Curiose

I miss you, too, DST. 

Hope you don't mind me bringing up an old thing from the past:
But Nightshade used to be a common mention. I don't know if people mention it any more ( I don't remember it's context, but I assume it was a necrovian drug) or if even the freshest Necrovians even know of it's existence in MD.

Nightshade the flower is a dark purple'd hue in real life. 

There is deadly nightshade the flower, and then there is also the family "nightshade" which carries vegetables and berries such as eggplants. huckleberries, tomatoes. 

Hi I'm dead. Granos murdered me with a spoon. 

He said I was too beeligerent and deserved some time in the comb. 

Azull said my ap will wax with being in shade, but I don't see what all the buzz was about with being dead. 

He said that the rewards will be as sweet as honey, though! : )))

Maybe other deadlings should wake up and smell the flowers for once.

Granos asked for it.

I work a lot now. Like, almost 60 hours a lot, now. Mostly due to covid but once everything at work is sorted I'll be ok. 

I have a tendency to ramble and a lot that remember me will remember that, specifically. 

Just wanted to pop in here and say that I miss you. This place was of great inspiration for me and the bug has kind of hit me again. I miss it. 
I do have a couple of questions:
Who runs the MDA? 
Is there a vault of avvies I can look into? I seem to be missing one, in either I gave it away a long time ago or it has been pulled. Amoran gave it to me. 
And, I guess, lastly, is there anything I can do to help in my minimal time?

I work a lot now. Like, almost 60 hours a lot, now. Mostly due to covid but once everything at work is sorted I'll be ok. 

I have a tendency to ramble and a lot that remember me will remember that, specifically. 

Just wanted to pop in here and say that I miss you. This place was of great inspiration for me and the bug has kind of hit me again. I miss it. 
I do have a couple of questions:
Who runs the MDA? 
Is there a vault of avvies I can look into? I seem to be missing one, in either I gave it away a long time ago or it has been pulled. Amoran gave it to me. 
And, I guess, lastly, is there anything I can do to help in my minimal time?

I as well like the idea myself. Sometimes, I personally, use the analogy of muscle to kind of corroborate it, seeing as how I love biology, and such things like that tickle me pink. The muscle breaks, and repairs itself to become anew and stronger... I dunno why, but I find it slightly poetic.

The fact of 'breaking down, to be anew' is something that I seem to find fairly fascinating. In Buddhist religion, they believe in reincarnation. While, [not sure if it's the same one] in some country, they use that to form their political restraint on the public. The "Untouchables" would work till death, being good and hoping to do well enough in a living form so that when they die, they become reincarnated into either a higher social faction, or as a Cow.

But it also works psychologically, too..

I'm not sure if you've read Crash, Grido [a story I wrote], but, at the end, the narrator ends up breaking to little pieces. The pieces are picked up, while some are left behind. You fall, you crash, and break, but you repair yourself to become stronger, if a little damaged. But isn't that the risk everyone takes?

The only reason why Archivists haven't gotten anything done is.. well, oh gee, [b]there were only 2 of them. [/b]Je suis abandoned MD, Ivorak and Pample left for Necrovion, Renavoid was just... Renavoid. And he left, too. Rendril codes for MD and Inno has a life outside of MD. Would it really seem fair to point the dirty finger at people for living a life of their own, or even maybe helping MD in itself?

And really... how often is it that there is actually stuff to record that people aren't stuffing up in their yim convos or their 'secret' meetings, eh? What exactly is out there to be palpable and researchable instead of it being a bunch of stupid fluff that people will discredit and claim never happened?

Nothing. Nothing is out there and you know why? Because people are stuck up their egos and their information hoarding that they fail to realize the impact of what happens.


I have heard it said over and over again that there is nothing to record. Nothing to convey into writing. That NOTHING was going on. Especially by some of the 'veterans.' They say that the archivists that the legend speakers are obsolete. And now,at the first major thing that happens, you go and say that we're not doing our job!? For christ's sake. How can you even make the assumption?

Fyrd has TRIED making the community get more actively involved. If there's anything you have to blame, blame the people who don't care enough to be involved except in their little bubble of spice and flowers.


Now. On topic:
It is sad that Necrovion has to fall due to the blundering of its 'king.' But as Peace has said, perhaps a fresh beginning would be best for all.

Thank you everyone for the Birthday wishes!
It was fantastic. 

I dunno. In my early days I played a crazed mushroom worshipper who demanded sacrifices and overall made a pittance out of religion. 
 
Yet... no one told me it was offensive. 
 
So, I dunno. It doesn't bother me. 

Thank you, Ignnus.

