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And That's a Wrap
Sun May 30, 2010 12:18 am by Kami
This website is now officially closed. All topics must be finished, and all character must register on the New Website All ranking exams will be finished and ranked by a seperate proctor, and all money will be reset to $200 for everyone in order to make way for the new currency system, coming soon.

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Your Site-Moving Questions, Answered~!
Wed May 26, 2010 3:12 pm by Kami
We've been getting a good amount of questions regarding the move and the time skip that the move will created for all characters. So here are a few general questions, along with their answers, and of course feel free to post any more concerns you have here.

Q: What abilities or weapons will we be able to add or expand on?
A: Not a whole lot, honestly. I'd say a few improvements on what you already have, but not by a lot, as well as maybe one or two new techniques. Let's not do a major overhaul, because that would then disrupt your rank, which will not change in the move. As for weapons, …

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 The shortest inspiration

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Linnea Redhunt
Page of the Sunlit Kingdom
Page of the Sunlit Kingdom

Posts : 202
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Join date : 2009-09-21
Nation : Sunlit Kingdom
Guild : The Academy

PostSubject: The shortest inspiration   Fri Oct 02, 2009 11:38 am

This was inspired by my English teacher while he was hunched over our current reading of "Coming Through Slaughter". Just that split second really inspired me, so I began to write this almost immediately. Tell me what you think.

He was once handsome in his youth. A full set of mouse brown hair, deep dark set eyes above a wide smirk of a mouth. Hairs on his face often cut skillfully with a straight razor, smelling of peppermint aftershave every morning and indulging in the pleasures of wine, women, and-- of course-- great literature.

But he sat instead at the dingy table laden with dirty silverware and this morning's porridge. The dark room had only one light, a lamp light in fact, that illuminated his stark face. It bent over the yellowed pages in his hands, which steadied against the table, weak and wrinkled. His beard had began to grow long again and was beginning to turn a tinge of gray; his hair balded at the top still clung to the hair color. He found his back was beginning to fail him, so he sat hunched like a fairytale witch. His cheeks sagged, and his beady eyes looked coldly, but intrigued, at the black print before him. His sight transfixed.

And that was what became his love. Despite all the women he floundered with day and night many years ago, downing bottles of red wine and vodka, the liquor he loved best was the letters his eyes drunk in every night. His lust for literature grew to an undying passion and fire and, eventually, she became his wife.

Behind him in the shadowed room, one could barely make out bookshelves beside a frame of a doorway. Beyond that doorway, if one were to walk in, they would be in a library...or rather his bedroom. The bed was minuscule compared to the towering oak shelves; A pile of one he was to read again lay on the left side and another pile, full of books that were so worn, the pages were beginning to slide away from the binding. These were his favorites. He once fancied to become a book binder.

And so he sat, as usual under his lamp light, his body failing. With difficulty, he looked over the letters, not sure whether or not the word was 'severe' or 'sever' or perhaps even 'severer'. It had been nights like this, where his love, his wife, was defeated him. Night after night, he stared in vain and sometimes he mouthed the words like a schoolboy.


Not done yet, I'm going to write the rest after I get home from school. ^^
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