Introduction
Please provide at least 3 tags for your roleplay. Be careful! Choosing a tag can not only help you promote your roleplay to interested parties (as it
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Please ask permission to use anything I create. This storage was created for the purpose of keeping all my thoughts collected and to test new coding. Please do not submit characters as this is not an actual roleplay, however if you would like to use this storage as well please notify me. The title comes from Lord Byron's poem 'She Walks in Beauty.' [x]
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Setting
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You can also simply not include anything at all, and encourage other players to explore this character's personality throughroleplaying roleplaying.╔══════════════════════════════════════╗.║.
━━ "Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago."xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx║.
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♚ Emily Winston
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Cras non hendrerit lacus. Aliquam sit amet urna fringilla, maximus turpis eu, mattis ante. Donec elementum nec dolor quis commodo. Nullam ultricies ex sed velit tincidunt, nec condimentum nibh iaculis. Nunc viverra sapien at nulla volutpat suscipit. Duis ut purus odio. Phasellus ultricies nulla vitae dapibus imperdiet. Duis scelerisque neque non porttitor sodales. Donec eget dui quis urna laoreet venenatis sit amet a turpis. Sed diam urna, placerat eget lectus et, elementum luctus tortor. Vestibulum elit nunc, malesuada vitae dapibus vitae, efficitur sit amet nibh. Maecenas molestie ex vitae blandit dignissim.
Maecenas in elit blandit, ornare ipsum at, maximus lectus. Vestibulum cursus, arcu et tincidunt tincidunt, est neque efficitur sapien, eget finibus nulla purus a lectus. Suspendisse sit amet eleifend magna. Aliquam ut magna aliquam, eleifend purus at, rutrum enim. Maecenas ac velit ut ipsum consectetur tempor efficitur eu metus. Mauris nec iaculis eros. Sed non lacinia augue. Suspendisse eget magna tortor. Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas. Duis ultrices velit ac auctor rhoncus. Phasellus suscipit metus ante, nec semper est consequat sed. Praesent molestie gravida nisl tempor lacinia. Ut tempus consequat rutrum. In feugiat at augue ac condimentum. Nulla facilisi. Maecenas ac ipsum vel urna ornare lobortis a nec sem.
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In accumsan nisi ut nulla imperdiet, eget laoreet sapien luctus. Mauris efficitur purus et sapien auctor, efficitur vestibulum felis venenatis. Aenean luctus leo arcu, eget mattis augue fermentum vel. Sed non posuere eros. In et nisi urna. Cras nulla nibh, hendrerit eget tellus ac, auctor auctor magna. Sed congue egestas nunc sit amet blandit. Nam venenatis molestie urna, ut ullamcorper dolor aliquet vitae. Sed mattis neque sit amet leo facilisis, et tristique diam auctor. Ut volutpat diam mauris, sed congue nisi ornare ut. Praesent a dui magna. In vitae pharetra lorem.
Cras non hendrerit lacus. Aliquam sit amet urna fringilla, maximus turpis eu, mattis ante. Donec elementum nec dolor quis commodo. Nullam ultricies ex sed velit tincidunt, nec condimentum nibh iaculis. Nunc viverra sapien at nulla volutpat suscipit. Duis ut purus odio. Phasellus ultricies nulla vitae dapibus imperdiet. Duis scelerisque neque non porttitor sodales. Donec eget dui quis urna laoreet venenatis sit amet a turpis. Sed diam urna, placerat eget lectus et, elementum luctus tortor. Vestibulum elit nunc, malesuada vitae dapibus vitae, efficitur sit amet nibh. Maecenas molestie ex vitae blandit dignissim.
Maecenas in elit blandit, ornare ipsum at, maximus lectus. Vestibulum cursus, arcu et tincidunt tincidunt, est neque efficitur sapien, eget finibus nulla purus a lectus. Suspendisse sit amet eleifend magna. Aliquam ut magna aliquam, eleifend purus at, rutrum enim. Maecenas ac velit ut ipsum consectetur tempor efficitur eu metus. Mauris nec iaculis eros. Sed non lacinia augue. Suspendisse eget magna tortor. Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas. Duis ultrices velit ac auctor rhoncus. Phasellus suscipit metus ante, nec semper est consequat sed. Praesent molestie gravida nisl tempor lacinia. Ut tempus consequat rutrum. In feugiat at augue ac condimentum. Nulla facilisi. Maecenas ac ipsum vel urna ornare lobortis a nec sem.
