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Lacernella Rubra

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Lacernella Rubra last won the day on June 4 2011

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About Lacernella Rubra

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    The Raptor
  • Birthday 02/12/1989

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    I am the Raptor.
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    Happy Meal.

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  1. Snap. I thought the other thread was gonna go for eternity. RIP.
  2. Hello there! Although I'm super busy right now and don't have time to jump in your Mother Gaia's Home for the Lost thread, my character Valentine (from the Floracle Flower Shop and Apothecary) would like to send several large bouquets of spring flowers for the orphanage's opening. ❤️ The flowers should last for 6-8 weeks with regular watering. Lovely idea for a new organization! 

    1. Lacernella Rubra

      Lacernella Rubra

      I will include them and tag you in my next post!

  3. Two weeks has passed since the opening of the orphanage, and Dhizzandra was overwhelmed to find twenty-eight people sent to her with only a note from Jericho. He had apparently cleaned up a brothel of ill repute, and had sent the people to a ‘safe’ location. Well, Dhizzandra has never been one to turn away from either a challenge or those in need. She welcomes them in with open arms, though a few of them are wary of her outward appearance. To placate them, she takes on a temporary appearance of a human, though the growing flowers in her vibrant sunset hair would attest differently. So, all twenty eight of them settled in, somehow, in rooms not meant for sleeping. Desks were moved, books were moved, and blankets were shared. Some of the younger children managed to crowd into a single bed, though there were complaints the next morning about sleeping positions. Dhizzandra happily gave up the Matron’s room to accommodate her newest guests, the large-ish bed able to accommodate a few more. Blankets were thin, however. Fortunately, the building seemed to keep warm through the night, though Dhizzandra would never fully divulge the reasonings why. She simply inferred that it must have been an enchantment set by the previous owners. Once full and lazy, the rules were laid out. They were simple, if you stayed, you helped. Whether it be teaching the children, or helping add to the building that would eventually house them all before they found their way out into the world to provide themselves with purpose. It seemed, many of them found this preferable to their prior living conditions, and had little qualm with it. For now, however, there were steps to recovery. Avery, one of the younger women with the group (though barely more than a child) seemed most eager to be helpful. “Are you sure I can’t help put the kids to bed?” She asks, and Dhizzandra offers her a gentle smile. “If you wish, I will not turn down the help. In the morning, we can make pancakes with jam.” The dryad offers, tucking an errant strand behind the young woman’s ear. The hesitant pleasure that lights in Avery’s eyes is more than enough reward.
  4. Children’s Refuge – Now known as Mother Gaia’s Home for Lost Souls The Children’s refuge was an orphanage based in Dougton that began with what appeared to be a hope and dream. Unfortunately, it’s headmistress disappeared and the place has been allowed to go to shambles, though there were rumors of psychic children being held captive. Since the harrowing events that set the foundation for making that dream a reality, renowned member of Justice, Dhizzandra (link in profile) has taken it upon herself to renew the building with vigor and hope. This place is to help those displaced by the civil war – while quietly helping the organization of Justice as well and could not have come at a better time. For more information on the Ophranages origins, see the related articles below. Due to Dhizzandra’s background and her own ‘mother’ being called Gaia (of Earth), she has chosen to follow in the Gaianist beliefs of peace before harm, a practice that she hopes to give to the children as well. From the psychic children’s previously house, all notes regarding any research have been sent to the appropriate people. Current orphans available for adoption are 3 children from Blairville: Peter – Age 12 – Blonde and amber eyed. He is a cautious, but brave young man who dislikes bullying. Lucy – Age 8 – Shy and slow to trust, a little bit bossy, as well. Lucy is definitely a kid who requires patience. Ruby – Age 6. Sweet and all too trusting, she’s got a sweet tooth like no other, however. – Come one, come all! Our doors are always open! Mother Gaia’s Home for Lost Souls cont’d : Children's Refuge , Dark Days , A Meeting and a Mask. , and Raising an Orphanage
