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CabbageAngel member of RPG for 9 years

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Yo. Thought I'd update this. I'm basically an aspiring film maker and dork that finds myself falling further into the pit of geeky hobbies each year. I, like probably many others, dream of the day that I'll reach the end of a roleplay and not be stuck staring at thirteen posts, wondering what could have been. Help my dream come true!
449,783 words written.
672 total posts.
669 words per post.
22 posts per roleplay.
209 average days in a roleplay.
30 universes joined.
41.75 INK received in tips.

Basic Information

Film making, storytelling, reading through and feeling sad about old roleplays that had so much potential but just stopped, d&d podcasts, wasting time.
Game Master:
Favorite Setting:
I really like fantasy things...

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Sun Apr 27, 2014 8:47 pm
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Most active forum:
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(165 Posts / 589.29% of user’s posts)
Most active topic:
Abandoned In Amtophia
(24 Posts / 85.71% of user’s posts)

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Universes Created

Vampire Knight: Blood Requiem

Watch your neck and seal your lips, the academy is hungry for your blood and secrets.

Please Scroll Past

I'm a newbie so this is a little bit of experimental stuff. If this annoys you then I'm going to kill it when I get the hang of something... though it shouldn't annoy you if you ignore it. Ignore me...

Most Tipped Posts

15.00 INK received for post #2817724, located in Rhindeval:


Reese stood back from the tears and confusion, cutting a path right through it to Lilith with her glare. Her parents' whispers tickled her ears like a breeze, carrying commands and warnings. Each of these girls cherubic faces she recalled from her past, her parents had taught her three ways to perceive: useful, adversary, or a useful adversary. She knew for certain none of those in front of her knew that their playdates were being hammered into Princess Euphemia as "just politics". Ah, then there were those swamp dwellers.

"You will not look at them. You will not consume anything they offer you. You will not speak to them until we are satisfied with how well you hide yourself, Euph..."

"... phemia!"

"Don't call me that, Fred. It's weird." Reese reflexively snapped, not taking her eyes off Lilith. Seemed the whispers couldn't do much against the thirteen years of Reese she'd spent living. It sounded like this sorceress was expecting them to go to war. Talk of powers and evil witches bouncing around the circle. She wanted to tell Lilith to go to hell with whatever battle plan she'd concocted, Reese had rent and homework due by the end of the week. Reese's problems didn't just get magicked away by Euphemia's intrusion! Thinking about the goddamn gall of it was going to pop a blood vessel -

"Hello, hello, make way."

Reese lifted her head. The memory jabbed her right between the eyes like a really unwelcome labotomy. No. No, no, no. Not HER. She could feel her presence strong enough without even looking. Don't let HER be one of us. No, no, no! Don't let HER be-!

"'Tis a shame the Serein family sired no male heirs. It seems the gods have yet again conspired to keep our kingdoms from uniting. Perhaps it will come in our next generation, if Serein tolerates our consort with those beasts."

Euphemia looked up at the castle in the sky. Feathers spiraled towards her from the pegasi that soared above. She swore they had come from the Angelite statues that kept the palace safe within its cradle of clouds. A glint of light came from the castle's gates as the royal family sent their princess forth to greet her, her silver head illuminated like a halo.

Months later, the shoddy remains of Euphemia's 'art project' were blasted into pale blue dust by her disgusted mother.

"By ALL means, stay behind and be a peasant. You certainly think like one."

Reese's fists shook. Going around and crushing those who didn't meet her standards again, she hadn't changed, she didn't even change one bit! The only way to not be looked down on by her was to stare her right back in the eye as her reflection! This had to be THE greatest betrayal her awakened memories had slapped her with, she couldn't believe that she had ever wanted this brat's attention! When Justice's last words left her mouth, Reese's anger had nowhere else to go. She'd already been verbally assaulted by the diva once today. It didn't take Reese much to snap on a regular day either.