Setting
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Richard Cory
BY EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON
Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich—yes, richer than a king—
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.
BY EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON
Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich—yes, richer than a king—
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.
Setting
0.00 INK
Ode on Indolence
BY JOHN KEATS
‘They toil not, neither do they spin.’
One morn before me were three figures seen,
With bowèd necks, and joinèd hands, side-faced;
And one behind the other stepp’d serene,
In placid sandals, and in white robes graced;
They pass’d, like figures on a marble urn,
When shifted round to see the other side;
They came again; as when the urn once more
Is shifted round, the first seen shades return;
And they were strange to me, as may betide
With vases, to one deep in Phidian lore.
How is it, Shadows! that I knew ye not?
How came ye muffled in so hush a mask?
Was it a silent deep-disguisèd plot
To steal away, and leave without a task
My idle days? Ripe was the drowsy hour;
The blissful cloud of summer-indolence
Benumb’d my eyes; my pulse grew less and less;
Pain had no sting, and pleasure’s wreath no flower:
O, why did ye not melt, and leave my sense
Unhaunted quite of all but—nothingness?
A third time pass’d they by, and, passing, turn’d
Each one the face a moment whiles to me;
Then faded, and to follow them I burn’d
And ached for wings, because I knew the three;
The first was a fair Maid, and Love her name;
The second was Ambition, pale of cheek,
And ever watchful with fatiguèd eye;
The last, whom I love more, the more of blame
Is heap’d upon her, maiden most unmeek,—
I knew to be my demon Poesy.
They faded, and, forsooth! I wanted wings:
O folly! What is Love? and where is it?
And for that poor Ambition! it springs
From a man’s little heart’s short fever-fit;
For Poesy!—no,—she has not a joy,—
At least for me,—so sweet as drowsy noons,
And evenings steep’d in honey’d indolence;
O, for an age so shelter’d from annoy,
That I may never know how change the moons,
Or hear the voice of busy common-sense!
And once more came they by:—alas! wherefore?
My sleep had been embroider’d with dim dreams;
My soul had been a lawn besprinkled o’er
With flowers, and stirring shades, and baffled beams:
The morn was clouded, but no shower fell,
Tho’ in her lids hung the sweet tears of May;
The open casement press’d a new-leaved vine,
Let in the budding warmth and throstle’s lay;
O Shadows! ’twas a time to bid farewell!
Upon your skirts had fallen no tears of mine.
So, ye three Ghosts, adieu! Ye cannot raise
My head cool-bedded in the flowery grass;
For I would not be dieted with praise,
A pet-lamb in a sentimental farce!
Fade softly from my eyes, and be once more
In masque-like figures on the dreamy urn;
Farewell! I yet have visions for the night,
And for the day faint visions there is store;
Vanish, ye Phantoms! from my idle spright,
Into the clouds, and never more return!
BY JOHN KEATS
‘They toil not, neither do they spin.’
One morn before me were three figures seen,
With bowèd necks, and joinèd hands, side-faced;
And one behind the other stepp’d serene,
In placid sandals, and in white robes graced;
They pass’d, like figures on a marble urn,
When shifted round to see the other side;
They came again; as when the urn once more
Is shifted round, the first seen shades return;
And they were strange to me, as may betide
With vases, to one deep in Phidian lore.
How is it, Shadows! that I knew ye not?
How came ye muffled in so hush a mask?
Was it a silent deep-disguisèd plot
To steal away, and leave without a task
My idle days? Ripe was the drowsy hour;
The blissful cloud of summer-indolence
Benumb’d my eyes; my pulse grew less and less;
Pain had no sting, and pleasure’s wreath no flower:
O, why did ye not melt, and leave my sense
Unhaunted quite of all but—nothingness?
