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SophiaTsu

New Member
  • Content Count

    7
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About SophiaTsu

  • Rank
    Newly Spawned
  • Birthday December 10

Contact Methods

  • Discord
    SophiaTsu#3332
  • Minecraft Username
    sophia_may_sing

Profile Information

  • Location
    Deep in your girl's dms
  • Interests
    Doja Cat

Character Profile

  • Character Name
    Amadeo Clay
  • Character Race
    FarFolk (Qalasheen)

Recent Profile Visitors

113 profile views
  1. SophiaTsu

    What am I?

    Amadeo would carefully observe the handwriting, and then pocket it. “This’ll make a good gift.”
  2. Elijah and His Hole Elijah was never one for war. In fact, he had a strong distaste for it. Swords and bows and battleaxes and whatnot would send him straight to the nearest compost bin. So, when he heard that there was to be a draft to fight against the enemies drawing nearer and nearer to his humble town, Elijah picked up all his belongings he could fit into a small cloth bag and marched out the door. Elijah was also not a man of directions, nor schedules and plans. For days, he wandered aimlessly, stopping occasionally to sit and eat whilst glaring at a squirrel, as if challenging it to make a slight towards him and his meal. It was when Elijah made it to a clearing that he realized he had found a new place to stay. Quiet. Empty. Peaceful from the edges of the forest to the calming riverbank. And, lucky enough for Elijah, the ground was soft enough to begin digging. So, he started. Minutes upon hours upon days, Elijah ceaselessly dug away at the ground. He had to stop often to get the sweat out of his eyes, but would then continue as if he had never taken a pause. He dug. And he dug. And he dug. On the fourth day of digging, Elijah collapsed. His fingernails were packed with mud. His clothes were completely stained beyond repair. But Elijah just laughed to himself under the stars, the low chirps and murmurs from inside the forest seemingly celebrated with him. Elijah had escaped war. And he had dug himself a new hole to call home. The end.
  3. It was late at night. Amadeo Clay was lurking around Ruswick as she normally did, tending to the plants and turtles and whatnot. She peeked inside the empty casino, looked around the quiet markets, and realized happily that one place she could always expect company would be the home of her lover. Swifty Sam. She made her way up the stairs, almost skipping. She couldn’t wait to open the door, to see his face- “Ave Lauriel.” It was written sloppily in blood by the door, which was left ajar. Her hand flew to her mouth as a gasp escaped. The bones in her body shook, the bread that she was carrying in her basket to share with her loved one had been dropped onto the dirty ground. “Maellius!” She screamed from Cliffview 3, trembling. Maellius Aldearch dashed over, cutting short his conversation with one of their neighbors, to find Amadeo on her knees, back slouched, defeated, as she stared at the blood. Maellius helped up his long-time friend and assisted her inside the violated home. Amadeo refused to raise her eyes from the floor, dry sobbing heavily as she was dragged through the living area. That was, until she heard Maellius suck in air and on instinct looked up. There was blood. Everywhere. All over the sheets, all over the bed itself. Amadeo couldn’t help but collapse next to the frame, the tears finally escaping her eyes. “HE’S DEAD!” She screamed as Maellius followed her to the ground and hugged her from behind. “HE’S DEAD!” Maellius patted her back gently, trying to comfort her but her mind was far from that room. She grabbed hold of the corner of the bed-sheet, holding on for dear life. Maellius whispered, “Amadeo, I am so sorry...” And pulled her into a tighter grasp. It was only a few somber moments after that, that, out of sheer stubbornness, her eyes dried. Though still pink and puffy in the face, Amadeo raised herself up by the support of the wall and glared at the bloodied sheet still in her hand. “They killed him. Now they’ll kill me. I hafta leave.”
  4. Amadeo Clay’s jaw almost hit the floor when she received the news. Her hands shook, her eyes watered, her vision blurred. Her nearby mates asked her to have a seat as she quivered quietly. “They...they took his head.” She relayed to them. Something had managed to wrap their hands around her throat and refuse to allow any air. Her first thought was where she would hold the funeral, but then realized fairly quickly that there would be no funeral. There would be no proper burial. Swifty was dead, dead in a place that she used to call home. Killed by the men she used to call her brothers. Her next thought was one of revenge.
  5. Upon reading the note, Amadeo folds his arms and shakes his head. ”Damn shame. Dirtees de brudderhood name.”
  6. Welcome to the ~~~FUNKY~~~ lil skin shop Costs: A head skin is 300 minas An overlay is 100 minas A body is 700 minas A full body (including overlay) is 1000 minas If you are applying for a skin, please fill out the below: Username: Discord: Skin Type (Head/Body/Full Body): Steve or Alex Model: Gender and Race: Image(s) for reference: How is your character quirky?: Type of Payment: Proof of Payment: (You can either reach out to me below or on my discord) Past work:
  7. SophiaTsu

