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Post by Yukino Haruno on Nov 10, 2007 16:55:46 GMT -5
This is where the accepted applications go. No one post here.
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Post by Yukino Haruno on Nov 10, 2007 23:24:38 GMT -5
Tsubasa's Characters
Personal Name: Tsubasa Age (If wanted): Hey look! It’s a dancing monkey!!! *flees* How you found us: Dur, I'm the admin. Experience (How long you've been roleplaying for): I've played on Neopets and Static Impulse (Great site! Join if you're a fan of KH!) Other (Tell us about yourself, a bit... yeah): I'm usually sadistic and evil, so I want to play around and make a character that is the opposite of myself. I LIKE TACOS!
Character Basis Name: Seth Tzarkin Gender: Male Age: 19 Birthday: July 14th (They probably don't have our same calendar, but whatever) Race: Rebmevon. Power (If Rebmevon ONLY): Controls water, as his family has always done. But unlike them he figured out a way to control the water in just about everything. Government, Rebel, or Oblivious: He is a rebel, but a very scared one. Tries to stay hidden. Sexual Preference: He's gay, but just doesn't know it yet. Poor little uke.
Physical Description Hair color: Original color black, but died silver. Form (Slim, curvy, etc.): He's skinny, like a carrot. He doesn't eat a lot, but he's not anorexic or anything. Eye color: Grayish. It changes depending on his surroundings. Like mine kinda do. ^^ Skin color: Pale, kinda ivory as he likes to call it. Shape of face: Smallish face, and soft pointed chin. Height: 5"3 he’s short… Weight: 120lbs. (He needs to gain weight!!) Form (Slim, curvy, etc.): Other: A HUNTER DESTROYER MACHINE!!!.. Okay I have to let go of the Invader Zim lines…
Personality Attitude: He's super shy, scared of like everything, and has trouble with telling people how he feels. He's never really been happy, but he's not emo. He would be too afraid to be that ^^. He's very kind, and not selfish at all. There are times when he can get really annoying, and he kinda pisses lots of people off without meaning too. He can overreact and sometimes get really hyper. It's just another of his nervous antics. He probably needs a nice handsome manly seme...anyone? xD Likes: He likes flowers, and even tends his own. He loves water (of course) and feels naked without it. He loves the night most of all, since it reminds him of home. Dislikes: He hates fire, it scares him so much after the invasion. He also hates the fall, when everything is withering away. And he hates dry sunny days. There are probably a lot of other things, but they would be mostly fears then dislikes. Good at: He's not really good at anything much, but he's kick ass at anything dealing with water. The only problem is that he hates showing off since he doesn't like attention, so he tends to hide the things that he's good at. Bad at: Mostly everything besides water. He's clumsy, over reactive, and really hyper when he has sugar, so he messes up everything. Hobbies: : Swimming, ice skating, board games, tending to his flowers, and staying inside mostly. He's pretty dull. Habits: Overreacting, jumping at sudden things, biting his nails, and any other nervous reaction.
Other
Past: Seth was raised into a quite family with a father who was never there and a mother who never cared. He has no siblings and no play friends. He was too afraid to make friends, since he was afraid they might reject him. He had average grades at school and there was nothing really special about him except for his powers, which everyone else had too. Seth was never really happy or exited about anything, and was only content when alone and doing the things he liked. He also only felt really peaceful when he was surrounded by water. One day, when he was twelve, his father never came back from work. His mother had a nervous breakdown and was sent away. From that point Seth was raised by social workers until he was sent to boarding school when he was 15. He had a roommate who the complete opposite of him and they never ever interacted. Seth hated life but never complained about it or went 'emo'. He just lived and lived, bored and unhappy. Everything changed when they were invaded and he fled from the planet in an abandoned but still functional space pod that he found. Other: Squeedily-spooch…
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE Screams
Fire
Running
Panting
Nothing...
Seth opened his eyes. Everything was dark, except for a few little lights here and there. He closed his eyes again, then opened them.
Where am I?...
He thought, trying to calculate everything that had just happened in the remains of his memory. He gasped, put a hand to his mouth, and held his breath. Now he remembered.
"My planet it's...It's really gone. But I-I...Where am I?" Seth looked around and his eyes adjusted to the darkness a bit. He made a small, sad smile and laid back down.
"Oh yeah, I'm in that space pod that I found. Everything is gone, and now I'm on some unknown planet where I don't know anyone." But Seth knew, that it he felt exactly the same as he did when he was on Rebmevon. Even on that planet he had nothing and didn't know anyone. He had always been alone. This was no different from everything else.
Seth picked himself back up and stretched his arms, then quickly gave an 'ow!' and pulled them back in, realizing how small this pod really was. No wonder it was abandoned, no one made pods this small anymore. He looked around at the buttons that were in front of him, not knowing how to get out. Before, when he had found and entered the pod, he had not really known what the bloody hell he was doing. Everything was panicked, and he just acted without thinking. He didn't even get how he had managed to launch the pod.
Seth sighed, and looked around for something that looked remotely easy to understand. Sadly, there was really nothing understandable. He put a finger to his chin, tapping it gently.
"Well, I guess pressing random buttons wouldn't hurt..." He pushed a neon green round button, and then squeaked, jumping in his seat as all the lights turned on. Seth groaned, rubbing his eyes as the bright intense light burned holes in them.
"Okay, that was really stupid." He then looked to the left where he saw a sign in big bold red symbols (remember, they have a different writing system) reading :
OPEN DOOR PRESS HERE
silence
"I really am, very stupid."
Personal Name: YOU READ Age (If wanted): NO NO How you found us: YOU KNOW Experience (How long you've been roleplaying for): KNOW KNOW Other (Tell us about yourself, a bit... yeah): (If you had been reading up to know, you would have figured that every ‘other’ I have been writing Invader Zim lines…) I saw a squirrel! It was doing like this! *squirrel motions*
Character Basis Name: Dante Leithow Gender: Male Age: 29 Birthday: April 15th Race: Human Power (If Rebmevon ONLY): N/A Government, Rebel, or Oblivious: Government. Yes, he’s a little Rekart bastard yes he is, yes he is. Sexual Preference: He doesn’t really care, he only uses someone to get what he wants. Like sleeping with someone to get information. I GUESS you could say he was bi.
Physical Description Hair color: Jet black, silky, long, and tied in a ponytail. Eye color: Dark brown, like chocolate! Mmm….chocolate…how menacing.. Skin color: Light skinned, not pale, but not tanned. Shape of face: Very sharp, pointed chin, strict looking cheekbones. He doesn’t look very social. But still smexy. Height: Very tall, 6 feet. Weight: 175lbs, or something… Form (Slim, curvy, etc.): Lean, slim, but not super skinny. He has muscles. Other: Oh you’ll look, you have to breath SOMEtime.
Personality Attitude: Anti-social, not friendly, but sly in a way. Nobody really knows what he’s like since he basically fakes his emotions all the time. But even when he’s acting, you can always feel something uncertain and menacing about him. Likes: Blood. It’s what he lives for. He likes the color, the shape, the smell, everything. He also likes quiet dark places, where he can just be alone. And he likes his two weapons: His sword and his gun. Dislikes: Loud noises, annoying people, and people who just don’t do what he says. Good at: Killing, sneaking, acting, pretending, and using his gun and sword. Bad at: Keeping calm when annoyed and when witnessing blood. Hobbies: Anything to do with him and blood. And he loves to sit in his room, in the dark, on afternoons and just sit there, staring into darkness and sitting in silence. Habits: He tends to get a little crazy at the sight of blood, it pumps up his adrenaline, and he starts to show his true side, his psychotic side. I guess you could call that a habit…
Other Past: Dante was born and raised on the bad, dingy part of Keifer. The part where all the hoodlums, killers, junkies, rapists, drunks, and everyone else live. He was an only child and his parents were drug dealers. They taught him the ways of mixing, putting together, making, and selling the drugs as he grew. When he was about seven, his parents were caught in a drug raid and were arrested by the police. Dante was sent to a foster care, where he soon after broke out of and ran to where his parents were, only to find their bodies smashed up, their insides leaking out, and their blood, oh their blood, splattered EVERYWHERE. You would think, that Dante at this age, would have been frightened, grossed out, horrified, or scarred by this awful sight. But he wasn’t, he was by far the opposite. Dante was intrigued, fascinated, and just exited by this sight. He still calls it to this day ‘an artistic view’. Later on Dante found out that his parents had snitched on their partners in crime to the police, and had been set free. But then only to be killed by the very ones they snitched on. Dante couldn’t stop thinking about that beautiful sight that he saw, and he wanted more. He started to kill random animals that had crossed him, taking a knife and carving out their innards, then tasting their glorious blood. When he turned eight he moved on to children, who were by far more exiting to kill. Dante would follow them after school, they could never suspect him. He was just a child after all. But then when they wandered into a secluded place he would slit their throat, and watch as the blood poured out like a waterfall. It was so beautiful. When Dante turned ten, he finally moved onto adults. This was very hard, noting that they were much bigger then he, and much stronger. He figured out a way to drug them, since he was so good at that thanks to his dear parents, selling them lemonade on the street late at night, and then when they were out of it he was jump up and stab them in the stomach, continuing to stab them until there was no more blood left. When he turned twelve, he was found by the Government and kidnapped. He was frantic and killed a few of his guards, but once they made him an offer to join a training program, promising him to be able to kill thousands, he couldn’t refuse. Other: Nehee, that was so long, it’s probably longer then my sample. I know it’s so unrealistic but hey, there are people from another planet here. Oh and, of course, I’m gonna sing the doom song now. Doom de doom dah doom, de dad doom doom doom do di do di doom doom DOOM.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE
Red…Lots of red. Everywhere, like a painting. Different strokes, patterns, sizes. Dark red, light red, it was a work of art. Dante took one finger and spread more of that red liquid, that sweet forbidden nectar, over the wall of his home. He never did like vacant walls, and was a one for beautiful sights. He hummed, taking two fingers now, spreading it more, making round circles, lines, and dashes. Hmmm, he couldn’t spread anymore. He must need more.
Dante turned his head to the left, then lowered it a bit to face the limp form of something lying there, on his house floor even. Arms sprawled, parts everywhere, he couldn’t even tell what it was anymore. Still humming, he lowered himself to a squatting position, and stretched a hand out, forming it into a small cup. He dipped it down into a rather large puddle of that red glory, feeling the liquid swash and slither on his skin, dying it red. He sighed in ecstasy, pausing to savor the feeling, and then lifted his hand up watching as some of the nectar dripped down.
Pitter
Patter
The sound was so surreal, but he wanted louder sounds. He took his hand carefully, slowly, and then…
SPLASH
Onto the wall. It flied everywhere, splotches missing the wall and hitting furniture, the floor. Now that he had more, he could continue his masterpiece, stroking the wall with the substance, filling in white spots that he had missed before. He kept humming and humming, closing his eyes as he painted, so he could do nothing but feel this ecstasy. Dante couldn’t resist, and he took a finger to his mouth, sucking on the juice, and moaning in pleasure. It was so sweet, so salty, so bitter, so tasty. His tongue went over it, then over his lips, savoring as much as he could.
Dante stood back, placing red stained hands to his side, and cocked his head to the side to get a different view of his wall. He smiled a dazed kind of smile, the kind you have when you’re high or in ecstasy. Putting his hands together he sighed.
“Perfect.”
(Okay, I just want you to notice that I never used the word blood ONCE in the sample. Meehee.) [/font][/size]
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Post by Yukino Haruno on Nov 12, 2007 0:06:49 GMT -5
Yukino's Character
Personal Name: Ali Age (If wanted): Caesar How you found us: Adminnnnnnnnnnnnn. Experience (How long you've been roleplaying for): I think about four years, mostly on Neopets. I’m also apart of a few forums. Check em out. ^^ Other (Tell us about yourself, a bit... yeah): I’m really cool. Yeah. I am. No really, I am. Yarghhhh.
Character Basis Name: Dorian Htria Gender: Male Age: 22 Birthday: January 22, according to our calender. Race: Rebmevon. Power (If Rebmevon ONLY): Mentis. Government, Rebel, or Oblivious: Rebel, though he’s not in the mood to usually go out and attack them. He’d rather just paint.. Sexual Preference: Straight.