I think you kind of stated something that was very elusive for me. I was asked what this piece means to me, and I think I know.

I haven't written anything like this in a long time. And so it makes me very happy to know I can still write. But anywho. I wrote this, and I want to share, and I want thoughts and I want critiques. Please and thank you, would you please?
 
Ship's Safe Harbor
 
It is the way the rain falls; without care or precision. It just falls. Like the way your hands fell-- inanimate,  while the color drained from your face. And I recalled the day you laid in bed with a half written smile. It was so full of stories, things you never shared, things I wanted to know about the world out there. Where the waves crashed against the boulders and the sea salt stung your face. You never told me about how the wind whistled in your ear of promise and adventure, nor how the sky, in its vastness, foretold the future. 
 
You were so young when you started. Just a boy who didn't know any better, just knew that he had a calling. Didn't care about the tales of creatures or illness.  You had a heart made of glass that only grew more robust every time you landed along the shore with your feet digging into the hot sand. 
 
Months, you disappeared. Without letter or word or thought to note your situation. Upon return, it was like you never showed; just a ghost to haunt the memories that still existed. But here you are, not a ghost, but not a man, either. The rain is still falling, and I remember how much you loved that rain. Doesn't matter if the storm hit while on ship, or while you chased those tides. The water in its various forms was yours and you could read it like the best of them. 
 
Like that time you came home drenched and nearly caught your death. Yet you beamed with such enthusiasm. You smiled so wide and you waved your lantern and you cried out in a cheer that you were home. 
 
But now you are here. The same curious light in your eyes has passed. The same ocean green that reminded me so much of those thunderous waves has faded. It is lackluster even though I try as I might to remember the life. Every day you risked your life, catching whatever you could whenever you had to. Not out of duty, not out of praise, but for the sake of wanting to feel alive. To feel the adrenaline rush that comes with chaos and unknown. 
 
No matter where you went you sought that excitement. Contagious, it was. With a wide brimming grin, and a chortle that was infectious. You were unmistakable; everyone knew you. Ironically, though, now you are alone. 
 
You won't be able to travel the wide berth of water. You won't smell of salt, sweat, and blood. But you are here. And you are home at last, where you won't fear being forgotten. All your scares and frights are gone now because I will remember you and your honor and your light. No more will you fear being lost at sea, dying without the comfort of those who care. 
 
Right now, you are safe. In your ship's safe harbor. 

Dude...ehm..
first some unnecessary info (don't read here) :
I've grew up among THE hippie republic (my hometown Izmir = most hardcore\in worst shape\faking sharks kind of libbies gathered, and my neighborhood is literally called coldwell)..result is permanent brain damage.

This piece reminds me of the times when i catch myself showing extreme interest on something new and it is short lived(3 second), it's all because of a sneering/exploding ego who endlessly whistles nasty things to my ear..then i realize the only way i can get some peace at all is to find someone/something who i can't mimic successfully, like a power source which experience shows eventually will degrade even before naturally running out/some people would call that loser. Long story short:  have some backbone and just die if you are dead instead of sticking to concepts like equality and goodness..grrr
 
So that's why playing Md has been fun for me.
After that ridiculous bit i must say this was an awesome read...most people lack and love that "i care" vibe, not sure how this would be received by general public, cause it is very personal and not "professional" enough, however this story is gold and if only there were a lot more like these..

I haven't written anything like this in a long time. And so it makes me very happy to know I can still write. But anywho. I wrote this, and I want to share, and I want thoughts and I want critiques. Please and thank you, would you please?
 
Ship's Safe Harbor
 
It is the way the rain falls; without care or precision. It just falls. Like the way your hands fell-- inanimate,  while the color drained from your face. And I recalled the day you laid in bed with a half written smile. It was so full of stories, things you never shared, things I wanted to know about the world out there. Where the waves crashed against the boulders and the sea salt stung your face. You never told me about how the wind whistled in your ear of promise and adventure, nor how the sky, in its vastness, foretold the future. 
 
You were so young when you started. Just a boy who didn't know any better, just knew that he had a calling. Didn't care about the tales of creatures or illness.  You had a heart made of glass that only grew more robust every time you landed along the shore with your feet digging into the hot sand. 
 
Months, you disappeared. Without letter or word or thought to note your situation. Upon return, it was like you never showed; just a ghost to haunt the memories that still existed. But here you are, not a ghost, but not a man, either. The rain is still falling, and I remember how much you loved that rain. Doesn't matter if the storm hit while on ship, or while you chased those tides. The water in its various forms was yours and you could read it like the best of them. 
 