  5. In Dougton, there was once an orphanage. It was capable of housing 24 children - quite the feat for a single headmistress. It was a gorgeous home with an inviting layout. Though it's headmistress had long ago disappeared, and various schemes had been planned behind it's walls, it had finally been given hope once more. Rebirth through the war, an opportunity to help. Those children displaced by the current civil war are most welcomed, with open (though slightly green) arms. The orphanage runs off of self-sustainability, a small farmyard behind the house, and lanterns to light their way. Children who come to this place are taught all the basic skills, as well as how to defend themselves to some minor degree. This is to hope that they will never become victims to tyranny, or will choose to stand against what they know is wrong. A strong sense of moral Justice is offered to those willing to learn it. For the moment, the orphanage only houses 3 children. All of them from Blairville, and consisting of one boy and two young girls. The young man, Peter(age 12), has taken it upon himself to be a protector of sorts for Lucy (age 8 ) and Ruby (Age 6). While scared and distrustful, they have come to think of the orphanage as a second home where they will be protected and safe. Dhizzandra watches over them with pleased determination. The Dryad is simply happy to have a place to belong in this world - and she is pleased to help others, as well. Children 13 Adults 18 Completion of necessary buildings 10% Important threads/children acquisition: Home of the Brave. Children currently available for adoption: Blairville children: Peter – Age 12 – Blonde and amber eyed. He is a cautious, but brave young man who dislikes bullying. Lucy – Age 8 – Shy and slow to trust, a little bit bossy, as well. Lucy is definitely a kid who requires patience. Ruby – Age 6. Sweet and all too trusting, she’s got a sweet tooth like no other, however. Izral Children: Susan – Age 14 – An older, jaded girl who was rescued by Jericho from a brothel in Izral. She doesn’t have much hope for the world, but she’s learning that not everyone is bad. Brinley – Age 8 – Young and cheerful, she takes joy in simple things. Jessica – Age 6 – Another young and cheerful child. She likes butterflies and flowers, but we aren’t into the flavor red this week. William – age 4. – This young boy loves to run in mud puddles and play with worms, as young boys tend to do. Caitlyn – Age 2 – Often influenced by William regarding bugs and mud. She particularly dislikes nap-time. Derrick – Age 10 – Idolizes Peter and wants to protect the others from ever being treated poorly again. He’s often defensive on first meetings. Jonathan – Age 1 – Babbles with attitude. Hates diapers. Andromeda – Age 6 months – Sleeps a lot, when not screaming. Daniella – Age 10 – Sullen and moody, prone to dramatics. Kendra – Age 12 – Preteen. No more need be said.
  6. “Well, shall we get started then?” Her voice is loud among the silent halls, and the woman extends out an arm, wrapping it into vines and twigs as it finds purchase in the wall. Her unique talent to tap into buildings was a boon in this case, as she stretched her limited power to repair the wood of the doorframe, though it would claim a more rustic appearance afterwards. Perhaps that was for the best, as such things were considered more home like. When she had finished, and most things repaired enough to keep the weather out, Dhizzandra withdrew and flopped heavily in a dust and moth eaten chair. “Whew.” She offers to the silence, before frowning gently. She needed something to barter with for her initial supplies. She had been provided some small coin, and gathered some here and there along the way, but it wouldn’t last long. The quiet was too much, it made her long for the tavern and the forest, and it made her heart heavy and ache with the throb of missing her child. It made her long for days where things were simple, and made her curse love. Curse herself for finding it, and curse her mending heart for giving into it so easily. Curse the man who’d filled her with such hope, too. Her frustration mounted for a moment before she let it release in a sigh. “Does no good to dwell on such things.” She mutters only to herself as she stands once more. Sweeping her gaze along it is but a moment before she is in movement again. Through the foyer and to the