Samples Thread [dnp]

[Kiyoui]

dяєαм

All that we see or seem is but a dяєαм within a dяєαм

Created June, 17th 2010

What is this?

This is a thread dedicated to hold some 'samples' of my role play posts. Some of these are formatted. Others are not. If a post is not formatted this is due to the role play being hosted in a PM where decorations were not required. I ask that you please refrain from posting within this thread and/or stealing any of the characters or ideas portrayed within the posts without permission.

My literacy level tends to match my role play partner. If the other writes comfortable at 400 words then I will average that as well. However if the role player averages 1,000 words than I match that. It depends mostly on the guidelines established at the beginning of the role play and heavily on the post given to me before hand.

[Kiyoui]

dяєαм

All that we see or seem is but a dяєαм within a dяєαм

Written in Early June

What is this?

This is a mid/beginning post within a Naruto themed one x one role play. In this role play my partner played a different version of Orochimaru which we took some creative liberties in creating. My roles varied. Sasuke was one character I played along with a few other canons we happened to need and any OC at my disposal. This particular post focuses on Sasuke however.

Word count: 613

“No.” Was the first word Sasuke had managed to say. Growling he slammed his fist down on Tsunade’s now vacated desk. Many profanities flickered through his mind but not one of them passed his lips. None of them did the situation justice. Not in Sasuke’s eyes.

He wanted to kill Orochimaru. No, killing would be too polite. He was going to maim, unman, and make that b*****d suffer. It was going to be a life filled with torture. Sasuke wanted Orochimaru’s screams to be his lullaby. A sweet, sweet lullaby.

However.

Sasuke also wanted to restore his clan. It had been his dream. It was why he had gained the power to kill Itachi was it not? If he killed this man…Sasuke’s eyes flickered to the snake, that vile, repulsive creature. Then he would be killing another line of the Uchiha. It would make him like Itachi. That point alone nearly drove Sasuke to the brink of madness. He would not be Itachi! Never.

However.

It was not just him anymore. An image of his daughter came to mind instantly. Did he want her anywhere near Orochimaru? Did he want her to even share a world with the vermin? When she came of age how would he explain to his daughter how he had allowed such a criminal to survive? Would she hate him? A pain of fear gripped his heart at thought.

Then there was Konoha.

Of course majority of Konoha would despise him. Sasuke didn’t care—many of them already did anyhow. However his daughter was riding on the good graces Sakura had managed to keep with the citizens. If another villain joined the Uchiha clan would they shun her? The idea hurt him.

His hatred filled eyes rested on Orochimaru again and he growled. What was he to do?! He wanted to kill Orochimaru…but he couldn’t. Sasuke knew this from the beginning. As conflicted as the situation was Sasuke had already known his answer from the beginning—that was the true reason he was so angry. Not because he was conflicted about a choice but because he loathed his decision. Orochimaru was going to live. “Tch.” He said glancing away. He couldn’t think what he needed to while looking at the man on the floor.

“If you’re really an Uchiha…” Sasuke said now glaring at Orochimaru. “You’re going to act like one. Live like one. And you are going to live under my law.” The words were final, harsh and bitten out.

“Rule number one.” Sasuke began. “You will not speak unless spoken to. In my household you will not lay a finger upon Sakura or my daughter. You will not speak to my daughter and you are never, ever permitted to be in the room with her alone. Ever.”

“Rule number two.” He said taking a deep breath, “You don’t leave the Uchiha household without me or my consent. No exceptions. I’ll behead you on the spot.” It looked like he would take great pleasure in doing so as well.

“Rule number three. You will continue the Uchiha legacy.” Sasuke wanted to add how he wasn’t sure how they were going to accomplish this. Who in Konoha wanted to be associated with Orochimaru? Not to mention date him, or hell, even love him. What girl in her right mind was going to bear his children? Pushing that aside for the moment he elaborated, “Yes. You will marry someone—and you will produce Uchiha heirs.”

Sasuke sighed heavily. The next words seemed difficult for him to say, “By following these rules I will let you live.” His eyes then glared at Orochimaru challengingly. “Do you accept?” How could he not?

[Kiyoui]

dяєαм

All that we see or seem is but a dяєαм within a dяєαм

Written in Early June

What is this?

This is a mid/beginning post within a Naruto themed one x one role play. In this role play my partner played a different version of Orochimaru which we took some creative liberties in creating. My roles varied. Sasuke was one character I played along with a few other canons we happened to need and any OC at my disposal. This particular post focuses on Hitaru (OC).

Word count: 1,318

As Hotaru sat across from Orochimaru she couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable. Her eyes flickered to Sasuke. Was he truly going to stay within the room, an ominous chaperon, throughout the entire interview? Hotaru felt her inner fire sparking up in a bristle of disagreement. It was insulting really. Did he think that she couldn't handle herself!? The thought that Sasuke truly didn’t think she was capable of self defense made her fingers twitch for a kunai knife. She would show him!

