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PostPosted: Sun Mar 06, 2016 2:44 pm
Jessica Jones

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The Blacklist

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The Walking Dead

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The Last of Us

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One Punch Man

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How to get away with Murder

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Agents of SHIELD

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PostPosted: Sat Mar 12, 2016 10:26 pm

🙇Quality/Quantity.  Please make sure that I have something to respond to. No one-liners, (and I understand writers block) but just giving a single paragraph isnt as much to repond to either.

🙇Gender/Characters. I play as men and women with no real preference to either. I do expect doubling, especially when it comes to fandoms. Doubling is not negotiable. Original roleplays, on the other hand, can be discussed.

 🙇Limits. Rape. Abuse. Animal Cruelty. M-Preg. Pedophilia. Kinks/Fetishes. Just follow the ToS for Roleplaying, we're cool.

Meanwhile: profanity, violence, gore, romance I'm all for. When it comes to ripping off clothes and hitting the bedroom, I honestly dont give a diddly ding dong. I can write out sex scenes, it does not bother me. I can write smut (but please have some damn plot/storyline with it) if you want. All in all, I'm not afraid to write it out. Im a writer, as are you. Im an adult. It does not bother me. This can be negotiated. But, I will respect my partner's limit if they wish to FtB/Time Skip.

🙇Pairings. My preference lies with heterosexual (m/f) pairings, but I am willing to try out homosexual (m/m , f/f) pairings as well. Please ask first.

🙇Location. I prefer to roleplay through PMs. E-mails (occasionally), although I'm planning on turning this down. When it comes to THREADS my responses will be much slower due to me using a device other than a laptop/desktop, so bear with me. I dont use instant messaging systems since they never go well.

🙇Contact. If you have any questions or want to start a role-play, PM me or quote me here.

🙇Samples. Unfortunately, none. I do not believe in the concept of samples. Roleplaying should be fun, not an application. Although, I am not opposed in creating small samples. I do plan on posting some small snippet samples or so, so check occasionally.



PostPosted: Sun Mar 13, 2016 12:22 am
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Fandoms are canon x canon , canon x oc only. OC x OC are for original roleplays only. Come to me with any original roleplay if you want

