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About Tahmas

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    The Passive Aggressive
  • Birthday 04/18/1997

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    United Kingdom
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  1. You guys don't realise but drfate is actually the meme king, he's been rising everyone for years. In all seriousness, while some of this feedback is harsh you must learn to cop it on the chin and keep moving. Take the criticism that you get from these people and learn from it. I've refrained from supporting or dissing people's apps for a long time now, and while I will continue to do so, I hope that you can adapt and take what other people say to some degree of heart. Ignore the people who are hating and giving very immature and unhelpful comments, though take the genuine criticism and do something with it.
  2. Crumena holds a hand up towards his brother as they trek through the forsaken realm. "I sense a disturbance.."
  3. :T
  4. Y'all gotta chill out lmao
  5. Wtf are you on about? Meg is f***ing mental.
  6. I'll be honest here. I just pissed myself laughing. Your ban was an open and shut, easy case.
  7. You're joking, yeah?
  8. Update: Kowaman and I just revisited the discussion, a response will be made regarding an official stance on warclaims by a dev in a lil bit because I'm going to bed.
  9. That may be so, though following recent discussions with the Dev lead we are not all too comfortable that running warclaims at this time is in any shape or form a wise decision. I'm entirely comfortable allowing it to happen if the war team are okay moderating it, and if the Dev team believe that allowing a warclaim to happen will not cause any issues for the server in its current state.
  10. As stated before, Warclaims are on hold until the blacklist is lifted. Should, however, the collective dev and war team agree that a warclaim is wise, it may go through. Until then, none will be accepted.
  11. Amendment - Raid Rules Raid-baiting is not permitted. (This is using a small force to make people chase you into a larger, pre-planned force to kill them in PvP.) New Rule: Any attempt to camp the edge of a territory in order to draw people out, or block people from entry for the sole purpose to kill players for more than one hour a day is against the rules. Camping roads leading from a Fast Travel to a Nation Capital with the sole intent to kill players is allowed for 30 minutes every 6 hours.
  12. "James Montoya is a good man." a passing, blue eyed being would state.
  14. You know what they say about hope? It breeds eternal misery. I read that somewhere, sometime.. It feels like I’ve been here for years, dipping and diving away from the monsters of the night. This Desert has become all I’ve known, even the whitened serration of the mountains before have faded from my mind. It’s… funny, really. I thought a realm of my own control; my own make, would be the dream I’d wish to stay in forever. I’ve never been farther from the truth. The cruel sun beat down, it’s malevolent eye unblinking as the sky muttered not a wisp of a cloud to soften the harsh rays. The odd life which littered my presence surrounded me, taking shelter in the shadows of the rocks. Three days had passed, though my bearing of time had broken into a pattern of disarray. I knew not where I was, knew not of the time which soaked my journey. The Deserts of Axios were much fairer than this, the rolling hills and strands of wind causing nought but the stir of wispy sand against my body. It was merciless. Salty sweat rolled down my nose, stinging against my greyed eyes as my clothing clung to my skin. The wind was my enemy in these lands, the very heat from the glistening sand beneath my feet plagued my form. Coarse, rough, and irritating, the sand was found more or less everywhere within the layers of my clothing, though my persistence continued. Why did I travel this empty road? What was I searching for? There was only one comment I’d held about these lands, these dunes I travelled… By the blessings of whatever god above, when night fell upon me I felt nothing more than the breadth of beauty and the realm around me. Truly, I was without understanding. I must have underestimated the night tonight, for the horror against my flesh was without warning. It’s not like me to miss a detail, you can ask anyone. A keen eye, they’d say, but tonight was not the case. Where was Alviras? It was not like him to fall silent for this long. Regardless of his absence, I pressed on. I marched against the night and, though heat wicked away faster than my form could replace it. Could I turn back? Was that even possible? Am I left screaming beneath the pale moon above? No thanks. It was then that I decided to rest, or at least rest all that I could. Cropping out from a nearby mound of sand appeared to be a large and darkened protrusion of stone, jutting from the ground below. A worthy shelter, or so I thought. It was fortunate I’d found a place to rest my weary head, as what followed was not a welcome sight. Storms brewed on the cold horizon, promising nothing but winds to level even the mightiest of trees to the soil; not like there were any present, though the strength would render even the strongest of men to his knees. The midnight darkness threatened to break me into helplessness beneath whatever pitiful shelter this seemed to be. I