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Zonty

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    zontyyy
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  1. How to make friends? 

     

    a dog sitting on a beach looking out over the ocean

    1. Show previous comments  4 more
    2. marikandaperc

      marikandaperc

      i am not having the best of times right now actually right at this time because i have to wake up in 5 hours but am wide awake. -_-

      r u a tuna btw..? lmk what pronouns u prefer. like tuna/tunaself..? personally u can use any for me i dont care.

    3. Zonty

      Zonty

      Oof lol yeah you should definitely sleep when you gotta sleep... And nah, idrc what pronouns you use either :333

    4. marikandaperc

      marikandaperc

      i managed to wake up in time and not miss my lectures ^_^ cheers tuna

  2. By a mistake of fate, or twisted humour, a man had been unravelled to Mundus in an unbelonging time, an unbelonging place. A soft mind, cradled in composure and affection, by a virulent will of forces beyond control, had been clad in a great mass of muscle, ugly lineaments and shallow brain. An urukim with misplaced soul, and misshaped composition; bereft of shrewdness for which the consciousness yearned. Many a time ago, he’d iron his will time and time again, and he’d strive to battle the cravings with which his body rankled and encumbered him. A painful clash of inner monstrosities. He tried to find solace in spirits; but they bequeathed him naught but torment in enslavement. He sought peace in musics, but the lulling melodies became unbearable. The lilting sounds could not undo his predicament. They failed to soothe the mind that steeped with rage. More than a single year elapsed. Far more. But alas, with every winter passing, his malady grew. Its nexious web sprawled, and it rooted deep; and it festered until it occupied his consciousness entirely. He strayed and wondered, but upon a fateful day discovered a cohort of evil ilk. With them he assailed a city, and it was there that the ever clandestine ire stirred too much; he was consumed, and he fought ravenously, unlike any time before. He fought without thoughts, he fought without reason. Without purpose. A valiant warrior confronted him; and Urukim was undone. His torment ended. A pitiful end, for a pitiful create. A pitiful fate.
  3. Once, the sheer name of Astark summoned a turmoil. Once, it was a sheen of dread. A forlorn helplessness. Once, a twinge of hope. An alluring promise. Once, an acrid spite. A livid thought. A certain creature reminisced on times foregone. But now all of it was gone. In the end, their wishes coincided. Only methods were far apart. In the end, they both fought for a common cause, against a common enemy. Her mind was sodden with sorrow. A sadness of another fallen, condemned to suffering eternal. She mustered nor a boastful toast in her demise, nor a weeping lament. There was only silence.
  4. Amusement frothes from someone's visage; "A battle."
  5. Emoting in present tense is actually so rad 

    1. framalam

      framalam

      i cooka da pizza

  6. Hi lets become bffs pretty please

  7. In a dark cradle of night and soft beams of the moon, she sat atop an escarpment. Afar of busy realms, in the wilderness, she leered down unto a valley. Clad strangely: in unstained tourniquets and a violet cloak that flapped to the whimsical gales, she held one such a missive in her grasp. Her visage was obscured, and yet a shroud of silence was heavy upon her. Morose. "You lost a battle, but not dignity. You met your peril, but not thraldom. Nor servitude. Nor slavery." She lulled her own despondency. "Unclipped. Unchained. Unbridled." Her wrist flicked, and the parchment was loosed to the ire of winds that frivolously borne it away. "Rest. You have earned it.”
  8. Zonty

    Why the goldfish?

