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Animorphs Role Playing / Re: GESB: OOC Discussion
« Last post by gh on Yesterday at 11:29:38 PM »
If this was a few months ago, I'd have been up for another RP, but as everyone is probably aware, I've been exceptionally busy lately. Turns out, working six days a week and trying to develop audio circuits doesn't leave a lot of free time or mental energy v.v

BTW, no rush, Tara, but Guppy is a little tied up until Myitt says or does something :P
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General Fan Fiction & Art / Re: Memoirs of a RAFian
« Last post by Cloak on Yesterday at 11:05:36 PM »
New chapter.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:
Fight Back!!

"But you're not a tiger!!!" he snarled. The rest of his pack was evidently forgotten to him now, though Ian Fefnir seemed to realize what Cloak's plan was. But he was browbeaten enough to know not to contradict their father, Abraham. Especially when he was in one of his rages. Such an ironfisted control he had over his pack, over his family.

Cloak had noticed this, but he was waiting. He was waiting to see . . . to be sure . . . until then, he was quite confident that he could handle this ruthless brute. Authoritarians are never loved, but feared. How anyone could enjoy such a role, Cloak would never know. He would never understand the need to have every little thing under your control -- it was a patent impossibility for every little thing to be under someone's control. It would just serve to make someone neurotic or paranoid or both. Why would anyone choose such a life, such a role?

He lunged at Cloak again. Why did he do this repeatedly? Cloak had demonstrated a number of times that this didn't work. Was he just that obtuse or simply obstinate? Cloak was finding it rather difficult to tell now. All his attacks were rather quixotic and impulsive, and so sadly predictable. Cloak wondered idly if the RAFians would have been this patient with this waiting to see if --

He swiped right, Cloak dodged left easily. He then swiped left and Cloak dodged right. It was really simple, paint-by-the-numbers type of fight. However, it would seem as if only Cloak himself was privy to this. Cloak quickly deduced that this guy didn't fight a lot. He clearly wasn't as trained a fighter as he believed he was. If anything, he was a berserker, someone who fights without any forethought or strategy, but just brute strength and nothing else.

"Fight back!" he roared, frustrated.

"And if I should refuse?" Cloak said. And, of course, the alpha, Abraham, had no answer. It was becoming increasingly clear that he could not touch the stranger, but his ego wouldn't allow him to end this battle or tell his children to help him. He wanted to do this, and he wanted the glory all to himself.

He never thought of the one weakness he and his children had. How this whole thing was pointless from the start. No, his enormous ego reigned supreme and his children were too afraid to disobey, or disappoint, or anger their father. His punishments . . . well, they're best not elaborated on in detail.

Cloak had no idea of their human identities, but he knew why the pack refused to go against their leader. It didn't take a rocket scientist or a brain surgeon to deduce that they were afraid and intimidated by him. Cloak could understand that -- he had dealt with that himself. He knew what prisons one's own mind could conjure up, which is why he held absolutely no enmity towards Shanker for fleeing. He thought he understood the emotions.

"Coward!!" the alpha werewolf snarled. "Fight me, like a man!!"

"I am no more a human than you are right now," Cloak said, wondering idly if this man was a Bern Bridges listener. He didn't know why that thought struck him at this particular moment, but it did. Perhaps it was because he was finding this battle rather lackluster. Garrotik, he wasn't.

"Stop talking in riddles!!" he roared.

"I wasn't," Cloak said, truthfully. Funny how obsessive this man could be. He was now obsessed with this fight, seemingly forgetting the entire reason he came here. All he thought about right now was winning this fight, and wiping what he imagined to be a smug smirk from Cloak's face, despite the face Cloak wasn't smiling at all. He was quite literally taking zero enjoyment from this fight.

"What are you waiting for?!"

Cloak ****ed his head, and gave him an incredulous look. "How haven't you figured it out by now?"
3
Animorphs Role Playing / Re: GESB: OOC Discussion
« Last post by Aluminator (Kit) on Yesterday at 10:45:11 PM »
I'll post for Al tomorrow. I'm out of... brain juice for tonight.
And by 'tomorrow,' of course, I mean three days later >.< Bleh. Sorry, guys.

Velociraptors?  o:  How did they end up at the space bar?  That sounds like an amusing story!
Somebody ordered a burger. What can I say? The meat at the GESB is exceptionally fresh :XD:

Thanks all. It's nice having a place to stretch the legs of a character I don't get to RP that much anymore. If anyone is ever interested in more story driven RP in a small group or even 1x1 just let me know. I would like a chance to develop this character more then I was able to in past RPs.
There was a period a while back where, since the GESB was lagging so badly, everyone was trying to start new RPs, and most of them just sort of fizzled. Sadly, RAF only seems to have the interest to consistently support this one RP these days. I'm very interested in doing more, but life is busy enough that I don't trust myself with more than just the one...

That said, though, if you stick around here long enough, you'll get the chance for some really excellent character development. This RP isn't always this slow, I promise >.<
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Animorphs Role Playing / Re: Galaxy's Edge Space Bar
« Last post by Aluminator (Kit) on Yesterday at 10:38:47 PM »
Al laughs and rolls his eyes. "Believe me, you're far from the first person to wind up here with no idea how to leave." He shrugs. "People seem to just fade out from time to time. It was creepy at first, but you get used to it. The ones that come back later have usually ended up at home." He twirls a finger around his ear in the 'crazy' gesture. "Just part of the appeal of this nuthouse, I guess."