Reese yanked Justice by the shoulder, threw her around to face her, grabbed her by the front of her fancy new dress and SLAMMED her forehead into her face.

"IS THIS ALL YOU EVER YAMMER ON ABOUT?!" Reese snarled, shoving her away. Blood marked her forehead, either Justice's or hers. "Lucie, Justice, whatever, your stupid size zero dress means nothing when your ego is too fat to try on some fucking human decency! Maybe Lilith sending them here to live like 'peasants' was the best thing that could've happened to them! At least they got the chance to grow into damn decent people! You never stopped being a spoiled fucking PRINCESS!"

And with that, Reese threw herself at her. If they didn't act quick the princesses were about to bear witness to the first fight that would surely become many between these two kingdoms. First fought by tooth and nail, and then, by the natural escalation: army and trebuchet.

15.00 INK received for post #2817716, located in The Horat-verse:

Xanth tried dodging the stampede that didn't bother looking down at what it was trampling over when the attack launched. After getting beaten around by elbows and knees, she flattened against Kaor's backside. She slapped away Kaor's signed command for her to get to safety with one hand as she unlatched the bracelet of a woman running past her and pocketed it with the other. The Mayor was on his way out, but he still stood for the town's will. Violence was a language Xanth could speak and she wanted to be paid for it. She signed Kaor the plan, and dashed off, leaving the dog to guard the beast woman's back.

In shadow, Xanth skittered up a wall. It was a simple strategy, but one that served them well during their time as mercenaries. Kaor stayed on the ground and drew attention while Xanth assassinated them from above. She had to be careful here, she reminded herself as she slipped over the roof and hid herself beneath an overhanging fixture from a Tengu swooping overhead, she didn't have the high ground advantage that she normally did. Xanth drew her twin daggers and waited.

As was the life of an assassin. A far cry from the invulnerable mass murderers myth had conjured them to be of late. An assassin that ever found themselves in the position of having to take out twenty people at once was a miserable excuse for one. Assassins had one job, and one job only, and that was killing a target before they knew death was coming. Most of Xanth's extensive kill count found their deaths in their own beds or, if they were lucky, the latrine, where the corpses could defecate respectfully. The gig wasn't glamorous. If she could tell them the truth, she would.

Black wings swooped past her hiding place. All the tension in Xanth's body exploded and she sprung out, latching onto the Tengu's back with claw-like knives into the base of his neck. She rode the hurtling Tengu down. His body took the impact of the fall, and they skidded to a stop, punctuated by Xanth splitting him open from his shoulder to his jugular. She cut off his nose in one swoop, pocketed it for proof, and was out of sight in a blink. She climbed to the rooftops, tucked herself into a little crevice, and began the wait again.

The second advantage came quicker than the first, and Xanth shot out for it - but the Tengu turned in his flight, and her dagger made its mark in the joint of his wing. She dangled with nothing to push herself off with until she was shaken off. She gripped one of her daggers between her teeth mid-air and planted herself on the wall she'd been tossed into. Foolish. She began her hobble of shame back into the shadows, when a horrible sound struck her ears. Her head jerked to catch her companion's snout turned up to the sky, her maw wide in a howl of pain. The world seemed to shake as the great bear was brought to her knees.

The dog made the valiant effort of biting at her attacker's ankles, managing to tear one off her and shaking their leg so violently Xanth could hear the bones breaking. Her vision went red. The lines around her eyes grew deep and harsh, and she took off sprinting. Her body jutted out sideways from the walls she ran over until she was upright on the rooftops again, not bothering to try hiding herself from their airborne attackers. She took the dagger from her teeth as she arced around and bared them in a snarl as she leapt, sailing over the heads of those coming to Kaor's aid, her knives out, an agent of quiet fury and death striking from above -

