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Old Hat
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About DrinkPesticide

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    Tree Puncher

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  1. Nerrin Delevoye let out a snort from where he slumped, a seat opposite the barkeep of the Leyu'celia tavern, he'd grumble a couple misgivings to himself, before mumbling more openly to the people around him; "Personal aggravations aside, he's done a marvelous for us. If the Ker'nor, Onyx, ebon-whatever can see a speck of sense, its people might share the same benefits Erolas has brought us."
  2. Ri'"Let's get this over with"Zinawr would grumble and groan at his 'poor' treatment throughout the days that followed.
  3. Edit, full skin or head? - Full skin, (if possible) Race - Dark elf Age - 37 Gender - Male Hair style - A short fringe, medium hair round the sides. Shaggy overall Hair, eye and skin colour - Matte black, deep sea blue, and ash grey. Outfit description - A dim, open, blue trench coat reaches down to barely below the knees, long sleeves with a small cuffs reach down to the ker's wrists. A simple white undershirt is shown, untucked over the waist, hiding any belt or other such waist decor. Upon the lower half is a pair of black trousers (go wild), and pair of boggy, brown boots. Other details you want me to add - N/A :) Steve or Alex skin base? - Alex.
  4. RP Name: Nerrin Delevoye MC Name: CelluLoser Known Arcane Arts: None Position Desired: Student When is the best time to contact you for an interview: Any times'll do
  5. The server could always use a competent GM. +1 (Plus cat dad told me to)
  6. The 9th of the Snow's Maiden 1617 would be a bitter, ***-freezing day for the rest of Axios, though upon the small island of Khatua, the Kha' present still felt 'Absyyl's' diminished, however still warming daylight radiance. Atop the temple of Metztli, a proud, fortified structure of stone, rising tall above all other structures upon the island, there would stand three figures. Atahuti, the soon-to-be Tlatlanni, wise, well beyond his years, a clean iron dagger grasped with in the white-furred pantera's mitt, the blade of the solar plexus would be buried into the solar-plexus of a tied and gagged farfolk, the tanned skin-victim breathing heavily as he averted his eyes from his stomach. To the right of his gaze would stand Dra'Naima, a Khopesh blade held out in front of her, dwelling in stoic apprehension. The final kharajyr, Ja'Zinawr knelt down, perched over the center of the whole gather, his features tensed, fixated upon the bound figure, laid beneath the counter-top of the altar, sat in the pantera's shadowy grasp would be a mortar of thick aqueous blue paste, Zinawr's dark claws sweeping the surface of it occasionally, globs latching onto the prongs upon his digits, being immediately scraped upon the tied man's throat, clearly lacking intent to harm him. After a long-while, the priest would raise up from the doomed male, as Atahuti then glances up to Zinawr, his orbs scanning the old Kha' for confirmation in what was about to do, the digits round the hilt of his dagger shifting, and twitching in excitement. With a silent bob of the head, Zinawr offers the final motion the man would ever comprehend, drawing in a sharp breath the Kha' began to chant, the small crowd of Kha' in attendance muttering after him, some simply repeating, others fully comprehending the tongue, "Vunkeja Atahuti uv rec cehc, cu ra syo palusa dra jaccam uv ouin femm uh Axios." or "Forgive Atahuti of his sins, so he may become the vessel of your will on Axios." With that, the now Tla' would tear the blade from the victim, his prey falling back limp upon the base of the platform, in a swift, fantasized motion, the man would plunge an armory of unfurled claws into the gaping wound, those present dragging in quiet exhales as the Tla' rooted round the now soup-like organs within the man. The lifeless body would give a final stir upon the Tla' reclaiming his hand from him, pushing up the heart into wide-view, his digits clenching round it as blood anointed the Tla' as a Metztli devotee. Moments later, a simple roar would echo the ceremony. "Long live the Tlatlanni!"
  7. As long as you go awol. +1
  8. Nerrin himself would slip the letter mailed to him from the Delevoye letter box shortly after his ex-maliyu had padded off to do the deed, moving to shift inside to plop himself down at the desk with a quiet grunt. The lad fumbled at the seal of the letter, his brow furrowing further and further as he dragged his gaze down the letter, his lower lip shuddering as he finally finished his little read, slumping back his chair, a lazy grip upon the note. "I..." He began, letting the final piece of writing he'd ever receive from Enara slip from his grasp. His gaze simply fell to the floor, a hand moving to blindfold himself, remaining silent for the next few hours.
  9. MC Name: MrMidiene. Character's Name: Nerrin Delevoye. Character's Age: 34. Character's Race: Dark elf. What magic(s) will you be learning?: Sensory illusion. Teacher's MC Name: Trenchist. Teacher's RP Name: Liandir. Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it: Nada. Do you agree to keep the MT updated on the status of your magic app by using the Magic List Errors topic?: Yeee. Have you applied for this magic on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app: Nope.
  10. Why not. + 1
  11. Having watched him fall, Zinawr bumbles over to the corpse, a toothy grin spread across his visage as he gave the apekha's body a sharp poke. "Another suicide, typical."
  12. Absolute mad one. + 1
  13. MaxGemini is a white furry.

  14. Max is an efficient slave driver +1
  15. Top stuff.