●● Means you MUST be caught up with these shows. If not, you better catch up. Me included if I had not caught up.
●●●Who I can play/want to play
○○○ Who I want you to play (negotiable)
~~~I can play all/many (will be out next to the title)

In fandoms, I prefer we not follow the show/movie storyline to avoid spoilers if you or I are not caught up in the show/movie. So instead we just do a side plot while the real storyline takes place (in real life).

Jessica Jones
Luke Cage ●●●, ○○○
Malcolm Deccuase
Trish Walker
Kilgrave ●●● ○○○
Will Simpson ●●● ○○○
Hope Slottman
Jeri Hogarth
OC gaia_star

Raymond "Red" Reddington ○○○
Elizabeth Keen ●●●
Donald Ressler: ●●● ○○○
Aram Mojtabai ●●●
Director Cooper
Tom Keen ●●● ○○○
Samar Navabi
Meera Malik
OC gaia_star

Rick Grimes ●●● ○○○
Carl Grimes ●●● (must be 18+, please)
Glenn Rhee ●●● gaia_kittenstar
Maggie Greene
Michonne ●●●
Daryl Dixon ●●●
Merle Dixon
Judith (must be 18+, please)
Beth Greene (must be 18+, please)
Jesus (Paul Monroe) ●●● ○○○

Dean Winchester ●●● ○○○
Sam Winchester ●●● ○○○
Castiel ●●●
Amara ●●●
Jo Harvelle
Jody Mills
OC ●●●

Ellie (18+)
Tessa (18+)
Sarah (18+)

RWB Y~~~~
emotion_bigvein emotion_bigvein emotion_bigvein EVERYONE MUST BE 18+. emotion_bigvein emotion_bigvein emotion_bigvein
Ruby Rose
Weiss Schnee
Blake Belladonna
Yang Xiao Long ●●●
Jaune Arc
Pyrrah Nikos ●●●
Nora Valkryie
Ren Lin
Qrow ●●● ○○○
Winter Schnee ●●●
Gkynda Goodwitch
Adam ●●● ○○○
OC (please NO TEAM! Single OC only) ●●●

Saitama ●●● ○○○
Genos ●●● ○○○
OC ●●●


Director Phil Coulson
Melinda May ●●●
Grant Ward ●●●○○○
Jemma Simmons ●●●
Leo Fitz ●●●
Lance Hunter ●●● ○○○
Lincoln ●●●
Antoine Triplette ○○○
Mack ○○○

●● YOU MUST BE CAUGHT UP WITH THE MOVIES TO ROLEPLAY (If you want to include Ant-Man, he's cool. I havent watched it yet, so no spoilers)
Steve Rogers
Tony Stark
Bruce Banner
Wanda Maximoff
Pietro Maximoff
Natasha Romanoff
Thor Odinson
Sam Wilson
Clint Barton

Frisk ●●● (18+)
Chara ●●● (18+)
Sans: ●●●(18+)
Papyrus: ●●● (18+)
Flowey (18+, in human/monster form)
Asriel (18+)

Upcoming Roleplays
These are shows/movies that I have not started or are in the progress of watching.  They will be added to the fandom list when compete.

GAME OF THRONES (Started Season 1)
SHADOWHUNTERS (I prefer the books)(Only on Season 1)
SHERLOCK (Pending...)
DEADPOOL (Pending....)

PostPosted: Thu Mar 17, 2016 12:33 pm
❝ Kiera Tate Rorke ❞

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HARD training and going through a variety blood tests, mental and health evaulations, thorough background checks, and psychological interogations and interviews is how Elizabeth Anne Kessler spent her two weeks at SHIELD as a new agent. It was a genuine surprise, although expected, that everyone here at SHIELD was friendly. Well, as friendly as they appeared. She learned everyone's names and faces from Director Phil Coulson, Skye. Melinda May, Jemma Simmons, Leo Fitz, Hana Manning and Grant Ward pretty quickly. Well, she already knew Grant Ward and what he looked like before hand.

Melinda May was assigned to be Elizabeth's S.O. by Phil Coulson's order that she frequently trained with in combat and weapons. Even with Elizabeth's background in the military, they just want to "refersh" her skillset. Little did they know, Elizabeth had more than one skillset up her sleeve. She had to be careful, though. She downplayed her strength, speed, agility and most of her unnatural abilitites a great amount to avoid any suspicions on who and what she really was that would blow her cover. Not one person in SHIELD or HYDRA had an inkling, and she rather keep it that way.

 Her back was against the brick wall of the training room, her legs sprawled out in front of her. Elizabeth lowered the front of her body, the tips of her fingers touching her toes, feeling the stretch and pull of her limbs and muscles. The sounds of rushed, determined, and forceful footsteps perked her ears and her skin began to crawl as the hairs stood on in at the same second that Melinda May came into view. She rushed towards Elizabeth without warning and lunges a incoming punch at the same time she rises to her feet.

Catching her fist, Elizabeth whips Melinda around and slams her against the wall. A brief jab to Elizabeth's side, she pulls away with a grunt of pain and recovers quickly, blocking Melinda's furious kicks. Elizabeth dropped low, kicking out her leg, sweeping Melinda's legs out from under her.

Elizabeth dodges and blocks most of Melinda's attacks and when the opportunity to strike comes up, she takes it. Striking out her leg, Melinda catches it with ease. Elizabeth twists her body and brings her free leg to strike Melinda, sending them both to the floor. Tucking herself into a roll, Elizabeth jumps to her feet, lunging at her S.O. Holding back, that was all Elizabeth was doing. Holding back, they dont know the real extent of her fighting ability. Her fist shoots out-

-Melinda takes Elizabeth's arm and yanks her over her shoulder with a shout,  slamming her to the ground. Taking this advantage, Elizabeth wraps one leg around Melinda's and the other around her arm and pushes herself backward, landing herself ontop of her S.O. With the two ladies breathing heavily, Melinda nods her head at her trainee. Their heads both turned at the sound of Skye's voice.

"Wow. That was like, amazing. You know, when I was training with Ward I couldn't move for days. I was so sore, I wanted to die. Seriously. You've been here for two weeks and you recover so quickly...." Skye folds her arms over her chest. "I'm kinda jealous. You sure you're not taking magic steroids or something?." The girl was obviously joking and walks further into the training room, standing by Elizabeth's and Melinda's side. The quirky good looks between Elizabeth and Melinda."You should train with Ward sometime. He's a killer in training." She says to Elizabeth, and pats her shoulder with a smile. "You probably would regret it though."

Elizabeth shakes her head with a smile, and rises to her feet, extending out her hand for Melinda to take, pulling her up on her feet. "What was all of that for?" She asked Melinda. Melinda rolls her shoulders and her neck.

"To see if you're ready to go on the field," the specialist says. "And I say, youre pretty damn good. Strong. Hit hard as hell. I think you're ready. I'll go report to Coulson."


There’ll be no rest
There’ll be no love
There’ll be no hero in the end
Who will rise above

And when it ends
The good will crawl
The shining light will sink in darkness
Victory for hate incarnate
Misery and pain for all
When it falls



PostPosted: Thu Mar 17, 2016 7:20 pm


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"Got any 2's?"

"Go Fish."

Leopold Fitz swore he didn't know how he ended up playing two rounds of Battleship, Connect 4, and now Go Fish with Skye. He was assisting with Director Coulson with the  malfunctioning holotable and had gone out of his office for a wee bathroom break. Agent May was storming past him with a determined look on her face and he was going to ask if she was alright - but realized it was training day for the new SHIELD agent, Elizabeth Ressler - before two hands wrapped around his upper arm and pulls him off his feet.

Skye. Grinning with a mischevious glint in her brown eye.

"Skye, what are you doing?" He asked with a wide-eyed, bewildered look on his face. There goes the male restroom. "I have a bladder emergency and you're -" his sentence was cut short wity Skye shushing him, her fingers covering his mouth.

"If you win two rounds of Battleship, you're free to release your bladder.

"May I ask why?"

"Ward's mad that I sank his battleship and he had to toss out $20. He's just mad that I'm that good."

But two rounds of Battleship turned to Connect 4. And Connect 4 turned to Go Fish. Fitz didnt want to know what the next game would be with Skye. Probably I Declare War.

"Got any 4's?" Fitz asked, his hand digging into the pretzel bowl and picked up a couple of cards that he dropped as Skye says, "Nope. Go Fish. Oh! Here comes Hana-Banana."

Hana?! Fitz turned his head all over too see where Hana may be approaching from. When his gaze fell upon her incoming presence, he tossed the cards on the table and sat up straight, folding his hands. On second thought, that looked weird. Propping his elbow on the table, he lays his chin in the palm of his hand. No, not that either. Suddenly, Fitz was on his feet. Crossing his ankle over the other, he leaned against the table and braced his hands on the table behind him. Yeah, thats it.

"Hana!"He greets with a smile, scratching at the tip of his nose. He looks over his shoulder at Skye who stared at him back with a grin. He rubbed the back of his neck as he explained, "I was just uh...I was just about to come back to the lab to see you and Simmons. I had to help the Director with holotable malfunction. Then...Skye came along..."

"...and we're playing Go Fish." Skye finshes his sentence with a grin, grabbing a handful of pretzels from the bowl and stands. "I'm gonna go see May and Elizabeth train. See ya!" She salutes and makes her way out of the area, leaving Fitz and Hana alone. Once Skye was out of the room with a few agents passing around, Fitz turns his undivided attention back to Hana, releasing a soft, embarassed chuckle. "I'm sorry, I didn't know how much time has passed. Im sure you and Simmons were worried. Are you two doing well without me?"

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PostPosted: Sat Feb 18, 2017 6:29 pm
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Cold often dulled the pain, but now it just made Anastasia's eye scream in irritation. The pain building was enough to cause a migraine, though she tried to block it out in silent meditation. Pressing the palm of her shaking hand against her temple, Anastasia's eyes shut tight and she inhales and exhales slowly. A warm presence beside her, followed by a light and large hand, Anastasia lifted her bright blue but tired eyes high to the giant. With balding brown hair, typically light blue eyes and a large, thick moustache always hiding a kind smile with a scared face similar like her own, and wearing his classic original black suit with gold lining, Zawisza stared down at the heiress with genuine concern.

