#rp b

[tenderribcage]

CUTE CRIMINALS

Heres some mugshots of the boys as example picks!! Enjoy these criminals!!

[imgads-blog1]

* ｡♦ ⋅ ⋆  –  InterMagical Games

Em 2021 uma nova competição bruxa surgia. Após tempos de paz a Confederação Internacional de Magia concordou que os jovens bruxos precisavam de um incentivo para prosperar, visto que o ancestral torneio tribruxo havia sido cancelado após os incidentes de 1994. Ministra Hermione Granger sugeriu que criasse o Intermagical Games: uma competição que estimula a cooperação em magia, composto de seis modalidades disputadas por três escolas escolhidas. 

                                           Quem levariá a glória Eterna?

           { Plot / Regras / Escolas / Modalidades  }

[selezionerp-blog]

Olá tag, tudo bem? Então, eu estou criando um rpg de A Seleção (algo que vocês já devem ter visto de monte por aqui, eu sei) que se passa na Itália, um pouquinho diferente dos tradicionais que geralmente são situados em Illéa ou na Inglaterra. É o primeiro rp que eu irei gerenciar, então eu estou muito insegura sobre ele, mas gostaria que todxs que tiverem interesse, por favor, dêem like nessa postagem só para eu ter uma ideia se realmente vale a pena ou não criá-lo. Obrigada pela atenção ♥

[red-eyes-and-green-skin]

Wrathion, for one raised in Ravenholdt, was simply terrible at travelling undercover.

That was Right's opinion, anyway. His outfits were always just a little too flashy, his roles that he assumed far too obvious - always a travelling magician or a progidal child of some rich family - and his voice and presence were quite distinctive. He refused to refrain from using his blood-given powers to entertain himself even when Right thumped his upper arm and told him that people were watching. <Half-elves can't be shaman,> she hissed in brusque signs, and he sulked.

<At least take a dwarvish or draenic form,> she signed patiently a few minutes later. She knew he preferred this form by far, but it was vital that the Horde adventurers sharing the same Northrend caravan weren't aware that he was travelling to Dalaran. It was no longer neutral territory, and if he was seen there, then he would no longer be considered neutral either.

He sighed dramatically. "Susa," he drawled the pseudonym disparagingly, "I know you're concerned, but there's really nothing to worry about. My mother wouldn't send me here if there weren't answers to be found." "Still, Master Willum, it would be best if you were to keep your powers hidden," she muttered just loud enough that the blood elf eyeing them suspiciously would hear. To Right's covert relief, she looked away. "At least until we have answers as to their source."

'Susa' looked her master over. He'd chosen a different form to his usual, at least. His face looked the same, and his eyes had only faded to dull brown rather than their usual red because of the cantrip gem glowing on his cloth cap. But he was two feet shorter, and several years younger - appearing almost as a human eight-year-old would. A suspiciously well-spoken eight year old, but Right supposed that his short but distinctly pointed ears would quell most questions about that. Half-elves aged very oddly sometimes.

The caravan trundled to a stop at the edge of Dragonblight, and its Horde constituents departed before it rumbled its way onwards to Dalaran.

[red-eyes-and-green-skin]

"Your Majesty,

Lady Jaina has accepted your invitation," Left announced, on arriving back from the Tavern in the Mists after a three-day excursion to the mainlands. She was back to her usual height, at least, and seemed in good spirits (or what counted as them, for her).

"Invitation?" Wrathion quirked an eyebrow, then his expression soured and he narrowed his eyes at Left. "What invitation is this, Left?"

"The one you agreed on sending with Milanda," she brusquely replied, busying herself with filing some of the reports she missed while she was gone. "To meet Lady Jaina, discuss the greyface magic, and perhaps gain her approval for your friendships with her daughter and nephew."

Wrathion sighed deeply. He supposed it was a good idea, and he was rather invested in being instrumental to any future partial or total immunity which King Wrynn had from the greyface magic. He was rather hoping it would enamour the King to him and perhaps, just maybe, they'd be able to finally breach the subject of him being allowed to stay in Anduin's room without having to sneak around.

Distant, lofty dreams - but perhaps not so unattainable.

"Yes," he finally said, "very well. Have Right prepare my travel convoy. We depart for Dalaran."