RPG
Introduction
[[This is very clearly not the average length of a post in this roleplay. Don't panic, everyone. It's just the introduction.
Also, this is a one-on-one advanced roleplay. I'd like it to be either an m/f or m/m but I'd like some development before we get into any romantic stuff.
The final thing I have to say is that I need, when you're making your character sheet, your character history to be your first post, just so I can see what I'm getting into. :D I look forward to writing with you guys!]]
"This is my ring, Taven. It's a very special ring."
It wasn't.
"Right."
"The others would do anything to get their hands on it, but it's mine."
"Understood."
"I've recruited you for one very simple task: you must protect this ring at all costs."
"Gotcha."
"Well, here you go," Gorry said, as the old man yanked the silver band from his finger. His bones were so brittle and dry that Taven was almost amazed his wrinkled hand hadn't broken in the process. Those shriveled sticks reached out to him now, curling around the ring to keep it safe on its short voyage, then slowly, painfully, uncurled to drop the damn thing into the younger man's palm. "Keep that safe. Keep an eye on it."
"I'll be sure to do that," Taven said, clutching it tightly. "Enjoy your vacation."
"Be warned, boy," Gorry told him, giving him a piercing look though his grey hedge-maze eyebrows. "This is not the first time you've underestimated a situation. You must defend yourself with every ounce of power in your body and still find need for more. Any less, and they will sense your weakness. They will come for you, for me, and more importantly, my ring."
The cheap hunk of tin. Sure.
"I won't wait to unleash a swarm of plague-breathing dragons should a caterpillar dare to sneeze."
"If that's the best you can think of, maybe I should I stay."
Good grief, old man. Go away.
"I can assure you," Taven replied, "your concern is as adorable as it is unnecessary. My power exceeds your own, as you've made note of several times before."
"But your mind's as flaccid as your dick," Gorry snapped. "Do us a favour - mind your surroundings, but try to get laid every now and then while I'm away, hmm? I'm sure you can summon something."
"It's at the top of my list." More or less. "Shouldn't you be going?"
"And keep that damn squirrel out of my pantry." Gorry's old teeth began to grind on each other. "If I catch even -"
"Pactar will be well-behaved and under control," Taven said, taking the matter into his own hands and hustling his mentor out of the room. "I give you my word."
"Then I return it," Gorry said. "You'll need that, too."
The old man made sure his robe was wrapped tightly around himself - it was - before finally picking up his gnarled cane and slapping a hat on his head. He gave Taven a fierce nod of encouragement, snapped his fingers and popped up a pair of sunglasses, then turned around and threw his dry hand towards the door. Immediately, they burst open, kicking up a flurry of wind that sent Gorry's purple rags billowing and up. Fortunately, they bunched together and caught themselves before they went any further up his spindly legs. Of all the things Taven could create, a drill that'd bore deep enough into his brain to get that image out wasn't one of them.
"Try not to get killed," Taven said. "I expect to hear from you again in a week."
"You'll hear from me," Gorry promised. "I'll send my parrot. Come, Feathers!"
That asshole bird. It screeched through the air at the exact second its name was called, whipping past Taven's ear and digging its talons into his shoulder as it passed. It ripped his suit. He scowled. He could've sworn the bastard mutant-rat smirked as it landed on its master's shoulder.
"You'll forgive me if you come home to roasted chicken," Taven said. "I won't entertain that thing for more than a minute."
"Feathers is better than that squirrel," Gorry said. "Good luck, boy! Don't burn the place down! And don't lose my ring!" With another grand gesture, the robe swelled and engulfed his mentor, leaving only his balding tattered head - and sunglasses - exposed to the world. His damn parrot latched onto the back of the pile and, with a sudden explosion in size, flapped its mighty wings and lifted Gorry off the ground, beyond the porch, and into the inky blackness called the Canvas. The last trace Taven caught of the man having ever been there a moment ago was the smell of age still lingering by the door and the fading cry of "Tahitiiiiiiiiii!"