A third time pass’d they by, and, passing, turn’d
Each one the face a moment whiles to me;
Then faded, and to follow them I burn’d
And ached for wings, because I knew the three;
The first was a fair Maid, and Love her name;
The second was Ambition, pale of cheek,
And ever watchful with fatiguèd eye;
The last, whom I love more, the more of blame
Is heap’d upon her, maiden most unmeek,—
I knew to be my demon Poesy.
They faded, and, forsooth! I wanted wings:
O folly! What is Love? and where is it?
And for that poor Ambition! it springs
From a man’s little heart’s short fever-fit;
For Poesy!—no,—she has not a joy,—
At least for me,—so sweet as drowsy noons,
And evenings steep’d in honey’d indolence;
O, for an age so shelter’d from annoy,
That I may never know how change the moons,
Or hear the voice of busy common-sense!
And once more came they by:—alas! wherefore?
My sleep had been embroider’d with dim dreams;
My soul had been a lawn besprinkled o’er
With flowers, and stirring shades, and baffled beams:
The morn was clouded, but no shower fell,
Tho’ in her lids hung the sweet tears of May;
The open casement press’d a new-leaved vine,
Let in the budding warmth and throstle’s lay;
O Shadows! ’twas a time to bid farewell!
Upon your skirts had fallen no tears of mine.
So, ye three Ghosts, adieu! Ye cannot raise
My head cool-bedded in the flowery grass;
For I would not be dieted with praise,
A pet-lamb in a sentimental farce!
Fade softly from my eyes, and be once more
In masque-like figures on the dreamy urn;
Farewell! I yet have visions for the night,
And for the day faint visions there is store;
Vanish, ye Phantoms! from my idle spright,
Into the clouds, and never more return!
Setting
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A Garden
By H. P. Lovecraft
There’s an ancient, ancient garden that I see sometimes in dreams,
Where the very Maytime sunlight plays and glows with spectral gleams;
Where the gaudy-tinted blossoms seem to wither into grey,
And the crumbling walls and pillars waken thoughts of yesterday.
There are vines in nooks and crannies, and there’s moss about the pool,
And the tangled weedy thicket chokes the arbour dark and cool:
In the silent sunken pathways springs an herbage sparse and spare,
Where the musty scent of dead things dulls the fragrance of the air.
There is not a living creature in the lonely space around,
And the hedge-encompass’d quiet never echoes to a sound.
As I walk, and wait, and listen, I will often seek to find
When it was I knew that garden in an age long left behind;
I will oft conjure a vision of a day that is no more,
As I gaze upon the grey, grey scenes I feel I knew before.
Then a sadness settles o’er me, and a tremor seems to start:
For I know the flow’rs are shrivell’d hopes—the garden is my heart!
By H. P. Lovecraft
There’s an ancient, ancient garden that I see sometimes in dreams,
Where the very Maytime sunlight plays and glows with spectral gleams;
Where the gaudy-tinted blossoms seem to wither into grey,
And the crumbling walls and pillars waken thoughts of yesterday.
There are vines in nooks and crannies, and there’s moss about the pool,
And the tangled weedy thicket chokes the arbour dark and cool:
In the silent sunken pathways springs an herbage sparse and spare,
Where the musty scent of dead things dulls the fragrance of the air.
There is not a living creature in the lonely space around,
And the hedge-encompass’d quiet never echoes to a sound.
As I walk, and wait, and listen, I will often seek to find
When it was I knew that garden in an age long left behind;
I will oft conjure a vision of a day that is no more,
As I gaze upon the grey, grey scenes I feel I knew before.
Then a sadness settles o’er me, and a tremor seems to start:
For I know the flow’rs are shrivell’d hopes—the garden is my heart!
Setting
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Invictus
BY WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
BY WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
Setting
0.00 INK
Harlem Related Poem
BY LANGSTON HUGHES
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore—
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over—
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
BY LANGSTON HUGHES
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore—
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over—
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
Setting
0.00 INK
[anyone lived in a pretty how town]
BY E. E. CUMMINGS
anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn’t he danced his did.
Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn’t they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain
children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more
when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone’s any was all to her
someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream
stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)
one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was
all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.
Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain
BY E. E. CUMMINGS
anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn’t he danced his did.
Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn’t they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain
children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more
when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone’s any was all to her
someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream
stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)
one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was
all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.
Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain
Setting
0.00 INK
The Death of a Moth
By VIRGINA WOOLF
The legs agitated themselves once more. I looked as if for the enemy against which he struggled. I looked out of doors. What had happened there? Presumably it was midday, and work in the fields had stopped. Stillness and quiet had replaced the previous animation. The birds had taken themselves off to feed in the brooks. The horses stood still. Yet the power was there all the same, massed outside indifferent, impersonal, not attending to anything in particular. Somehow it was opposed to the little hay-coloured moth. It was useless to try to do anything. One could only watch the extraordinary efforts made by those tiny legs against an oncoming doom which could, had it chosen, have submerged an entire city, not merely a city, but masses of human beings; nothing, I knew, had any chance against death. Nevertheless after a pause of exhaustion the legs fluttered again. It was superb this last protest, and so frantic that he succeeded at last in righting himself. One’s sympathies, of course, were all on the side of life. Also, when there was nobody to care or to know, this gigantic effort on the part of an insignificant little moth, against a power of such magnitude, to retain what no one else valued or desired to keep, moved one strangely. Again, somehow, one saw life, a pure bead. I lifted the pencil again, useless though I knew it to be. But even as I did so, the unmistakable tokens of death showed themselves. The body relaxed, and instantly grew stiff. The struggle was over. The insignificant little creature now knew death. As I looked at the dead moth, this minute wayside triumph of so great a force over so mean an antagonist filled me with wonder. Just as life had been strange a few minutes before, so death was now as strange. The moth having righted himself now lay most decently and uncomplainingly composed. O yes, he seemed to say, death is stronger than I am.
By VIRGINA WOOLF
The legs agitated themselves once more. I looked as if for the enemy against which he struggled. I looked out of doors. What had happened there? Presumably it was midday, and work in the fields had stopped. Stillness and quiet had replaced the previous animation. The birds had taken themselves off to feed in the brooks. The horses stood still. Yet the power was there all the same, massed outside indifferent, impersonal, not attending to anything in particular. Somehow it was opposed to the little hay-coloured moth. It was useless to try to do anything. One could only watch the extraordinary efforts made by those tiny legs against an oncoming doom which could, had it chosen, have submerged an entire city, not merely a city, but masses of human beings; nothing, I knew, had any chance against death. Nevertheless after a pause of exhaustion the legs fluttered again. It was superb this last protest, and so frantic that he succeeded at last in righting himself. One’s sympathies, of course, were all on the side of life. Also, when there was nobody to care or to know, this gigantic effort on the part of an insignificant little moth, against a power of such magnitude, to retain what no one else valued or desired to keep, moved one strangely. Again, somehow, one saw life, a pure bead. I lifted the pencil again, useless though I knew it to be. But even as I did so, the unmistakable tokens of death showed themselves. The body relaxed, and instantly grew stiff. The struggle was over. The insignificant little creature now knew death. As I looked at the dead moth, this minute wayside triumph of so great a force over so mean an antagonist filled me with wonder. Just as life had been strange a few minutes before, so death was now as strange. The moth having righted himself now lay most decently and uncomplainingly composed. O yes, he seemed to say, death is stronger than I am.
- 8 posts here • Page 1 of 1
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Collectibles
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Mobs
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Mobs can be automated spawns, like rats and bats, or full-on NPCs complete with conversation menus. Use them to enhance your player experience!
Current Mobs
No mobs have been created yet.
Spawns
Locations where Mobs and Items might appear.
Events
You can schedule events for your players to create notifications and schedule times for everyone to plan around.
The Forge
Use your INK to craft new artifacts in Of Cloudless Climes and Starry Skies. Once created, Items cannot be changed, but they can be bought and sold in the marketplace.