cast my eyes upon the charcoal sky, the black and velvet quality of the air above thickened as the sand wisped past along the gale. Without an upwards glance, I decided it was time to settle my body against the ground, using the cloth around my weary form and the steed which had carried me during my weakened days pressed against my chest. It was just me and her, my blessed saviour in an otherwise lonely world. I… Failed. Sleep was not a friend of mine, and the lack thereof haunts my nights; fatigue rules my days. When I need to be lucid and clear, my brain begs for unconsciousness, for sleep at any price. Prior to this prison, I’d always found sleep a fickle thing. Easy, and taken for granted. But come the hours of darkness in the wasteland of sand, my mind lights up with the horrors of my past, and tragedies of my future. I want to let them go, to disregard all I knew and relax, but even the sheep I sought to count are telling me what will go wrong in days to come. Oddly, a strange light caught my eye out in the wastes before me. What was this? Another trap? I’d had my fair share, but their frequency had seemed cruel. Yet.. And my friends would have beaten me for the way I was, but there was no changing it. I was always curious, and in fact such a trait was the cause of misery in the years I’d faced, yet once again it overwhelmed me. Soon enough I was on my feet, the sand beneath my soles with each and every step into the blistering storm before me. Each footprint in the sand was met with the whipping of sand against my cheek, streaming through the locks upon my head. As I neared the gleam from corner of my eye, it soon came to identify as a strange looking cube; well, strange to any other. Yet I knew this cube, I knew the implications this had brought. With one extended digit, the tip of my finger pressed gently against the odd carving upon its centre. “Crumena… It’s Steven.” I couldn’t breathe. Welling inside of me… a lump at the back of my throat. As I retreated to my shelter, the softest of streaks of what I could only tell to be a mixture of my own blood and tears, my position beside the steed I’d come to know was resumed with the cube pressed to my chest. As though blessed from the heavens above, I cradled the box like it was my own child, refusing to allow the item to slip from my fingers. Over and over I pressed the delicately carved central piece, replaying the message until I’d pass from the land of consciousness. With stained cheeks and my form physically shaking from the cold air, the first words in days slipped through my cracked lips, before finally laying to rest. “Please..” Additional reference for the outside I’d been waiting for the storm to pass for what felt like days, so long that I barely believed my eyes when the sharp whipping sand appeared to quell to a dead stillness of night.. I drifted into consciousness, and then back out. The world was blurry, chaotic, and random as images seemed to float aimlessly around in the pool of my mind. As though they were being blown about by a vicious storm, the feeling of the Steeds tongue against my cheek momentarily brought me back to the world I’d known. The world was dark, as I’d always come to know, and what felt like years had passed. After a second, I was lost once more. I could feel something tugging at me, buried deep in the depths of my stomach. I couldn’t help but look down over myself, stunned by innate horror as I noticed the stained red fabric which covered the middle of my clothing. Had I been attacked during my slumber? I surveyed my flesh, though no injury appeared to have been sustained. My eyes could only widen, a sense of dread and uncertainty reverberating through my entire body. “No..” I spoke through bated breaths, though my stance rose to my feet. I couldn’t keep focus as my stance wobbled from left to right, forth to back. The whole world simply felt shifted, distorted and unreal. Confusion blossomed within the depths of what I could only assume to be my heart as I soon came to realise I needed to conquer my challenges and wake up. But for now, the first task was ahead of me. “Crumena… It’s Steven.” I travelled for what felt like years, day in, day out, I pushed forward and delivered swift execution to each and every shadow which passed my way. I didn’t sleep, I didn’t relent. My semblance of hope rested within the careful cube I clutched to my side through each second of each day, replaying the recording time and time again to remind me of my fight. I had a cause, I had a directive and there was nothing that would stop me. While alone, while broken and bruised, there was a reason to fight, a reason to persevere. Perhaps I’d been blind before, perhaps I’d been lost.. I was foolish. No more. It was then that I broke into the field of shadows, breaching the sight before me. While they’d attempted to pick me off in small packs, this was new. As I stood atop the nearest dune, my eyes simply cast against the sea of darkness before me as billows of smoke shot into the sky. I left my horse behind and stepped forward, moving towards the field of battle. As I neared, an odd sound came from behind me. “Crumena!” “Is that you?” I froze. Perhaps it was another trick, perhaps it was just a mirage in this heated sea of sand and rock, though as my gaze veered to survey which laid against my back, I was met with no sight but the sand along the breeze. Just as I stated to feel alone, I’d play the cube back