Hotaru was about to follow through on the irrational plan when her thoughts seemed to rush to catch up with her. The reasonable part of her mind shushed the bitter demon within. It wouldn’t do to try and kill Sasuke Uchiha. Hibiki would be quite displeased. After all, that would ruin his precious little plan of trying to be accepted by Konoha. Not that Hotaru particularly cared. She was just fine living without a country. This pride in Konoha baffled her. Why Hibiki was so adamant about her, and the others, finding their own patriotism here was beyond her understanding.

So far Hotaru had played along—she typically avoided conflict. She moved to Konoha without asking a single question and had agreed with the bat of an eyelash. It was just a new location really—nothing major. Then he had pressed on them about becoming acquainted with the locals. Make friends, he had stressed. Hotaru had agreed to be civil should anyone find any interest in speaking with her. Naruto was the first and the only one who seemed (annoyingly) adamant about getting to know her, and she didn’t particularly care for the blond haired nin. Though, through him she had met several other people. The only one whose presence didn’t make her bristle was Shikamaru.

As far as Hotaru thought she was behaving herself accordingly. She was civil to the locals, did local grocery shopping, spoke with Shikamaru often (something she supposed could be called a friendship), and did the missions the Hokage asked of her. Hibiki should have been content. Oh no. Then the invitation had come.
--

“You must attend!” Hibiki had informed her, already assuming that she wouldn’t question him. He smiled at her pleasantly, “This would be just the thing we need to root ourselves into this country.” He chuckled letting his thumb run over the parchment again. “We could become true citizens this way.” Hibiki then beamed at her as if she understood his need for Konoha and even shared in his elation.

Well, Hibiki had been in for quite a surprise. “No.” Hotaru had replied calmly, but her gaze was settled on his. It was firm.

Hibiki blinked in what was obvious surprise, “Hotaru?” She made no move to reply to him. He should have known she wouldn’t answer unless he actually asked a question. She hated being baited. “Hotaru, why would you not want to go?”

Her eyes narrowed at him. Was he truly insinuating that there was something wrong with her for not wishing to go? “I don’t want to be married.” She said simply. Though after the words were out of her mouth she felt somewhere inside herself clench painfully. It was a startling revelation to realize it wasn’t true. Yet she had never thought about it. A husband, love, a family with children? Hotaru had never had childish dreams such as those. It was always the mission, and run—always run. It never occurred to her that she may settle down one day, or even the notion that she would want to.

It seemed Hibiki had caught this gesture. She wasn’t surprised. He read her so well. With a melancholy smile Hibiki moved to sit on the edge of the bed across from her. The beds were all so close to one another in their small apartment that he was within reaching distance. “Don’t you understand?” He began quietly. “If we belong here, if were citizens then you can have things like this. They won’t come here for us—it could create a war and we certainly aren’t worth a war.” He chuckled resting his hand on her shoulder in fatherly way, “Hotaru I’ve raised you. I’ve never pretended to be your father but just this once I’m going to ask you to keep in mind that I’ve always been here.” He smiled gently at this, “You could fall in love here, get married and have a family. If we’re here you won’t have to run anymore.”

Hotaru glanced at him only half heartedly. Hibiki then raised the invitation up for her to take. “The Uchiha are respectable.” Respectable. Only respect those you can’t kill. It was the Himura way, the Himura morals. “They also have a beautiful blood limit.” He added on as if trying to entice her. “With their eyes and our blood properties your children would have nothing to worry for.” Oddly that was rather reassuring. Hibiki continued, “And Hotaru…they’re wealthy. Your family would want for nothing. You would never have to worry about running away under the Uchiha name.”

Hotaru sighed. “I’ll meet him. I’m not promising anything else.” She said giving Hibiki a sidelong glare.

He chose to ignore it and beamed triumphantly, “Don’t worry Hotaru. It won’t be terrible. You have certainly lived through worse things.”
--

Internally Hotaru sighed. It was true she had lived through worse things, but Hotaru would have chosen to do those again then suffer under this blatant scrutiny. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to behave. What was traditional courtship behavior? While she internally agonized over her lack of social skill it seemed Orochimaru had come to her rescue by asking her some simple questions. Well, she could do that.

Her eyes met his, she inwardly flinched. He was so expressive! Meanwhile she was much more reserved. This meeting was going to be the death of her. Hotaru only took a moment to see if he was finished speaking before answering him. “I’m from the Himura clan we have a…unique bloodline.” She phrased carefully. “Our skills reside in the manipulation and tampering of blood—however this manifests differently with every Himura child.” At first Hotaru thought about leaving it at that. She then thought better of it and continued, “For example I have blood synthesis.” She explained. Oh wonderful, what would that mean to him? Growing tired of words not doing justice she raised her hand to bite her thumb drawing blood. The action didn’t even cause her pain anymore, yet as the viscous red droplet formed she used her other hand to move. With it the small amount of blood danced in the air. As it coiled itself into her hand she used a spare napkin to clean her hand.