Physical Description Hair color: It’s a very dark black color. It’s also very thick, giving his hair the appearance of being extremely fluffy. Eye color: A deep blue color. Some people might even call it a dark brown. Skin color: Tanned, since he had lived near the sun on his old planet. Shape of face: Very sharp, sharp chin, sharp nose, but he looks kind of nice. Height: 5’11 Weight: 140lbs… Form (Slim, curvy, etc.): Lean, doesn’t have a lot of muscles at all. Most of the weight comes from his height. Other: Moose.
Personality Attitude: Dorian is usually a very quiet guy. He will talk to you, but he’d really rather just not. It’s really unknown why he dislikes socializing, he’d just rather do other things. Though, if you’re lucky, you might be able to actually get a nice conversation out of him, and if you do this, you’ll be in a very safe place. Dorian always enjoys taking care of anyone he feels special emotions to, and would usually do anything he could to protect them. Likes: Painting, his old planet, new friends, the evening, and salads. Dislikes: People who can’t appreciate art, hypocrites, the Rekrats, and people who continue to bother him. Good at: Painting, any school activity, and anything that involves remembering. Bad at: Any kind of sports Hobbies: Painting and yo-yoing. Habits: Biting his fingernails, and he always places a dot of paint on his finger whenever he is about to change colors.
Other Past: When Dorian was little, he realized that he, like the rest of his family, that he was a Mentis. He did enjoy his power to his full extent; he aced all of his tests in school, getting sent off to one of the most elite colleges on his planet. He also began to enjoy pretending that he wasn’t a Mentis, trying to make others believe that he was something else, and then completely searched through their minds, finding out any juicy information and using it against them. He had continuously did that during his high school years, being bored with the ‘easy schoolwork’ that he got. It was one of the more entertaining things to him, except… After a few years of doing this, he realized that this was wrong. Other people’s minds were their own privacy, not something to be invaded on. Dorian felt a sudden guilt rise within him, and felt ashamed for what he had done. He had sworn to never again search someone’s mind unless absolutely necessary. And that’s what he did; and he’d been doing a great job of it too. He had also realized a new way to have fun with his powers. He would look at one area of any place, no matter what, and then paint it, making it even a little more better and showing the other Rebmevons their own planet. He had loved painting, and was in the middle of one of his best when the other planets had begun to invade. He had escaped, with nothing except his small paintset in a small working escape pod. There he landed on Earth, not knowing anyone, but excited for the new sights he could find. Other: He works as a painter on Earth, now… which is why he paints.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE
Swish. Streak. Stroke. Splatter. Those were most of the sound effects that Dorian heard whenever he was painting, and it had grown to be a few of his most favorite sounds. And the motion of it was wonderful too; just place this tiny brush on a piece of paper, and you have color. Not that dull, white color that paper usually comes in; you get a whole new wave of different sights for your eyes. Eye candy, possibly.
The picture was maybe one of Dorian’s best pieces of artwork so far on this little planet. He had to admit, the sights here weren’t as spectacular as the ones on Rebmevon, but some of these sights were wonders to bestow on. The Niagara Falls. The Egyptian pyramids. New York City. Almost most of the things caught the painter’s eye, making him pleased that he could at least paint something in this place. At the moment, he was painting what he believed to be one of the most wonderful sights he had ever seen in his life. His own planet.
There was once a time, when he was much younger, when he loved to go out to the beach and play in it's calm waters, and feel the cool sand on his tiny toes. Though that beach was gone, he had still remembered the looks of it, especially the times when the sun was setting. Ah yes, that was a gorgeous time; the water reflecting different shades of blues, pinks, purples, oranges, anything you could think of. The sand grew a bit cooler, numbing any part of the body that was touching the sand. And of course, the sun itself. It wasn't as bright as it usually was when it was setting, and Dorian had always loved that sight. Though it was gone, he could still remember, and he had wished to see it visibly once more.
Thus began his painting of his old planet's sunset. It was almost finished; he just needed to add some shading and he would be completed with his work. With another dash of his brush, he continued to paint, pleased with his artwork. Though he had paused for a moment, looking at it peculiarly. "Somethings missing," he muttered quietly. "Not the shading, but..." He frowned, furrowing his thin brow and trying to see what it was he was missing. Was the water too close to the shore? Too far? Was the sun not in the right spot?
Dorian suddenly realized it, and with that realization, sighed with pity. "Now I get it... it's missing... missing... Home." He bit the inside of his lip, frowning at this. Yes, that was it. It was missing that homey feeling, the kind you get whenever you're at your house, or you feel truly happy. And though Dorian could remember anything, he couldn't remember that one, prized feeling he knew for so long.
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Post by Yukino Haruno on Nov 18, 2007 16:54:46 GMT -5
ARA'S CHARACTERS
Personal Name: Just call me Lola. Age (If wanted): One million and two. How you found us: Yukino invited me. Experience (How long you've been roleplaying for): For about *counts on fingers* three years. Mostly on neopets. (Aren’t I a geek?) Other (Tell us about yourself, a bit... yeah): I write, I read, I role play. ^^
Character Basis Name: Ara Looring Gender: Female Age: 19 Birthday: August 17 Race: Rebmevon Power (If Rebmevon ONLY): She can control fire and it usually reacts with her emotions when she uses it. Government, Rebel, or Oblivious: She is kinda stuck in the middle. She knows about it and realizes that it is going on, but isn’t sure if she wants to rebel. So she sometimes joins in and sometimes sits out. Sexual Preference: Straight, definitely straight. Ara: I LIKE GUYS! Me: I just told them that. Ara: Just making sure I got my point across…
Physical Description Hair color: A darker blond. Eye color: Light blue. Skin color: In the middle. Not pale, not tan. Shape of face: Heart shaped! Height: 5’6” Weight: A lady never tells! Ara: Now they’re gonna think I’m fat. Me: You’re not fat. Ara: Easy for you to say. All you have to do is think it and BOOM I weigh twenty more pounds. Me: -shakes head- You weigh 127 pounds. Happy? Ara: Thanks for blabbering my weight out to the whole world. Me: I can never win. Form (Slim, curvy, etc.): Slim and curvy. She definitely has to work for her figure. Other: She’s an alien from another planet. What else is there to say?
Personality Attitude: She’s mostly a happy person, but that doesn’t mean she can’t feel other emotions. She can be really sad or really mad. Just remember next time you want to make her mad that she controls fire… Likes: Gazing at the stars, no not celebrities, the ones in the sky. Playing with fire, obviously. Watching humans (no she doesn’t stalk them). Listening to rain fall (Although she doesn’t like it much). Dislikes: Stuck up know it alls. She doesn’t really like water, though she tolerates it. French fries. Good at: She seems to be quite friendly towards others. Bad at: Occasionally she has a short attention span. Hobbies: umm…Ara? Ara: Must I do everything? Me: Well if you want to get technical… Ara: Shut up. Me: I’m not really talk- Ara: SAME DIFFERENCE! Me: Just tell them what your hobbies are! Ara: Maybe I don’t want to. Me: -hovers mouse over delete button- Ara: Okay, okay. Playing with fire. Being with my friends. Exploring the area. Habits: When she’s in deep thought, she gets this twenty-yard stare thing going on.
Other Past: Ever since Ara can remember it has been her and her mother. Her father had left her mother not to long after Ara was born. Something about not living up to responsibility. Her mother would occasionally go into –missing my man- mode, but after Ara turned six the wounds seemed to heal leaving her with a sense of peace and right mind. Ara always seemed to do well in life, good grades, friends, and a loving mother. What more could she ask for? Well, not the end of her world, literally. She was lucky to be one to escape the planet, but sadly her family wasn’t. She sometimes gets depressed thinking about it, and misses her mom. Earth has been a pretty good experience for her except the whole ‘can’t use your power in public’ and the being hunted. Other than that she loves it. Other: I think this application is self explanatory.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE A thousand tears shed a thousand journeys underway, all forced upon one soul in an unfortunate small amount of time. The young figure of a woman could be seen between the trees, moving in and out. She was on a journey; any soul could catch that if she happened to walk by their path. If she came out of the shadows, if she showed them her face, and if they get close enough to hear her tale.
Through her hood her eyes searched the skies, waiting for the moment when her journey would become much more difficult. The mud stained the ends of her dress and branches clung to them for dear life. She would find herself making way through the wet and muddy ground then suddenly becoming stuck. She had long since lost her boots.
The crows overhead left her with a sense of peace, knowing that there was some other form of life around her. As the thunder clapped once more, her desperate eyes searched for maybe some place to rest. Everywhere she looked seemed the same, trees and mud. Sighing in frustration her bare feet carried her on.
Some would say that going into the marshes was a horrid idea, but to this young lady it had been a form of escape. It never was easy to be on the run since you were ten. Although helpful, the marshes put a damper on her spirit. A fire bender did not go well with water.
A second without paying attention cost her as she fell to her knees, covering her blue dress with brown muck. “Ara what have you gotten yourself into to.” She whispered. The hood had fallen down to reveal her messy blond hair and a sweat stained forehead. She could feel herself loose her momentum as she tried to pull herself from the muck.
She sighed, her mind pulling her into the past; how her mother risked her life to save her, how her parents had trusted others who later betrayed them, and how now she lay in a thick slab of mud. Her thoughts were broken by a faint voice in the distant; two exactly.
She didn’t need this right now; the worry of enemies after her. She would be a much too easy victim if they caught her like this. A fly in the spiders’ web. Her thoughts soothed as the conversation seemed far off. Wiggling she pulled herself free and sat on a remotely dry patch.
With a snap from her fingers a small flame appeared and hovered near her, causing it to illuminate the ends of her tattered dress and bare feet. She sighed with exhaustion closing her blue eyes, close to falling asleep. The flame barely above her hand burned her causing her to wake. This wasn’t’ the time or the place, but when ever was it?
'Memories all alone in the Moonlight'
Character Basis (The Old-before the ‘accident’. Who she really is.) Name: Iris Macarthur Gender: Female Age: 20 Birthday: August 27th Race: Rebmevon Power (If Rebmevon ONLY): Super Strength Government, Rebel, or Oblivious: Rebel Sexual Preference: Straight.
(The New, what she knows and goes by now) Name: Ivy Smith Gender: Female Age: 23 Birthday: June 1st Race: Rebmevon Power (If Rebmevon ONLY): Super Strength Government, Rebel, or Oblivious: Rekart (Government) Sexual Preference: Straight.
Physical Description Hair color: Ivy’s hair is a darker brown, almost black, and sits on her shoulders. Depending on her mood, reflects her hair style for the day. If she’s feeling happy it’ll be playfully up, straightened, or sometimes curled. If she’s feeling down it’ll be sloppy, not bad looking, just not pretty. It naturally has a hint of wave to it. Eye color: Her eyes are an emerald green with brown specks in them. Skin color: Ivy’s skin is on the paler side, hereditary from her parents. Even days in the sun wouldn’t help her, it would just burn. Shape of face: Her face is soft and is rounded to the shape of a heart. Height: Five foot, five inches. Weight: One-hundred and twenty nine pounds. Form (Slim, curvy, etc.): Ivy has a more petite figure, giving off the appearance of weaker or vulnerable. A mistake her enemies can have on first encounters, but underneath the fragile skin is muscles strong enough to lift tons. Other: Nope.
Personality Attitude: Ivy can be very serious, or very…not serious. She gets mad easily, which can cause problems with her power. Although, she is the master of keeping other emotions and feelings bottled up and usually will snap a sarcastic comment.
The old her was more caring and gentle, her power was enough of a tough side, but now she had to be more mean and rough with others. Well at least to the Rebels.
Another thing most don’t know about Ivy is that sometimes she feels as if something is missing. Not just possessive items, more in her memory. She can’t figure it out and doesn’t know what it would be seeing as she has everything. She’ll pretend nothing’s wrong and be all messed up inside.
Likes: -her name -her job -her hair -accomplishing a mission -her power -boys -being able to deceive enemies into thinking she’s weak -her attitude -family
Dislikes: -the missing feeling -having to be overly careful about everything -being lost -failing -being bored -not knowing everything happening in the building -getting emotionally attached -her weaknesses -the dark (But doesn’t know why.)
Good at: -being careful with her power -quick wit -she believes, her job -using her strength correctly -hiding things
Bad at: -loosing control -remembering her past -falling in love -being alone (Needs to be surrounded by people most of the time or else she ‘thinks’ to much.)
Hobbies: -‘thinking’ -working out -working -writing in her journal
Habits: Ivy will try and hide her feelings from time to time, which is a lot of work and stress for her.
Other (The New) Past: Ivy grew up on the all famous planet Rebmevon, had a normal family, normal friends, and went to a normal school. It was just…normal. Her parents were strong believers in using their powers; they didn’t think it should be something to hide, so Ivy was one to flaunt her strength around. Needless to say she was never bullied in school.
