and where Seri goes so does Liz Oh, and we have a bit of a Zombie fetish....but it doesn't bleed into game...unless you count Caios, though if you call her a zombie she bites you.)
(link to the prologue http://theymightbezombies.proboards....play&thread=15 ) -
:Looks down at herself dressed up as a catholic school girl, then looks at the tekilya in her other hand:
Wow my husbands going to love you guys for this, but it wont get rid of my issues with Lotus notes and my internal server.... -
Oh Ninja Run how do I love thee? Let me count the ways....Time passes
Night falls.....
Sunrises.....
Night falls.....
Sunrises.....
Night falls.....
Sunrises.....
I love you THIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS Much!
I dont need to pick a travel power because I already have one! All I need now to be happy are corsets, textural revamp of the costume creator and more sit down stances / emotes that dont flash your panties at everyone. -
:trudges in and collapses into an overstuffed bean bag chair in her corner:
Its been a monday someone shoot me and put me out of my misery, better yet shoot my work comp and put me out of my misery! -
Quote:If you met Lizzy you would remember her, she's just that scarring!Originally Posted by Ellis
I'm not sure what kind of character Lizzy is, or whether you even know me, but Guardian Force is still pretty active and has been around since launch. Once a week, we do mission arcs in the AE that have been custom designed by either Plasma Stream or a member of GF, and often are multi-week plots. It's RP along the modern JLA kind of vein, for the most part.
http://www.guildportal.com/Guild.aspx?GuildID=70323
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Rose Maiden
Lenny Kravits Cover of American Woman Its what I listen to when leading a TF, that and The Doors 20th Century Fox -
If my level of fun is comparative to my equal level of exhaustion I would say I had a blast.
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Since I'm just back myself and know about as much as you do on the who's active and who's not RPSG situation all I can add is I heard through the grape vine the GA's might be looking, I enjoyed my short time with them, then theres the PK's Grae's good peoples, I'm not really sure who else is out there, who is new etc. I would join an SG but I have really low drama tolerance.
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Favorite Hero
Quote:Favorite Anti-HeroOriginally Posted by Lady_Cyrsei
My concept for my main was "What if Superman was a chick?" I am a HUGE Wonder Woman fan (I used to have the book detailing all of Princess Dianahs adventures (a compendium of all her early issues) and her origin story on cassette tape http://www.wonderwomancollectors.com/wwrecord23.html I was 3 years old and basically learned to read from this book) and since I am such a huge Princess Dianah fan I wanted to do both Superman and Wonder woman tribute, so Rose Maiden was a homage to both, like a super hybrid. Kal-L's powers, with the gear of Wonder Woman (Seri's tiara, belt, costume and cape clasp all have stories behind them and give her a power (fitness and medicine and flight) but her back story is her own as well as personality.
Edward F Rochester - Jane Eyre
Favorite Villain
Dr. Rappucinni - Rapuccini's Daughter By Nathaniel Hawthorn
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An RP community who actually Role Plays and not just argue about cannon?!
I know this seems like an odd statement "of course we rp" you might say, but I guess when I was here for so many years I took for granted not all RP communities are so willfully creative as this one and so willing to just let go of the bs and just Role play. It took coming back after a year absence to really appreciate that and upon my return it was like a nervous twitching muscle formed by months of annoyance finally relaxed, its only been two weeks and I've seen more rp than I have in a year in other MMOs. -
It's all good JJ no reason to get stressed and as I said before quite sincerely;
Quote:Originally Posted by Lady_Cyrsei
Sounds like fun though, I love my plantroller, good luck to all involved! -
I was simply pointing out what you said here ;
Quote:however it is your prerogative to be paranoidSo, something we've(My SG/VG) been working on.
Friday is our "official" All Plant ITF. There was one before hand, where many of us, couldn't make it.
So I figured I'd extend this out all of Virtue. If your interested, Show up Friday Sept 3rd.
Aww JJ thats sweet you remember me, its nice to see you haven't changed a bit yourself.