For the first time Hotaru wondered if her bloodlimit was something to be ashamed of. Not once had Hotaru ever disliked her ability—in fact she took great pride in it! However blood was messy, and normally negative connotations followed the liquid. Had she disgusted the man across from her? Deciding not to dwell on it she continued in answering his other questions. “Actually.” She said trying to give him a smile, it was small—an unaccustomed feature. “I have sort of lived outdoors all my life. I tend to spend more time there then inside. It’s a bit…too confining.” She worded carefully. What would Sasuke do if he thought she was insulting his home? “I swim, run, hunt…nothing too unordinary.” Or at least she didn’t think so. “However I haven’t really had the opportunity to curl up in front of any fireplaces to answer your second question.” She gave him a lop sided smile and realized that she sounded quite displaced from society as she spoke to him. “My cousin however plays the flute. I rather enjoy listening to him play when he does. So yes, I enjoy music.” She answered.

[Kiyoui]

dяєαм

All that we see or seem is but a dяєαм within a dяєαм

Written in Early June

What is this?

This is a mid/beginning post within a Naruto themed one x one role play. In this role play my partner played a different version of Orochimaru which we took some creative liberties in creating. My roles varied. Sasuke was one character I played along with a few other canons we happened to need and any OC at my disposal. This particular post focuses on Hitaru (OC).

Word count: 1,117

As Orochimaru continued Hotaru found herself becoming more and more uncomfortable. The main reason for this was his eyes. Damn. It took all the will power she had not to turn away from him. Yet, her discomfort wasn’t in the fact that he disgusted her—it was the emotions. Hotaru was a deeply reserved person; only revealing the barest of emotions when absolutely necessary. It had never been expected of Hotaru to be open and expressive. These things were meant to be private—at least that’s how Hotaru believed. It seemed Orochimaru held a similar view because he wasn’t exactly pleased with how expressive his eyes were. It was this reason, his own discomfort of sharing, that made Hotaru nervous. If he didn’t want to show her these things—these emotions of hatred and pain, then Hotaru felt it was wrong of her to see them. Glancing away would have been an act of respect on her end—what other person would see this though?

However her thoughts that were concerned for his privacy were suddenly snuffed out—rather harshly. Do not lie to me. It was a warning. A warning was a threat. Hotaru felt her blood boil at the challenge. Only respect those you can’t kill. Could she kill Orochimaru? Hotaru wasn’t a hundred percent certain (how could she be on one meeting?) but she was confident it would not be an easy fight for either side. Yet his tone indicated that he felt superior—in some way—if he could warn her of consequences he could inflict. Instead of challenging him on the spot, like her instincts screamed her to do—demand respect—she decided to explain herself to him. Besides, she couldn’t rule out the idea that it had been a misunderstanding on his end, though she highly doubted it.

With this resolution in mind Hotaru found her smoky eyes narrowing to match his own. She then leaned forward, one hand supporting herself on the table as she stared unafraid at the man. “Orochimaru.” She whispered clearly. “There is one thing you should know about me immediately before our conversation continues.” Her gaze was steady, unflinching. “I do not take kindly to threats. Even underlying ones.” She paused at this juncture, as if trying to demonstrate the weight of the words. “For my clan, Himura, that is one of the greatest insults you can inflict.” She pulled away from him, though her eyes held his the entire time, “To threaten me indicates you hold power above me.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously at her last sentence, “You do not have such a power to claim over me.” With this she seemed to wrap up her conclusion, “I don’t expect you to be familiar in the Himura ways—I don’t hold this against you and I have no intention of acting on it. Just keep in mind I despise repeating myself and almost never will.” In other words, don’t do it again.

Fear did not exist within the Himura blood. There is always something worse. That was the mantra. It could always be worse. Therefore the flickering ideas that Orochimaru may not particularly care for her opinion wasn’t something that caused her mind worry. If he attacked her, she would attack back—who knew who would win? Either way, if she lost then she lost and she didn’t deserve his respect. Yet what was respect when one was dead? This was Himura’s view, the only way to lose respect was to die by the hands of another—to lose power.

Life was a constant struggle of powers. When shopping did you set the price or the seller? In a relationship were you equal or on top? Certainly you weren’t submissive. When you had children did they surpass you? They shouldn’t have. You have more experience, more power—you should always win. Though, that being said your child should be the best, because you are the best and Himura’s only create better more powerful people. In training did your power continue to grow or was it halted? Or even worse, was it declining? When battling did you win? If you didn’t win you better have died. For to lose a battle and survive meant that you hadn’t tried your hardest—what a disgrace!

Hotaru picked up her own tea and sipped at it as her eyes scanned Orochimaru over. Her mind idly repeated his request for a number. What number would she give Orochimaru? To Hotaru it seemed like an odd requested. She almost wanted to make a face of confusion and slight bitterness at it had it not been for the hate in his eyes. Apparently looks mattered a great deal to Orochimaru. Internally she sighed, everyone cared about looks—even her. Looks were just different degrees of importance from person to person.

However Hotaru’s problem came from the fact that she didn’t know what to compare him too. A local boy she had seen in Konoha? Or perhaps her cousin, Ken’ichi. Ken’ichi always had girls fawning over him—in comparison to him Orochimaru wouldn’t rank highly—she doubted he would get the same reaction from the local girls. Yet she didn’t believe that he was asking her for society’s view—only hers. Well damn. How could she pick a number? Hotaru was much more interested in what your body could do, and accomplish then what it looked like.

