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 Posted: Mon Jan 27, 2014 2:18 pm
Red's Name: Gavin Wright
Red's Player: ChezaRain
Red's Personality: Gavin is sexy and he knows it, despite whatever trash Zach might say about him. However, he's got the mouth of a trucker, and he will say what he pleases at a moment's notice. He has a bit more sense than Zach [or so he says] and knows when NOT to say something stupid, but it's a little hard to do when he spends so much of his time around "that bitchtit bad influence" Zach. Regardless, he loves Zach to death, in a brotherly way of course. HELL NO would he want to even think about a sexual encounter with that "ragged piece of diseased a**".
Blue's Name: Zachary Davis
Blue's Player: Fea Line
Blue's Personality: Zach is rough, tough, bad, mad and dangerous to know. He's a punk with a severe lack of respect for anyone unless they earn it, and earning it is no walk in the park. He cocky and will let you know about it, especially if it makes you feel significantly lesser than him. He can be a very aggressive guy but he also has a fierce loyal protection for those he deems worthy. However, his way of showing affection is equally as aggressive and if one didn't know any better, you'd think he hated everyone.
Prompt #1, 2 or 3: [[ It's kinda like... 1 AND 2, and you'll see why. Also, sorry about the color! I wanted to differentiate. |D ]]
The officer behind the desk sighed, dropping the papers on the desk in front of him as he ran a hand over his fine 'stache. He was looking at a 6-car pile-up, 14 injuries and 6 people still in the hospital with concussions, all because of the two morons sitting just across from him.
He gave them a quick glance over; nothing really new to him.
The red guy seemed to be chewing his nails, death glares flung in blue's direction, while Blue just seemed to be perfectly at ease.
The officer cleared his throat, and two set of eyes darted to him.
"Alright, so let's get the story straight. What happened?"
Red straightened up in his chair, giving a sideways glance to the Blue before opening his mouth.
"Well, it all started when I was looking for a room to rent-"
"The ********?! How the hell you gonna blame renting a room for-"
"You have to interrupt every goddamned time I have a bloody thing to-"
"My damn room is not the prob-"
"ENOUGH!"
This was what happened the last twenty times he'd asked the same question, and it was getting on his last nerve. Coughing rather suddenly, he covered his mouth with a handkerchief and looked down at the papers again. Their testimonies of what had happened.
"I'm just gonna read what's here, you tell me if I need to make changes, alright?!"
With a reluctant nod from Red and a shrug from Blue, the officer sighed and began reading off the very neat handwriting:
Two days ago, Zachary Davis listed his room in the paper as he sought out a new roommate. His previous roommate had taken it upon himself to leave without pre-warning, leaving Zachary short on rent and he needed someone quick...
"Bullshit! I had my rent, okay, I just.. it was boring without someone to play Call of Duty with-"
"You, playing Call of Duty? Now that's the bullshit-"
The vein above the officer's eye twitched, but he kept reading:
..to help pay. One of these applicants was Gavin Wright, who had yet to find a place after moving back from one year overseas...
"Yeah, talkin' like a damn tea-drinkin' crumpet."
"You're a racist b*****d, Zach."
...and had a fixed budget. Within a few days they had come up with a compromise...
"It was really hard to deny sex for payment, but I needed-"
"As if I would offer anything to you except soap and a damn wash rag, skanky piece of sh-"
"You ******** this point, the guys were swinging at each other, and the officer leaped up and ran to the door, "I need backup in here!"
The nearest officers came to the room, but upon sight quickly shook their heads and retreated, one of them even murmuring, "Oh jesus, not Zach again."
The officer, frustrated, turned around to give a good shout, only to see the guys were back in their chairs and laughing.
Actually LAUGHING.
"Did you see his face? I swore he turned as purple as a damn grape!"
"Where the hell is a camera when ya need one? That was utterly fantastic!"
His jaw dropped, and he, in a nervous gesture, wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
"What the-? Who stopped-?"
Both boys stood up and Zach shoved the officer to the side, who was still stunned into silence, before he started heading down the hall to the front doors.
Gavin hung back, looking the poor officer in the face and smiling as he patted him firmly on the shoulder, "We don't have anything to do with this case. We just always have to ******** with the newbies..." He stuck out his tongue and offered a wink, which quickly turned sour.
"Yo, whorebiscuit, I thought I said no hittin' on the entertainment?! What the ******** can't even go into a building for ten minutes-"
"Shut the ******** up I don't always hit on people-"
The sounds of their shouting echoed around the hall until they left out the front door.
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Posted: Mon Jan 27, 2014 9:33 pm
Red's Name: Kiiwidi Kivi Kalidi
Red's Player: bullterrierlove
Red's Personality: Kivi’s the name, and romancing is his game. Kiwidi, otherwise known as Kiwi by a select few, thinks of himself as a suave man. Someone who can twist women around his finger and make any proper lady lust after him. So much so, that he constantly tries to pick up women at bars, using his slick tongue and smooth words to woo his lovers.