“Are you alright, Miss? Are you harmed? Do you need aid?” He asked, sticking his hand into his jacket to retrieve his wand. Seeing this, Anastasia raised her hand to stop him. “No. Dont. I’m fine. I promise. Just a migraine.” They couldn't just wave their wands as freely as they could back home in London. America was … much more complicated and strict with magic as her father had told her before they boarded the boat to go overseas. If Zawisza were to withdrew his wand right at this moment without knowing who or what was around and watching in this unfamiliar territory, Anastasia didn't want to think of the consequences. Not from the MACUSA and their punishments. No, she was much more afraid of her father and what his consequences were once he found out. And from personal experience, they were never pleasant. Anastasia raised her hand to the crooked scar against her left eye in memory, tingling at the still tender touch.

Zawisza withdrew his hand from his jacket and folded his hands behind him, giving her a light bow. “As you wish, Miss. You must be starved from the long trip. Why don't we find something for you light to eat before supper. Ah. What about this place, here?” He motioned his head to the building behind the heiress. A sweet, thick aroma of baked bread and pastries caught Anastasia's senses, turning to see the building they coincidentally stood in front of.

Kowalski's Quality Baked Goods. "Would you like to go inside?" Zawisza asked, standing beside her, Zawisza placed a gentle, leading hand on the handle, holding the door open for her. Giving him a thankful nod, Anastasia entered inside the bakery, followed by the giant. The bell dinged at their entrance.

Zawisza had to hunch over to fit inside the bakery, his balding head touching the ceiling. "Looks like I'm a wee bit too large to fit inside this lovely, small place, aren't I, Miss?" Feeling a smile coming on her face, even with the migraine still pounding in her head, Anastasia covered her smile with her hand. Zawisza had urged her to take a look around as he stayed by the front door.

The bakery was already busy with customers. Picking and choosing their items, purchasing their goods, or making light small talk with the staff.

"Welcome to Kowalski's Quality Baked Goods, how may I help you?” Greets a short and jovial man. A head full of slicked black hair, thin moustache and a slight overweight build. An apron placed on top of his black vest, tie and long-legged white dress shirt. “Jacob Kowalski. Owner of Kowalski's Baked Quality Goods.” Anastasia noticed Jacob's brown gaze lingered on Anastasia to take in her appearance; long platinum blonde hair styled in both curls and braids. Full, dark brows that complimented her clear blue eyes and fair, almost pale, skin. The cooked scar she bears on her left eye. Anastasia’s clothes were known to be eye-catching and not like like the current fashion. Anastasia wore a white, floor-length dress, split into a v-shape at the necklike and fastened together at the top where an equally long cape fell behind her. Jacob’s gaze then slowly shifted from Anastasia and slowly grew wide, mouth dropping open, as they rose high up to the ceiling as they fell upon the giant's, smiling face.

Jacob swallowed thickly at the sight at the unnaturally tall man. He had never seen a man of such...height. “Whoa…” he gasped and cleared his throat and shaking his head. Right. Customer. “Pardon me, f-feel free to t-take a look around, doll. Credence there-" he points out to a young man by the register. "- will take care of you at the register.” He flashes the heiress a smile before greeting other customers. The pastry display by the register caught Anastasia's attention. Bread and pastries shaped into the forms of familiar beasts that Anastasia didn’t recognize. They were all so adorable and quite well made. Raising her gaze to the register, she finally noticed a boy around her age standing behind it. The owner had mentioned his name, but that was already gone from her mind. What was it again? The thing that drew her attention to him was his uneven bow, followed by his dark eyes - eyes . He wore a black necktie and a brown stripped vest above a long sleeved shirt and a white apron, the rest of his body blocked by the cash register, but what her eyes stared and lingered on was the necklace around the boy's neck.

Anastasia's eyes immediately avoided looking at boy any longer, abruptly falling back down to the breaded beasts. Her still shaking hands clasped tight in front of her, the crooked scar aching as much as the dull pain in the back of her head. “I'd like that one, please. The…” she leans close to read the menu, eyes squinting. “.... Niffler bread.” A smile, but small, directed at the cashier as she points out, “You got flour in your hair.”


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PostPosted: Sat Feb 18, 2017 7:17 pm
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Something strange has been going on around in the Halliwell estate, but not just there, but also around their respective village that was in the heart of Evermoore, and Marianne Halliwell could not put her finger on it. There was a time, just a few days ago, of an uproar of a few shopkeepers that their things - that are shiny - have been turned up missing; one minute they were there and the next, gone. A thief on the loose, they say. And that thief is still at large, although no one has not seen the presence of it.

A lot of things have been missing as well in the Halliwell estate. It all started when John’s sterling silver pocket watch had disappeared. Jonathan was highly upset that it was missing, he did not blame the absence of his pocket watch on the sisters, but on himself for maybe misplacing the item. But as he looked high and low, it was nowhere to be found. Then more and more things have been missing as the days had gone by; jewelry (necklaces, rings, earrings, bracelets), coins, John’s flask, even small statues that had been taken within the house. When customers, witches and wizards and no-majs/muggles alike, stayed at the estate, dubbed as an Inn, some of their belongings had ended up missing as well and most were not happy.

"Mary, what in God's heaven are you doing?" Mattie asked. Mary was on her hands and knees on the floor, reaching her hand underneath the receptionist desk. Turning her head to look up at her eldest sister, Mary pulled herself up to sit on her knees. She bumped her against against the edge of the desk and let's out a painful whine, clutching her throbbing head, tears immediately filling her eyes. Ow, ow, ow. "I dropped my bracelet-" she hisses through the pain, rubbing the sore spot to soothe it. "- the sterling silver one with the amethyst gemstones? It fell underneath the desk and I can't quite get it. I tried to move the desk, but it was too heavy." Crawling out from underneath the desk, Mary lifted herself to sit in the cushioned wood chair.

Mattie just sucked her teeth, shaking her head. "You could've asked John for help. Melody called for you upstairs to help gather laundry. Go on help, I'll take over for now. I'll make sure to have your bracelet back to you." With a sigh, Mary rose to her feet, taking a last look down at the floor where her bracelet was laying before making her way up the spiral staircase to the second floor, lifting the ends of her dress.

The sound of something heavy hitting the floor made Mary pause in her stride, brows furrowing in confusion. What was that? "Grams?" Mary called out for her great-great-great grandmother. Agatha "Grams" Halliwell was a ghost that lived on the estate way before she and her sisters were even thought of. Apparently, Grams had died a gruesome death due to a potions accident. The apparition of Grams appeared before the young Halliwell. Mary was only seventeen and she still had to get used to her popping in on them like that. Grams was literally everywhere her non-corporeal body could take her although she could never leave the estate. She would wander around and outside, but anything further, it would just weaken her. She was quite a chipper ghost in the estate ever since the Halliwell sisters had moved in.

"Yes, dear?" Grams smiled at her granddaughter.

"Was that you, Grams? Making that noise?" she asked. The confusion that pinched her great grandmother's face told all that was needed: she didn't know what Mary was talking about.

"What noise?"

Suspicions confirmed, Mary shook her head and made her way down the long corridor, Grams close behind. The noise was close by. Last room on the left. Looking down the long hallway to make sure no one was around (other than Grams), Mary proceeded to open the door as quietly and slowly as she could as to not alarm with whatever or whoever was inside. Letting her eyes wander around the room through the small crack, the door creaked further open and felt the strange and familiar brush of cold as her Grams’ apparition went through the door.

They locked gazes. No one moved. No words spoken. Not even a sound of breath. He was the one to speak first, flashing the young girl a wide and warm, crooked smile. "Hello," he greets and Mary picked up the British accent. "Hello," Mary returns the greeting, eyes narrowed in suspicion as she took one last glance down the hall before taking a wary step inside the room. Taking in the twigs and leaves in his dark ginger hair, the dirt and dust staining his navy blue trench coat and face. The mustard-colored vest, black bowtie, and the large suitcase in his hand. “Who are you?” she asked.

“Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, but you may call me Newt. And you?”

“Marianne Halliwell. How’d you get in here?” her large brown eyes squints at the tall, scrawny man, then around the room, trying to take in how in the world did this man get inside here. The estate was at least three stories high, included the attic which was home for their Book of Shadows and occasional general storage. There was no way that this man climbed himself up that high and into the window without any trouble.