Hotaru wondered how Orochimaru would act to such an answer. Though to evade his question was unacceptable. So she began to go through his features. Orochimaru was extremely pale. Well, then again so was she. In fact, paleness wasn’t a negative at all.

As Hotaru set her tea down she sighed openly—her only indication of irritation. “Four.” She said finally. The number didn’t seem like a sufficient answer to her. Though, Hotaru felt herself once again at a bit of loss of what to do. The only solution which came to her was to give a bit of justification or reasoning for her choice. “You don’t meet society standards.” She said simply, her voice composed. “You’re also not hideously disfigured from what I can see.” She half inquired an eyebrow raised. “If it is any consolation.” She began. As if the man’s feelings would be hurt by the low outcome. “I find little value in your physical appearance. What truly matters are actions—what Orochimaru are you capable of?” She asked with a slight smirk.

“As for your other inquiry…” Hotaru continued tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I cannot say I came here for you Orochimaru—how could I? I hardly know you.” She then paused to drink her tea, “I was persuaded.” She said gently, convinced sounded a bit harsh, “Hibiki insisted that no harm could come from the experience.” She then gave another smirk, it seemed she was rather accustomed to displaying them. “That and there was, as you have so eloquently put, much to gain.” At least Orochimaru and the Himura were in accord with how to approach opportunities.

[Kiyoui]

dяєαм

All that we see or seem is but a dяєαм within a dяєαм

Written on June 21st

What is this?

This is an intro post within a Harry Potter group role play. Elijah's character was involved in the dark arts, was extremely flirtatious, and also had a twin brother. He was known to take advantage of his own brother, and even rumored to have killed a family friend. Elijah's current goal is to join the death eaters...if only he could figure out how.

Word count: 1,033

the w i c k e d sℓyтнeяıи
you`ll find me l u r k i n g about here; Great Hall
you may catch me while i`m with; Nisha
you`ll find me probably thinking of a m e t a p h o r while; Eating an apple & flirting

❝H o n e s t l y, xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I t h i n k it`s kinda funny that you waste your breath t a l k i n g about me, xxxxxxxxxxx
Got me feeling k i n d a special really.❞

Mornings were atrocious. That was the only thought Elijah could coherently put together as he let the icy water run through his hair. Most of the other students would have had high pitched screams of protest if their water had been cold. Yet Elijah couldn’t fathom this. He had always enjoyed cold showers, it just felt more refreshing. It was sort of like choosing mint gum over berry.

Perhaps mornings were not Elijah’s favorite time of day but that was because he was hardly awake, staying up too late with his practices, and then being forced to be with many other students in a small confined space. He detested hearing their dribble stories, or even worse their recounts of Harry Potter. Yes Elijah was rather sick of hearing about Harry Potter.

It wasn’t until Elijah was adjusting his tie that he actually woke up, no longer just going through the morning motions. So far his mood had been rather placated, there had been no morning incidents thus far such as younger students chattering noisily about an exam or a girl sobbing over a recent break up. A slight smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he grabbed his robes. Elijah loved his robes, they were sophisticated, and if he had any say in it he looked quite good in them. The only thing he didn’t like about robes was the fact that girls had to wear them too—wouldn’t it be great if girls didn’t have a dress code? It would make admiring them so much easier. With that thought Elijah took his wand and a few other necessities for the day.

As he entered the common room there were a few small groups of younger years studying about near the windows looking out into the lake. Elijah’s smirk slipped into a charming smile as he spotted one girl sitting alone. She was pretty, and to have made it into the slytherin house silently confirmed she was worth his time. As he approached her his eyes noticed that the book she was reading contained spells. He paused behind her chair nonchalantly and leaned over her shoulder, his tall height making this an easy thing to do. “If you ever need help with that…” He said smoothly, “I would be happy to assist you.” With that he left her, a small chuckle on his lips as the other groups of students seemed to suddenly burst into gossip over his attention. Well at least they weren’t talking about Harry Potter now.

As Elijah made his way through the corridors he caught a glimpse of Joel. He was heading to the Ravenclaw dormitories. By the look of his clothes and disheveled hair Elijah realized his twin had once again been out in the forbidden forest. He shook his head mildly amused, that sensitive brother of his was probably going to die out there. Well at least he had taught Joel the patronum. That buffalo, Elijah couldn’t help laugh at the animal, would surely take care of him. Joel after all was rather naturally good with spells. This annoyed Elijah but due to his intense practices he could still say he was better than his brother (at least in the dark arts department).

Elijah’s attention was then redirected rather abruptly. There was a noisy group of first years heading into the Great Hall to eat. This normally wouldn’t have caught his interest, annoying little vixen really, but the girl that shoved them aside made him smirk. Nisha, a fellow slytherin, was absolutely breathtaking in appearance. Her sharp attitude was also oddly appealing. In Elijah’s opinion it was much like playing with fireworks. They could be explosive and if not handled properly that explosion would end up in your face. However if you know what you’re doing you could be in for quite a spectacular show.

