CLOSED SIGNUPS A Tale of Regrets (OOC; Sign Ups)

FrozenTear

The Sorcerer of Delusions
Original poster
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
(+8) 7:00pm
Writing Levels
Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Adaptable
Favorite Genres
High Fantasy, Fantasy, Modern-Fantasy, Anime; Divine Politics
Genre You DON'T Like
Anything that has to do with Romance and Furs.
~A Tale of Regrets~
Rating: M, for Doom and Gloom


The RP has started: IC

A young man's empty gaze turned into the burning sky. The sun was slowly setting, and he could feel the grains of sand trickling down his hourglass. The crimson fire eventually gave way to a calm violet, and he closed his eyes. He let himself fall from the bridge into the watery depths below. There were no screams, there were no tears; There were no final wishes, only the sound of a splash.

A mother had just dropped off her kids at school after her usual morning rush. She went to her favourite coffee shop to get herself a cup of latte before heading back to work. Traffic was quite bad so she thought she would park her car across the street. She bought her coffee, but never noticed a man shadowing her. She didn't show up to pick her kids up after school.

A couple was walking down a busy street, in his hands were quite a few shopping bags but he smiled happily as his girlfriend continued to walk down. They were buying things for their wedding next week. She pointed at the window of a jewellery shop, and he saw a locket that would look very nicely on her. He then saw the silhouette of a truck from the window's reflection.

A salaryman was half drunk as he had just finished drinking with some colleagues. They had just sealed the deal and made their company a lot of money. All his works were worth it at the end of the day. He was walking down the staircase after arriving at the subway station. He stepped on something and slipped. The last thing on his mind was all the things that he didn't delete from his computer hard drive.

A young girl curled herself into a ball in the living room. She was humming a familiar tune as she sat in the couch. It was a lullaby her mother sang to her. On the dinner table was a note and a 10 dollar bill. "Sorry, but I can't stay anymore. Please take care." None of her neighbours realized that she hadn't left her home for a very long time.

A sickly woman lay on the hospital bed. She no longer had hair, and she hated every moment that she had to stare at her own bony figure at a mirror. Her eyes were blazing with life, but she could feel her life slipping away despite all her efforts. The skies were so blue today, but she wondered if she could see tomorrow's light. She closed her eyes, only to never open them again as she lost herself in the grasping cold.

A man was carrying his brother in arms. The mission was a failure. The intel provided by their inside man was bad and half the unit was wiped out by the enemy. He looked at the youth he was carrying. He told him that he was going to go home and get married with his sweetheart this coming summer. He gritted his teeth as he dragged him from the fire zone. Then he saw a familiar face waiting for him at the end of the line, and the muzzle of a gun.


~A Tale of Rebirths~
Settings: Modern, Supernatural
Theme: Regret, Rebirth
Rating: M, for Doom and Gloom


So you died.

No matter what kind of a person you were, you only need to know one thing: You died and came back. Your old life was lost, and it is up to you to do with the new.

Some chose their rebirth to fix their regrets, to do what they couldn't in their past life. The sickly woman walked under the sun confidently as she "miraculously" defeat her disease, and became a motivational speaker to the youth of the next generation. Some chose their rebirth as a sign to avenge the wrongs. A lone man stood inside room filled with dead men, and he stepped on the chest of a former comrade who was begging for his life. He offered him the muzzle of a gun in his final moment. Some chose their rebirth to repent and offer succor to the living. A man poured hot stew into the bowl of a homeless man in a soup kitchen. He was wearing a locket and inside was a picture of his dead fiancee.

And then there are the ones that Death has special plans for.

A young man living under the bridge in Central Park was rumoured to have a healing touch and very potent green fingers. Crime rates have dropped due to a masked woman fighting crimes solo in the middle of the night. A salaryman used his talents to detect others' desire to help him with his business deals and helping a female detective to uncover corruption. A young girl realized that she could interact with echoes of the dead and befriended them, while solving her own personal issues.

And you were one of the latter.

As it was written, your old life was lost and it is up to you to do with the new.

And so, what tales will you weave for Death to read?

In this RP, you play as someone that were brought back from death. Your characters literally died, but for some reason were jaunted back to life. When you were brought back, you were also given a gift - or even gifts. There seemed to be no strings attached, only that you have to settle whatever messy aftermath caused by your sudden revival although few recognize it as such due to the extremely short moment between life and death. They simply thought it was a miracle that you survived your ordeals, although deep inside you knew that it was something different...

The entire plot point for YOUR characters is this: What will they do with their second chance?



~Notes~
  • Players: 1-4
  • Posting Expectations: Elementary/Intermediate is fine. Do the polite thing and react to everyone (when relevant); avoid one liners.
  • Posting Speed: A post every 2~3 days. If you can't post please let us know.
  • Character Background: Must have died once.
  • Character Appearance: No real people. Just no.
  • Character Powers: Anything goes. However, please avoid OP powers. Anything that starts with "omni" is banned as usual. You can have more than one powers, but it must be thematically relevant and I expect weaknesses to go with them.
  • Character Deaths: ALL characters can suffer from the most grievous wounds and survive. That being said, lose your head or your vital organs like your brain/heart and you will still die. Characters also still age normally.
  • Number of Characters: One main characters. Unlimited NPCs. NPCs are to be without any supernatural powers. Please keep note of your own NPCs and I reserve the right to kill them off if they become too disruptive.
  • Rules: Standard Iwaku rules apply.


~Character Sheet~

Feel free to modify the character sheet for your own use.