Then the takeover happened. Her parents wanted to fight but didn’t want Ivy to have any part in it. That meant that they waited until the last possible moment before they decided that it was of no more use to stick around, so the three of them landed safely on earth.
Ivy’s parents hated to hide, and especially hated having to move a little slower, be a lot more careful. They wanted power and wanted it badly, and that’s how Ivy got roped into joining the Government. Honestly, she likes it. She grew up with the workers, was trained to be stronger, and most of all she doesn’t have to get up at six a.m. and go to work. She’s already there!
(The Old) *Note* She doesn’t remember any of this and I say Iris because at the time that was her name. Past: Her life was not perfect. She moved out of the house at sixteen due to her overly controlling father and went and stayed in a run down apartment. Things were getting rocky, seeing as money was tight and she would have been living on the streets if some of her close friends hadn’t decided to help out. As in room mates! One was Miss Ara Looring, who happened to be Iris’ best friend.
Life was looking up…until the world ended. She fell to earth with Ara beside her, and together they sought refuge in a secret hiding spot with six other rebmevons.
It was a dark room underground and they had an alibi up above dropping food off for them to eat and giving them updates on what was happening on this strange new planet, but of course life can never be that simple.
The alibi didn’t show one day and just as they were about to investigate they were attacked by Rekarts. Iris was ready for the fight, it being a relief that she got to use her powers so strongly. But it wasn’t the same for Ara, who had been soundly sleeping, for when she went to conjure up fire, nothing happened. Nada. Not even a hint of smoke.
Ara of course flipped because she hadn’t realized what was causing this. It wasn’t until she got to think it through did she realize the true reasons. Never the less they tagged up and Iris had Ara’s back and Ara hers, though she couldn’t do much.
That’s when they pulled out the serum and shot it randomly around the room, even hitting some of their own. It was then that it came down to two against one. Ara and Iris vs. Rekart #1.
Though, Ara didn’t realize the one was aiming his gun at her. Iris saw, ran and pushed her friend out of the way, getting hit by the serum. With her last ounce of energy she was able to distract the Rekarts and allowed Ara to escape, though she would never be able to forget Ara’s face as she turned to look at her one last time.
She never thought she would forget. But she never knew what the Government had in store for her. They found her too powerful to terminate, so they worked on erasing her memory, identity, and life.
They filled her brain with a false past, though it’s clear enough that she believes it. They changed her name to Ivy Smith. (S.I. Second Identification) And, mostly they gave her a new life where she now works against all her old friends. But there are those times where her old life tries to push through and gets thinking… What’s missing?
Other: She pretty much forgets everything about her life before they erased her memory. All her friends and family. The only time she slightly remembers is when there was something strong in her life and she comes in contact with it again.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE (I’m doing the part of Iris’s life between landing on Earth and getting captured, and you guys get to even see a little bit of Ara’s past! What a treat!)
“Iris?” The soft voice of her friend broke the silence that seemed to hang over their heads. “What about Salem? And Cicily? Ian? Phillip?” Iris inhaled deeply, resting her head against the side of the pod. “We hope they escaped. There isn’t much else.” Ara was silent for a moment and the only noise that could be heard was the pod as it whizzed into space. “Iris?” “Hm?” “What’s going to happen on this new planet?” Iris stared out at the galaxy before them, no destination in sight. “We start new. Make due with the conditions we are given.” She sighed, her emerald eyes wondering over to Ara’s blue ones. “That’s all we can do.” ----------------------------------------------- Their escape pod had landed nicely in an open field, much to Iris’s enjoyment. Moving it would be a breeze. “We’re here!” She said cheerfully to Ara who just rolled her eyes. “Were not even sure where we are…” “In a field…” “On…?” “…a planet.” Ara chuckled at this and went back in the pod, probably trying to find out where the hell they were.
Iris took a few steps into the field, brushing off some dirt on her pants. This planet was so strange and she hadn’t even been on it for five minutes. And she hated it.
She could tell that there was other life here, which meant problems for any Rebmevon. From what she knew other planets weren’t as accepting of strange new people, especially the ones with powers.
“Earth.” Ara yelled to her. “The planet is called Earth.”
“Well, hello Earth. Meet your invasion.” ----------------------------------------------- The room was dark and stuffy, something that one could get used to after a few days right? Well, whoever that was must have been on something because Iris didn’t think that if she spent years down here that she could learn to love it. Or at least like it.
Ara had curled up sleeping on her legs, which it seemed she did a lot of these days. ‘I’m sure it’s just the atmosphere or I’m still exhausted from escaping.’ Ara had told her before she took yet another nap. ‘I’ll be back to normal in no time’.
Iris stroked her friend’s hair softly glancing up at the other people in the room. They all looked worn out and tired, but none seemed to be as fragile as Ara. This worried her greatly.
“Where is Isabelle with the food for today?” One of them complained and everyone nodded. Twelve O’clock on the dot everyday for a week now and for some reason today, nothing. “Maybe something’s wrong?” “Perhaps she just lost track of time.” “Don’t worry she’ll be here.”
Then they could hear footsteps in the distance and everyone sighed with relief. At least into the figures came into view. “ALL OF YOU, UP NOW!” The voice was rough and loud, causing Ara to wake up. “What’s going on?” She asked sleepily. Another officer came up to Iris and Ara, nudging Ara with the tip of his boot. “Get up dirt.”
And Ara got up, the others watching silently. “You’re going to regret that last sentence.” She held her hands up, waiting for the flames to come, the overpowering heat wave to burst. The officer chuckled, grabbing her wrist. “I’m really regret-“ And he went flying across the room, Iris’ hand still in the place where she had made contact with his stomach.
That was just the beginning. Each Rebel joined in, some Rekarts doubled over in pain with the brain invasion, others in a puddle of water, and some cowering away as Iris made her way towards them, Ara right behind her. Ara was lost and dazed without her power, stuck between wanting to help and not sure what to do.
Iris kept with her though, knowing she couldn’t abandon her friend and besides, this battle was easy. But it wasn’t the end of the war.
At first the guns had worried them, but when one got hit and nothing happened at first they went and attacked stronger, and the Rekarts fired at random, seeing as it was chaos, and it didn’t take long until they figured out what the needles did.
Then it was just Iris and Ara, one other Rekart standing. “Ara, check out the others. I’ll take care of him. She hesitated starting towards one of the other Rebels as Iris started towards the last Rekart. That’s when a lot happened. The Rekart aimed his gun towards Ara, who was oblivious, and Iris did something that she will never regret: She pushed Ara out of the way, the serum implanting itself in her left shoulder.
Ara screamed as Iris fell to the floor with a gasp. “IRIS!” She was kneeling next to her. “Why? You didn’t…” “Ara, listen to me, leave.” The Rekart started to stroll over to them, a smirk implanted on his face. “I can’t leave you!” “Yes, you can! I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.” Fear reflected on Ara’s face and Iris had to hold back tears, saying this was practically cutting in to her, but Ara was the only hope to escape. There was a chance if Ara made it out.
“Sweetie, are you going to go down peacefully, or am I going to have to use force?” And he received one final kick from Iris, flying away from them, not as far if she had full power. A few Rekarts started to get up from their battles, stiff but able to fight again. “NOW ARA!”
There was a long pause before Ara got up and made her way towards the exit, turning to look at her friend one more time. “I’ll save you Iris.” Were her final words before disappearing into the day, leaving a disabled Iris on the floor. A memory she would never forget. For a while anyway.
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Post by Yukino Haruno on Nov 18, 2007 16:55:33 GMT -5
CHARY'S CHARACTER (heh that sounds funny xD)
Personal Name: Chary {Okay, Charlotte, but Chary sounds better 0=3} Age (If wanted): Older than you! Or actually... I don't know, because nobody reveals their age xD. How you found us: The famed and powerful Neoboards ;3 Experience (How long you've been roleplaying for): For about... 3 years or so? Yeah, something like that I guess. I've roleplayed on Neo, Gaia, E-mail and several forums. Other (Tell us about yourself, a bit... yeah): Erm.... I love gaming xD. And I have some kind of smiley obession out of character..... ignore it xD, it doesn't affect my roleplaying.
Oh, and I'm Dutch x3. Yeah, don't hear that often do you ;3. Thus english isn't my first language, I teached that myself ;3. And I use metric x3, because I don't know imperial.
And I draw stuff. I suck. Perhaps I'll put up something in the art section sometime... perhaps....
And I'm a science geek x3, fear my chemistry powers ;P
Oh, and currently I'm having this chronical bleeding thingy going on, so all kinds of blood test, operations, getting in and out of hospital and such things are going on. Which means I can suddenly sort of poof. Though I'll try to warn when I'm getting one ;^^.
Character Basis Name: Matthias Gender: Male Age: 24 Birthday: 24th of January Race: Rebmevon {Rekart} Power (If Rebmevon ONLY): Shade Government, Rebel, or Oblivious: Government Sexual Preference: Bi-sexual
Physical Description Hair color: Moussey Blonde, died black at the tips. Hair is long and worn tied at the nape of his neck. Eye color: Blue Skin color: Pale-ish, but not unnaturally so Shape of face: Sharp? No, pointy perhaps, pointy chin, pointy nose. Height: 1,98 m Weight: I dunno D:, erm... about 67 kg I guess Form (Slim, curvy, etc.): Slim, not particulary muscular; in fact, you could note a complete lack of muscles. He's not much of fighter, you see. Other: Wears a pair of frameless glasses, that seem to have tendency of sliding to the tip of his nose.
Personality Attitude: Slightly cold, follows orders without question. He tries not to let emotions intertwine with his work, for he believes it would make him inefficient. Likes: Darkness, apple juice, windy nights and fluffy rabbits (but he won't be telling you that ;3) Dislikes: Daytime, heatwaves, dogs Good at: Tracking and finding people that need to be found, telling a lie Bad at: Teamwork, working with animals, getting a good nights' sleep. Hobbies: Pool, sketching silly comics Habits: Flexing his fingers, clicking with his tongue when things get interesting, kicking stones along the street.
Other Past: Like the other Rebmevons, he was born and raised on the planet. Like them, he escaped, using an uncomfortably small pod, and landed on the earth. There, it was only a matter of time before he got confronted by the government. When he was given the choice to join them, he accepted out of self-preserverance. He felt it he would prefer to simply act on their whim than be taken away to be tested, besides, it would give him something to do. Whilst sometimes plagued with moral objections to tracking and 'taking' his own race, he dutifully 'serves' the government, not trying to think what could possibly happen to those that refuse to join. Instead, he sometimes tries to forget they were ever related at all. Other: Hrmm.. blah, blah bla, I can't think of anything right now.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE
Quiet, it could describe so many things; the lack of loud and distrubing noises in a specific area, a personality trait of one that didn't talk much, a day with an absence of much to do.
Sadly, it didn't seem to describe anything in the surrounding area, which was bustling with life. The cafe was bustling with any kind of humans, you had the businessmen, enthousiastically talking about the latest stocks, the teenagers, thrilled by the latest concert by whatever seemed to be 'the rage', the mothers, discussing the best way how to change a nappy and many more. None of them, sadly, seemed to carry the trait 'quiet', a man noted.
The man was seated at a dingy plastic table, covered with the odd spot of colour, undoubtly from food colouring in some dubious kind of icecream. He absentmindedly stirred in some yellowy liquid, apple juice, with a nearly fluorescent orange stick that came with the drink, complete with an odd fluffy pink and purple ball at the top of the stick.
He stared intently through a small pair of glasses, rested on the tip of his nose, at the liquid and the little whirlpool he had created. He rubbed his temples, trying to tune into things he actually wanted to hear. He cursed softly, at the human loudness and the headache they were giving him. It wasn't only the people, it was as if all cars, birds, dogs, heck, all things with the ability to make a noise, had teamed up to join the cause of annoying him.
He started to wonder if his sources had led him to a dead track. He slid his hand into his pocket, taking out the picture of a young man, dark hair, dark eyes, bright smile. He took another glance through the cafe, but with no succes. He recognised some others, Rebmevons, like him, but let them be, the government hadn't ordered any business with them as far as he knew. He might be turning more into the governments' lapdog by the day, but he wouldn't bite unmarked targets, not yet in any case. And why take all the unneeded trouble and cause an unneeded uproar? For one, he knew the government didn't like doing explainations whenever a fight broke out.