The noodle has gone as far as to learn the “language of love”---Italian. However, when he uses it in his seduction, he makes up phrases and bullshits the grammar constantly. A native speaker would probably cringe at the confident, but horrific way he abuses the words and beautiful speech. Thankfully, he hadn’t met a person who possessed such knowledge about the language.
But, underneath all that suave confidence and cocky nature, he tends to be quite inept at keeping his mouth shut. The gang that he’s apart of hates him for it too, and therefore they don’t tell him much. He’s like one of those villains in comic books who reveal their dastardly plan to their foes before it takes place. And most oftentimes it bites him in the a**. Hard. Yet he still can’t believe that it’s his fault when plans don’t work out.
Blue's Name: Melvin "Diesel" Heights
Blue's Player: Lollipop x L u x u r y
Blue's Personality: Diesel isn’t one to be messed with. Extremely hot-headed, this British mobster is always ready for a hearty tussle; especially at the mention of his birth name, Melvin, or as a certain arsehole deems him, Melon. Along with being quick to start a fight, he’s also rather loud, becoming very vocal as to what his opinions on so-and-such just was. He’s terribly obstinate, refusing to back down on even the lightest things and, like clockwork, is willing to throw around a few fist to keep to his beliefs. His pride has also gotten him into a lot of trouble time and time again; if feeling slightly patronized, he tends to strike back, physically and violently. But most of all, he’s loyal.
As a testimony to his loyalty, under the request of his gang’s boss, Diesel made himself out to look like a backstabbing traitor to his ‘brothers’ and even his best friend, Kivi. After making his act even more believable and leaving his friend nearly dying, he made quick work of infiltrating a rival gang. Of course, due to this major betrayal, guilt sings deeply within Diesel, along with the constant assurance that it was all for the gang in the end.
Prompt #2 :
It wasn’t unusual to see Kalidi in a bar. But what was strange, was seeing him in proximity to Melvin. However; there they were. In the same room, practically breathing the same air.
Kivi thought that it was disgusting.
The brunette eyed his ex-friend and cohort snidely, and took one last swig of pale ale from his pint. He was with another woman. And that sent a surge of anger right into the pit of his already warmed stomach. If there was one person who was going to awe the beautiful, it would be him. Kivi. Not some ginger who caused more trouble than good.
It just wouldn’t do. He couldn’t let him have the girl and tarnish her heart. So, he strode up to the bartender, elbowed the freckled man out of the way roughly, and made a come hither motion towards the barkeep with a smirk. “’Ey, bahtendah.,” he called out, Brooklyn accent slipping through. A trait that he could never get rid of, no matter how hard he tried. “Get something for mi bella, eh? And anotha’ pint of your best beer. How you doin’?” he asked, turning to the woman and moving the hair away from his coffee coloured eyes.
“-the Notre Dame is really quite the sight. Paris in general,” the ginger murmured, smiling deviously, hooded eyes staring at the beautiful girl next to him. He lifted up his pint of Bitter, thanking his lucky stars that this particular pub had that particular brand of beer in the Americas. However, he hardly got one sip before he was rudely shoved to the side, lip of the tankard clinking against his teeth, and the amber liquid splattering the front of his jacket. “Ay, you tosser! Watch out, aye?!” he snapped, jumping back from the bar, pulling his now-cold, thin, half shirt away from his skin. “Bloody throw a spanner in the mix, why don’t ya?” British accent becoming even more so heavier.
Diesel’s green eyes snapped up at the accent, hair on the back of his neck bristling. Aw, hell. Of all the yankees he could have the misfortune of meeting up with.... “What in the bloody hell are you doin’ here?” He growled out, grabbing a fistful of the man’s collar and dragging him back. Momentarily, he forgot about Matilda. “Bugger off, you t**t!” Quickly, he looked to the side, meeting the confused eyes of his date.
“Lady, this arse here is only trying to chat up for a chance to bonk ya, ya gotta see that. Why, he’s always taking the piss when it comes to a woman with a nice pair of strawberry creams,” he rushed out, attempting to dissuade any charm his ex-friend and ex-partner in crime tried to spin. “Why, he couldn’t tell his head from his arse when we first me, down by the shanty harbour. Y’see, I might ‘ve been a bit of a new spurt, fancying a thrilling life, but this wanker here couldn’t tell his head from his arse-”
It was easy to ignore the man beside him when his hands weren’t on him. Easy as sin. However; as soon as his cherry red jacket collar was yanked back, that was an entirely different matter.