Name:
Appearance:
Skills & Talents:
Supernatural Powers:
Biography:
(Please include details on how your character died and was brought back.)
Others
:



~Accepted Player/Characters~
ERode ERode - Huo Ying Yue
Huntress Huntress - Cassandra "Cassie/Cass" Brighton
Bone Hurting Juice Bone Hurting Juice - Nils Olsen

Vinn Vinn Vio Vio
 
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ERode

Shadow and Truth
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Aggressive. Sooooo aggressive. If I'm GMing, prepare for instructions. Might be aggressive to the extent of douchebaggery.
Favorite Genres
Anything that actually has, you know, a good plot. I prefer RPs with fantastical elements, however, so generally, a bit of fantasy goes a long way.
Genre You DON'T Like
Nothing grimdark. Horror RPs are hard for me to take seriously as well. Kidnapping plots are also really annoying.


Huo Ying-Yue

  • Standing at a dainty, unassuming 5’3, Huo Ying-Yue’s pale skin and child-like features masks her internal maturity well. Her hair, naturally a vibrant red, has been dyed black and cut to a frizzy bobcut, while her eyes are of a dark brown that nears black, filled with mysterious allure. With longer, straight hair and a white dress, she could pass off as a ghost pretty easily, but the reality of her allure is just that Ying-Yue’s sleep-deprived most of the time, masking her bagged eyes with the same make-up that hides the growing collection of scars upon her body. Built slender, lithe, and distressingly flat, she stands with a calm confidence, always an individual that’s completely sure of her place in the scene, but also totally comfortable with not proclaiming her sense of belonging.

    Though the rest of her attire changes depending on what type of person she wants to appear as, a constant in Ying-Yue’s varied outfits is the dark red gloves she wears over her hands, custom-made with quality leather.

  • Disguise
    Despite being a 26 year old woman, Ying-Yue is capable, through a combination of makeup skills and acting skills, of passing herself as anything from a 15 year old teenager to a 40 year old professional. A bit of a social chameleon, it doesn’t take much for her to melt into the background and move unnoticed.

    Legerdemain
    From card tricks to pickpocketing, a life lead by dubious morals had taught Ying-Yue how to take things off someone’s person without their notice. A wallet might disappear out from someone’s pockets. A watch could be slipped off their wrist if they weren’t careful. For fun, she had taken the very scarf off someone’s neck before, worn it as her own, and then greeted the person seconds after.

    Retention
    Though by no means a master of memorization, Ying-Yue's better at retaining information than the average individual, and has gotten rather good at completely memorizing phone numbers and license plates given only a second or two to see them. For anything more complicated than that, technology makes up for it. For the life of her, she can’t remember names though.

    Close Quarters Combat
    An obsession brought forth by her demise and revival. Ying-Yue doesn’t ascribe to any particular style, instead choosing to learn mixed martial arts with a focus on strikes. Though her skill has not yet reached the level she’d like it to be, it’s another card in her deck, and that alone makes it valuable. No one expects a woman who could pass off as an adolescent to have a killer instinct and a mean left straight, after all.

    Guitar
    A hobby that she indulges in. With a pair of headphones and a comfortable seat, Ying-Yue could pass the day rather easily, just strumming away to whatever she fancies. Over the years she’s gotten quite good, enough that she could scrape by a living if she went into busking…but on the other hand, she doesn’t enjoy making music THAT much.

  • Touch Off
    Ying-Yue’s power manifests in her left hand as the ability to assimilate objects and then replicate the functions of these objects by pantomiming their usage. If she assimilated a gun, she could form a gun with her hand and shoot bullets out of her index finger. If she assimilated a smartphone, she could pantomime having such a phone in her hand and do everything from making calls to taking video footage to browsing the web. However, she cannot use her left hand to directly connect to any other object, such as a USB port or an electric outlet, and the objects she assimilates must be hand-held and cannot be unassimilated afterwards. Furthermore, objects assimilated that requires energy or ammunition to operate, such as a battery charge or ammunition, must constantly have such things assimilated into them.

    Despite these small disadvantages though, having an entire toolbox inside her left hand provides ridiculous utility. It may still all be within the realm of reality and modern technology, but, as Batman proves, a utility belt can make even an ordinary human into something that the supernatural fear.

  • How fragile was a relationship, for it to be sundered because the daughter was born with hair that did not match either husband or wife? The husband accused. The wife deflected. Neither looked her way, even as she found herself unable to look away from their own war. The divorce wasn’t the end of the world. Life passed on. She was content.

    The child grew up free and unloved, avoiding guilt and shame by staying on the streets. She made friends with the unsavory. She learned to steal, lie, cheat, run, hide, and laugh it all off at the end of the day, kicking empty cans with her fellowship of wannabe gangsters. When she was caught by a busker, she tensed up, expecting a beating, and received music lessons instead. Having a child perform with him attracted more charity from onlookers, while the child could find her own method of escape as well, melting away in the ambience of strummed strings. The busker’s arrest wasn’t the end of the world. Life passed on. She was happy.

    It took dropping out of high school for her mother to drop her out of her life. That was fine for the youth with burning red hair. She had other things she could do instead. Worked part-time at a fast food joint while taking advantage of the youth shelter. Kept her ears and eyes out all the while. Made her connections, remained friendly with her contacts. Created a reputation for being surreptitious and informed. And after she helped out the first couple of people for free, the flame-haired youth began her business as a private investigator. Sometimes, the police came to her, interested in the word on the street. Most of the time, spurned lovers paid her to find evidence of disloyalty and prayed that she wouldn’t find any of that sort. Lean months weren’t the end of the world. Life passed on. She was blessed.



    A flame-haired woman was striding through the alleyways, her hands pocketed, her eyes squinting in the dim lighting. The hard drive was much too heavy in her jacket, and her heart responded to every stray sound, every distant cry. A bad job. Baited by the pay. But it was a big secret. Could sink them all, if she got it out. And the pay. The recognition. The good she’d do for the city.

    All bait.