So he just leaned back in his chair a bit and looked into the area from just over his glasses. When he finally spotted the man he smiled a brief, wry smile, and pressed his glasses a bit higher on the bridge of his nose, after which they almost immidiately slid back to the tip. He left some coins next to his glass, stood and clicked his tongue.
--- 'Memories all alone in the Moonlight'
{{D: That wasn't all that great, but it just didn't want to work D:. I'm sorry, hope it's not too bad D:}}
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Post by Yukino Haruno on Nov 25, 2007 17:41:00 GMT -5
POE'S CHARACTER
Personal Name: Poe
Age (If wanted): 14
How you found us: Lola/Ara my bestestest-real-world-life-friend-whom-I-am-talking-to-on-the-phone-right-now!
Experience (How long you've been roleplaying for): Four and a half years.
Other (Tell us about yourself, a bit... yeah): I'm: Crazy Hyper What I believe is literate Funny Hyper A wakeboarder Outgoing Talkative Romantic A reader A writer Annnnnnnnnd pretty damn awesome.
Character Basis Name: Marcus J. Baddiman
Gender: Male
Age: 21
Birthday: March 3
Race: Rebmevon
Power (If Rebmevon ONLY): Mentis
Government, Rebel, or Oblivious: Rebel
Sexual Preference: Straight
Physical Description Hair color: Coal Black
Eye color: So dark, they look black.
Skin color: It is, undoubtedly, white, but with a golden color. The traditional hispanic brown, if you will.
Shape of face: He has a broad jaw with a slight cleft, and high cheekbones. His forehead is far from billboard-ish.
Height: 6'1
Weight: 193
Form (Slim, curvy, etc.): Muscular, slim
Other: Standing at 6'1" and weighing around 183 pounds Marcus Baddiman is what some girls could call... eye candy. Because of his Latino origin his skin is darker then the average person, and it looks as if he is walking around with a tan: all the time. He has black hair that he keeps neatly trimmed- short on the sides and long on the top, but of course when he doesn't feel like styling it in the morning he will more often the not just let it fall over his eyes. Back when he was younger he had dark brown hair that was wavy and would fall in front of his dark chocolate brown eyes. His eyes are pretty much the same, though they seem darker now and are much more serious then what they used to be... in the good old days. He carries himself with great pride and passion. His shoulders are never slumped and he walks almost as if he were floating. Yes, his mother said that if he doesn't get shot with a bullet then his pride will kill him. Or the rival gang... Some of the weight comes from working out. The results are so worth it... And needed- in his eyes anyway.
Marcus usually falls into the 'clean' category of clothing. His jeans don't have holes in them, his shirts aren't baggy- even if his pants are- and his shoes are always clean. Back in high school people made fun of him that he cleaned them with a tooth-brush. His favorite outfits are button down open in the front with a wife beater or other shirt underneath of it, dark Jeans that are a little bit baggy, and the only piece of jewelry is a silver chain that hangs from his belt-loop and connects to his wallet in his back pocket.
Personality Attitude: "Do you really want to know? I'm bad-ass, unless I'm around kids. Yeah whatever, then I go totally soft. My weakness. Sad I know." "My ex's tell me that I'm too perverted for their taste, because they say every other word out of my mouth is a sex joke. Which, really it isn't. Or at least- it isn't anymore. Actually, know I think I've cleaned myself up quite a bit. Much more mature. Of course, now they say I'm too protective." "Yeah, so, I talk like a sailor too, sorry, cover your ears folks. I'm the best fu cking, motherf ucker there is. You think you can take me on? Bring it on!" *Motions forward* "I doubt you can get me down." "Yeah, big headed... When I get mad, I get really mad, and can't really... control myself. People that I know well say I'm dangerous- and I wish I could say otherwise. Sadly, I believe them."
"A lot of people I'm really, really stuck up. I'm not. I just... Well, you just have to get to know me is all. *nods* Honest, I'm not that bad."
"Uhm. Now I think I'm out of things to say. So. Yeah."
Likes: [+]Girls [+]Dare I say, sex [+]Kids [+]Fighting [+]The colors black red and silver [+]Poker [+]Money [+]Dares [+]Himself (Who could blame him) [+]Medicine- the body has to heal itself to become stronger.
Dislikes: [+]Pot [+]Drugs... [+]Being sick [+]Being unloyal [+]slu tty girls [+]Brats [+]Prissy kids
Good at: [+]Swearing [+]Dare I say, Sex [+]Being manly [+]Being a softy [+]Being a ladies man [+]Saying yes [+]Learning things about people very, very easily. Hm. WOnder why? [+]Talking about himself.
Bad at: [+]Tolerating people [+]Saying no [+]Meeting new people, mainly weird people [+]Letting some one get hurt at his expense (Happens a lot.) [+]Not talking about him.
Hobbies: [+]Fighting [+]Arguing [+]Swimming [+]Working out.
Habits: Quirks: [+]He slides his chain that hangs on his pants back and forth when he is nervous [+]Cracks his knuckles in an awkward silence [+]Runs his hand through his hair when he is at a loss for something to say.
WHAT I ADDED:
Fears: weaknesses: [+]Bullets [+]Silver [+]Blood [+]His anger [+]Kids [+]A pretty face
Other Past: Marcus was born in Revmevon, and stayed where he was until the war began- his family running with from the danger. They fled to Earth and settled. They were fine. Him and his six siblings, all of them fine... Until. Someone did something stupid.
Now the government is after them, and his mother- fallen to their hands because of one of her own children is dead. Marcus's father, devastated, would not leave, and is probably caught. The children went their different ways, Marcus to the life of a rebel, refusing to be caught, and blood lust in his eyes toward that of his brother who turned in his family and caused so much grief.
Other: If this character has any other info about them, please say it here.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE He was dressed in his Sunday best, but when wasn’t he? His black suit was pressed and clean, his black shoes polished ‘till they shone even in the dark, and his black hair was wet back so he had a silky look about him. The only things that WEREN’T black were his two baby blue eyes that looked carefully from one place to the next, studying everyone and everything, and of course the silver chain that hung from the pocket of his black pinstripe trousers. This fine silver chain was connected to a pocket watch that would tick for the rest of its life to sixty. A one sided smile inched up his lips as he stepped out of the trolley that had carried him to the hell hole of this little North Carolina town. Well, if it hadn’t been a hell hole before, it certainly was one now. As he stepped out onto the sidewalk, just across from the courthouse, he looked up at the large white Victorian that was sitting on several acres of land. From local gossip he had heard about this town he knew a rich couple lived in that birthday cake of a house… He wondered if he’d get to meet the woman that lived there. Leaning on a cane with a silver top he shrugged mentally to himself, what did it matter if he did meet the beauty that lived there? He would certainly only cause her grief.
Taking the pocket watch out of his pocket he checked the time. Ah, a quarter to noon. Right on time. Now where was that little man that was to take him to his home? He was the richest man in this little town of Cole Creek. As the trolley drove away he walked across the street toward the town square, looking up at the court house, thinking quietly to himself before a portly man that looked like Humpty Dumpty bounced up to him. “Sir, you must be Mr. Rollands, right?” ”Yes, I am he. Call me Erick, please.” Erick Rollands held out a pale white hand and shook the spidery one of the mayor who was delighted that this man was staying in their little town. ”I don’t see why you don’t stay in the town, sir, there-“ ”I will be better suited out in the woodlands, I believe, become closer to nature,” he waved his hand about. “But I assure you I will come into Cole Creek as often as I can.” He smiled.
Erick Rollands, for being as evil as he was, was quite a handsome devil. Cursed with good looks, and a horrible reputation. Lust, greed, envy, and passion it was all built into him, it was all part of the big picture… As the mayor bounced around telling him about the layout of Cole Creek itself Erick’s eyes wandered, he took in all the ladies in their stiff, high necked lacey dresses, their hair done up as they walked with their husbands, smiles on their pretty faces. Innocent, pretty faces. How he would love to show them what a true passion was like. How he’d love to show them. And how he’d love to take them from their husbands- envy and lust worked into his blood, pumping through him, he had to keep his cool to keep from turning red.
Well, it was true- the devil’s true color was red when he let his… faults get the best of him. But everyone had a true color in them. They walked around the square once, being shown the entire town- which wasn’t much. The whole while he searched for the woman that lived in the large house. Money… he couldn’t help it. Even if he was to be here a short while, he had to leave a lasting impression on SOME ONE… Finally the mayor left him, telling him some one would be by to show him to his cabin in the woods where he would be staying until he decided to leave. Until his ‘punishment’ was up. What had he done to offend God this time? Oh hell, even he didn’t know. Chuckling at his little joke, he strolled around the square stopping at the edge of the green, once again, just looking.
OR
“THEY TOLD ME TO!” ”They told you to what?” A nurse asked the boy softly, trying to soothe his spasms. ”To do this…” A single shot of the gun pierced the nurse’s skin... and blood was everywhere. Seeping off the walls, and sinking into the floor, coming out of the tap of the sink in the bathroom. Blood. Everywhere.
A frigid cold swept over his body, he began to tremble, and then he shot up in bed, waking from the dream, straining against the leather straps that held his arms, legs, and chest to the hard hospital bed. He came in crazy. They said he would never leave… Nevertheless, the voices… the voices in his dreams, that he had heard for as long as he could remember, told him that he could. If he would only do as they said. So, the John Doe to the hospital was going to listen to these voices… and do what they told him to do. Do what he did in his dreams. His nightmares.
He was going to break free. He was going to kill. It was the only way, they said, to get free. Shaking his head back and fourth his pale blond hair that almost fell over his eyes began to stick to his forehead. A scream escaped his pale lips. Everything about him was pale. His skin, his eyes, his hair… Pale and frail.
As soon as he screamed again nurses came rushing in, stopping by his bedside and checking his pulse, trying to get him to calm down. Finally, he saw the needle. His lower lip began to tremble. “I don’t want to die,” he whispered. “I don’t want to die…” He continued to say that, mumble and mutter it as they fed the drug into his blood… finally he slept. Not as soundly as the nurses would have liked.
The drug worked its way to his brain where the voices came back. They screamed at him. ‘You failed! You failed!’ And he could only whimper and beg to be given another chance. At this, the voices gentled, caressing his pale cheek. “My son,” they began, “you may have one last chance… The gun. The gun is in the drawer in the lobby. He left it there for you…” The soft lips of the voice brushed against his cheek. “My son. Do not fail us again…” Then they disappeared and he was left to sleep.
The gentle lull of the machines kept his eyelids heavy as he finally stopped tossing around and around and he slept peacefully. Clothed in the white hospital gown and bathed in the florescent light he could have looked like an angel. But, everyone who worked with him knew better. They heard what he muttered, heard that he muttered about death to all… But they did not know it would be true.
The nameless boy, the John Doe, was no older then 16, and yet… he was going to kill for his freedom. He worked by the minute, all in his sleep with the power of the voices on his side. He picked at the knots on the leather strap with his long, skinny fingers until they began to come undone. One arm would come free. Then the other. Finally, in the dead of the night… when only the nightshift and janitors were left he had undone his ankle straps. He was free, or as free as he could be until the next morning, when all hell would break loose.
He found the gun, right where the voices had said it was. Left by one of their friends in a drawer in the lobby of the hospital, it was loaded. The gun felt heavy in his hands, extremely heavy, his arm sagged slightly as he held it up and took aim. No fear coursed through him as he picked his way back to his bedroom and refastened the straps around his arms, making sure they were loose enough to pull himself out of them, after putting the gun under his pillow. He could feel to cold metal on the back of his head.
As sleep took over him he heard the happy murmur of the voices. “Good,” they said, “you have done well, my son.”
