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Wheezing Fatcat

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            There are a few things you need to know in order to find your way down the Rabbit Hole. First, before filling out a skeleton you must first reserve a spot. To reserve a spot, you will need to send a PM to anekochan that states which spot you would like to reserve along with a sample of your role playing. This sample must be of size and content equal to what you post regularly - if you give us a sample that is long and well written, then submit short, crappy writing after we accept you, you will be ejected from this role play. After your reservation is given the go ahead, you may fill out the profile skeleton. This will also need to be sent to anekochan and approved before you may post it in the profile thread.

            Characters are open to interpretation, but there are a few things that must be kept in mind. First, the Alice character must be named Alice or go by Alice. Second, the land of Fae is very heavily influenced by fairy tales, as is each Fae. This means your Fae character must somehow be influenced by a fairy tale - allergic to apples, very long hair, glass shoes, etc. Each player is allotted only one character, with the exception of very close twins, split personalities, and animal familiars. Also, beware the Mary-Sue factor - we will not accept your character if he or she displays any of these characteristics.

Applying Skeleton
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Wheezing Fatcat

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            This is the Skeleton you must fill out once your reservation has been accepted.

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            xxxxxxxxxxxx Character's name
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            xxxxxxxxxxxx Character's age and age they appear, if they are different
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            xxxxxxxxxxxx Short personality - less than a paragraph:Funner to find out during the game.
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            xxxxxxxxxxxx Short bio - only include things that are important. No longer than a pragraph.
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            xxxxxxxxxxxx Your username.

[align=center][img]Picture here - real photo only - no "scene kids"/celebrities[/img][/align]
[color=white]xxxxxxxxxxxx[/color][size=24]❧[/size] [color=#e05c06][u][color=black][size=11]Character's name[/size][/color][/u][/color]
[color=white]xxxxxxxxxxxx[/color][size=24]❧[/size] [color=#e05c06][u][color=black][size=11]Character's age and age they appear, if they are different[/size][/color][/u][/color]
[color=white]xxxxxxxxxxxx[/color][size=24]❧[/size] [color=#e05c06][u][color=black][size=11]Short personality - less than a paragraph:Funner ot find out during the game.[/size][/color][/u][/color]
[color=white]xxxxxxxxxxxx[/color][size=24]❧[/size] [color=#e05c06][u][color=black][size=11]Short bio - only include things that are important. No longer than a pragraph.[/size][/color][/u][/color]
[color=white]xxxxxxxxxxxx[/color][size=24]❧[/size] [color=#e05c06][u][color=black][size=11]Your username.[/size][/color][/u][/color][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list]

Applying Skeleton
anekochan's avatar

Wheezing Fatcat

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            xxxxxxxxxxxx Anike Die Unersättlich
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            xxxxxxxxxxxx Over two hundred, but looks about nineteen.
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            xxxxxxxxxxxx Mischeivous and playful, Anike has a bit of a mean streak. Also has a bad habit of eating children, but she's been cutting back - all that fatty flesh! She's not as young as she used to be, you know.
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            xxxxxxxxxxxx Anike is the great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandaughter of the very first Unersättlich, made famous for preying on two dutch children you might know as Hansel and Gretal. Children are getting harder and harder to steal away as time passes, though, and she's gotten into her fair share of trouble for it. She's been trying to tame her bad habit, but it's proving hard to overcome.
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            xxxxxxxxxxxx anekochan
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Wheezing Fatcat

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ωɧʏ ɗσ ɓɩɾɗș șυɗɗεnℓʏ ɑppεɑɾ, εvεɾʏ țɩmε ʏσυ ɑɾε nεɑɾ?
ωɧʏ ɗσ șțɑɾș fɑℓℓ συt of țɧε șκʏ, εvεɾʏ țɩmε ʏσυ ωɑℓκ bʏ?


                  Silence. He just . . . He just couldn’t stand the silence.

                  Daniel’s troubled blue eyes shot around the room, the same tiny white room he’d been in for months. It was sparsely filled, the only furniture being the cot he sat on and a small desk and a hamper in the corner. He had a closet, though, but he never went in there - he assumed the door was locked, but t then, maybe it wasn’t? He wasn’t sure.

                  The room was not only maddeningly quiet and white, but it was cold, too. The thin white gown Daniel wore did nothing to stave off the cold that seeped into his bones, neither did the sheet he had bundled himself up in. He wished there was some noise in the room, anything at all. A clock to tick, as annoying as that might be, or a leaky pipe to drip. Anything, really, just as long as it wasn’t so damned quiet.

                  “Why do . . . Birds, suddenly appear . . . “ he sang quietly, his voice cracked from so long without speaking. The song was one of his favorites, a sweet song he remembered hearing from someone. “Every time, you are near?”

                  He closed his eyes, reaching a hand up and winding it into a lock of shoulder length blonde hair. Daniel was a rather well-built boy, as before his ‘incident’ he had been quite athletic. His limbs were long and filled out, light freckles dotting almost his entire body. Months of fretting over whether or not things were really there, and worrying over what might be lurking in the shadows or hiding just behind him had left dark shadows under his eyes, a perpetual frown on his lips. He would have been very attractive were it not for the weariness on his face and the hint of madness in his eyes.

                  He twisted the fingers in his hair, burrowing himself deeper into his sheet. “Just like me, they long to be-”

                  What was that?

