Jump to content

TheAlphaMoist

Diamond VIP
  • Content Count

    469
  • Joined

  • Last visited

Community Reputation

631 Legendary

6 Followers

About TheAlphaMoist

  • Rank
    Shop Owner
  • Birthday 07/07/1998

Contact Methods

  • Discord
    AlphaMoist#5682
  • Minecraft Username
    TheAlphaMoist
  • Skype
    kiausthompson
  • Email
    Yeah

Profile Information

  • Gender
    Male
  • Location
    Oklahoma, United States
  • Interests
    I enjoy long walks on the beach, listening to jazz as I watch the sun se- oh shit wait I thought this was Match.com. Sorry, how embarrassing..

Character Profile

  • Character Name
    Vas Vincrute, Balmak-Kibol, Marcas Weedsnatcher
  • Character Race
    That's racist

Recent Profile Visitors

13,317 profile views
  1. “****, sounds like someone got fired.” A mali’ame muttered. “Yikes.”
  2. “Oh no, please save us. Stop. No. Don’t let the mushrooms gets me, please. I’m so startled.” A mali’ame stated unenthusiastically.
  3. kpop? more like kpoop 😂

  4. Literally if you can tell me the title of this game, along with a youtube video of this scene with the sewing, or just a letsplay on it or something, I will give you 500 minas. I watched my cousin play this when I was like 7 or something and ever since then I think about it at least like twice a month. Please for the love of god help me.
  5. I give it the AlphaMoist seal of approval 👍🏻
  6. An Empty Throne, No More The Sable Principality of Vira’ker The Old Establishes a New For far too long, our royal throne has remained empty and stagnant whilst the royal crowns have collected an insulting layer of dust and grime. Vira’ker is in need of proper leadership, and after consulting with former princes Valen Syllar, Vulnir Syllar, and the former princess Leilatha Syllar, it has been decided that I, Vas Vincrute, will be taking on the mantle of Prince of Vira’ker. It is with this change and many more changes to come that I hope to bring stability and prosperity to our Principality once and for all. A Fresh Slate With this final change of leadership, it should come to no surprise that all former treaties, pacts, and the like are now considered null and void. However, as Prince, I encourage all municipalities and political entities that this will effect to reach out to me and my Onyx Council so that new bonds can be formed. A Declaration of Neutrality To start off my leadership, I wish to announce that the Sable Principality of Vira’ker will be taking a stance of neutrality regarding the current conflict plaguing Arcas. Myself and the Onyx Council will be focusing our resources into restoring our city so that it may become something greater than what it is now. A Final Thought I wish the best for the Mali’ker people, along with the entire populous of Vira’ker. I truly do. I was given the choice to allow the city and the Principality as a whole to fade away entirely. I am a stubborn Mali’, and I can’t allow this to happen without stepping into the ring and giving it my own attempt. I will give my all, and I will strive to obtain nothing more than the security, loyalty, and happiness of my people. I end this proclamation in hopes that this is just the beginning of a new, bright era for the Sable Principality of Vira’ker. Signed, His Highness, Vas Vincrute, Prince of Vira’ker Her Highness, Rosemary Vincrute, Princess of Vira’ker Valen Syllar Leilatha Syllar Vulnir Syllar
  7. I love you whiplash
  8. The Mali’ame sends a letter of his own to the Silver State, attached with the above text torn from one of the various letters now flooding his city. In very neat, cursive handwriting, the letter, delivered by a Blue Kestrel, would read: “You first. We accept mina, wealthy minerals, weaponry and armor donations, medical supplies, tea, the hands of he or they who harmed my child, and a cleaning crew to help rid our streets and waterways of all these blasted letters. Oh, and my daughter has quite the pickle addiction. Bring as many jars of pickles as you can, and that will definitely be a step in the right direction towards making amends with her. Oh, and of course, you will be expected to make the journey here yourselves. We will not be meeting anywhere other than our city’s gates. You lot do not deserve anywhere closer. Show up without an attitude, and perhaps you will be invited inside to deliver your apology gifts, and you’ll get a chance to rest for a while. If all is sufficient, you will be given the time to address anything and everything you would like to address to our council. You want us to act like kin? Act like kin to us. You want to establish good relations? Publicly denounce and apologize to us for the bad relations you have already set forth. We will accept nothing less. Have a good day.” Signed, Vas Vincrute
  9. A Mali’ame yawns behind his mask, then dons his thinking cap. ”So he’ll leave the Silver State when a small amount of individuals decide to learn about something that doesn’t quite adhere to his moral code, but he doesn’t even blink an eye when people get away with beating children from within the ‘aherals’ walls?” He gives a few nods. ”Makes sense to me.”
  10. Stop thanking my **** for the love of god please just rep me normally thanking doesn’t help my ratio

