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About Cinder

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  • Birthday 07/24/1998

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  1. Angus

    Person -- | Name: Aenerla Maliar | Alias: Angus | Sobriquet: - | Title: - | Actual Age: 21 | Apparent Age: 21 | Date of Birth: TBD | Race: Human, Carib | Sex: Female | Gender: Male | Orientation: Hetero | Height: 4'9" | Weight: Light | Dominant Side: Right | Physique: Thin | Eyes: Red | Hair color: Black | Hair style: Short | Skin Tincture: Tan | Domicile: TBD | Region: TBD | Affiliations: | Occupation: Fence | Nature: TBD | Alignment: Ambitious | Diety: - | Soft Spot: | Past: TBD | Likes: | Dislikes: Capability -- | Overview: TBD Attire -- | Shoulders: | Torso: | Arms: | Hands: | Hips: | Legs: | Footgear: Gear -- | Blade: Alias: Length: Hilt: Blade: Recognized Owner: Rumors -- ________ | Template Credits: Jeff / 2008 - 2010
  2. The Rabbit Hole

    Lante blinked politely, his neutral expression ironically betraying his unvoiced disagreement. Undoubtedly his master had known him only briefly, but the boy still wasn’t the best at taking any supposed criticisms. If Avvercus didn’t notice Lante’s excuse of a poker face, the tenseness of the bestial ears under his hand probably would give it away. And then the flare of temper and mental activity disappeared as if it was never there. “It is... not as if I have any experience, that would, that would give me the authority to question-” his wandering sentence was cut short by the sudden attack from Rainza. He wasn’t proud that his first decision when somebody was advancing on his master was to swiftly duck out of the way. A blood-red halo formed between his horns, its strands of magical energy flowing into his hand as he tried to remedy his cowardly act, but before he could even form his spear, she was whisked off to who knows where. The boy sheepishly unsummoned his half-made weapon, hoping nobody noticed the colors flushing his cheeks. “I- Um-, Okay...” he said, adjusting his shirt awkwardly and going to retrieve his cloak, which had dried off.
  3. The Rabbit Hole

    A sharp intake of air betrayed the emotions beneath Lante’s cynicism. Mana coursed through him, as a strange vision went past his mind: the magical energy, the light that coalesced into a ball in front of him, it felt like the hands of someone he remembered as his father, holding his newborn son. The boy was somewhat amazed, as he was fairly sure his father never met him nor held him, and the image slipped his mind as quickly as it came. Slightly shaking hands snatched the grimoire quickly, as if Lante was afraid it would disappear as quickly as it came. He flipped through the pages, as if the blank space was already filled with his future accomplishments. He silently listened to Avvercus’ explanation, too awestruck to say anything. This reverie would be quickly interrupted when an owl talked. Not just any owl, of course. The owl was probably some kind of dragon sealed inside a beast’s body, or a literal God. So Lante did his best to be respectful, glancing at his master for a moment, before speaking in a timid voice. “I’m not that kind of student, sir Ow- Odin… uh, I’m assuming you’re a sir?”
  4. Silver Sky [Taen & Yh'mi Worldrift Event, Part 2]

    While Sebastian made his way towards him, Lante still had to defend himself. Collecting himself, and recalling lessons Avvercus had taught him, he banished away his fear. Well, at least, that was the theory. He was still just as scared, but that didn’t stop him from swinging his sword. He aimed for the legs, but he did not dare advance for fear of getting bitten. As a result, the best he could do was to hold the insects at bay. That was something, at least. Lante also took the opportunity with each time he drove the creatures back to strike more at the Elder Tree, wounding the reanimated husk and making it bleed out more of the deleterious substance. Before long, he and the other adventurers had wounded the tree enough to put it back to its state of permanent dormancy, the insects around Lante dispatched by Sebastian. “And you… well, you saved mine,” he grinned weakly. The boy regrouped with the others, wincing slightly as he examined Jenn’s back. Before he could open his medic bag, however, Challara had already went to work with her healing magic (never a permanent solution, that.) As Lante did not know of the true danger of a Chhitten, he did not know he should treat Jenn further, and thus left her alone. “I um…” Lante eyeballed the remaining swarm of insects. It was true that their numbers are dwindling, but he still didn’t relish the idea of tangling with them. “ I don’t really see the need to fight them. The Elder Tree was making our path perilous, but I can’t see why we can’t have a running retreat to, say…” he looked around for where the black veins had receded off to. “Say… there! We have to track that thing to its… its source and, uh… find out what's going on.”
  5. OOC: Silver Sky

    I swear, every time I remember to post, I'm in a depressive mood.
  6. OOC: Silver Sky

    Been in a slump lately, but I'll post something when I can.
  7. OOC: Silver Sky

    I’m still in, I think maybe we ought to establish a new posting order.
  8. Spinal Chills 2017- Winners Announced

