You are here

Kharris

Oneska's picture

[Art] Fancy Cakes Shoppe Sign

Thought I'd whip up some quick signage for Fancy Cakes -- Aestan's idea, really. Not my best work, but it does it's job. ;)

Tywyll's picture

Flower of the Harvest Moon

(( A letter and package Tywyll hands to Analuri on leaving Silvermoon for Thunder Bluff ))

 

Dear Miss…..Kharris,

Tylien's picture

A mix of fire and perfume, she came with an odd request. (55 words)

No sign of her flashing dimples.

 

An odd request, but I was happy to help. There’d been a fire. Iloam's photos had been lost, and she wondered if I'd had a copy of one in particular.

I let her have it. Her hands shook when she touched it, but she thanked me and left again.

 

 

Llew's picture

Dont call me the tune

Who'd like to change the world
Who wants to shoot the curl
Who gets to work for bread
Who wants to get ahead

She's beautiful. I don't think I've ever seen her more lovely, no matter how hard she's tried. Seated in some artifical place, looking as if she were as artificial as her surroundings, I've never really understood the appeal.

Who hands out equal rights
who starts and ends that fight
And not rant and rave
Or end up a slave

Llew's picture

Hatred's Sweet Taste/Self Control

Rating: 

He's lying on a wooden floor. Those nasty, scrawny limbs are tied as tightly as a rabbit in a brace of them. His eyes aren't mocking me now.. they're filled with terror. I lean over him and grin. "Isn't this nice?" I hear myself purr, and I feel the hatred like the sweetest syrup in my mouth. Anticipation like honey.. like coppery blood. Oh, how well I know that taste thanks to him... I can feel the rough edges of the scars where he slit my cheeks as my tongue moves in my mouth. In a fast motion, I kneel, and slice away his nose.

Rhanjin's picture

"Passively Suicidal"

Players: 

There’s only three of ’em. Little suckers, go down quick. Faster when the ground rots and turns against ’em. No point in pickin’ ’em off one by one. Wastes time. So yah take ’em all.

But out here, three becomes six so easy when something else wanders by, and six becomes more iff’n yah don’ finish up quick. Then yer hackin’ away with the sword dancin’ at yer side and even the bloody-won armor can’t keep yah from feelin’ the blows.

Iloam's picture

Shrouds

The weather was perfect for scaling the ratlines up past the tops and well into the cross-trees, finding meself a nice perch behind the main topgallant mast. The winds were light and carrying a warmth from the rising sun that brought a sort of wanton abandon after spending the past few days in Winterspring. I’d left most my clothes, besides pants and boots, in my quarters and come up here while the rest of the crew rested for tea.

 

Iloam's picture

Beyond the Monster

I woke up to the dull, wooden thwack! of training swords clapping together on the beach, punctuated with the rhythmic cadence of Macleod’s barked orders. The cadets must have been in poor shape that morning – the seagulls laughed as they swirled high against the rising sun. Their shrill noise bored straight down into my eardrum and I groaned, rolling miserably against the itchy, grey standard issue sheets. One of my bunkmates grumbled, driving her small elbow into my neck.

Iloam's picture

Art: Not A Puppy

((Very mild warning: Christmas underwear!))

Ineesa's picture

What's This?

It was sometime last week I woke up, rubbing my eyes, in the rented room Shar and I share in Dalaran. The bed isn't that big – sized more for humans than for draenei – but we don't mind. Cozy enough for two, though I did take some care not to wake her, as the past night's work had been late and difficult.

Vinguld's picture

Nothing like me.

Rating: 

"Look at me, girl. What do you see?"

"...Death..."

How maudlin. How pretentious. It served its purpose, I'll agree. The broken wretch began to find her feet again, and accept her fate. Her fate? Her destiny, perhaps. Reborn to be a weapon, and in her case all unwilling, she might as well turn in her creator's hand.

Yes, that served me so well, didn't it. Got me such a terribly long way...

Theryl's picture

Remembrance

 

Has it really been three years I've been coming up here?  Seems a lot longer in some ways, lot shorter in others.  So much has happened in the last year, Pete.  Yuta and the babies are fine.  Almost can't call them babies anymore, toddling around and getting into everything.  Talking up a storm too, even if none of us can understand it.

Theryl's picture

Gang Aft a Gley

Rating: 

 

It was a long flight to Booty Bay.  Plenty of time to think, plenty of time to stew.  Little voices in the back of my head kept telling me this was a mistake, but I ignored them.  I usually do.  I mentally replayed the scenes from the last few days as I flew.

It was all Iloam's fault.  Nice being able to blame someone other than me for once.  If he hadn't cut up Llew the Peacekeepers wouldn't have hauled Kharris in for questioning and .... at least she didn't blame me for Rowan's death.

Iloam's picture

Stowaway

I'd spent the better portion of the morning cleaning out the hold of one of the three ships Captain Whisperwind had pulled off the Bloodsails. Originally I'd intended to trade them for something bigger on the black market, but word had gotten out that the girls were marked goods and I couldn't even sell them for gold. So a fresh coat of paint and a good clean out would have to do it. We'd avoid the Bloodsails wrath just fine - bunch of lazy gits anyway, couldn't sail their way out of a fish pond with a bloody map.

Kharris's picture

Conversation with the Spirit Healer ((55 words))

Rating: 
Players: 

((Cut for language))

 

 

Fuck you!


FUCK. YOU.


Give him backWhy would you keep him from me?  Give him back!