upstairs to check the condition of the sheets and beds. She finds them in tolerable condition, though a tad musty. Beds are expensive, anywhere you go, so that will have to wait until it is possible for them to create some revenue by selling whatever goods they make. Dougton will be a perfect place for this, as it thoroughly seems to enjoy food and well-made items. There are a few items that will need to be replaced, but most of it seems otherwise intact, if unused. The furniture in the foyer will most likely need replaced, but the dryad figures she can replace it with her own grown chairs when the time comes. Humming to herself, she turns to assess the garden, peering at it. It was just a small yard, filled with shrubs and the like. Hardly fitting for a garden – much less a playground for the children to run off any excess energy in. So, instead of touching the Earth with her powers, she kneels to pray to Gaia quietly. “Mother, please forgive any trespasses I may have made against you. I seek only to create in your name.” Dhizzandra offers gently, kneeling to press her forehead to the dirt for a long moment before she rights herself. Remaining on her knees, the Dryad begins to pluck the weeds with tender hands. She hums as she works until nightfall, happy to do so. 3/3
  7. Once Dhizzandra reached the hall, it was rather easy to get council with those in charge. She was, afterall, an outsider who claimed to want to help. They were both suspicious and wary, as they should be, but curious nonetheless. “Why should we let an outsider run our orphanage?” One of them asked, leaning forward. “Well, it wouldn’t be run on your dime, so to speak. I wouldn’t ask the city for funding. It would look really good to house the orphans from the war in your city. I met a young man when I first came here – Barric. A sweet boy who helped me when I was in need, and he told me of this wonderful village and how warm and inviting it is – wouldn’t that be something grand for all of Terenus to see?” The dryad questions. “I get to home children and help raise them, and you get the political benefit, and the benefit of holding it over the other cities heads that you have housed their war orphans. This is a wonderful agricultural city, I am of the Earth – Gaia, as we both often know her. I can make plants flourish and grow at my whim.” She beckons forth a small fern from her hair, trailing her fingers over it fondly. “So, we can benefit one another. I wish to make the orphanage as self-sustaining as possible, it will have a garden and the proper knowledge will be given to the children before they are either adopted or choose to live among the rest of the world.” She clasps her hands in front of her then, peering eagerly at the group. An older gentleman leans back, peering at her with a suspicious glint in his eyes. “And what if what you say is untrue?” “Then execute me, or punish me as per your laws. I am willing to bend to them.” Dhizzandra states, conviction in her tone. Of course, that would garner a raising of brows before they turned to murmur amongst one another. It was several moments of heated discussion before they turned back to Dhizzandra. “We will not fix the home, nor will we give you any funds. If you wish to take the home to turn into an orphanage, so be it. We will send officers every so often to check in on you, however.” “As is appropriate.” A gleaming smile touches her visage, with it, the lighted flower atop of her head brightens as she turns to head back towards the Children’s refuge. IT will take some work, but she is firm in her belief that it can be used. The door is unlocked, and the entry way in shambles from lack of use – and what is likely squatting from the homeless people that do plague the city. Though Dhizzandra hasn’t seen any, she knows they are there. They are always present. Human nature, no matter the realm, seems to run along the same basic foundation. Where there are well off and rich, greedy people, there will be those without. Nature worked in the same way. Some wolf packs ate freely, while others left behind pack members who couldn’t survive. 2/3