                  He stiffened as he heard something rustling, felt something brush against his sheet-wrapped legs. Dare he look? He opened one eye just a crack, looking at the room through the curtain of his lashes. Birds, pure white birds, flew around his room, long feathers trailing from their tails like exotic birds of paradise. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly. No, there couldn’t be birds in his room - their were bars on the one tiny window he had, and the glass didn’t slide open, anyways, so how would they have gotten in? He must be imagining them. Yes, that was sit, he had imagined them. He tried to drown out the sound of their wings fluttering with his singing, raising the volume of his words over the sound of them.

                  “Close to you. Why do stars, fall out of the sky . . . Every time, you walk by? Just like me, they long to be, close to-”

                  He stopped, listening intently. The sound of wings was gone, did that mean the birds had left? Before he could open his eyes he felt something brush across his cheek. A startled yelp escaped his lips and his eyes shot open. What he saw took his breath away. Butterflies, a little flock of them, shimmering black and blue, fluttered about him. Falling from their wings like pixie dust were tiny stars, shining like jewels as they fell onto his bed and gathered like dust.

                  “Beautiful.” he breathed, working his hand out of his hair and reaching to touch one. The group fluttered out of reach, drifting off towards the closet door on the wall next o his bed. He watched them go, sucking in a startled breath as he saw that, somehow, the closet door was cracked, a gap maybe three inches wide leading inside. This is where the butterflies went, fluttering inside and leaving a trail of dust behind them.

                  Daniel waited a moment, hesitating. Should he investigate? His sheet rustled loudly as he struggled to untangle himself from it, Goosebumps pimpling his pale flesh as he threw his legs over the edge of the bed and gingerly stood up. His steps were light and quiet as a cat as he padded over to the door, reaching out and giving the door a quick jab to open it wider. Was there something in there? He though her heard something.

                  “H-hello?” he called into the darkness of the closet, winding his hand back into his hair as he strained to hear any response.

                  “Is . . . Is someone there?”


ȷυșț ℓɩκε mε țɧεʏ ℓong țσ ɓε cℓσșε țσ ʏσυ.
anekochan's avatar

Wheezing Fatcat

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Wheezing Fatcat

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anekochan's avatar

Wheezing Fatcat

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Єlɩȥɑɓєtɦ Clɑɾɩɗgє
. : Tɦє Șlєєpєɾ ɩη tɦє Ӈɑllσωs : .


              She expected silence. She expected to close her eyes and never hear or see anything ever again. She expected eternal rest in peace and quiet.

              None of those things happened.

              From the moment Elizabeth had been turned into the awful creature that she was there had been nothing but chaos. All memory of her life before that terrifying night was gone, replaced by the sound of screaming; hers after she discovered the nature of what she was, and theirs after they had put a name to it - Vampire. Names of loved ones washed away by the sound of rain, perpetually present, it seemed, in her new home in England.Here she learned to hunt, to use her Vampiric charm to seduce her prey and lull them into a swoon as she took their life. Faces of friends and family she might of had replaced by the sight of a roomful of ladies and gentlemen years and miles away from there, primped and groomed to perfection, whispering behind their hands. Thoughts of her old home drown out by the sound of hooves thundering under her, after her, around her, chasing her away from all that she knew. Tears. Laughter. Everything, every noise and sight imaginable, amplified not only by her unnaturally heightened senses but by the fact that it all reminded her how separate she was from the world around her, how alone.

              Elizabeth's life was a nomadic one, traveling from place to place, staying until suspicion began to grow and then moving on. She lived this way until, in the year fourteen ninety-two, approximately ninety-two years after her birth, an explorer by the name of Christopher Columbus discovered a new world and opened up a realm of new and wondrous possibilities. Soon all of Europe was scrambling to claim a piece of the New World, eyes filled with stars and minds full of dreams of adventure and wealth. Elizabeth joined them, her time-gathered fortune providing her with a seat upon a ship across the sea and a loft new home, complete with a small farm and hired hands to work it for her.

              For a few years, things were quieter, her life was calm, but things were soon to change. Settlers kept coming, filling every available space with a home, a farm, a town. Cities sprung up about her, and with so many people it grew, as always, harder and harder to hide her strange existence from them. She was forced to begin her cycle of moving, settling, and leaving all over again, resuming the very lifestyle she had sought escape from. A deep depression began to settle on her, along with a terrifying apathy towards life, both of which drove her near mad until sometime in the mid seventeen hundreds it became too much for her to bear. She sent her servants away from her, sold her livestock, and dug herself a grave deep beneath her home.

              Reprieve was once again denied her however as, despite her depth beneath the earth and stone of her home, her half slumbering mind was still active, her preternatural hearing picking up every sound, no matter how minute. She could hear her house settling and aging, hear the steps of those who inhabited it, hear the rain, the wind, everyhting. As years passed she picked up even odder things; radio transmissions, television buzz, the sound of cars, and though she did not understand these things they plagued her mind and denied her the quiet solace she so sought. Soon she could sleep no longer, and, after years without feeding, she had not the strength to dig herself up, nor did she have the will.

              She lay there, buried under tons of mud and dirt, unable to move, unable to open her eyes, and lacking the drive to even try. She lost count of how many years passed in this manner, her mind wandering, body weakening, until one day after years and years of emptiness the sound of occupation filled the house above her.

              Someone was there, someone living, breathing.

              Her hearing was such that she could hear their blood pumping through their veins, the thick, steady slushing of it. She could almost smell it, it was so close, but so frustratingly far away. The hunger drove her mad - if she only had a little, just a little, she could be back to her normal state, and after so many decades in the dirt, she was ready now to live once more.

