How NOT to roleplay

[ViceVersus]

From the depths of the never-ending, incandescent nothing there sprang forth a being of such insurmountable power and beauty, of such crushing and delicate features that all who were near must have stopped, stared with wide, baleful eyes at the sight of the phantasm not quite sure of its bound presence in this reality, for nothing so gorgeous or so extraordinary had been seen in the recent days, months, years, decades, centuries and nothing of equal, matching virtue shall ever be seen again either here or beyond despite the sayings of scripture and against all odds. In a clap, a blast of pure and unrelenting light -- light that flared as brilliant and as bright as a thousand-million suns -- the being sprang forth as lithe and as energetic as a gazelle prancing along the African Sahara to the beat and the cadence of all existence here, now, and in the future. Her hair was a rich, textured gold that fell in cascades down to the small of her back where it waved gently in the breeze like palm trees in the wind on the beaches of the most exotic of lands and her blue eyes were reminiscent of the deepest, truest sky from that one summer you can't quite remember. Her pert mouth twisted down not in an unpleasant frown, but a frown that made one think that not everything was well in the world, and from this dissonance there rose a quiver in the back of the throats of anyone who might have saw her. She was a beauty so transfixing, so perfect that she caught all who saw her on a string.

She looked around at the park.

"Cool."

[Script]

In the centre of the park, amongst the flower beds of phantasmagorical colour and beauty, each petal drifting in the wind like a feather carried from the top of a mountain so high as to touch the Gods themselves, a man stood with his eyes directed solidly in the downward direction toward the ground, the cold earth representative of the boundary between us and the molten core of the planet, such a fragile crust of rock compared to the seemingly endless mass of heat and shifting metals, lava and magma. The man's arms were to his sides, rigid as the grave and straight as a perfect ruler's edge, his fists clenched in a manner befitting boundless rage, his nails digging so far into his pale, silken skin that they drew blood -- crimson flows of life, pouring over every contour of his flesh in a boundless trickle of the very essence of life, filling his veins and pumped from his heart, throbbing and pounding in his chest beneath the many layers of humanity that cover the soul. His eyes were endless pits of tormented emotion, each glance a trial akin to the devil's realm itself, hell in all its forms and circles, and the fire of utter hatred that burned within was inconceivable in its depth and power, burning and searing at the very essence of those that dared to meet the figure's gaze, the fury of Gods contained within his gaze.

"They must die." he whispered, his voice like gravel wrapped in silk, a rough edge drawn almost noiselessly over a smooth surface, scraping and winding in tone like a snake in the grass. Endless derision and superiority filled his voice, he spoke as if he were king, god and destroyer all at once.

With agonisingly slow movement, like a tortoise in the endless chase to the hare bounding in leaps and strides ahead, steady and slow but determined, the man lifted his arm out as a solid glow began to form in his palm, white as light can be and swirling like a hurricane and tornado, filled with the fire of his burning hatred that was contained within his eyes, and as he did so the wind stirred, gathering around him in a vortex that signalled the coming of the end -- ragnarok, the apocalypse, the end of days, judgement. It was upon them, for he was displeased, and all would tremble before him and despair at their lives that they should come to a crux at the hand of this one angel, devil, death -- allpowerful being of might.

And with an almighty roar -- louder than the gods themselves crying out for justice, greater than Zeus' thunder itself, he cast his hand down, down in an arc that swept through the air like a sword, cutting its path downwards and parting matter itself with its speed and strength and fury, almighty power resonating from his aura and being. "IT ENDS" he screamed, his voice echoing as if he were at the base of the grand canyon greater in size by tenfold, and as his hand met the floor in a mighty crash, rock and dirt flying up as the powerful burst of strength caused a shockwave of great force beyond that of any human, any mortal or immortal, natural or supernatural, even the gods themselves trembling at the might, and the earth rose up in a mighty wave and swathes of destruction echoed around the park, the screams of innocents piercing the air like a thousand knives and a thousand spears and a thousand swords -- the swords and knives and spears of fallen soldiers in battle, crying out for salvation and justice, but they would have none. And so the mighty roar shook the earth itself and destruction laid claim to the landscape, crushing all that stood before it in a swathe of power that tore the entire area from its roots and shattered it like glass.

And the man nodded, laughing, his laugh echoing around a thousand times. "So it is!" he said, throwing his head back in madness - the madness of power and rage, the madness of injustice and destruction. And all around him death claimed its bounty in the thousands, for it had come to the world and he would see its end.

[Esquire]

John Stalvern waited. The lights above him blinked and sparked out of the air. There were demons in the base. He didn't see them, but had expected them now for years. His warnings to Cernel Joson were not listenend to and now it was too late. Far too late for now, anyway.
John was a space marine for fourteen years. When he was young he watched the spaceships and he said to dad "I want to be on the ships daddy."
Dad said "No! You will BE KILL BY DEMONS"
There was a time when he believed him. Then as he got oldered he stopped. But now in the space station base of the UAC he knew there were demons.
"This is Joson" the radio crackered. "You must fight the demons!"
So John gotted his palsma rifle and blew up the wall.
"HE GOING TO KILL US" said the demons
"I will shoot at him" said the cyberdemon and he fired the rocket missiles. John plasmaed at him and tried to blew him up. But then the ceiling fell and they were trapped and not able to kill.
"No! I must kill the demons" he shouted
The radio said "No, John. You are the demons"
And then John was a zombie.

(I did not write this! From www.peterchimera.com It's just a classic and when I saw the "RP"ing here, I just thought of this instantly. :P)

[SinclairWilde]

johnwaz a zombi he must kill the dmons. i knew that i would nvr see him again and i ran away, flew to the moon and became a wolf.

[Raize]

i blinNked nd thn the wrld xplodedd.

[Necrasha]

Hey guy s Im lookin for the sign up place for this awesome roleplay you have here, where do i go to get a character :)