07-15-2018, 02:02 PM
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[glow=grey,2,300]JONATHAN CROW -- TAGS[/glow]
Dark leather boots crunched against the glittering snow, the force of each step pressing into crystallized, powdered ice, a breath puffed upon the wind, expelled from lungs, drifting into the chilled atmosphere in the form of sparkling mist that danced and swirled toward the clouded sky. Frost dusted the shoulders of a man wearing a dark ski jacket and black pants, hands hanging loosely at his side, garbed in thick leather wool gloves. He looked average, albeit a bit tall, with brown hair covered by a snow kissed hood and eyes of glacial sapphire. Jonathan was out for a bit of a walk. He was searching for a quiet space in which he could conduct his experiments without being disturbed. Surely, a person screaming in the middle of town would draw attention. No, he needed a quiet place, away from the bustling Flintlock village. The old mines, perhaps. There were sure to be other entrances somewhere in the mountains. He'd find them, set up shop, and begin his work once more. Perhaps one day he would be discovered, but that was alright. There were plenty of other places he could travel to in which to continue his work.
As he walked, searching, vigilant, he became increasingly aware of another presence in the snow nearby, heard the sound of an agonized shout. Curious, he was drawn to the noise, until his shadow passed the crest of a snow tuft, and he saw them. Jonathan paused, nothing more than a still figure kissed by the snow that drifted from dark clouds, an ominous form of dark clothing against the stark white, silent, and watching. He took note that one of the two men were injured, the younger, it would seem. Jonathan hummed silently to himself in contemplation. The wounded one would make for a good start, a victim that wouldn't put up as much of a fight, and miles out of town, who would ever know? But the other man looked tougher, stronger, perhaps skilled in combat. Jonathan wasn't certain that he wanted to chance it. Chilled eyes of blue narrowed with potential cruelty, but he said nothing, merely watched like a statue in the snow, a dark presence that hovered in the cold atmosphere.
thes code
Dark leather boots crunched against the glittering snow, the force of each step pressing into crystallized, powdered ice, a breath puffed upon the wind, expelled from lungs, drifting into the chilled atmosphere in the form of sparkling mist that danced and swirled toward the clouded sky. Frost dusted the shoulders of a man wearing a dark ski jacket and black pants, hands hanging loosely at his side, garbed in thick leather wool gloves. He looked average, albeit a bit tall, with brown hair covered by a snow kissed hood and eyes of glacial sapphire. Jonathan was out for a bit of a walk. He was searching for a quiet space in which he could conduct his experiments without being disturbed. Surely, a person screaming in the middle of town would draw attention. No, he needed a quiet place, away from the bustling Flintlock village. The old mines, perhaps. There were sure to be other entrances somewhere in the mountains. He'd find them, set up shop, and begin his work once more. Perhaps one day he would be discovered, but that was alright. There were plenty of other places he could travel to in which to continue his work.
As he walked, searching, vigilant, he became increasingly aware of another presence in the snow nearby, heard the sound of an agonized shout. Curious, he was drawn to the noise, until his shadow passed the crest of a snow tuft, and he saw them. Jonathan paused, nothing more than a still figure kissed by the snow that drifted from dark clouds, an ominous form of dark clothing against the stark white, silent, and watching. He took note that one of the two men were injured, the younger, it would seem. Jonathan hummed silently to himself in contemplation. The wounded one would make for a good start, a victim that wouldn't put up as much of a fight, and miles out of town, who would ever know? But the other man looked tougher, stronger, perhaps skilled in combat. Jonathan wasn't certain that he wanted to chance it. Chilled eyes of blue narrowed with potential cruelty, but he said nothing, merely watched like a statue in the snow, a dark presence that hovered in the cold atmosphere.
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[b]IT'S DR. HORRIBLE'S TURN, YOU WILL ALL HAVE TO LEARN
THIS WORLD IS GOING TO BURN. HERE GOES NO MERCY.
[font=verdana][sub]jonathan crow [color=black]/ the scarecrow / badlands officer / avatar by mistress of fearTHIS WORLD IS GOING TO BURN. HERE GOES NO MERCY.