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      Vote for Valucre [March]   03/24/2017

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Haelstrom

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About Haelstrom

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  • Birthday 12/07/1989

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    haelflame

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  1. Interesting debate. Bit of a rambling side-note to this topic but it's one I've given thought to often. Don't see my contribution as a debate point because it's totally not something I can defend outside of "I feel.." For context, I'd identify as a nondenominational Christian. I've several sects and denominations that make up my extended family's belief structures. The major issues with my perception of what entails God is that I must fully admit: it's all subjective bullshit on my end. It's all how I'm wrapping up what I see and think to reach an endpoint. I can't justify using that to sway someone else, which is probably why I'm against proselytizing in general. That said, my take: there is an ultimate and outright existence, a supreme knowledge or system in functionality. "God" as a working title fits. However, much of religious texts concerning such an entity are blurred telephone-game, self-serving warped amalgamations of what would have served a civilization's norms at their time. There could be truths within those lies, and so I can't deny them wholesale, but there are countless censorships, falsehoods, etc mingled within; by design, to coopt divinity with their own values, in order to grant those values power. To this end, I'd break down the Argument of Imperfection variant of the problem of evil at step one. For reference: I essentially believe God is in some capacity, not omniscient or not omnipotent. This is the only rationale that fits why "he" could be the third trait, benevolent, and still allow the functionality of what we perceive as greater evil. This is again, flawed in that I am projecting into a super intelligence in concept, but essentially - assuming I could not see all eventualities and could not achieve all results, but had great power to influence systems and forms of change regardless, I could only achieve the widest range of stimuli by allowing the most opportunities. This is argued under "free will" in concept. Assuming such a premise is valued (and even exists, given brain chemistry, predispositions to behavior, etc) - could you have it if there was not strife? Could a person, assuming we grant higher virtues more worth than just chemical reactions, house deeper "human" conditions if they did not experience suffering? I honestly don't believe so. Experience is a form of knowledge that transcends languages and passed on information. So I guess somewhere in my head, God as a concept is like a forum admin that never posts on the forums itself and doesn't get involved when people do sick and twisted shit over private messages, but facilitates the system by which people create their own worlds, values, and meaning. Not some perfect being, not loved by everyone, and not necessarily brimming with kindness- but is the catalyst for which all that follows is to owe thanks. Some people will get really salty about them not doing shit, but that's fine because those salty people will eventually "retire." Go AFV, so on. Hm. Pretty heathenistic now that I type it out. Anyway, inwardly I have more of an acceptance of the spiritual and the occult than I'd like to rationalize to admitting. For instance, much as I know it's all a crock of shit, I admit to getting an endorphin rush when being given a Tarot Card reading. Likewise, somewhere in me is the acceptance of most Biblical events. It's a lot of doublethink I have a very hard time reconciling, so I just don't.
  2. Will start getting these detailed out again. Not sure what I'll do next yet but, I'll figure that out eventually.
  3. -
  4. Surprisingly, not even the slightest change to his expression came as a result of her first query. In fact, after a long beat, his cheeks rose in an appreciative smile with brimming white teeth sharpened unnaturally. "It is as you expect. My land could have forewarned you and chose not to." Darting his medallion of social status between his right hand's nimble fingers now absent mindedly. Were it not so relaxed, one could try to read into it as some sort of nervous bodily tick or behavior but simply put: that was not the case. Confidence exuded from every inch of his person. "I am sorry of course, speaking informally, for this. Yet I feel no need to lie or gift you false words that Zine is a place of boundless compassion; it is not. Had this keep been utterly purged from the land and your head put on a pike, it is probable my emperor would have sought conference with Dasua Barony instead. No; had results turned and you had massively triumphed, but Dasua still existed, the outcome would have been the same. To receive our aid, and not the scorn my flag represents, you must both have shown the strength to persist.. and the fragility to accept a debt imbuing helping hand." Barsait closed his lips to slightly bow his head in recognition of these words. He felt no need to elaborate much further. He trusted this woman was clever enough to work out that it was too late to decline Zine's aid, although he had severe doubt she could work out just how permanent their bond had became already. Lesser ranked agents had already infiltrated the outskirts of this majestic land; the towns people already had Zine Grain ingested into their bodies. Omi had to grant that he had no love for any of this, seeing it as barbaric behavior that ushered in a bloodbath, but.. His hands were tied in resignation. Though he had grasped many wonderful gifts in his travels, even he knew his reach and strength was nothing in comparison to Emperor Zine himself. Like a hair in the wind unto a nightmare that could grasp the sky itself. There was no refusal. While he could bend the rules somewhat to offer small mercies, the Crimson Prophet knew what would result. What had resulted before. The children's spines still dangled in his mind's ey- "Hm?" Snapping from his own momentary discomfort, he had been asked something truly bizarre. He did indeed recognize the name of the location she spoke of, for Omi had business there for some months. However.. the rest of her inquiry was far more unusual. "Sorry, lordess, but I'm afraid I've never met a queen of any kind. Let alone in those slums. No, if we've ever met, I apologize in my impropriety - I do not recall it. And although I confess I do enjoy fisticuffs, I don't do so in alleyways; that's a probable way to be flanked and killed. Especially there." Smile having faded to a look of moderate confusion that dimmed his radiant expression, Barsait didn't appear to be trying to craft a tale. He truly had no idea what she was on about. Which, given his absurd and trademark attire, made "got people confused" an unlikely cover. This was concerning. If this was some mad queen that mistook him for a jilted lover of some type from her girlhood days, his presence in this room was a risk he didn't much care for anymore. However, he would stay seated for now- although noteworthy was that his hand's rapid motions of the medallion had ceased entirely.