  8. The air was familiar, spicy and warm – like a cold winter evening huddled near a fire with a cup of cider. It fluttered on the breeze over the fields and gardens that lined the streets and outter limits of the small city – and Dhizzandra was immediately filled with a familial warmth. Some of the city looks as though it has seen better days, the small and well-built homes practical and non-imposing as they lined the streets leading in to the center. It was a quaint little city – she had to admit, and it was easy to see how such a place could produce someone like Barric. The dryad hoped he was well, as her thoughts passed to the young sorcerer who had assisted her when she first arrived in the land. She notices the lack of a Rail station, much to her disappointment. Ashton had spoken of them often, and she had wanted to see them first hand – but alas, she must wait it seems. Her nose leads her towards the Lovely Giant, and while she wishes desperately to satiate her curiosity with some of the food that Dougton is known for making – Dhizzandra has a mission. Those on the streets likely stare as the green skinned woman passes by, or perhaps they are simply used to this sort of attention, she wonders as she watches a gnome dart by – product in hand. Her attention turns back to the task at hand, however, and she meanders until she finds the abandoned building she is looking for. The Children’s Refuge was once an orphanage – if it could be called that – and over the years it has been home to many a people, both terrible and good. According to what knowledge was known, at one point it was a faux orphanage with the intention of research with psychic children behind it. All that, however, is in the past and the woman stared at the derelict building for a long moment, as if contemplating. Surely there was some sort of council she must seek to gain access. Dougton was a peaceful little village, it seemed, but she had no doubt that it’s law-abiding citizens would turn upon her. Spying a nearby officer, Dhizzanrda smiles brightly and moves to intercept. “Ah, excuse me, sir?!” Startled, the man peers at the strange flowers growing from atop her head, before raising a brow. “Yes?” “Might I ask who I can purchase a building from?” There is doubt in his gaze, and he scoffs. “You looking to settle down?” “Well, ideally, I’d like to run the orphanage. Building a home for kids who don’t have one has…kind of always been something I’ve aspired to do.” “Wellll….I suppose ya better go to the council. It’s the big building over there. Can’t miss it.” A wave of his hand in a general direction was given, and Dhizzandra pauses, blinking rapidly for a moment. “O..oh. Alright, thank you!” The dryad turns, and heads for the Town Council so that she may request permission to use the building once used by Sara Annette. The two story building had seen better days, but with some tender love and care, it could be a useful part of the city once more. 1/3.
  9. “Oh there you are!” Shanna chirps when Bull lands before her, that sickening manic grin on her visage. “I was wondering when you’d show up!” The woman offers, neverminding the guards who thought of hesitating the order to withdraw. They did, however, none of them wishing to earn the ire of their King. Shanna perks a bit, clasping her hands behind her back when he mentions a restraint of some sort – only for her magic, of course, but another pout flows across her visage. “That’s not really necessary, I’ll be fine without it. I promise no magic.” Shanna huffs, though she begrudgingly allows it to slip over her wrist. Once this is done, she skips ahead to meet up with Bull’s much longer strides, a grin plastered on her visage. “Oh. Uhm. It’s good! I found another one, and Lord Rafael, you know the guy who runs the whole East of Gen? He gave me a whole tower to myself! It’s near the base of the Cold Mountains, it’s really nice! We have a little village in the base of it, and I have a garden on the roof!” As her chattering went on, Bull might notice the distinct lack of the large white shadow of a Hellhound that usually followed her about. “Anyway, so what have you been up to?” She turns to ask, peering up at him with her large gaze.
  10. A pout wormed its way across Helaines’ features, though a purr followed at the gentle affections of Paris. His touch was welcomed, despite her irritation and fluctuating moods. Her clawed foot stretched out, splaying the talon’d toes before her golden gaze settled back on Okina as their master gave her attention. Chuffing quietly, Helaine flicks her tail as Paris explains his plans to them. Her ears swivel atop of her head as she contemplates what this means. Villages, horses, people…Helaine may have come to trust those she knew in the palace, but like any feral she was wary and untrusting of anyone beyond that. She had no true desire to see these people and she certainly got enough exercise in her training with Solomon, thank you very much. A clicking of her tongue filled her maw before she spoke. “Don’t wanna.” She huffs, crossing her arms like a petulant child. “Get plenty of cercise here. With Guri, and Sssolomon.” She hisses the guards’ name.