“I climbed.”
He admitted bashfully, his eyes lowering to the floor as Mary took a step back. Newt didn’t know what to do, he looked around their surroundings to only see they were alone. She was just a simple, young girl. She wasn’t harmful. Atleast, that’s what he thought. His eyes lifted up the Marianne as she began to speak in a quick rush that Newt didn’t quite understand at first:

Let this girl,
quick as a sneeze.
Stop this snit,
and quickly freeze.”

The young girl chanted with a triumphant smirk upon her face. Newt frowned at the pressure surrounding him, locking him still at where he stood. He lowered his eyes down to his feet and willed his body to move. No. He was literally unable to move. What’s this? Newt wondered, brows furrowing in confusing, lifting his eyes back up at the young woman. Did she just -- cast a spell? Without a wand? But how? Not many witches or wizards could cast spells without their wand, not impossible, but quite difficult. Witches and wizards used wands to channel their magic, but this young woman just enchanted a spell right before his eyes without the help of anything but just her voice. What was this place? Who was this girl? What...did he get himself into?

“Melody. Melody. MelodyMary yelled at the top of her lungs for her big sister, alarming Newt. “There’s a British burglar in the house!”

Burglar?! “What? Burglar? No. No, no, no. You must have me mistaken! I’m not a - I would never! I assure you I am not a burglar, Marianne.” He tries to explain. “I was just looking for something. It led me here. You have to believe me, there’s something in your house that should not be here.” Marianne stared at Newt with large, alarmed and uncertain eyes. All Marianne knew that there was a strange man inside of their house and claims that there’s something in the house. How would he know? Has he been here before?If he did , Grams and Frank would’ve notified the sisters instantly. The only ‘thing’ that’s in the house was Grams….and whatever was stealing all of their, the village, and the Inns’ customers personal belongings.

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PostPosted: Tue Mar 07, 2017 10:37 am
• █ █ █ ██ █ █ █ •F.A.Q.s• █ █ █ ██ █ █ █ •

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☪.。.: xxxx :.。. ☪ ☪.。.: xxxx ☪.。.: xxxx :.。. ☪

:.。.✿*゚ Do You Roleplay Fandoms?
:.。.✿*゚ Yes

:.。.✿*゚ Do You Roleplay Originals?
:.。.✿*゚ It depends. Not really big on originals unless I have a big craving for it which I rarely do.

:.。.✿*゚ Do You Roleplay Groups?
:.。.✿*゚ No

:.。.✿*゚ Are You Ditch Friendly?
:.。.✿*゚ I've ditched, you've ditched. It happens. Life happens. Although I hate it when I have a good roleplay in the making or starting one when the roleplayer just poofs without reason or warning. I do my best to tell my potential roleplayers that I'm no longer interested, and I hope you can do the same.

:.。.✿*゚ Where Do You Prefer To Roleplay At?
:.。.✿*゚ My main preference are private messages. But I can also roleplay through [private] threads, and Skype and Email.

:.。.✿*゚ What Kind of Pairings Do You Do? Do You Do Same Sex (slash //) Pairings, Too?
:.。.✿*゚ I play both male & female character. I will not just play a male to your female character without you returning the favor. As I am female, I mainly prefer my pairings to be m/f. I am also interested in doing m/m (m//), just ask nicely, though (although if you come at me with that top/bottom - seme/uke thing, it'll be immediately rejected). If we are in a fandom, I happily enjoy canon/canon and canon/oc. Oc/oc are not much enjoyable in fandoms, though, but they are welcome. I rather keep the oc pairings in the original roleplays only (unless stated otherwise)

:.。.✿*゚ What Are Your Limits Regarding Roleplaying?
:.。.✿*゚ My limits regarding roleplaying are animal abuse, domestic abuse and rape (can be mentioned but I do NOT want to roleplay it out), BDSM, m-preg, pedophilia, beastiality, kinks/fetishes, killing my or your characters off, anthro, monster girls, incest, anything with minors and wide age gaps. As for gore and profanity and sexual themes, bring it on!

:.。.✿*゚ Do you Have Samples?
:.。.✿*゚ Are samples a job application? Is it part of a cover letter?
Cause last time I checked, they aren't. If you simply rely on samples just to determine if we are fit for roleplaying, then I am not the one for you. And don't bother looking through my posts. You won't find anything worth reading anyhow. So, no. I don't have samples and I'm not going out of my to conjure any up for you. I guess you're going have to let Jesus take the Wheel and trust your gut in my roleplaying abilities.

:.。.✿*゚ How much do you write per post? Post word count? Are you advanced lit? Lazy-lit? I need to know these things to make sure we're super compatible roleplay partners and if i like your writing enough to roleplay with you.
:.。.✿*゚ If you need to know all that information, then we aren't compatible. All you need to know is that ill never write less than a paragraph (unless it's serious writers block) and never a one line sentence. I write enough to move the roleplay along. If we can both read and write, we are both literate. But if you're the kind who really, really needs to know, I'll say this: Intro posts are usually 5-10 paragraphs long depending on my inspiration while on average, it's normally 2-6 paragraphs. It may vary. I try to keep filler words out.

:.。.✿*゚ Do you double or prefer single main characters?
:.。.✿*゚ Doubling! Love to double. I'm one of those people who likes to make things fair. But the also downside of doubling is the thing where some characters (like OCs) get more attention than the other characters. It happens. Single main characters in fandoms I believe don't really work that well. . It's not impossible, but can be difficult, so I would recommend having side characters/npcs for single characters in a fandom. Know what I'm saying? I'd also like to have and kind of prefer single main characters (m/f, m/m, f/f) for original roleplays.

:.。.✿*゚ I'm a female roleplayer and only play the female in roleplays. Can you play male for me?
:.。.✿*゚ No. Please read the previous question about doubling and single characters as well as the question about the pairings and characters I play. The only way I'll play the male to your female character is if we double. No exceptions unless stated otherwise.

:.。.✿*゚ Are you an active roleplayer? Do you post daily, or once a week or once a month?
:.。.✿*゚ I'm an active roleplayer. I actually prefer to have other active roleplayers. I love the constant and fast back-and-forth posts in a day or throughout the week. Those are the ones I keep interest in. I post daily, depending when my partner posts or when I get around to it. Once a week or once a month makes me loose immediate interest, so those are a deal breaker, but this is exempt if I've been roleplaying for you for a while and know your situation and you're serious about roleplaying, otherwise it's not going to work out. If you want to take a break, that's fine. But those once a week or once a month roleplays won't last long. Active roleplays and roleplayers are the best.

:.。.✿*゚ I see you're online. Bumping your thread. How rude! How come you're not responding to our roleplay quicker while you're online?!
:.。.✿*゚ Calm down. I'm probably busy or idle online. Bumping thread to get more attention from other roleplayers. although I post daily (or try to cause of work), I'm not able to respond as quickly as I can. But you should know that the roleplay will be up as soon as possible even if it's not in the same day, holy Cannoli. Patience is key, my friend

:.。.✿*゚ Do you like smut? Do you like aliens and monster girls? Will you do fulfil my fantasies? Are you about that kink life?
:.。.✿*゚ Giiirl. Lemme tell you. I love the smut. I don't mind roleplaying the smut. Gimme all the smutty smut smut there is! But smut cannot be the focus or plot point of the roleplay, otherwise it's just cybering which I aint about, and I’ll lose interest. When it comes to roleplays and smut, let's do it! But I cannot get graphic with it every time as I grow bored so from time to time fade to black works just as good. Monster girls and flurries and aliens are a no-no as they are a limit of mind (please regard my limit question above). They don't interest me and never will. But am I about that kink life? No.

If you have any other questions that is not located here, feel free to quote or send me a question through PM!

:.。.✿*゚ Contact Info
:.。.✿*゚ Private Messages (PMs)
:.。.✿*゚ Threads
:.。.✿*゚ Skype: bluebubbleroses100
:.。.✿*゚ Email: breakingbookshelfs@gmail.com
:.。.✿*゚ Kik ShadesofSugar



PostPosted: Tue Mar 07, 2017 4:57 pm
• █ █ █ ██ █ █ █ • FANDOMS • █ █ █ ██ █ █ █ •

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☪.。.: xxxx :.。. ☪ ☪.。.: xxxx ☪.。.: xxxx :.。. ☪

☪.。.: It is clear that I have a small list of fandoms, all I am happily apart of. More will be added on when I find much more interesting shows and movies.
I may not always want to play an OC that I made, I may use another canon character from another TV show or movie inserted into a specific fandom simply because I think that it be interesting.
☪.。.: I have the right to decline a roleplay for any reason if I feel we may not be a good fit. If that's the case, I have no problem working something else out.
☪.。.: When you come to me, you have to have some idea of what you want to roleplay. If you don't know, don't waste my time.
☪.。.: I do not like roleplaying and following the storyline of shows & movies simply because I do not like rewriting things that has already happened with just OCs inserted. Therefore we must come up with our own storyline or side plot while the actual TV show is still airing. As for movies, it must take place after or we can make up our own storyline or side plot.
☪.。.: Remember, I do canon/canon and canon/oc in fandoms. oc/oc are okay in fandoms, but I don't like them much (unless stated otherwise). i also prefer m/f for my main pairings, but I am also interested in m/m, too, but come to me with top/bottom, seme/uke type characters and I will immediately reject it.

