#wofrp

Hello! Kulpit here, I've been quiet for a while, but this post is simple, I'm starting a roleplay! To call it a wings of fire roleplay would be a bit of a stretch, as it is not entirely wings of fire! It features a unique cast of fantribes, on a new island nation called Plodia! And I hope you are all excited to apply! While things are still being worked out with everyone's characters, I have an open Discord to speak about it, practice roleplaying, and just be buddies together!

of course as with all roleplays, there must be rules you need to understand before joining:

Rule 1: No NSFW, this means no sexual content, no excessive gore, and no fetish things

Rule 2: no bullying, please be respectful to everybody, or I will have to kick you, and I would very much not like to do that

Rule 3: no cursing, due to the number of young peoples in the wof fandom, i would like to keep things at least a little tame in the cursing category

Rule 4: this roleplay is 13+ only, so if you are under 13, and lie to get in, I expect you don't complain, as I am very clearly stating only those thirteen and older are meant to be allowed

Rule 5: No godmode, we will have a luck-based system for situations of combat, so no making your character OP

Rule 6: Please, come to me if you have issues, and I will try to resolve things as best I can!

Backstory: Born in nightwing village, Quiz was often viewed as strange by his fellow nights, due to his odd behavior and lack of speech, but despite this he remains a cheerful and friendly dragon!

//Exile Island//

“It is said, in stories of stories, that there is a boy living alone on the sea... slowly wasting away to nothing...”

“On exile for a crime he never meant to commit.”

The sun he'd woken up to this morning was not filtered through a sandstorm, but lording itself over sparse clouds. The pills he took this morning were not to combat malaria on a trek through unnamed jungles, but to keep his knees in working order. He'd not climbed over half a mountain range to find a specimen, but over his belongings still packed in boxes to find something to eat breakfast out of. He had eventually given up and eaten cereal directly out of its colorfully adorned box while thoughtfully considering the meager view from his new apartment's small window.

He stared himself down whilst brushing the night's turmoil from his curtains of long black hair. He tried to erase the small, doubtful scowl. The logistics department took up a greater percentage of his brain than most other things people found important. His logistics department told him retiring was the best thing for his health and for his future. His logistics reasoned he should enjoy his accumulated fortune while he can. His heart wasn't feeling it. His spirit wondered if it wasn't perfectly acceptable to explore until he's nothing but a ghost. 

Orochimaru, however, rarely listened to things like his heart and his spirit, especially over his logistics department.

He'd strode down the stairwell and into the streets of Kazoku with the well-rehearsed confidence of one owning all he explored. His eyes alert, his shoulders back, his posture tall, his slender hands in the pockets of his black coat that billowed out behind him as he steps continued to briskly assault the cobblestones. The library was well within walking distance.

  The library. Just the thought of any library was enough to make him smile. The town's previous head librarian had retired from her position (retiring from retiring? Imagine!) leaving a nice new niche for him to slip into. Now that it was his library he was looking forward to making adjustments. It was a modest enough dwelling, dusty, dim and unassuming. That would not do at all.

As much as he like to ignore the fact, libraries were becoming less and less important in this day and age. A library had to be welcoming. A library had to be grandiose. There was potential in the building to become his. As with anything that had potential, there was absolutely never any excuse for it not to reach it in full.