once more. “Crumena… It’s Steven.” To battle I drew, to war I waged. Every mind is as much a battlefield as the sand beneath my feet, though as my blade was drawn and my form propelled into the army before me, little more was to be said. It was a massacre, and soon it was over. Though the ground glistened like rain had fallen, the liquid which shone wasn’t clear, but red. The beasts of darkness who had died were for the most part dead, or were soon to be. The Master of this world, the Master and the Artificer waged a war which slaughtered more than any sane mind would count. How many had fallen? Was I able to remain strong and stand for another fight? Each shadow which had fallen to the edge of my blade was bloodied and bleeding, as though their hearts had beaten just like mine still does. It was quiet now, the clattering of swords had come to silence as the field of bloodied sand ahead was now nought by a graveyard for the unburied. “Crumena… It’s Steven.” I had to reassure myself, to tell myself that what I was doing was not in vain. It wasn’t easy, and neither was what came next. “It’s funny, really.” The voice returned. “You think you do what is right, that you are just in your action and your cause.. But you’re not. You’re no better than the darkness you seek to enlighten.” Even if I could stomach a response, my form was paralysed. Stepping around me to face me directly stood an image of the Horror I’d once called Father. With the cube I sheltered taken from my possession and into his own hands, the eyes he and I shared surveyed the metallic object with an entitled scoff. The button was pressed, though it’s pressure was not akin to it’s previous handler. His movements were rough, rigid, unkind. “Crumena… It’s St--.” The Cube was smashed, and the image of my Father drifted away with the wind. Sometimes.. The world feels like it’s falling down, crushing me under it’s fingers. I felt like the sky was on fire, my fears brought to life. My heartbeat increased, my breathing fast and shallow as my palm pressed to clutch against my chest. It felt as though it would burst with every tremor which climbed up my insides. Thoughts accelerated through my mind as my body dropped to my knees, a free hand sprawled out against the crimson liquid and chunks of shattered metal. Tension grew in my face and my limbs as my finger and thumb clasped around the purple crystal which had supplanted itself inside of the broken node, the metallic scrapes against the sand having scratched skin from muscle along my arm. It felt as though a hand was clasped over my mouth; an equally hypodermic adrenaline pierced my hearts and my lungs, unloading like a harpoon. My head was a carousel, spinning wildly out of control as the crystal in my grasp was pressed against my forehead over and over again, muddled whispers breaking from my blood stained face as tears began to swell against my closed eyes. My one true last of salvation, my redemption and compassion in an otherwise bleak and unending world. It was all I had, more than I could ever have asked for… and yet it was ripped from me. Torn from my being by the one character I had come to despise like no other. It was.. Funny, in a way. My creator had become my undoer. My pupils dilated as the reddened nature was released to the world, eyes bearing wild as my body began to shake vehemently. You can feel it, building like an unstoppable sphere of fire inside of your stomach. I couldn’t concentrate on anything, nothing at all.. Not except him. As the being I’d forgotten as Father reformed before me, my cries pitched against the night sky as my heart beat faster, harder until my fists curled into tight balls. The crystal against my palm dug deep into my flesh, a crimson liquid beginning to carefully line down the cracks of my skin to pool against my wrist, soon dropping to the sand below. I stood to my feet and began to pace irrationally, white knuckles from my clenched fists accompanied the gritting of my teeth. I struggled to remain silent as tears fell down my cheeks. Burning rage hissed through my body like a deathly poison, screaming and demanding sweet release in the form of unadulterated violence. Akin to a volcano erupting; fury swept off me like ferocious waves, wrath consuming and engulfing my moralities and destroying boundaries of loyalty I had developed over the years. I’d never shown or felt this much rage before, though my passivity was pushed aside against my will. That’s what you can expect from your own mind, though, you’ll find. Show your anger and it’ll force you into compliance, though that was the only emotion I seemed to bring. I did everything right - everything- and still I torture my mind, broken in this mess of a realm I’d constructed. I took no pleasure in taking him down. None. It was just a necessity. He loved to hurt me, and I couldn’t bear to hold it no longer. Mercy was the trait I governed above all others, though that is only good until it is proven to hurt the innocent. I hadn’t even swung a punch, and yet he quivered. How weak he was. I don’t recall who threw the first punch, but suddenly my first was slamming into his face while he sunk into my stomach. Blood pooled in his mouth as I gagged back. We stumbled apart for a brief second to gauge the damage caused, though my relent, my compassion and my mercy had all but undone. I narrowed my force in determination as I dodged his fist which came against my neck; for a brief