Taven smiled. Gorry would have fun in Tahiti. He hoped that stupid bird got struck by lightening, though.
"Pactar?"
He felt a weight on his leg, then his back, and then his shoulder. His pet's whiskers brushed fondly against the side of his jaw.
"He's gone?"
"Yes, he's gone," Taven said. "They're both gone."
"Finally. I'm starving. I'm -"
"First thing's first," Taven told him. "We need to send a message to the other side to arrange a sit-down." His little squirrel growled. Obligingly, he added, "And then you can eat."
"You're too kind," Pactar sneered, then crawled back down Taven to the ground. "Making me work for my food... More like a slave driver. D'you have any idea how far away the other side is? The least you could've given me were wings."
"I can make you a parrot," Taven said. "Or a chicken."
"And I can make you a girl," Pactar shot back, "or sterile."
"Do what I tell you. I need you out of here so I know I'm free to change this place."
Limitless power, an endless imagination, and Gorry insisted on living in a barn. He didn't know if it was disgraceful or inspiring, the modesty of that man. The Wartorn had a power like no other. It should've been flaunted a little more. Well, it didn't matter now, not until the end of the week. The place was his. He'd fix it. Taven clapped his hands, and instantly the floor around him turned from a filthy brown into a polished marble tile, spreading out in a gold light until it consumed the entire room. The stables stretched and shrank away until the foyer was as grand and large as it always ought to have been, adorning themselves with heavy, sculpted doors that led to a dozen other rooms and a dozen other testaments to his strength. He began to walk around his new castle, wandering up the impressive stairs even as they formed under his feet. Soon his eyes were washed by the light of the great chandeliers on the ceiling and the pretty statues holding the lanterns he'd off-handedly set up along the walls.
Much better. Very classy. This was how it was supposed to look. His suit stuck out like a sore thumb in Gorry's meager abodes. Now, he almost felt under-dressed. His neat black tuxedo was still immaculate, however, and his tan vest and tie were as pristinely cleaned as they were the first time he'd made them, standing brilliantly against the white shirt he wore underneath. The tan handkerchief in his breast pocket was the only thing he needed to move. That was where he'd be keeping the ring. It melted beautifully into the silk fabric as he folded it up again and returned it to its rightful place.
Taven checked his watch. Only ten minutes had passed since Gorry had left and already it felt like he'd been alone for centuries. It was odd. It was... unsettling. He'd been with Gorry since the day he was born and, in the last eighty-seven years, had only been away from the old man for two days. A week wasn't much more of an improvement over that, but he knew he'd be feeling homesick - his home was wherever Gorry was - by the end of the night. But at least he had Pactar.
The squirrel bounded back to him. A small scroll was in his teeth. Taven had always preferred scrolls. Something as wonderful as this needed that traditional touch. Gorry just called the damn side with his cellphone. Where was the romance in that?
"Write away," Pactar said, "and then I'll bring it over. The whole way. The long way. On an empty stomach. With no shoes." Taven took the scroll and snapped his fingers. "Oh. Shoes. Thanks."
"We don't your ikkle paws getting sore," he said. "And I made them pink! I know you like pink."
"You know, I think I'm gonna make you sterile after all," Pactar muttered.
Enough of that. Taven had a letter to write.
"Read this," Taven said. "Tell me what you think."
"It's a little formal," Pactar said.
"You didn't look at it."
"It's always a little formal," Pactar said. But he read the letter. The squirrel frowned. "You put a hyphen in 'tomorrow'?"
"It's -"
"Elegant - yeah, whatever. I think you should just call them."
"Stop being lazy," Taven said, scooping the squirrel up. He got out a string and tied the scroll to the squirming thing's back. "Go over there, deliver the letter, get their reply, and then we'll meet."
"Why're you sending me? They always kill the messenger," Pactar whined.
"You don't talk to them," Taven said. "If they invite you in, stay outside. Throw the letter in, wait for their letter to get thrown out, and then you pick it up and bring it here."
