#bacras things

Parcea: > It was one hell of a trip, from the savannah to the grub caverns. Your legs, wrapped in their lovely black leggings and tucked into your dark mary janes, had met some mud on the way here. You didn't wear your usual skirt and shirt to this sort of event, you wore a black cloak that settled on your shoulders and tickled your ankles as you made your way down in the cave. You held a jar of lightning bugs to illuminate your path, your sword bouncing against your hip. No, underneath the cloak- your flat chest was almost bear to the damp air of the cavern, half-covered by a ripped up excuse for a shirt. No wonder you were keeping it covered with your cloak! Your hair, as long as it was, was braided thickly, and bouncing against your rear. The grub. You had an idea of the pitiful creature already, slightly sick and sneezing- the problem? Finding it.22:40:51

Bacras: > You're awfully busy, lord. Too many grubs had taken ill of late, and you were tasked to take care of almost all of them. You were tired already, shirt stained from cleaning up the failed subjects of the trials, and your jeans ever so slightly torn at the knees. Your hair, longer than you normally keep it, is swept back and behind your ears, putting your single intact horn on display. Your eyes, naturally odd, pick up the dull light in the caverns as you carry one particularly sick grub in your arms, coaxing it to feel better as you walk in circles.

Parcea: c=D===> G__d evening.

Bacras: What the hell.

Parcea: > You brush back a lock of hair, approaching the jadeblood quietly. Damn- of course, something had to be in your way. Of course.

Bacras: > Swivel to face the intruder.

Bacras: Y(|)u're n(|)t jade.

Parcea: c=D===> N_, sir.

Parcea: > You really hope it's a sir. Oh well!

Bacras: > Well, neither are you.

Parcea: c=D===> I've c_me f_r the grub.

Bacras: What are y(|)u d(|)ing here?? Y(|)u aren't all(|)wed d(|)wn here.

Bacras: N(|).

Bacras: The grub remains here.

Parcea: c=D===> It's dying.

Bacras: I d(|)n't kn(|)w what it is with y(|)u maniacs- Y(|)u can't have (|)ur grubs simply due t(|) maln(|)urishment.

Parcea: c=D===> Excuse me?

Parcea: > You aren't a maniac, the sky told you to do it.

Parcea: c=D===> I have n_ plans t_ eat it.

Bacras: Then what is y(|)ur business here?

Parcea: c=D===> Fate, sir.

Bacras: > Sigh. Another one of THESE.

Bacras: What has fate f(|)rt(|)ld y(|)u, huh?

Bacras: > Hold the grub a bit closer to yourself, angling away from the stranger.

Parcea: c=D===> Well?

Parcea: > You sigh, pinching your nose.

Parcea: c=D===> The grub had dev_ured r_tting matter fr_m a dead grub in the trails, and the infecti_n the dev_ured grub had was transferred _ver.

Parcea: c=D===> Y_u sh_uld wash y_ur hands, Jadebl__d.

Bacras: I will n(|)t give up the life (|)f s(|)me grub because a lunatic says s(|).

Parcea: > You slap a gloved hand onto your sword.

Parcea: c=D===> It's g_ing t_ die anyway.

Bacras: Then let it g(|) naturally, y(|)u freak.

Parcea: > Just gonna draw ur sword

Parcea: c=D===> Hand it _ver.

Bacras: I'm sw(|)rn n(|)t t(|) let these grubs c(|)me t(|) harm, especially n(|)t by s(|)me stranger.

Parcea: c=D===> I'm n_ stranger, n_t t_ here.

Parcea: c=D===> S_me jadebl__ds may kn_w me by name, _r by scarring.

Parcea: c=D===> Release the grub, _r taste my blade. Simple.

Bacras: I will n(|)t release this grub.

Parcea: > Sigh.

Parcea: c=D===> Alright.

Parcea: c=D===> I will f_rce y_ur hand, then.

Bacras: > Stare this stranger down, hand reaching for the small knife you keep on person at all times.

Parcea: > You brace yourself, sword moving from your side to your midsection all of a sudden, as you lash forward towards his stomach.

Bacras: > Do your best to dodge out of the way, though the sword knicks your side, drawing blood painfully.

Bacras: Fuck.

Bacras: > Speed yourself up a bit rushing back into the caverns, grub in one arm.

Parcea: c=D===> Halt!

Parcea: > You gather your bloodied sword back to your side, running after him in galloping strides.

Bacras: Fuck (|)ff!!

Parcea: > Maybe if you just sort've

Parcea: > Throw your sword at him, aiming for his leg?

Parcea: > Yeah, let's do that.

Parcea: > You swallow in the moist air, and launch your sword at his pumping legs.

Bacras: > Shit. The flying sword plunges through your pant leg and into part of your leg, pinning you in place.

Parcea: > You hardly feel so much as a glimmer towards your strike, marching forward to rip the metal out of his leg.

Bacras: Augh...

Bacras: Why are y(|)u s(|) persistent why d(|) y(|)u need this??

Parcea: c=D===> It's it's time.

Parcea: c=D===> Hand me the grub.

Bacras: > The wound has caused you to crumple to the ground. You hug the grub tight to yourself.

Bacras: N(|).

Parcea: > You lift up your foot, and place it onto his back.

Bacras: Just. G(|).

Bacras: I WILL pr(|)tect this grub t(|) my last breath.

Parcea: > Sigh.

