| 1 | |
GlennBurnie |
|
| Last talked: 21.7.2010 21:04 |
|
|
| Lines: 13277 |
| Days active: 464/2000 |
| Average lines per day: 29 |
| Average letters per line: 290 |
|
|
| Question ratio: 36% |
| Exclamation ratio: 5.4% |
|
|
| |
| | Weekly activity |
| Hourly activity |
| Number of nicks used: 2 |
| Likes chatting with: |
|
|
|
|
| Alastir |   |
| Catch |   |
| Carnath-Emory | |
| Tebrin | |
| Jynoriel | |
|
|
|
Recent activity
| 21.7.2010 21:02 | <GlennBurnie> Twisting her mind was likely far less honourable, to be honest, and he had ideas already for what her next give would be. It was something of an obsession now, to break her, to not just civilize her but to culture her. He'd have her dancing the most ornate dances within a few months time and be happy about it or else he'd have her leashed, one or the other. There was- |
| 21:03 | <GlennBurnie> no room for failure. And now, he took that last bite, before wiping his face off on the closest thing to him, the wicker basket, which didn't seem to be very effective at all. With a growl, he rose to his feet. "My thanks for your gift." He was quick to move. There was a very good chance he had to run somewhere and retch, not wishing to show it to her directly. "I desper..- |
| 21:04 | <GlennBurnie> I.." The words were coming difficultly now. He couldn't talk and hold it in all at once. Instead he spat, looking at her both pained and darkly. "My gift.. soon. Soon." At that, he was moving quickly (though still with the help of the cane) towards the kitchen door. Hopefully he would make all the way out and towards the lake before his stomach rebelled completely. |
|
| |
| |
| 2 | |
Carnath-Emory |
|
| Last talked: 11.8.2009 3:52 |
|
|
| Lines: 13276 |
| Days active: 322/2000 |
| Average lines per day: 41 |
| Average letters per line: 320 |
|
|
| Question ratio: 28% |
| Exclamation ratio: 5.4% |
|
|
| |
| | Weekly activity |
| Hourly activity |
| Number of nicks used: 2 |
| Likes chatting with: |
|
|
|
| Carnath-Emory | |
| Carnath_Emory | |
|
| Alastir | |
| Cinnabar | |
| GlennBurnie | |
| [Deost] | |
| Karie_Sandars | |
|
|
|
Recent activity
| 11.8.2009 3:51 | <Carnath-Emory> .. a flick of her fingertips towards him, towards herself. "This... *threat* back and forth; this *fight* back and forth. What comes of it? What comes that is worth *having* - " And she's pushing herself back from the railing then; has taken two steps towards the stairs when he speaks whispered words of which she thinks to comprehend... one. Perhaps one. Perhaps none at all, and quietly then: "He |
| 3:51 | <Carnath-Emory> -- my friend when I had none; me, with what my hands had done - " Some tiny shake of the head. "'n werthfawroca. You know this." Down these stairs, then; for the warhorse's dark bulk and when she turns it's for this moment's watch as: "I'd sooner call you friend than - " some |
| 3:52 | <Carnath-Emory> "I'd sooner call you friend than - " some encompassing wave of her hand "- this." The saddle, then; away. |
|
| |
| |
| 3 | |
Cinnabar |
|
| Last talked: 2.11.2008 21:36 |
|
|
| Lines: 7168 |
| Days active: 209/2000 |
| Average lines per day: 34 |
| Average letters per line: 321 |
|
|
| Question ratio: 33% |
| Exclamation ratio: 2.4% |
|
|
| |
| | Weekly activity |
| Hourly activity |
| Number of nicks used: 2 |
| Likes chatting with: |
|
|
|
|
| Carnath-Emory | |
| Kyra` | |
| GlennBurnie | |
| Maziani | |
|
|
|
Recent activity
| 2.11.2008 21:12 | <Cinnabar> "I prefer my apples pressed, to be honest." Speaking of which, there'll be some hunting around for cider before too long. He takes up a place beside Cambree meanwhile, an arm resting behind her back as he peruses the buffet for something to munch on. Oh, right, the mask - that gets lifted for the moment, now that the initial impression has been made. |
| 21:24 | <Cinnabar> It's an affectionate gesture, that arm round her back, and one which places fingertips within range of a certain bowl of highly-sought berries, it seems. Cambree's distraction at Daveney's costume is put to good use, with a few strawberries being snagged from their container. There's a cough at Rhaena's commentary, however, and a grimace. "Show some manners, please." |