...please...

Did I do this?

You're supposed to be powerful.  Supposed to bring them back when it isn't their time.

I saved Iloam...

Why couldn't I save him?

It shouldn't have been time...

You're lying.

FUCK YOU.

Theryl's picture

The Price of Failure

Someone had heard the screaming.  Someone had found the nearest authority figure ... me.  I'd started barking orders.  It had come full circle.

The room reeked of blood.  Splotches of the stuff decorated the walls and the huddled figure on the floor.  I knew him, I'd run into him at the White Hart, and I knew who had done this.  "Sir Toilet" Iloam had called him.  Seemed like a nice enough guy, but it was obvious he was in love with Kharris and him and Iloam had gone at it like two dogs snarling over a bitch.

Llew's picture

Drifting through the Abyss

Rating: 

Ice had seeped over his skin after the pain became a dull agonizing ache. It sank into his bones and he felt his feet rotting with the pain of the seared flesh and the slashed tendon. The bones melted into frozen blocks of throbbing hurt. The nails were lances of molten searing metal through ice and he fancied where he curled around them that his ice flesh was melting. The cold seeped across his slashed face, turning the heat to cold, the screams to moans.

Theryl's picture

Crúcan na bPáiste

Funerals shouldn't happen on nice days.  The chill rain of the past few days and the morning we buried Rowan was bright and sunny.  Wasn't much to say; what can you say?  Words fail at a  time like that.  Realistically, there hadn't been anything I could have done.  The child had been born breach and the cord had gotten wrapped around his neck and strangled him.  These things happened, about one birth in ten went wrong somehow; at least for humans. 

Realistically.

Llew's picture

Stag bound in the darkness

Rating: 

The moonlight streamed in on an angle into the dusty apartment. The single bed with sheets still rumpled from the last time Llew had slept in them stood on the wall opposite the window, where the light caught the shadowed shapes of fabric. The flat was small; a kitchenette with a single set of plates and two glasses carefully put away. Spartan, certainly - it was purchased for one reason alone, and from the unusued look, served it and little else.Llew's hand rattled the lock, and the door opened a little with a soft few words as he stepped in. "Kharris? Are you here?"

Llew's picture

Return from the woods...

Llewellyn Brightcloud strode from the Scryer's Inn, eyes flinty. His fingers shook off the remaining snow of Winterspring as he gauged the time.. nearly midnight. A sense of futile longing and frustration rose in the muscled chest of the young elf as he eyed a goblin courier sidelong. Iloam... the rogue had been cuddling some night elf. His hand, Llew was certain, had gone up the woman's leg! It was unthinkable.. especially since as far as Llew could recall, Kharris was due... well, any time now! Which meant something had happened. Iloam had left her, perhaps..

Iloam's picture

Hurtling

There is that moment when time stops. You’re going along mindful of yourself, keeping the nerves in check, playing it casual while you wear a bloody hole in the rug on the soles of your boots while you can’t stop second guessing if that name will really fit. Maybe we should have gone with something more traditionally Elvish, or something from her family, or thrown all that rubbish out and just picked something completely unexpected and gone with Gregory or Zul’arek.

Kharris's picture

Drowning, under numb Shadows

Rating: 

 ((Late post, should have been posted last Wednesday.))

Theryl's picture

Looking Homeward

 

The early evening's a quiet time in Nighthaven, the Kaldorei are just waking up for the most part and the other folks, Tauren and Human mostly, are settling in for the evening. The sun's just about slipped away and Elune is up, just clearing the trees and about a quarter past full.  I send a little prayer up to Her, just a few thoughts for Yuta and the babies and some for Kharris and her baby.  That last bit'd probably scandalize a few folks, but if I've learned anything about gods it's that they don't fit into the little boxes we like to put them in.

Iloam's picture

Bad Seed

I’ve been doing this for so long, I should have known when things were going well that my luck would eventually dry out. Stealing the reference books from the University library had been as easy as if I’d been knicking copper pieces from Grandmum’s candy dish. Of course, it may have earned me a spot of momentary popularity with the Bluffwatchers, but that would blow over in time.

Liore's picture

Journal, August 20th

Liore sat on his bed, toes curled around the thick blue blanket that laid crumpled across it. His loft was dark and empty, only the lights of the Draenic rope lights and his bedside lantern to light the place in the late evening. Radiae snoozed beside him, gnawing on her knotted bunny in her sleep. His knees were bent, resting a book against his legs. A journal, to be more precise. A long Roc's quill was flipped between his robotic fingers, the joints giving off pleased whirs and clicks.

Kharris's picture

Scraps of paper, #2 -- 55 words

Players: 

Rowan, 37 weeks

Likes:
Strawberries--berries of any kind, actually. I'm going through pounds of them! I feel like a bloody bird!
Your father's voice--especially when he sings.
Hand-to-kidney combat--Ouch, hon. Ouch.



Dislikes:
Watermelon--I may never forgive you!
Sleeping at night—Sigh.
Butterscotch--... And here I thought the puking was over.

Kharris's picture

The Black Farthing -- Shattrath

Faction: 

The Black Farthing -- Farthing banner by Ghurab

 

(( This Sunday! 

At 5pm goblin server time and running until around 7pm server time, I'm guessing, I'll be opening the second  "Black Farthing" RP night at the World's End Tavern.

Pop by to say hi, pat Kharris's pregnant belly, and taunt her with the alcohol she can't drink.

 

Pages

Subscribe to RSS - Kharris