    This thought has been itching my brain since just about the time I've learnt about the death-mechanics surrounding players in LOTC. We all know Monks, and I don't want to give any opinion on them. Some people enjoy the randomness of the world and would rather PK on the first death, whilst others might feel the story of their character incomplete and therefore would want to continue it unharmed by a random PvPer that ganked them when they were afking. However, there is another side to the coin of death on our server. There is a myriad of ways to outmatch death itself on LOTC, and become truly immortal in roleplay. This result is often a difficult thing to accomplish, and it might be a yield of a very lengthy rp-scheme. Maybe one that stretched for many months. Even then, this result has its tolls. Primarily, it is an enforced PK-clause that a player needs to accept. Usually it is explained as the player's character has dabbled in forbidden secrets, Monks no longer wish to restore them. But what are the boons? Here is the main point of this entire blob of text. What happens when a player who has acquired IRP immortality perishes in roleplay? Given that nothing prevents them from doing so, they are brought back to life again. But. They don't remember anything. Why?? I do understand the idea when it comes to Monks. Since they are currently more of a non-spoken order, it would be exponentially weird to have a character remember their death and all of the circumstances, given that they have no clue of how they were brought back to life. But for players that have undergone a HUGE quest to acquire their immortality in roleplay this seems like a majorly needless rule. I have many examples I can bring about, and I'll put a couple of them in a spoiler below. But for all those who don't wanna read them for one reason or the other - feel free to just comment on the post. I am genuinely curious to read what people think of the matter, and whether this concept should be altered or not. My current view, if this hasn't become clear yet, is that this ruling is CRINGE and should be altered. :3c Examples:
  9. Hjelgi weaved through the halls built upon the labour of resilient dwarves after the missive had been published. Sorrow lay grimly upon her as she strode along the farthest, scarce crevices of the Undearground Realm. "Yu shoul' haff list'ned..." She lamented aimlessly; into naught. "Yet yu chose ignorance; clingin' t' teh sembalanceh o' powah yu so covet 'n yearn t' nevah lose." Words were soon lost beneath a heavy thought for a while, and many feet , if not leagues, were trodden in the chiseled caverns. " . . . . . . "Shame.."
  10. A crooked figure sat in a dark recess, concealed from everyone's glance, and beyond their grasp. And yet even there, the news were heard; and thus a sigh had fluttered. A broken oath. Unfinished promises. Yet none were forsook. The fulfilment was long due. "In amuck hellfire, we will meet." A voice whispered, and shadows stirred.
  11. [!] Grand and marvelous are the contents of the eldest library, and yet for all the virtue within, insanity looms in great quantities, in a perverted equilibrium. ‘Aheral who had come to Silver City not so long ago, whose mind was far from keenest, and yet whose heart beat strong for both his peers and elders, bore a perseverance great.. His struggle to be of aid to the elven militia was to no avail, and so, despondent, he had delved into the farthest depths of the great pool of knowledge that have accumulated in the Silver State over a millenia. The knowledge was consumed, like a sponge devours water. Word by word, row by row, book by book… Much of lore and history was gorged down by the ravenous mind. And yet there was a line. A limit that he shouldn’t have crossed. By and by, and the privy strings of text and tales of foregone age obtruded him all round. From envy, a scorn was born, and thence hatred and malice. Lunacy encroached. Day by day it waxed, until became unbearable; the endless well of spite had to burst, and so in an attempt to unshackle himself, to rid of those bonds, the ‘aheral ventured to one of the most prominent once-rivals of Haelun’or. Along his route, a peer with an endeavour of similitude was encountered. And together they marched and assailed the city of marble. Celia’nor. The approach was swift. The unexpected ally of camaraderie was of a powerful foe, contrary to the elf. Blinded by his hubris and avarice, strike after strike, move after move, his failure became eminent and inevitable. A shield, where once an insignia of his hometown could be gleaned now lay in debris. His own sword cloven in two pieces. One in dirt on the ground, and the other - the one still attached to the hilt, in his own neck. A puddle of blood cradled his limp body; his cadaver. Madness claimed not only his mind, but both body and soul.
  12. Iron doors are ugly, and the fact that you can get a flavorful build only at the expense of defense seems pretty ludicrous. I'd advocate for all doors being the same. But with redstone doors....... I don't think that they should be removed or mandated to have an obvious entry. There are plenty of people skulking about the map, city or literally any place, and if someone wanted to make the entrance noticeable so that people could easily interact with whatever is contained within, they could. But it doesn't mean they should have no other option. Even when it comes to storing something like a CA phylactery, why should it be easily accessible and interactable? People could have spent maybe months if not longer, step by step striving to the goal of acquiring that CA in character, and it should be possible to strip what the effort provided with just a flick of fingers? Gah. I think that creativity that a person who is building the door exerts should be rewarded with the ability to build more convoluted doors that would require a great grain of wit to open, which is exactly what redstone provides. On the contrary, though, I think that anything involving a specific key (even if just a mundane item) shouldn't exist at all. Whilst the logic behind such a possibility of course exists, there is neither any brain-power required to make it, nor any interesting way to figure out how the door functions. It's just trying every item until you either get lucky or there will be only one feasible option remaining. This is just dumb.
  13. Roused by the news from her dawdle in a spot unmarked by any map, a certain clowness stirred; and she tarried no more, quailing toward the circus' grounds in anticipation of a new adventure.
  14. "I wanna slay some goblins" Decreed a certain warrior, brandishing his brazen shield to the vast span that stretched beneath the spot where he presently stood.
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