              As soon as the sun set on the night her mind was made she began to move. Just barely at first as she remembered how to move and use her limbs, but soon she was digging, her strength greater than any mortals even after such a long sleep. It took her two nights, interrupted by the coma-like sleep that took her during the day, but finally she reached the top. With a great burst of strength she pulled herself out of the ground in a shower of dirt, a cry of exertion that was almost a growl tearing from her lips. Without thought of what was around her she heaved the rest of her body from the ground and collapsed, sucking in great gulps of stale air, working her lungs for the first time in hundreds of years. She was alive again, part of the world again, and despite her weakness she felt full of life.

              As she caught her breath the sound of a heartbeat caught her attention. She jerked her head in the direction of the noise, vivid green eyes resting on a man standing not four feet from where she lay. She sat up, eyes locked on him, hunger making her body shake imperceptibly as the scent of blood clogged her nostrils. Long locks of tangled brown hair fell to her waist, the tight curls inherited from her Spanish mother weighted down by clumps of mud and dirt, Her dress was rotting and falling apart, her legs almost bare and only shreds of the once elegantly ruffled sleeves remaining.

              She wanted him, wanted to sink her teeth into his flesh and drain the life from him, but she could not bring herself to move, merely staring at him, delicate face drawn and weary, eyes shining wit an unnatural hunger. She doubted he could fend her off, even weak as she was. It would be a short fight, if any. However tempting the idea was, though, she resisted, as she had always more enjoyed her meals when they came to her willingly. She had gone this long without feeding, after all - she could wait a little longer. After a few short moments she drug herself to her feet, clinging to a nearby support bean to keep her steady.

              “Who,” she croaked, her voice cracked and quiet from so long without speaking.

              “Who . . . Are you? And why are you . . . In my home?”
anekochan's avatar

Wheezing Fatcat

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Short and sweet, yes?

★So, I want to play a Harry Potter verse role play, one on one or maybe small, small group - like three or four people.

    I'll tell you now, I have not read all the books, I am not an obsessed fan, and I've only seen all of the movies once. I am not interested in re-playing the movies/book plot, nor do I have any interest in playing the already created characters.

    I find the idea of Hogwarts to be very interesting, and had a few character's that I made that I think would be fun to play.

    I'd love to pretend that Harry Potter never existed and all the intense s**t that went down in the movies/books isn't going down in our role play.

    Now, as for plot, I am open to suggestions, as I know you will all be bored by just playing through the school year with no devious acts going on or some sort of evil attempting to penetrate the school. I would love it if we could keep it centered within the school, y'know, go to some classes, hang out in the dorms, play some Quiditch maybe.

★If anyone is interested in working something out, please post here or send me a PM, alrighty?

Oh, and if you're planning on advertising your group role play here, I will not join something more than two pages into the story, so keep that in mind.
anekochan's avatar

Wheezing Fatcat

As we go on, we remember,
All the times we had together.
And as our lives change, from whatever,
We will still be friends forever.


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So if we get the big jobs
And we make the big money
When we look back now
Will our jokes still be funny?

                          “Aw, no!”

                          The silence of the two girl’s cab was shattered by the cry, followed y a solid think as a handful of books and papers fell to the ground. The train rattled and swayed as it sped it’s way down the track, the scenery that rushed by outside the windows that of peaceful green fields and lakes smooth and shining like mirrors. The girl sitting by the window turned, blowing a lock of mussed black hair from her face absently, blue eyes settling on her friend who sat on the bench opposite of her.

                          "What?” she asked, her voice more annoyed than worried. Her friend pouted, tucking her cropped black hair behind her ear as she continued to dig in the large satchel in her lap.

                          “I think I left my Intermediate Transfiguration book at home!” She pulled a pile of notebooks from her bag and dropped them on the bench beside her, adding them to the messy pile of papers and books she had already deposited there.

                          “Geeze, Charlie, you always forget something. Maybe we should write you a checklist and pin it to your sweater.”

                          “Mellissa, I’m not five, I don’t need a checklist.” Charlie snapped, tipping her bag upside down with an angry huff. Mellissa rolled her eyes and turned back to leaning against the window, shaking her head with a laugh.

                          The two girls were on their way to their fourth year at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry after a break that seemed too short to one and far too long for the other. They were both in the same House, ties and scarves sporting the blue and bronze of Ravenclaw, and, as they were both girls, they had been roommates for all three previous years and would be this year, too.

                          Charlie threw her arms into the air and plopped back in her seat, crossing her arms and glaring down at the mess of things that surrounded her on the bench and floor of their cab.

                          “I can’t believe I left it!” she whined, shoulders slumped defeatedly as she set about shoving her things back into her bag. “The Professor is going to kill me, I just know it.”

                          “Oh chill, Charlie, don’t be so dramatic.” Mellissa said with a roll of her eyes. Charlie always took things like this so seriously. She needed to learn to calm down and relax a little - the world wasn’t going to end because she left her textbook behind.

                          “Just send an owl home and get it sent to you.” Mellissa added, turning to help her friend scoop her things up off the floor. When they were almost done the door to their cab suddenly slid open, the two girls looking up and bonking heads with a series of startled yelps and curses.

                          “Sorry, ladies.” the boy that stood at the doorway said, an apologetic grin on his lips. He pushed his glasses up on his face, running a hand through his mussed brown hair as he apologized.

                          “Didn’t mean to startle you. It took me forever to find you guys. Why didn’t you wait for me at the station?” He stepped over the two and seated himself where Mellissa had previously been sitting, setting his bag next to him and watching the girls as they stuffed Charlie’s things back into her satchel.

                          “Charlie leave something at home again?” he asked.

                          “Of course she did.” Mellissa said, standing up and stretching her arms above her head.

                          “Wouldn’t be right if she didn’t.”

                          “Shut up, Daniel.” Charlie dropped her re-packed bag down on the bench and plopped down next to it, bottom lip sticking out in a slight pout as she glared at her two friends.