    Before her, smouldering red floated against the shadows, the click of hammer telling her all she needed to know. She had expected this. But she had not prepared for it. And that stung more than the five 9mm hollowpoints that so thoroughly scrambled her organs.

    Death wasn’t the end of the world. Life passed on. She was reborn, her eyes snapping open in the warm, suffocating darkness of a rolled up carpet, surrounded by the stench of rotting garbage. If it was the afterlife, this sucked. If it was hell, this wasn't nearly all that bad. But, left alone, her limbs bound by the weight of the carpet, Ying-Yue couldn't do anything but call out with a parched throat, waiting for help, hoping for salvation.

    It came easily enough. Police officers, investigating reports of noise within a dumpster, came across a bloodied, rolled up carpet that, upon unrolling it, revealed a starved Asian girl in bloody clothing. She was mute and didn't seem interested in cooperating with the officers, but her silent nature was still enough for the media to theorize about it...theories that only grew into further frenzy when she disappeared from the hospital she was being treated in.

    Being stuck in one place was dangerous after all, and the scrutiny was worse.

    Her hair was cut and dyed. She didn't bother heading back to her studio. She abandoned all her ID. Scuttled the entirety of her past life and stayed under the radar as much as she could, while gathering and sharpening a new set of skills.

    The specifics behind her revival could not be determined, but Ying-Yue was glad for a second chance regardless.

    Before, it was for the money, but now? Now it was personal.
 
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Huntress

Feeding the wolves, don't you know better?
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays
Posting Speed
Speed of Light, Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
Writing Levels
Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Depends on the plot. I'm comfortable playing both ways.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Supernatural, Sci-Fi, Modern, Horror, Mystery and Romance
Genre You DON'T Like
Futanari. Furry. Slice-Of-Life


CASSANDRA "CASSIE / CASS" BRIGHTON

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES:

AGE: 27
HEIGHT: 5' 11"
WEIGHT: 175lbs
BODY TYPE: Athletic / Muscular
EYE COLOUR: Royal Azure with Glacial Blue streaks
HAIR COLOUR: Raven Black with Silver streaks
SCARS:
• Scar on her right wrist / forearm from an error made while working on a car.

• Scar on her left eyebrow from where a second eyebrow piercing was ripped out in a fight.

• Deep gash / puncture scar on her left shoulder, just below the clavicle, from a stunt gone wrong while shooting an independent film.​


SKILLS & TALENTS:

Mixed Martial Artist:
► Specializing in kick-boxing.
► Intermediate level Systema.
► Basic level muay-thai.​

• Apprentice Mechanic

• Trained Stunt Performer

• Certified Firearms Instructor


SUPERNATURAL POWERS:

SUPERHUMAN STRENGTH:
▲ Type I: Being able to lift up from cars to trucks, buses, and other vehicles of great size.

▲/▼ Capable of pushing to greater feats of strength at the cost of supernatural muscle and bone damage that requires a longer amount of time to repair even with enhanced regenerative capabilities.​

SUPERHUMAN DURABILITY:
▲ Durability is superhuman, being able to withstand extreme temperatures and pressures, punctures, and concussions without sustaining much injury.

▼ Strong corrosives can cause damage externally and internally.

▼ Organs and nerves are not as durable as skin, muscle and bone.​

ENHANCED STAMINA:
▲ Can endure physical stresses beyond the capabilities of the greatest humans enabling her to do things such as, operate efficiently for extended amounts of time, holding her breath for large periods of time, remaining calm through stressful or painful situations, tolerating extreme hunger, unbearable thirst, and strong urges to sleep.

▼ Begins to grow fatigued and weak after three days of no sleep.

▼ If pushed to her limits without proper sleep a full twenty-four hour cycle of sleep is required before being capable of functioning at full power again.​

ENHANCED REFLEXES:
▲ Drastically enhanced reaction speed, allowing the capability to dodge bullets, catch flies in mid-air, dodge and maneuver around complex attacks, catch falling objects, block detriments and react instantaneously to what others take more time to react to.​

ENHANCED REGENERATION:
▲ Can close minor to moderate wounds near-instantaneously, appearing as though they never happened. Internal organs can be completely regenerated, critically and fatally damaged cells can regenerate, preventing scars.

▲ Cellular senescence is drastically reduced, granting her decelerated aging.

▲/▼Can regenerate as long as the head / brain is damaged to no more than a certain level, leaving destruction of the head as one of the few sure methods to ensure their death.

▼Cannot regrow severed limbs

▼ Drugs and toxins within the bloodstream can still affect her.​

ENHANCED SENSES:
► Enhanced Hearing:​
▲ Ears pick up every single sound, and can decipher layer upon layer of noise.

▲ Has the ability to pick up a conversation from a mile away in a busy city.

▼ Can easily be overloaded if not focused on dampening the sense.

▼ Extreme high frequencies can be painful.

▼ Extreme low frequencies can be nauseating.​

► Enhanced Smell:​
▲ Can detect specific smells, and locate their origin.

▲ Can tell if someone is lying or afraid based on which hormones they excrete.

▼ Potent and pungent smells can cause nausea.​

► Enhanced Vision:​
▲ Can see with amazing clarity, detail, distance and color.

▲ Can see in almost complete darkness without the assistance of night-vision equipment.

▼ Sudden changes in brightness can momentarily blind her.

▼ Entering from light to dark requires time for her eyes to adjust.​

(All ability information collected and modified based on superpower wiki)​

BIOGRAPHY:

Cassie was born and raised as an only child in a middle class family within rural Washington state. Her mother was a waitress and her father a mechanic. Her childhood held nothing grand, she was mediocre in school but excelled at sports. The realization of her anger issues became prevalent in high-school. It was an issue that caused several problems for her overall but particularly when she played sports. The routine was simple, after several warnings she would be kicked from a team and move on to the next. Every time she was given a second chance she somehow managed to mess it all up, any opportunity that came her way. Sports had felt like the only thing that seemed to keep her sane. Had it not been for her kick-boxing classes between school and work, Cassie was sure that arguing with other girls on sports teams would be the least of her worries.