Bemusedly he followed in Nisha’s wake, the first year’s protests and bitter comments surrounding him. He turned his head to look back at them, “If you’re really upset we could have a duel.” That sobered them up rather quickly. Elijah was not known to pick on students he much preferred to just have romantic company. However during duels he was known to be ruthless and rather precise. Elijah was not the upper classmen that would let you have the first strike, or would use a spell that wouldn’t do as much damage. No, he certainly didn’t go easy—on anyone.

Leaving them in silence he chuckled good naturedly and approached the table, seeing it still rather vacant. There were few of interest at the table it seemed he had gotten here rather early—perfect in his opinion. Elijah liked to beat the rush. After searching for her location he chose to sit beside Nisha. Reaching for an apple he inspected it before he spoke to her, “Fifth year, ugh O.W.L.s, my apologies.” Finding the apple in good taste he took a bite and swallowed. “I hear you’re quite the duelist.” Elijah wasn’t lying, not really. Sure no one had ever called her a good dueler it was more like complaints of what she had done to them during duels. To Elijah it was the same thing. “I doubt someone like you needs it.” He began casting a look at her from the corner of his eye, “But I would be more than happy to give you some extra practice.” He chuckled, “You never know. It could be fun.” Elijah then took another bite from his apple.

That was one of the tricks for people like Nisha. Compliments were good, but wouldn’t get you far—after all girls like her already thought they were perfect. Another trick was to never give them you’re undivided attention unless they were speaking. If you gave them too much attention then you were suddenly uninteresting and just another ‘loyal’ puppy to beckon. Yet if he were to say, eat the apple while waiting for a response, then it became clear she was not the center of his world. If he was lucky she would try and right the situation. It was a careful act, and sometimes it didn’t work. Fireworks were so finicky these days.

[Kiyoui]

dяєαм

All that we see or seem is but a dяєαм within a dяєαм

Written on June 23rd

What is this?

This is an intro post within a Harry Potter group role play. Joel's character is extremely introverted and someone whose biggest dream is to be a magizoologist. He is rumored to sneak into the Forbidden Forest often and he can see Thestrals...though he won't tell who died to accomplish this.

Word count: 1,249

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the kind-hearted r a v e n c l a w
l o c a t i o n: Great Hall
c o m p a n y: no one yet
c u r r e n t l y: reminiscing

Joel wasn’t a night owl, but he wasn’t truly a morning person either. Yet if asked to choose between the two he would politely ask them to define when morning started and that then he could give a proper answer. For Joel the true answer was neither—most of his life was lived in the twilight hours between night and day.

It was still dark as Joel heard the quiet crushing of grass beneath his feet, and felt the wind die down as it became blocked by trees, only for it to moan and rustle leaves. Trickles of moonlight reached the ground casting the forest in an eerie glow. The fall chill was rather startling behind the tree line and Joel adjusted his bag to pull his robes more securely around him. Many of the other students would have been terrified to have gone this far—in fact most of the Hogwarts students didn’t venture to edge of the tree line. Then again it was called the Forbidden Forest for a reason. To Joel such a name was silly. Living around dragons made any fear he might have had of magical creatures disappear.

Having no fear however didn’t make Joel clueless. He had not and would not walk into the forbidden forest unarmed and without bearing gifts. To enter a home something had to be given in exchange for your stay. It was only polite. Not to mention when he brought the right gifts he became much easier to find his company—as they would come to him.

This was proven as Joel was suddenly nudged in the shoulder a small whinny was the only greeting he got before the large beast tried to stick its head within the bag for the treats. Joel chuckled quietly, to cover up the nerves that had skyrocketed when the beast had taken him by surprise. “Just a moment.” He chided pulling away to get access into the bag. Reaching in Joel uncovered one of the few brown wrapped packages he had. Then with a light toss he watched the black winged horse eat the raw meat eagerly. As he unwrapped the second package the horse was nearer, close enough to touch. This time it took the meat right from his hand and seemed content enough not to move.

A small smile graced Joel's lips at his own accomplishment. Tentatively he let his hand rest on the neck. The horse moved nudging Joel’s now exposed hand with his nose. This time Joel smiled a bit sadder as his hand lightly pat the beast’s nose. Joel's eyes trailed into the black orbs that stared back at him.
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Joel found himself in quite a different forest. The trees were different—thinner and sparser. They were also barer. The floor littered with brown, red, and yellow leaves; not to mention brown pine needles. Here the sun was only just starting to set, blazing the sky in a fury protest of orange and gold. His attention was directed away from the scenery when there was a tug on his hand.

“What are you doing?” She giggled. “I told you I wanted to show you something!” The blonde haired girl was rather impatient to move as she tugged at his hand again but her smile showed she wasn’t angry only bemused.

Joel's surprised look softened into amusement. “Alright, alright.” He caved and allowed himself to be pulled by the green-eyed girl.

“You’re going to love it Joel!” She chirped. “They’re amazing! I have to say they are absolutely my favorite creature ever!”