                          “So,” Daniel said. He leaned forward in his seat, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Did you guys hear?”

                          Mellissa sat down next to Charlie, brow raised. “Hear what?” she asked. The two girls leaned in closer to hear him, the three huddled together in what was obviously a gossip-circle.

                          “There’s a guy - a fourth year, I think - who just moved to England. This is going to be his first year at Hogwarts.”

                          Charlie and Mellissa looked at each other, brows raised. They had never met anybody from any of the other wizarding schools in the world. They knew they were out there, but it just always felt like Hogwarts was the only real school like it, however conceited that feeling was.

                          “What house is he in?” Mellissa asked.

                          “Where did he move from?” Charlie chimed in.

                          Daniel shrugged. “I’m not sure. I heard he was in Hufflepuff, but I also heard he was in Gryffindor, too. As for where he‘s from, no idea.”

                          “Well, don’t you just suck at gossiping?” Mellissa said, leaning back into her seat with her arms folded behind her head.

                          “What?” Daniel said, sitting up and holding his hands up as if to say “I told you everything I know”.

                          “You don’t know anything ‘cept that there’s a new kid. Useless, that’s what you are.” Mellissa added with a yawn.

                          “That’s all I heard, ok?” Daniel snapped, sitting back and crossing his arms. The two glared at each other for a moment before smiles broke through their scowls, laughter filling the space of their cabin.

                          “You guys are so weird.” Charlie mumbled, shaking her head and digging a notebook from inside her bag. She settled back in her seat and cracked it open, proceeding to look over last years notes in order to freshen herself on whatever subject it was.

                          “You’re not so un-weird yourself, Chuck.” Daniel retorted, kicking his feet up onto the bench between Charlie and Mellissa. “So, how was you’re guys’ summer?” He asked.

                          Mellissa shook her head. “An entire summer with Aunt Lauren. What fun I had.” she groaned, pumping her fist with sarcastic enthusiasm. Daniel laughed.

                          “Ooh, sounds like a blast.”

                          “Tell me about it.” Mellissa agreed, tossing her head to rid her view of a lock of tangled hair.

                          “What about you, Chuck. Anything exciting?”

                          Charlie looked up from her notebook and shrugged.

                          “We got a new dog.” she said. “He’s just a puppy, but he’s rather large already.”

                          “Nice.” Daniel said with a laugh.

                          “Not really.” Charlie shrugged. “Just sleeps and drools all day.”

                          They all laughed, filling the rest of the train ride with summer stories about dogs and aunts and older brothers with new cars, everything and anything they could chat about. Daniel was in a different house than the two girls, a valiant and courageous Gryffindor - the girls were both pretty sure that had been some sort of mix up, as Daniel was nowhere near as gentlemanly and honest as they would expect a Gryffindor to be. They only really got to be together during any classes they had together and during times when they could meet places like the library or in one of the hallways. Never any sneaking around, though, as first year they had been caught out after curfew and Charlie had never really recovered from the shock.

                          As the train finally pulled into the school’s station their conversations halted just long enough for them to gather their things and exit the train, then picked up again as they boarded the unmanned carriages that took them the rest of the way to the school. It was a bit of a hassle getting inside, as they had to wade through a crowd of tiny little first years that clogged the entry way, but at last they mad it in, drawing their chatting to a close as they reached the Great Hall. The girls said their goodbye’s to Daniel and headed to their respective tables, settling in and catching up with a few other friends as they waited for the sorting to begin.


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anekochan's avatar

Wheezing Fatcat

As we go on, we remember,
All the times we had together.
And as our lives change, from whatever,
We will still be friends forever.


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I guess I thought that this would never end
And suddenly it's like we're women and men
Will the past be a shadow that will follow us 'round?
Will these memories fade when I leave this town

                          “Sorry! Sorry!” the girl apologized, squeezing her way past a couple of students heading the opposite direction form her down the hall. Most of the students enjoyed the train ride to Hogwarts, staring out the windows and running up and down the halls excitedly - little first and second years, mostly - but Charlie didn’t. After seven years of waddling unsteadily up and down the hall to the bathroom and back she was far from excited about it. It didn’t matter how many Dramamine she took beforehand she still spent the whole trip sick as a dog.

                          When finally she reached her seat she slid the door open and stepped inside, throwing herself down into her seat with a groan.

                          “I hate this.” she mumbled, her face pressed to the cushion.

                          “You think after all these years you would get over this.”

                          Charlie turned to glare at the speaker, a boy standing in the doorway of her car, bag slung over his shoulder and a scowl on his lips.

                          “Though right now I’m rather glad you haven’t.” he added as he stepped into the car and slid the door closed behind him. He set his bag down on the bench opposite Charlie and sat down, legs and arms crossed.

                          “Oh, hey Vlad.” Charlie said, sitting up with a rather sheepish grin on her face. “How was your break?”

                          “Oh, splendid.” he said, words thick with sarcasm. “Weeks filled with sitting at home with my grandmother, not preparing myself for the honor and privilege of Slytherin house head boy.”

                          Charlie cringed. “You’re still mad about that?”

                          “Of course I’m still mad about it!” Vlad snapped. “And you’re lucky I’m even speaking with you. It’s your fault, after all, but I suppose that’s what I get for agreeing to help you with-”

                          “Quiet, Vlad!” Charlie shushed, glancing around their compartment as if someone might have heard him.

                          “I said I was sorry, didn’t I?” she added. Vlad merely glared at her, turning his attention out the window to the passing scenery.