☪.。.: xxxx :.。. ☪ ☪.。.: xxxx ☪.。.: xxxx :.。. ☪

-̶̶•-̶̶•̸Ϟ•̸•••̸Ϟ•̸-̶̶•-̶ Supernatural -̶̶•-̶̶•̸Ϟ•̸•••̸Ϟ•̸-̶̶•-̶
☪.。.: For this roleplay, you MUST be caught up with all 12 seasons, and the episodes. Just reading the Wiki page does not count. No exceptions for the sake of spoilers.
☪.。.: As the pairing of Destiel is a beloved and popular one, I will not roleplay Destiel for the sake of pure smut and fluff purpose with no plot or storyline. I will roleplay Destiel if asked nicely, but I will prefer my main pairing is m/f.
╭☆╯Who I can play: Sam and Dean Winchester, Mary Winchester, Castiel. Rowena. Crowley. Kevin Tran. Bobby Singer. Charlie. Lucifer, etc OCs.
╭☆╯Who I want you to play: Sam Winchester, Crowley, Kevin, Rowena. OCs.
╭☆╯PM Me With The Quote In Subject Line: Saving People, Hunting Things, The Family Biz


☪.。.:You must be caught up with ALL 4 Volumes
☪.。.:For the sake of Volume 3, lets pretend “IT” never happened. Everything's fine. Everyone is fine. Nothing ever happened. Ever.
☪.。.:If you have a RWBY OC (no teams, just ONE character, although your team can be side characters/NPCs) please link me their [finished] profile or send me a separate PM with their info.
☪.。.:All characters (and OCs) are 18+ older for this roleplay
╭☆╯Who I can play: Ruby, Weiss, Blake, Yang. Ren, Nora, Juane, Pyrrha. Sun, Neptune. Penny. Ozpin. Ironwood. Qrow. Raven.Taiyang. Winter. Cinder, Emerald, Mercury, Neo. Torchwick. Salem. Watts. Tyrian. Hazel. Glynda. Adam. Other cast of RWBY. OCs.
╭☆╯Who I want you to play: Qrow, Adam, Tyrian. OCs.
╭☆╯PM Me With the Quote in the Subject Line: Boop

-̶̶•-̶̶•̸Ϟ•̸•••̸Ϟ•̸-̶̶•-̶ One Punch Man-̶̶•-̶̶•̸Ϟ•̸•••̸Ϟ•̸-̶̶•-̶
╭☆╯Who I can play:Saitama, Genos, etc. OCs.
╭☆╯Who I want you to play: Saitama, Genos, Speed ‘o Sound Sonic. OCs.
╭☆╯PM Me With The Quote in The Subject Line: I'm Just a Hero for Fun

-̶̶•-̶̶•̸Ϟ•̸•••̸Ϟ•̸-̶̶•-̶Mystic Messenger-̶̶•-̶̶•̸Ϟ•̸•••̸Ϟ•̸-̶̶•-̶
☪.。.:I haven’t played all of the routes (other than Yoosung's and got good ending) or any of the DLCs, but I love all of the characters equally
╭☆╯Who I can play: Zen, Yoosung, Jumin, Jaehee, 707, Rika, V
╭☆╯Who I want you to play: Jumin, Yoosung, 707
╭☆╯PM Me With the Quote in The Subject Line: Did You Receive a Mystic Message?

-̶̶•-̶̶•̸Ϟ•̸•••̸Ϟ•̸-̶̶•-̶MCU -̶̶•-̶̶•̸Ϟ•̸•••̸Ϟ•̸-̶̶•-̶
☪.。.:Never watched Guardians of the Galaxy.
╭☆╯Who I can play: Tony Stark/Iron Man, Thor, Loki, Steve Rogers/Captain America, Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier, Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow, Sam Wilson/Falcon, War Machine, Pietro Maximoff/Quicksilver, Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch, Vision. T’Challa/Black Panther. Steven Strange/Doctor Strange. OCs
╭☆╯Who I want you to play: Doctor Strange, Thor, Captain America. OCs.
╭☆╯PM Me the Quote in the Subject Line: He's Adopted

̶̶•-̶̶•̸Ϟ•̸•••̸Ϟ•̸-̶̶•-̶Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them̶̶•-̶̶•̸Ϟ•̸•••̸Ϟ•̸-̶̶•-̶
☪.。.: If you want a Percival Graves X Credence pairing, you have to convince me as I'm not a fan of this pairing, but I know many people are.
☪.。.: Tumblr has ruined the Percival x Credence pairing, is all. You better make it worth it. Make. It. Worth. It.
╭☆╯Who I can play: Newt. Tina. Queenie. Jacob. Percival Graves. Gellert Grindelwald. Credence Barebone. OCs
╭☆╯Who I want you to play: Newt, Credence. OCs.
╭☆╯PM Me with the Quote in the Subject Line: Just a Smidge

̶̶•-̶̶•̸Ϟ•̸•••̸Ϟ•̸-̶̶•-̶ The Walking Dead̶̶ •-̶̶•̸Ϟ•̸•••̸Ϟ•̸-̶̶•-̶
☪.。.: For the sake of TWD, I recommend that you must be caught up with ALL 7 Seasons. No exceptions.
☪.。.: And for the sake of the S7 premier, let's pretend “IT” never happened. Everyone is safe and alive and happy, mmkay? No hiding underneath dumpsters, anymore.
☪.。.: No Beth x Daryl. No, just no. Yes, I'm one of those people.
☪.。.: I will not play Negan for pure smut and fluff purposes. Tumblr also has ruined me with the Negan X OC pairing, sadly. Make it worth it.
☪.。.: I'm not familiar with the comics as I don't read comics so everything will be based on the TV show. No comic spoilers, please and thank you.
╭☆╯Who I can play:Negan. Dwight. Rick. Daryl. Michonne. Maggie. Glenn. Abraham. Sasha. Rosita. Spencer. Gabriel. Carol. Carl. Shane. Beth. Tara. Denise. Eric. Jesus. Ezekiel. Eugene. Morgan. OCs.
╭☆╯ Who I want you to play: Rick, Glenn, Daryl. OCs.
╭☆╯ PM Me With the Quote in Subject Line: Stuff 'n Thangs

̶̶•-̶̶•̸Ϟ•̸•••̸Ϟ•̸-̶̶•-̶ Resident Evil 7: Biohazard̶̶ •-̶̶•̸Ϟ•̸•••̸Ϟ•̸-̶̶•-̶
☪.。.: In this roleplay, I will accept all canon/canon, canon/oc and oc/oc pairings as well as doubling and single pair characters.
☪.。.: I would prefer that this roleplay takes place after the video game where we make our own plot/storyline with either the main canons or OCs going through something similar in a different setting, etc.
╭☆╯Who I can play: Ethan. Mia. Clancy. Lucas. Zoe. OCs.
╭☆╯Who I want you to play: Ethan, Clancy. OCs.
╭☆╯PM Me with the Quote in the Subject Line: Welcome to the Family!

•-̶̶•̸Ϟ•̸•••̸Ϟ•̸-̶̶•-̶ X-Men •-̶̶•̸Ϟ•̸•••̸Ϟ•̸-̶̶•-̶
☪.。.: Movie verse only
╭☆╯Who I can play:Charles Xavier, Erik Lensherr/Magneto. Jean Grey/Pheonix. Scott Summers/Cyclops. Ororo Monroe/Storm. Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler. Marie/Rogue. Kitty Pride/Shadowcat. Bobby/Iceman, etc
╭☆╯Who I want you to play: (Young) Charles Xavier, (Young) Erik Lensherr, Logan.
╭☆╯PM Me with the Quote in the Subject Line: What do they call you, Wheels?

PostPosted: Tue Mar 07, 2017 5:51 pm
• █ █ █ ██ █ █ █ • IT'S ME • █ █ █ ██ █ █ █ •

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☪.。.: xxxx :.。. ☪ ☪.。.: xxxx ☪.。.: xxxx :.。. ☪

☪.。.: Name's SugarTrap. Call me Sugar, Trap, ST.
☪.。.: Resides on the East Coast of the USA
☪.。.: In my early, roaring 20s
☪.。.: Quite a friendly person. Introvert. Spends too much time on phone, internet, and not enough in my fictional books like I use to.
☪.。.: Works two-ish jobs, but have plenty of free time, and most of the time don't know what to do with myself.
☪.。.: Currently Craving:The Walking Dead, Fantasic Beasts and Where to Find Them, MCU (Avengers)

☪.。.: xxxx :.。. ☪ ☪.。.: xxxx ☪.。.: xxxx :.。. ☪



PostPosted: Wed Mar 29, 2017 9:16 pm
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Annalise Kittanning

The woman had been laying in the backseat of the dead car for less than twelve hours.

With the sun rising, rays bleeding through the deteriorating tinted and dirty window, landing straight on her face, it slowly roused Annalise awake. The rain from the previous night had now slowed to a light drizzle, and just as she felt herself slipping into another daze, something kept her awake, alerting her of its presence. Finally opening her eyes to the morning light, her tired gaze focused on the roof of the car.

Annalise listened as a Biter came shuffling by. No doubt aroused by the change in light, Biters were always particularly active in the first few hours after dawn. She didnt question where it came from or how long it had been around. Nevertheless, she was indifferent to its presence. It had been a long time since she had been afraid of Biters. At the start of the outbreak, everyone’s focus had been on protecting themselves from the dead ones, on finding somewhere safe to lie low.

Turning her head, she was face to window with the Biter, it's grey face pressed up against the smeared and dirty glass, fingers clawing as if they're trying to get through the barrier. Having its dead sight locked on the living, warm flesh, laying in the backseat, Annalise could easily become this Biter's breakfast for the day if she allowed it, if she opened that door. Not that she had much meat on her bones to begin with for a Biters meal. She wasn't skinny but she had muscle and had a toned build, if that counts. But what did they care? Biters weren't picky; they eat what they can get. Annalise resumed watching the Biter claw helplessly at the glass, snapping it's hungry decaying jaws at her. Her eyes travelled to the roof once more. She knew she had to kill it to avoid attracting other ones, if it hasn't already.

She vaguely remembered the Biter herd that had passed through last night. She had just climbed in the backseat of the dead car, settling herself inside before the herd came into view. Listening to the unison of snarls and moans of the dead as they passed through the road, from the woods. It wasn't a large group, thankfully. She had forced herself to stay awake until it passed. Forced herself to hold her knife and gun in hand, loaded and both combat ready to take on the herd, even if she did die try-
Her thoughts were broken by a bang on the window, her gaze immediately shooting to the almost forgotten Biter against her only protection that separated them, as if telling to her pay attention.

Sitting herself up, she watched the Biter watch her as she pick up the back pack and swung it around her shoulders, the weight of it was heavy and familiar, the long barrel of a gun peeking out from the top. She watch the Biter watch her pick up the rifle, slinging it on her shoulder. Her gun and knife left on the floor of the car, sliding them both into their correct sheaths and positions. With her gun in place in its holster and on her hip, the knife positioned on the other side, she leaned over to reach for the handle.

The door to the car swung open, hitting the Biter. It stumbled backward and trips over nothing but it's own feet. It landed heavily on the wet asphalt, snarling and thrashing around as it tried to orient itself. Looking at it blankly, she observed the sunken features and bulging eyes. It wasn’t all that old…a fresh one, she realized. The Biter looked straight up at her, it’s dead eyes flickering with more interest now that she was within arm's reach. She was slow to act; it had already reached out for her, its hand flailing to grab hold of something of hers, clumsily smacking her leg before grabbing the material of her pants, pulling itself close to take a bite before she plunged the knife through its eye.

Kneeling there, Annalise stared into the vacant eyes of death.
