Darkness braved ceases to be darkness (TFv4 p.313)
((OOC: here i am! i don't know much about sao but i'll try my best to learn as i go!))
He couldn't believe the days events so far. The chubby otter sat at a table in the corner of the room, the large plate of food hardly touched. He drew little designs into the soft wood of the table with his claw, trying to seem calm while the inside of his head felt like static. He looked up at his username "wango_django" that he was originally so proud of but now just looked like a childish gag at his name.
Django thought about the amount of time and effort he had spent fixing up his old computer to run the new game, his fingers still sticky from the orange juice that was spilled on the keyboard so long ago. He thought about the helmet he had saved from being thrown away by a friend when she received a newer and fancier model. But most of all, he thought about the avatar he had made, muscles shining and the generated body the definition of fitness. Only to be ripped away from him to show the world what an unfit loser he really was.
The otter looked out the nearby window, unsure of how much time he had spent moping. He grabbed his cup and drank slowly, trying to clear his head before departing. He'd have to find a group to join and how could he if he was in such an unhealthy state of mind?
Hoo boy, I should have posted here before posting my character profiles. Oops!
Anyways, my name is Kit though I've also gone by Ginger on a different roleplaying site, Warriors of Redwall! I've been a fan of the series for a handful of years now, first discovering the series when my grandma took a couple old copies home from the library she worked at. I recently reread the whole series and fell in love with it all over again! I originally started roleplaying on the site mentioned before, Warriors of Redwall, though I became curious about this site when others started talking about it.
Sorry, I'm not entirely too sure what to say! I suppose… I'm excited to meet a whole bunch of you and roleplay the stories and adventures we make together! My inbox is always open if anyone wants to chat. Hopefully, you'll learn to enjoy my company!
p.s if you also were on WoR, drop me a line! i'd love to catch up with you! (i'm the same user as "ginger" from that site, in case you couldn't tell)
Name: Django Westbrook
Species: River otter
Description: He's a bit bulkier than most otters. His fur is sleek and dark brown with the bottom half of his face and stomach being a creamy white. He's often seen wearing a well-worn light blue vest and a black belt with a few pouches hanging from it and his dagger prominently displayed.
Possessions: Dagger, pouches with herbs
- Excellent swimmer
- Self-taught healer though not as good as an actual medic
- Judgmental of strangers
- Has crippling anxiety
- Loves taking risks
Though he's cold to those he doesn't know well, it shouldn't take long for Django to warm up to you. He's known to be witty and can joke around but never means any harm by it; he's beat himself up if he found out that he was insulting someone or hurting their feelings. He's suffered from anxiety since he was a pup, which hinders his decision making and his actions; one who knows him can tell if he's anxious as he starts to pick at his claws. Still, Django loves taking risks and will jump at the first chance to do so. Though he hasn't really thought much about his sexuality, he's noticed he favors more male beasts than female.
Born and raised along the River Moss, Django is very familiar with the area. When he was twelve seasons old (three years), his parents found toddler (around four seasons) Ginger wandering the woodlands alone and decided to take her in when no other hares came along to claim her. He warmed up to her after a week and they became great friends quickly. As they grew together, they always talked and fantasized about going on traveling together and going on adventures; the two eventually did leave their holt when they were deemed old enough. Though they have traveled far and wide, Django and Ginger love stopping in at Redwall Abbey.
Twenty-two human years (82 seasons)
Name: Ginger Westbrook
Ginger is average sized for a hare her age. Her fur, smoother than most and often kept clean, is a light tan with rich ginger markings in a style most commonly known as "sealpoint" (they cover her ears, tail, snout, and paws) She’s typically seen wearing a burgundy tunic with a dark brown belt; pouches containing stones and herbs hang from it. She often walks around barefoot, no matter what terrain. She carries around a marigold cloth that she'll tie around her neck or her head on occasion.
Maple wood violin and bow, lance, sling, various pouches of stones and herbs, bandana,
- Excellent swimmer
- Plays the violin well
- Extreme fear of fire
- Trusts too easily
Unlike her brother, Ginger is very friendly to those she first meets and tries to see the good in most beasts. This, however, doesn't mean she's a pushover and won't fight when provoked. She is skilled with a lance and often carries one with her; when not using it, she'll use it as a walking stick. She loves nature and is usually found by the abbey pond or looking out at Mossflower woods. If it's a nice day, she can be found playing a ditty or making up a song on her violin. Usually calm in times of trouble, Ginger is overall just a happy critter.
Ginger was found by an otter family when she was a leveret and brought back to their tribe; it is still unknown as what has happened to her parents though she has never made an effort to figure it out. In the tribe, she grew up along the River Moss with her adoptive brother Django like any otter would; the two ended up growing extremely close. She learned how to play the violin from her adoptive aunt and was a hit whenever the holt would have a feast; the two would often play fancy toe-tapping duets. When the two were in their early teens, Ginger and Django left their tribe to go exploring. The duo have stopped at Redwall on several occasions but could never permanently stay there. Ginger has thought about joining the long patrol but hasn’t made a decision on the subject yet.
Twenty human years (eighty seasons)