Notable Items
No items have been created yet!
The Market
Buy, sell, and even craft your own items in this universe.
Market DataMarket conditions are Quick Buy (Items Most Recently Listed for Sale) |
Open Stores
View All » Add Character » 4 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
A Garden
I will oft conjure a vision of a day that is no more
Posthumous Remorse
When you go to sleep, my gloomy beauty
Ode to Indolence
My sleep had been embroider'd with dim dreams
Fly Me to the Moon
Let me play among the stars.
Trending
Posthumous Remorse
When you go to sleep, my gloomy beauty
Ode to Indolence
My sleep had been embroider'd with dim dreams
A Garden
I will oft conjure a vision of a day that is no more
Fly Me to the Moon
Let me play among the stars.
Most Followed
Ode to Indolence
My sleep had been embroider'd with dim dreams
A Garden
I will oft conjure a vision of a day that is no more
Posthumous Remorse
When you go to sleep, my gloomy beauty
Fly Me to the Moon
Let me play among the stars.
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Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » Of Cloudless Climes and Starry Skies: Out of Character
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Of Cloudless Climes and Starry Skies
by Achelois on Mon Aug 08, 2016 2:10 am
- 5 Replies
- 777 Views
- Last post by Achelois
on Sun May 14, 2017 2:37 pm
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Of Cloudless Climes and Starry Skies
Most recent OOC posts in Of Cloudless Climes and Starry Skies
Re: Of Cloudless Climes and Starry Skies
- JESSICA HARPER : WEEK 1
OH I HATE THIS PART, PAPER HEART
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[ ♥ ] ; romantic xxxxx[ ❀ ] ; potential match xxxxx[ ☺ ] ; friends xxxxx [ ☠ ] ; enemies xxxxx [ ◑ ] ; neutral
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- 01 MILES RIPELY — [ symbol, symbol ]
"Long or short quote in character about the person."
Write a short description of their relationship as it stands. It does not need to be very long. Nulla commodo neque ut molestie consectetur.
- 02 FIRST LAST — [ symbol, symbol ]
"Long or short quote in character about the person."
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nulla commodo neque ut molestie consectetur. Donec non semper elit. In hac habitasse platea dictumst. Aenean maximus, nulla efficitur imperdiet gravida, ex sem lacinia turpis, quis maximus lacus sapien quis lorem.
Re: Of Cloudless Climes and Starry Skies
Character Sheet!
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- Hello! Here is the CS created for the rp Are You the One. I worked really hard on this so please do not steal any of the coding here and claim as you own. As well, this CS is to only be used for this RP, unless of course someone PMs me asking about it. With that said please follow the directions here so you can correctly fill in this CS!
If you want to see what it would look like filled out here you go.
- 1. Replace the #000000 with your own hex code.
2. If something is capitalized. please capitalize it. If something is written in lower case, follow suit.
3. In the 'more about him/her' section, please erase the pronoun that doesn't pertain to your chara.
As well, in this section there are two numerical values. The first set is for 'other' tid bits of facts. Here you can add misc. facts
about your character such as their favorite color, what actives they like to do, how many animals they have, etc. Oh, and quotes
or aesthetic words. The second list is for memes. Literally. If you think your character #relates to it then put it there. LAST THING
if your lines go on to long it won't break the code (I think) but to be sure please break up your lines like this if they get too long.
4. The images you need to replace are http://placehold.it/250x300 & http://placehold.it/225/
ctrl + f those links to find them. DO NOT MESS WITH ANY OF THE OTHER PLACEHOLD.IT images. PLEASE.
5. If your username is too long, just decrease the size of the 'username' portion to 200.
6. Add more -'s to the r [ right] tab if your text overflows.
7. If you need ANY help, please PM me. I'm more than willing to help you.
Of Cloudless Climes and Starry Skies
━━━━ -Hello!
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- You can post here if you would like to say hello or some variation of it. I don't mind and it would be nice to talk to people I haven't met. Any attempt to tell me how horrible I am for making a storage RP will be promptly dismissed.