  5. .
  6. .
  7. A chair. Omi preferred standing when possible. Back against a wall to relieve the tension of his muscles, but still keep his body upright and ready for threats. Still, when the leader of a nation offered you a seat, what good did it do to deny that token politeness? In his homeland, men had their heads forcibly removed from their necks for less. No, he would give a curt and lower bow still, before waltzing over to grasp the nape of that ornate chair and draw it backwards for his body to wrestle into. Comfortable cushioning and design, aside from the arms forcing him to break etiquette rule #1 and placing his elbows onto the fine mahogany table. Such it was. Eyes sparkling with a hint of excitement, Barsait nodded his head upon resting his gaze on the baroness before him. "Ah yes. Please, it is the least we could do. You see, my empire is, save for their emissary program, landlocked between a hostile nation and an unassailable wilderness. You could say it is a blessing & curse, Zine both being allowed to exist in a cold conflict's peace, and being ensnared where it exists now. So foreign affairs.. are pivotal to my emperor. They're how we gain new information. Seek new advancements for our technological splendors." Suddenly chuckling with a rueful tune, he added: "Advance scouts likely knew your land was doomed to its future conflict before the first torch took to your grass, if you'll pardon my forwardness. I imagine you would be concerned over how timely my patron's aid came. I make no excuses for my homeland; they're opportunistic vultures, only instead of eating the dead and dying, they prod the carrion along to life. Not a bad deal, no?" Relaxing his posture to rummage into his jacket's pockets, he manipulated out a golden metal object with some struggle. It looked to be a badge of some type, taking the shape of a human hand outstretching its fingers for eternity. His fingertips toyed with the object. Likely a medallion made to represent his status as a state official, as any documentation with the aforementioned supplies would also bear the symbol of this hand upon them. Noteworthy was a right hand's orientation in the design. Of course... no. Barsait showed no signs of recognizing Red Yusuke. To him, this just appeared to be an affluent younger woman giving him customary interview. It was not to say her life, and his misdeeds to it mattered so little to him, as much as the memories of such a time were lost to him. A dark city boasting magical portals; a time in his life when he did not bear the patch of mask which was now firmly embedded into his face. Women courted and departed, wealth gained and lost, and all the depravities mankind had to put on display had gripped The Man in Red with the desire to torment. To escape that snare, and the countless that would sit silently in wait ahead, cost him. No, perhaps he never remembered laying a harmful finger upon this baroness to begin with. Another trial; to atone for misdeeds he couldn't even remember or articulate. It was not unheard of. Unbeknownst of this, he seemed to be awaiting word patiently before he would bring up topics of his own any further. He had a few subjects to broach. His glowing praise of the elven student, Ingrid. Perhaps it would amount to nothing, but it was a start. A brief summary of meeting the unnatural part-dragon child Arashi, along with her new demoness host; the potential threats.. The intent for Barsait to be living here along with obtaining property to facilitate as much. Given his new.. hopefully temporary role as gardener to this green bud that would produce bountiful fruit to feast upon in the future.