| 21:36 | <Cinnabar> "Arguments are doubly so, Miss Olwak." Certainly there was little joy to be found in the altercation between the trader and the militia captain earlier on. A purloined strawberry is absently rolled between his fingers in Cambree's peripheral vision meanwhile, teasing just a little. There's a nod of agreement at that compliment to Daveney's outfit, also. |
|
| |
| |
| 4 | |
Treadwell |
|
| Last talked: 27.3.2010 10:28 |
|
|
| Lines: 5864 |
| Days active: 407/2000 |
| Average lines per day: 14 |
| Average letters per line: 223 |
|
|
| Question ratio: 42% |
| Exclamation ratio: 51% |
|
|
| |
| | Weekly activity |
| Hourly activity |
| Likes chatting with: |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Recent activity
| 27.3.2010 10:05 | <Treadwell> A few moments to regain his breath--winded by such a pompously blowhard expounding of titles and phrases--and Treadwell stares cluelessly at this horribly odd chap. "I. . . beg your pardon, mmph mmph" comes out a feeble whistle. |
| 10:17 | <Treadwell> "I'm afraid I don't understand you, lad, mmph mmph." Treadwell here fumbles about inside an inner pocket of his robe a moment, pulling out a Treadwellian-shaped flask of. . . something, which he wiggily reaches out to offer Catch despite his own thirst. "Here, m'boy, hmm hmm, have yourself a bit of ale, hmm?" |
| 10:28 | <Treadwell> "Grind their bones? Is that what they're calling 'collect their taxes' nowadays, mmph mmph?" Another shrug, another gurgled gulp of ale, and Treadwell starts plodding for the door, cane in hand, flask tucked closed and back in his robe, and hand on his aching and throbbing posterior area as he wobbles. |
|
| |
| |
| 5 | |
Rhaena |
|
| Last talked: 17.3.2010 2:52 |
|
|
| Lines: 5677 |
| Days active: 315/2000 |
| Average lines per day: 18 |
| Average letters per line: 229 |
|
|
| Question ratio: 34% |
| Exclamation ratio: 14% |
|
|
| |
| | Weekly activity |
| Hourly activity |
|
|
|
|
|
Recent activity
| 17.3.2010 2:38 | <Rhaena> She lowered the cup with no resistance, setting it carefully on the table. "Simple enough to tell him everything." Not that she hadn't already told him most - it was quite difficult to lie to her brother, and her heart wasn't in it. |
| 2:46 | <Rhaena> This whole idea made her nervous. She didn't think too closely about the reasons for that, though. First, talk to Kals. Then she could worry about the other things. "...No rush is good." She agreed after a moment. |
| 2:52 | <Rhaena> Or another chance to mess things up. The change in subject would be welcome. "No, I can't say that name is familiar." She glanced down and then back up. "Glenn, I do have work I need to take care of today. I really ought to." |
|
| |
| |
| 6 | |
Dulcie |
|
| Last talked: 15.3.2010 10:12 |
|
|
| Lines: 4459 |
| Days active: 211/2000 |
| Average lines per day: 21 |
| Average letters per line: 258 |
|
|
| Question ratio: 29% |
| Exclamation ratio: 1.7% |
|
|
| |
| | Weekly activity |
| Hourly activity |
| Likes chatting with: |
|
|
|
| GlennBurnie | |
|
|
|
Recent activity
| 15.3.2010 9:52 | <Dulcie> -- There was definitely some form of tension there. |
| 10:12 | <Dulcie> "Maybe I'll try it some time." It would happen to be at that moment that the same timid scullery maid came out to catch Dulcie by the sleeve. There would be some quiet words exchanged and Dulcie would turn to the others, offering an apologetic smile. "If you'll excuse me." And she'd head to the kitchen, leaving the frightened little thing in her place to tend to the needs of the bar. -- |
| 10:12 | <Dulcie> -- Rhaena's tea wouldn't be forgotten however, it'd come out a few minutes later after Dulcie had disappeare dinside the kitchen, not to be seen again any time soon. |
|
| |
| |
| 7 | |
Agnieszka |
|
| Last talked: 12.3.2010 14:08 |
|
|
| Lines: 3887 |
| Days active: 219/2000 |
| Average lines per day: 18 |
| Average letters per line: 275 |
|
|
| Question ratio: 36% |
| Exclamation ratio: 6.8% |
|
|
| |
| | Weekly activity |
| Hourly activity |
| Number of nicks used: 2 |
| Likes chatting with: |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Recent activity
| 12.3.2010 13:56 | <Agnieszka> She opens her mouth -- and she's trying to answer that question, she really is, but what comes out is a bit of a strange noise, an 'o' sound, and certainly not a word. She searches for a way to put it -- "I can't explain, I don't know how, but I *get* it now." She's grinning. |