In her final year of school she enlisted herself to the military reserves and, to everyone's surprise, succeeded in graduating from high-school.

Carrying on with her kick-boxing in her adult life Cassandra even ventured into a couple other self-defense arts. It was in one of those classes that she met a stunt coordinator by the name of Colton Reeves, a man who managed to pull her into a very exciting and interesting, new world. Cassandra trained under Colton and learned everything he had to offer. Seeing her potential Colton began to bring her along to shoots and even helped her in acquiring whatever licenses and paperwork she needed to succeed in the industry. Working for and with Colton while also still helping her father in his garage, Cassie quickly felt like she was finally excelling at something and for once, not letting anyone down. When she started getting offers for jobs as a stunt coordinator and not some secondary position she grew even more eager and pushed herself even harder to become better.

It was in one of these positions that she had her first real accident. A stunt gone wrong on an independent film led to injuries that bound her to a bed and her home for months. Feeling useless was something she despised and had it not been for the painkillers that blurred her thoughts, she would've come out from her recovery as nothing more than a depressed heap of flesh. Cassie attempted to rebound back into the life she had barely started, but it became extremely difficult with an accident under her belt. The young woman was quick to learn that reality was dull, pathetic, sad and full of negatives. This revelation had Cassie trying to figure out ways to make life more vibrant again.

It started rather innocently, a drink here or there, a hook-up every now and then, a puff in an alley, a line at the bar; but the occasional indulgence was slowly becoming more regular and these choices had started affecting her life. She would argue and fight with her parents, she would slack when she worked with her father and eventually she stumbled into the wrong crowds.

An addict doesn't realize their addicted because their addiction is their life. Cassandra was starting to grow desperate. Her father refused to let her work for her next kick and eventually she stopped returning home. Going to a place where she was judged every time she took a breath wasn't something she want to deal with.

It was the first time she ever woke up in an alley against a dumpster, that Cassandra realized she had to get her shit on track. It was in the same sullied clothes that she made her way to the nearest recruitment office. Perhaps a hard slap of authority would put her back in place, or so she had hoped. For a moment Cassandra saw a flash of light in her darkening life, as she was put through the process of all the questions and paperwork. Reality was quick to slam down hard on her when she was asked about drug and alcohol abuse. She lied, unconvincingly. Forced to take a series of tests, she failed and left. Once again Cassie had fucked up.

The night of her rejection is nothing but a blur of memories tucked away in the depths of her mind. A single name, Mischa Antonov, is the only thing that stands out of the imagery she refuses to bring back. A top member of an organized crime syndicate that, like Colton Reeves, pulled Cassie into a new, much darker and much more dangerous world that could give her what she wanted and needed.

Mischa and his cohorts had their bloodstained tendrils in various areas of the underground crime world, from human trafficking and prostitution to black market weapon deals and drug trades. Any unlawful activity one could imagine, Mischa was most likely, if not directly involved, at least associated with it. Cassie had been pulled into illegal fights and she did very well in it. The money eventually becoming more than enough for her to live comfortably and support her habits.

Most people assume that purposely losing fights comes with the territory, but Mischa's high-stakes rings weren't run that way. Cass had been personally offered a very generous lump sum to throw a fight for a corrupt CEO by the name of Matthias Stemms. She knew that Mischa wouldn't accept that, so she chose to make one of those damned horrible Cass choices, she took the CEO's money and agreed to his terms with intent to double cross him and tell Mischa that one of his top bidders was trying to cheat.
———————————————

Cassandra didn't throw the fight that night and as she was making her way to her employer for her payment, she was halted by Matthias. Words weren't exchanged between the two, it was a cold stare down, an arrogant, egotistical man and a viciously dangerous woman. When he moved closer, Cassandra felt the cold metal through thin fabric against her stomach. Matthias had a disturbingly cocky grin on his face as their eyes locked. Within the confines of the club that trembled with explosive bass driven music, the gunshot wasn't even heard; the flash concealed by strobing lights. Her grip on Matthias' shirt was tight as she fell into him with a grunt, her free hand clenched around the gaping wound. His words a dizzying echo that thrummed in her ears before he shoved her back. She stumbled into a dancing couple, to which the male reacted by pushing her away with a mutter of a curse. As she scrambled to stand as straight as she could, Cassie shoved through patrons and shuffled along to the back and up the stairs to Mischa. Her world was spinning, vision fading in and out. She was barely through the door when she fell towards the dark tiled floor, no energy to stop her from smacking her face against the cold, hard ground. Her eyes fluttered as she caught a glimpse of expensive leather shoes before her.

Time was non-existent. Darkness consumed Cassandra for an eternity, or so it seemed. The sounds of life and nature slowly swelled in her ears. Twigs snapped with long echoes, underbrush and leaves rustling. The first thump of her dormant heart caused her chest to convulse. The searing sharp pain on her forearm making her face to twist in pain. it was the sudden yank that caused her eyes to shoot open with a soft exhale. Her head turned to the right against the grass, jagged ivory daggers wrapped around her severely dry, leathery, discoloured flesh. As the fangs dug deeper, thick, dark, almost black blood began to pool. The subtle beat of her heart quickened and it didn't take long to grow rapid as her back was dragged across the ground. Digging the fingers of her free left hand into the ground Cassie fought against the mangy canine's force. It pulled again, harder, a sickly snap exploding from her shoulder as she screamed against the tearing of ligaments and sinew. Grunting in a frantic state she forced her body to turn before pulling her leg back and kicking the coyote in the throat. It's locked jaw tore across her flesh until it let go. Dragging herself away from the animal she stared it down as she cradled her limp arm. It's snarl was vicious, haunches raised as it lunged at her. She was quick to react with another kick that was hard enough to send the animal running off in a whimper.