    Woah, I didn’t except to even anywhere close to top 2! (Even with the amount of submissions we had) I think I’ll be fine with a general critique, I’m still relatively a beginner and I feel I won’t be able to generalize specific advice on small details into improving much, anyways. @Acies ab Vesania
  9. Spinal Chills 2017- Winners Announced

    cmon people, at least crank out a mediocre thing like I did!
  10. Spinal Chills 2017- Winners Announced

    I guess I might as well write a concept since there’s no cost to it.
  11. OOC: Silver Sky

    @Paroxysm Aw, I hope my rushed post didn't contribute to that.
  12. Silver Sky [Taen & Yh'mi Worldrift Event, Part 2]

    There was two things that were obvious now, to Lante. First, was that the Elder Tree's "unlifeline" was the veins. Second, was that the insects were another problem. Actually, make a third. The ichor was very, very bad news. There was a visceral sense that the mage found difficult to describe. He had cut through flesh before. Through bones. But the liquid flowing over his hand made him want to empty the contents of his stomach. Pushing down his rising gorge, Lante persisted in his gruesome work. It was already dead. It was already dead,' he repeated to himself, the ichor was black, yet in his mind's eye it was redder than blood. 'It's just my nerves. Everything will be fine-' Lante was helped along on letting go of his queasiness by the sounds of angry, chittering insects. Though the Elder Tree seemed to be in combat with them, both parties were the group's enemy, and Lante lengthened his scalpel into a shortsword, ready for the insects' onslaught while he bought some more time for himself with another forcefield, albeit a weaker version. The main problem was that he had no idea how to apply swordfighting to a horde of angry arachnids. "A... A little help here?" he called out, trying to hide the fear in his voice. Glory's idea to move forward and leave the enemies behind was sounding better to him by the second.
  13. The Rabbit Hole

    Lante held the mug in his hands, listening to his new master’s thoughts. He blushed a little at having implied that scholars did not help people. A little part of him naturally wanted to mention his own views, but he simply listened and nodded, taking in Avvercus’s perspective. The cozy, comfortable air of the tavern did not stop Lante from being on edge, however, as his master explained his responsibilities and allegiance. There were many awe-inspiring organizations fighting for good that the boy had encountered, even at this point of his journey. He never felt he would be given a chance to be part of one so soon. He naturally considered refusing, but the fear was only a quiet minority. Lante briefly considered his career so far. The demon mage wasn’t a hard-worker, compared to his peers. He liked to think he did what was needed to be done, what he found meaningful, and sometimes that involved a lot of suffering and hardship. There wasn’t any good reason for him to turn down such an opportunity. “I chose hardship back then, why not now?” Lante said quietly, as he reached towards the circle -there was a moment of slight hesitation, not out of noncommitment, but out of a fear of the unknown- then he firmly placed his hand down. Whatever momentous arcane pacts were being made, though, the mage would not be paying much attention to it. He was instead turning his attention to the young woman who seemed to be senior to him. Lante’s expression was habitually wary, but quickly assessed her as harmless. As in, he didn’t have to act like she was going to steal his liver. His eyes darted back and forth between Avvercus and Faye, wondering if his master might happen to be a womanizer. He certainly looked the part. The boy sipped his cooling milk tea, a little embarrassed by his own wild speculations. @Avvercus @Skyscraper
  14. Person -- | Quote: "Nothing is eternal except change." | Name: Paqare (Pronounced Pah-quar-rei) Antubrare | Alias: The Wingless | Sobriquet: The Wingless, Giantess | Title: - | Actual Age: Existed for more than sixty thousand years, though spent most of it comatose or dead. | Apparent Age: Variable. | Date of Birth: TBD | Race: Demon | Sex: Omnicompatible | Gender: Female | Orientation: Asexual | Height: 9 feet | Weight: TBD | Dominant Side: Ambidextrous | Physique: Outward appearance of a brawny female human, closer inspection reveal carapace seams. | Eyes: Not applicable. | Hair color: Does not possess hair, wears fake black hair. | Hair style: Two braided ponytails. | Skin Tincture: Pale. | Domicile: - | Region: - | Affiliations: | Occupation: Mercenary. | Nature: They are somber and seclusive, not trying much to hide their alien nature. However, they have a fascination with the world, and have a connection to nature. Despite their emotionless demeanor, they are easily annoyed and angered. | Alignment: Ambivalent | Diety: - | Soft Spot: | Past: - | Likes: | Dislikes: Capability -- | Overview: - Attire -- | Shoulders: | Torso: | Arms: | Hands: | Hips: | Legs: | Footgear: Gear -- | Blade: Alias: Length: Hilt: Blade: Recognized Owner: Rumors -- ________ | Template Credits: Jeff / 2008 - 2010
  15. Spinal Chills 2017- Winners Announced

    You know you're with writers when there is only an upper word limit.