Lady_Cyrsei
-
Posts
563 -
Joined
-
Quote:((Could always write bout some epic wave Jack caught, or perhaps how / when he learned to surf? I would read the hell out of that!))Originally Posted by DrJackWolfe
((Surf Bum, how do I write a story about being a Surf Bum)) -
6:45am to 6:45pm +2 hour commute... is my day over yet?
-
Quote:Thanks I'm glad you enjoyed them so far I've done 5 already this week not sure how many more I'll do before the week is out though I'll be sure to post them here as soon as I've compiled them for my week 5 updateOriginally Posted by the_fox_Rox
I don't know that i've ever seen anyone show up with such a prolific profile. Sometime 2 or 3 drawings but wow. And the best thing is they are good too! I didn't look for long cause they give me funny looks at work if i do, but i will come back and give them all a more thorough once over.
-
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 chosen profession?
((The next series of stories for now will be about another character of mine, a Vigilante whom goes by the name of Captain Sophie Storm and Farsighter respectably, I hope everyone enjoys it!))
Dockside, Port Oaks, the Rogue Isles.
It was a miserably rainy night in the sprawling portion of town forever called Dockside by its inhabitants. The shadow of Fort Hades loomed close and only those whom where up to no good would have ever considered coming out in any weather to this particular part of town. As you slog your way through the streets you see before you the stone faced building just ahead with its darkened windows and the dark alley leading to the real doorway guarded only by one man, dead and tacked to the wall by his own blade.
As you approach the door, the eyes of the dead man follow you, or seem to, and as your hand balls into a tight fist to knock three times upon the door the corpses mouth slowly opens and beginning to moan the dead mans hand reaches out for you. Thankful you are when the gorilla of a man, sour faced with a sloping protruding forehead lets you in out of the cold, cold rain and the garish and bloody night.
You had come to this place in search of this fabled gunfighter, the merciless witch and gunslinger whom you where told managed terrible feats of stunning accuracy and practiced a form of necromancy so barbarous as to make any assassination she decided to take a sure bet but who’s demand for payment was told to come with a horrific cost. No mark she took would remain alive this was fact most assuredly given and no one better at obtaining and coercing information from any person living or dead. All would sing and die like the ill fated zombified canary that was rumored she kept with her at her side.
The white haired stranger sat with her back to the wall, her head was bowed a black duster of a hat was pulled low, where above a pair of dark government issue sunglasses a pair of storm grey eyes arrest you with their vivid ferocity. She leans forward when you approach taking her booted heels from off the table directly before her. As you take your seat in front of her, the bright yellow little bird hops toward you which had but a moment ago been eating from out of her hand. Now it stands on the table before you blinking at you with beady eyes, its beak stained with blood. The creature begins to warble and then to sing a melancholy song stopping only when she holds up a hand for silence when you begin to ask her name.
Her voice is soft and sibilant like the sound silk makes when it passes over leather, there was an odd lilt to her words which bespoke a place far away and the dark tan told of foreign lands where the sun was a harsh glare and not of this stormy island place. There was a slow fluidity to her limbs each placed with a deliberate grace like the most dangerous snake or skilled dancer. She took off her hat and running a small hand through ghostly white hair she sets her hat upon the table between you and slinging a leather clad arm across the back of her chair she studies you with cool deliberation.
You tell her of your goal, the target which you seek, her gaze remains impassively calm. She reaches out to the small silver lighter and the matching cigarette case which is set to one side on the table before her, between the canary to her left and the wide brimmed hat to her right. She flips the case open and revealing a row of hand rolled sweet smelling cheroot cigarillo’s the scent of rich tobacco, sandalwood and clove thick and cloying to ones senses. She snaps the case shut after offering you one, a polite gesture for one who seems so removed from all things civilized. She shrugs as you decline or leaning forward she holds the small lighter before you setting the end of your cigarillo alight.
She hears you out, listening to your long tale, your plight, your self deluded reasoning for seeking her out to kill a man. She listens with keen observation and interest to the details which you pour forth all in hopes of finding the one you seek. You can not help wondering why you told her so much, opening up to this stranger like she was a long trusted friend or loved one.