instant, his eyes widened before my head was driven straight into his own. Stars burst into my vision, but I shook it off, blindly driving in for another assault. He threw his weight behind the first that edged into my jaw, the pooled blood within my mouth spewing against the air. Pain erupted from the point of impact, though my two hands grasped his head in my hands as I brought my kneecap up to his nose. There was a crack, and I released the being in my hands. A dark, deepend crimson leaked from the pair of his nostrils as he lazily attempted to collect himself. Soon enough he drove forward, ploughing his first into my stomach. My gut smashed in on itself, blood vessels bursting, though I repaid his assault by colliding the split knuckles lining my right fist into his bloodied jaw. There was blood lining my hands and a bruise above my eye, though victory was mine. “Fear itself is a pair of shackles, a knife in the gut which slowly twists and slams against your head. Yet it evaporates like water under an early sun when confidence is driven through it.” I started to speak as I towered over the fallen enemy, the crystal protruding from my palm as my gaze began to avert. “Fear is an illusion, a ghost inside of a child’s nightmares. It’s part of being who you are, the precursor to bravery.” They say there is nothing to fear but fear itself, yet in this world that isn’t exactly true. I pressed on into an ancient ruin behind the tattered and broken form of what was once the Father I’d known for so long, breaching the cavern entrance. I was alone once more, my drive and cause had been smashed before my very eyes and yet.. My steps continued. My body propelled me forward with each and every footprint against the sand beneath my feet despite my mind having all hope lost. It was then that I came into the large room, adorned with various dials and levers lining the walls. It seemed rather well kept, really, with bookshelves stacked against the walls and a large hourglass in the centre of the room. “Crumena?” A voice called from behind. Unlike every other voice, however, this hit too close to home. Of all the people they had to trick and torture me with, did they have to choose him? My brother? The one who had been with me from the day I’d breached the circle I’d come to know? “Odd looking room, huh?” With that I turned, eyes bitter and cold as I cast my sights upon him. “This another trick?” I asked carefully “Trick?” He seemed to question. “This isn’t fair. Not you, that’s too far. I can’t do this.” And so, I sat. The wave of acceptance had washed over me as the first light of dawn cropped the ruins in the distance, cast through the large oaken door to the open cavern outside. As the sun rose to the morning sky, I couldn't feel an overwhelming sense of minute consciousness. Today would continue, time would tick forward as usual and the people would scurry around in their day to day routine as they always had. The world would not stand still, the birds would not cease their never ending song. Everything would continue as it always had, but today would be a day without me. Today would be the day that I was taken from this world, though not a dimming of light or quelling of voices would succumb to my weary form. It was now, now of all times that I realised that the burden of life was not to drive for an ending which would never come, but instead of be a breathless whisper upon the wind. My footprints within the sand would fade, my words against the sky would silence the next second that passed, and my body would soon crumble and spread upon the world just as it had been made. This was the course of time, and no one individual would ever truly be remembered, or perhaps never forgotten. While our marks on the world are few and removed, an instance of time captured the breadth of ours lives in a single moment. And so my eyes closed, the sounds of whipping winds stripping past my ears and the chilling sensation of subjective end began to course through me. The lives of many and the tales of time would continue now, but into nothingness I shall fade. We are many people throughout our lives, each with their own memories, personalities and thoughts, though bound by the same instant. A second past in this eternal wasteland, though connected through the memory of each moment we lived. I will not forget one second of this, not one minute of when I was me. Surprisingly, I was joined upon the floor by the entity guised as my kin. “Listen uh. I’m not leaving. Not out there, it’s too.. The screaming is too much. Not in here, though.” I suspended disbelief for a few moments, “How did you get here?” “Eldrad brought us to the Core.” “And so you wish to stay?” “I can’t let you do the rest of this alone.” I couldn’t respond, I daren’t even try. I’d been broken and betrayed so many times, inside and out of this realm of consciousness, though something about him felt different. “Dirk..” “It’s beautiful in a way, the sun in the sky.” “Reminds me of home.” “And home is where we’ll end up.” “Thank you.” The sand within the hourglass continued to funnel through, soon reaching the base as it’s time had ran out. With blood trailing behind me, staining my clothing and the ground beneath our feet, my Brother and I walked through the glimmering sphere which had presented itself once time had reached it’s still. And so completed was the third trial. ((Apologies for any spelling/grammar mistakes, I am very tired right now))