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    • AndalayBay

      Orphan Attachments   07/31/2018

      I have been doing some housekeeping lately and I've noticed that I had a lot of orphaned attachments. Attachments get orphaned when the PM or post is deleted without removing the attachment first. Deleting a PM or post does not delete the attachment and the file or image remain on the server. I'd like to ask all members to go through their attachments and delete any attachments you don't need anymore or those that have been orphaned. Where can I get a list of my attachments? Click on your display name in the upper right corner of the forums and pick "My Attachments" from the drop-down list. How can I tell an attachment is orphaned? If the PM has been deleted, you'll see a message like this in your attachment list: Unfortunately there is no message if the post has been deleted, so please check your old posts. We do purge old birthday threads every once in a while. Also some hosted projects have been shut down, so you may have orphaned attachments on one of those locations. Thanks!

laxon

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About laxon

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    Calamari

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  1. Edited Site

    Yup everything is fine. I will edit the text when I have a moment.
  2. Edited Site

    Just did a really quick site revamp. I don't think the heavy Joomla setup is necessary, so I made a basic landing page for anyone who stumbles on it. If anyone has a moment I would love someone to reword the two paragraphs, I just put them together as filler. http://theinn.modcraft.net/ Hope you like the simple layout. Also if none of you have used or abused the inn keep character, please feel free to roleplay him as needed. As it is obvious that I have a severe commitment phobia o.o O/
  3. Inn Art

    o.o
  4. Inn Motivational Thread

    A changeling/doppelganger
  5. The Inn Trope List

    Yes, I can mix liquids together! Should I? I like mixing things... <.< >.>
  6. The Inn Trope List

    -mussst resissst-
  7. The Inn Trope List

    Whenever YOU talk about it xD I just don't want to get sucked in.
  8. The Inn Trope List

    Yeah I have not seen most of them. -feels slightly better-
  9. The Inn Trope List

    And I cant believe there is the inn between worlds tag D: I almost feel unoriginal now
  10. The Inn Trope List

    oooo would be cool.
  11. Will rename in the end.

    Sartorius leaped out of bed at that time, the new smells of breakfast seeping through the cracks in the door. He has had this moment too many times to let it keep getting to him. When reality comes it will come. Closing the slightly opened windows into the garden outside he stared out at the flowers for a brief moment. Like a thousand little eyes they stared back, as if waiting for him to do something. He got dressed. The door creaked open and the familiar hard edged face of temper peered in. "Ah I see you are ready." he said in a jolly tone. "Well after I tell her not to wake me and she breaks that promise you know what happens, she has the mind of a fleeting humming bird." Sartorius spoke with no blame in his tone. He was stating the obvious, as usual. "Ah, then why do you bother keeping this bird inside?" Temper mockingly replied. "Is the breakfast ready yet? I am starving." Sartorius already answered that question on numerous occasions, and when Tempers voice was far more serious. Temper opened the door, stepped to one side and with an exaggerated bow of a servant motioned toward the small steps that lead to the common room. "Sir, yes sir!" They went downstairs and ate. Temper outdid himself as usual. Afterwards he said something about going to meet with a guild and walked out without answering the blank stares. "Teressa, I am going to go to the market. Do you feel like coming along?" Sartorius asked as he peeled a fruit with a small knife. She shook her had saying no. "Today my meditation starts, I am going to go and prepare." Ah how could he forget, she did this every month. Two days of contemplation, we even have a silent room prepared just for her. Sartorius nodded, and excused himself. He walked outside barefooted, wearing nothing but a loose shirt, pants and his purse. The street before him was empty with just a few close residences sharing it. There was a small open gate a few meters ahead where the street met a public town road. He could see people and carts moving about. The two guards that were stationed at the gate nodded to him as he passed into the busier street. It was like walking into an audience hall, the sounds hit him all at once. People, animals. It was almost overwhelming if it was his first time here. Instead he smiled, took a deep breath and started weaving his way through the crowd. The smells that hit him were placed on the entire scale, from the horrid to the wonderful. The heavy and sweet fragrances of perfumes from passing by carriages, mixing with the sweat of workers and animals as they moved around the goods. The strange smells of bitter herbs drying on wide windowsills and trays, pairing with the scent of fresh fruit nearby. It is an incredible concoction, just like the people around him. Although he didn't recognize any of the faces or most of the wares passing him by, all together everything seemed familiar. Like a single, never changing entity. It was that entity that he has been studying for a few years now, it was the reason why he was in this city in the first place. Crowds have finally become of interest to public officials, crowd behavior and economics. Such dull subjects to most individuals in the crowds he studied. But fascinating when put in action. And in this city his principles and findings were already in full force. Three years ago he wouldn't dare walk down a street with an open shirt and a purse hanging by a leather strand at his waist. And yet today he could do it without even holding on to it. What he didn't put in any of his findings is how things don't last. Eventually this state will collapse, and he will beblamed. Unless of course a chaotic event could be laced on the threshold, something unforeseen and unheard of. Ah! The schemes and plots, eventually they will be his downfall. "Eventually, but not just yet." He said out loud, and with a broad smile, because he knew that none of the passing individuals would even think about him for a second.
  12. My fingers are frozen...

