Viravain, Lady of the Thorns shouts, "And You would seize Me? Fool! I am the Glomdoring! I am the Wyrd, and beneath the cloak of Night, the shadows of the Silent stir!"
Oh man. So much Milo for making a necklace after that fun interaction!
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns shouts, "And You would seize Me? Fool! I am the Glomdoring! I am the Wyrd, and beneath the cloak of Night, the shadows of the Silent stir!"
He is a feathered trill and hides his eyes behind a pair of onyx sunglasses, the frames made of thin pieces of ivory. A completely shaven cranium presents a face clear of any sort of hair, the nose plucked clean. There is a slight shine to it as if polished. Strong fingers move up into muscular arms and torso, the pectorals appearing hard and firm. Holding himself up straight, Haezon is 6 feet 3 inches tall with a body width to match, appearing solid, strong and lithe. Scars crisscross rough hands with wrinkled skin from hours of manual labour. His skin coloured a deep ebony that seems to suck in the light which touches, making his outline hard to gauge. From his wings, chalk dust flakes down like snow, disappearing before they touch the ground in an ever falling motion.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns shouts, "And You would seize Me? Fool! I am the Glomdoring! I am the Wyrd, and beneath the cloak of Night, the shadows of the Silent stir!"
IMPORTANT: The main noun MUST use one of these: BRACELET, BRACELETS
Appearance:
a perfectly preserved spider bracelet
Dropped:
Eight glassy eyes glare from a spider bracelet that lies forgotten, looking too alive to be dead.
Examined:
Crafted from a dead spider, this bracelet is a trophy as much as it is a
piece of jewellery. The spider itself has been preserved in a round
shape and fashioned so the underside is flat, perched upon a lustrous
gold base. Eight leering eyes gaze outward into different directions,
indifferent to the arachnid's repose. Attention to detail is evident in
this jewelry's inception as its scythe-like chelicerae, multitudinous
setae, glossy exoskeleton, and distended abdomen alike betray no hint of
its unlife. Despite being preserved, its segmented legs are quite
limber, fitting perfectly around and against the wrist, no matter the
girth.
Comments:
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns shouts, "And You would seize Me? Fool! I am the Glomdoring! I am the Wyrd, and beneath the cloak of Night, the shadows of the Silent stir!"
He is a radiant immortal and is surrounded by a cloud of ethereal stars, each seemingly set in an orbit about Him. Drawn back into a shoulder-length ponytail from its widow's peak source, silky hair as dark as ebony offsets slightly the tanned, worn complexion of His face. With only the faintest hint of cragginess, His otherwise handsome face is somewhat marred by the jagged, white scar running across His right eye, starting from the temple and working its way to the base of His nose. Immediately surrounding the searing scar, grey flesh creeps around both the scar and the unseeing eye, creating a ghastly effect. While lithe and slender, toned muscles also grace His frame, seemingly dancing beneath His swarthy skin with each movement made. He is wearing a pair of nearly knee-high, faded leather boots, a pair of cuffed breeches and a tattered coat of Half-Formed leather.
It's like... there's all this racial diversity in Lusternia, and humans are even supposed to be aliens brought by Estarra... but all the gods just look like humans. :-/
She is a nimble faeling and stands with her gossamer wings fluttering erratically behind her, each one ornamented by three dark, ominous eyespots. Her dusky, nutmeg complexion blends perfectly with the soil covering much of her hands and forearms, and her heart-shaped face is crowned by a pixie cut of loose black curls that cling to her ears and dangle in front of her unnervingly innocent, amber eyes. Beneath her blood red lips is an indigo stain that reaches down to the point of her chin. Inset within the centre of her forehead is a small, misshapen peridot.
Can I also just say that I have had a blast so far? Everyone is ridiculously helpful. Thanks so much. Sucks that I'll be gone for much of the next week - but I will come back,I will!
She is a nimble faeling and stands with her gossamer wings fluttering erratically behind her, each one ornamented by three dark, ominous eyespots. Her dusky, nutmeg complexion blends perfectly with the soil covering much of her hands and forearms, and her heart-shaped face is crowned by a pixie cut of loose black curls that cling to her ears and dangle in front of her unnervingly innocent, amber eyes. Beneath her blood red lips is an indigo stain that reaches down to the point of her chin. Inset within the centre of her forehead is a small, misshapen peridot.
Can I also just say that I have had a blast so far? Everyone is ridiculously helpful. Thanks so much. Sucks that I'll be gone for much of the next week - but I will come back,I will!
Pixie cuts need a new name when you are a faeling, but I can't find one It will be fun seeing the confusion it causes.