Idly Joel chuckled, it wasn’t normal for Clara to be so chatty—clearly whatever she was talking about had caused her great excitement. Joel had no idea what though they had explored these woods hundreds of times over already. They had to have found every creature lurking in there by now.

Finally after anxious pulling Clara stopped in a midsized clearing. A wide smile was stretched across her face as the dying sun bled red and seceded to the night. “Clara…” Joel began as they stood in silence for a good ten minutes.

“Shh…” Clara admonished. “They’ll come. Just wait.” Placated Joel resumed his silence and then moved to sit cross legged. Clara soon joined him. Joel didn’t know how long they sat there under the starlight and bare trees but he didn’t much care. Joel was suddenly startled when Clara’s small hand grabbed his upper arm and shook him slightly, she seemed rather excited. “Aren’t they amazing?!” She whispered.

Becoming much more alert Joel glanced about them. It may have been night but it was a full moon and the trees were bare so there was plenty of light to see—well whatever it was he was supposed to see. After looking all about him he gave Anya a perplexed look. Was she joking with him? That would be strange, they had never been much pranksters. “What are?” He finally whispered.

This time Clara looked at him skeptical, “Do you need your eyes checked Joel?” She asked.

“No.” Joel said defensively as his eyes scanned the clearing again. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”

“Them!” Clara said anxiously waving her hand frantically in the air at nothing. Joel raised an eyebrow. Clara seemed irritated, “The big black horses with wings? It’s not like they’re easy to miss.”

“Clara, I’m afraid they aren’t here.” Joel put delicately.

“They’re right here!”

“Clara…”
xxx
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Joel sighed heavily. How ignorant he had been back then. Of course he couldn’t see the thestrals like she could. He wished that he could have back then, or at least still not see them now. He gave the animal a sad smile and cast his eyes up to the sky. “It’s rather early. Breakfast will start soon and I need to change out of these clothes.” As if in response the thestral nodded its head. Joel chuckled, “Goodbye.” He said absentmindedly before heading back the way he had come a few hours prior.

When Joel reached the door he looked back to Victor running towards the castle—out of the forest. Curious but choosing to avoid an awkward conversation, such as what Victor had eaten (yes Joel knew werewolves ate…he couldn’t blame them for eating) he slipped in and took quick strides to his dorm.

After a fast shower and once into a new pair of clothes Joel grabbed his items and headed down to the Great Hall. When he entered some of the first years were behaving strangely. These first years—it was difficult to know when they were under spells or just being strange. Not interested enough to find out Joel walked past them and towards the Ravenclaw table, his eyes catching a sight of Elijah as he passed. Early morning and Elijah was already surrounded by girls.

Pouring himself some tea and reaching for some meat Joel wondered where the few he knew were. Anya should be here, though she would probably be absorbed in that book of hers. Jeremy however…where was Jeremy? Probably close by Evelyn, which in turn would make Anya sad. Joel sighed. Where was Mer…ah. Mer was coming to the table, oh, well there was Evelyn and no Jeremy in sight. Perhaps Anya could stay in a quiet mood anyway? Hoping for this outcome Joel redirected his thoughts as sausage hit his tongue. As he ate he let himself drift back into old memories, best left forgotten.




❝The stars, the m o o n, they have all been blown out.xxxxxxxxx
You left m e in the d a r k, no dawn, no day, I`m always xxxx
in this t w i l i g h t, in the s h a d o w of your h e a r t.❞

[Kiyoui]

dяєαм

All that we see or seem is but a dяєαм within a dяєαм

Written on December 9th

What is this?

This is a post from a one on one Harry Potter role play. The following character is perhaps one of my favorites. She is intelligent, yet extremely easy going--almost to the point of appearing naive. She seems quite content to think aloud, as evidenced in this post. In this particular role play she is dating Anthony (Tony). They are currently at Bill and Fleur's wedding.

Word count: 797

» Aиyα Cαρяιcє Oяℓσvxxxxxxxxxxxxx

d i v i n a t o r y xx r a v e n c l a wxx

s c e n e r y: weddingxxxc o m p a n i o n: Tonyxxxa c t i o n: dancing


Anya was excited. Her eyes glowed, her cheeks were flushed pink, and she smiled brightly as she spoke to Fleur Delacour. Fleur looked gorgeous in her wedding gown. It was much prettier than the one Anya had originally drawn from her dream. It was strange how she could get certain details wrong, such as the cut of the dress. Things like this however didn’t matter. Not today anyway. They were at a wedding! A happy, joyous occasion…something Anya wasn’t sure they would see again after Dumbledore’s death.

Yes, Anya was happy, in fact she was delighted. Tony then happened to take her hand and Anya unconsciously laced their fingers together. She remembered when such an action had used to make her blush, now it seemed natural—like breathing. He excused them, finally dragging her away from her and Fleur's conversation about decorations.

As Tony led her away Anya cast her eyes up at the soft lights about the tent. It was perfectly easy to see, “They cast just the right amount of shadows.” Anya hummed to herself smiling at the delicacy of it all. It was all rather simple, nothing overly extravagant, but it was gorgeous—simply breathtaking. “All we need is some fireflies.” She mused imagining the twinkling of the tiny insects.