Thwack. Xanth was intercepted. A bandit had played her trick and swooped her from above, plucking her away from vengeance. Her targets and friend grew smaller beneath her dangling feet as she was carried away from the battle. A dagger twisted in her side, which Xanth didn't realize until it was already going for her throat. She immediately turned on her kidnapper, struggling and stabbing at them as they attempted the same. Their battle continued on in the sky, a scramble that kept ducking mid-flight and threatening to plummet. Her attacker quickly became fed up with the little rat climbing and bleeding all over him and he tried dropping her to her death. Xanth's hand shot out as she fell and glued onto his shirt, yanking him down with her as she swiped out at his nose with her knife. He roared out in pain and gave his wings a mighty flap. The fabric tore and Xanth fell down towards the alleys with the Tengu's nose, a scrap of cloth stuck to her outstretched hand.

2.50 INK received for post #2815623, located in Zoltia:

Dreador looked at her captive companion like she couldn't believe him. She slowly raised from the seat she had condemned herself to, eyes flicking between the movement of his hands. Trust. Help. Trust. Help. Over and over. She lifted a hand, pressed the back of it lightly against her eye, then prowled forward.

"Inbal dos tlus iff'brut quin?" she began, testing the stranger for the Gaurrean old tongues, then continued in her heavy accent, "Have you been marked?"

She knelt by him and gestured to the back of her neck.

1.00 INK received for post #2817907, located in Rhindeval:


Not even the dull thud of his boots could bring the nervous guard comfort as he went down. Everything moved slow and thick through molasses here, even the sounds. A noise had to be of a particular frequency to cut through the humidity, let's say, for example, a piercing scream. But the guard could hear no screams, an observation that did not come as a relief as you'd expect. Like a canary in a coal mine, when the dungeon stopped singing the silence was often proceeded by death. Generally because the canary was looking for its next meal. Of course this was the place the preacher of death would send him to. Nothing ever pleasant came from the orders of that man no matter how delicately he wrapped them.

He pushed through the damp air down into the hovel his fellow guardsmen had congregated. Remarkably none of them even glanced up. That was very deliberate.

"... Will one of you deliver a message for Benedicto Carama?"

They moved in unison like cockroaches scattering, twitching their heads anywhere but his direction. "Hm?" "Huh?" The guard stared down one until eventually he broke out of their collective deafness and reluctantly stepped forward.

"I can escort you, but that's all I'm willing. Come," he sighed and beckoned the guard out.

"Thank you," the guard grunted with a sharp look at his colleagues as he was led. As they walked further, and the air grew thicker still, he wondered if he would have the breath to even speak upon his arrival. He looked to his guide. Might as well use his words before he started choking. His companion was bigger than him, and suffering for it, sweating out of every chink in his armor. "So is it a requirement for the profession or does one develop it to keep ones sanity intact? That deafness back there."

"Oh?" The guide perked up and chuckled, "Ohh, no, no, we hear the screams loud and clear, in waking and sleep." His brows furrowed in concern and the guard watched sweat catch between the creases. "The Master sent a woman up today. It's a... stressful process, for him."

The guard raised his brow. "Tantrum?"

"Only the one. They're not too often, but when they come, they're... you know of degustation? Well, uh, they're small, but they come in twenty courses."

The guard cracked a smile at the man. "With complimenting whines?"

His fellow guardsman didn't catch his bad joke. "My point is they're predictable, but right now there's... something foreign that was introduced to his environment, and we've been waiting a few hours for the other nineteen courses."

"And what is this foreign entity?"


"... What toy is the Master playing with right now."

a child..."



"... A CHI-"

Eike worked in silence. His subject was very still, which pleased him. She was in fact petrified in fear.

"It's done." He announced and stepped back, tossing the measurement tape aside into an unraveled pile. The little girl remained very, very still, her arms stretched out as far as they can go. Her toes curled over the edge of her stool. Something tugged her hand down, and different coloured ribbons began to wrap around her forearm. "Your skin..." Eike murmured. His glassy eyes were fixated on his fingers. She had not seen him blink once since he'd propped her up like a mannequin and began his work. "... It's pretty when it's young."