Shoulder-length black hair hangs in lank, clumped strands. Each hank of hair has an oily, greasy sheen, giving the style a matted, unwholesome appearance. The ends curl upward slightly, several strands sticking rebelliously out of place on their own accord.
--------
"hair215672" short brown hair
Brown hair has been cut short and is parted on the side. The back is a light stubble and the sides taper tightly around the ears.
--------
"hair103514" short, powder-blue pigtails
Light, powder-blue hair has been twisted into two thick braids that stick outward on either side of the head. Dark blue ribbon ties each braid near the end, allowing the hair ends to poof out in a whimsical, defiant interpretation of the traditional pigtail.
--------
"hair86964" austerely short black hair
Jet-black hair has been cut short in a nearly militaristic style, pomaded to a glossy sheen. The forelocks are ever so slightly longer, styled to lift upward in a wavy fringe above the brow.
--------
"hair212674" rough-shorn crimson hair
Moderately short hair is a deep, fiery crimson in colour, shaved down to nearly nothing around the back and ears. At the top, the hair spikes outward in errant locks, each a different length from its neighbor as though cut in haste or without particular care.
--------
"hair202508" spiky black hair
The hair is almost the colour of black pitch, cut relatively short but styled into spikes that rise up on the top of the head like sharp mountain peaks. The sides and back are tightly trimmed.
--------
"hair218632" slender azure fins decorated with shells
Three slender fins crown the head, the centre fin rising slightly higher than its neighbors. Faintly azure in hue, the colour deepens as the fins extend outward into a darker, royal colouration. Tiny shells adorn the fins, nacreous and shimmering in the light.
--------
"hair119102" long, silky sable hair
Sheer, sable hair is smooth and glossy, with long, even bangs. The hair falls downward in a silky curtain, perfectly straight and even.
--------
"hair218790" cascading, fiery red curls
A fiery mane of vibrantly red hair cascades about the head and down the back, artfully curled and immaculately well-kept. The multihued appearance of the hair - from dark red to auburn and even a faint strawberry blonde - grants it the appearance of licking whorls of flame.
LOOK AT CHALICE ON DROCILLA The size of a large wine goblet, this elegant chalice is suffused with tainted hues, the silver of its smoothly carved surface both tarnished and worn. Starting as a circular mass of defiled roots at the chalice base, a tangle of rotting vines spiral up the narrow stem and wreath around the worn cup, decking it with rings of fouled emerald and ichor black. Around the rim of the cup are empty ovals where gems once must have been embedded, their darkly gleaming sockets devoid of beauty as further mockery to the craftsmanship and symbolism so utterly soiled. Silvery fluid glows dimly within the chalice, the swirling lap of divine essence clinging to the rim as if to escape its plight.
Comments
a gruesome necklace of shrunken heads
The divine voice of Avechna, the Avenger reverberates powerfully, "Congratulations, Morkarion, you are the Bringer of Death indeed."
You see Estarra the Eternal shout, "Morkarion is no more! Mourn the mortal! But welcome True Ascendant Karlach, of the Realm of Death!
NARF!
Estarra the Eternal says, "Give Shevat the floor please."
Estarra the Eternal says, "Give Shevat the floor please."
NARF!
Estarra the Eternal says, "Give Shevat the floor please."
an oily, greasy sheen, giving the style a matted, unwholesome appearance. The
ends curl upward slightly, several strands sticking rebelliously out of place on
their own accord.
stubble and the sides taper tightly around the ears.
outward on either side of the head. Dark blue ribbon ties each braid near the
end, allowing the hair ends to poof out in a whimsical, defiant interpretation
of the traditional pigtail.
glossy sheen. The forelocks are ever so slightly longer, styled to lift upward
in a wavy fringe above the brow.
nothing around the back and ears. At the top, the hair spikes outward in errant
locks, each a different length from its neighbor as though cut in haste or
without particular care.
into spikes that rise up on the top of the head like sharp mountain peaks. The
sides and back are tightly trimmed.
its neighbors. Faintly azure in hue, the colour deepens as the fins extend
outward into a darker, royal colouration. Tiny shells adorn the fins, nacreous
and shimmering in the light.
downward in a silky curtain, perfectly straight and even.
artfully curled and immaculately well-kept. The multihued appearance of the hair
- from dark red to auburn and even a faint strawberry blonde - grants it the
appearance of licking whorls of flame.
I hear there's brains out there:
I'm a consent-based roleplayer! Kindly ask first, and I will return the favour. Open to developing tinyplots.
Atlantis is my client of choice! (Guide)