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What Do You Look Like?


Guest Cognizantastic

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Guest Cognizantastic

It'd be cool to put a face to some Sharders. Descriptions over pictures, as I understand why many would find it uncomfortable to post a picture of oneself on the internet, even on a safe place like this ; I feel the same way.

I am a somewhat short male of average weight with extremely dark brown hair, brown eyes, and caramel-ish skin. I'm Costa Rican and Filipino, or Costapino, though my facial structure does not adhere to either ethnicity's defined standards. (Although, in the case of Costa Ricans, there isn't really much of a standard anyway.) I have a small nose and average sized other facial features, which are spaced in an unexciting, standard fashion. I also have very long fingers and toes.

As long as you're comfortable, what about you?

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I am Male. With hair, teeth, and eyes. I have been called albino. I am not big-boned. My face is good. I am not foreign. My eyes may or may not be windrunner eyes, and hair could be called a color that is darker than blonde.

 

That's all you're getting from me :ph34r:

 

Good "Luck"

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Interesting thread... I sometimes wonder how people imagine I look... I kinda tend to make myself a personal image of the other forumers which may or may not be representative of how they truly look.... 

 

Chouta, in my head, you were a burrito  :ph34r: somehow I think Costa Rican fits with it  :ph34r:

 

Kobold... this is so strange as I did picture you as a dragon once  :ph34r:

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I'm tall.

 

Like, really, really, really tall. No, I don't play basketball. Yes, the weather is fine up here.  <_<

 

White.

 

Probably could use a diet. :P

 

Brown hair.

 

Eyes that are just that one shade that makes it impossible to tell if I'd be lighteyed or darkeyed. Probably darkeyed.

Edited by Slowswift
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Guest Cognizantastic

I am the space dragon.

I am the epic serpent. I am the length that coils around creation. My scales are black as the void between stars, and in my eyes shimmer the lights of a billion galaxies. My fangs are light years long, their roots wider than solar systems and their points sharper than atoms. To stare into my face is to stare into eternity.

In my foremost claw I hold a planet pinched between my claws, a tiny blue green sphere I found as a newly hatched space dragon. I hold it up to my cosmic eye, peering down at the tiny little creatures that crawl about its surface. For thousands of years I watched them bicker and war amongst each other. I saw hatred and ugliness in their hearts. At times I considered flicking the little blue pebble into its sun, to cleanse its filthy people with nuclear fire.

But each time I tried I stayed my claw, convinced by some nagging in the back of my infinite mind to let them live another century.

Another age, it pleaded. Give them another age, and they will show you beauty.

And so I waited. The millennia passed like ticks of a clock to my all-encompassing eyes, but to my weary view it seemed to last forever. It seemed all the little primates ever did was fight and torment one another. In one age they learned to cultivate fields and forge steel, and immediately turned on their less advanced neighbors. In another age they crossed one of the great oceans of their world, only to slaughter their kin on the other side. In the latest age, they discovered how to split atoms themselves, and immediately utilized the god-like energy they'd produced to murder entire cities.

I tired of their senseless violence. Ignoring the pleading voice in my mind I lifted the world on high, determined to fling it into a nether-dimension and have it consumed by the flame-hounds for all eternity.

But in the last moment before I could destroy the speck, I saw a single beautiful glimmer of light from its surface.

It was a single witty primate with a story to tell.

I watched in awe as he hatched a vision of the cosmos, an epic story arc that told the tale of gods and magic and lost forlorn spirits. I watched in admiration as he put that vision on paper, in stories that made me laugh, cry, and love. I, who had watched stars burn at the end of their lives--I, who had watched entire galaxies grow cold--I, who had watched the universe itself be born in a fiery explosion at the Beginning of all things... was impressed.

The microscopic primate had impressed the great space dragon.

Though to my eyes the life of a star seemed only to take a second, the infinitesimal ticks of time in between his novels were far too long for my liking. So for the first time, I deigned to speak to the little primates. Because they, like myself, were impressed with the witty one's writing, and were eager to discuss the wonder of his words. My forked tongue, an ethereal force transposed over the fabric of reality, graced the servers of their Internet and began to Speak.

Earthlings, rejoice! Sing in praise of the primate that tamed the Dragon. Sing in praise of the primate that saved his world from the one who felt it held no merit. Sing not of your wars and petty bickering, but of the basic creativity that's kindled in every one of you, waiting to be unleashed.

When you look at the sky, see not the great space dragon, but see reflected in my eyes the beauty of your species. And rejoice.

Ooookay I have no idea where all that came from. The truth is, I'm a hairy, dusty teenager with no redeeming physical characteristics. The space dragon is way cooler. : P

How long did it take you to write that? It was awesome. :D Edited by Chouta Connoisseur
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Pale skin, red hair, freckles...Scotch-Irish heritage much?  Though my nose is a decidedly English thing, with a slight snub on the end of it.  Round face, and eyes that cannot make up their mind whether they're blue or grey or green.  I am a bit fluffy; I could stand to lose a couple stone, but I am incapable of depriving myself of tasty things, so it's more a matter of increasing my activity.  (Now that the move is done, it's time to crack out the bicycles and go explore our new neighborhood's bike trails.)

 

And my terrible, terrible secret...I am a natural ginger, but it's not red enough, so I enhance it with henna.  The contrast in colors actually makes my roots look blonde when they grow out long enough.  Every time this happens, I have to go back to look at old pictures of myself from before the henna to reassure myself that yes, my hair really DID look distinctly red in the sun.

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I am the space dragon. 

