Username:
Mysticbreez
Favorite type of RP:
Aha~ it varies. Alot. Sometimes I feel like horsies, sometimes I feel like warriors, sometimes I feel like wolves and sometimes I feel like humans. Sometimes I feel like blowing stuff up and sometimes I feel like being all lovey-dovey and romance-y. Generally though I do anything as long as it doesn't concern a fandom I don't know of xD
Sample of writing:
Letsee here~
How much I usually write:
Wrinkling her nose as well, Areya moved to cover her mouth with her sleeve. She really hated the smell of alcohol. Really. Hated it. "... sometimes, though an invasion can be a blessing to some... part elf?" As in, an Ilithiiri and a Razziek? She'd heard that it was possible before, but she'd never met one, let alone talked to one. Huh, so that might explain why he was pale, at least compared to other Ilithiiri, why his hair was red instead of the usual white and why he didn't seem to mind the light that much. Of course, she was still somewhat skeptical, but she had to at least give him a chance, right?
"Yes, mage supplies. Here. Though I think she wanted to just get away from the Idhrenion castle for a bit and get some fresh air, and this happened to be the best place to go since others won't shout at us for slacking off." Really, she understood how Kisa felt. Most of the time Areya wished she was somewhere else, too, though that might be because she was a servant and a servant's job was never easy. She didn't even get paid or anything, yeesh. But at least she had food and a place to sleep, right...? Though the food may as well be void since she barely ate because of her aversion to others.
"#You're asking me if I know L--Ohtar." She looked at him as if he was crazy. Now why wouldn't she know him? She worked in the same place he lived, after all--the Idhrenion castle.
... wait a second...
Insert blink blinking here. "Right, you don't know I live in the Idhrenion castle. Of course I know where he is~ ... some of the time anyways, he's been sort of wander-y lately so he might be there or he might be not, though he'll always return eventually. What do you want with Lord Suia--um, Ohtar, anyways?" Yesterday he had told her to call him that instead of Lord Suiadan, and, since he'd found her and helped her find her way home, Areya thought she should at least do him this little favour and call him what he wanted her to call him, even around other people.
-Confusing, but it's taken from the middle of a roleplay, so xD-
Another one, from the same site, showing how much I can write when I feel up to it:
Ilithiiri and Quendi should really fight less often. Really.
At least, fight less around Sadriel. What, you thought Areya actually cared about achieving peace between the two races? Psh, as if she'd ever care about that. No, what she did care about was the mess it made. Now, usually Areya didn't really care if there were a few dead bodies and blood and guts all over the place. However, those messes needed to be cleaned up, especially when said mess was in Sadriel. And who was charged with this annoying duty?
The palace servants, of course.
It just so happened that Areya was one of the servants who had to now clean up someone else's mess. And, as everyone probably now knew, she hated it when she had to suffer because of something someone else did. Or, in this case, a lot of someone elses.
Breathing through the paper-like mask she was forced to wear, Areya ripped another... something, off of a branch of the tree she was in and threw it towards the ground. It didn't feel heavy enough to be a body, so it must be something else. An organ? An arm? A head? Ah~ something or another. Probably a random body part of an Ilithiiri since she caught sight of some dark dark skin. She couldn't really tell, though; the goggles she was currently (forcibly) wearing were splattered with crimson blood. And it wasn't even fresh, dammit. Dry blood didn't smell as good as fresh blood. Ah well; the smell still calmed her, otherwise she would be ballistic with anger right now. In fact, she was barely containing herself as it was.
Shifting around in the heavy, neon green raincoat thing she was forced to wear (seriously, how can anyone move in these things?), Areya reached for another thing on another branch, ripped it off while breaking a few twigs and threw it forcibly onto the ground, listening with satisfaction as a loud, audible smack rang through the air. It was a heart this time; she could tell by the feel and the size of it. Now, the only question was whether it belonged to an Ilithiiri or a Quendi...
Augh, if people would just stop blowing each other up and spraying their blood and guts and dead bodies onto trees then it would make her job so much easier. Ah; but at least she wasn't stuck comforting the parents/siblings/relatives of those who've just died in the rather intense Ilithiiri raid they'd just received. Oh no, imagine that~~your son, who's part of the military, died on his first raid! Oh no! Because obviously someone charged with the responsibility of guarding Sadriel would never die, nope, especially if this was his first raid. Ugh. People these days.
Standing up on her branch, Areya reached for another body that was higher up on the tree. It was pretty high for her, causing her to have to stand on her toes in order to reach it. After all, she'd finished with all the surrounding body parts; time to move. This was a pretty big tree, after all; not as big as Sadriel of course, since she was cleaning up one of the trees around Sadriel, but it was still pretty big. And Areya was pretty small. And the body was pretty high. Which, to any normal person, obviously meant that someone else should clean it up, but no; Areya was a stubborn person, and it would be such a huge blow to her pride if someone else took over her task for her. And that was probably why all of the other palace servants just watched this sure recipe for disaster instead of trying to help.
And a disaster it was, for the branches also happened to be slick with blood. Being coated with dead body parts tended to do that to a tree, yeah. The strong wind probably wasn't helping, either. And that was how Areya found herself reaching for a dead Ilithiiri one second and then plummeting towards the ground the next.
... wait. The ground. It was currently covered in dead bodies. DAMMITDAMMITDAMMITDAMMITDAMMIT.
Twisting around in mid-air, Areya attempted to break her fall but to no avail. She wasn't a mage, after all; she couldn't mess around with magic and use it to slow herself down or something. Though she swore she slowed down a little, teeny tiny bit just then...
WHUMP.
"DAMMIT! Why must trees hate me?!"
Now she'd have to sort it into two piles of Ilithiiri and Quendi parts since they were burnt seperately or something. It was a general, unwritten rule that the first person who fell out of the tree would be the one who'd sort everything. And it just happened that said person was her. Scowling, she crawled out of the heavy protective jacket thing and tossed it to the side. It would just get in her way; besides, if she wasn't wearing it then maybe she wouldn't have fallen out of the tree, either. Speaking of which, the googles could go too; why was there so much protective gear for the servants, anyways? They were more like objects than anything; King Daeron could easily replace them, right? [color=B40404]But he's probably too nice to not care about us,[/color] Areya thought with a mental sigh before plopping down and not-so-gently seperating the one pile of flesh into two piles of Ilithiiri and Quendi flesh.
Falling into a pile of dead bodies wasn't really fun, yeah. But then again that might be just her.
-Tell me if there's anything I missed; I'm allowed to swear on that site, so ._.;-
Any semi-lit/lit RPs you have:
Don't have any, but I'm part of some, but that's probably not what you want xD And sorry if my grammar's bad; I'm sick and hungry and too lazy to get food at the moment ^^;