                          He spent the rest of the ride sulking and making Charlie feel horrible, and Charlie spent the ride scuttling up and down wobbly isles to accommodate her motion sickness. It seemed to her it took much, much longer than any time before to reach the school, but at last they did, greeted by the same lamp-bearing groundskeeper that greeted them every year.

                          Vlad and Charlie waited a few minutes for most of the rowdy lower-year students to unload before gathering their things and exiting the train. Vlad lead the way with Charlie close behind, a heavy silence between them until Charlie got the nerve to move up beside him and grab his arm, pulling him to a stop.

                          “Look, Vlad,” she started, almost losing her nerve at the sight of the look on his face. “Look, I’m really, really, eternally sorry I got you in trouble. I know you wanted to be head boy, and I know it’s kinda my fault you didn’t get it -”

                          “All your fault.”

                          “- All my fault you didn’t get it. But you can’t stay mad at me forever - I mean, you could, but I wish you wouldn’t. Who will help me with my dark arts homework if you do?” She smiled up at him hopefully, pursing her lips and clasping her hands together, brown puppy-dog eyes shining.

                          “Please forgive me?”

                          Vlad thought it over, crossing his arms and looking down at her with a scowl. Why should he forgive her so easily? He had spent his entire Hogwarts career striving towards head boy and she had managed to destroy six years of his hard work in one ill-fated night. By all rights he should just tell her no and leave it at that, but, they had been friends for so long even despite being in separate houses, and she had helped him out more than she had hurt him. And those eyes . . .

                          “Fine.” he said, rolling his eyes and starting back down the path. “I forgive you.”

                          “Yes!” Charlie jumped into the air, pumping her fist victoriously.

                          “But,” he added quickly, silence her shouts of joy with a pointed glare. “You can consider yourself my personal slave when Christmas break rolls around.” Charlie put a hand to her head in salute.

                          “Yes, sir!”

                          As they reached the school the had to split up, Vlad going with a group of boys he knew from Slytherin and Charlie joining a few girls she knew from Ravenclaw as they entered the huge school and made their way into the Great Hall. It was a lot of work, wading through all the first years and other little children. Strange the great range of ages here as apposed to the high schools their muggle friends went to.

                          Charlie made it to her seat, settling down and ticking a lock of brown hair behind her ears as she skimmed over the faces at the Slytherin table, waving frantically when she found Vlad to get his attention. He looked up and smiled, throwing her a short wave before turning back to his other friends, chatting and catching up with one another as they waited for the new years sorting to be over with and dinner to start.


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anekochan's avatar

Wheezing Fatcat

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σηε child ραlε aηd fαir αs thε sησω
gεηtlε αηd sωεεt αs α lσvεr's first кiss



σηε child αs rεd αs thε brαmblεs bright rσsε
shαrρ αs α briαr,blσσd ση his liρs

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Wheezing Fatcat

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xxxxx Ȁs ωє ωαʟк αмσɴg тнєșє șhαძσωș, ιɴ тнєșє șтʀєєтș, тнιș ғιєʟძ σғ вαттʟє
xxxx Țαкє ιт υρ, ωє ωєαʀ тнє мєძαʟ, ʀαιșє ʏoυʀ нαnძș ωιтн вυʀɴιɴg cαɴძʟєș
xx Ήєαʀ υs ωнιșpєʀ ιɴ тнe ძαʀк, ιɴ тнє ʀαιɴ ʏoυ șєє тнє șραʀк
Ғєєʟ тнє вєαтιng σғ συʀ нєαʀтș, ғʟєєтιɴg нσρє αș ωє ძєραʀт


              He was surrounded by darkness. Was he cold? No. Was he lonely? No. Was he frightened? Absolutely.

              Hands, cold hands, reaching from nowhere, touching everywhere, smothering, choking. He tossed and twisted, trying to free himself from their grasp, but he couldn’t. Handfuls of pills, hundreds of injections, drugs born of the streets rushing through his veins, hypnotic ecstasy blurring his vision.

              Now he was running, silence shattered by the smack of bare feet against stone, breath puffing in ragged gasps. Were they gaining? He couldn’t tell. He could never tell. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, feel the sweat pouring down his body. Faster, he needed to go faster. What if they caught him? What if they found out? Suddenly, laughter, cruel laughter, and hands suddenly grabbing him and -

              Merrick’s eyes shot open, body rigid, fingers tangled in his sheet as he clung to his bed. Dream. It was just a dream. It took a moment before he could calm his panicked breathing and longer still before he could force his body to move, running one shaking hand through his sweaty black hair.

              [******** breathed, closing his eyes. The dreams came as no surprise to him anymore, they had plagued him since the first day he had lived on his own, torchering and taunting him about things he had done and things was afraid he might do. It was seldom that he ever got a peaceful night’s rest. He had tried to get used to them, to not get so worked up about them, but he couldn’t - a nightmare was a nightmare, and these in particular scared the ******** out of him.

              He sat up, pushing his sheets off of himself and swinging his legs over the side of his bed. Light streamed in from the cracked and dusty blinds that covered his windows, dappling the cluttered floor of his room with patterns of light and shadow. What time was it? He really needed to get a clock in here. He snatched his glasses off his bedside table, slipping them on and activating the built-in computer system that was, in fact, the only reason he wore them - his vision was perfect, so there was no medical need. Checking the time he found it wasn’t any later or earlier than he usually woke, the weather outside hot, as usual. He pushed his glasses up off his face and stood, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn.

              “s**t,”Merrick grumbled, sifting through the mess of discarded sheets around his bed for his pants. “I‘m tired as ********.”