"Or give them your number," Pactar said, "so they can call you."
"No. Letter." Taven walked to the door and threw the squirrel outside. "Go."
"Can't I just -"
"Pactar..."
"If that parrot comes back and eats me, I'm haunting your ass for the next rest of your life," Pactar shouted at him.
"I'll keep that in mind. Go."
Pactar did go, but not without a few more complaints. It was funny seeing him scamper across the Canvas. There was no visible ground, and although the frilly rodent's feet were clearly connecting with something, it always seemed as if he was running on the air. Taven could grant him that power, of course, but he preferred the traditional ways. They were so much more... enjoyable.
If only everyone else thought the same way.
Also, this is a one-on-one advanced roleplay. I'd like it to be either an m/f or m/m but I'd like some development before we get into any romantic stuff.
The final thing I have to say is that I need, when you're making your character sheet, your character history to be your first post, just so I can see what I'm getting into. :D I look forward to writing with you guys!]]
"This is my ring, Taven. It's a very special ring."
It wasn't.
"Right."
"The others would do anything to get their hands on it, but it's mine."
"Understood."
"I've recruited you for one very simple task: you must protect this ring at all costs."
"Gotcha."
"Well, here you go," Gorry said, as the old man yanked the silver band from his finger. His bones were so brittle and dry that Taven was almost amazed his wrinkled hand hadn't broken in the process. Those shriveled sticks reached out to him now, curling around the ring to keep it safe on its short voyage, then slowly, painfully, uncurled to drop the damn thing into the younger man's palm. "Keep that safe. Keep an eye on it."
"I'll be sure to do that," Taven said, clutching it tightly. "Enjoy your vacation."
"Be warned, boy," Gorry told him, giving him a piercing look though his grey hedge-maze eyebrows. "This is not the first time you've underestimated a situation. You must defend yourself with every ounce of power in your body and still find need for more. Any less, and they will sense your weakness. They will come for you, for me, and more importantly, my ring."
The cheap hunk of tin. Sure.
"I won't wait to unleash a swarm of plague-breathing dragons should a caterpillar dare to sneeze."
"If that's the best you can think of, maybe I should I stay."
Good grief, old man. Go away.
"I can assure you," Taven replied, "your concern is as adorable as it is unnecessary. My power exceeds your own, as you've made note of several times before."
"But your mind's as flaccid as your dick," Gorry snapped. "Do us a favour - mind your surroundings, but try to get laid every now and then while I'm away, hmm? I'm sure you can summon something."
"It's at the top of my list." More or less. "Shouldn't you be going?"
"And keep that damn squirrel out of my pantry." Gorry's old teeth began to grind on each other. "If I catch even -"
"Pactar will be well-behaved and under control," Taven said, taking the matter into his own hands and hustling his mentor out of the room. "I give you my word."
"Then I return it," Gorry said. "You'll need that, too."
The old man made sure his robe was wrapped tightly around himself - it was - before finally picking up his gnarled cane and slapping a hat on his head. He gave Taven a fierce nod of encouragement, snapped his fingers and popped up a pair of sunglasses, then turned around and threw his dry hand towards the door. Immediately, they burst open, kicking up a flurry of wind that sent Gorry's purple rags billowing and up. Fortunately, they bunched together and caught themselves before they went any further up his spindly legs. Of all the things Taven could create, a drill that'd bore deep enough into his brain to get that image out wasn't one of them.
"Try not to get killed," Taven said. "I expect to hear from you again in a week."
"You'll hear from me," Gorry promised. "I'll send my parrot. Come, Feathers!"
That asshole bird. It screeched through the air at the exact second its name was called, whipping past Taven's ear and digging its talons into his shoulder as it passed. It ripped his suit. He scowled. He could've sworn the bastard mutant-rat smirked as it landed on its master's shoulder.
"You'll forgive me if you come home to roasted chicken," Taven said. "I won't entertain that thing for more than a minute."