    1. Vesalian

      Vesalian

       Great post, thanks!

    2. TheAlphaMoist

      TheAlphaMoist

      That’s it I’m making a shitpost

  11. https://youtu.be/8TfeCAJEZeA An exhausted Mali’ame stares down at a freshly dug grave that has been adorned with flowers, trinkets, and other odds and ends over the past few elven hours. A kettle in his right hand, a glass in the other, he drinks his tea and just stares. His mask lays on the ground beside him. This wasn’t the first time he had visited the gravesite. No, the first time he visited, he had been with the dead man’s lover and father. They mourned for him. They cried and they wept. He had as well, but the mask kept his emotions hidden from all but the ancestors above. And now it sits on the ground, leaving his red, irritated, and dry eyes exposed for all to see. Thankfully, he had come alone. That was when he knew Daichia Jusmia the best: when they were alone together, sipping tea and talking about the goings on in their lives. The two used to do that quite a lot in the past. When the curse was first laid upon himself, Daichia was the first person the ‘ame came to about it. They had always been neighbors. He would wander over towards the Mali’ker’s house, knock on the door three times, and every night, consistently and without hesitation, Daichia would be there for him. He’d give the ‘ame tea, two ears to rant towards, and the security of knowing that he wasn’t alone that night. This changed. “You grew too busy to care about him.” “He was your friend, but you treated him like a stranger.” “You drove him away, ignored his cries for help, and you led to his murder.” “You fucked it up. Like you **** everything up.” The whispering started quietly within the ‘ame’s mind, but they grew louder and fiercer the longer he stared at the grave. “He came to you. Cried to you. Just like you did for him. And how did you repay him? With a cup of tea?” “No.” “With two ears for him to rant towards?” “No.” “Did you offer him the security and comfort he always provided you?” “No.” “No. You did not. You pat him on the shoulder; you told him everything was going to be alright. And then you left him to his wailing. And now he is dead. And you are partly to blame.” The mali’ame continues to stare at the grave, listening to the voice’s ramblings as he is always forced to do. Of course he wouldn’t be free from them during his time of mourning. The parasite never liked Daichia to begin with. “It’s been a while since we shared a cup of tea, old friend. This one’s on me.” Vas stretches his arm out, holding the kettle above the grave. He dips the handle, and a slow, steady stream of tea flows out of the spout. There was no steam escaping the brew as it hit the ground, and it causes him to wonder how long he had been standing there. It was piping hot when he had left his Clan Hall, and it’s not even fifty paces away from the gravesite. With that final thought, the ‘ame sighs, finishes his tea, and kneels down to the grave. “I’m sorry, old friend. I failed you.” He gets up, picks up his mask, and affixes it to his face, pulling his hood up around it afterwards. No one would see him cry this day. No one other than Daichia. Just like always.
  12. “Your kind literally bound and beat my daughter when she was four. I will faster believe your people’s actions than your words. I have met Orcs who are more civilized. Until Vira'ker gets a formal apology for such a barbarous act, I speak for all my fellow council members when I say we will not even consider looking in the Silver State's direction with neutral eyes." The tired Mali’ releases a loud yawn from under his mask, then slides his hands under it to rub his tired eyes. “Absolutely insulting.”
×
×
  • Create New...