Could it be she had soft and kindly face, beautiful in a Mediterranean way really? Was it the expression of her lips which seemed always smiling or the earnestness in her wintery eyes which showed that she was truly listening? No none of these things where right, you could almost place your finger upon it the reason for your confessions, and there it sat seemingly harmless in her hand, the cigarette case showed your reflection in its polished face. The simple spell she had woven had entranced you, the one who sat before her loosening your tongue to show your real self and motivation the real reflection of the one whose image was caught in its gleaming silver surface.
When she asks if you are aware of the price of her services, you hesitate here, still caught in the knowledge of her simple though effective witch craft. She gives you a soft charming throaty laugh and a cocky smile, one that adds a devilish gleam to her silver eyes. She leans forward intimately before you her leather jacket opening to give you a most interesting sight. In several holsters strapped about her body are various instruments, guns of all makes and models, knives, all deadly shapes and sizes, a stun baton, three small black thin packages, two bandolier’s filled with strangely carved bullets and nestled neatly between her breasts having fallen free from her simple black T-shirt a silver snowflake medallion at its center a sapphire as blue as morning skies.
Her voice startles you, she catches you staring, the silvery strands of her hair gleaming in the pale light of the bar. You feel you are alone here only the two of you, your senses dulled lulled by her soft words spoken for only your ears to hear them. “My payment is simple beyond the sum you discussed with my agent I demand payment in spirit as well as in blood. The one whom you seek may be used in payment or another may be substituted but know this I will have my due even if it is your blood and your soul which I keep. Do you agree?”
You give an almost imperceptible nod and she leans back seemingly pleased.
-
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 chosen profession?
((The next series of stories for now will be about another character of mine, a Vigilante whom goes by the name of Captain Sophie Storm and Farsighter respectably, I hope everyone enjoys it!))
Dockside, Port Oaks, the Rogue Isles.
It was a miserably rainy night in the sprawling portion of town forever called Dockside by its inhabitants. The shadow of Fort Hades loomed close and only those whom where up to no good would have ever considered coming out in any weather to this particular part of town. As you slog your way through the streets you see before you the stone faced building just ahead with its darkened windows and the dark alley leading to the real doorway guarded only by one man, dead and tacked to the wall by his own blade.
As you approach the door, the eyes of the dead man follow you, or seem to, and as your hand balls into a tight fist to knock three times upon the door the corpses mouth slowly opens and beginning to moan the dead mans hand reaches out for you. Thankful you are when the gorilla of a man, sour faced with a sloping protruding forehead lets you in out of the cold, cold rain and the garish and bloody night.
You had come to this place in search of this fabled gunfighter, the merciless witch and gunslinger whom you where told managed terrible feats of stunning accuracy and practiced a form of necromancy so barbarous as to make any assassination she decided to take a sure bet but who’s demand for payment was told to come with a horrific cost. No mark she took would remain alive this was fact most assuredly given and no one better at obtaining and coercing information from any person living or dead. All would sing and die like the ill fated zombified canary that was rumored she kept with her at her side.
The white haired stranger sat with her back to the wall, her head was bowed a black duster of a hat was pulled low, where above a pair of dark government issue sunglasses a pair of storm grey eyes arrest you with their vivid ferocity. She leans forward when you approach taking her booted heels from off the table directly before her. As you take your seat in front of her, the bright yellow little bird hops toward you which had but a moment ago been eating from out of her hand. Now it stands on the table before you blinking at you with beady eyes, its beak stained with blood. The creature begins to warble and then to sing a melancholy song stopping only when she holds up a hand for silence when you begin to ask her name.
Her voice is soft and sibilant like the sound silk makes when it passes over leather, there was an odd lilt to her words which bespoke a place far away and the dark tan told of foreign lands where the sun was a harsh glare and not of this stormy island place. There was a slow fluidity to her limbs each placed with a deliberate grace like the most dangerous snake or skilled dancer. She took off her hat and running a small hand through ghostly white hair she sets her hat upon the table between you and slinging a leather clad arm across the back of her chair she studies you with cool deliberation.