Like that time you came home drenched and nearly caught your death. Yet you beamed with such enthusiasm. You smiled so wide and you waved your lantern and you cried out in a cheer that you were home. 
 
But now you are here. The same curious light in your eyes has passed. The same ocean green that reminded me so much of those thunderous waves has faded. It is lackluster even though I try as I might to remember the life. Every day you risked your life, catching whatever you could whenever you had to. Not out of duty, not out of praise, but for the sake of wanting to feel alive. To feel the adrenaline rush that comes with chaos and unknown. 
 
No matter where you went you sought that excitement. Contagious, it was. With a wide brimming grin, and a chortle that was infectious. You were unmistakable; everyone knew you. Ironically, though, now you are alone. 
 
You won't be able to travel the wide berth of water. You won't smell of salt, sweat, and blood. But you are here. And you are home at last, where you won't fear being forgotten. All your scares and frights are gone now because I will remember you and your honor and your light. No more will you fear being lost at sea, dying without the comfort of those who care. 
 
Right now, you are safe. In your ship's safe harbor. 

I haven't written anything like this in a long time. And so it makes me very happy to know I can still write. But anywho. I wrote this, and I want to share, and I want thoughts and I want critiques. Please and thank you, would you please?
 
Ship's Safe Harbor
 
It is the way the rain falls; without care or precision. It just falls. Like the way your hands fell-- inanimate,  while the color drained from your face. And I recalled the day you laid in bed with a half written smile. It was so full of stories, things you never shared, things I wanted to know about the world out there. Where the waves crashed against the boulders and the sea salt stung your face. You never told me about how the wind whistled in your ear of promise and adventure, nor how the sky, in its vastness, foretold the future. 
 
You were so young when you started. Just a boy who didn't know any better, just knew that he had a calling. Didn't care about the tales of creatures or illness.  You had a heart made of glass that only grew more robust every time you landed along the shore with your feet digging into the hot sand. 
 
Months, you disappeared. Without letter or word or thought to note your situation. Upon return, it was like you never showed; just a ghost to haunt the memories that still existed. But here you are, not a ghost, but not a man, either. The rain is still falling, and I remember how much you loved that rain. Doesn't matter if the storm hit while on ship, or while you chased those tides. The water in its various forms was yours and you could read it like the best of them. 
 
Like that time you came home drenched and nearly caught your death. Yet you beamed with such enthusiasm. You smiled so wide and you waved your lantern and you cried out in a cheer that you were home. 
 
But now you are here. The same curious light in your eyes has passed. The same ocean green that reminded me so much of those thunderous waves has faded. It is lackluster even though I try as I might to remember the life. Every day you risked your life, catching whatever you could whenever you had to. Not out of duty, not out of praise, but for the sake of wanting to feel alive. To feel the adrenaline rush that comes with chaos and unknown. 
 
No matter where you went you sought that excitement. Contagious, it was. With a wide brimming grin, and a chortle that was infectious. You were unmistakable; everyone knew you. Ironically, though, now you are alone. 
 
You won't be able to travel the wide berth of water. You won't smell of salt, sweat, and blood. But you are here. And you are home at last, where you won't fear being forgotten. All your scares and frights are gone now because I will remember you and your honor and your light. No more will you fear being lost at sea, dying without the comfort of those who care. 
 
Right now, you are safe. In your ship's safe harbor. 

I haven't written anything like this in a long time. And so it makes me very happy to know I can still write. But anywho. I wrote this, and I want to share, and I want thoughts and I want critiques. Please and thank you, would you please?
 
Ship's Safe Harbor
 
It is the way the rain falls; without care or precision. It just falls. Like the way your hands fell-- inanimate,  while the color drained from your face. And I recalled the day you laid in bed with a half written smile. It was so full of stories, things you never shared, things I wanted to know about the world out there. Where the waves crashed against the boulders and the sea salt stung your face. You never told me about how the wind whistled in your ear of promise and adventure, nor how the sky, in its vastness, foretold the future. 
 
You were so young when you started. Just a boy who didn't know any better, just knew that he had a calling. Didn't care about the tales of creatures or illness.  You had a heart made of glass that only grew more robust every time you landed along the shore with your feet digging into the hot sand. 
 
Months, you disappeared. Without letter or word or thought to note your situation. Upon return, it was like you never showed; just a ghost to haunt the memories that still existed. But here you are, not a ghost, but not a man, either. The rain is still falling, and I remember how much you loved that rain. Doesn't matter if the storm hit while on ship, or while you chased those tides. The water in its various forms was yours and you could read it like the best of them. 
 