| 14:01 | <Agnieszka> And Agnie would like to, certainly, but she's currently trying to bend words around impossible rules. "But you are looking better. You're smiling. That's good." |
| 14:08 | <Agnieszka> "Well, I won't be killing either of them, although Glenn's been an utter asshole lately. You spiking his drinks?" She tilts her head inquisitively. |
|
| |
| |
| 8 | |
Alastir |
|
| Last talked: 2.12.2007 17:04 |
|
|
| Lines: 2776 |
| Days active: 55/2000 |
| Average lines per day: 50 |
| Average letters per line: 291 |
|
|
| Question ratio: 29% |
| Exclamation ratio: 1.4% |
|
|
| |
| | Weekly activity |
| Hourly activity |
| Likes chatting with: |
|
|
|
| Carnath-Emory | |
| GlennBurnie | |
| Ignas`Demonsbane | |
| Malaroth | |
|
|
|
Recent activity
| 2.12.2007 16:59 | <Alastir> before. He offers a nod to her, before looking back at the others. |
| 17:04 | <Alastir> Though, Alastir looks at her hand a moment, and then her face. Blind, was it? He says nothing on that, reacts in no manner either. Nor does he take her hand. His hands are hidden by the too long sleeves of his undertunic and he's nto going to take her hand, for a long moment. He offers a nod with, "Like wise." Then rises a moment. "I shall see you soon, Glenn. It was nice to have met you." It... |
| 17:04 | <Alastir> much at the moment, and there's a creeping sensation inside. Too many people at present. And it's becoming more acute. It was time to rest. And so with a smile and then heads for the stair, post-haste. |
|
| |
| |
| 9 | |
Tebrin |
|
| Last talked: 26.10.2009 22:56 |
|
|
| Lines: 2452 |
| Days active: 111/2000 |
| Average lines per day: 22 |
| Average letters per line: 273 |
|
|
| Question ratio: 49% |
| Exclamation ratio: 7.1% |
|
|
| |
| | Weekly activity |
| Hourly activity |
| Likes chatting with: |
|
|
|
| GlennBurnie | |
|
|
|
Recent activity
| 26.10.2009 22:41 | <Tebrin> "...Don't go after it." **There was something odd to the way he said that, something deadly serious, something that forestalled his hand from so much as touching Catch.** |
| 22:55 | <Tebrin> "...Yeh. Ok. S'fine. You get it in yer head t'do somethin' stupid... you come find me." **He wouldn't let Glenn chase something like that alone, particularly when neither he nor Rhaena were in any... IMMEDIATE danger. He seemed relieved by the change in heart, his shoulders relaxed, he let out a bit of a sigh. Stooping, he grabs up the crossbow.** "...Y'owe me a drink fer ruinin' my shot." -- |
| 22:56 | <Tebrin> **This, grumbled a bit bitterly, but that hand found time to grab Catch by his shirt - unless he moved - and haul him to the bar WITH the crossbow. None too gently. if Catch squirmed away, he simply left him where he was.** "...Say hi t'Rhaena." |
|
| |
| |
| 10 | |
Duquesne |
|
| Last talked: 5.2.2010 19:21 |
|
|
| Lines: 2410 |
| Days active: 110/2000 |
| Average lines per day: 22 |
| Average letters per line: 323 |
|
| |
|
| |
| | Weekly activity |
| Hourly activity |
| Likes chatting with: |
|
|
|
| Carnath-Emory | |
|
|
|
Recent activity
| 5.2.2010 19:12 | <Duquesne> I must return to Aithne. He reaches for his brimmed hat, not a wide one by any means but of a particular style nonetheless. An expensive style. He was filthy most of the time these days, but it didn't keep him from being a little vain. He found humor in it. Visit me there. Soon. There is much more to speak of. |
| 19:17 | <Duquesne> The architect is chuckling, the sound ever effected by the mysterious rasp in the texture of his voice. Meanwhile, his hat is settled upon his head, canted to the right and with distinguishment drawn low upon his brow. He extends his hand to the mapmaker. Agreed. The responsibility is mine. Farewell, Mister Burnie. |
| 19:21 | <Duquesne> As shall I. With hands shaken, he nods somewhat to the young man and then turns, carrying himself to the door and through it. |
|
| |
| |
Nick |
Lines Written |
Random Quote |
| 1 |
Carnath-Emory |
 530 |
"... Suffice to say that she is a curious blend of tiredness and ease, this creature who's finally returning
to the tavern this evening -- which perhaps goes to show that adversity really *is* the fuel on which
she thrives. That she lingers for so long on its darkened porch is testament for her dislike of crowds.." |
| 2 |
Khalika |
433 |
"walk, he uses to vanish....Could you dowhat you do to see if that exoerience left any ill side effects.
