Findlefiend
04-15-06, 06:49 PM
My last registration vanished for some reason... Posting a-gain! :)
Name: Salmon Wellington
Age: Two
Race: Giant salmon (cooked)
Hair Color: N/A
Eye Color: Black
Height: 4 feet
Weight: 100 lbs
Occupation: Philosopher/dish of food
Personality: He's very fond of expounding upon his half-baked philosophies to anyone within earshot. Although he's never been a good dancer, he's been able to whistle flawlessly since his childhood. He maintains a collection of bottled ships that, despite endless and enthusiastic praise from his few fans, only receives mixed reviews in Radasanthian collectors' magazines. Salmon enjoys a good game of poker and can swing a cricket bat as well as any fish, but often must abstain from cards since pipe smoke sends him into coughing fits. He is certain he is not a Velociraptor and has an anachronistic knowledge of the workings of time travel, but currently possesses no such device to test his theories. Salmon has a soft spot for wood.
Appearance: Salmon is a giant walking, talking dish of Salmon Wellington (a dish of salmon fillets and delectable fillings cooked inside of a pastry.) The chef who prepared his body, however, was far from a master. His skin was never peeled and he was poorly cooked, so he appears as a giant fish partially wrapped in a baked pastry. Odd bits of stuffing, such as mushrooms and vegetables, often fall out of the pastry. He walks upright on his tail and, with the exception of his pastry, wears nothing but a monocle, a red scarf, and a beret from his youthful revolutionary days in the militia. Since walking is often difficult, he carries a cane of balsawood from Concordia.
History: Shortly after his birth, Salmon swam around the sea. He swam past a large group of rocks that seemed to house a variety of fish. After a long period of internal debate, he decided that this would be a bad idea. His mother had always cautioned him about the fish that lived amongst the rocks, and even though he desired to listen to the glorious power-chords of their young garage bands, he did not visit them. He swam on. It would have been against what he had been taught by his parents in fish school, in the hallowed halls of his fish church where he first learned of space travel.
The reverend was a former aeronaut who had traveled to the great worlds beyond during the Skeelskipper Wars, and though a godly man, he was also a man of science, a man of thought. He took Salmon under his wings and taught him of the dreams of tomorrow. Someday, he cautioned, their kind would be threatened by a calamitous device called the ski lift. He was truly a prophet indeed, for he foresaw the great stock market crash that would plunge the undersea into an era of anarchy and chaos--thus allowing him to live off the fat of his jellyfish farm while he kicked Salmon out into the cold.
It was here that he met a young orange named Penelope. She told him of her dream to one day grow wings and fly. Salmon confessed that he had just spent much of his youth with a famous reverend aeronaut and suggested that they spend time talking of flight and all the tea parties that their kinds would make possible one day in that distant blue sky, if they could only put aside their differences. Theirs was a forbidden love. The government had prohibited inter-marriage between fish and fruit since the time of the long night when the eel nannies served as care-taker dictators for the ailing horned king of the under island. Eventually they were found out and Penelope was exiled to a penal colony. Salmon was given lashings.
Salmon swam further away. And one day he was captured and cooked and took to traveling the world of Althanas with a talking tricycle named Death. If my history eludes you, stay tuned! All will be revealed in time.
Magic: Non Sequitur - Salmon makes something about his current situation not make sense with the events that had preceded it--for instance, a group of peasants could become a gaggle of bawdy, racist geese or a copse of trees could turn into a distillery run by gentle fairies. He cannot affect anyone participating in a thread or their NPCs directly. Usable only once per battle or once per every ten posts/one page in a quest.
Possessions: His familiar, a talking, sad tricycle named Death that he drags behind him with a string of purple ribbon. Death has never spoken in much else besides the same two or three bad philosophical clichés, said over and over. Salmon also possesses a brightly colored kite and lots of string.
P.S. - Would it be possible for me to earn negative EXP? Like, when a mod says I earn a certain amount of EXP, I get it deducted from my total? And to earn negative levels?
