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My blog for Psyren Role Playing, and anything else. All art is not mine, unless stated otherwise.

[psyren-archer-blog]

On to World History, I suppose.

[psyren-archer-blog]

"Seeking to make a new code of law to live by, I stumbled across a problem.

I abhorred myself, I was a terrible monster when left with my own thoughts,

one which would send a thousand, no, a million people to their deaths without

a moments thought, but unable, or unwilling to believe that I would be

among them. So I sat here typed up a short paragraph, hitting enter in between

each line and wondered what I would do now."

[huggingthehorse-blog]

[psyren-archer-blog]

First two paragraphs of a story?

A lone scarecrow patrols a long forgotten border. The dilapidated man of hay, with its moth eaten hat, bullet hole ridden jacket and moldy grass, hops up and down the remnants of a broken road, in a never ending cycle of ten hops South by South-east, turn around, and take another ten hops North by North-west. Every once in a while, out of habit, it turns to look down the road, across the wide plains to the South, which are dotted by ruins of war torn villages it was built and enchanted to defend centuries ago. It shuns the road to the North, most likely the hills and distant mountains remind it of whatever enemy came down from those foothills to fight and pillage the agricultural communities that it once called home.

It isn’t the first miserable, lonely scarecrow I’ve encountered on this journey, ant it most likely won’t be the last. I myself am heading south, although my home is not any of the villages that lie in the mountains. The people in the mountains are pitiful degenerates, only three of the more elderly people I met up there were still literate, and only six of the thirteen tribes still have a regularly used spoken language. One small tribe has even descended into practicing cannibalistic rituals, I nearly literally paid and an arm and a leg making that discovery. Around forty-seven percent of the children are orphans, victims of inter-tribal wars over the few dependable food sources near the peaks. Life as a surveyor isn’t as particularly a glamorous a job as it was originally made out to be.

[yuuichirouhyakuya]

[11:17:52 AM] Matthew ———-: When your followers don’t reblog your posts, don’t sit and wait. Make them reblog your posts! Get mad! I don’t want your damn scrolling, what the hell am I supposed to do with that? Demand to see their managers! Make your followers rue the day they thought they could ignore your blog! Do you know who Lamb Chops is? She’s the blogger who’s gonna burn your house down! With Tumblr posts! She’s gonna get her engineers to invent a combustible Tumblr post that burns your houses down!

SO DONE

[a-grimm-future]

Should I do more of these?

[thisisb-deactivated20241003]

You can tell a lot about a woman’s mood just by her hands. For an example, if she is holding a gun she’s probably angry. 

[saveroomminibar]

‘Revisiting Video Game Symbols’ by David Goh.

[psyren-archer-blog]

Ha ha, Minecraft's got a sense of humor. I ask for some plains, it drops me on a deserted island.

[favourie-blog]

Don’t Forget 3. Oct. 11

[awkwardstandinglewiskennedy]

Airline screwed up, a friend just posted this on Facebook. - Imgur

[forgoodnessjakes-blog]

Good ol’ breakfast before duty!

Huh?

WHAT WAS THAT.

WOAH WHAT 

THE CRAP

WHOOOOOAA CRAP

…

HELLO SECTOR 12 THIS IS SERGEANT BISQUICK WE NEED REINFORCEMENTS WE ARE UNDER ATTACK 

[ksljdfkjsdfkjlsdf-deactivated20]

just a calm day on the front

wait what’s that noise i think its our communication system

THIS IS COMMANDER CAKE DO U COPY

SERGEANT BISQUICK WHAT IS UR POSITION

HOLD UR POSITION MAN WE’RE COMIN FOR U

THIS IS WAR 

[overexposedenjoy]

No you hang up

No you hang up

Hold on im getting another call

PRIVATE LUNA BAR THIS IS COMMANDER CAKE DO YOU COPY

WE ARE AT WAR

Lead us to victory, commander

[illublogs-deactivated20160705]

THIS IS CORPORAL SWISS ROLL, REPORTING IN

I CAN’T HOLD THE ENEMY OFF MUCH LONGER

TELL MY WIFE…

TELL MY WIFE I ALWAYS LOVED HER…

[morgueresident]

THIS IS FIRST LIEUTENANT FRUIT CRISP REPORTING FROM BEHIND ENEMY LINES

IT HAS BEEN 8 DAYS FENDING OFF THE ENEMY AND OUR RATIONS ARE LOW.

HALF MY UNIT HAS BEEN BLOWN OUT, COMMANDER. THE ENEMY IS STRONG.

HOW MANY MORE LIVES MUST BE LOST FOR THIS ACCURSED WAR? WHEN WILL THE DEPRAVITY OF MAN BE SATISFIED?

[madqueensarah]

What the fuck was in that cereal?

[wallacewellsbian]

Courage.

[lewdcakes]

psyren-archer replied to your post: I am back. Please, hold the applause~ 

*Sarcastic applause*

Hope you’re ready to die, punk.

[psyren-archer-blog]

Sorry I'm late, but bring it.

[psyren-archer-blog]

Reply #1

[agaricandmoss]

Catching his fist, I yawn and take off my goggles, they’ll just slow me down. “You’re average height. I’m just freakishly tall. (6’2”).” My eyes sting, and as always I can’t see a thing. Blind as a bat. He’s probably seen my eyes by now. Solid red. No pupils, no whites. “We can work this out you know. I don’t want to fight.” 

