I noticed that our OCs are posted in the comments. I suggest we repost them here in this thread for better organization before we end up getting lost in the sauce.
My name is Tiamat. I live a pretty average life, avoiding all human contact unless absolutely necessary to my survival. I spend pretty much all my time in the Nevermore Clocktower (Nevermore being the name of the town I live in) and just...tinker away at clockwork and gears. However...that all changes when I sense a...disturbance. When I go to investigate, I find something straight from a fairy tale; a unicorn.
Conor Brenon more commonly known as "Crackers". My life was simple, I'd run guns, drugs, people, or whatever for my boss and he wouldn't break my kneecaps. It was a great deal. Of course I did get addicted to the product I was running, the Italian mob hated all us Irish, and the local law didn't like us either. There's only been one rule for me and that's stay alive no matter what. I'm not too proud to try anything to survive. I may not be brave but at least I'm breathing. That worked well, until my last run ran afoul of everyone who ever hated me. Now somehow I've found myself in a strange land with either a talking marshmallow or a talking miniature horse , who is obsessed with fashion,neatness, and generosity....oh yeah and I don't have a single ounce of glit on me. I'm doomed.
Whom might I be' you ask? Alex Geen. That's Geen, not Green. Anyway, I'm a rather relaxed guy, go-with-the-flow and all that jazz. But that doesn't mean I'm lazy or don't care about anything, far from it. I'm actually a pretty active person. So that's basically all you need to know about me. Oh yeah and I take martial arts so advanced that I have something of a sixth sense and can project short wave chi balsts. So yeah, other than that, everything's normal. Until now, do to events still beyond my comprehension, I'm stuck with a tiny horse. That's blue. With a rainbow mane... That has wings... And she talks. Right. But hey, the bright side to this weird turn of events is that she's pretty cool.
My OC. (May undergo Edits.) The name's Lance. I'm 24 years of age. Out of a small town called Dodge, In the middle of Iowa (such a hole in the wall huh?) Anyways, My parents own a farm, I lived there up until I was about 15. On my 15th birthday I got right up and left. I couldn't stand it anymore. (Don't get me wrong, I love the country and getting up early, and... Who am I kidding? I loved that farm but I couldn't stand my god awful parents) Well. I'm your Run-of-the-mill farmboy. 6"1, 205 pounds, and built like a brick wall. I've still got the "Midwest-southern accent" from time-to-time when I get angry, but only really then. What can I say? Old habits never die without a fight, am I right? I currently reside living in the City of Seattle, Washington. I'm a teacher. History to be exact. Graduated from Brown university. I've got a fine job, a nice apartment and everything is just alright. Any-who, I'm not anything really special, unless you think ex-farmkids and nobody's are just fine-and-dandy.
596024 You think yours is short? heres mine: My name is Drake Donners, not that anyone calls me that anymore. My power has always left me the outcast. No i am The Loner and all i want is peace. Is it that bad for me to want to be left alone. Yet here i am walking with a hyperactive pony who doesnt know the meaning of silence. She woudnt be so kind if she knew what i can do, what i am. Shell just get hurt.
I noticed that our OCs are posted in the comments. I suggest we repost them here in this thread for better organization before we end up getting lost in the sauce.
Dat Merc's gotta point. So, here's mine
My name is Tiamat. I live a pretty average life, avoiding all human contact unless absolutely necessary to my survival. I spend pretty much all my time in the Nevermore Clocktower (Nevermore being the name of the town I live in) and just...tinker away at clockwork and gears. However...that all changes when I sense a...disturbance. When I go to investigate, I find something straight from a fairy tale; a unicorn.
Hmm...mine seems shorter than the other OC stuff
My OC
Conor Brenon more commonly known as "Crackers". My life was simple, I'd run guns, drugs, people, or whatever for my boss and he wouldn't break my kneecaps. It was a great deal. Of course I did get addicted to the product I was running, the Italian mob hated all us Irish, and the local law didn't like us either. There's only been one rule for me and that's stay alive no matter what. I'm not too proud to try anything to survive. I may not be brave but at least I'm breathing. That worked well, until my last run ran afoul of everyone who ever hated me. Now somehow I've found myself in a strange land with either a talking marshmallow or a talking miniature horse , who is obsessed with fashion,neatness, and generosity....oh yeah and I don't have a single ounce of glit on me. I'm doomed.
My OC*
Whom might I be' you ask? Alex Geen. That's Geen, not Green. Anyway, I'm a rather relaxed guy, go-with-the-flow and all that jazz. But that doesn't mean I'm lazy or don't care about anything, far from it. I'm actually a pretty active person. So that's basically all you need to know about me. Oh yeah and I take martial arts so advanced that I have something of a sixth sense and can project short wave chi balsts. So yeah, other than that, everything's normal.
Until now, do to events still beyond my comprehension, I'm stuck with a tiny horse. That's blue. With a rainbow mane... That has wings... And she talks. Right.
But hey, the bright side to this weird turn of events is that she's pretty cool.
*Slight changes done
My OC. (May undergo Edits.)
The name's Lance. I'm 24 years of age. Out of a small town called Dodge, In the middle of Iowa (such a hole in the wall huh?) Anyways, My parents own a farm, I lived there up until I was about 15. On my 15th birthday I got right up and left. I couldn't stand it anymore. (Don't get me wrong, I love the country and getting up early, and... Who am I kidding? I loved that farm but I couldn't stand my god awful parents) Well. I'm your Run-of-the-mill farmboy. 6"1, 205 pounds, and built like a brick wall. I've still got the "Midwest-southern accent" from time-to-time when I get angry, but only really then. What can I say? Old habits never die without a fight, am I right? I currently reside living in the City of Seattle, Washington. I'm a teacher. History to be exact. Graduated from Brown university. I've got a fine job, a nice apartment and everything is just alright. Any-who, I'm not anything really special, unless you think ex-farmkids and nobody's are just fine-and-dandy.
596024
You think yours is short? heres mine:
My name is Drake Donners, not that anyone calls me that anymore. My power has always left me the outcast. No i am The Loner and all i want is peace. Is it that bad for me to want to be left alone. Yet here i am walking with a hyperactive pony who doesnt know the meaning of silence. She woudnt be so kind if she knew what i can do, what i am. Shell just get hurt.