Purpose (1x1: Hellion and Artesian)

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Artesian, Jun 18, 2013.

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  1. [​IMG]
    This is a 1x1 for Hellion and Arty.​
    Please do not post unless you are one of them.​
    Stalking welcomed.​
  2. [​IMG]
    Amy Navarro

      • name: Amelia “Amy” Navarro
        nickname: Sunny-bum, Amy, or the Jolly Rancher.
        age: 24 years old
        gender: Female
        character: happy-go-lucky-to-the-point-where-it's-please-shut-up-now
        purpose: Destroy Corvus.

      • general physical description: Amy is mostly Filipino on her father's side, and a blend of Chinese and misc. grab-bag of America on her mother's side, and this shows in her facial features. Her skin is natural smooth, tans easily, and she wears makeup when she feels like it (which is rarely). She wears contacts, but these don't affect the way her brown eyes sparkle.

        Her build is pretty average: she's reasonably well-endowed in the front, and less-so in the rear, but she doesn't have an hour-glass figure, exactly. She's just a slight bit plump all over, and not too stressed about it. A noticeable thing about her figure is her long legs and wide feet. When she wears yellow shoes and short shorts, she looks like some sort of featherless goose.

        Anyway. Her hair is black, straight, and somewhat coarse, with a slight twist to it. She keeps it in loose buns and precarious pony-tails most of the time, and matches that careless look with her clothes. If you see Amy in a suit or truly formal wear, put it down on the calender. Something has gone horribly wrong with the universe, and there's just a few months to the Apocalypse.

      • personality: Dearie me. What can one say about Amy? Sunny-bum is the kind of person you feel that you should like, but you just... can't. She's full of energy, enthusiasm, and positivity (is that a word? It is now). Her typical reaction to bad news is to drag the recipient of said bad news out dancing, with kilts, bagpipes, and possibly sheep. She can feel sad, but it is so fleeting and temporary now-a-days, that it's a blink-and-you-miss-it rationalization of the terrible. She's not the most brilliant bulb in the marquee, but she glows as brightly as she can. She started school as a Pre-Med student, then switched to Psychology, and then switched again to History, and finished with a degree in Business Administration.

        She's generally practical, but now and then patches of abstruse knowledge floats to the surface to surprise those who see her shallow exterior – and then it's gone, swirling back into the crockpot of yummy goodness that is her soul. Sunny-bum is works diligently, plays with great efficiency, and is up for practically anything.

        The main disadvantage of Amy's personality (besides the overwhelming enthusiasm she puts into everything) is her lack of empathy. She cannot sympathize with people for more than a minute without trying to cheer them up. She is practically incapable of dwelling on the negative in a situation, a habit she built up over the last ten years. When she was a teenager, her best friend attempted to commit suicide. Ever since then, someone being sad is painful for her to watch. She would never allow herself to sink into a funk. Ever.

        The last thing you should know about her is that she needs only four hours of sleep a night to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and can go for several days without sleep with no ill side-effects except an increase in energy and a decrease in common sense. Do not agree to go on a long road trip with her. Do not.

        likes: Anything new, friends, family, dogs, squirrels, history, flowers, 3D puzzles, cooking (she's still terrible at it), going to see a movie in theatres, books on tape, cleaning (no joke), irritating people (just kidding), cute guys, comic-books, Jane Austen (and others) novels, running, tennis, swimming, lazing like a slug on the couch, medical dramas, adventure, excitement, and really wild things.

        dislikes: Candy and caffeine (she knows her limits, and stimulants of any sort are it), video games, horror movies, politics, maths (Oh god not maths), gardening, smoke, formal wear, sitting on a chair in a normal way, discussing negative feelings, obsessive geekery, cats (they just do not want to have fun), and carrots (foul orange spikes like the flames of h*ll given planty flesh).
    ((Original form copyright le Asian, pic copyrighted by the owner, and the text is alllll me.))
  3. (Gonna re-post what we have.)


