Sevastiel

A young boy reads the notice, gripping it in his little hands. His lips tighten, cheeks puffing up. Someday... maybe... He would be able to help.

Somewhere beyond, a silver spirit hums a gentle lullaby. It could not remember where it came from, nor why it mattered so much, faces, drifting just out of reach, names, mocking it from the tip of its tongue. But it could not forget that once it had loved, and loved dearly. 

A doctor wonders what time has come to, that men and women are selling themselves off again for such high prices

Kiriha sighs quietly, thin fingers coming through his hair before propping up his chin. Expression inscrutable save for the tiniest quirk to his lips, he nods once, and crumples up the page. 

“One less theeng to worry about, I suppose. Never have been fond of that fameelee, bat one mast be grateful for what they have done… when et helped.” 
 

With that he turns and gathers his notes. There was snooping to be done. 

why the fetch did you come back, run while you can!

On 6/5/2021 at 3:18 AM, Moo_bot said:

CURRENT STAFF

 

Tianrui Ren (GMT)

Tianrui Ryu (GMT-1)

Tianrui Paraskevi (GMT)
Tianrui Carla (EST)

Tianrui Meixing (CST)

Atsuki Waythe (GMT+9)

Kiriha (EST)

Im MST! but my schedule is all over the place so EST works for me too

Kiriha grins widely at the notice. Well, this would be fun, he had always been a little fluid and never had quite been as opposed to wearing dresses as he really ought to be. Cracking his knuckles, the tall elf begins to dig through the clothes he had saved. The blasted thing had to be here somewhere...

A pale elf’s head tilts, one brow lifting just so as they read the notice.

“All things end, and the reign of petty tyrants never does last long.”

A old warrior, clad in white, tilts his head as he reads it. Ornaments, adorning the antlers upon his helm, tinkle with the movement. "Far better than dyin' in some Allfather-forsaken fight over nothing at all." he chuckles, and shrugs, going to pass the note on to Grejon.

A certain elf's ears twitch with annoyance at the sound, echoing through the slums. Blast it all, he just wanted to do some coronary work, and here was this child insulting his lover. Well. Perhaps another body could be made eventually.

“Sometems I wonder ef Norland es even ve same style of descendant as ve rest of us,” Kiriha muses, rubbing his forehead as he witnesses an old man leap with the agility of a deer across tables, for no less than twenty minutes. Befuddled thoroughly, the surgeon decides to document this behavior as best as he can. Without partaking. 

I have personally always tried to adhere to the “this bird gets sent to a general location and if the player is not there, message does not send” sort of beat. Ive really enjoyed getting to roleplay bits of bird things, including personalities and stories for said birds, and finding a proper bird through rp is something that I highly enjoy doing. 

Now, despite my personal enjoyment of the feature, I can understand the issue of metagaming when it comes to combat and whatnot, but as far as general rp goes, I dont see much of a problem. In experience, the real issue comes when the rules arent adhered to, such as not doing the three emotes, etc, or “following a bird to its owner,” or birds being used to, yes, rally. As far as being given villain rp goes, or combat, or incarceration, I think, and agree, with a few comments above saying that you cannot send birds in certain situations. However, as far as general things go, 

1- Not everyone is a part of a nation, I enjoy wandering around from place to place, and as such a designated city from which to receive mail wouldnt make sense for everyone. 
 

2- The map is friggin ginormous Id like to know where my friends are when they ask for rp right away through a letter, instead of finding some mail box somewhere and then realizing that I have 17 unopened messages because I know Im finna forget. 

3- Birds often do make fun rp, especially when they get *cough* eaten as I have been unfortunate enough to witness. Or, like when you get smacked in the face by a more aggressive bird, or being able to feed them seeds. Its also lovely to see passive bird rp, where players are simply tending to them. Someone mentioned an aviary. Id love an aviary, so long as I can take my bird with me when I wander.

Counterpoint to all of this, courier rp is absolutely lit and I love it. 
 

Id love to hear thoughts on my own! 

From the beyond, a man chuckles with mirth, and wishes he could join this little band. 

A white haired warrior chuckles to himself as he rips the missive down from a posting, head tilting just enough to send the ornaments adorning the deer like horns on his helm a-tinkling. 

“They who dress for battle, they who wear their swords at their belts, they who carry the enemies of their ‘friends’ on their backs, these are not peaceful folk. An odd stratagem, to be sure.” 