 

I am the epic serpent. I am the length that coils around creation. My scales are black as the void between stars, and in my eyes shimmer the lights of a billion galaxies. My fangs are light years long, their roots wider than solar systems and their points sharper than atoms. To stare into my face is to stare into eternity.

 

In my foremost claw I hold a planet pinched between my claws, a tiny blue green sphere I found as a newly hatched space dragon. I hold it up to my cosmic eye, peering down at the tiny little creatures that crawl about its surface. For thousands of years I watched them bicker and war amongst each other. I saw hatred and ugliness in their hearts. At times I considered flicking the little blue pebble into its sun, to cleanse its filthy people with nuclear fire.

 

But each time I tried I stayed my claw, convinced by some nagging in the back of my infinite mind to let them live another century.

 

Another age, it pleaded. Give them another age, and they will show you beauty.

 

And so I waited. The millennia passed like ticks of a clock to my all-encompassing eyes, but to my weary view it seemed to last forever. It seemed all the little primates ever did was fight and torment one another. In one age they learned to cultivate fields and forge steel, and immediately turned on their less advanced neighbors. In another age they crossed one of the great oceans of their world, only to slaughter their kin on the other side. In the latest age, they discovered how to split atoms themselves, and immediately utilized the god-like energy they'd produced to murder entire cities.

 

I tired of their senseless violence. Ignoring the pleading voice in my mind I lifted the world on high, determined to fling it into a nether-dimension and have it consumed by the flame-hounds for all eternity.

 

But in the last moment before I could destroy the speck, I saw a single beautiful glimmer of light from its surface.

 

It was a single witty primate with a story to tell.

 

I watched in awe as he hatched a vision of the cosmos, an epic story arc that told the tale of gods and magic and lost forlorn spirits. I watched in admiration as he put that vision on paper, in stories that made me laugh, cry, and love. I, who had watched stars burn at the end of their lives--I, who had watched entire galaxies grow cold--I, who had watched the universe itself be born in a fiery explosion at the Beginning of all things... was impressed.

 

The microscopic primate had impressed the great space dragon.

 

Though to my eyes the life of a star seemed only to take a second, the infinitesimal ticks of time in between his novels were far too long for my liking. So for the first time, I deigned to speak to the little primates. Because they, like myself, were impressed with the witty one's writing, and were eager to discuss the wonder of his words. My forked tongue, an ethereal force transposed over the fabric of reality, graced the servers of their Internet and began to Speak.

 

 

Earthlings, rejoice! Sing in praise of the primate that tamed the Dragon. Sing in praise of the primate that saved his world from the one who felt it held no merit. Sing not of your wars and petty bickering, but of the basic creativity that's kindled in every one of you, waiting to be unleashed.

 

When you look at the sky, see not the great space dragon, but see reflected in my eyes the beauty of your species. And rejoice.

 

 

 

 

Ooookay I have no idea where all that came from. The truth is, I'm a hairy, dusty teenager with no redeeming physical characteristics. The space dragon is way cooler.   : P

*roll my eyes*

 

ALL kobolds think of themselves as majestic dragons.

 

All of my hair has migrated to the wrong end of my head. I've inherited my maternal line's hair turning red as I get older, though all I have is my beard, so it's sparsely red, mostly brown. I keep forgetting I have freckles. I wear stylish glasses. I am probably two feet shorter than Slowswift, but at least two feet taller than Kobold King.

 

I am caucasian, bloodline hailing from mostly Germany, Scotland, and France, though lots of other places in there.

 

No, I don't even lift, bro, but I'm certain I can lift you.

Edited by Turos
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The word garbage actually originally meant viscera, so you might want to rethink your description, unless you look like guts 'n stuff.

 

Well, technically, we all do.  If you're looking on the inside.

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If I may disagree? A zombie after a Tough Mudder race is a trash pile. I'm sure you look fine.  :)

 

...and besides, if anyone looks like a garbage pile it's me.

  

Hey! Watch what you say; that's my friend you're talking about. ;):)

  

The word garbage actually originally meant viscera, so you might want to rethink your description, unless you look like guts 'n stuff.

Original comment still stands.

Fine I'm not garbage I'm trash queen quality trash

There's even bad stock photos of me woow

stock-photo-gold-trash-can-58111018.jpg

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Burning red eyes, tall hunched over posture, pale skin from lurking in dark alleys, long nimble fingers for spiking with...

Well maybe not the red eyes but the rest is more or less accurate.
I'm six and a half foot tall which is way less fun than you'd think it is, naturally I'm relatively tanned although years of never going outside have enhanced what I like to call my dungeon tan to pale whiteness. I have green eyes and a somewhat scraggly beard because I'm too lazy to shave most days and I have incredibly short fingernails because I pick them when I get nervous and I have an anxiety problem which means I get nervous a lot.

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You know that supremely tall dude that wears the trench coat and fedora in all those movies? No not that one, the other one. The one with the long, flowing blond hair and deep blue eyes? Yeah! Him!

 

Well, I look nothing like him. ;)  :ph34r:

Edited by The Crooked Warden
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I'm a Filipino of average build and height. Many non-Chinese people I know say I look Chinese, which Chinese people will adamantly deny. I've also been called Japanese-looking, though a friend who worked in Japan told me I'm not. I guess I just have a vaguely oriental face.

I inherited my father's prematurely receding hairline and my mother's prematurely greying hair, both of which I solved by just shaving my head. I also have a weak chin, which I solved by growing a beard.

 

So basically I look like a vaguely oriental thug with glasses.

Edited by skaa
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