    The night was cool, damp, causing a ripple of goose bumps on whatever open flesh was exposed to it. Of course it was not yet winter and this weather was not yet to be expected, so people were still foolishly going out in thin clothes, only to dash back into their warm houses in the end. The large city – known only as the Coterie was the centre of human civilization, located in the spot in which Canada and the USA would have once folded onto one another. Being the citadel of humanity meant that the numbers within the city were great, and altogether equaled a population of about 2.2 billion citizens. Though the city was large, it was still small enough to have to require outrageously sized structures to contain all the humans. It seemed as if, if you stood on the rooftops of some of the highest buildings you would be able to see heaven’s gates.

    In the heart of the Coterie there was a young man making his way through some of the (many) back-alleys that were spread over the city. His hands remained in his pockets as he knew that the wind would turn his pale flesh into blood-red. His breath was visible, and stormed out of his mouth with each lacking breath he took. The air was dense tonight, and oxygen was hard to come by, making the boy have to take deeper breaths to try and keep his body functioning properly. His shuffled his shoulders inside his fleece jacket trying to warm them up with friction, but the night air seemed to remove whatever chance he had of warming up at all, instead he’d be forced to brave the cold, like he had been for the last hour or so. Already his face was showing signs that he was not in the proper temperature, as his nose was turning a bright red, as well as his cheeks flushed. His green eyes scanned the trash covered alleyway as he made his ways into the depths of darkness that lusted for him to come into their arms.

    The man continued to make his way through the alley as he knew that he needed to meet up with a gang of sellers that he had been speaking with for the past while. He had done what they had asked, infiltrated the base of their enemy a gang known as “The Red Riders”. Though the con-man rarely got into gang issues they had offered him a great sum of money for whatever information that he could collect, and as such he was going to reveal the info that he had gathered. True, it was probably going to be less than they were expecting, though his cover had been blown and he had to leave the RR’s territory before they turned his bones into soup or something... The man wasn’t known for his cowardice, though he had rational sense to know when to not stick around somewhere. Especially not when it was just for a lousy job.

    When he got to the back-alley that he had been looking for he was surprised when he found no one. His eyes narrowed, what was going on. That was when he felt something hit his shoulder, something hot and wet. Touching his finger against it he could see that it was a darker colour, maybe red... It almost seemed like... like blood. Looking up he saw what abomination had been lying in wait for him, a canine looking thing with about twenty eyes on its head was floating in the air above him, supported by large leathery wings. In its talons was the body of Joey- the man that he was supposed to be selling the information to. Suddenly the man saw as the horror grew a gnarled smile, showing sharp bright white fangs oozing with blood; Joey’s blood no doubt. “... Micah...“ He heard his voice in a whisper come from the beast, as it suddenly launched down towards him, dropping the body of the gang member as he did so. Micah horrified began to ran, pushing his body as fast as he could, blood pumping all through him. He had never known such horror in his life, and everything within him seemed to be screaming at him, telling him to move faster, and faster, even though he was propelling himself as fast as his body would allow. He continued to run until he came to his first challenge, a large barbed fence which was cutting off this sector of the alleyway. Micah couldn’t stop running though, because if he did he would no doubt become that thing’s next victim... It was an easy choice of what needed to be done.

    Leaping up onto the fence he quickly began to make his way up, only tensing when he was forced to grab onto the barbed wiring, which sliced through his hands like butter. Howling in pain he jumped down onto the other side, the creature still close behind him, and gaining speed with every moment that he wasted. He started to run again, not taking his eyes off of the monster which easily flew over the fence which he had wasted so much time on. It had given the beast an easy advantage. His heart pounding he knew that this would no doubt be the end of him. Whatever this creature was it was going to end his life.

    He had no way of knowing that this was only the beginning.
  4. The beginning.

    Funny, that they called this station the beginning of the city. Really, there was just endless expanses of houses on one side, and more, guess what, houses on the other side. So why was this the beginning of the city? The rest was just the lowly suburbs, or something. Did this mean she'd finally arrived in this putative centre of humanity?