The little girl flinched, but didn't let out a sound as the ribbons became uncomfortably tight.

"It's... disappointing, how it doesn't keep pretty when stretched over your bigger body." He tapped each of the ribbons on her arm settling on a lilac one. He began to unwrap the ribbons, one by one, leaving pink lines in their wake. His big eyes suddenly darted up to hers. His hand neared her face, and she held her breath, when he took one of her rosy cheeks between his finger and thumb and squished it. "One day these will rise with blisters and be carved out by scars." He informed her, deadly serious, "Their red will not be endeared then."

He glared at her so intensely, it was as though he was threatening her to grow up, right now, if she dared. Then he tied the lilac ribbon in a bow around her neck and lifted her off the stool with a vacant smile.

"But for now your skin suits the same pigment as your mother." He announced as he skipped to a basket and produced an armful of violet cloth, "I have enough fabric left over from your mother's dress for you!"

The little girl, staring right at the scraps of the dress her mother was sent to her death in, let out a noise like a little boiling teapot that then devolved into incoherent sound as her tears bubbled over. Eike clicked his tongue and looked down at the mess in his arms in annoyance.

"Don't... do that, it's not finished yet. It will be a dress soon," he comforted her, "It will be finished tomorrow evening, if..." his eyes slid over to the door, expectantly, "... I'm not interrupted."

Knock, knock.

You would assume that for one who spent their existence stewing in the rot and shadow that was Ivelda's dungeons, a trip into the sun would be a joyous occasion. For Eike, not so much. He breached the "above-world" like a prisoner being dragged up for execution. The light was too bright, the air was tasteless and the smells were - well, they weren't even there. He couldn't feel Ivelda's love here. It was all a white void. The only thing that he would ever surface for, and the only thing that kept him braving it, excluding the stuffed bear he held, was the promise of Ivelda herself.

Upon reaching her throne room, he kept his mouth shut, and fell to his knees in a bow before her. Her perfume carried to him like the sweet rot in her torture chambers. It was a caress compared to the embrace from her he felt below, and it was t a i n t e d by the p A R a S i t E S in their presence, here to suckle at the same golden teat of which HE was moST DESERVING -

Eike shut his eyes with a sigh, and let them fall back into the white void until only he and Ivelda and their love remained.

1.00 INK received for post #2817017, located in The Horat-verse:

Xanth responded to Kaor's chortling with a shrug and ran an affectionate hand through the bear woman's fur. Then she threw the rest of her skewer to the dog and began making enthusiastic hand motions in Kaor's peripherals, her mass of hair wobbling precariously atop her head. Quick, precise gestures that would lend themselves well to the hands of a pickpocket. Her hands swiftly tapped around her chest and lips, which expressively but clumsily mouthed words like they were lyrics to a song she didn't know. Her one sided conversation continued on into the tavern her bipedal mount lumbered to, parting the crowds with ease - when a waitress shouted over her.

Xanth stopped talking. She turned her head down to the woman with an exasperated sigh. Her hands exploded out in several violent gestures before her shoulders shook with amusement like she'd made a joke. It was hard to tell how much was genuine frustration. She whistled a few notes and claws scrambling against bamboo floors answered. The massive mutt that had been in Kaor's shadow skidded to her feet with a bark to attention. Xanth slid down her trunk-like arm and settled comfortably on her smaller furry companion. She held up three fingers, spun one in a circle, followed by quicker and far more incomprehensible gestures, then a tap on her throat and a face like she'd bit into a lemon.

The sound of snuffling caught her ear and she looked to catch the sight of her seat slobbering on the pants leg of their Beast-Man neighbor. Her cheeks bunched up in absolute delight and her fingers wiggled a greeting, while her eyes regarded his for about two seconds before they zipped down to his backside. She moved her hands in the same - interpretive dance? she'd just challenged the waitress with, punctuated with an expectant stare.


Before any of you make a comment about it - MY CABBAGES!

Take that.