"Feathers is better than that squirrel," Gorry said. "Good luck, boy! Don't burn the place down! And don't lose my ring!" With another grand gesture, the robe swelled and engulfed his mentor, leaving only his balding tattered head - and sunglasses - exposed to the world. His damn parrot latched onto the back of the pile and, with a sudden explosion in size, flapped its mighty wings and lifted Gorry off the ground, beyond the porch, and into the inky blackness called the Canvas. The last trace Taven caught of the man having ever been there a moment ago was the smell of age still lingering by the door and the fading cry of "Tahitiiiiiiiiii!"
Taven smiled. Gorry would have fun in Tahiti. He hoped that stupid bird got struck by lightening, though.
"Pactar?"
He felt a weight on his leg, then his back, and then his shoulder. His pet's whiskers brushed fondly against the side of his jaw.
"He's gone?"
"Yes, he's gone," Taven said. "They're both gone."
"Finally. I'm starving. I'm -"
"First thing's first," Taven told him. "We need to send a message to the other side to arrange a sit-down." His little squirrel growled. Obligingly, he added, "And then you can eat."
"You're too kind," Pactar sneered, then crawled back down Taven to the ground. "Making me work for my food... More like a slave driver. D'you have any idea how far away the other side is? The least you could've given me were wings."
"I can make you a parrot," Taven said. "Or a chicken."
"And I can make you a girl," Pactar shot back, "or sterile."
"Do what I tell you. I need you out of here so I know I'm free to change this place."
Limitless power, an endless imagination, and Gorry insisted on living in a barn. He didn't know if it was disgraceful or inspiring, the modesty of that man. The Wartorn had a power like no other. It should've been flaunted a little more. Well, it didn't matter now, not until the end of the week. The place was his. He'd fix it. Taven clapped his hands, and instantly the floor around him turned from a filthy brown into a polished marble tile, spreading out in a gold light until it consumed the entire room. The stables stretched and shrank away until the foyer was as grand and large as it always ought to have been, adorning themselves with heavy, sculpted doors that led to a dozen other rooms and a dozen other testaments to his strength. He began to walk around his new castle, wandering up the impressive stairs even as they formed under his feet. Soon his eyes were washed by the light of the great chandeliers on the ceiling and the pretty statues holding the lanterns he'd off-handedly set up along the walls.
Much better. Very classy. This was how it was supposed to look. His suit stuck out like a sore thumb in Gorry's meager abodes. Now, he almost felt under-dressed. His neat black tuxedo was still immaculate, however, and his tan vest and tie were as pristinely cleaned as they were the first time he'd made them, standing brilliantly against the white shirt he wore underneath. The tan handkerchief in his breast pocket was the only thing he needed to move. That was where he'd be keeping the ring. It melted beautifully into the silk fabric as he folded it up again and returned it to its rightful place.
Taven checked his watch. Only ten minutes had passed since Gorry had left and already it felt like he'd been alone for centuries. It was odd. It was... unsettling. He'd been with Gorry since the day he was born and, in the last eighty-seven years, had only been away from the old man for two days. A week wasn't much more of an improvement over that, but he knew he'd be feeling homesick - his home was wherever Gorry was - by the end of the night. But at least he had Pactar.
The squirrel bounded back to him. A small scroll was in his teeth. Taven had always preferred scrolls. Something as wonderful as this needed that traditional touch. Gorry just called the damn side with his cellphone. Where was the romance in that?
"Write away," Pactar said, "and then I'll bring it over. The whole way. The long way. On an empty stomach. With no shoes." Taven took the scroll and snapped his fingers. "Oh. Shoes. Thanks."
"We don't your ikkle paws getting sore," he said. "And I made them pink! I know you like pink."
"You know, I think I'm gonna make you sterile after all," Pactar muttered.
Enough of that. Taven had a letter to write.