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Post by Yukino Haruno on Nov 28, 2007 19:01:39 GMT -5
LINSIE'S CHARACTERPersonal Name: Just call me Linsie please. =) Age (If wanted):14 How you found us: Static Impulse ((Which is really awesome by the way. xD)) Experience (How long you've been role playing for): At least three years. Other (Tell us about yourself, a bit... yeah): Er... Um... I'm a moody person sometimes. And I can be kinda weird. Like, crazy weird. xD I like to use smilies... cause smilies are just awesome like that. A-and I like yaoi, because it's just hot you know. Yeah, I'm done babbling. Character Basis Name: Alaina Sheal ((Shut up, I couldn't think of a better last a name. ;. ) Gender: Female Age: 18 Birthday: May 17th, 1989 Race: Human Power (If Rebmevon ONLY): N/A Government, Rebel, or Oblivious: Oblivious Sexual Preference: Straight Physical Description Hair color: Light, sandy blonde Eye color: Golden brown Skin color: A shade darker than ivory, pale. Shape of face: Heart shaped Height: 5'6 Weight: 115 Form (Slim, curvy, etc.): Some where in the middle of slim and curvy. xD Other: She likes to wear dark clothing. Stripes and sometimes skinny jeans. She's not emo though! Personality Attitude: ~Shy ~Quiet ~Determined ~Stubborn ~Friendly ~Naive ~Not much of a people person. ~Contemplative Likes: Art, literature, fashion, astronomy, cooking. Dislikes: Being smothered by friends, her family, people who lie, the city. Good at: Drawing and painting, sewing, cooking, science. Bad at: Lying, being able to tell if someone is lying, public speaking. Hobbies: Reading, drawing and painting, cooking, sewing. Habits: She tends to only eat sweets. You'd think she'd be fat, but no. She also has a habit of trusting people to much. As well as staying up really late at night. Other Past: Alaina's life is pretty much uninteresting. Born into a somewhat wealthy family, she was forced into going into a private school. A strict school that really only didn't tolerate anything. Which meant talking or fun was practically non-existent in that particular school. Which may very well be the reason of her shyness. Her family is pretty much snobs, wanting her to fit into their narrow minded view of what a proper lady should be. That has caused Alaina to dislike them. Other: Nope... =/ ROLEPLAY SAMPLE Why, why was she so interested in such a boring subject? Astronomy, what was the use of learning it? For her, art was love. Cooking and literature, both was a art. Well, in her mind. That's what she loved. Now she was reading a book about stars. How could that be considered art? Was she just being narrow minded like her drab, snooty family. She simply sighed quietly, if she liked this, why not learn more? She needed to broaden her horizons anyway. "Black holes, so that's why..." She murmured, her eyelids beginning to droop. "... Light can't escape them." She blinked, trying to rid herself of the sudden drowsiness. Pushing herself upward, she grasped the astronomy book she had checked out from the public library. Snapping it shut and laying it onto her messy dresser. To tired to put in a suitable place. Yawning and scratching her liquid topaz hued eyes, she shuffled to her window. Alaina gazed out, witnessing the city she unfortunately had to live in. It wasn't fair, really. This place was like a death trap. If the thugs didn't murder you, you'd eventually die of the smog and air pollution. What a sad way to go. She ran her small hand through her blonde hair. Her thick mane holding many delicately cut layers. She continued to survey her home. A group of older teens collected around the base of a old apartment across the street, hidden by the shadows , looking around suspiciously and cautiously. Alaina bit her lip. Wondering what they could be doing at 3 AM. Probably drugs. How sad. A urge to just get up and dessert her home town rose, but that was crazy. She would never get far. She was old enough to live by herself, but her parents would literally drag back with force if she refused to come home. She sighed and lifted her head to the sky, seeing only but a few stars. Dull, barely visible. Guess that's what happens when there are so many city lights around. Another thing why she hated this place. She grumbled, slowly making her way from the window to her overly large bed. Her pajamas already on. She preceded to lay down, dive under the warm blankets, and slip off into a deep sleep. Yet another boring day was to await the girl tomorrow. And she knew this. Her life was boring. Well... she may be wrong.
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Post by Yukino Haruno on Nov 28, 2007 19:02:08 GMT -5
RAVEN'S CHARACTER
Personal Name: Raven, or Rave. Whatever you like.^-^ Age (If wanted): 14 How you found us: A post by someone called Smutyaoifan on Quizilla. Experience (How long you've been roleplaying for): For about 4 years. You know, Neopets. A few other sites. Other (Tell us about yourself, a bit... yeah): Well, I'm can be really really hyper! And I'm a grammer freak, I can't STAND illiterates. And most of my ideas were shared wtih Smutyaoifan who gave me other ideas too. It's all thanks to her. ^-^ Oh, and 'Memories all alone in the Moonlight'.
Character Basis Name: Hanagai Gender: Female Age: 15 (She's young, I know) Birthday: June 13 Race: Human, Japanese. Power (If Rebmevon ONLY): N/A Government, Rebel, or Oblivious: It's complicated. She in the Government but she doesn't quite understand what's going on. She just does what they tell her to do. If she knew she wouldn't have join. Sexual Preference: She's bi, cause I said so.
Physical Description Hair color: Black Eye color: Dark brown, almost black. Skin color: Well, palelish yellowish, like the Japanese. Shape of face: Roundish, small, bit of a chin. Very child-like. Height: 5"5 Weight: Er...She's very light....*cough* Form (Slim, curvy, etc.): Small, slim, not curvy at all. Other: She has a bun on the back of her head, and two locks of hair going down either side of her face to her chest.
Personality Attitude: She's hyper active, childish, and care-free. She doesn't quite get that she's killing innocent people, but she does as she's told like it's a game or something. Likes: Anything purple, Dante (Um, can I put that in? I was reading the story and really think that it would be cool if she looked up to him...in a weird way. Like the older brother she never had or something), candy/sweets, animals, killing and cartoons. (lol, which one of these is not like the other?) Dislikes: Serious people, mean people, stiffs, bugs, and the dark. Good at: Acrobatics, killing, any form of physical activity, and being amused. Bad at: Math, staying calm, paying attention to anything longer than two minutes, and not being annoying. Hobbies: Watching her favorite cartoons, annoying Dante, doing what the Rekarts tell her to do, and killing. Habits: When she wants something and doesn't get it she holds her breath really long until she gets it. She also bites her finger nails.
Other Past: Hanagai was raised in Nikko, Japan, and never knew her parents. She was raised by a few ninja who still knew the old ways of taijutsu. Then at twelve she was sold to the Government by her guardians and learned everything else from there. She took a liking to Dante since he was the only one there who didn't get seriously annoyed by her and he actually payed attention to her. Other: So now she's a ninja and her main weapon is her scythe. Her actual name means 'flower scythe', and was named by her guardians.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:
"I'm boooooreeeedddd."
A small girl was sitting in her assigned room by the government, on the bed, and waving her feet about as to emphasize her boredome. There was never really anything to do around here, and she wasn't alloud to go out unless on a mission.
"I wish Dante was here..." She crossed her arms and pouted to herself. The TV room was locked, and there was no more candy left in the candy jar. That or Dante had hid it again so she wouldn't get so hyper....Well, more hyper than she already was. Then, an idea struck her. She smiled and hopped off the bed.
"Maybe I can go talk to the people in the cells!" She opened the door of her purple-colored room and leapt out, running through the halls, banging into almost everyone who came by. She then ran into the cell area of the base and stopped infront of the confirmation booth. Hanagai placed a hand on the imprint-reader and then spoke into the voice box.
"Hanagai, purple flower scythe number 16." The door opened to her command with a 'ting' and she slid through into the cell area. There, there were tons of white closed up cells, each with a little view hole in them close up with see-through plastic. She looked into one of them to find an old man sitting on a white bed. She blew a rasberry at him and banged on the door.
"Hellooo!!! Ojii-san!!! Helloo!!!" No answer. He just sat there, looking at his clasped hands. She pouted and turned around with a 'hmph'.
"Freaks."
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Post by Yukino Haruno on Dec 5, 2007 22:55:21 GMT -5
MAIL'S CHARACTER
Personal Name: Call me Mail. Age (If wanted): sixty-four How you found us: Through neopets mail. Experience (How long you've been role playing for): Approximately three years. Other (Tell us about yourself, a bit... yeah):
Character Basis Name: Takei P. Williams Gender: Male Age: Eighteen Birthday: March Twentieth Race: Rebmevon Power (If Rebmevon ONLY): Mentis Government, Rebel, or Oblivious: Oblivious (although he’s oblivious to most of it, he knows something is going on between the races.) Sexual Preference: Homosexual
Physical Description Hair color: Auburn Eye color: Left eye green, right eye blue Skin color: Light cream. Shape of face: Heart-shaped Height: 5’0” (vertically challenged.) Weight: Eighty-seven lbs. Form (Slim, curvy, etc.): Slim Other: Keeps his hair over his right eye, to cover his blue eye.
Personality Attitude: He’s actually quite nice at times, although his ‘other side’ tends to be quite malicious. Likes: Boss Black Coffee, melon bread, strawberry milkshakes, the human ‘vehicle’; skateboards, guitars, heavy metal music, the word ‘Shit’. Dislikes: Squeaky Japanese music, ice cream sundaes, crowds, breasts, horrible anime catch phrases. Good at: Guitar playing, staying up late, keeping his trap shut, dealing with injuries. Bad at: Skateboarding, video games, complying. Hobbies: Sleeping, Skateboarding (mediocre at it), Guitar Playing. Habits: Cursing, talking to his other half.
Other Past: He’d practically fallen from the sky; the day he was shipped off to the earthling planet. The confusion was quite overwhelming, of course. No, he hadn’t come to remember that he was even from another planet; though, he did realize that he was not the race as the ‘others’. Now, today, he is working in a human supermarket. Peculiar, being a Mentis, and unable to remember your ‘past’. Other: He does not know how to use his ‘powers’ as a Mentis properly.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE The uncertainty, upheaval, of being unable to remember anything, mayhem steam-rolling right under your nose; yet, you still know something is utterly off beam. He was always the unethical type of character, or at least, that’s how people always believed he was. The brutal shriek of the beeping alarm clock filled his ear drums, an audible rumble rasping agitatedly from his breath. He found himself huddled in his covers, head far from his pillow, which lay on the floor, distantly from the bed. How the hell did that get there?
With that, he shrugged gentle, sitting upward, his oddly colored eyes lidding, then unlidding. “Must I wake now? Early mornings are for complete pansies.” His tone was rather dull, as he slid from the sheets, pulling on ‘jeans’ and a ‘tee shirt’, reaching for a comb, dragging it through his nice auburn-red locks, which were slightly long, about to his shoulders.
Moving the locks to his blue eye, he traveled quickly toward the door, bending downward, to grasp a damaged skateboard, that he’d found lying in the road just days ago. Perhaps he needed much more practice, although he was still quite good with guitar playing, which he’d caught onto quickly. He guessed it was ‘lucky’ that he found the little human vehicle lying around, since he had no proposal of how to drive. Therefore, he only knew how to flatly ride it.
These thoughts aside, he began to walk out of the one-room apartment door, slamming the door shut, and locking it. He was, of course, on his way to the American branded super market, Publix, where he worked, and applied for about a week ago. It wasn’t much of a hassle, his intelligence quite high, although that didn’t matter, since he’d gotten the bag boy job. What an ineffectual job for him, having such low pay each hour, for being paid once a week
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Post by Yukino Haruno on Dec 8, 2007 23:20:48 GMT -5
ALLI'S CHARACTER
Personal Name: Alli Age (If wanted): 17 How you found us: From Static Impulse Experience (How long you've been roleplaying for): Since about March or April Other (Tell us about yourself, a bit... yeah): Well, I love to read and I write stories/fanfictions. I am very sarcastic...and uhhh, I like to Roleplay ;P “Memories all alone in the moonlight.”
Character Basis Name: Hana Gender: Female Age: 21 Birthday: February 6 Race: Human Power (If Rebmevon ONLY): N/A Government, Rebel, or Oblivious: Pretty Oblivious Sexual Preference: Bi
Physical Description Hair color: Red Eye color: grey Skin color: freckled, pale skin Shape of face: almond shaped Height: 5'7 Weight30 Form (Slim, curvy, etc.): slim and somewhat curvy Other: She has red hair that reaches her shoulders, and the tips are slightly darker than her normal red. She wears her hair down at home, but ties it into a ponytail for work.
Personality Attitude: She is just trying to get by. She's more on the destitute side of life, and she's working two jobs just to keep her apartment. She is somewhat cynical towards life, and can be harsh if someone annoys her. She doesn’t like to be wrong, and usually clams up when someone proves her wrong. She lives with her younger sister who is constantly sick, and cares for her deeply. Likes: Rock music, candlelight, moonlight, rain in the summer, and being around nature. Dislikes: Stupidity, people who can’t take a hint, snow, and opening up to people Good at: cooking and ordering people around Bad at: Dancing and drawing pictures Hobbies: Doesn’t have time…but does enjoy being alone to write in a small journal Habits: Bites her nails when she’s nervous, and tends to blow up when people tell her to calm down.