Name: Salmon Wellington
Age: Two
Race: Giant salmon (cooked)
Hair Color: N/A
Eye Color: Black
Height: 4 feet
Weight: 100 lbs
Occupation: Philosopher/dish of food
Personality: He's very fond of expounding upon his half-baked philosophies to anyone within earshot. Although he's never been a good dancer, he's been able to whistle flawlessly since his childhood. He maintains a collection of bottled ships that, despite endless and enthusiastic praise from his few fans, only receives mixed reviews in Radasanthian collectors' magazines. Salmon enjoys a good game of poker and can swing a cricket bat as well as any fish, but often must abstain from cards since pipe smoke sends him into coughing fits. He is certain he is not a Velociraptor and has an anachronistic knowledge of the workings of time travel, but currently possesses no such device to test his theories. Salmon has a soft spot for wood.
Appearance: Salmon is a giant walking, talking dish of Salmon Wellington (a dish of salmon fillets and delectable fillings cooked inside of a pastry.) The chef who prepared his body, however, was far from a master. His skin was never peeled and he was poorly cooked, so he appears as a giant fish partially wrapped in a baked pastry. Odd bits of stuffing, such as mushrooms and vegetables, often fall out of the pastry. He walks upright on his tail and, with the exception of his pastry, wears nothing but a monocle, a red scarf, and a beret from his youthful revolutionary days in the militia. Since walking is often difficult, he carries a cane of balsawood from Concordia.
History: Shortly after his birth, Salmon swam around the sea. He swam past a large group of rocks that seemed to house a variety of fish. After a long period of internal debate, he decided that this would be a bad idea. His mother had always cautioned him about the fish that lived amongst the rocks, and even though he desired to listen to the glorious power-chords of their young garage bands, he did not visit them. He swam on. It would have been against what he had been taught by his parents in fish school, in the hallowed halls of his fish church where he first learned of space travel.
The reverend was a former aeronaut who had traveled to the great worlds beyond during the Skeelskipper Wars, and though a godly man, he was also a man of science, a man of thought. He took Salmon under his wings and taught him of the dreams of tomorrow. Someday, he cautioned, their kind would be threatened by a calamitous device called the ski lift. He was truly a prophet indeed, for he foresaw the great stock market crash that would plunge the undersea into an era of anarchy and chaos--thus allowing him to live off the fat of his jellyfish farm while he kicked Salmon out into the cold.
It was here that he met a young orange named Penelope. She told him of her dream to one day grow wings and fly. Salmon confessed that he had just spent much of his youth with a famous reverend aeronaut and suggested that they spend time talking of flight and all the tea parties that their kinds would make possible one day in that distant blue sky, if they could only put aside their differences. Theirs was a forbidden love. The government had prohibited inter-marriage between fish and fruit since the time of the long night when the eel nannies served as care-taker dictators for the ailing horned king of the under island. Eventually they were found out and Penelope was exiled to a penal colony. Salmon was given lashings.
Salmon swam further away. And one day he was captured and cooked and took to traveling the world of Althanas with a talking tricycle named Death. If my history eludes you, stay tuned! All will be revealed in time.
Magic: Non Sequitur - Salmon makes something about his current situation not make sense with the events that had preceded it--for instance, a group of peasants could become a gaggle of bawdy, racist geese or a copse of trees could turn into a distillery run by gentle fairies. He cannot affect anyone participating in a thread or their NPCs directly. Usable only once per battle or once per every ten posts/one page in a quest.
Possessions: His familiar, a talking, sad tricycle named Death that he drags behind him with a string of purple ribbon. Death has never spoken in much else besides the same two or three bad philosophical clichés, said over and over. Salmon also possesses a brightly colored kite and lots of string.
P.S. - Would it be possible for me to earn negative EXP? Like, when a mod says I earn a certain amount of EXP, I get it deducted from my total? And to earn negative levels?