Anya had never been to many weddings. She also hadn't been the type of girl to riffle through magazines and pick out wedding dresses. Anya was the type of girl simply content waiting for things to happen as they may, taking life from one breeze to another, much like a daffodil after being wished upon.

Under this setting however she couldn’t help feeling romantic with Tony’s hand warmly clasped in hers. She idly wondered if they would ever have a wedding. Of course that was ridiculous. They had only been dating for a couple of years. Besides Tony wouldn’t stay with her forever—would he? His family certainly didn’t think so, not that they had wanted her to know this. Anya couldn’t help being observant. Her own Mum didn’t even believe in marriage—just love. Oh, and of course a war was coming. There was always that to consider.

Anya had almost forgotten about this until they approached Joel. Her smile fell briefly at the pile of drinks he had acquired. Was Joel incapable of enjoying himself? It seemed ever since plans had been made to bring Addison along he was inconsolable. He wished he wouldn’t behave so—it probably hurt poor Addison’s feelings. Well at least Anya would be happy to have the girl for company. Her smile returned as Tony took the time to help her with her chair. Always the gentleman!

The brother’s had a brief spat and Joel seemed much more occupied with looking at her instead of Tony when speaking to him. She was going to inquire if he needed something of her but Tony was already standing again, offering her his hand to dance in a way that made her flush but smile all the more.

Again Anya felt her hand enclosing in his and he led her to the dance floor. She hadn’t thought much of it. Her feet had only followed him on their own volition. Yet as they began to sway, steps so practiced they required little thought form her, she realized it wouldn't have mattered where he led her, she would have followed. Of course, that was why she had agreed to help him wasn’t it? To be chased after death eaters until Harry Potter could defeat the Dark Lord or they themselves be killed? Was this just foolishness or love? More importantly, was there a distinction?

Giggling Anya twirled, gracefully finding her way back intimately to Tony. Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him through long lashes, ginger hair falling into her face. As she found herself pressed against him she couldn’t help but ask, “Are you happy?” It was a whisper, meant for intimate lovers. She hoped her inquiry wouldn’t ruin the mood, but she always felt compelled to ask him things. As if she couldn’t ever stop learning about him.

Before he could answer she was twirling away again. There was distance between them, the only connection being their clasped hands. It was a pause in time before she would curl back but she mentally captured the pictured. How handsome he looked in his suit, the way the soft light made perfect shadows in his eyes. She knew it wouldn’t last, but the memory always would. The moment unfroze, her steps were twirling and the stillness was gone. But she knew now she would never forget this night beneath the tent at her best friend’s wedding. She would however forget if there had or had not been fireflies there.



t h i sxxi sxxaxxg i f txxi txxc o m e sxxw i t hxxaxxp r i c e
xxwho is the ℓαмв and who is the киιfєxx
m i d a sxxi sxxk i n gxxa n dxxh exxh o l d sxxm exxs oxxt i g h txx
xxand turns me to gσℓd in the suиℓιgнтxx

[Kiyoui]

dяєαм

All that we see or seem is but a dяєαм within a dяєαм

Written on July 26th

What is this?

This is a post from a one on one Harry Potter role play. It was a rather unique concept of penpals (hence the strange format). Sadly, this role play didn't get very far--I guess we were both just too busy, but I rather liked this character and his post so I thought I'd add it here.

Word count: 798

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxℒιαм ℋαydєи ℋαℓℓ

⇝xWritten on whatever he can findx

because you just never know when inspiration will strike.x

dєαя yσu,

It’s a pleasure to meet you Avery. My name is Liam Hayden Hall, but you already knew that didn’t you? Anyways, I wanted to say that I was delighted to receive your letter and even more pleased at the enthusiasm you displayed in having a pen pal. You see, I have always been an avid letter writer. Hogwarts is rather far away from home, and I’m pretty close with my Mum and Pa, so we write often. My home is also pretty far from most of my school friends, so I guess you could say I’ve always been rather good at long distance relationships.

You said you began here at Hogwarts? While I know such things probably seem irrelevant now, I would very much like to know the house you were sorted into. I’m a Hufflepuff. Now before you laugh, because most everyone does, I want you to know I’m quite proud of my house—no matter what anyone says about it. There are quite a few good blokes in it, and if I have any say I’m gonna change what people say about it. You see I play quidditch, I’m a chaser (are you interested in quidditch?), and I plan on helping us win house cup! I actually have a game next week. Wish me luck, eh?

So you said you’re a fifth year? What rotten luck. O.W.L.s are not a walk in the park—don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I made the mistake of listening to my blockhead of a friend in Ravenclaw. Should’ve known better, of course they would be easy for a guy like him. I did manage to scrap by though—at least in the subjects that mattered, heh. I myself am a sixth year. I’m taking Apparition, and if I do say so I’m quite good at it. I’m just interested in things that can travel through space. You know? I mean there’s nothing better than your first broom ride. I took to my broom like a fish does to water—heights never bothered me, must’ve been all those trees I climbed as a child. Also that charms spell, Accio. I mean there’s just nothing cooler than that.