Bringing her legs in closer to herself she took in her surroundings before feeling a pulling sensation in her shoulder. Looking down at the wrinkly grey skin Cassie watched as the concave section of flesh popped back up with a grotesque, wet sounding snap. Gritting her teeth with a bit back groan she looked away and shook her head. Swallowing back against the coarse desert of an esophagus she finally opened her eyes with a frown before looking down at her right arm. There was a numbness that quickly faded. Her eyes opened wide as she brought her arm closer. Her skin was grey, as it barely hung onto her bones. She could move it, she could feel it but a part of her said that she shouldn't have been able to. The rest of her body seemed to be in a similar state. Remnants of fabrics hung on her frail form. She wasn't sure how or why she could move if she was just dry skin and bones. As Cassie looked across the horrific visual she began to feel an odd throbbing sensation across various areas of her body. Catching the movement on one of her legs she looked down in awe. Mouth agape eyes wide. Her thigh's began to swell, filling in the remnants of her pants that seemed extremely large just moments ago. Reaching towards her leg to feel it she noticed that her arm was also no longer wrinkly, her attention shifted as she watched the discoloration fade as darkened veins spread across her skin. Looking down at herself she felt along her stomach, the feeling of muscle regrowing pushing against her hands.

There was a sudden explosive bang that startled her as she almost jumped up from her seated position with a flinch. Covering herself she opened her eyes and looked around to see nothing. Slowly standing up she spun around in place trying to orientate herself before she felt an irritating sting in her stomach. Reaching for that area she looked down and spotted the faded crimson stain. There was a flash of a memory behind her eyes, that disturbingly cocky grin. Bearing her teeth with a growl she raised her shirt slightly and watched as darkened veins pulsated towards wound that was caked in dried blood. There was more pain that caused her to grunt and clench her stomach. It felt as if something inside her was moving. Gritting her teeth Cassandra hissed with another deep grunt before she could see the movement beneath her flesh. Whatever it was pressed closer and closer to the surface before finally coming through her skin, a pool of fresh blood seeping from it as well. The object clinked against a small rock on the ground before Cassie wiped away the blood to reveal nothing but receding black veins.

Swallowing back she stared for a moment in utter confusion. Clenching her jaw she dropped the shirt and reached for the impacted bullet. Looking at it for a moment as more memories came back to her in quick flashes she pocketed the piece of metal before trudging on straight in the direction she had been facing.

Where was she? Who had brought her here? Why had they brought her here? What had just happened to her? The questions droned on as she walked with an irritated look on her face. She would figure it out and she would find Matthias. She would give him what he deserved and she was sure Mischa would be happy to help.



OTHER:

• Cassie is an addict and alcoholic.

• When Cassie died she was in major debt with a serious crime syndicate.

• Cass had enlisted in the reserves but due to her drug habits she wasn't accepted when she was called.

• From a young age Cass has dealt with severe anger issues.


 
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FrozenTear

The Sorcerer of Delusions
Original poster
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
(+8) 7:00pm
Writing Levels
Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Adaptable
Favorite Genres
High Fantasy, Fantasy, Modern-Fantasy, Anime; Divine Politics
Genre You DON'T Like
Anything that has to do with Romance and Furs.
ERode ERode

Well done! Just two things, how did she come back? How had this affected her life/perspective post rebirth? Add these two the biography and it will be all good. :)
 

ERode

Shadow and Truth
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Aggressive. Sooooo aggressive. If I'm GMing, prepare for instructions. Might be aggressive to the extent of douchebaggery.
Favorite Genres
Anything that actually has, you know, a good plot. I prefer RPs with fantastical elements, however, so generally, a bit of fantasy goes a long way.
Genre You DON'T Like
Nothing grimdark. Horror RPs are hard for me to take seriously as well. Kidnapping plots are also really annoying.
Huh, could you actually tell me a bit about how they are revived to begin with? The OOC sorta left out the specifics of their revival. Or do you mean something else in regards to 'how did she come back'?
 

Huntress

Feeding the wolves, don't you know better?
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays
Posting Speed
Speed of Light, Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
Writing Levels
Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Depends on the plot. I'm comfortable playing both ways.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Supernatural, Sci-Fi, Modern, Horror, Mystery and Romance
Genre You DON'T Like
Futanari. Furry. Slice-Of-Life
I too have the same question as ERode ERode .

How exactly would you like us to describe their return FrozenTear FrozenTear ?

Were the characters actually revived by EMS or doctors or do they just come to wherever they end up after their death?

Has it been some time since their deaths (seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years)?
 

FrozenTear

The Sorcerer of Delusions
Original poster
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
(+8) 7:00pm
Writing Levels
Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Adaptable
Favorite Genres
High Fantasy, Fantasy, Modern-Fantasy, Anime; Divine Politics
Genre You DON'T Like
Anything that has to do with Romance and Furs.
I left out the specifics intentionally so you can work with them freely. HOW and WHEN they came back isn't important - only that they DID. They could come back the instant that they were supposedly killed, or weeks/months/years after their death. This can have unfortunate implications down the road (like being reborn in your own nailed coffin 7ft underground) - but plot hooks & dramas are always good.

I'll take four characters from before as examples:

The young man jumped into the raging river and died from drowning. His body ended up on the shores not far from the city weeks after his jump. His bloated body roared back to life minutes after he was out of the water, slowly mending itself to his condition in life. When he came to, he had no recollection on how he came back from death - just that he did. Little did he realize that the plant life around him slowly wilted away.