Dear Sir or Madam, Keeper of the Ring of the Other Side,
I write this letter in accordance with the customary approach of initiating a sit-down. I pray you find it within yourself to join me to-morrow so that we may discuss the rules of this war. As you know, this will be my first time facing against you. As such, your great disadvantage has been recognized. Rest assured, I will not exploit this unfamiliarity with my immense power lest you press my hand. I will be sure to re-iterate this promise and arrange the proper environment in which we are to fight during our meeting, as I expect you will once again refuse to accept a civil approach of peace and offer your surrender, preferring to continue to attack us for our ring.
Sincerely signed,
Taven
"Read this," Taven said. "Tell me what you think."
"It's a little formal," Pactar said.
"You didn't look at it."
"It's always a little formal," Pactar said. But he read the letter. The squirrel frowned. "You put a hyphen in 'tomorrow'?"
"It's -"
"Elegant - yeah, whatever. I think you should just call them."
"Stop being lazy," Taven said, scooping the squirrel up. He got out a string and tied the scroll to the squirming thing's back. "Go over there, deliver the letter, get their reply, and then we'll meet."
"Why're you sending me? They always kill the messenger," Pactar whined.
"You don't talk to them," Taven said. "If they invite you in, stay outside. Throw the letter in, wait for their letter to get thrown out, and then you pick it up and bring it here."
"Or give them your number," Pactar said, "so they can call you."
"No. Letter." Taven walked to the door and threw the squirrel outside. "Go."
"Can't I just -"
"Pactar..."
"If that parrot comes back and eats me, I'm haunting your ass for the next rest of your life," Pactar shouted at him.
"I'll keep that in mind. Go."
Pactar did go, but not without a few more complaints. It was funny seeing him scamper across the Canvas. There was no visible ground, and although the frilly rodent's feet were clearly connecting with something, it always seemed as if he was running on the air. Taven could grant him that power, of course, but he preferred the traditional ways. They were so much more... enjoyable.
If only everyone else thought the same way.
Rules
The GM of this roleplay hasn't created any rules! You can do whatever you like!
Reviews
There haven't been any official reviews of this roleplay yet!
View All »Characters
Visit »The Orphanage
These poor, unfortunate souls were once a part of this great world, but have been abandoned. Why don't you consider viewing their profiles and making a decision on whether or not you can roleplay them accurately?
Character Application
You can't post in this roleplay until you submit a profile for approval. Fill out the following form with your character information:
Places in Come and Kill Me
1 postsThe Canvas
None
View All »Groups
There are no groups in this roleplay.
Reply to this roleplay »
Activity
- 1 posts here • Page 1 of 1
OOC Notes
Dusk was falling on the two story, cottage like house. Cedar shingles were turning black as the sun was dipping away behind a clump of massive pine trees, nestled in the back of the house. It was a quaint little place, with small windows, whose shutters were beginning to close and lock up for the night. A gray tin roof was practically invisible save for the orange swatch of light still hitting it just on the west side of the home. Beyond the garden, just within the line of tall trees, was the Servant's Quarters. Another two story building with rooms and bathrooms for each devoted servant to the home. Polly always thought it necessary to have servants.
"A woman should always be able to take care of herself. But if there is no need at the time, than servants are always nice." The five of them didn't seem to dislike living in the cottage, in fact, it was always bustling with something. Each servant contributed nicely to the place giving it a peaceful flow full of energy and compassion.
At the moment, the newest mistress sat in the study, drinking a glass of milk and reading a book. The young woman was leaned back leisurely, its pages concealing her face from the fire burning in the little hearth to her left. With her booted feet propped up on the corner of the elaborately carved desk, she flipped a page. Swish. It sounded like air passing through leaves. Laera always loved that sound. It reminded her of the days when Polly would sit in this very chair, flipping through her notebooks, while Laera practiced creating plants and animals on the floor. She was so happy and ignorant then, a star pupil full of life and love.
Then she'd read it. That letter. The one that had been so mercilessly attached to a child in a basket.
