AirshipCircus

I'm actually not an actor. I know, how could I lie to you in my profile.

How dare I.

I must be a monster.

Truth is I "enjoy" acting. That being said, I also immensely enjoy writing. That, THAT, being said, my actual degree is in Graphic Design and Visual Communication. If you think about it, i'm just butter spread over too much bread aren't I? It's why i'm an introvert.
However, my introversion is hindered by my ability to sing. It wouldn't be a problem but everybody knows I can sing. But that's just a family genetics thing. Actually, singing is in our blood and people hate me for not using it. At least not using it as much as my brother, whose voice is like the majestic farting of angels. He could walk out of the house sing a few chords and BOOM, women will literally be hanging off him in seconds. That's generally not an issue though, because he's singing enough onstage. People ask me, "Isn't it so wonderful that you live with a person who can sing like that?" My response is always the same:
"Do you like chocolate?" I will politely ask. When they say yes, I reply:
"Would you like it if I came to your house every morning of every day for twenty years and shoved chocolate into your ears?"
That usually gets the point across. Don't get me wrong, I love my brother; but my bed sits right next to the wall separating my room and the shower. Maybe it's the acoustics of a toilet but sound CARRIES.

It's mind numbing.

Anyhoo, let's get to how I came to be here. Cue lights!
Dramatic pause...aaaaaaaand go.

The Beginning
*ahem* It was the final exam week of the last semester of this, my third year of college. A heavy storm had been buffeting against my apartment building for weeks now, crashing and booming like somebody upstairs in the clouds was having a serious fight with his neighbor over a lawnmower. Self-induced insomnia had set in, the time and date unknown to me as I had been studying at my desk for what felt like days; barely surviving off a steady diet of Twizzlers, Andes after-dinner mints and bad coffee. I had recently endured a break-up with my first and only girlfriend of five years so it had been a while since anyone in the outside world had seen me in person for longer than two minutes consecutively. I had also spent a lot of time away from the Thieves Guild and the Dawnguard because Serana's charmingly sarcastic demeanor reminded me too much of my ex and Brynjolf didn't seem to realize that asking me "How are things?" whenever I dropped in wasn't helping my state of mind. I had spent most of the time doing push ups or sitting in a computer chair that looked a lot like the captain's chair of the Enterprise.
Anyways, no sooner had I realized that I was reading the same paragraph about Shakespeare's lack of documented house payments for the third time that my mug burst into flame, taking with it all my damn coffee. But before I could properly plops my pants in fear, the trash bin sitting to my left began to rumble uncontrollably. Thinking that my constant sins of not wrapping up my chewed gum before throwing it into the bag had caught up with me, I could only watch in horror as the rumbling grew and grew. Suddenly, the bin's top shot off and dark purple smoke and mist erupted from the inside. At this point I was sure that whatever was happening, I was proper fluffed, and not in the fun way.
This sad realization was cut off by a hauntingly seductive voice that filled the room. "Do not be afraid..." it said. I sunk deeper into my chair, just barely able to see over the top of the trash bin at this point.

"I'm totally not afraid!" I replied nervously. It was true, I wasn't afraid. I was terrified. The voice laughed in such a manner that, I admit, pulled me towards the edge of "scaroused" a little more than i'd like to say. The voice continued, this time almost...sarcastic, maybe?

"Of course not, Leader of the Thieves Guild..." I gasped, quickly realizing my situation, and recognizing that eerily sultry voice. There was only one explanation...

"Lady Nocturnal? I'm on drugs, aren't I?" That must have been it. No other explanation. I quickly cursed my lack of foresight in keeping the coffee maker in the communal kitchen. Somebody probably slipped a bag of shrooms into the filter or...something. I slowly crept over to the bin, coughing and doing my best to brush away the ever growing purple smog now gently emanating from inside. I had just gotten my head over the tip on the hole when, suddenly, a great ball of smog and ravens erupted from the inside, throwing me back into my chair and knocking the wind right out of me.

"Long have you eluded my gaze, Nightingale. Long have you roamed freely with no great tribute or offering to the force responsible for your great success..." And there she was in all her scantily-clothed, pale-skinned beauty, adorned in shadow, ornamented in jet black crows or ravens or whatever, and staring at me with those deep yellow eyes...A man could lose himself in those eyes... *sigh*...

*cough* Sorry, I was somewhere else. On with the story.

I did my best not to stare. It had been a long time since I'd seen her after FINALLY returning the skeleton key. Guess she had been watching the Guild's progression after all. It was then I decided that, shrooms or not, I was just going to roll with this... I straightened up in my chair and put on my best "smouldering adventurer" face. I didn't even impress myself with that. I replied hastily, trying not to choke on the mist cascading about my dorm room. "My luck's just been a bit *cough* shallow of late is all. I'm just taking a vacation. Decided to travel a little. Maybe see Solstheim when I got back-" She placed a foot on the chair, right in between my legs. I immediately stopped talking and watched a wry smile form on her face as she slowly gestured to my laptop. I glanced at the computer screen to see Google Chrome opening and the URL bar filling with text. Before my very eyes, the homepage changed to that of Skyrim Forums and registered an account in the name "AirshipCircus" (my goto for usernames these days). I was stunned, and felt a finger under my chin turning my gaze back only to find myself face-to-face, eye-to-eye with Lady Nocturnal. She looked me up and down, gently brushed her finger past my chin down my chest and whispered into my ear:

"Now, you have no excuse to visit Skyrim... The Lady Nocturnal awaits your return...

I looked her right in the eyes and said with all the confidence I could muster... "I, uh, I...okay." She laughed her darkly seductive laugh and the purple smog began to quickly swirl around her, disappearing back into my trash bin before I could say "Jack Robinson". After a couple seconds of disbelief, I stood from my chair, brushed myself off, and went off to take a cold shower. I made sure to keep the dust bin as well. A gateway to Evergloam could come in handy.

So there it is, the reason i'm here. Lady Nocturnal has ordered me to once again take up the roleplaying quill like I had done so many years ago. What a friggin' tease.

What is a man? A miserable little pile of secrets! But enough talk… Have at you!
-The worst voice actor who ever tried to lend his chords to Dracula.