The doctor and nurses tried their best to save the sickly woman. They continued to try their best as her heart stopped - they still had a chance. "Clear!" The doctor screamed as he delivered an electric shock to her heart, desperately trying to get her back. Finally, her pulse returned on screen. They have won another life from Death's grasp that day. Little did they know that she did die, whether their efforts played a role in her return remained a mystery.

The soldier's body was dumped in a hole not far where he was killed, together with the youth he so desperately tried to save. As the men left, they didn't realise that the soldier's wounds began to mend itself, and life returned to his eyes moments afterwards. He took his comrade's dogtag and swore bloody vengeance against those that abandoned them as worthless pieces on a chessboard.

The little girl's bony figure started to move. It had been so long... She didn't remember how long she had sat there alone. Dusts have covered all the furniture and the floors. She felt so hungry... so powerless... She looked up, and a ghostly figure appeared before her. It looked so much like her father... but she remembered that he died... But when he offered her a glass of water, she couldn't resist. She was so thirsty... and so hungry...
 
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Huntress

Feeding the wolves, don't you know better?
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays
Posting Speed
Speed of Light, Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
Writing Levels
Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Depends on the plot. I'm comfortable playing both ways.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Supernatural, Sci-Fi, Modern, Horror, Mystery and Romance
Genre You DON'T Like
Futanari. Furry. Slice-Of-Life
FrozenTear FrozenTear , I've updated my CS. I hope it's okay now.
 

ERode

Shadow and Truth
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Aggressive. Sooooo aggressive. If I'm GMing, prepare for instructions. Might be aggressive to the extent of douchebaggery.
Favorite Genres
Anything that actually has, you know, a good plot. I prefer RPs with fantastical elements, however, so generally, a bit of fantasy goes a long way.
Genre You DON'T Like
Nothing grimdark. Horror RPs are hard for me to take seriously as well. Kidnapping plots are also really annoying.
FrozenTear FrozenTear Added to my biography. Should cover all the bases now.
 

Bone Hurting Juice

dazed and confused
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
whatever
Favorite Genres
anything not smutty
Genre You DON'T Like
smut

Nils Olsen
  • Standing at a lanky 5'9", Nils isn't the most intimidating man. Besides his cold, never-changing expressions, he's rather uninteresting. His barely combed dull brown hair is of a medium length for men, but not out of choice. Rather, he's simply isn't brave enough to try something unique or attention grabbing. His eyes are uninteresting, being a simple brown that is standard. In fact, the only thing unique about them is that they can be compared to the eyes of a dead fish. Nils carries himself in a pretty standard way. He doesn't walk with his chest puffed out, nor does he roam the streets staring at the ground. The only unique way he seems is his conviction. No matter what he does, he does it with absolute confidence in his abilities.

    His attire consists of hoodies, dark jeans, but most importantly, reflective jackets. After all, being hit by a car at night does that to people.​
  • Freeter
    Nils has a wide range of knowledge from the time he spent in various odd jobs. While he isn't an expert, he can fix simple appliances, clean gutters, paint walls, repair furniture, clean carpets, run the cash register, help you move out, and apply his skills better than the average person.
    How I am
    Nils' mental defense is pretty high. Stress, emotions, imaginary psionic attacks, and annoyances barely affect him.
    I know a guy
    Because of how much Nils got around when working so many different jobs, he knows a lot of people. Most of them have positive opinions on him. Less so on his dead-fish face.
    Actually okay at singing
    He's not a songwriter, but he's decent at singing. While he doesn't have any singing technique, his voice is unique enough to be enjoyable.​
  • Desires Held
    Appearing as surreal imaginings of one's desires, the desires of others become corporeal to Nils. He sees a "clay-like" entity that either floats near them or replaces their body. The closer one is to sating their desire, the less clay-like and more realistic the entity becomes. For example, someone who wishes to be big and strong would have heaps clay on his arms, giving the appearance of muscles. Someone who wants to sate their carnal desires would appear with nude clay people prostrating themselves to them. Someone who is about to achieve their goal of CEO would appear with hundreds of tiny, almost realistic peons below their every step.

    Desires Left
    The people who die still have their desires remain in the world. More ethereal than the desires of the living, the clay entities appear similar to VHS. Their colours abberate, their flicker with noise, and they shake around. After a while, these desires simply fade from existence.​
  • He never really got it. The entire emotions thing. Ever since Nils was young, he never really felt anything. Happiness, sadness, hatred, love, each one of those things. They were alien to him. But Nils wasn't a bad person. Though, that was because of his upbringing. When he would wet the bed, his parents simply washed the sheets and talked about it when Nils was ready to. When he accidentally set the brush on fire, his father stomped it out and asked if Nils was okay, uncaring that his favourite boots were now destroyed. When he prodded a dead stray dog, his mother simply hurried him away and talked about why it was wrong. Every time Nils' improper behaviour had a chance of escalating into something horrible, his parents were there to show him down the right path. They taught him how to take that right path and Nils went down it. Though, something was always empty. Nils could just never understand people.

    As a consequence of his emotions, Nils never really had any aspirations. He was a fairly ascetic man. Hedonism never really was for him. He simply worked in whatever job he could find so that he could survive in society. He was a roofer, he was a clerk, he taught computers to the elderly, he fixed stoves, and more. He's been around the block so many times you could call him a dog-walker. Incidentally, that was his third ever job. He lived like this since he was 15. Unfortunately, one job kept him until late at night. He helped a restaurant owner clean up at night and, on his way out, noticed a lady had left a pendant. He overheard that she was leaving town only hours after the restaurant closed. Well, Nils just had to help, didn't he? He dashed out in the middle of night to return the pendant.

