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StorminJericho member of RPG for 3 years

Author Lifegiver Tipworthy

What really is there to say? I love writing, I love roleplaying, and I love to interact with others!
52,029 words written.
90 total posts.
578 words per post.
15 posts per roleplay.
154 average days in a roleplay.
6 universes joined.
1.25 INK received in tips.

Basic Information

Username:
StorminJericho
Age:
20
Interests:
I love to write! Though I can be pretty bad about it... I like reading and welding too!
Groups:
Began Role Playing:
31 Mar 2012
Favorite Role Playing Game:
Enclave, ironically
Game Master:
No
Favorite Setting:
High fantasy and Sci-fi, cyberpunk!

User statistics

Joined:
Fri Sep 22, 2017 10:06 pm
Last visited:
Tue Nov 24, 2020 10:07 pm
Medals:
3
Total posts:
Search user’s posts
(0.00% of all posts / 0.00 posts per day)
Most active forum:
Out of Character
(5 Posts / 250.00% of user’s posts)
Most active topic:
Project Oddity
(3 Posts / 150.00% of user’s posts)

Contact StorminJericho

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Lifegiver

Created a character in an RPG universe.

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Tipworthy

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Most Tipped Posts

1.00 INK received for post #2815619, located in Zoltia:

It was the hissing spit that really drew Iz’Hana’s focus; his head rolling upward in a languid, almost bored sort of fashion. His eyes narrowed on reflex as the Drow woman was shoved in with him, and he twitched as if to move towards her when she spat on the dwarf.

Inbau aturr ulu l’maerch, gorra’h.” Hissed the woman, her words driving Iz’Hana’s eyebrows high. His body twitched as if to move forward, to protect this… This kindred, this one like him, like so many others. But no.

No instead, he sat calmly, holding his breath and his body as still as the grave. As still as an animal watching for an opening. The guards held one eye on him, one on the woman, and one on the now raging dwarf.

He got no such opening. They left, and locked him in with someone… Interesting.

His focus turned to the woman as he stood to his full height, his arms creaking the entire way up. His eyes, far darker than hers, locked on the woman’s form as she curled away.
The trill she gave before she did though…

Iz’Hana returned the trill, a deeper, somewhat guttural thing, with an inflection on the end as well.
Then his hands moved, one coming up and resting over his eye, the palm facing out towards the woman.
Then they both came down, facing up towards the ceiling, as close to under his ribs as he could get them.

Then he repeated. Over and over until the woman looked, and responded.

The boredom faded quickly for Iz’Hana, and instead, exhilarated focus overtook him. He dared not speak, dared not to breathe until he was sure that she was what he thought she might be.

A comrade.


0.25 INK received for post #2816368, located in Atlas City:

Jemma was mid movement when the maid knocked against the wall of the hall. She came to a stop rather abruptly, her limbs and body coming to a perfect stand still as her eyes slid towards the human. It was a maid, one of the staff that helped keep the hotel-fortress-resort clean. She had chastised Jemma before, many warnings and general ‘reprimands’.

It always slid like water off of the Polymorph’s back. It meant nothing to her; at first. Jemma found that the woman, Marie, was NOT shy about physical contact with anyone perceived as misbehaving. Jemma had found herself swatted with a newspaper more than once.


Miss Jemma. I have asked you time and time again not to cover the lights of this hall with your… webbing!” The woman huffed, leering at Jemma from the end of the hall. Her eyes were faintly aglow with amber light, and Jemma had long enough to pause her music before Marie was rearing up to shout again.
Now! Miss! Get out of my hallways as I clean! I cannot be having this! Why is it always a mess with you?!

Jemma remained silent the entire time, though her eyes sparkled with mirth and glee as she sprinted down the hall and danced away. Marie’s hand flashed out, a rolled up bundle of paper and lamination snapping down on Jemma’s head. The polymorph barked a laugh in response, shrieking in delight as they leapt down the stairs nearby.

They bolted and flew down the flights, laughing the entire way; the world blurred around them as they moved— As SHE moved. She.

She… Huh.

She heard the sounds of Cannonade speaking, their ears perking up with a flash of interest.
She tilted her head before slowing her pace. Holding still and listening as the ‘druggie’ continued their talking. Jemma popped down the stairs at the end of sentence.

I know that I for one, don’t want anyone’s neck! … Unless I’m supposed to? What’s going on this time? What’re we talking about?” She asked, as if she HADN’T just heard what they were talking about. Somewhat. Hm.
She hoped that the gravity super wasn’t too touchy, today, maybe.


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