    sara_may_sing

    Amadeo Clay. Born screaming and beet red, throwing his little clamped fists at everyone. His parents looked to one another, stars in their eyes, and smiled. This was their first baby boy. After him would be sister after sister. Four, to be exact. Amadeo grew up in the sand with the rest of his community. They were quiet but hardworking people. Strong. Determined. But mostly tired from the constant beating from the sun. Amadeo would run through into their shops every few minutes or so, asking the nice fruit selling lady or perhaps even the butcher if they could give him a cup of water. But other than sunburns, Amadeo had a fairly normal childhood, full of long days and bickering with his female siblings. School for Amadeo was at home with his father, who would squint at the page as his sight started to fail him, reading the word of the Creator. Amadeo fidgeted where he was sitting on the floor, daydreaming about being outside playing in the sand. For this, Amadeo would often be berated by his mother and father, who were very religious, and glared at by his sisters who were following in their parents’ footsteps. “One day, Imma leave,” a ten-year-old Amadeo declared one day to his sister, Clara, who was only one year younger than him and had quickly become his closest friend. “Yar leavin? Ma and Pa would be crushed,” said Clara, digging the little pebbles out from underneath her toenails. They were sitting on the beach, only a mile away from where they lived. “But I wanna adventure! I wanna see the world!” Clara raised an eyebrow at him doubtingly. “Ya know ya could be a trader. Then ya can come home when yar done.” But Amadeo shook his head, “I wanna leave, Clara. I don’t belong here.” So as Amadeo grew up, rapidly approaching adolescence, he asked himself where he did belong, if not at home with his family. If not in the desert where the Creator intended him to be. It was early in the morning of his sixteenth birthday when Amadeo packed his belongings and said goodbye to his family. His mother tearfully said a prayer for him. His father sternly wagged his finger at him, reminding him to follow the word of the Creator even when away from home and handed him a scarf, what had become a sort of heirloom in his family. Sown by his great-grandfather and passed down through the generations, the scarf had kept the sweat out of the eyes of many of Amadeo’s ancestors. And here was his family, gifting it to him. Amadeo accepted, a rock forming in his throat -which surprised him because this was the moment he had been waiting for. He was about to be free. Clara ran and gave him a hug. Following her were the other three sisters, all visibly and loudly sobbing. Amadeo couldn’t help but cry with them. And then, he was off. He was a small teenager with big hopes and dreams. He stopped alongside Druidic communities, looking on in awe, and spotted a few Orcs along his way, too. However, it was when Amadeo reached Helena that his jaw dropped and the dreams he once had seemed comparatively small and closed-minded to the opportunities that the Holy Orenian Empire offered. The following years were not so kind to Amadeo. It seemed to him that the Creator had turned Their back on him. Amadeo, who was lost in a foreign and busy world, had to turn to small crime, like pick-locking. He found himself at the pubs, drinking deeply to rid his sorrows and homesickness because he was so far from his family. However, even though Amadeo has had much struggle in his young adult life, he has not given up on making lasting friendships and finds himself falling into them easily. He is dead-set on building connections and making a humble name for himself in this big, big world.
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