              Locating his favorite - not to mention only - pair of pants he slipped them on, thinking as he always did that they were getting little tight and he needed to replace them. But shopping was always such a hassle, and he didn’t know what size of pants he wore, anyways. As long as they weren’t uncomfortable he would deal with them, and besides, they were broken in just perfect - why was it that pants are never really comfortable until they have to be thrown away?

              He absently shoved his feet into his old work boots as he slipped his computer back on and checked for messages. Nothing new, so he pushed them back off his face and left his room, scratching at a scar on his tanned chest as he strolled down the hall to the bathroom. After taking his morning piss he washed his hands and splashed his face with cold water, hoping the sudden chill would help wake him up.

              A frown settled on his lips as she glanced at himself in the mirror, glaring at his own handsome face. He hated it. Hated the striking blue eyes that drew so many looks, despite the haunted shadow that lurked in their cobalt depths. Hated the full, soft lips that so many wished to kiss the frown from. It seemed that face was the only thing people outside this house ever saw when they looked at him, and it was the first thing they judged, assuming that because he was younger than they that he could not possibly know anything about anything. Obviously since he was an attractive teenage boy all he thought about was sex and money. Is that all people ever thought about, ********? Was every person just another lay to everyone else they met? Merrick didn’t see the appeal, and maybe if people knew what he had done and been through in his nineteen years of life they would understand why.

              He left the bathroom and walked to the kitchen, slipping his computer back on to browse the system for jobs or perhaps any messages or updates from Alexei, one of the hunters that lived in the house who was currently out on a mission. Another yawn escaped his lips, followed by a groan as he twisted and popped his back. His stomach grumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten dinner before he went to sleep last night and that he was very hungry. Hmm, better fix that.

              A shifted his direction, taking the hall that would lead him to the kitchen, glancing around as he entered the room. It was empty as far as he could tell. Hm, odd, he usually wasn’t the first one up. Not that he minded the emptiness - silence was as good as noise, solitude was as good as company. He opened a cupboard and rooted around inside, leaning his weight on one hip as he searched for something to eat. This had become somewhat of a morning ritual for him, looking through the cupboards even though he knew he wasn’t going to find anything he wanted in them. After staring at the contents for a few moments and not finding anything, as usual, he shut the cupboard, pulling a chair out from the table and grabbing an orange. He started peeling as he plopped down into his seat and propped his feet up on the table.

              He was quiet as he ate, tearing off a chunk of peel and popping it in his mouth absently while still concentrating on his private computer screen. One could find any information they needed on the net, but you had to be careful - it was a simple task for someone handy with a computer to locate and track your activity there and follow it back to you. Merrick wasn’t as easy to find, though - his computer was home-made, functioning off of an off the charts domain that was virtually untraceable, all thanks to their technical manager, Guy, and his handiness with such things. It was a precaution he had to take in order to keep anyone from tracing his activity back to the safe house, and it had worked so far.

              Another chunk of orange peel disappeared into Merrick’s mouth as he slid his computer off his face, leaning back a little farther in his chair to get comfortable, absently wondering what he was going to eat after this orange was gone. Probably another orange, it was really hitting the spot today and he hadn’t even gotten to the actual fruit yet. As he tore it in half and began tearing off and stuffing sliced of it into his mouth he slid his computer back off of his face, another yawn stretching his lips as he settled a little more comfortably in his seat.


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Ȁʟʟ тσgeтнєʀ, ωαʟк αʟσɴє αgaιɴșт αʟʟ ωє'vє єvєʀ кɴoωɴ
xx Ȁʟʟ ωє'vє єvєʀ ʀєαʟʟʏ ωαɴтєძ ωαș α ρʟαcє тo cαʟʟ συʀ нσmє
xxxx Ƀυт ʏσυ тαкє αʟʟ ωe αʀє; тнє ιɴɴσcєɴcє σғ συʀ нєαʀтș
xxxxx Ӎαძє тσ кɴєєʟ вєғσʀє тнє αʟтєʀ αș ʏσυ тєαʀ υș αραʀт
anekochan's avatar

Wheezing Fatcat

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Ҫome to me, Little Lovely, sweet Wearer of Hoods,
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxȚhis Wolf’s tired ,and he’s hungry, so come into the woods.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxNever mind these sharp teeth and these large hungry eyes,
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxҒor you can’t tell if it’s these or my smile that lies . . .


      Ήey there, and welcome to my little search thread~ I’ll make things as sweet and to the pint as possible, alright?

      • I’m looking for a one on one role play to be done in a private thread. It must be literate, meaning I will post at least two paragraphs and so will my partner.
      • I don’t mind if you post in color as long as I can read it, and I don’t care if you male a format for your posts or not, either - I most likely will, but you certainly don’t have to.
      • I usually prefer pictures of real people, though not celebrities. If the role play fits it and you can convince me, though, I will use anime pictures as well.
      • As far as how long you’ve been role playing, how old you are, or what level of education you are at, I don’t give a rat’s a**, so don’t bother telling me.
      • I will provide you with samples of my writing so you can see if you like it and would like to role play with me, as well as to check if my post length is up to your standards, and I expect the same from you, please.
      • I may post during the week, but most likely I will be most active during the weekends, so don’t pester me if my posts are sporadic - I like to have an OOC thread to keep you informed of when I’m on long enough to post, hen I can’t because of time, or when I just don’t feel like it, and get the same type of information from you.

      Now, as far as what I want to role play, I have two things in mind. The first is the one I’m most interested in at the moment, the second is one that I find interesting and would like to do as well. I only want maybe one or two role plays at once, so as soon as I get something successful going for one I will eliminate it from this list.