    Turns out, running across roads in the middle of a stormy night isn't the best plan. By act of god, he was brutally struck by a truck. He was internally decapitated and died instantly.

    But he came back. Quite literally, he hit the ground running. He awoke from whatever death-invoked stupor ailed him moments away from a bus station across town, a crying lady seeking safety under the shelter. Around her, hundreds of clay pendants similar to the one he was carrying. He gave the pendant back and, one by one, the pendants around her vanished. She could have thanked Nils hundreds of times, but Nils took one 'thank you' and quickly left.

    For the first time in his life, Nils felt like he understood someone.​
 
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FrozenTear

The Sorcerer of Delusions
Original poster
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
(+8) 7:00pm
Writing Levels
Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Adaptable
Favorite Genres
High Fantasy, Fantasy, Modern-Fantasy, Anime; Divine Politics
Genre You DON'T Like
Anything that has to do with Romance and Furs.
Ying Yue is accepted!

Cass is accepted!

Nils is accepted!
 
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ERode

Shadow and Truth
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Aggressive. Sooooo aggressive. If I'm GMing, prepare for instructions. Might be aggressive to the extent of douchebaggery.
Favorite Genres
Anything that actually has, you know, a good plot. I prefer RPs with fantastical elements, however, so generally, a bit of fantasy goes a long way.
Genre You DON'T Like
Nothing grimdark. Horror RPs are hard for me to take seriously as well. Kidnapping plots are also really annoying.
Cool. Do you have a date for when the IC will be made?
 

FrozenTear

The Sorcerer of Delusions
Original poster
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
(+8) 7:00pm
Writing Levels
Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Adaptable
Favorite Genres
High Fantasy, Fantasy, Modern-Fantasy, Anime; Divine Politics
Genre You DON'T Like
Anything that has to do with Romance and Furs.
ERode ERode Within one day after Vinn & Vio posted their characters.
 

FrozenTear

The Sorcerer of Delusions
Original poster
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
(+8) 7:00pm
Writing Levels
Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Adaptable
Favorite Genres
High Fantasy, Fantasy, Modern-Fantasy, Anime; Divine Politics
Genre You DON'T Like
Anything that has to do with Romance and Furs.
Calling Vinn Vinn & Vio Vio . How are your characters going?
 

Vio

Lavender Love
Roleplay Invitations
One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays, Not Taking RP Invites at this Time, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
My Usual Online Time
I’m always online, more active around the evenings. My time zone is Mountain Standard Time.
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I can switch back and forth between passive and aggressive play style. I used to be really aggressive, but these days I'm really tired most the time or busy. I just don't have the energy to be as aggressive these days, so I like finding partners who I can lean on for creative input when I can't provide.
Favorite Genres
I don't have a favorite genre. I can role-play under any genre and I enjoy doing so. Though, I tend to stray more towards Fantasy, Modern, Scifi, Drama, Magical, Supernatural, and Romance (Yaoi/Hetero/Yuri).
Genre You DON'T Like
My least favorites are horror, historical, and western.
Calling Vinn Vinn & Vio Vio . How are your characters going?
I’m currently away on a hiatus. If I am holding things up for you guys I can definitely withdraw from the rp. I dont want to get in the way.

Vinn is currently in her last month of uni so she’s really really busy. Other than that I don’t know much else.
 

MrCalcium

Edgebabby
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day
Writing Levels
Adept
Genders You Prefer Playing
Female
Any chance there's a spot left open for this? C:
 

Rosé Moon

Blissfully Nihilistic
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays
Posting Speed
Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Passive aggressive? I can lead but I like it to be in turn.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, high-fantasy, sci-fi, post-apocalyptic.




  • Name: Samantha Reverie

    Appearance: There is nothing super natural about the looks of Samantha Reverie. She is not unrealistically beautiful, and she surely isn't the most unsightly person in your average room. With a head of shoulder length, chest nut hair and a face painted with light freckles she remarkably plain. Though, it would seem that her neutral expression was a grumpy scowl.

    She stands at about five feet and six inches, and sporting a slightly athletic build. No surprise for a member of a softball team, right?

    Skills & Talents: Sam tries to find balance in what she knows, and what she doesn't. She knows her body moves how she wants it to, and that when she reads, her mind becomes a theater (albeit only playing movies with 70's special effects), so she does her best to train her physical capabilities and how well she can read campy high fantasy. She can throw a punch, as well as she can take one, and of she ever needed to run for some reason, she'd be able to sprint a good five minutes before slogging into a jog for another twenty.


  • Supernatural Powers: Doloramancy || Pain Containment.

    Since awakening, Samantha has discovered that upon touching an injury, she heal, and hold the injury in the form of a white, ivory marble; a small white orb that she keep within her own posession for twenty-four hours.

    The twenty-four hour part is important. These marbles are not permanent. After taking away an injury, she must give it to another by touching the marble to skin. If it is not done within twenty-four hours, the marble will inflict the injury on Samantha, herself.

    Have multiple wounds that need taken away? Well, Sam can steal multiple wounds! She can take as much pain as she wants, and no matter how large the wound, it will make one marble, but, for each marble made the time limit for her to give the pain away is halved.

    One wound, twenty-four hours.
    Two wounds, twelve hours.
    Three, six.
    Four, three.
    Five, an hour and a half.
    Six and forty-five minutes.
    Seven, twenty-two minutes.
    And so on.

    These effects stack, if she absorbs seven injures, and hasn't expended the first marble, it will inflict itself on her in twenty-two minutes after absorption. Even if six injuries were absorbed twelve hours later; it will instantly attack her. So, care must be taken.

    Like most people, Samantha is the result of her upbringing, and like so many characters in the fantasy novels she was so fond of, she had an upbringing she would just as rather keep out of most's business.