Other Past: Hana lived with her mother and sister ever since her father left them when Hana was seven. Her mother was very meek and easy to talk to, and struggled to provide for her daughters. After Hana turned fifteen, she helped her mother pay bills and got a job at a local store. Almost three years later, Hana’s mother caught a disease from the hospital she worked at, and eventually died by its effects. Hana then took her sister to an apartment and they have been living at the same place ever since. Her sister is sick constantly, having been born with a very weak immune system. Other: Hana loves her sister dearly, and would love to get out of her disgusting apartment and obtain better treatment for her sister. Working at a restaurant, Hana hears rumors about ‘aliens’ and other things she thinks are nonsense.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE Melancholy clouds drifted listlessly across the sky, promising a rainstorm later that day; the wind blew, rustling the few leaves that still remained on the ground from autumn. The weather outside was far chillier now, a typical day reaching only to forty degrees.
“I’m so glad I’m here talking to you again, mother,” Hana said, smiling. “It seems like you’re so far away….,” Hana’s voice drifted off slowly, Hana turning her head as the wind began to blow. She shivered, pulling her trench coat more tightly around her as she began to speak again, “I’ve missed you terribly, mother. Why don’t you ever speak to me?” Hana chuckled quietly under her breath.
Hana’s mother had now been dead for over three years. Hana sat in the cemetery where her mother was buried, seemingly talking to her. Most people believed her insane when they passed to see the graves of deceased relatives, but she was very much aware that her mother was long since dead and could no longer converse with her as a normal human being. Hana knew people who would visit the graves of their relatives and talk to them as though they were living…it was only fitting. She found a sense of comfort, talking to her mother. It oftentimes made her forget her troubles and all her responsibilities that still waited for her in that rundown apartment she lived in.
Hana sighed, pushing herself off the ground and into the cold air. “Goodbye, mother,” Hana whispered, turning and walking away. Several minutes later, Hana arrived back home, her sister asleep and still pale from her sickness. Hana walked into her sister’s room, the light from the window peeking through the closed curtains and landing on her little sister’s face at odd angles. She pulled a strand of her sister’s pale blonde hair from her face, smiling serenely as it just fell back into place. Sighing happily, Hana returned to the dank living room that needed cleaning. If I weren’t so lazy, I would clean this place, Hana thought with a small grin on her face. She then moved to the kitchen, preparing for dinner and for when her little sister would wake up and ask timidly for something to eat.
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Post by Yukino Haruno on Dec 9, 2007 15:44:32 GMT -5
MAA'S CHARACTER“Memories all alone in the moonlight.” Personal Name: Maa or Marii. Age (If wanted): Old enough to drink legally, if I lived in a different country that is. -__- How you found us: I got a Neomail. And I stumbled into a board. (username: whitewolfkiba_767) XD Experience (How long you've been roleplaying for): Ugh, let's see. More then five years. All I remember that I was it was the summer of fourth going to fifth grade. -reminisces in illiterate past- Oh, I was so horrible at RPing, makes me laugh. XD So I think six or seven years. -counts- ._.' Other (Tell us about yourself, a bit... yeah): Ugh well, I am infatuated with anime and manga. I absolutely love to draw, roleplay and write at times. Sweets are my biggest weakness especially anything with the brand meiji. (I swear they are geniuses! -devours choco gummies-) I'm not suppose to be around anything cute or fluffy or I'll kill it by glomping and squeezing. I think those are the basics of myself. Character Basis Name: Melanthius Thanatos ( 'Thius' for short. Sometimes called 'Melon') Gender: Male Age: Twenty Birthday: September 02 Race: Rebmevon Power (If Rebmevon ONLY): Shade Government, Rebel, or Oblivious: Rebel Sexual Preference: He swings either way, so bisexual. Physical Description Hair color: Black, streaked deep red-violet Eye color: a pale crystal blue almost stone grey, light violet when he has his contacts on. Skin color: very light tan, not really pale looking. Shape of face: Oval shaped. Egg looking. XD Height: 5' 11'' Weight: 172 lb / about 78kg Form (Slim, curvy, etc.): Slim yet slightly muscular. Other: Melanthius has a natural devious gleam in his eyes, yet at times he may have the clueless nonchalant gaze, especially when lost physically or in thought. His cheek bones are medium set, slightly sharp and leads down to his soft angular chin that adds to his mature look. His hair is parted in the middle, the front part reached down around the to height of his lips and it gets shorter towards the back of his head. His neck is long adding to the elegance of his broad shoulders. (I'll draw something soon. I usually do for all my characters.) Personality Attitude: Violent mood swings, yet he keeps to himself and is quiet around strangers. When he does somewhat open up he tends acts like a playful kid, even be blunt, stubborn and harsh like one but he knows how to differentiate when it's time to be serious and when it's time to play. However, when something ticks him off, rubs him the wrong way or is not in the mood for something, he'll just set off like a time bomb and probably go one on one with something like a trashcan, mailbox or even a person if it's that serious. Likes: Night time, foggy or rainy days, staring at shiny things like the blades of a sword, munch on anything he can get his hands on, having time to himself throughout the day, sleeping, sparring, drink at times though he's under age, picking and destroying flowers. Dislikes: The sun especially warm weather, people who can not hold a descent conversation, annoying/bratty people, when people address him as 'Melon'. Good at: Thinking to himself, getting lost, bumping into people/walls/doors/anything, sword-play, drawing, running, sewing (-gasp-). Bad at: Getting along with someone right away, getting out of trouble, staying awake, paying attention. Hobbies: Drinking, drawing, writing, climbing trees, sleeping, wandering aimlessly (which is why he gets lost) Habits: Talking to himself and inanimate objects, biting his lower lip, being in a state of half-consciousness, (his mind just simply wanders off and he seem to be awake yet empty minded) Other Past: Similar to many of his kind, Thius was born in Rebmevon. He lived the ideal life with his mother and father, he had no sibling so instead he became really good friends with a kid from his neighborhood. Thius' relationship with the other boy grew and flourish, that he even referred to him as 'brother' rather then just a friend. However all of that changed once the war broke out all of that changed. That very day when his planet was brutally attacked was the last time he ever saw his beloved friend. Both his parents dragged him out of the house and to the pods. Yet he did not want to leave until his friend was with him, but his wish was not granted. Even then, during the confusion and havoc he was separated from his parents. Thius was just about to give up on escaping to Earth, but no. He knew deep inside that he had to survive, for the sake of his friend, his parents and the chance that he might come across them later on in life. With that in mind, it became his strength his motivation to leave his planet, his home and strive for survival. Other: n/a ROLEPLAY SAMPLE A burst of icy wind blew through the open window, shuffling and playing around with the light curtains. Papers scurry around the desk top, ultimately floating off and onto the carpet. The breath of fresh air enters deeper and further in room to where a young man sat in his chair asleep. The cold wind dances around in his hair, blowing some loose strands onto his face. Mumbling in his sleep, he lifts his hand to brush away the annoying strands that tickled at his nose. "Mmmhmmm," he whines, as he strikes the pair of thin rimmed glasses that rested on his nose with the tips of his fingers. Only minutes later his hand drops, as he's back in dream land. However it was not a dream to him, it was more of a memory that has a tendency to reoccur, to play and taunt his mind as if it were a cruel joke. "I'll find you! I promise," he whimpers for the last time, before he broke from his sleeping spell, as the shuffling curtains knocks the lamp onto the floor. He sits there blinking as if disoriented for a moments and lets out a yawn stretching his stiff arms. Readjusting his glasses he stands up and goes to see what woke him up from his slumber. "Why did you have to wake me up you silly lamp?" The man asks picking it up and closing the window. Upon doing so, his eyes linger around, rubbing away the fabled 'sleeping sand' from them, he then focuses at the papers on the ground. Letting out a sigh he found it a drag to pick up after the wind. Reaching over to grab one of the papers, his light pale light blue eyes slightly widen as they fill with remorse recalling the past. For on the paper there was a small sketch of him and a close friend. "Snap out of it Melanthius, it's not going to help you if you continue mope around like a dumb ass!" Folding the paper and shoving it deep into his drawer. The man felt a mental restraint on himself and began to breath heavily, "No, this will not take over my mind.... I believe it's time to head out for a little bit." Immediately he reaches out for his trench coat and slips it over his shoulders, sticking his arms through the sleeves. Cold sweat was dripping down the side of his cheek and he rushes out the door, locking up after himself. He had the urge to run, to escape it all, to be freed from reality. But the truth of the matter was that whatever he did, he simply could not turn his back on his past. All he could do was hide under his hood and run down the sidewalk, and so he did. Running as if there was not tomorrow, as if there was never a yesterday, and feeling as if time all came to a stand still. His pace increases with every step he took, and with every step so came confidence. "I will not run away!" he yells forcing the little air out of his lungs. "I will run to search! To live and honor your memory for you are all still alive no matter what..." Thius calls out, running. Thius was not aware that his actions was grabbing the attention of those who lingered around the city at night, but even so he did not care. He just ran. He ran until he could no longer keep going, coming to a sudden and abrupt stop. Pulling down his hood, Thius, looks around trying to figure out where he ran to, hoping that he was not lost again and lucky for him he was at the city park. Catching his breath he tumbles over onto the grass, laying flat on his back and mutters some words "...even if you are not here in this life, you all are still alive in my heart." Thius nearly bursts into hysterical laugher, he felt really pathetic and found what he said to be extremely cheesy. And yet, he meant every word of it, causing a single tear to run down his cheek. The street light, not far from where he lays glistens, through deep red violet streaks, brightening the expression on his face. Reaching into his pocket he pulls out a tiny bottle of 'black label' whiskey. Prying the little bottle open, he sits up and chugs the warm refreshing elixir, until empty. He enjoys every last drop of it as he basks in the night. Thius was not a human, rather he was from Rebmevon sent to Earth once a war broke out in his home planet, leaving his all those whom he loves and cares about, behind. Being of Rebmevon decent, however, had it's advantages for he had the ability know as Shades, which is the power to manipulate the shadows at will and shape it to anything as well. "Happy happy! Joy!" He babbles ripping up a flower and tossing it up into the air, the alcohol's effect was already getting to him. Laughing to himself, Thius lays back down staring up at the sky, his glasses crooked on his face, slowly he began to doze off as his eye lids got heavy. Finally, Melanthius Thanatos fell asleep once more, only this time he was not in the safety of his home. ((Sorry, I would have posted earlier but I had a prior engagement with my art finals. ))
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Post by Yukino Haruno on Dec 10, 2007 17:13:50 GMT -5
Personal
Name: Just call me Skri. I prefer not to disclose my name. Age: You must must MUST not kill me. I wouldn’t lie, because it’s a simple act that gets you ruined on the inside in the end. I am indeed 12 years old. And no, I would lie, because lying is completely illogical and it's too easy to find out. How you found us: I was found by an administrator through Neomail on Neopets. Experience: I have been role-playing for about TWO years. I started in the beginning of summer in 2006. Other: Well, I’m VERY busy as you can tell... And I’m very anti-social, but I can talk sometimes. Like, I can be on, and just not talk. I guess I’m just like that.
Character Basis
Name: Christos Theo “Chris” Akadakia. Gender: Male. Age: 17. Birthday: December 2nd, 1990. Race: Caucasian. Power (If Rebmevon ONLY): N/A. Government, Rebel, or Oblivious: Government. Sexual Preference: Straight.
Physical Description
**CREDiT GOES COMPLETELY TO Yumi-San1688 of Deviant ART.** Hair color: A dark brown, looking to be a like coal shade of black in certain light. Eye color: A deep blue; sometimes more pale than dark. Skin color: His complexion is a fair tone, not too dark, and not too pale; mostly tan. Shape of face: His face structure is more of an oval-shape, just with a thin chin. Height: He is about 5’9, slightly tall for his age. Weight: He weighs in at about 128 pounds, only for the fact that around 43% of it is muscle. Form (Slim, curvy, etc.): He is slightly bulky with a light build underneath his clothing, but he doesn’t really show it; other than that, he doesn’t have a single curve to him, basically. Other: His ears go outward slightly, which is something he doesn’t like. The structure of his skin is basically straight, curving ever so slightly at the end; not enough for a point.
Personality
Attitude: Christos is a very laid-back person. He’s anti-social, not really much into what he has business with. He’s never looking for trouble, and despite his appearance, keeping focused is something he’s used to. He can be extremely peevish at times, but only when he needs his reason to. He’s sensitive as well, yet none of the above stops him from getting to his goals, which shoes off his determination. Likes: + Hello kitty + Skittles + Strawberries + My Chemical Romance + The Used + Linkin Park + Madina Lake + Placebo + Saosin + Reese's Pieces + Hot Topic + MTV + Friends + His imaginary guitar + Diet Coke + Chains + Ultimate Frisbee + Chess + Volleyball + Sand + Penguins + Monkeys + Any kind of candy besides chocolate + Grass + Kitties + Social Studies + Spinning chairs + SUGAR.