      • The first is kind of inspired by Halloween time, what with all the spooky movies on TV and such. I want to play the Big Bad Wolf, along with a forest full of dark themed fairy tale-esque creatures who interacts with one or more normal humans. I don’t mind playing one or more of the humans, or if you want to play one or more of the woods creatures. For this, I think I would prefer Yaoi as far as romance goes, or Het., but I will be playing male and will need to screen your female for Mary-Sue-ness before I agree to Het., so keep that in mind. As far as plot, I don’t really have one, but all I really need to get started is some sort of opening get-er-going plot. We can think that up together, right? Right~

      • The second is one I was more in the mood for during the summer, but could be convinced to go for now. I will be playing a pair of boys - about 18-19 - who are camping at a place called Sand Lake. They have quads, a jeep, a big Chevy truck, and a couple of tents. I’d like you to play some other camper they meet up with, alright? I don’t care if it’s Yaoi or Het., but again, I want to make sure any female characters are not Mary-Sues before I agree to Het., so be prepared.

      Άnything else I’m not in the mood for, so don’t ask. Unless I get to play a princess - I’d listen to that idea. X3 To contact me, post here or send me a pm. Hope to hear from you!

      αηεkσchαη's sαɱρlεs
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Wheezing Fatcat

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            ωнαт α вєαυтιғυℓ ғαcє ι нαvє ғσυиם ιи тнιs ρℓαcє

        extra images, in links, if any

            αиם ι ωσи’т тєℓℓ иσ σиє чσυя иαмє

        Tiberius Lynn.

            ι нєαяם чσυ ғ•cк тняσυɢн тнє ωαℓℓ


            тιмє, тιмє, тιмє


            тнє םαч ι ℓєғт тнє ωσмв

        November Twelfth.

            sσ мαич sтσяιєs σғ ωнєяє ι’vє вєєи αиם нσω ι ɢσт тσ ωнєяє ι αм

        Tiberius grew up in hell.

        The first four years of his life are a jumbled haze of memory. Blood, tears, fear, all smashed together in a chaotic jumble that he dare not try and decipher. After that, things become more clear.

        He remembers living in a building with a herd of other little boys. He remembers men who would come and spend time with them, cruel men, men who did horrible things and did them with a smile. At night the boys would huddle together, shuddering and whimpering, nursing and comforting each other as best they could while the man who would feed them yelled at them. He told them their parents hated them, cared less about them than the men who paid to ******** them did. Told them they were all sold to him, that he owned them, that they were nothing but trash and garbage that he, out of the goodness of his heart, did not throw out.

        Tiberius believed him.

        His anger festered inside him, like a cancer, growing more poignant as each day passed. As he grew older he began to rebel, kicking, biting, scratching. He received only beatings in return, but the men began to come to him less. He started to like it, hurting these men, making them scared to take him, scared to even look at him. When he was ten, the owner beat him so badly for it he thought he might die, but he didn’t. Tiberius was strong. Tiberius was crafty. And, more importantly, the owner was stupid.

        The morning after the beating the owner returned to where he had left the boy to find a limp corpse, or so he thought. With little thought the man picked up the body and unceremoniously hucked it into the trash heap in the back alley. Tiberius crawled his way from the alley and halfway to the other side of town, nursed his own wounds, and made himself a shack that kept him safe for almost a year.

        You see, Tiberius was a smart, smart boy, and he listened when anyone spoke, soaking in what they said like a sponge, In his days of freedom he sifted through mountains of trash and stole books and wallets along with his food, filling his mind with every fact he could. He rigged his trash-hut with booby traps of the kind one might expect from a trained soldier, using trash and scraps of technology to make ingenious trip wires and explosives.

        When he neared the age of eleven, he made the mistake of trying to sneak into a government research facility. He was wounded and just barely managed to escape the guards and surpass the security system by using some sort of home-made trinket, much to the guards dismay. They followed him back with the intent to kill him, but ended up falling victim to his traps instead. Upon hearing news of this he was captured and taken back to the facility.

        This event changed his life.

        He met a man named Jaul Nawat, the man he would spend his entire life trying to please. He was raised the rest of his life as a loyal follower of the Head, trained and groomed to be a ready and willing tool for whatever task he or his “Father” Jaul might ask of him, ad he was happy to do it. The Head and his followers are Tiberius’s entire world; Woe to whomever tries to harm them.

            ι’m ωαч συт, ωαч συт

        Tiberius is the very meaning of the word “manipulative.” He'll be whatever kind of man is needed to get the job done; sweet, caring, smart, shy, you name it. His feels no emotion even close to love, save for the blind affection aimed at Jaul and the Head. He loves to see peoples lives ruined, loves to see them suffer. He can kill without a second though, sew the sweetest of lies without a shred of remorse, and tear down your world with a smile on his lips.

            ι’ℓℓ тєℓℓ чσυ sσмєтнιи’

        ● Jaul Nawat
        xxxxx•Like is too light a word for what he feels towards the man he considers his Father, though exactly why mystifies most.
        ● The Head
        xxxxx•he serves the Head loyally and never questions anything he says, does, or orders.
        ● Fear
        xxxxx•loves to see it on others faces, particularly if he caused it.
        ● The Pain of Others
        xxxxx•“You should scream more often; It suits you.”

        ● Rebels
        xxxxx•All must obey the Head. If you feel you are exempt from this, you are sorely mistaken, and he will show you why.
        ● Orders
        xxxxx•Unless you are Jaul or the Head, I wouldn’t tell him what to do.
        ● Happiness of others
        xxxxx•“ Your smile is sickening. Here, let me fix that for you . . .”