  8. Expectations were made only to be broken. 15 minutes was the time it took. Fairly short interval of time all things considered. Disturbingly brief in fact. For then, one could hear muffled shouts, voices of discontent, and a motor. A motor whirring to life? Wrrrrrrn? ".. Quite right quite right," loudly boomed over the noise. It sounded like something of an argument was being raised then dropped then raised again. After several moments, the noise halted. Shuffling led to the double doors parting. And there, leaning in head first before his lanky form followed, came a bizarre sight. A man with lengthy brown hair that waved past his shoulders, a dapper grin on his face subdued by tired looking eyes, and a bizarre red leather mask taking up the upper left quadrant of his face. Striking features included his absurd red jacket which had two massive serpent heads mounted on its shoulder regions, parted at the center to expose dark torso armor with a ceremonial ruby red within the crest. His uniform was at once mixtures of some foreign military's knight garb and something far more bizarre; almost a mockery of the order which they represented. "Hello. May I enter?" Presuming the answer as his lengthy dark boots that seemed to hold rigid form by metal shank clapped inward, the man crossed his right arm over his mid-gut and made a standing bow with closed eyes. Red Yusuke was the name of their leader. A woman. The guard detail made it clear as much. Truth be told, the name did seem familiar.. but he could not place to what he owed the memory. Nor did it matter to him. This was all a formality. Barsait's talent and pride would take hold here; if that meant some resurged leader of this upstart kingdom had to gaze down at him with contempt than so it would be! So it would be. The wheels of fate's treachery would not allow these actors, "Red," nor even Omi himself to escape its grasp; that wasn't how the rules of this game worked. Zine was already here. More than this woman, regardless of the feats of her leadership, could ever know. The only choice to be made was to play the game well. "Forgive me. My name - is Omi Barsait of the majestic kingdom of Zine. My leader, his holy emperor Aleksander Nicolai Zine, gives his regards. He would appear here himself but, our border disputes are dire. His attendance is, I'm afraid, impossible for the time foreseeable. I act as his emissary. A pleasure to meet you. What would you seek to discuss with one such as myself?" In his posture, there appeared to be some form of a military styled salute- but rounded on the edges by lazy positioning all his own, relaxed by disregard for the presentation it was meant to represent. Even so, he seemed not to part from it, showing some form of respect to this Keep's leadership. Of note: voices outside, now no longer diluted by shut doors, seemed to be complaining about a machination and whether they should or could confiscate it. Barsait seemed unconcerned at best however, staying at attention for what may as well have been eternity.
  9. Nothing resulting from this will be sexually explicit. Just flirting the line. I dunno who reported this but, fret not! I value your safety. However, the show.. must go on~!
  10. After witnessing their unnatural departure, Omi stood still for several long moments. Then when the silence stayed constant, rotated sideways and crashed back first onto the bed of whatever poor sods had owned this quaint little structure with a massive sigh of relief. "Oh my god. That actually worked." Fingers weaving beneath his head, it seemed he had all but forgotten or perhaps lost all interest in his nudity, or the unusual circumstances by which he and Ingrid were in this building to begin with; instead letting calm flood his expression and stabilize his rate of breathing. Barsait was no weakling, nor a greenhorn to combat. Between his natural tendencies for violence and his many supernatural implements, he could hold his own in many situations. However, caught with his pants down, enclosed in a small structure, surrounded by various nonhumans with supernatural strength and untold levels of magical destruction, backed only by a woman he had in a blurred frenzy violated a short time ago prior, all within a foreign land that was at best antagonistic to his presence within it- Having survived seeing another second pass was a godsend. He had the feeling based on the verbose prophesying that female creature was babbling on about, that if he appeased their ego, it would all pan out decent enough in the short term. Enough that he felt his odds were in the 50% range at anyrate. "We can discuss our matters later, Miss Ingrid." Omi breathed in raspily, looking more than content to seek the rest of the night's rest it offered. "I am adamant that I will work to repay you for your kindness, in tending to my wounds and in overlooking my error. However. I'm afraid those I am in the employ of have a bothersome habit of requiring their field agents learn for themselves the ins and outs of what lands they intend to plague. Gives them some sadistic sort of fun to leave us in the dark and drop us into .... this. Please, when you feel ready, I humbly ask that you educate me; of the leadership in this Keep and of how it has fallen so low that abominations like that absurd woman can waltz about so freely." Unfortunately, a nagging thought in the back of his head was also wanting vocalized. That Arashi girl. Unnaturally strong, hotheaded, ill informed of the world, hungry, downtrodden. Even assuming this demoness was mostly hot air, Omi felt a sting of guilt in not having killed the thieving girl when he had the chance. He could have done it somewhat mercifully. Now.. if he was cursed, as fate seemed so inclined, to meet her again- it would be as some puppet with strings of god complex fueled rhetoric guiding her limbs for what were probably whores and bastards sired from arcane filth gone awry. Barsait deemed this first day in the Keep.. a failure.