>>At this point Liam hesitated as his quill ran out of ink. “Accio ink!” Liam murmured to the bottle only a bit farther down the desk, hardly out of arms reach.

“Really?” His roommate asked. “You couldn’t have just reached for the bloody thing?”

“Where would the fun be in that?” Liam asked with a smirk.

“Who are you writin’ a letter to now anyways, Hall?”

“Avery.”

“Who is Avery?” His roommate suddenly seemed much more interested in the letter.

“She’s my new pen pal. She attends Avalon.”

“Oi.” His roommate seemed displeased to hear this, “Really now? Not good enough for Hogwarts standards they had to ship her off there? If you asked me you shouldn’t be wasting your time in writing the bloody letter. I doubt she can read it anyways.”

Liam sighed and replied curtly, “I didn’t ask you.”<<

I’m sorry, I can be a bit of a rambler. So if I start to bore you, you can always skim the letter, a luxury you don’t really have in person, haha. I guess I should explain the box that came with the letter now, eh? If you haven’t opened it yet you’ll see they are chocolates. My mum owns a chocolate shop and I’m always showing off her newest stuff. These are raspberry filled. I know they don’t come with complex flavors like these crazy wizard jelly beans, but I still think they’re filled with magic. You see my mum is a muggle, but I’m trying to open up her clientele.

>> Liam hesitated again, not because he was out of ink but because he was suddenly angry. It was true he was trying to open up his mother’s clientele to the wizarding world. So what if the chocolate was made by a muggle? It still tasted like magic to him. It was difficult to get others to see this though, especially with the growing hatred to those not of pureblood status. Liam looked down at his letter and thought about writing down his feelings and shook his head. That was probably too much for a first letter. So instead he reinked his quill and continued, with a lie.<<

So far so good! ; )

By the by, Peeke was alright. Though I may have to invest in some more band aides, haha I’m joking with you. He isn’t so bad. I hope mine, Calliope, didn’t frighten you. She is the biggest breed of owl around (how else do you think my mum could send me chocolate?), so I understand her size is a bit intimidating but don’t worry—she’s a sweetheart.

[Kiyoui]

dяєαм

All that we see or seem is but a dяєαм within a dяєαм

Written on November 28th

What is this?

These are two links to role plays I am in. I was going to pull a sample from each, but I really liked all the posts. They also show posts as intros and after so you can get a feel for my style.

Word count: 900-2000

тнє нuитєd ✲ тнє нαuитєd
✲

Ꮭ♡ᏤᏋ the way ⓨⓞⓤ тαsтє
✲

[Kiyoui]

dяєαм

All that we see or seem is but a dяєαм within a dяєαм

Written on October 2nd 2012

What is this?

This is a small post from a "slice of life" role play. I really love this character. He's got that "perfect boy" charisma. Only it didn't come to him naturally...he practiced it. He loves his image and everything is based on it. He even has this huge secret that he accidentally knocked a girl up back in the day. She's sending him photos as blackmail. Not sure if I feel bad for him haha.

Word count: 468

❥ rylie damien hoyle
in the kitchen with james!

❝ LOVE THE WAY YOU LIE:


Riley likes the stairs to his home. They remind him of the drills they do for football when the team has to do “bleachers”. The stands quake and the sound of their feet pounding makes him feel like he’s a part of something grand. These stairs have the same effect because the willowy hallway makes his own feet echo louder than they should and he gets that grandeur feeling even though he’s all alone.

At the top of the stairs he runs his hand through his hair and chuckles when his fingers brush over the small pony tail. Riley had always kept his hair longer, but for initiation to the college team he isn’t allowed to cut his hair and now its length seems untamable most days.

The grin is still on his face when he opens the door and slings a few of the grocery bags over his shoulder. A gruff voice calls hello from the kitchen and Riley’s genuine grin of mirth is replaced by his easy going, charismatic smile—the one he’s practiced. “Hey there!” He calls back kicking off his shoes. It’s his poor attempt to salvage the carpet they’ll no doubt have to pay to have replaced at the end of their stay.

“How’s your day going?” Riley asks entering the kitchen and depositing the bags on the table. His eyes flicker to the older man and he unconsciously stands a bit straighter, not that his posture was ever bad to begin with, but Riley feels like to get along with James he has to be the perfect image of respect and maturity.

Those are just a few of the things Riley has picked up on from his new roommate. They’re an interesting crowd, the men cast into the dorm to be his roommates. They’re all a bit cagey and not one of them is similar. He’s been studying them when he gets the chance, it’s usually in passing. Riley leaves his bedroom door open when he’s home so that the guys feel welcome to say hello or come in—they usually don’t. Yet the open door helps him see the way they walk down the hall. He can analyze their gate and the facial expressions they wear when they think others won’t notice them.

Despite all his tricks he has learned only basic things about his roommates. Riley tries to conjure his mental checklist for James as he sorts out the new groceries. “I admit…” Riley says with a casual tone, “I may have over done it with the chicken.” The table has three whole chickens. They are a great source of protein and it was the only food that met his football diet he thought the others might enjoy eating too. “Maybe we should invest in some shake and bake flavors?”