Like that time you came home drenched and nearly caught your death. Yet you beamed with such enthusiasm. You smiled so wide and you waved your lantern and you cried out in a cheer that you were home. 
 
But now you are here. The same curious light in your eyes has passed. The same ocean green that reminded me so much of those thunderous waves has faded. It is lackluster even though I try as I might to remember the life. Every day you risked your life, catching whatever you could whenever you had to. Not out of duty, not out of praise, but for the sake of wanting to feel alive. To feel the adrenaline rush that comes with chaos and unknown. 
 
No matter where you went you sought that excitement. Contagious, it was. With a wide brimming grin, and a chortle that was infectious. You were unmistakable; everyone knew you. Ironically, though, now you are alone. 
 
You won't be able to travel the wide berth of water. You won't smell of salt, sweat, and blood. But you are here. And you are home at last, where you won't fear being forgotten. All your scares and frights are gone now because I will remember you and your honor and your light. No more will you fear being lost at sea, dying without the comfort of those who care. 
 
Right now, you are safe. In your ship's safe harbor. 

I haven't written anything like this in a long time. And so it makes me very happy to know I can still write. But anywho. I wrote this, and I want to share, and I want thoughts and I want critiques. Please and thank you, would you please?
 
Ship's Safe Harbor
 
It is the way the rain falls; without care or precision. It just falls. Like the way your hands fell-- inanimate,  while the color drained from your face. And I recalled the day you laid in bed with a half written smile. It was so full of stories, things you never shared, things I wanted to know about the world out there. Where the waves crashed against the boulders and the sea salt stung your face. You never told me about how the wind whistled in your ear of promise and adventure, nor how the sky, in its vastness, foretold the future. 
 
You were so young when you started. Just a boy who didn't know any better, just knew that he had a calling. Didn't care about the tales of creatures or illness.  You had a heart made of glass that only grew more robust every time you landed along the shore with your feet digging into the hot sand. 
 
Months, you disappeared. Without letter or word or thought to note your situation. Upon return, it was like you never showed; just a ghost to haunt the memories that still existed. But here you are, not a ghost, but not a man, either. The rain is still falling, and I remember how much you loved that rain. Doesn't matter if the storm hit while on ship, or while you chased those tides. The water in its various forms was yours and you could read it like the best of them. 
 
Like that time you came home drenched and nearly caught your death. Yet you beamed with such enthusiasm. You smiled so wide and you waved your lantern and you cried out in a cheer that you were home. 
 
But now you are here. The same curious light in your eyes has passed. The same ocean green that reminded me so much of those thunderous waves has faded. It is lackluster even though I try as I might to remember the life. Every day you risked your life, catching whatever you could whenever you had to. Not out of duty, not out of praise, but for the sake of wanting to feel alive. To feel the adrenaline rush that comes with chaos and unknown. 
 
No matter where you went you sought that excitement. Contagious, it was. With a wide brimming grin, and a chortle that was infectious. You were unmistakable; everyone knew you. Ironically, though, now you are alone. 
 
You won't be able to travel the wide berth of water. You won't smell of salt, sweat, and blood. But you are here. And you are home at last, where you won't fear being forgotten. All your scares and frights are gone now because I will remember you and your honor and your light. No more will you fear being lost at sea, dying without the comfort of those who care. 
 
Right now, you are safe. In your ship's safe harbor. 

I dunno. In my early days I played a crazed mushroom worshipper who demanded sacrifices and overall made a pittance out of religion. 
 
Yet... no one told me it was offensive. 
 
So, I dunno. It doesn't bother me. 

I think it's okay to have an ego so long as you remain humble as well. If that makes any kind of sense. 
 
Personally, I feel that knowing and understanding the consequences of your actions and if your actions are worth said consequences should be the defining decision of what we do.  

Demotion is a poor choice of words as she was not forcibly removed from the pposition. She requested it.

Resignation is the better choice.

I did not take what you stated as an attempt to censor me, at all, either. 
 
I think I make a fair statement in that no one's interactions can truly dictate the integrity of a person-- does not matter if someone has 99 good interactions with someone. That person will still have 1 who has had a negative impact put upon them. Sometimes people don't seem to see the forest from the trees, in this case.

 Edit: by no-one, I didn't mean the person. I meant a generalized "no one". Apologies if any confusion came about.

Demotion is a poor choice of words as she was not forcibly removed from the pposition. She requested it.

Resignation is the better choice.

Demotion is a poor choice of words as she was not forcibly removed from the pposition. She requested it.

Resignation is the better choice.

Demotion is a poor choice of words as she was not forcibly removed from the pposition. She requested it.

Resignation is the better choice.

Mur, are you responding to the right post?