"Ah, young grasshoppah," He says, in his 'elderly kung-fu master' voice. "You have more to offer than widgets. You should be putting a high price on information." He grins and drops the accent. "I imagine Salem will be as interested in your dome and your mind powers," he wiggles his fingers beside his head in a gesture that he seems to think means 'telepathy,' "as I am. Difference is that you can make him pay you for specifics."

"Tell you what," he says, looking towards the bar. "It sounds like it's died down to a dull roar in there. Let's head inside. I could sure as heck use a drink." He spins on his heel and heads for the door. "I'll buy us a round."

As he walks, he cups his hand and calls towards the lake, "Hey, Will, join us inside when you're all squeaky clean! Drinks courtesy of my friend's bank account!"
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Animorphs Forum Classic / Re: Graphic Novel?
« Last post by GokaiBlue on Yesterday at 08:47:40 PM »
Wow...it is really easy to get my hopes up. This isn't even close to being confirmed and I'm already excited XD
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Introductions & Departures / Re: A new arrival
« Last post by dreamsleever on Yesterday at 07:22:36 PM »
Whalecome to the site!  :)  Glad you kept your books!
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General Fan Fiction & Art / Re: Memoirs of a RAFian
« Last post by Cloak on Yesterday at 02:49:05 PM »
New chapter.

CHAPTER TWELVE:
Questions to Be Asked

Shanker was still clutching to his roost under the eaves of this house, which was on the outskirts of the outskirts of suburbia. He didn't know how far away he was from the forum, from Cloak and the Fefnir clan. He still shivered with fear as images of their abuse and fearmongering and intimidation played through his mind as if he was strapped down in a cinema and forced to watch a movie that he rather not.

The more he tried not to think about Cloak and the Fefnir clan, almost paradoxically, the more he did. He did not want to constantly revisit this stuff in his mind or in reality. He had thought he was free, he thought he was . . . free . . .

He had successfully repressed all these hurtful memories. Or, at least, he thought he had. But, as it turns out, he had repressed them without really dealing with them. He had suppressed and downplayed them, as they were not significant. He had even tried to convince himself of this. He had tried so hard . . .

But none of it was true, was it? What happened really happened, and pretending that it didn't was doing him far more harm than good. He had always harbored a guilt for killing the boy -- but he knew it and understood it to necessary for his escape, but part him wondered. Was it really? Was it really necessary to slay that boy? He didn't do it in cold blood, so to speak, but he was like a frenzied, pent-up animal desperate for freedom.

But did he have to kill the werewolf adolescent? Was it truly necessary or . . . or excessive? Could he have just pushed him aside and . . . no. The truth of the matter was that he couldn't do that. He was already very malnourished at the time, and his strength was sapped, even with the kindness they gave him about allowing just the most bare-bones food proportions. He would have died of starvation or just by werewolf, and he had picked the one that felt less dangerous, less incumbent.

The alpha Fefnir would not rest until his head was on a pike. The alpha actually thought that he was being kind to Shanker by allowing him to live so that he could be hunted and chewed on every full moon. This is why his Boggart was a full moon -- because it meant torture . . .

But then why didn't he leave when the moon wasn't full? Why did he stay? Why didn't he escape then? Full moons only came once a month, after all. He could have left . . . as malnourished and mistreated as he was, he could have left. And . . . yet . . . he never did. He fed on the woodland critters to get his vampiric sustenance, but he didn't leave. He could have any time that it wasn't. He could have . . . why didn't he? Oh, why didn't he? Did that boy really have to die? He could have left before the full moon rose that night, or just simply left earlier.

But would they have allowed him? When he left, it was when the whole Fefnir clan had gotten complacent with him, had gotten careless. They were at the point where he was little more than their beaten pet. No, he was lower than that. They had cowed him into compliance, with the alpha in particular taking a sadistic joy out of it. He was a cruel, twisted man -- and he was that way whether wolf or man.

Shanker was little more than animal to them, a thing undeserving of compassion and understanding. Not surprising, as this alpha obviously considered such things shameful weaknesses. He was a man who believed strength was being cruel and merciless, that being tough was refusing to seek medical attention for any wound, no matter the severity. He was a backwater primitive sort of man.

Shanker could not face him again. He could not . . .

Why did Aidan abandon him there? Why did his own maker forsake him in such a way? To a vampire, his or her maker was very much like their father or mother, and their sire a child. He would have never abandon his two sires in such a way. Never. He was unable to stop Gaz's blood brother from being slain by the Slayer, but he tried. He had tried. Why was he neglected and rejected in such a way? Why did his maker not show him the kind of loyalty that he showed his own sires?
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Animorphs Role Playing / Re: GESB: OOC Discussion
« Last post by dreamsleever on Yesterday at 02:30:01 PM »
Yay!

Sorry that I haven't posted much lately, got a bit of stuff going on in life.  ^.^
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Introductions & Departures / Re: A new arrival
« Last post by .: Asmo on Yesterday at 10:45:22 AM »
This site is very dead. It's a withered husk of a shell compared to it's former glory.

Welcome.
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Introductions & Departures / Re: A new arrival
« Last post by Quaf on March 22, 2017, 06:34:02 PM »
Most of the people on here are American, so they might be asleep or at work/school.
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