    Amy stretched out her sweat-pant clad long legs as far as she could, trying to ease the cramps in her legs with the meagre change in position. Sitting for how many hours now - she'd lost count - had flattened her butt like shoving a loaf of fluffy bread into a cardboard box. She giggled at the thought and stared out the window of the rumbly old train as it meandered its way through the cliffs the skyscrapers made of the formerly flat plains. The tall metal and glass structures were as much part of the landscape now as the huge red gorges and cliffs of her home in the south-west. She narrowed her brown eyes and squinted, trying to imagine the structures as natural gray rock and quartz, a modern wonder of the world. She began humming, imagining a little winged person, an angel, leaping from balcony to balcony alongside the lethargic train.

    And then she saw a real winged creatures, and pressed her nose against the glass of the train in curiosity. One of Corvus' creatures, out on a mission! Probably wasn't after her - really, what was the likelihood of that - so she felt no fear as it came closer, jumping from building to building, and gliding down into an alley-way. The train slowed for a stop, and she stared, her eyes wide as she saw the creature re-emerge, chasing a terrified man towards a barbed-wire fence, which he scampered up, unmindful of the barbs that caught on his clothes and in his skin. Her mouth rounded into an O, and she stared around at her fellow passengers, all of whom were averting their eyes and ignoring the horrific thing. She squeaked when she saw the reddish marks on the face of beastly thing. Blood. Oh my word.

    As the man ran towards the train, she signalled the doors to open, to let him in. Maybe he could get up enough speed, or confuse the creatures by melding into the crowded train station at the next stop. Or, or something.

    An old man seated besides her mumbled a warning. "Don't get in the way. Just... look away."

    She glared at him. "Have to."

    "You can't stop it," the man lectured her sternly, and stood to switch seats. She looked away and felt a flash of rage at Corvus' arbitrary rule and incomprehensible motives. Why kill someone like this, someone... her thoughts clicked off as the demon fixed ten of its eyes on her face, analysing and memorizing ever minute curve and texture of her face. She thought she could read its lips as it growled out Amy and swiped a paw at the running man while glaring at her.

    Most people said, when she told them about moving to the city, that she needed a thicker skin to live there. You don't stick your neck out for anyone, or you're likely to lose your head. She hadn't thought they'd meant it so literally
  5. Micah had only one thought in his head, and that was to get as far away from the monster. He kept on telling himself that he would make it, that when it came down to it he would be able to outsmart the creature and be able to make his escape; but how? Right now the creature held the upper hand by having a place to go (and that was him) but he had nowhere to which he’d be able to run to. That was not until he saw a train stop; his chance! Maybe, just maybe he would be able to get the creature lost and confused, and he could board onto the train, leaving the bizarre creature lost in the effort to catch him. Though even if he lost him now the little animal would be back later on to make sure that his mission was complete, and then he might even bring even more of his fellows! That seemed like a horror, but it was a chance that he could live, and that was worth it. But for now he’d have to get away safely, and the only way that he had a chance of doing that was if he caught up with that train. Even though it had slowed and finally stopped there was no saying when it would leave again, and if he missed it then he was finished.

    Looking to see the doors opening to let people on he hurried up, quickly making his way to the train and feeling one pair of eyes seemingly glued to him. He managed to glaze up for a second to see a girl watching from the train in... Well, he wasn’t sure what the look on her face was; shock maybe? He frowned at this, whatever it was that she was feeling his life hanging in the balance was causing it, and he didn’t like that one bit. Regardless, he slowed a bit when thinking this and felt the swish of claws from the little animal as it had caught up right behind he’s head. Eyes wide with fear he saw as the doors of the train were beginning to now close; pretty much everyone within the transportation. As the doors began to shut he wouldn’t allow himself to be this fiends next meal, and so dived towards the doors in anxious effort, and pulled them open, then slamming them shut at the monster, which before he shut them managed to swing out with his claws and scratch his hand. Pulling back in pain he watched as the creature hissed and pounded at the window of the door as the train started off. He had made it; he was still alive.