    -shoots himself in the face- I got me first! -crumbles-
  13. Will rename in the end.

    Ah! The scent of wild flowers, it tickles the nose, fills the lungs with joy. There is just something about the sweet, fresh scent that just invigorates the body. A wounded soldier might imagine his flesh healing, a young child might imagine a fantasy as reality. Ah! The illusions, how we cling to them. And how we pronounce catalysts of them as the better parts of our lives. How wrong we can be with that assumption. For the soldier would feel the tinge of blood mix with the sweet scent all too soon. Or more innocently the child would hear the call of a parent, and the dreams so clear in sight would crumble. Revealing something that we suddenly hate. It seems that the thing that we should take as the true wonder, the grand reality, is shadowed by these worthless visions. The soldier might disagree with that one, but was his fate changed in any way? His eyes closed, Sartorius slowly let the scent fill his lungs. His freshly woken mind was in a haze and this scent, albeit pleasant and welcome, did not help him clear it. Is there something sinister lurking in between these fragrances? He couldn't find a foreign scent. Wait, what is that? A tinge of sweat mixed with the rest. It was his own, the smell of the body. Am I the one that doesn't belong? His eyes slowly opened. A close wooden ceiling greeted his vision. As if on cue the rest of his senses began to fight for his attention. The cool breeze from nearby brought the scents and his body was more comfortable then he has ever remembered. Without noticing he became tense, as if aware that he is now awake, as if aware that there are tasks to complete. And yet he still lay, his mind catching on oh so slowly. The calmness still present, like an obstacle before the coming hours. He heard footsteps coming closer, up the stairs, down the corridor. He struggled to connect the lithe footfalls to a face. He closed his eyes as if the lack of sight would help him think. The doorknob turned and the steps were now here with him. Giving up he opened his eyes. The face of a young girl greeted him, there was a smile and a pleasant air to her. The flowers embodied. He mused to himself, then chuckled inwardly at the statement. Ah, so humour returns! That is a point for his slowly waking consciousness. He looks into her full eyes. And like a bolt of lightning his mind cries, his head filled with a clear vision. A room, blood, blood everywhere. The sound of sickening attempts at taking breaths. At first that is all he can grasp, then he sees a leg twisted, broken, bleeding. His mind, as if compelled by an unknown force, follows the leg up. Up to nothing, blood stains the wooden floor. Then a glint catches his eyes, a glint from tear filled eyes. His body revolts, his eyes finally shut. "Whats wrong!?" The girl hovering above his sleeping form asks. Sartorius opens his eyes, he is back in the room. Or did I ever leave? His mind racing, his heart pounding and his sweat overwhelming the pleasant scents. "Did you see something again?" "No." He stammers almost reflexively. "There is some breakfast ready, Temper is at his best as always." She says, knowing to not prod further. He nods. She leaves. Tears fill his eyes. I don't belong. (OOC, have a bear with me. it will be a long slow start. And yes it will be this rough and bad )
  14. My fingers are frozen...

    -runs- -shuts off skype- -runs further-
  15. My fingers are frozen...

    I had it off
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