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♫ Mr. sandman ♪
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, Chat Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Elementary, Intermediate, Adept
Genders You Prefer Playing
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Favorite Genres
fantasy, scifi, or apocalyptic-ish
Genre You DON'T Like
horror, non-fantasy
(this is a random dump of imagination, it is not meant for anything in a serious sense. I only wanted to write something for fun and not for criticism.)
(although if you did like it you can contact me and ask me to join your RP which is always nice)


From Dusk to Dawn...
Dusk wasn’t your average creature. He lived on the outskirts of Deadzone, where monsters beyond imagination lived and plants that engulfed houses dwelled. There wasn’t much that was human in the zone, not even dusk was human. He sat in his small tent made of an unknown creature’s pelt as he pondered this. The tent he was in gave a distinct smell of raspberries and pickles. Dusk stared at his makeshift tent and wondered why it was so instinctually natural for him to rip the skin off of a hostile creature and use it for a home. He shrugged it off, wishing to ignore the thought of the large dinosaur-like creature giving a screech of pain as it died. Every screech was like a microphone blaring at Dusk, asking for him to stop the ripping and leave it be. Dusk shuddered and stared at his spindly hands, hoping there were no stains of shame.
After many hours of meditating, Dusk felt better. He stared on from his tent at the decaying world. The lands comprised of ruins of an old world, possibly human, but Dusk wasn’t sure. Buildings were in ruins. Dusk scanned the remains and noticed how insanely massive the walls that surrounded the country were. He stood up and gazed at the walls, being familiar with their size for years. Vines grew nearly halfway up the 170 feet tall monument. It was almost beautiful to see the array of colored flowers that sprung from the wall.
Dusk made an inhuman sigh, a familiar sound to him. The noise that reverberated from him almost sounded like tires on a gravel road. He stared at his massive garden next to his tent. He loved nature and its mystical ways. All around him were flowers that he grew, each being a unique shade of blue and purple. Dusk grasped his watering bucket. The old bucket was originally meant to hold water, but after years of living in the destroyed lands it had holds dug into the sides of it. He watered the plants, they made a peaceful hum as he sprinkled over them. The tranquility of Dusk’s home was always present.
As Dusk watered, he heard something. The sound was almost like a roar from a large monster miles away. It reverberated his limbs, making them feel like a jelly. As Dusk turned to look at where the shockwave came from he felt a blast of cold air. This was a strange feeling to Dusk, having always been used to the spring climate of the area all year long. He stared into the sky to see a storm, a blue glow darting out from it every few seconds. Dusk had only seen these in the far south, a lighting storm.
He had to work quickly or his plants would die in the acid rain. Dusk clumsily fumbled with a home-made umbrella made from cardboard and water bottle plastic. His hasty actions lead to him dropping the umbrella on the ground. As he reached out to grab the gadget he felt a sizzling sensation on his right hand, it had arrived. Dusk hesitated, having never felt pain in years. The feeling felt almost wrong to him, like it wasn’t meant to happen. Dusk shook his head out of the daze and put the umbrella over his plants. For now it had to do for the flowers. Dusk stared at the rain falling on his tent, making a fizzing sound as it fell. The sun went down over the horizon after a long day