Kivi glared at the offender, jerking away from the man’s hold as if it were lethally toxic. In fact, it probably was for his precious coat. The man’s hands had destroyed more than one of his jackets. And s**t, if they didn’t cost a pretty penny. “Please, don’t touch the material. It’s Gucci. Somethin’ that you’ve never had the pleasure of wearin’.” He commented snidely, straightening up the collar from any crease carefully, and flipping it.
“If you must know; I’m here to settle a score wit’ someone. Dat person being, you, Melon,” a half truth, but not the whole truth. He did have to settle a score, but not with the man in question. Oh no, he had much bigger fish to fry than the impudent swine in front of him.
But his mind was quickly changed when the man started to tell the lady things. Truths, yet exaggerated and very detrimental honesty that would ruin his chance to getting laid tonight. And he couldn’t let the opportunity slip. Not when Melvin took an interest in the lady in question.
‘’Scuse you?” he butted in, pushing past the pierced fellow, staring at the very confused woman with feigned sympathy. “I’m sorry, il mio amore. This….porco cane doesn’t have a clue to what he’s talkin’ about. All I wanted was to talk and make your acquaintance. You seem like a very bright and beautiful bella. One I wouldn’t mind taking home to mamma e papa back home. I only wanted to know more about you. This fellow here---you see—he doesn’t like me talkin’ to his lovers. He’s quite the—oh, how do you say it?---the disonesto e geloso type. See those clothes he’s wearin?” he asked, pinching the man’s shirt with disdain, not wanting to touch the soiled fabric in the least. “well, he doesn’t have mucho denaro.” The brunette held up his right hand and rubbed his fingers together in emphasis. “Clothes from eh, Goodwill. He’s a charity case, mia bella. In fact--,”
“Listen ‘ere, you bloody ponce! I don’t even want to wear the gitty clothes you seem to sport!” Diesel respond angrily. He turned back to Matilda, opening his mouth to continue before green eyes were once again drawn to the irritating t**t beside him. “Oh, blimey, ye dumb yankee. Pea-brain ‘ere claims to be Italian. I believe ‘im as far as I can spit ‘em, I tell you,” and the ginger went to do just that, before looking nervously at Matilda and swallowing the saliva. “But I won’t,” he muttered, albeit reluctantly. He shoved the man’s grubby hands away from his shirt, utterly offend. “Why you l’il twit,” he exclaimed loudly, pulling back his arm before letting it go forward, making sound contact to the man’s right cheek. Damn it all to bloody hell, he wanted a tussle.
Oh, it was all unbelievable that he had once been inseparable from the git in front of him. Of course, Diesel knew he was responsible for the rift; it was unavoidable and yet, the guilt gnawed at him. Being spitting mad at his ex-comrade made things all the more tolerable; they needed to remain enemies, all for the sake of the boss’s ulterior motive. Pretend rogue and join the rival gang; it was as simple as that. And with the loud mouth fake Italian hanging around, Diesel knew he had to make his betrayal seem as real as possible.
“Beat it, Kiwi,” he growled, forcing the image of his best lad out of his mind. It had been so easy, when they had first met on their first underground escapade…
Kalidi was going to continue on about the man’s lack of decent clothing. However, he didn’t get the chance to. For Deisel had rudely interrupted him in mid speech, yet saving him from having to touch the idiot’s sorry excuse of a shirt any longer. His arm retreated back to his side, and he looked at the English man incredulously. “My clothes are not gitty,” he sniffed sourly, rubbing the precious fabric as if it was his actual child. Which was true, with the way he treated his precious garments. He grimaced, nose scrunching up in distaste as he eyed the ginger up and down. “Better than your poorman rags. Did you even go shopping for them, or did you pick them up from the local trash heap?”
Lips upturned in a sneer, the brunette glared at the other man, but didn’t give him a response. Instead, he turned to who was important here. The woman. “I’m sorry, mi cara. The oaf has no idea about my heritage. I am Italian. Come from the hills of Venice. Ah, how I miss my homeland.” He added, inching his orange sunglasses farther up on his face to hide in a subconscious attempt to mask his lie. What the little lady didn’t know, couldn’t hurt her.
Kiwi was about to get closer to the girl, however; a punch to his cheek impeded that decision, making him fall to the side and stumble into the bar’s countertop. Vehemently, he glowered at the young man, pushing him roughly. “Don’t you dare mar my beautiful face.” He spat at the man, lunging forward with a blow of his own.
Unfortunately, before that punch could hit its target, his arm was grabbed and twisted back by a stranger. Most likely one of the bouncers that were at the door, who heard the commotion. To his delight, Deisel was in the same situation. But that didn’t smolder his anger that he held for the man. Not in the slightest.
“Let me go, you buffoon!” he growled, struggling with all his might. Alas, no matter how hard he pushed, he shoved, or complained; the idiots wouldn’t let up on their hold. Actually, it got quite painful the more he did so. So, he gave up. Let the men do what they willed. Let them release them onto the city streets with a huff and the bird.