[psyren-archer-blog]

“Fine,” I mumble, almost whisper. I notice her odd eyes, but don’t comment on them, it’s honestly none of my business what that’s about. “Anyway, you’re right. You are freakishly tall.” Spotting something I will eat, I lean over the counter and start counting, to see how much it may be worth. “Hey, do you think I can buy that tub of cold gummy bears from this place if I pay the market value?”

[drakomalfoyyy-deactivated202006]

if this eggplant gets less than 5 million notes i’m going to be so upset

[remadora-black]

Reblogging because eggplant

[archieeleach]

Fewer than 5 million notes. Fewer. Not less. 

[ivenotafuckingcluetbh]

I believe that it is called an  aubergine. 

[solveitwithchocolate]

IN AMERICA WE LET EGGS BE PLANTS BECAUSE FREEDOM

[tonguelikernurder-blog]

In Britain we let those AUBERGINES live once we heal them with our FREE HEALTH CARE

[alianovvna]

NOBODY CARES, ENGLAND

[myfairprouvaire]

at least America came up with their own word and didn’t steal ours

[trenzaloretriscuit-deactivated2]

you used the wrong flag France

[obsessedobsesser]

Hey! Hey, guys! Canada likes eggplants - or aubergine - what ever you want to call it - too!

Can we be included in this!?

[wheatleylaboratories]

[flyawaymax]

Tumblr is the only place I can think of where a picture of an eggplant turns into a battle between countries.

[psyren-archer-blog]

Starter?

[psyren-archer-blog]

“Kirra! That’s a nice name, easy to remember too.” Like I ever could forget this somewhat cranky, scarlet haired Psy user who’s literally dragged me out of a rather sticky situation. “If you don’t mind me asking, what kind of Psy do you use?” My hand unconsciously moves forward every time she stumbles, it wouldn’t do to have her fall and hit her head again I tell myself, but she never does fall, so I bring my hand back again each time.

[quietblaring]

She almost stopped in her tracks at the unavoidable question, but kept on walking. She would just give a simple answer. “In a sense I do mind.” Kirra let a small sigh escape her lips. “However, I suppose there is no harm in saying I’m exceptionally gifted in rise. My senses are acute on a normal basis, and even more so when I use rise… that’s why my nickname in the organization is Tracker.” She stopped there, not going into details about her skills or anything else. “Ah, found one.” She spoke without emotion, her gaze turning up towards a nearby fast food facility. “This is what you were looking for, right?” Without waiting for an answer she quickly walked towards the entrance. Really quickly. It probably wasn’t the best in her condition but she walked so fast to the front of the small building that you’d think she was running instead.

[psyren-archer-blog]

"Rise... and you use it to boost your senses. Hey! Wait up!" Running after her, I open the door for both of us. I then rush to the bathroom, to relieve myself for the first time in around two and a half weeks. A few minutes later, I feel much better. Walking back up to her, I decide it's only fair if she knows my powers as well. "I'm more of a standard rise user... speed, strength, all that boring stuff. My specialty is Blast, I guess I'm pretty good at that." Something's been bugging me ever since we arrived here, but only now do I realize what it was. Putting on what I hope seems like an innocently curious face, I ask, "So... you mentioned an organization... anything you can tell me about it? Hmm... how about the title of Tracker, can't they just call you Kirra?"

[psyren-archer-blog]

Starter?

[psyren-archer-blog]

“So… I just realized I haven’t properly introduced myself. The name’s Markus. With a ‘k’, not a ‘c’. What’s yours?” While my voice seems cheerful, I know my eyes have taken on a dead look, similar to those of a soldier who has been forced to kill time and time again. I’m glad she’s turned around and cannot see them. I walk slowly behind her, evaluating what I’ve observed, and what I can infer about her life. She’s almost definitely a fellow Psychier. I’m not sure what her childhood’s been like but it’s probably safe to assume it really sucked, like mine. Her black jacket doesn’t quite fit her, it’s a bit too large, so she probably got it from somebody else, but by what means I’m not sure. She’s also somewhat angry, or at least rather annoyed with me, but I get the feeling that’s pretty normal for her, just like it’s normal for me to resign myself to whatever crazy thing is happening in my life, so that I don’t get riled up enough for Typhon to come out of his shell.

[quietblaring]

“…Markus.” She repeated the name quietly to herself, quite unsure if she had heard it before. No, she was quite sure she hadn’t, but it bugged her. This guy was truly like her? The fierce, burning look vanished from her scarlet eyes and her shoulders relaxed, now looking a tad more thoughtful. Still a tad confused of the existence of her kind outside of the W.I.S.E. “My name is Kirra.” she stated in response in a soft and cool voice, easily comparable to that of a chilly breeze, and rather void of any sign of emotion. This was a small world, clearly, and she felt a tad uneasy about meeting someone like her. Yet at the same time maybe it was a good thing. However, she had her doubts about this person, making her raise her guards. They were almost to the place she planned on going. Kirra stumbling to the side every so often from feeling dizzy still kept on walking without not looking back.

[psyren-archer-blog]

"Kirra! That's a nice name, easy to remember too." Like I ever could forget this somewhat cranky, scarlet haired Psy user who's literally dragged me out of a rather sticky situation. "If you don't mind me asking, what kind of Psy do you use?" My hand unconsciously moves forward every time she stumbles, it wouldn't do to have her fall and hit her head again I tell myself, but she never does fall, so I bring my hand back again each time.

[hysterio0-deactivated20170306]

a photo project i had to do, got lazyy so i just morphed myself with a car to make a centaur except instead of a horse its a car, so yeah :P

[psyren-archer-blog]

CEN-CAR!