Roleplay

((Hope y'all don't mind me stepping in to drop my own two cents in. Just a quick note to LiraRaximir. "Neko," being the Japanese word for cat, refers specifically to cat boys or girls. Usually humans with animalistic ears, tails, or wings are pretty much just that: Humans with tails, wings or animal ears. The biggest difference is the skin, though. If it's covered in fur or scales, then it'd be an anthro, but if it's all smooth and bare, then it isn't.)) Name: Silva Avlis Dragon type: Mirror Abilities: Blood manipulation. Can form it into weapons and projectiles. Cannot manipulate blood still encased in flesh however. Appearance: Pastel orange and yellow green scales would normally give him a somewhat drab appearance, but are contrasted by rosey colored wings, making him appear akin to a cherry tree in full spring time bloom. In his anthropomorphic form, the bandages around his neck extend around his entire torso, leaning a teasing view of a silhouette of wiry muscles, while the sash around his waste and sandwaste socks appear to be all he wears to cover his lower half. He has multiple battle scars on his body that he seems to wear with a sense of pride. [img]http://flightrising.com/render/350/57407_350.png[/img] Nobility: Riding off the back of a fairly large inheritance, Silva lives mostly as a party going playboy and flirt who is quick to show off in front of a crowd, and has something of a temper to him. Anthro or feral preference: Swaps between on a whim. Usually in anthro form when using his ability, and feral form when fighting physically. Light spilled into the night, warm and yellowish gold, flitting over cobblestones and casting shadows that were darker than the evening around them, if only by comparison. It was accompanied by raucous laughter and the chime of glass against glass as another round of drinks was passed along. A form blocked out the light, casting a long shadow into the street that marked out his eventual path, a self fulfilling prophecy as his foot fell into the exact spot predicted by the shade. The figure stalked out of the pub, shouting behind itself and closing the door behind it, before turning into the cool, night air and sucking in a deep, appreciative breath. After but a moment's speculative pause, the figure set off once more at a sauntering pace, quietly humming a tune to itself. Occasionally a word or two would slip out, and it became apparent to anyone with ears that the figure was singing a particularly vulgar drinking song with lyrics that mentioned bedding a female on top of piles of gold and silver. Upon reaching the end of a verse, the figure stopped, looking down as it hummed a note over again, trying to recall the next part, but to no avail. Shrugging, it let out a massive yawn and stretched a large pair of wings behind it, beaded bangles and strings shaking in the slight breeze, making small snicks of noise as they knocked against each other and the bony skulls strapped the figures wings. Even in the moonlight bleaching all color from the world it was apparent that the wings were a striking shade of pale pink, and a source of pride for their owner. The mirror shook them out once more, letting the bangles and bobbles settle into their usual, comfortable positions, and was about to set off once more when there was a squeak of noise. Instantly the figure froze in its tracks, eyes alert, banishing all sleep that might have resided in them before. It was about to call out, when another voice did exactly that, a somewhat young, feminine voice. Curiosity getting the better of it, the mirror slipped to the corner of the building he stood next to and peeking into the square beyond, easily shifting to a two legged form as it did, and tucking its wings closer into its body. So late to be sneaking about like this. Who knew what anyone could be up to? ((Sorry if this is a tad long. I'm a writer by trade, and it's hard to stem the flow once I get started.))

(@ArcusofBrambles Ah yes, apologies. I'm working 10hour days and am often tire, so my mind was clouded on how to explain. But thank you muchly for clearing that bit up.~ And long posts are good. :) I am also a writer, so I can go on for hours about a character or their plot/background.)

(Also, @Loveless987 You don't have to ping us each time you post. XD We get notifications that someone has replied, no worries though. Just wanted to remind you on that.~)

She heard the chirp again and put her hands on her hips, watching as she spots the youngling's paw dart out and disappear again. Her tail flicks as she could hear others on the sound waves in the surrounding area, but she says nothing and takes a step forward before crouching down and digging through her messenger bag. "If you're hungry, I have food to spare." She says, unwrapping it and setting it on the wrapper on the ground. There was no way that she would harm a hatchling, not even in the throes of her job.

She glances around, making sure that her client hadn't decided to show up at a last moments notice. She didn't want to have to defend herself or use any form of violence in front of a hatchling, it would leave mental scarring. She stays crouched, pulling back her hood with a sigh, wondering who she had seen in the sounds. Being blind, she had to use something to be able to see, and this was how she adapted long ago. Each scar under her eyes were due to a trade off gone wrong and it had been years since then.