Dislikes: - Chocolate (Yet, Reese’s Pieces seem to amuse him with taste.) - Dogs (allergic) - Gatorade - Xbox 360 - Soccer - Baseball - His use of self-confidence - Fish - The Ocean - Sharks (Phobia) - Heights - Swings
Good at: Playing Volleyball, running, learning, homework, Algebra, Temper control, writing, hiding, and stalking. (As a few examples. If you wish for a full list, please notify me.)
Bad at: Public speaking, Baseball, Soccer, handling babies, lying, suggestions, advice, speaking up, procrastinating, and texting. Hobbies: Volleyball, Ultimate Frisbee, Idiotic dancing. Habits: Christos sucks on his left knuckle closest to his mouth when he’s nervous. He can speak loudly, and he doesn’t like it when seat belts are undone.
Other
Past: Christos Theo Akadakia was blessed his name on a brutal night of December 2nd, 1990, at 1:20 AM. He was fast to learn how to talk, walk, and even use the little boy’s room. After all of the simple steps, the staircase grew longer and longer, and soon he could not climb any longer; he gave up on himself, and even in the second grade, his letter grades were dropping. He was all so suddenly changed into a moody kid, sick of all of the parents who indulged their children; he, of course, wasn’t one of them. He was stuck like this until the night of February 5th, 1997. That very night killed him on the inside, each night he looked back at it.
On that same night, the Government had evicted their home. His mother and Father obviously fought back, and through anger, his father had stabbed a member of the Government, leaving the man in critical condition, and also giving his parents both a life-sentencing in jail. He swore revenge on the Government, no matter what it would take to bring them down. He would do anything, just anything to save the right of his parents... Or so he thought.
Christos Theo was sent to a foster home for two years, losing the education a Normal Third and Fourth Grader should gain. But, in his time, he practiced hat he learned, and moved on, taking in guesses and proving them right. On June 23rd, 1999, he was finally adopted, but he refused to even care about the family; they didn’t care for him. They treated him like a dog, and he wanted it stopped. He was told to do everything for them, almost as if he was their new butler. In the same case, he did not take their last name; it would just be a fool’s work, only to keep him in the family. Before dawn broke October 15th, 2004, he escaped from the family, finding no where else to run. After sometime, the foster family he spend five years with became carefree; they knew it had to happen. But what Christos didn’t know, was where he was to run. After several days followed several weeks, several weeks turning into several months. After a very long time he ventured his way to a place that he called hell; or, more so to say, The Government.
Two weeks passed, leaving the date to January 9th, 2005. By now he was 15, and he could take care of himself easily. He was living alone, out not too far from the main house. Through the whole time he was preparing for something; something illogical, but just enough to work. Through his time his appearance almost totally changed; his hair grew darker, his eyes turned more sensitive, leaving the dark navy they used to be, and he lost a good amount of weight. But between time and tomorrow he had gotten himself stronger, physically and mentally. On this day, almost a month before the 8th anniversary of his parent’s “death”, (Or to be known as their life sentence,) he made his strike. He attacked the government, and infiltrated the President’s room, searching for anything important. Of course, he found something, but he was then caught, and somehow kept in as ‘family.’ After several trials they figured out everything about him, and for the past two years he has been working for the government, almost forced to. He had to stay here; it was either staying here, or execution. Besides all of the flaws, he’s pretty much not your average teenager.
Other: Christos is completely against Rebmevon testing completely, but by now he is forced to attempt to capture them, for just snatch a follicle of hair, or a piece of clothing. He was assigned the job, and since he was now with advanced technology, a VeriChip was placed in his arm, so he couldn’t run any farther. They would find him, and as much as he tried, nothing would lose his clutches. If he had a choice, he would help the Rebmevon race, but he couldn’t, and it killed him on the inside.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE
SUNDAY, 4:02 AM
By this time of late night, the bustle of noise in the city very low. Many lights of shoes were dim or turned off, and cars rarely passed by. It was about four o’clock in the morning, and around these parts, it was the more quiet part of the day. Besides all of the teens staying up all night talking to their friends like ignorant fools, everyone else was probably asleep. One other soul, unfortunately, was wide awake. Scraps lined the concrete wall of the alley, all placed securely on with his own gum. They were all plans; plans for something. Plans for something illogical and impossible... Plans he was going to use tonight.
The weather was brutal on the night of January 9th, 2005; winds were rushing about, swiping things this way and that. The moon was gone, which gave it a perfect day. Christos Theo was dressed in tatter clothing, consisting of a black ripped T-shirt and dirty casual jeans. A black wool hat, found somewhere on the curb was atop his head, and the dark circles under his eyes showed that he had been up all night, yearning for this day.
He looked around his little area; little sunlight came in, and little warmth came out. He was in a dead-end alley, fixed with a crumbled wall on the other side to prevent anyone from coming through. It was the perfect place to hide; the perfect place to plan.
SUNDAY, 4:27 AM
After late in the hour Christos rose, looking to the crumbled wall. There, drawn with neon green chalk found as a resource, was a small path that led out. The arrows were plain and straight, showing which way to go exactly, to keep everything in place. Scuffing the soles of each of his shoes quickly, he got himself over to the crumbled bits, following each step onto each piece of stone, making sure to stay low. Finally he reached the top of the little mountain, only up half of a normal building’s height. He hopped down, landing on the concrete ground below. He looked around, the sidewalk plainly empty. The deli next door was open, but the owner was just washing a few left-over tables, and he didn’t mind the kid outside. Chris looked left then right before crossing the street, making sure no cars were in sight. He went left then right at the corners, then heading straight for a good five minutes. After about five minutes he reached the gates of the White House, barely guarded and secured. In an instant, Christos looked around before hiding in one of the bushes, where there had been a small opening in the gate underneath; probably why they put the bush there. He had discovered it way before, and he was glad he did. He dug more into the hole underneath the gate, finally making it big enough for him to squeeze under. He wiggled himself through, on the other side of the fence; on the other side of his future.
SUNDAY, 4:76 AM
Christos kept low, so any of the opposing guards wouldn’t spot him. quickly. He was shrouded in his own black clothing, and with his hair, it wasn’t hard to blend in. He looked left and right, surprisingly seeing that none of the guards were securing this area of the lawn. Almost like having the heart and determination of an animal he stalked quietly, staying low in the grass. After precise moved he was in a crook in the white house, between the main square of the house and the steps. He picked out his min-flashlight from his little belt, turning it on. He looked left and right for the security cameras, and he finally spotted them. He took a piece of mirror as well from the belt, reflecting the flashlight on the piece of mirror, then aiming the beam of light for the first security camera, blanking it out while he did the same for the other. He was glad this flashlight was florescent, because if it wasn’t, it might not have worked.. Since security seemed to be in the back of the White House and he was in front, he would have enough time to hide. Quickly, he pulled out a small pin from his pocket, jamming it into the lock hole up the stairs, twisting it frequently, picking out each of the miniature locks. Placing his head to the door, he continued, hearing one click, then two, followed by a third, fourth, and a louder fifth. He grinned, pushing the door open. He was in.
SUNDAY, 4:42 AM
By now he was oh so quiet. He was sure to shut the door, all to make sure the breeze didn’t follow in. He came on the side of the walls, hoping at least not to be seen. He was brisk with his movements, finally creeping into one of the smaller hallways. Dowen that hallway led three corridors; two on the left, one on the right. Taking a wild guess he took the one to the left, making sure to stay low and quiet. One door was set out; one, big door, more designed than all of the others. The boy grinned; this was too easy. He crept over to the door, ever so slowly opening it, making sure it was quiet. The room showed no sign of life. He slid into the room, but his lungs tightened up;- He heard voices... Voices and many footsteps. It was coming from the main hallway, He quickly got his way over to the President’s desk, throwing everything off. He pulled open one of the drawers located there, skimming through many of the files, finally coming upon one of the files; Rebmevon, it was labeled. He threw it open on the desk, skimming through it. Everything was placed out in front of him; information he wanted to know for so long. There was one more piece of information he had to find. He skimmed through the files, picking out one that was named ‘Murder.’
He pried it open, looking through it. “Dina and Butch Akadakia accused for the murder of J. J. Fowley...” he read aloud, thriving for this piece of information for the lonest time. “Accused February 5th, 1997... Sentenced-” He dropped his words right there. They were all lies. They spoke a life sentence, but that was not was had been listed here. Here it was listed ’five years.’ Quickly, he banged his fist on the table, quite aggravated. ’If if wasn’t for these stupid idiots... They’d be back here already... They would’ve been here already...” Slamming his fist again, he knew that he had accidentally lured in the Security, who was searching for the culprit in this crime. He could probably tell, because the foot steps grew louder, and the door opened, and seven guns were facing towards him. He put his hands above his head almost immediately, frozen in that position. He didn’t want to die. He couldn’t; even if he had nothing to live for, there was a possibility he would be able to. Even now, when they put down their fire, Christos knew something very important- This was the end of his life.
‘Memories all alone in the moonlight...’
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Post by Yukino Haruno on Jan 26, 2008 13:45:36 GMT -5
BLIND'S CHARACTER
Personal Name: Blind Age (If wanted): -- How you found us: Neopets Experience (How long you've been roleplaying for): Four years Other (Tell us about yourself, a bit... yeah): Ahh, I hate the little tell a bit about yourself...bits. Uh, not much to say really?
Character Basis Name: Damion Stone Gender: Male Age: 25 Birthday: October, 6th Race: Rebmevon Power (If Rebmevon ONLY): Fire elemental Government, Rebel, or Oblivious: Government (A Rebmevon who is on the side of the Rekrats) Sexual Preference: Men
Physical Description Hair color: Dark brown Eye color: Gray Skin color: Pale white Shape of face: Long and thin. Height: Around 6'0 Weight: 150 pounds Form (Slim, curvy, etc.): Tall, slim Other: --
Personality Attitude: Damion is, at his best, very anti-social. It's almost like he can't find a way to connect properly with people. He spends a lot of time by himself, and takes things seriously - maybe a bit too seriously. It's rare to get a smile out of him, though the things he cares about he cares about to the point of slight obsession. It's hard for him to get into a relationship, with anyone, be it a friendship, a relationship or even if it's just a one-night stand. At times he'll admit that sometimes he thinks he's going crazy.
Likes: He enjoys literature, he likes music, (varying from loud and heavy to soft and far too mellow). He enjoys what he's found on Earth in the way of 'drugs', alcohol is okay, but overall, what he likes the most, as much as Damion can like anything, would be watching movies. Though, Damion can't admit that he's not a little fond of his powers, not using them very often, but he finds comfort in the fact that they are there, though sometimes they can get the better of him.
Dislikes: Damion dislikes people, any situation that involves people. He dislikes being nagged, or having opinions forced upon him, or being nagged to follow something he doesn't believe in. He hates that he's being chased by the Rekrats, but he's aware that he can't do much else other than run and fight when the time is right.
Good at: Reading, thinking. He's good at making quick decisions and normally having them work out properly.
Bad at: Resisting temptation, 'connecting' with people, trusting people. He's bad with selfcontrol, and he's bad at staying calm if a situation has gone out of his control.
Hobbies: Damion enjoys reading, watching movies, and just sitting there 'deep in thought'.
Habits: He's got a bad habit of smoking, drinking and doing drugs. He also finds he tends to count things in sets of 'five' when he's nervous, and taps his fingers a lot when he's unsure about something.
Other
Past: Damion lived on Rebmevon with his two younger brothers, his mother and his father. His Mother had the power of controlling ones dreams known as a 'nightmare' and his father was intangible, or a 'ghost'. When they fought, as normal couples do, his mother would inadvertently tamper with his fathers dreams. This result, after several wonderful years of marriage, in a fear of using his power. He was unable to phase properly, and after prolonged disapproval of his own powers his father would phase in and out accidentally. Damion took care of his brothers while his mother took care of his father, but when the Rekarts came he signed himself up to their cause. The deal was that they would find a way to either a) suppress his powers, or b) remove the trauma of using them. Damion agreed, and they blew up the planet shortly after. He's not sure where his family is now, but he was told that they were safe within the Rekrat ships being taken care of. Damion isn't sure if that is true, and so he stays with the other Rebmevon's, working for the Rekrats, but still unsure if the other end of his bargain is being upheld.