Another flip of the page, this was sharper than the last. A rather fat, black and white cat laying listlessly in front of the hearth, perked its ears up.
Those damned people. Those damned ignorant, narrow-minded--
She slammed the book down and growled.
"William, I cannot read." She hissed, her sapphire eyes burning along with the flames. The cat lifted his head, as if to show signs of life, but then dropped it back down to the rug. This seemed to anger Laera more and she stood up, the chair she'd been sitting in squealing its legs across the wood. It was screaming in pain, for that was the umpteenth time she'd done that to it. There was little more the poor wooden chair could take.
"Without Polly, my mind wanders to-to... places!" She was looking for the cat to purr or meow or say something to her. To at least acknowledge her plight. But he'd had a long day chasing birds and he was tired. Besides, this was the umpteenth time Laera had burst out in anger over Polly's passing. It had been over two months now, but he and all the servants knew she was still grieving. The woman had no other way of showing her sorrow except through anger. This had always been, no matter how much Polly or anyone else tried to help. It was written in her eyes as she stormed over to the window that had not yet been shuttered up, and she leaned her temple against its frame. This pain in her heart was almost the same as that morning.
The sun was shining, but her heart was dark. Blue eyes read the last line over and over again.
...We will put it down...
She squeezed her eyes shut, the sun already set when she reopened them. Her parents had left her without having ever truly loved her. Polly had left her, and she'd been the only person who expressed the love that Laera had missed. Long, thin fingers reached up and touched the medallion. Outside the window, thousands of fireflies began appearing, like Christmas lights in a city. For some reason, this beauty always brought her comfort. They blinked and sparkled and moved in one continuous motion, until, still lighting up, they formed into the outline of a tall woman with flowing hair and a long skirt. She smiled at Laera.
"You cannot bring her back." The voice was deep. A voice of reason and peace. The black and white cat jumped laboriously onto the window sill and nudged her elbow with his head. The fireflies flew apart and went to decorate the trees above the servants home. The young woman sighed and growled in aggravation. Those long fingers ran through her black hair, shapeless bangs falling back over her furrowed eyebrows.
"I realize that, William." Looking back into the darkness, she hit the wall with the side of her fist. "I think I'm the one who knows that best." Staring out into the forest, Laera's eyes narrowed. "We have a visitor, William. I believe you should go outside and greet him, as usual." She could sense that damn thing from miles away within the Canvas. The trees were beginning to give way to darkness and the woman saw into what was so familiar to her. Moving from the window, her breath released itself slowly.
"It's the damned Gorry." She smirked. "I'm surprised the old bastard didn't call me this time. What an idiot." William lowered his head as she left the room and stomped up the stairs. Slowly, he meandered out through the glass of the window, like a being through fog, and jumped onto the soft grass below it. He knew Laera wanted him to kill whatever thing Gorry had sent, be it his pet or some sad creature he'd created. But William had his own plan in mind.
Laera was needing a little change in her life and who better to help with that?
"A woman should always be able to take care of herself. But if there is no need at the time, than servants are always nice." The five of them didn't seem to dislike living in the cottage, in fact, it was always bustling with something. Each servant contributed nicely to the place giving it a peaceful flow full of energy and compassion.
At the moment, the newest mistress sat in the study, drinking a glass of milk and reading a book. The young woman was leaned back leisurely, its pages concealing her face from the fire burning in the little hearth to her left. With her booted feet propped up on the corner of the elaborately carved desk, she flipped a page. Swish. It sounded like air passing through leaves. Laera always loved that sound. It reminded her of the days when Polly would sit in this very chair, flipping through her notebooks, while Laera practiced creating plants and animals on the floor. She was so happy and ignorant then, a star pupil full of life and love.
Then she'd read it. That letter. The one that had been so mercilessly attached to a child in a basket.
Another flip of the page, this was sharper than the last. A rather fat, black and white cat laying listlessly in front of the hearth, perked its ears up.
Those damned people. Those damned ignorant, narrow-minded--
She slammed the book down and growled.