The man rolls his shoulders, muscles shifting under the pelt about them, and idly discards the note as he strides off without a care. 

Beyond, where all things are made grey, a scarred, worn man wraps her in his arms when he finds her.

“You were always good enough, rest now.”

A silver haired warrior exhales softly, watching his breath mist from under his helm, an ornament of bone clicking against the elk-horns so carefully carved and set onto the metal helm, staring after the young messenger as the lad disappears beyond the twisted gates of that twisted city, carrying a fools tune. 
 

Disappointment. That was what he had been feeling, what he did feel, as he had heard the words spread among his people. A head on battle against the cowards in their castles, holding better armor and weapons, many of which he had never seen before their unfortunate encounters with these… perhaps worms was an off word, but it’d do. Too much was at stake, too many lives could be lost, their culture shattered, their tribes gone. It was foolish, hunting prey they had never before truly chased. No, more than that, it was treating the winter winds lightly, it was dancing with hungry bears, carrying fish, it was suicide. 
 

Snow crunches beneath his heavy boots as he turns, the pelt across his shoulders rippling in the frigid wind, pulling at his clothes, his braided hair, its fingers pushing against anything it could touch, his body and shield, his weapons strapped on so safely were not spared as the gusts did all they could to push him over, to drive him into the snow as these monsters had done. A raven caws at him from a tree, sheltering there for the moment before the winds would sink enough for flight. She was a wise thing, wiser than a man like him deserved. 

It was time to return, the lad would die, or he would not, as the Allfather would decide, but he could not stay. He would not stand by and wait this time, not any more. Too much was at stake for him to watch from the sidelines. 

Perhaps even with all his bravado and purpose, Grejon would listen to a touch of reason, unlike their last mistake of a leader. This would not work without care. Armor, weapons, numbers, none of it would mean anything in the face of their prey without a plan.

And planning, well. That was what Folke did best. 

Yes please, it’d be very nice to see more small rp based magics. +1

3 hours ago, Nectorist said:

“Yeah, he’s been like that for a few months… laughing, talking to himself, going off on these strange rants. I fear they’ve only worsened,” says the morbidly obese Jared Dune, a frequent visitor of the north, to several international humanitarian aid workers as they walk around Norland.

A pure white elf would feel a tad bit of concern, seeing this very, very large man, and would wonder where he came from. Those workers, too, when had they all got here? Why were they here, again? How did the big one get here? The walk was much too long, did they have to carry him? Was he part olog, to have gotten to such a size and speak in such a manner? He leans in a bit, “Im sorry, ser, bat I have not even ve slightest of edeas of what you mean.”

Later, the same elf would read the missive and nod in approval, pleased that Orenians were, thankfully, capable of seeing their own systems faults and working through them. Some of them, anyway. Perhaps there was something worth salvaging. 

“Why,” an elf mutter softly to himself, thin fingers stroking his chin, “am I not surprised to see three paragraphs praeseeng ve state of Oren, and Norland stated as ve beegest loser of ve decade? Ah, cant be helped. Ve rest of eet seems to be decent, though.” Straightening out the paper again he views it idly with his golden eyes, blinking behind his glasses. “Though Oren really ought to pay more thought eento Yong Peng than sach a short paragraph. Eets groweeng at sach a lovely rate, one makes an obserd amount jast workeeng een ve teashop!”
 

No ghosts :*(

A silvery spirit is getting a hefty amount of deja vu

An elf, tall, pale, perhaps a little too pale, reads the missive with a singular raised brow. 

“Enteresteeng. Ve story unfolds, and the moons light brings jast a touch more knowledge. Tem to go hunteeng agaen, man and beast awaet.”

Thin lips pursed, Kiriha absentmindedly taps his chin as he gazes up at the swinging head. 

“Ih honestleh don't understand how Oren theenks eetself a better... aneetheeng than Norland, as far as caring for Eleeseeum goes. Better that they let the silver deer run free than they run themselves to the ground chaseeng eet.”

Aaaand reserved 💅

A quiet elf, listening in below, adjusts his glasses. He wonders to himself what those... monks were doing with all that mina. Truly, they must have a stockpiled hoard greater than any dragons, with the amount they took from every nation. 
 

He ponders in his crowded mind, a tongue slipping habitually along sharpened, sensitive canines, why did all the nations bow so easily? Why didn’t they take back what they had worked so hard to gain? After all, they were just a bunch of monks.