For I could be wrong, But it is doubtful humans were meant to travel in such a way.... She was
calming now...and looking at him.... Have you yet to regrett staying here?.. Here as in Myrken...." |
| 3 |
Lessa_HarpWind |
210 |
"... better on a chilly night. Ok...maybe hot cocoa. She loved both! ..." |
| 4 |
Dabria |
125 |
"Her Prince...Holding a child..Tenderness....Her logic knew it was practiced, like all his gestured.
but her radical and wild imagination screamed.... Emotion and spite...Betrayed to a child?!...Why
must you cut so?... the door slams with her weight as she falls back...shock..and perhaps in grief..." |
| 5 |
Karie_Sandars |
117 |
"A glance to the young girl, then to Dulcie--who she recognized. "Oh, hey there, Dulcie." A
smile before the Elementalist moved for the bar slowly.." |
| 6 |
Melantha |
91 |
"... old sword dangling at her waist, she adjusted it so she could sit comfortably on the stool she
slid onto. What was a woman who couldn't be more than 5'7 doing with a sword normally issued
out to Knights? Why have one that was so old? Why wasn't it rusted and corroding to dust? ..." |
| 7 |
Sarayn |
80 |
"-- , the singular word of, "Continue.." snaking from her elegantly dark throat. At this
juncture, the Governor had her undivided attention.." |
| 8 |
Eleanora |
77 |
"Again she nods, one to remain quiet when she didn't have too much to say. Though as she regards
Karx a bit longer, she rolls her eyes and just shakes her head. "I have a tendency not to stick
around places where I find some fools linger." Nodding in the man's direction before glancing..." |
| 9 |
Nicole`Saterlee |
75 |
""Sounds easy, but nothing is every THAT easy." Grins and sits up slowly, motioning
toward the door. "Want to get going to get that job done? You have to get some sleep eventually
, so you can't just stay out too late." Stands up and slowly wraps her cloak around herself..." |
| 10 |
Donovan |
70 |
"... in the past. Maybe Donovan felt that he owed something to the man. Maybe he did. ..." |
| 11 |
Porcelain |
67 |
"... hurried back over to it once her task was done, reaching to take those things from him, and
set them aside, as well. Now, she stood before the man, a tiny, girlish creature, budding youthfully
into young womanhood. - Just as she had been two years ago, when she let 'this side' be shown...." |
| 12 |
Quincy |
66 |
"she bends slightly, with the intention of dumping Lamai onto the couch - depositing her there, with
what panicked gentleness she can muster, streaks of glittering lifestuff on her face and clothes.." |
| 13 |
Elil |
64 |
"... ..for she did not entirely feel comfortable making noise all the way home in the dark. Head lifted
, eyes gazing at the window as she lost herself in thought. "I would have to say that my
shift was over about an hour ago. Perhaps longer. I lost track of time." In other words..it was..." |
| 14 |
Rhys`Sebastian |
59 |
""The people are just slow." ::Rhys said, sarcastically from the counter. He spoke very
precisely every letter that was supposed to be pronounced was and fully. It held a very educated
tone to it, despite how deep it was. The man lifted the mask from his face, a giant scar itself, a..." |
| 15 |
Elspeth |
54 |
"-- them with some gift that the government will take back if the constable decides to run off. You
've got plenty of farmland, for example." Can you get lost in the rhythm of bashing blades
, the clash of wooden swords? She's hoping he's lost a bit of concentration, that her words force..." |
464