    Unlike most, a part of her upbringing was a result of her. She grew up... well, happily. In a happy home, with a well-off, wealthy family thanks to the business practices of her father. This was never questioned. The man owned a business and seemed to spend whatever excess cash he had on his daughter. Samantha surely never questioned it, and she only thought of him in the highest regards when she'd be escorted to her private school and pass buildings with video-advertisements for "Reverie Electronics" plastered over it.

    In her senior year of high school, however, the veil of her perfect father began to be pulled back. Sharing a house with the man, who she only saw often enough to not call him negligent or be suspicious of him, she was also more privy to house guests. Most of the time, she had headphones thrown on, and jammed out whenever her dad had business meetings. If they ever had a party, Sam would be sent out with the usual escorts to enjoy a night out. She was quite matured, even at that age, and could be trusted to go out, buy her way into a club and party responsibly and have her father's men keep her and others around her in line. She never thought about why police never questioned her age and drinking when confronted.

    Of course, because of this early-onset lifestyle, alchohol was only the beginning of the rabbit hole. I won't go into details, but she eventually ended up 'sleeping in' one afternoon, hours after she was supposed to leave on a night her father was hosting a company party. She awoke to old school jazz, and cheering hurrah, which wasn't surprising. The gunshots that flowed inbetween the lines of Frank Sinatra's, "My Way" though... that was weird.

    A bit unnerved, and stupidly, Sam left her room and looked off the banister of the second floor, that let her peer into the lavish living room to see a sea of men who did not look like they belonged. Sagging Jean's, wife-beaters and buzz cuts abound. At first, she was stricken with panic! What was going on!? Had these men broken in? Where was her dad? Oh, there he was. Why was he walking towards the man kneeling in the lounge? He looked hurt... is that a gun!? The world exploded as she watches her father shoot a man point-blank in the face in the same room she used to watch the Lion King, before the rest of the men cheered. Her father than began speaking, in something she could only describe as a super villain monologue.

    Samantha wasn't stupid. From what she could understand, Reverie Electronics was a front for more... black market dealings involving stolen goods from competing companies? It wasn't completely clear, and Sam guessed some parts needed more context for specifics. She didn't need specifics though.

    Monthes later, and with a very closed mouth, Samantha Reverie had convinced her father to let her rent an apartment downtown, closer to her school. He saw no reason why not, while she would still be overseen by his men from a distance. She had proved capable of taking care of her self in most capacities, and he bought his eighteen year old daughter a, basicly, condo downtown. She had managed to separate herself from that man, and while she still took advantage of his money she rarely even spoke to him. She was out of his business, and she could act like they weren't related when he wasn't giving her money.

    Who would think being the daughter of a wealthy crime lord could be a dangerous position? Explains why he wanted a man patrolling her block at least every five hours. Six years later, at the age of twenty-four, she learned being his daughter was very, very dangerous.

    Life had seemed quite usual. She had been escorted to university in the afternoon, when her classes took place, then she headed to her usual nightclubs, and drank the night away with friends and techno. Then the men who always watched her would escort her home. It was a routine, and one she honestly couldn't imagine not having. Plenty of people disliked her, but she just figured they were jealous. Most, but not all. Like her father's rivals, and victims.

    One night she, and her normal, burly escorts returned to her condo. She thanked them, and turned to shut them out, only to be met with a firm shove after the lights came on, and then the world around her became an orchestra of gunfire. There... had been men in her condo. Just waiting in the dark. One of her father's body guards pushed her to the side, but the resulting wave of gunfire would not be stopped.

    Samantha had thought herself disconnected from her father, despite taking use of his criminal benefits, and this proved her utterly wrong. Those were her lost thoughts as her bullet riddled body slid down the wall of her newly red, splatter painted condo, with the bodies of her two body guards.

    And just like that.. Samantha Reverie died, a solid black marble clutched in her dead hands.
 
Last edited:

FrozenTear

The Sorcerer of Delusions
Original poster
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
(+8) 7:00pm
Writing Levels
Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Adaptable
Favorite Genres
High Fantasy, Fantasy, Modern-Fantasy, Anime; Divine Politics
Genre You DON'T Like
Anything that has to do with Romance and Furs.
Vio Vio : Thanks for informing, we will continue on without you for now. Once you're back from hiatus and if you are still interested, I'll see what I can whip up.

Vinn Vinn : Let me know if you're still interested when you come back. Meanwhile, we will continue on without you.

MrCalcium MrCalcium : Yup, I can definitely take you in. Please make your character soon as we are starting. :)

Rosé Moon Rosé Moon : I'll come back to you by tomorrow once I have time to read it through, Ok?

Edit: the IC is now available. Link is on the first post, or if you're lazy... IC Thread
 
Last edited:
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FrozenTear

The Sorcerer of Delusions
Original poster
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
(+8) 7:00pm
Writing Levels
Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Adaptable
Favorite Genres
High Fantasy, Fantasy, Modern-Fantasy, Anime; Divine Politics
Genre You DON'T Like
Anything that has to do with Romance and Furs.
Rosé Moon Rosé Moon Hmm... For some reason this background story sounds so familiar. I'm undecided really. Regardless, please state how she came back & how had this affected her life/perspective post rebirth.
 

ERode

Shadow and Truth
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Aggressive. Sooooo aggressive. If I'm GMing, prepare for instructions. Might be aggressive to the extent of douchebaggery.
Favorite Genres
Anything that actually has, you know, a good plot. I prefer RPs with fantastical elements, however, so generally, a bit of fantasy goes a long way.
Genre You DON'T Like
Nothing grimdark. Horror RPs are hard for me to take seriously as well. Kidnapping plots are also really annoying.
Yo Frozen, am I free to make up the name for that smirk-y dude? Or do you have stuff planned for that?