You tell her of your goal, the target which you seek, her gaze remains impassively calm. She reaches out to the small silver lighter and the matching cigarette case which is set to one side on the table before her, between the canary to her left and the wide brimmed hat to her right. She flips the case open and revealing a row of hand rolled sweet smelling cheroot cigarillo’s the scent of rich tobacco, sandalwood and clove thick and cloying to ones senses. She snaps the case shut after offering you one, a polite gesture for one who seems so removed from all things civilized. She shrugs as you decline or leaning forward she holds the small lighter before you setting the end of your cigarillo alight.
She hears you out, listening to your long tale, your plight, your self deluded reasoning for seeking her out to kill a man. She listens with keen observation and interest to the details which you pour forth all in hopes of finding the one you seek. You can not help wondering why you told her so much, opening up to this stranger like she was a long trusted friend or loved one.
Could it be she had soft and kindly face, beautiful in a Mediterranean way really? Was it the expression of her lips which seemed always smiling or the earnestness in her wintery eyes which showed that she was truly listening? No none of these things where right, you could almost place your finger upon it the reason for your confessions, and there it sat seemingly harmless in her hand, the cigarette case showed your reflection in its polished face. The simple spell she had woven had entranced you, the one who sat before her loosening your tongue to show your real self and motivation the real reflection of the one whose image was caught in its gleaming silver surface.
When she asks if you are aware of the price of her services, you hesitate here, still caught in the knowledge of her simple though effective witch craft. She gives you a soft charming throaty laugh and a cocky smile, one that adds a devilish gleam to her silver eyes. She leans forward intimately before you her leather jacket opening to give you a most interesting sight. In several holsters strapped about her body are various instruments, guns of all makes and models, knives, all deadly shapes and sizes, a stun baton, three small black thin packages, two bandolier’s filled with strangely carved bullets and nestled neatly between her breasts having fallen free from her simple black T-shirt a silver snowflake medallion at its center a sapphire as blue as morning skies.
Her voice startles you, she catches you staring, the silvery strands of her hair gleaming in the pale light of the bar. You feel you are alone here only the two of you, your senses dulled lulled by her soft words spoken for only your ears to hear them. “My payment is simple beyond the sum you discussed with my agent I demand payment in spirit as well as in blood. The one whom you seek may be used in payment or another may be substituted but know this I will have my due even if it is your blood and your soul which I keep. Do you agree?”
You give an almost imperceptible nod and she leans back seemingly pleased.
-
I'm glad your having a great birthday, and I'm very glad you liked it go right ahead and post away its your gift arts after all ^^
-
This sounds dirty...I need a pedicure and a brain bleach stat!
-
Happy Birthday X2
-
Happy Birthday!
-
Quote:Sorry to hear that about the rp neighborhoods, V and I always tried to bring as much excitement and activity as we could to the place its a shame that they went stagnant like that. I'm not surprised y'all kept in touch however those above as well as yourself really where the active ones anyway.Originally Posted by Katja Armitanis
Hey there, Cyrsei! I thought that was you, but wasn't entirely sure.
RP Prompts are still going strong over in LOTRO and I post them every Wednesday on my writing blog (the Writer link below).
Wildore has pretty much gone the way of the do-do and future neighborhood efforts died out after the Shire 'hood was established. I don't hear anything about events going on in either place anymore. I shut down the Wildore website a few months back and forwarded the address to my guild/rarely updated site. A few of the Wildorians visit now and then, but I don't hear from most of them. I've only managed to keep in touch with Lynxa, Lainie, Kailis, and Lokath. The rest have either gone silent or dormant.
F2P has been a bag of mixed blessings. I established MyLOTRO United after Turbine tanked the blogging community on MyLOTRO -- some people had their entire blogs wiped out, others weren't able to post, some had no problems at all, but it still hurt the blogging community a lot.
They also introduced something called the "layer" system, which creates multiple instances of highly populated areas, so finding random RP at the Prancing Pony has become difficult and a major labor of love for a lot of people, since to get on a "layer" with someone involves setting up a raid and inviting people to the raid so they can merge onto the layer all the RP'ers are on. It's a pain.