A small white maggot wiggled out of the punctured socket she had just pierced and she watched it’s progress down the Biter’s face and back into what was left of its nose. Her empty stomach immediately twisted at the disgusting imagery and her nose crinkled before standing up straight. Her ears taking in the sound of the light drizzle of rain against asphalt and earth.

Past the light drizzle, Annalise's ears also picked up the faint sounds of Biters in the distance. Letting her eyes fall to the dead one on the ground at her feet, a dark pool of blood had already stained around her shoe, slowly being washed away by the water. Annalise took back her knife from the Biters head, and wiped it on her pants leg.

Growing desperate in her search for water at one point, she had headed into the woods for a short while, only to find herself disoriented when night fell faster than she expected it to. She had been lost then, wandering around the woods without purpose, without progress. She had a run in with a group of people to her disbelief and temporary irritation. She didnt stick around long enough to see if they were good or bad people for that was answered when one of the members had groped her ass. They led her out of the woods to the road and killed them before they could kill her. Annalise searched their bodies, relieved them of their weapons and what ammo and items they had and left them before they could reanimate later.

A distant rumbling broke her from her thoughts, making her turn her head. As this dimly registered that the rumbling sound was a car, she found herself moving backwards, her body acting automatically to move her out of harm’s way. Relocating to the side of the road, where gravel met the asphalt, Annalise raised her eyes up the slope of the road to watch the top of the crest, waiting.

The car hurtled towards her, swerved and missed her. Only mildly interested with a bit of detachment, her gaze followed as it passed her. Standing motionless, she turned her head on the spot and watched as the large car hit the gravel on the side of the road, knocking into a Biter that was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It tumbled along the ground, it's limbs bent in angles that no normal person would potentially survived. It settled for an attempt to slither itself along the ground until it gave up.

The driver slammed on the brakes and brought the car skidding to a stop, almost crashing into the very car she was sleeping in earlier.

There was a long moment in which nothing happened. Until the sound of snarling that was once in the distance, grew louder and soon the Biters emerged from the woods. Annalise's gaze shifted to the idle car, back to the incoming dead, to the single dead biter at her feet. Her hands already curled around her loaded pistol at hip and the other clutching the hilt of her knife still in her hand.
PostPosted: Wed Apr 26, 2017 12:29 pm
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Daryl Dixon

He crouched low to the ground, minimizing the sounds of his presence as he slowly inched towards his target. A single deer grazed at the ground, unaware of its prey locking in on it. With his loaded bow raised to his eye level, Daryl took aim and paused. The deer jerked it's head up, ears twitching at sounds that he couldn't hear. His own gazed traveled around the area. With his bow raised to his eye level Daryl took aim at the deer, finger hovering over the trigger. Rustling of leaves, and a snap of a few twigs sent the deer running and emerged into view were walkers. They shuffled out of the woods. Jaw clenching, he pulled the trigger. The arrow struck the walker in the head. Turning and reloading his bow again, he fired another round. Slipping the strap of his crossbow over his head, he snatched his knife from it's holster and drove the end of his blade into the base of the walker's head. Retrieving his arrows from the corpses, Daryl scanned the woods for any sign of the escaped deer, and when he didn't, he made his way out of the woods.

The small region of Oakland, just south of Alexandria was silent as Daryl slowly passed through. The stench of death lingered, the streets littered with abandoned cars and the occasional corpse. It was clear that others had been here before, as indicated by the clear roads and various broken windows. Each store had been plundered at some stage, people scavenging for things they most desperately needed. Passing each store and looking inside, Daryl suspected he wouldn't find anything useful, most of the stores had been pillaged long ago. He walked down wide streets, creeping past abandoned stores, eyes alert and trained for any suspicious movement, combat ready. Turning a corner, Daryl stood at the entrance of a small neighborhood. His eyes lifted to the street sign above: Brighton Ave. There were too many houses to check by himself. If he were with Rick and a few other members of Alexandria, it would be a much easier task. For now, Daryl would have to stick with one.

It was a two story house with a wrap around front porch. One of the front windows were broken. Approaching the house, he stood in front of the front door and pounded his hand on the front door. Sighing impatiently, Daryl raised his crossbow, moving over to the broken window in front of the house and waited. It was pretty well known not to just walk into a building and hope the walkers announced themselves. Best to draw them out. A minute passed with no sign of walkers inside before Daryl slung his crossbow over his shoulder. He stepped through the broken window. He slowly made his way through the house, stepping over toppled furniture. He was already fast at work towards the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets and drawers to find any signs of food; canned goods, canned fruit, dried fruit, sealed bags of white rice, a couple jars of peanut butter, and whatever he could find. He shoved it all into a discarded backpack on the floor.

A shadow passed by, and he turned just in time to see a large and heavy walker coming for him. Daryl neither heard or smelled the walker that came at him, and there was no time for him to jump back and put some space between them. In an instant it had reached for him, grabbing at his jacket and pulling him towards it. Using all of his strength, he threw himself against the heavy walker, using it's own heavy weight and lack of coordination against it. It fell to the ground with a snarl, ripping a piece of his jacket with it, but he was agile enough to stay on his feet. Daryl acted quickly before the walker could manage to get itself back on it's feet again. Moving behind it, he raised her leg and drove his boot down onto the skull, easily crushing the soft bone. He repeated the motion again and again, until the limbs finally fell to the floor and his instincts told him that danger had passed. Stopping, Daryl turned on the spot, picking up the bag of items and proceeded his way through the house, making his way up the spiral staircase to the second floor of the house. Three doors on the right, two on the left and on the other side of the hallway was a window.

Resting his curled up fist on the wall, he banged once, twice. Raising his crossbow in silence as he waited for the walkers to announce themselves. A couple minutes passed and his ears picked up the sounds of snarling walkers. Inching towards the first door on his right, Daryl reached for the door knob and slowly opened the door, immediately taking a step back as a walker emerged from the room. He took down the walker with an arrow through it's head with ease. Going through each room and disposing walkers, Daryl approached the very last room at the end of the hall. Turning the knob and swinging the door, he braced for impact of a walker crashing into him. Nothing. Taking a tentative step into the room, lingering in the doorway, he scanned the small bedroom. It was quiet. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he turned just in time to shove a walker away from him that snuck up behind him. The walker stumbled and crashed into the wall on the other side in the hallway. His head turned to peek the incoming group of walkers making their way up the stairs. They must have followed him from outside into the house somehow. Slamming the door shut, Daryl shoved a bookcase in front of the bedroom door, barricading himself inside.

Walking around the bedroom, seeing most of it was clear and safe, Daryl approached the closet door. Reaching out, he yanked the door open, aiming his bow at the empty space. Pushing hangers and clothes out of the way, his gaze lowered to the rustling of clothes on the floor as a walker rose from the pile. As the walker reached out to grab Daryl, he dodged out of the walker's grasp,moving behind him, and struck the walker in the back of the head with the butt of the bow. It stumbles forward, crashing into the bookshelf. Approaching the walker and finishing it off, he looked up, barely getting out of the way as the bookcase fell. His body hit the floor and a sharp pain seized his leg, more so in his ankle. His crossbow scattering away from his reach.

Attempting to assess the damage, Daryl groans, pushing at the heavy bookcase. Sharp, hot pain struck up his leg, spreading through the rest of his body. Breathing heavily as small dark spots swam across his vision, it was only a matter of time before the pain wiped him unconscious. When he came to, he jerked, startled. A blast of hot pain crashed through, a wave a nausea arose. Walkers still pounded their hands at the barricaded door, snarls muffled from the other side, but still alerting their presence. Raising his head, Daryl braced his hands on the edge of the bookcase and pushed. It gave way very little and even with the slightest movement blasted another wave of pain. Groaning, he let his head hit the floor again, hands falling at his sides in defeat. Chest heaving, sweat forming, Daryl stared at the ceiling. Taking a deep breath, Daryl looked down at the bookcase laying on top of the lower half of his body, planting his hands on the flat surface of the shelf.