( @LiraRaximir generally like to be early to the party, but mind if I jump in? XD) Name: Icon Dragon type: Wildclaw Abilities: Can't exactly turn invisible, but is stealthy enough to virtually disappear in the right environment. Extremely soft footed and capable of getting very close to others without them knowing. Appearance: [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=17552] [img]http://flightrising.com/render/350/17552_350.png[/img][/url] A middleaged, average-height woman with ragged, straw like black hair. Usually dressed in light, flexible clothing that can be cheaply made or acquired. She has a hideous disfigurement on the left side of her face, usually covered by a white moon-shaped mask. Left eye is dark and can see only shadows, right eye is arcane-dragon purple. Overall appearance suggests substance abuse and a difficult life spent constantly on the move. Nobility: Rogue. A spy and seller of information, also willing to be hired out as a mercenary for the right price. Anthro or feral preference: None ________ The bolting form of a wildclaw dragoness sped through the darkened city streets, ever careful not to splash standing puddles of water loudly enough to draw attention. Icon turned her head from side to side often, trying to make sure no one was on her trail and getting a better picture of the world around her. After having raced through a few blocks and sure she was still alone, she slowed down to a jogging pace and then to a steady walk, yet still weary as ever of her surroundings. She was aware that her rep sheet was not unknown in this area, and that any odd dragon could be seeking her assistance or her bounty. The streets seemed oddly deserted, and Icon could have heard the tap of a claw from a mile away. Perhaps that was to her advantage. Then, where there was only the sound of her own breathing and footsteps, another became audible. It sounded like soft whispering and the chirping of a young hatchling. She may have been a reckless and wild dragon, but she had also been a mother once, and the sound was more then enough to pique her attention. Slowing turning from side to side, she gradually traced the sound to a dark alley, where the forms of a small group of dragons too shape; two of them where indeed rather young. Icon crouched down in the shadow of the building to observe the strangers; if not friends, then hopefully they where not enemies.

(@Loveless987 It's okay, just remember that ^-^)

(@Lesley It looks fine, all you need to do is introduce her into the scene with a little bit of background information. It can be in each/different posts, but as long as it's there.)

( @LiraRaximir - I'd also like to join, if you are still accepting?) (EDIT: My post ate some of the words! D: ) Name: Pestilence Dragon type: Mirror Abilities (no two the same): Her bite can easily infect prey with, what she refers to as "Plague". It is quick, painful infection that blackens the bite wound, usually immobilizing her prey in agony. Appearance: [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=94073] [img]http://flightrising.com/render/350/94073_350.png[/img] [/url] (Anthro) Pestilence is a very thin, pale, and frail looking female. She is fairly short, standing about 5'1. Though she looks thin, she is quite strong. She retains her horns in her anthro form, but they are slightly smaller in size to balance out with her head. Her mouth appears to be slightly cut in a smile, and her lips are almost charred-black. She wears slightly baggy black jeans and a ragged slate-gray shirt. Her eyes remain bright red, and pupil-less. Her tail also remains, and her legs are also in their feral form. Pestilence's wings remain as well, but they are more bony and tattered than they are in her feral form. Her fangs remain, and the inside of her mouth is black. Her claws remain on both hands and feet. Nobility: Rogue; she tends to avoid becoming involved with other species, as she is often hostile and aggressive. Anthro or feral preference: Prefers feral, but may go into anthro for hiding.

[quote name="LiraRaximir" date="2013-07-02 18:31:39" url="main.php?p=mb&board=rp&page=2&id=133804#261975"](@Lesley It looks fine, all you need to do is introduce her into the scene with a little bit of background information. It can be in each/different posts, but as long as it's there.)[/quote] (Yeah sorry about that it's there in her intro post now.)

( @Staggare Yeah, I was going to say something about that before. I don't always get alerts for topics I'm subscribed to either, so pinging just works better sometimes. Either that or I just have to pay attention constantly, not so easy while I'm doing college work.)

From her place in the shadows, Icon watched the hatchling with one fixated, curious eye. Tundras. A family of them made their home in her clan, and she couldn't help but regard them as mostly aggravating and confusing creatures. Despite her mixed feelings, it was the hatchling's presence that had originally drawn her in, and she was still apt to remain. She shifted slightly in her position, trying to be no more then a wavering thread of light in the darkness.

What curious circumstances had brought this group of dragons together? This she must know. Slowly she slipped out of her hiding place into a still obscure but slightly more precarious location. Experience told her never to give her position away all at once, and Icon was not yet sure if she should reveal herself to these dragons at all.