"William, I cannot read." She hissed, her sapphire eyes burning along with the flames. The cat lifted his head, as if to show signs of life, but then dropped it back down to the rug. This seemed to anger Laera more and she stood up, the chair she'd been sitting in squealing its legs across the wood. It was screaming in pain, for that was the umpteenth time she'd done that to it. There was little more the poor wooden chair could take.
"Without Polly, my mind wanders to-to... places!" She was looking for the cat to purr or meow or say something to her. To at least acknowledge her plight. But he'd had a long day chasing birds and he was tired. Besides, this was the umpteenth time Laera had burst out in anger over Polly's passing. It had been over two months now, but he and all the servants knew she was still grieving. The woman had no other way of showing her sorrow except through anger. This had always been, no matter how much Polly or anyone else tried to help. It was written in her eyes as she stormed over to the window that had not yet been shuttered up, and she leaned her temple against its frame. This pain in her heart was almost the same as that morning.
The sun was shining, but her heart was dark. Blue eyes read the last line over and over again.
...We will put it down...
She squeezed her eyes shut, the sun already set when she reopened them. Her parents had left her without having ever truly loved her. Polly had left her, and she'd been the only person who expressed the love that Laera had missed. Long, thin fingers reached up and touched the medallion. Outside the window, thousands of fireflies began appearing, like Christmas lights in a city. For some reason, this beauty always brought her comfort. They blinked and sparkled and moved in one continuous motion, until, still lighting up, they formed into the outline of a tall woman with flowing hair and a long skirt. She smiled at Laera.
"You cannot bring her back." The voice was deep. A voice of reason and peace. The black and white cat jumped laboriously onto the window sill and nudged her elbow with his head. The fireflies flew apart and went to decorate the trees above the servants home. The young woman sighed and growled in aggravation. Those long fingers ran through her black hair, shapeless bangs falling back over her furrowed eyebrows.
"I realize that, William." Looking back into the darkness, she hit the wall with the side of her fist. "I think I'm the one who knows that best." Staring out into the forest, Laera's eyes narrowed. "We have a visitor, William. I believe you should go outside and greet him, as usual." She could sense that damn thing from miles away within the Canvas. The trees were beginning to give way to darkness and the woman saw into what was so familiar to her. Moving from the window, her breath released itself slowly.
"It's the damned Gorry." She smirked. "I'm surprised the old bastard didn't call me this time. What an idiot." William lowered his head as she left the room and stomped up the stairs. Slowly, he meandered out through the glass of the window, like a being through fog, and jumped onto the soft grass below it. He knew Laera wanted him to kill whatever thing Gorry had sent, be it his pet or some sad creature he'd created. But William had his own plan in mind.
Laera was needing a little change in her life and who better to help with that?
- 1 posts here • Page 1 of 1
Come and Kill Me: Out Of Character (OOC)
-
- Topics
- Replies
- Views
- Last post
-
-
Come and Kill Me
by Tartra on Sun Jul 11, 2010 2:18 pm
- 3 Replies
- 112 Views
- Last post by Lovely VonSchultz
on Wed Jul 14, 2010 2:18 am
-
Come and Kill Me
Most recent OOC posts in Come and Kill Me
Re: [OOC] Come and Kill Me
Hi, Yumiko! For some really odd reason, I can't get into my PMs. I have no idea why. Just letting you know that I really enjoyed your post, but I'm waiting on another couple of applicants before I make my decision. :D
Re: [OOC] Come and Kill Me
Hellooooo....
I was wondering if you were gonna wait for more applicants? Or choose quickly?
I don't mean to be impatient, I just get anxious. :3
I was wondering if you were gonna wait for more applicants? Or choose quickly?
I don't mean to be impatient, I just get anxious. :3
[OOC] Come and Kill Me
This is the auto-generated OOC topic for the roleplay "Come and Kill Me"
You may edit this first post as you see fit.
You may edit this first post as you see fit.