Parcea: > You wipe some soil from your face, and shrug.

Parcea: c=D===> Fine, then.

Parcea: > You wrap the handle in your two fists, gazing over his back to a place to stab.

Bacras: > Brace your body, praying to the Mother Grub for safety and health.

Parcea: > Oh, you must be in a bitchy mood. You stab just to the side of his collarbone, not quite his heart.

Parcea: > Did you plan to watch him bleed out? It was possible.

Bacras: > A gasp, a sharp pain, and you crumple.

Parcea: c=D===> Fate is inescapable, Bacras Nguyen.

Bacras: H(|)w did y(|)u...

Bacras: > Really crumple this time, bleeding heavily from the wounds you've sustained. The grub in your arms squirms and wriggles away.

Parcea: > You pluck the squishy grub from the floor, pressing your thick, gloved hand in front of it's mouth.

Parcea: > You hold it shut, not minding at all as it'd begin to wither and shake..and then go still.

Bacras: > Turning, desperately, you reach out again in a futile attempt to save the grub.

Parcea: c=D===> Y_ur dedicati_n t_ y_ur line _f w_rk is admirable.

Parcea: > You place the still body beside the dying jadey, before starting to turn around to leave.

Bacras: > You make an attempt to speak before spitting blood and collapsing. Your life is starting to dim, as your skin begins to change hue.

Parcea: > You're going up the path in which you came, cleaning your blade in the process.

Bacras: > Something primal snaps inside your brain. Your body, almost running on auto-pilot stands up. It brushes itself off despite mortal wounds.

Bacras: > The surrounding area is suddenly bombarded by a gutteral hiss that fills the air.

Parcea: c=D===> ...

Parcea: > You turn your head towards the source of the noise, frowning thoughtfully.

Bacras: > You come tearing down the tunnel, toward your aggressor in a furious stupor.

Parcea: > You wait till you're almost breast-to-breast with the drinker, before launching yourself sideways to avoid a fangy tackle.

Bacras: > You roar in fury, still unrecovered. It's bizarre, watching your body act so beast-like without your control. It's like watching a movie broadcast through your eyes.

Parcea: > You run back towards the corpse of the grub, picking it up.

Bacras: d(|)n't.

Bacras: d(|)n't t(|)uch them.

Parcea: > You rip your nails into it's hide, and peel the skin back. A colorful trail of bronze coats your fingers, releasing the smell of blood into the air.

Bacras: n(|).

Bacras: > You rush forward, slowly regaining use of your faculties.

Parcea: > You throw the ball of meat and blood right at the bloodsucker, like some sort of football.

Bacras: > You duck just out of the way, you've enough blood on you.

Bacras: > You let out a bloodcurdling screech that barely translated to "LEAVE".

Parcea: c=D===> Yes, I am w_rking _n it.

Parcea: > You're hoping it's got enough bloodlust kicked up to eat the dead baby.

Bacras: > How about something a bit fresher? Like prey right ahead of you.

Parcea: > You brace yourself, sword braced against your stomach.

Bacras: Leave, n(|)w.

Bacras: Or I start biting.

Parcea: c=D===> Then m_ve _ut _f my pathway, s_ I can.

Bacras: > Shuffle slightly to the left, snarling.

Parcea: > You sigh, before marching forward. Sword always in hand.

Bacras: Leave and never return.

Bacras: > Grip their arm.

Bacras: Or y(|)u l(|)se y(|)ur life.

Parcea: c=D===> D_ y_u like having a hand, sir?

Bacras: D(|) y(|)u enj(|)y the pr(|)spect (|)f impending death?

Parcea: c=D===> ..

Parcea: c=D===> I c_uld ask y_u the same thing.

Bacras: > Smile.

Parcea: > You make a move to twist your arm out of his grasp, to continue walking up.

Bacras: I guess I answered that by getting back up, hm?

Bacras: Y(|)u c(|)me back again and I will see t(|) it y(|)u never lay a hand (|)n anything again.

Parcea: > How cute.

Parcea: > You don't even sneer nor chuckle, but continue on walking. Void.

fayter actually has half decent fashion sense but she wears sweaters 99% of the time to avoid having to think about those kind of decisions

bacras WILL become a rainbowdrinker inevitably because he has reached a level high enough in the animat’ri for someone to be waiting to usher him into the undead life

oh boy here we go

jassins primary weapon is a spear, though he has fiddled around with a harpoon gun in the past, and quite liked its effiency

jassin also seems to be still growing in size, even at his age and height.

jassin is the most stubborn stupid fucker ever and has a total fetish for limebloods. he honestly wont show any affection towards you unless you fall under the header of limeblooded, or perhaps mutant.

jassin is trying to escape the stereotyping of indigos as subjuggulators and has great disdain towards them, should they fall under the “stupid, always drunk” category. otherwise he may actually try to engage them in argument as opposed to just frowning from afar

micane only speaks through his helmet, due to his damaged vocal chords and his stubborn refusal to have surgery

wihout his helmet, micane only speaks in growls and strange kind of gurgling sounds that pass as laughter

micane has killed heirs, heiresses, and the like in the past. hes also been involved in several fired mutant killings, including the one issued agaisnt kozmar

bacras’ eyes are hypersensitive to light, so he often wears sunglasses when venturing out of the caverns

bacras is also in the process of growing his hair out, so he can have a little ponytail again like he did in his youth

Height Chart!!