        ● Intelligence
        xxxxx•Tiberius is nothing short of a genius, though he exercises it only for his, Jaul’s, and the Heads benefit.
        ● Combat
        xxxxx•He very much likes to hurt you, so he has gone through a great deal of training in order to be able to do it well.

        ● Blind faith
        xxxxx•Jaul and the Head are the greatest men ever to live. Or are they?
        ● Obedience
        xxxxx•He is too loyal to Jaul and the Head to disobey their orders even a little, even if it results in him being harmed.
        ● Self Indulgence
        xxxxx•He sometimes takes too uch pleasure in what he does, and this could end up getting him caught, injured, or killed.

            ι’м ɢσιиɢ иσωнєяє

        All hail the Head, most mighty and just of all rulers.

            αиם ωнєи ι ℓσsє мчsєℓғ, ι тнιик σғ чσυ

        ● The Head
        xxxxx• He is eternally loyal to thismost greatest of men.
        ● Jaul Nawat
        xxxxx• Tiberius has a very strong Father-complex aimed at this man. he would do anything at all to see him pleased, even if it meant death.
        ● Annelise Nagasi
        xxxxx• He doesn't waste his time getting to know Agents or Trackers.
        ●Leila Tagapag-Alaga Garden
        xxxxx• He doesn't waste his time getting to know agents or trackers, even this one, despite that fact she is related to the Head.
        ● Everest Ri
        xxxxx• He doesn't waste his time getting to know Agents or Trackers.
        ● Roane Mariette St. Claire
        xxxxx• He hates the way this woman acts towards his Father, and he hates that Jaul might even think about paying more attention to her than he. Secretly he wishes he could kill her. He'll just have to bide his time . . .
        ● Bounty Hunters
        xxxxx• This filth needs to be scraped off the face of the Earth for daring challenge the Heads rule.
        ● Merrick Lynn
        xxxxx• The knowledge that Tiberius has a twin brother enrages him. It's a danger to how he works to have someone out there that looks like him, and secretly, he hates him for having grown up with their family while he suffered so.

            α sσиɢ sσмєσиє sιиɢs

            чσυ’яє тαкιиɢ σvєя мє

anekochan's avatar

Wheezing Fatcat

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I ωɑητ τσ șρɾεɑɗ τɦε ηεωș
xxxxxxxxxxxxȚɦɑτ ɩτ ғεεʟș ɠσσɗ, τɦɩș ɠεττiηg υșεɗ
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxȘσ ȷυșτ κεερ ση υșɩng ɱε
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx‘Țɩʟʟ ʏσυ υșε ɱε υρ


                                                Footsteps echoed down the hall as Tiberius made his way up to where he and the other agents lived. He had spent the entire day training, as he always did, honing his skills and making sure he was in top shape to serve the Head. He had been, of course, his readings and results showing he was still the top performer as far as Agents go. Good, he would have it no other way.

                                                As he entered the living area he passed by the kitchen, noting the two other agents were there and paying them no mind, not even affording them a nod or greeting of any sort. They were inferior to him, not worthy of serving the Head, in his opinion, and he so he ignored them for the most part. He made his way into his own room and shut the door, locking it securely behind him and flicking on the lights. His room was fairly empty, decorated only in what had been put here by whomever it was who had designed and built these quarters.

                                                The only hint of his occupancy was the clothing in his drawers and the framed picture on top of his dresser, which he picked up and gazed at now. It was of Jaul Nawat, the Head’s head scientist, and the object of Tiberius affections. He so wanted to please the man, so wanted his acceptance, that he was willing to do anything to get t. That is why he had become an agent in the first place, after all, Jaul had found him so many years ago, living in the streets like a savage. He had seen Tiberius’s potential, what he could be, and taken him in, turned him into what he was, and Tiberius was forever grateful to him for that. He had no family and thus had channeled all of his affections towards Jaul, his Father, and as he gazed at the picture now he felt the distinct urge to be at his side. But of course, he could not be, after all, Father was probably in his lab at this hour, working diligently at something, and probably did not wish to be disturbed.

                                                Tiberius set the picture frame back down and walked to his bathroom, his brow furrowed in thought as he stripped down to his bare skin in a quick, practiced manner and stepped into the shower, He turned the water on almost as hot as it would go and closed his eyes, letting the steaming water relax his muscles and wash away the sweat that had covered his body during his workout.

                                                After a few moments he took a washrag and covered it soap to further cleanse his body, his fingers running over the many scars that covered his tanned skin, muscles rippling under his smooth flesh. Imperfect, his body was imperfect. He should be stronger, should be faster. That’s what his father needed, that’s what he should be like. As he let the water rinse the sop from him his fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tight. No matter how strong or fast they said he was he knew he needed to be more so, and he was ashamed that he was not.

                                                After several minutes more standing in the shower he turned it off, quickly drying himself and walking back out into his room and sitting down on his bed. A glance at the clock told him it was a little after ten, well after dark. His body ached and his muscles were sore, his shoulders slouched and his back curved. He should rest, he knew, but he was hesitant. With sleep came nightmares, often waking him in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, terror squeezing his heart.

                                                He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment before getting up again and walking through his apartment, clicking all the lights off before returning to his room. It was pitch black, but he knew the place well enough to make it back to his room without incident. He slid under the sheets, relishing the cool feel of silk against his flesh as he closed his eyes and tried to force his body to relax.

                                                υșε ɱε υρ: Tiberius returns to the Agnets' living quarters after training, admires a photo of his Father, takes a shower, and then lays down to go to bed.


Șσ ȷυșτ κεερ ση υșɩng ɱε
‘Țɩʟʟ ʏσυ υșε ɱε υρ

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