Other: Used to have a lovely little boyfriend named Leon. Proceeded to break his heart when he was a lot younger. Probably has something to do with his increased paranoia and distrust of people.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE
((On Neopets Yukino said it would be alright if, for the application, I used an introduction I have for another character. This it that introduction. If you have changed your mind and this is unacceptable, then I would be happy to write up an introduction for Damion when school stops stealing my inspiration. As a side note, this introduction has some gore and swearing...as well as some slash. Again, if this is unacceptable, please tell me and I will find something else as soon as possible.))
"If I had a nickel for everytime...fuck that smells bad." The odour hit him in the face hard, wafting up into his nose before he had a chance to stop it. The pale fingers of his free hand reached up to the burning nostrils, pinching them closed almost delicately in some sort of attempt to keep the smell out. The only gesture his partner gave of the stench was a slight twitch of his facial muscles in some half-formed downwards frown. His eyes were, as they always seemed to be, hidden behind thick, black sunglasses, but Reno was sure that he probably wouldn't have been able to see his partner's expression in the awful lighting anyway.
"Please, please! I didn't do anything, I swear! I didn't do nothing! Just lemme go, please! My daughter! I have to take care of my daughter! I have a family, let me go! Have mercy!"
The man in front of them was quaking on his knees. The rank sewer water drenching the lower half of his legs in filth. A sticky brown mess coated the man's backside and had leaked over to his groin, having seeped through his dirty blue jeans enough that it was clearly evident. He, however, seemed oblivious to the mess. Neither the one he had made on himself, or the one that had surrounded him. Gaze focussed solely on the two black suited Turks standing in front of him. Dull, brown gaze traveling back and forth between the redhead and his gun.
"You don't have a daughter, you lying piece of shit."
The redhead leaned forward, bending his lower half only slightly so that he could look his target face to face. An almost feral excitement lilted his expression. His lips were pulled back into a snarl, before his lips parted completely, and he spat in the other man's face.
Their victim cowered, trembling hands reaching forward as the redhead stood back up, out of reach.
"I have information! I'll tell you anything, anything you need to know!"
Reno ignored him and turned to his partner, that strange half-snarl, half-grin on his still crooked lips.
"Oi, Rude, this guy's really getting on my nerves. Do you want to just off him now and get back in time for some shots?"
Blue eyes kept themselves focused on his partner's reaction, watching as the bald man's head moved only slightly to the side, before facing back at Reno again. Rude shrugged, and Reno took that as his cue.
Demonic was a word that only came close to describing the scene. Horrific did it no justice. The normally calm seeming, friendly Turk was feral. Excited, aroused, amused, enthused. Happy to have that gun in his hand, almost as happy as a child would be with a toy. The resemblance between the metaphor and reality was disturbing. His red hair was dirtied, strands falling from the abnormally loose tight black elastic. Mako blue eyes screamed more maliciousness than consolation. The gun in his hand did nothing more to taint the image, having it already tilted so far on it's side that it was dyed in black and crimson shades so dark it wouldn't be washed off. But, was it supposed to?
"Please! I have information! Useful information! I'll even give you a discount! 30 gil, just for the Turks!"
"Babe," Reno's gun was pointed between the man's eyes before he had a moment to blink. Pressed up to the flushed flesh, cold against the terrified warmth. "You're nothing more than a dead man."
A horrified sob welled up in his chest, but it never passed into sound as the gun went off. Blood splattered out of the newly formed wound, spraying backwards onto the demon and his partner.
Their victim fell back, eyes still widened in dead surprise as the corpse prepared to become another stench in the small, already cramped, filthy room.
Reno turned to take his leave and Rude followed, pausing only to try and remove a spot of blood from his white collar before exiting as well. They escaped together into sunlight. Rude first, the demon second, almost as though lingering in his element, in the blood dyed, black stained darkness that accompanied death. But, he remained in his element, having only escaped into the outer part of some other slum's hangout.
They walked side by side, Reno's gun having slipped back into his suit, a pack of cigarettes in his hands instead. His lighter appeared, and then they were both gone, only a lit cigarette remaining.
He noticed his partner staring at him, but shrugged it off anyway. Rude had a habit of doing that sometimes, giving him a look from behind his glasses that he knew was meant to reprimanding. That was meant to say, "Reno, you went over the top this time." But, Reno was good at ignoring it, and so he just smirked at his partner, ignoring the bloodstain on his cheek as they walked to the car.
A young girl approached them, screaming and shouting from the opposite end of the parking lot. She seemed to be in her late teens, pale, gaunt face still holding an image of youth in its vitality. Her long brown hair seemed frazzled, tousled out of its loose bun that flapped frantically behind her head. Her eyes were a familiar shade of brown, only this pair was alive with adrenaline.
"Daddy!" She screamed, barreling past them and back into the door they had just exited. "Daddy! Daddy! Please be okay, Daddy! I love you, Daddy! Be okay!"
Her hollering seemed to cease as she finally fell away, escaping into the room. No doubt discovering the body of the man that they had just killed. Tortured and killed.
Reno tilted his head, giving his partner a sideways smirk, as he puffed out some of the smoke from his cigarette. "The fucker wasn't lying. How about that? Think he might've had something else useful to say?" He ignored the disparaging look from his partner, and slid into the passenger seat of the car. He waited as Rude also settled himself inside of it, and started up the car.
His partner was silent. Quieter than usual, even as he leaned over to put the key in the ignition, and made himself comfortable on the black leather seat. Reno sighed, pinching the cigarette between two fingers, holding it out of his mouth, as he leaned over his partner, lips seeking the other's as he pressed against them.
"Don't be mad at me. Rufus wanted it done."
Rude's only response was a quiet grunt, as he pulled the car away from the 'scene of the crime', ignoring the shrieking of the girl who came running, sobbing, out of the room. Running around blindly in the parking lot, in complete, and utter hysterics.
Reno only laughed, and inhaled more of his cigarette, as Rude hit the main streets. The redhead used his free hand to reach down to the side of the seat, finding the seat adjustment and tilting his seat backwards. He lay almost totally vertical, crossing one leg over the other as he leaned back.
"We've got to get going. Rufus wants me back for some bodyguard shit."
Rude ignored Reno this time, concentration solely on the road in front of him, and the steering wheel under his hands. Reno only laughed, placing the cigarette back into his lips, and inhaling deeply, puffing it out in an exaggerated motion in Rude's face.
"Don't wanna keep the boss waiting."
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Post by Yukino Haruno on Jan 28, 2008 20:58:39 GMT -5
AKITA-SAMA'S CHARACTER
Personal Name: Akita Age (If wanted): 16 How you found us: The amazing Ali, of course. Had the site listed on my own. Experience (How long you've been roleplaying for): Four to five years. Other (Tell us about yourself, a bit... yeah): A bit? Ha. Very funny. Hyperactive. Beware. :U
Character Basis Name: Koriah Zane Gender: Male Age: 21 Birthday: November, 28th Race: Human Power (If Rebmevon ONLY): -- Government, Rebel, or Oblivious: Oblivious. Sexual Preference: DAMN STRAIGHT. ;D
Physical Description Hair color: Black with dark crimson tinges on the ends. Eye color: Dark brown. Skin color: Pale. Shape of face: Long. Height: 6'1 Weight: 143 Form (Slim, curvy, etc.): Slim-toned. Other: Hair comes down to his shoulders.
Personality Attitude: Has a quiet demeanor most of the time, and on rare occasions does he appear pissed or loud mouthing. He doesn't really care about his life one way or another. If he dies, he just thinks he'll go somewhere far away from the hell he's been living. Not exactly emo, just someone who has a different opinion about life. We're here now and that's all that matters. Fuck it up and you're screwed. Now it's your fault to deal with. Likes: Darkness, graveyards, sunsets, long, pointless walks half the time leading to nowhere; thunderstorms, cursing. Dislikes: Snow, bright sunny days, fire. Bitchy females. Good at: Soft-talking out of tight situations(most of the time). Bad at: Getting a girl. x) Hobbies: Reading over various tombstones, mausoleums, and grave markers when in a grave yard, especially at night with a small flashlight. Brings out the fear in you, he says. Habits: Can get himself caught staring into a sunset or a sunrise until his eyes start to blur. They seem to symbolize life and death, the rise and fall of life. Strange, yeah? Purposely getting lost in graveyards in the middle of the night, just for the hell of it.
Other Past: Up until he was about 17, he lived with his parents. Unfortunately, they're never home; except when getting into the front door at around four in the morning, laughing and whooping as if there were no tomorrow. Koriah was always seen in his room reading, or in the den trying to pass the dawdling time by watching TV or just laying on the couch doing nothing. This went on for years, and up to the point where he turned 19, Koriah got into a fight with his parents on the only day they were ever home..which happened to be on a Sunday. Arguments ensued, having him ask what the hell his parents were doing at so late of nights on almost every day of the week. Their answer: Hanging out with co-workers at a local bar until they were kicked out, as drunk as ever. He wondered at times how the hell they got home at night. "You know what? Fuck this. I'm outta here."
Two years after that people can see him lingering near graveyards and other burial grounds. He seemed to take in a near remorse for all the forgotten souls of the deathly quiet sojourns he always came in contact with. Ever since his encounter with a pile of bones in an open grave one night on his sixteenth birthday, he has been drawn to this awful habit ever since. He's so brash he takes refuge in broken-in mausoleums and sleeping with the dead. "We have to do it eventually, so why not take the time and get used to it now while you're alive?" The usual excuse when caught by the graveyard police on sleepless nights. It gets him by with a simple warning, only to be seen doing it again some weeks later.
When it's not wandering aimlessly through our inevitable fates, he's usually at a deserted park or on a bridge looking off into nowhere; ignoring the odd stares he receives from his piercing glares he shoots back at the annoying slabs of flesh. Sure, he was human, too, but can't someone at least have the decency to not stare at someone's rather strange odds and ends of their rough-shaped life? It shouldn't be that hard.
Now at the ripe old age of 21, Koriah Zane has actually gotten a reputation for himself around the small town of Oritalm that he currently resided in. 'Silent Vagabond'. Not a shabby title, seeing he was eerily silent when in contact with other people. His past wasn't that horrible, and maybe speaking of it to everyone wouldn't be the best of all ideas; seeing pity was nothing but an excuse for living. His past was nothing, his life was rather pointless to say in the least; but the things keeping him going were the ever-gentle females(albeit very few at the least) he had stumbled into over the years. Never give up on life; it's the only one you've got.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE "So this is another late-night once again, isn't it? Seems like all my nights are, usually."the low, drolling voice of a male rang out dully throughout the peaceful cemetery. With night bugs chirping noisily, and a crow somewhere far off; it gave the whole feeling of the land a haunting feeling. A few naked, gnarled, and twisted trees groaned around him as a chilling wind blew past, ruffling the long chain hanging from his black pants. Wearing a tight-fitting black shirt, it showed his taut muscles in the ghostly moonlit after hours.
Ankle-high boots clopped rhythmically through the damp, skinny gravel-paved roads of the local boneyard. Coffee-brown eyes scanned the area meticulously for any movement whatsoever; he had already been caught more than once, and Oritalm's night watchers were very well-aware of his ever-present dormancy on the grounds of the dead. Like he had nothing else better to do: Koriah was out of college, out of the house, away from any friends or people he barely knew. It was like a dead beat drumroll for the rest of his life and onwards. If he only had some action, would he get to enjoy his existance for once in his entire life.
Another draft of cold air whipped past him, ruffling his shoulder-length black-crimson tinged hair. The unearthly howls of the strong gale finally coming to a sudden halt as if it were never there in the first place. Perished. Oritalm Cemetery sure had a lot of peculiar happenings going on at night, certainly not for the faint of heart. Of course, for one as simple-minded as he, nothing out of the ordinary was a surprise to him nevertheless.
Maybe another place..another world could have been a lot more successful than this trashy dump he calls a home.
Memories all alone in the moonlight
They were memories. Plain memories. Flashbacks of his numb existance. What was the point of it? Memories that came and went in and out of his mind as he continued to live. Cemetaries, boneyards, sunsets, sundowns. It was the main round-about on this state of living. Wasn't there just anymore to it? What else was there? What was missing? He may never know, but for one thing he was in this world for a reason, and there may be no other way around it. Suicide wasn't an option: simply because it'd be a pointless attempt to get away from everything. Zane still had a lot to live for. After all, one had to live life to his fullest..did they not?
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