  11. Kelmer-6 may have been a frozen wasteland, but it had potential for earning. Otherwise they wouldn’t have been there at all. Thankfully the gear required for such the task at hand was easily gained through a few mutual …friends. Yes, friends. We’re gonna call them that. The Sweet wasn’t a magnificent ship, by any means – but it’s crew had passion for what they did – or didn’t do depending on who you asked. It was worn in all the right places, and newer in the areas that mattered. It’s co-owner (the one not freezing their butt off), was happily monitoring from the ship itself. K’Lorah, a four armed, green skinned humanoid figure (though the beak on her face might suggest otherwise) scanned over the reports that were being sent back directly by the very suit her partner was wearing. “Oh, don’t be such a sour dilly – you’re almost there! Look! Then we can eat hotpot for the rest of the month!” She chirps – disgustingly cheerful about the whole situation, of course, she wasn’t the one freezing her butt off either, so there was that. The radio crackled with static, just another part of the ship that would need fixed. ** Meanwhile, on the ground another of the shipmates (Not the yinglet, no, the yinglet was rarely allowed offship), trudged after the man contemplating murder. It was likely at one point, they too had similar thoughts, but Xahbek had voted for this mission, so he chose to remain quiet until they entered the building they had been hunting for. A grunt came from beneath the suit he wore – his large clawed hands bent at an odd angle as he gripped the rifle tight. It was a strange, Sar’tok design that accommodated his needs. Multiple eyes blinked behind his mask as they finally seemed to find the doorway. With much protest, the door finally opened and they were allowed entrance. The translator inside Xahbek’s helmet clicked on as he spoke. “Probably not, yeah? Just grab what we came for if we can find it.” He offers as they move further into the facility. The gentle thrum of an engine – however, caught his attention. “Wait…” He paused, peering into the darkness. “There’s something with power.” He pointed to a large cable across the middle of the floor. “I suggest we follow it and see where it goes?” @Howlykin
  12. Rin had an idle thought – more of a wondering, who the hell was this maid and why the hell did she know how to draw blood? In some way, her service to the vampire made more sense, but her mind simply could not fathom why…just…why. When Hudson knelt down to eye level, Rin stared at him with a rather unimpressed look. It had been a trying day – her house burned down, faerie tricks, and now blooding. Her adrenaline had gone up and down, wavering with each new thing that seemed to come up. She was exhausted and irritated. “What does the cat have to do with anything?” She practically hissed as the needle entered her body. When she had filled the bag, she withdrew and crossed her arms. Her neck was still bruised from Hudson’s antics at their first meeting and now she felt faint. Her body had endured more damage than it was used to, not to mention the amount of energy she had put into healing Hudson…Rin moved to stand when they finished, and promptly her vision went black. She fell sideways, right against Hudson – completely passed out.
  13. Eilwen startled when Q’myha came upon her, and she scowled at him, turning to face him in full. The expression on her face was a clear indication of her words. “You know I go where I please.” The scowl smoothed in the next instant, however – and became more docile as her arms snaked around his neck, drawing her lithe form closer to his own as lips sought his cheeks, pressing gently. “Besides, I wanted to see what creatures roamed the floors today…it seems I wasn’t disappointed – it’s quite a sight, isn’t it?” She murmurs into his ear, even as fingertips leave a ghostly trail over his gills. She continues this for a moment before realizing that he is concentrating on the beast. Huffing, Eilwen releases her grasp of him as she moves away, floating through the water aimlessly. The beast, however, seems settled and asleep – making Q’myha’s job much easier as he infiltrated it’s mind.