    He wasn’t surprised to see that everyone seemed unmoved by him almost being killed, things like this happened often when someone refused to do their purpose. But what was so important that they would chase after him in this matter? Did he miss his purpose; was something happening that he was not aware of? Regardless, he made his way through the company of people, most of which were staring idly out the windows that were now moving quickly once more. He stopped when he got to the row that the Asian girl who had been watching him from her seat. He narrowed his eyes at her, and took a seat across from her, his eyes sharp and like daggers. She could probably tell that he wasn’t content with her looking into his business, even if it was from the confinement of a train.

    “Did I amuse you?” He said, not looking at her and instead looking down at his bleeding hands. Not only were they now cut from the wire, but the beast had left a deep cut on the upper part of his right hand, four deep jagged lines. “I mean, watching me almost being cut down by one of those monsters; did you find it funny?” He growled, finally looking up at her, and making sure that his glaze wasn’t a friendly one. She should have been just looking upon her own way, though instead she seemed to be interested in whatever Micah had done before he had gotten onto the train. Finally gritting his teeth he looked back down at his fleshy hands; they were close to unbearably painful, and the look of intense pain was obvious in his face. Not only his hands had been wounded of course, his chest and stomach had received a nice cut as well, but not as bad as his hands.
  6. Amy let out an involuntary yelp as the monster slammed into the side of the train, rattling the windows and making the train-car shake. It failed to gain enough purchase on the door to rip the metal siding open like her mind's eye had half expected it to - like slicing open a tin can or ripping apart tin-foil, and with a screech of keratin on steel, the creature slipped off, snarling incoherently. A little boy, not yet inured against the terrors of the enforcers of Corvus' law, began to cry, curling up against his mother's side. As the man stumbled in, people unconsciously adjusted their body-language to loudly declare that These Seats Are Taken and suggest that he sit somewhere other than by him.

    She turned her to watch the monster as the train picked up speed again and it fell behind like a bad dream melting into imagination on awakening. The man who slipped into the seat across from her was no dream though, and the blood running down his hands wasn't an illusion. He glared at her, his eyes condemning her for... what? Being nosy? Caring? What was it with this whole city, that people just didn't seem to notice or care when others were hurt? Well, if she was the only person in this city with an ounce of empathy, then that made her special. She'd just have to keep up her spirits and be herself, never forgetting how to be human and empathetic, and maybe someone else out there would start to care and be kind, and maybe it would snowball, because one person can make a difference. She reached into her bag for a wad of kleenex, then reconsidered and pulled the thin dark blue woollen scarf off from around her neck and almost offered it to him (to bind up the bleeding that was clearly visible on his hand) but then he spoke. She pulled her hand back an inch, to rest on her lap again.

    She frowned. If that was a serious question... it was a serious question, wasn't it. Jesus, what an insane thing to say. "Hell no," the girl responded. She cocked her head to one side, her shoulder-length black hair falling into the slot left in her layers of sweaters and warm clothes by her now absent scarf. "I don't find murder, even if it's done by a demon, to be funny. Funny things are amusing, but that wasn't." She offered him the scarf. "Here. For your hand, to stop the bleeding. Looks like you might need stitches." Her memory of first-aid was a trifle rusty though, as pre-med had been five years ago and frankly, she'd mainly practised on stupid sheep that had gotten tangled up in barbed wire fences. Same principle, she supposed, and a tiny smile flicked onto her face.

    ((So, just wondering, but how often would you prefer I reply? Some of my rp partners get a bit overwhelmed if I post too often, or bored if I don't post enough. Also, sorry about the variation in lengths - I tend to post really hyper long posts once and a while, but in dialogue sections I start padding with random tangents and have to excise them for brevity's sake.))
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