With a yell, he pushed. Slowly, the weight of the bookcase budged. Through the pain and the struggle in his arms, he continued on and turning the position of his hands, he lifted the bookcase. Sliding his body back, he withdrew his leg from under the bookcase and releases. Drawing his injured leg close, Daryl leaned close to examine the damage. His hands shook as he pulled up the leg of his pants. Shaking fingers gently ran over the tender, and visibly swollen ankle. Jaw clenched tight at another wave of pain surged through his body, Daryl lowered his head, muttering a curse under his breath. Lifting up his head, his ears perked up at the increased banging on door. The bottom of the bookcase that Daryl pushed against the door would only hold them for a limited time. It wouldn't be long until the door gives in and walkers flooded the room. Daryl reached over for his crossbow, slinging it over his shoulder. The backpack filled with food on his shoulder. Looking around the room, Daryl's gaze landed on the window that lead out onto the roof of the two story house. Pulling himself across the floor, he braced his hands on the wall and slowly rose himself up on the floor. Putting his head out of the window,m he looked down. It wasn't a much of a high drop, but with his ankle injury, it could make it worse.

His head turned over his shoulder to see walkers already shoving themselves through the crack of the door, arms and hands flailing in an attempt to reach for him. Daryl carefully slipped his body out of the window, mindful of his injury. A tug on his backpack prevented him from moving toward. Looking back, a walker had grabbed the strap of his backpack. Daryl yanked on it, sending him over. He tumbled down the roof, catching himself at the last moment on the edge, his body dangling over the roof. Daryl looked down at the ground, his fallen crossbow and backpack laying underneath him. Looking up, Walkers hung halfway out of the window, arms and hands reaching for him. Others pressed their dead faces and hands against the window. Closing his eyes briefly, Daryl releases his hands.

The impact of hitting the ground, Daryl clutched his ankle. He turned on his back to see an incoming walker shuffling towards him. He turned to reach out for his crossbow, but it lay just only a few inches out of reach. The walker lowered itself down and Daryl held it back, bracing his arm against the walker's neck, keeping his head and snapping, decaying jaws away. Fingers curled around the hilt of his knife, he drove the blade into the base of the walker's neck and shoving the heavy corpse aside. Pulling himself against the ground, to his loaded crossbow, Daryl fired another two rounds into, the soft bone of walker's heads, emptying his weapon of arrows. He rose onto his feet, pushing the pulsing pain shooting up his leg and limps over to retrieves his arrows. Daryl reloaded his bow and slung the strap back over his shoulder and picked up the backpack as well. Taking one last lingering look over his shoulder to the house where he fell from, walkers managed to crawl their way out of the window, tumbling down the roof and falling the short distance to the ground, crushing their heads against the ground.

At last, his injured ankle prevented Daryl from moving anymore forward. He lowered himself down on the porch step, extending out his injured leg, placing the backpack underneath for some leverage to lessen the pain.



PostPosted: Sun Aug 13, 2017 8:56 am
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He groaned in a mix of digust and irritation. All he wanted was a simple, quiet night filling and poisoning his liver with ale and sleeping in a nice bed for the night. Instead he was stuck in between two slurring drunks rambling on about the other's relationship issues for the past half hour. They talked his ear off even though he wasn't part of the conversation. It just made the scar on the left side of his face twitch and throb in irritation for probably it too was tired of listening to their babbling.

The man on his left was Edmund. He was a tall and the lankiest bastard he had ever seen. Not one ounce of muscle, just skin and bones. Was he not getting enough meat in his diet? He had a skin as pale as snow with blue-green veins visible against the ivory tone of his skin. His long dark hair and dark eyes was a creepy contrast to his skin that made Trevor either think he was either a vampire or a ghost. It sort of freaked him out. He needed to get out in the sun more often, if he didn't burn. Trevor had even double-checked his ears for the pointed tips to make sure he was not part of the supernatural. All good He wore a wrinkled white top with trousers that seemed a bit too small due to his long, willowy frame. The man on his right was Dillion. He was on the shorter side and overweight. He had more rolls than the any royal king at his dinner table. He had beady light brown eyes and light brown hair pulled back in a small ponytail. With a crooked nose from perhaps a previous fight, it complimented the thin but wide mouth and uneven crooked teeth. He wore a dark colored top with one part of his collar down and the other side up. His trousers were too big for him and the slightest movement forward rose his top up just a smide to revel the crack of his hairy arse to the world to see. Disgusting. He was the one Trevor had to suffer to hear about his relationship problem with his wife.

"And so's I says to 'er 'what's wrong with my dick?' and she says to me laughing: 'It's as small as my pinky toe. You think I'm going to f*ck someone with a baby dick anymore?' And you want to know what I's says to her, Edmund?" He slams his cup down loudly on the bar counter with a thud, releasing a loud rotten belch from the deep of his belly.

"What? What you says to her, Dillion?"

"I says to her 'You may think my dick is small, but there are plenty of other women dying to f*ck me! Baby dick 'n all! You never had any problems with my dick before until now! I wouldn't want you even near my dick with those horse lookin' teeth of yers anyhows! I want a divorce!"

"And did you get the divorce?" Edmund asked mouth agape with interest and shock. He looked stupid.

"....Bloody f*ckin' hell I didn't. After I said that, she threatened to cut my dick off, roast it, and feed it to Dolores, our pet dog as a treat! f*ckin' b*tch she is! Oi! What do you think?

A harsh nudge in his side pulled Trevor from his slow rotting and sobering thoughts. With a tired groan, he lowered his gaze down to his empy cup, not even a drop left behind. He tilted the cup upside down to make sure his eyes were not tricking him. Yep. All out. Great, he thought dimly. He tilted his head to look at the overweight man on his right up and down, giving him a one shouldered shrug. "If you want my opinion, I think... The two men leaned in closer on each side. Trevor points at his empty jug. "....I think I want another serving of ale because I don't care about your stupid little problems about your sh*tty relationship. Bartender!"

He held up his empty cup to the bar and inkeeper behind the counter. He was unaware of the newcomer that had made their presence in the bar, nor did he take notice of the conversation going on. "Another ale. Immediately." The last part Trevor murmured. The innkeeper nodded his head, wiping his hands with a cloth. "Alright, but I'm going to need to see some coin from you first this time. With a groan, Trevor begins searching through his pockets and clothes for the small pouch of coins while the inkeeper temporary left to tend to other customers. Where did I put that bloody damn thing...

His hand paused mid-search at the commotion and conversation his ears finally picked up. Turning in his seat, he caught the sight of one of the drunks at the bar go down in a flat second and to his right, where Dillion sat, he went down as well recieving an elbow to the nose. His heavy weight broke the barstool he was sitting in and he went down clutching his gushing nose, yelling in pain. Blue eyes lingered on the fat man beneath him, feeling little to no remorse for what happened. Served him right, the bastard of a pig. Then raising his gaze to the defender of her assailants, Trevor was almost surprised to see a woman standing there. A bit on the small side and he briefly wondered how she could pack such a hard punch for her size. She looked almost proud of her work until three men had surrounded her, one he had recognized as the guy on his left as Edmund who looked like he had no chance against anything in his life, not even a fly.

The woman took a stance, ready to fight and the men were approaching her quick. Looking back towards the innkeeper to see him being focused on the approaching fight than working on his ale like he requested (even though he wanted money first) Trevor sighs heavily. "Looks like I'll be getting my ale later then.." he muttered under his breath as he raised himself up to his feet with a grunt. He slowly approached the crowd gathering in the area. Catching the movement of a man pulling his arm back and curling his hand into a fist in an intent to land a punch, Trevor extended his hand out and wrapped a handful of the man's long, dark hair around his hand and pulled his head back forcefully exposing his bare and long neck to him his body bent backward. "Ack! the man grunts in pain as dark brown eyes looks up at Trevor, tears raising in his eyes at the pain from the angle of his neck, body and the pull of his hair at his scalp.

"Oops. Dreadfully sorry, I thought you were a woman from behind. It's the long hair, my bad. Besides, didn't your mother ever tell you it's wrong to raise your hand at a lady?" Trevor reprimanded, releasing his hair and sweeping his legs out from under him. As he went down, Trevor reeled his boot back and gave a swift kick to the man's head, knocking him unconscious. One down, two to go.

"No fighting!" Yells the innkeeper, slamming his hands down on the counter of the bar. With a huff, Trevor whirls his head in his direction. Oh, now you want to interfere when we start to fight?!