  14. “It doesn’t offend me at all!” Shanna chirps pleasantly at MorceLa’Kai. “I just…thought it was reserved for fancier people.” Meaning nobility and those versed in the ways of court. However, she gasped a bit and then giggled softly. “Queen Gabriela is with child, so I sent a teddy bear for them!” While Shanna seemed an airhead, the amount of knowledge crammed into that hamster wheel of a brain was staggering. While she normally did not concern herself with the affairs of Queens and Kings, Shanna knew it was important to be aware of those you needed, and thus treating them well in hopes that they would return the favor. Rafael had been quite kind to them so far, afterall. However, she pouted at Jaro for his ‘lesson’, an impressive display as her brows furrowed and her lower lip stuck out the tiniest bit. The pout was quickly erased when Morce promised to tell her the story of his dragon. Shanna loved many things, dragons and stories among them. Stories were probably the first and foremost, for it was stories that had sent her on the wild goose chase in which she had dedicated her life to. She turned and offered a brilliant smile to the Prince. “I would really love to hear the story, sometime!” Shanna offers as they move into the hallways. As they are waiting, she hums pleasantly as she looks around in awe. The grand architecture was even more amazing inside, and her wide gaze tried to take it all in before she was interrupted by Jaro’s outburst. A questioning head tilt is offered before she makes a soft noise as he pokes her. “What are you doing, Jaro?” The next minute seemed a rush as her clothes evolved right before her very eyes! A gentle flowing dress adorned her form and Shanna gasped at the ever changing colors – a small delighted squeak leaving her throat. The dress was simple, but far more appropriate than their travel clothes that they had worn in – while still functional. While Shanna was normally deemed ‘cute’, the way that Jaro had framed her visage and allowed the dress to flow to her body might have even deemed her beautiful. Her boots even shifted into softer, elegant slippers with a single gem at the toes. The dress itself stopped at her knees in the front and was longer in the back, because Shanna tended to be clumsy anyhow, this was probably for the best, but it came up in a sharp V, which showed far more cleavage (which just goes to say that it was showing any) than she liked. Her hands moved to her hips as she rose a brow at Jaro, but it wasn’t so much that she couldn’t tolerate it for a little while at least. “Eeee! I’m all fancy, and pretty!” Shanna gasps. “Thank you, Jaro!” The woman bounds over to hug him to her rather tightly before letting him go so that he might breathe. Her excitement carried her over to MorceLa’Kai, as well, and she embraced the prince in her glee. “Thank you both!” She chirped before releasing Morce as well, prancing over to sit at a bench to admire the fluctuation of her dress.
  15. The Princeling unfolded the doors and basked Helaine in the golden rays she so longed for, and from her throat drew the loudest purr she could muster in response. A lazy stretch followed as tail flicked back and forth leisurely – no rush or concern burdened her face. The gentle touch upon the dark furred ear only solidified the pleased noise that fell just past her lips, throat vibrating with the intensity of it even as her golden gaze followed along Paris’ buttocks – finding nothing strange about his nudity. Clothes were a human invention, afterall – nature had no use for them, there was no shame in ones’ body, no modesty or embarrassment over such little things as appearances. However, her reverie is broken by another one of Paris’ tedious lessons, and her golden gaze flickers towards Okina, though a hint of irritation lies behind as fanged teeth are shown in an impressive yawn. The rough tongue flicks out over her lips before drawing back into her maw as she resumes appraising the wolven woman before her nose wrinkles as she catches the others’ scent on her divan. “Smells funny.” Helaine rumbles, rolling over to face away so that she might soak up more of the sun. In truth, if one paid attention, they would see the fur of her mane and tail lightly poofed in displeasure as she made a show of curling herself along the divan to rub against it with a soft “mrowwwwl” as she marked it with the scent pouches in her cheeks and along her body. It was a display to ensure Okina knew that this was her spot, and while she would tolerate – and even come to care deeply for the others of Paris’ harem – she was not going to give up the divan, or the garden, or the rich foods that she looked forward to each meal time and even sometimes between. The fact that Paris’ had allowed Okina on the divan was an affront to the feline as well, and a scowl laced her pretty face as she glared at a random spot on the wall – because clearly, it too, was at fault. “Guri not come?” Helaine questions a moment later, her nickname for the little Naiad packed full of affection and something deeper as a leg drapes lazily off the side of the divan, her attention finally, once more turning to Paris.
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