On the other hand, there are a lot more people running around at all different levels. I don't notice the hardships of missing content and what-not since I still have an active subscription. I like being able to buy all the pretty outfits and stuff with Turbine Points rather than having to grind out Skirmishes, but I think it also detracts from a lot of the effort that goes into it -- that whole feeling of accomplishment.
I still play, just not as often as I used to. Most of my characters I level with my husband and he works nights now, so we don't have much opportunity to play together. Plus, with my writing and all, my playtime tends to be sporadic anyway. I figure COH is something I can tinker with in my relax-time.
I never had much hopes for the landrovel rp community doing very well with FTP change and the "layer"system you speak of seems atrocious and difficult to work around. I'm also sorry to see skirmishes go I enjoyed those very much.
As for the rp prompts I loved the idea so much and as I usually start up rp threads here on virtue I thought I'd adopt it. Going to be posting one later today if your up for it like old times sake?
Catch me up in game @RoseBride I play on weekends as I did on lotro, there are plenty of events going on and people are really friendly here and engaging. You might also want to check out the RP and fan art forums.
/e hugs
ttyl Tala! -
This sounds awesome! <3 RHPS I'll try and make it
-
Quote:I would Vexxy but I lost all my former art (including 3 sets for my College portfolio which I had prepared to send off to Art colleges that week), at the time in a major flood in 97 and then afterward what remained was stolen by looters before we could get back to board up our house. This was basically the huge trauma which kept me from picking up drawing again for so long.Originally Posted by VexXxa
I'd love to see pics of some of your other work that your used to do!! -
Three pieces done today include;
Negative Breaker
Dragonberry
I've always said if any celebrity would portray Rose Maiden Angelina Jolie would be it.
Entitled: Morning Glory -
Well no sheet, Taelasyn while I live and breath, hey girl! :hugs: glad you could make it now someone can help me run the rp prompts every Wednesday for this place Hows Wildore doing? Hows the community, and FTP going? Tell me everything!
-
I'm definitely getting a lot of inspiration from what I'm finding in signatures, kind of sluggish this week as I'm trying out a new schedule at work so my creativity is slow going. Three pieces so far, one yesterday 2 so far today I currently work in pencil as that's all I have handy but I used to also work in inks water colors, pottery,, batiking and wax but I'm a poor bugger now with a lot less disposable income on renting a space for my wheel and art supplies etc.
-
here I was expecting transvestites and cross dressers....hmmm I need a pedi though my purple passion has started to chip...
-
Nah an hour each way, but still leaving the house at 5:30 am is not fun times...
-
Thanks Stormmy, I dont know why but that image just was stuck in my mind yesterday and it had to come out. Anywho glad to see your back and around again come into vent sometime soon, we'll get the train a runnin' for ya
-
Monday
Title: The day you left -
Just barely got home 6:45 - 5:30, four tens this week plus a 2 hour commute is killer!
-
*hugs back*
Heya Fedor whats shakin? -
my only excuse is that I was born a blond
-
have you ever had one of those moments where you realize only to late to find you might have made a complete fool out of yourself unwittingly?
*is having one of THOSE mondays...* -
Quote:These are great suggestions! I'm a lefty and by the time I'm even partially satisfied with the piece my hand is covered in graphite. I'm a major scribbler as well and I go through an obscene number of erasers, i try the best I can to clean up the pieces before posting them however and if I have time go over them a little in photo shop to erase any major mistakes or line them quickly. Thanks Neko and PS for your support and your right practice practice practice, my only problem right now is running out of erasers, finding time to ink and color my current work and finding enough heroes to draw!Originally Posted by VexXxa
The only suggestion I can make is perhaps not to draw as hard on the paper so when you try to erase and redraw, it won't show up as much. Perhaps draw lightly and once you have the lines where you want them, go over them with a darker pencil.
Also, to help prevent smudging, place a tissue on the part of the paper where you rest your drawing hand and as you move that hand while you draw, lift it up instead of dragging it.
That's what I do when I draw.
Keep up the good artz!
-
Thanks Vexxa, I was on a real roll last week, hopefully I can keep it up. Any support or suggestions would be greatly greatly appreciated.