  11. Had Hayes met Liu's people, he would have agreed wholeheartedly. Simplicity was the essence of genius. For perhaps, Hayes would have crashed onto his back. Were it not for something briefly staying his visit from it that the whip tendril would likely not preempt in time to correct for. Wing Gliding. Their original function prior to moving forward was to thrust Hayes up- and although it was ever so slow compared to more dramatic flight of the supernatural beings that existed in this world, ten feet/second gave him more than enough drift to keep his body from making connection with the ground. Normally, the damaging restriction of the Water Elementalism Whip might have been enough to cut this method of rising off outright, were it prepared more suitably. However, Liu had quickly rushed into activating it to restrict Hayes as quickly as possible, eliminating this opportunity. And as for the butterfly sword in his now head aligned outstretched palm at the charging panda, it was true. Hayes had, in the thick bloodlust of combat, forgotten about it. Unfortunately for Liu, that didn't mean it somehow corked his palm's gust of unnatural onslaught like a wine bottle. It meant the approaching panda was now being blasted with both the Power Word: Butterfly, and a 100 MPH projected sword. Length first. Only a few feet away from its point of origins. A sword that, even Hayes himself wasn't aware he was ripping out of his own palm blasting ahead as a small section of his butterflies gushed over it and exploded. You see, even were a burly man to stand directly in front of his palm, they would experience the full cone blasting them backwards; it's no different with a handle mired in the center of their origin point. And if Hayes wasn't aware of the flying sword... It was altogether unlikely Liu would be able to preempt it. Preps: POWER WORD - BUTTERFLY [-1] TORPEDO STYLE OVERHEAD POWER WORD: BUTTERFLY SWORD SWING QUICKDRAW: - Weapons: Butterfly Blades x2, one unsheathed and now departed. Passives: - Butterfly Wings. Advantage: Liu's earlier approach. Close distance for ranged attack. Not using a 1 prep or above attack but only a QD, thus not deactivating the Glider passive. Running into a sword. 2,000 larvae devoured.
  12. Omi's instincts paused his forward movement even as the wired veins threatened to strike him should he move but an inch. This monstrosity was now making her presence more prominent and known. She, he would refer to her as Demoness, seemed to have some modicum of power. Otherwise the four armed abominations nearby wouldn't follow her command. It was unfortunate then, that any real means of inflicting harm in self-defense would see the frightened elf behind his back wounded. The space was too enclosed. Even as the vile gaseous perversion grew from the floor, a steeled expression grew across the man's face. Another composure change. Another shift. SPROUT Bursting out of the pores of his flesh, the now nude man- for his towel was torn asunder by the process- spawned what appeared to be countless red tendrils. Though not able to cross the room at any speed nearing this Demoness and her regal strength, they seemed to have sprout in something of a bouquet over his waist from his stomach, knees, thighs; all gulping down sections of the putrid gas into their maws before festering with fleshy warts and flopping unto the hut's floor. It was some kind of absurd filtration system, as one serpent after the next crashed onto the floor limply, festering growths that seemed to not share their condition with the nude man. The room was cast with an ill glow of their sprouting to life, as his grim demeanor gave way unto the words: "Forgive me if I have kindled your rage. Forgive me again if I have circumvented your first punishment. However, I cannot afford to be put in any less a condition than optimum given my impending audience with this land's hosts. Please excuse my impertinence." His polite cadence had returned, although it had a more finalistic ring to it. It was unfortunate that he could no longer hide his gifts. Unfortunate that his back would shine a sweaty sheen with the mark of a single watching eye. And yet still, he could not foresee himself defeating this creature; not now, not in his condition and certainly not in close quarters. It would be suicide to not, metaphorically given the fleshy vines which enclosed his position, bow his head. What folly. Here and there, he had to show subservience to the unnatural, even when armed with the unnatural.
  13. Wait what. I mean yes. I suppose I better go finish off Liu.
  14. This is where I will post both my genius profile splashes that are very good (and like 99% incomplete), and my musings on various roleplay related items. There will be 3,000 posts. Because there will be 3,000 profiles. Essentially, I created a template I roughly adhere to for a splash image here: It does the job well enough. I'll eventually create a Table of Contents for all of this linking to Valucre converted profiles and so on but, you know. Million images. I keep a .psd of each of these in the event I feel like expanding on them. Note: while the general template is uniform, pretty much nothing else is. These are also not in any particular order, which means ones I've made more recently versus ones I made when still getting used to the process will have glaring differences in quality. I'll also write down synopsis for each of these, which I started on but Valucre ate them as I got 90% done so you know. Procrastination.