"I'm still waiting on my ale!" Trevor retorted with a growl and movement activated in his perpiheral vision and he ducked at the incoming punch that was just a heartbeat away from smashing his nose within his face. Grabbing the man's hand, Trevor spun on his heel and hauled the man over his shoulder, raising his foot to slam into his back. He crashed into the bar, his head bouncing off the edge with a groan and slides down to the floor. A gash formed at the top of his head, blood flowing from the wound as well as from both of his nostrils. Eh, he'll live. He looked over at the woman to check if she was alright and if she needed any more assitance. He opened his mouth to say something but the inkeeper took his attention from her to him once more. "Not until I see money from you!"Briefly forgetting about the girl and the guy, Trevor focused his attention on the innkeeper who's nostrils flared and large moustache twitched in irritation. The two men held a eye staring contest until Trevor aims his pointer finger at Dillion who was currently unconscious. Fat arse couldn't handle a simple elbow to the nose. Pathetic.

"Put it on this bastards tab! He was the one who started all of this sh*t! I want my ale and grant that woman her room for the night like she requested now before this pissing fight is over! You hear m- Trevor stumbled backwards, sentence cut off as something was pulling and yanking at his coat. Turning, Trevor unclasps the hooks from his coat and it flutters free from his body. The man who had grabbed hold of him stumbled backwards until he landed on his ass, the thick material covering his body. Raising his hand to his throbbing head, Trevor closed his eyes and groaned. He definitely needed that ale right now. His eyes popped open at the accusation from somewhere in the room.

"Wait. I've seen that crest before! I've seen it! That's a Belmont crest. Yer a Belmont, aren't you?"

Well... sh*t.  
PostPosted: Sun Aug 13, 2017 8:14 pm
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She knew death. Although they were not friends, she had almost encountered death as well as witnessed many of those she knew that was close to her die. Her mother, Vallisia, was the first death she had witnessed. She was just a child then, not quite understanding what was going on even though it was by her father's hand and further on with the rest of her family. Her friends had also perished that she had witnessed, taken by the Black Death that swept through her Homeland, taking the lives of hundred of people. She had almost encountered death herself. Defeating her father in a long, bloody, and taxing battle. From the wounds by his sword, his fangs, his hand, his magic.

She knew hate. It came from the depths of her heart. She hated for not knowing what her mother looks like or not remembering what her voice sounds like. She hated her father for killing her mother and the rest of her family so he could be the only one she could turn to. Isolating her from the world to hide the dangerous and demonic half of what her father fully was. Sheltered her from her friends and family. Exploiting her when she finally rebelled against him declaring that she did not want to be in his shadow, that she didn't want to follow his lead, that she didn't want to be with him. She hated him for leaving her alone when she needed him the most even through all of the bad times she endured being raised by him.

She didn't hate humans, but greatly disliked them. She hated vampires.
But most of all she hated herself. Of what she was because it was also the words her father had drilled into her mind growing up. That she was both dangerous and weak. She couldn't chose what side she wished to become nor can she pay attention to one side more than the other.

She didn't know love, but she knew loniless.
She knew anger.
She knew betrayal.

The air was heavy with the bite of an incoming winter but it didn't have no power over the overwhelimg scent of iron lingering heavily in the air. What was once filled with life, now all lay still in an internal sleep in the small village miles away from the nearest town of Gresit. Bodies lay inhuman angles. Limbs twisted, broken, and pulled form their joints. Innards, bits of skull and brain matter and other types of gore strewn across wood and soil, sinking and staining the man-made materials and snow-covered earth. One would have thought a massacre had came through the village with the amount of dead bodies that lay scattered across the lands, but dead men don't speak. If there were any survivors, they would have done the smart thing and had ran like the others before the real damage could have been done.

But the massacre that had encountered the small town was not by a mob, nor by the deadly beasts that occassionally raided at night. If the dead could rise again and speak to the ones who crossed through this town, they would have accused the being of the small town massacre a woman. A woman? some would scoff in disbelief. What type of woman could do such a thing? No woman is capable of doing anything in this day and age. A bunch of rubbish! Some would counter with, Well, she didn't look like a woman at first. But more....beastly. Looked more like white angel of death itself than a woman. Hair, white, with a hint of blond, as the snow beneath your feet pulled high on her head, the right side of her sunken, skeletal face covered with an eye as blue as a cloudless sunny day. She wore a long white fur stained coat and underneath was another coat, knee-length with her arms upper arms exposed with blue lining with a red brooch. Underneath was a blue vest with a white top. White pants with garters incoporated into them that conncted to heeled boots reaching her mid-thigh and black gloves covered her hands. A long sword stationed on her right hip. She was beautifully ugly. Until she smiled.

Why? Was something wrong with she smiled?

Fangs. Razor sharp, small. Then her blue eyes slowly turned as red as the blood that had spilled across the soil. She was merciless, ruthless. She did not stopped even as she drank from their wildy pulsing necks with fear. She did not stop until every last person in this town, in her sights were dead.

.And what of the children? Their mothers? The animals?

They left the moment she started killing. She did not attack them and those who had already perished, well, she continued on until the last body fell. And afterwards, she still lingers in this dead, ghostly town. Regretting. Looting the cold corpses with fear and agony still twisted on their faces, their homes for anything valuable to take. Still regretting.

The small blade of the dagger sings as she swiftly withdraws it from it's shealth, holstered on her left thigh and drives the bloodstained metal into the wooden trunk of the dead, leafless tree with more force than needed. It splintered and cracked from the inanimate wound.

"Shut. Up." Celine Vallisia Gallo whispered irritatedly at herself, pressing the palm of her black gloved hand against the right side of her eye as it suddenly throbbed in pain, but moreso at the story that played in her mind at the damage she had caused the previous night in a mind that did not belong to her, but the other, demonic and dangerous half, according to her dead father. Her vampire half that since she was a little girl, was forced to hide from the world, but not that night. It was the hunger that forced her to take those lives If she hadn't she would have starved and maybe have died.

The blood still coats the back of her tongue in an invisible film from the deceased lives she took as she savored the lingering but fading taste. Her inhuman senses heightened, kicking into work. Past the heavy scent of human blood, past the distant screeches of something supernatural, was cracking of fire and the sickly sweet and sour stench of human flesh burning, but moreso, even past that, was the soft crunch of footsteps that did not belong to her. Coming in the dead, massacred town. There were still bodies she had to burn, bury. She couldn't get to all of them at once. Perhaps by nightfall if she took care of whoever passed through. Celine's left hand move to the hilt of the longsword sheathed comfortably on her right hip and slowly draws the blade a few inches from it's cover.

She slowly backs away from the burning pile of bodies, scanning her area, trying to pinpoint where the footsteps were coming from. And she paused, a brief wave of nausea spreading through her body. She felt it coming and the second her knees hit the ground, the regurgitated contents spilled forth in a mix of slimy pink bile and chunks, her eyes blurred with tears that threatened to spill. Covering her mouth with the back of her hand, her stomach heaved once more releasing nothing. With the other, she covered the vomit with snow and dirt. Briefly closing her eyes, mentally reprimanding herself that she had overfed as her chest rose and fell heavily. It meant that her body will absorb what blood it needs, and whatever was left over, she would regurgitate and also resulting in a temporary illness that lasted from either half an hour to perhaps a full week, maybe even longer. She had killed lots of people the previous night, unsure of how much blood she had taken in in that moment of miserable hunger.

But still, her vampire side still screamed for more blood. Her other half now rumbling for human food. In the bag that was slung over the front of her body, she had the decency to pack herself a few rolls of hard bread, cheese, meats, and a jug of water (she stays away from wine and any other alcoholic substances). Feeling that the wave of nausea had passed, Celine sits back on her knees, wiping at her mouth finally and inhales the cold air, the blood and the sweet and sour stench of burning bodies next to her. Pulling the cloth stained of her fur coat around her, she wraps her gloved fingers around the hilt of her sword once more. Withdrawing the blade a few inches from it's sheath once again, Celine had not moved, still as a statue.

"Who's there? she calls out, her voice soft, unable to rise as loud as she'd like, but enough to be heard keeping her eyes scanning on the snow, dead village for any movement. There was someone here, she knew it.  



PostPosted: Sat Sep 02, 2017 11:49 am
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