December 17, 2018, 7:12 am

Recent Posts

Recent Posts

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The Obligatory Introduction Forum / Welcome Tessaiams!
« Last post by Valis on 12/04/2018 12:23 »
Welcome to Andromorphia!

There's not a lot going on these days (in the darkness of our souls) but maybe you can change that.

Let us know a little about you, if you are willing. Either way, welcome!

Well, I've been absent for quite some time. I blame Warframe. Seriously.

So how are you doing these days?
Should remember to check the home page from time to time. Alas...

Thanks for the "Welcome back"! It's truly appreciated. That being said, however, I'm also still lurking about these days - wondering if I should jump back onto the RPing bandwagon or not, you know?

Generalities, Rants and other Bugga-Boo / Happy Ada Lovelace Day!
« Last post by Valis on 10/09/2018 16:49 »

Quote from: HistoryExtra Website
Ada Lovelace: a visionary of computing

Born in the early 19th century, Ada Lovelace had a fascination with science and mathematics that defied the expectations of her class and gender at the time. After being introduced at the age of 17 to inventor Charles Babbage, her work ensured she would become one of the most important figures in the early history of the computer. Here, biographer James Essinger explores Ada Lovelace's life and legacy...

Well, damn. I'll have to think of something. I don't suppose that you have much interest in sci-fi-fantasy-horrorish sort of RPs? I'm currently writing "The Damning of Elsinore" without expecting anyone at all to get involved. (Less of an RP - More of a horror/fantasy story if you know what I mean.)

But I do have a bit of an itch for some claustrophobic science fiction horrorishness. Leaning toward a Cyberpunk-ish environment or world. Would I be wasting my time crafting such an RP?
hehe >.< Let me know... I'm down to play any genre right now.
In the Shadow of the Soul / The Damning of Elsinore
« Last post by Elsinore on 10/06/2018 19:11 »

    Pavel’s face was silhouetted before a small vertical window of reinforced glass. He slumped on the top bunk of his cell with his legs hung over the side. Tired and spent after simpering for what seemed like hours, his demeanor was quiet with stunned resignation. He was staring at the floor when the psychiatrist entered his cell.

    “Pavel, do you know why you are here,” she asked evenly.

    He glanced at her with distrust, and then looked away.

    “I believe in signs. There are signs all around us, and I’m not talking about those billboards on the highway. I’m talking about those whispers in the dark; the falling star that turns sideways and hits the ground without a sound; the sudden smell of perfume out of nowhere; that weird, momentary claustrophobia in one ear; the creepy feeling like someone is watching - with malignant intent. The kind of signs that people tell you are your imagination, superstition, natural events or evidence of the onset of mental illness. There’s always an explanation, they say. It’s your imagination, they say. And there’s the inevitable gas-lighting. You must be crazy. We’re only trying to help you face reality and be happy and healthy, they say.

    Bullshit. They don’t believe because they don’t know. Ignorance is bliss until something jumps out of the darkness and sucks your blood dry or puts thoughts in your head - illusions that make you kill someone. Or make you see things that aren’t there just before you walk off a cliff.

    I’m not crazy. I’m telling you, the signs are all around you. They are everywhere. Real dangers lurking in the dark and in the pit of your soul. I know. Believe me, I know.”

    He turned his head and looked at her - his eyes like dim lights in the dark.

    “I’m here because you think I’m crazy, and all you want to do is help me face reality and be happy and healthy.”

    Looking back at the window, he sighed heavily.

    “There is nothing happy or healthy about reality. You can’t help me. And these bars and heavy doors may as well be straws and pieces of tissue paper. She will come. We are nothing but cattle, play things - the toys of the demons who own the world.”

    Pavel dropped to his feet and stood facing the window. He began trembling, then shook from head to toe. His body lifted an inch from the floor.

    “She comes! My tormentor!” He screamed.

    The air darkened around him and shimmered with a purple light. Black hands with silver nails reached out from nowhere, grabbed him by his shoulders and yanked him out of existence. The psychiatrist stumbled back against the wall - incredulous and in all-consuming shock. A moment later, she too was snatched from the cell. All that remained were shadows and the faint ticking of a clock.
Generalities, Rants and other Bugga-Boo / The Fuckening
« Last post by Valis on 10/06/2018 14:51 »
Well I'll be damned. It's silverrealm! How ya doin'?

Oh, and yeah. The fuckening is quickening, it would seem.
Hey, Ema!

I'm in a bit of a dry season, but you never know. I'm thinking I may get back on the... uh... horse again. : )
Awe spanks! I'm still lurking around, deciding whom to let out to play.
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