“This was all your fault,” he muttered, growling at the ginger before sauntering away with a flamboyant flip of his collar. He had better things to do with his time.
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Posted: Thu Jan 30, 2014 9:06 pm
Red's Name: Phoenix Ari Delacoix
Red's Player: Rinial Sisterdragon
Red's Personality: Phoenix quietly observes his prey, or friends often seeming to be more calculating than he really is. Most of the time his analysis consists of, "Do they look fun?" The answer being in the affirmative he will proceed to coerse them into some kind of game, event, or a night out drinking. He always feels that the best way to get to know the real person behind a mask is when they're drunk. Everyone wears a mask, even himself. Though he does remove his more readily around his friends.
At a glance he seems to be a pretty boy only interested in a few things, most of them likley sexual given his attire. Despite his appearance he's an all around innocent with a wild imagination so he can easily fit in with the pervs he's made friend with. Sometimes he has issues with the finer nuances in the details when speaking about them, but his friends know he's got the goods since he has a strange passion for writing smut. And damn good smut too. Though saying that out loud will cause him to blush just a little.
Phoenix has never been truly angry in his life, he's not sure what he'd do if he was, and the only person who's ever come close to making him that angry is his best friend, and brother from another mother, Beau.
Blue's Name: Beau Emerson Parker
Blue's Player: lysia_nyteblade
Blue's Personality: Beau seems like an all around letch. His eye seems to wander over both genders equally. He's bawdy and even a bit crude. He's only brutally blunt when you've grated him the wrong time. A bit of a pacifist he claims to be a lover not a fighter.
His friends he's mighty protective over. Bark at one of them and he'll rip your throat out. He seems quite the ruffian, the little punk and urchin. Really deep down he's a bit of a sentimental fool. He likes to read smutty books. He's got an affinity for those Japanese romance games, though if you ask him.. he only plays them for the stories and plots.
His best friend Phoenix is just about the only one that can keep in on a leash when he gets ready to thrash some one. His temper isn't quick to tip unless you're messing with his friends but once it's been tipped.. you can bet the only one able to keep him under control will be Phoenix.
Prompt #1, 2 or 3: #1
When asked the question of how they met, Phoenix and Beau related this story to us:
--- He'd lost the damn thing. Where could he have misplaced his draft this time? Phoenix sighed inwardly trying to remember where he'd been during thw whole of the day and if he could retrace his steps to figure out where his latest creation for light novel reading had gone. It wasn't like he misplaced them all the time, and this was the sixth draft he'd written so his editor was going to eat his face if he didn't have it with him this time.
Chewing on his pen he thought back, maybe he'd left it at Zyr's Cafe? It was where he'd spent time editing it last, maybe it had fallen out.
Dumping the contents of his bag into his dorm room, he grabbed his wallet and headed off to see if there was any chance the book was still there.
He'd just paid for a large steamed milk and was sitting down to a table to people watch while he enjoyed his drink. What he hadn't planned on was there to be some sort of manuscript there on the table. Normally, he wouldn't have looked it over. He often respected the privacy of others.
A glance of the front page was what had gotten his attention. "Cox Ar Phail..." He smirked as he read the author's name. This had already intrigued him. With a name like that.. maybe what was inside was just as interesting?
Carefully, he turned the page and started to read. An hour and a half went by and he was still reading. His steamed milk was halfway gone and now cold. It was better than ok.. it was great. The plot was good the characters beleivable.. and the smut.. well.. The cheshier like grin was enough to show it wasn't lacking.
The walk was long when one was being stopped and hit on by random people. Finally he'd gotten to the Cafe. Calmly he pulled together his composure, put on his best cocky smirk and swung open the door to Zyr's place. He waved to the current barista who happily began making his usual drink. Right, now to see where it might be.
His heart nearly stopped when his eyes lit on the most unlikely of characters, not only with his manuscript in hand, but reading it with a grin that looked somewhat like he'd eaten a canary that was pleasantly plump and tasty. That was...disconcerting at best. Maybe he should leave. Just head out...go somewhere else and save himself the embarrassment of revealing he was the writer? Maybe he could go and hit on the guy and get him to leave the manuscript behind. But that's even more embarrassing than admitting I'm the writer.
Phoenix sighed inwardly and headed to a table where he could observe the reader, maybe the dude would just leave it there.
He picked up his cup, took a swig and set down the book. Cold steamed milk wasn't what he'd been wanting. setting down the book, he looked around. Maybe this author was still around? Lifting the book, he continued to read.
He finally finished reading the book after some more time and closed it, standing. Still the mysterious author hadn't made him or herself known if they were still around. It was a bit of a disappointment. He wanted to give the author praise. He'd read smut books before.. but this was the first one that had grasped his attention and pulled him most captivly into the plots.
Standing, he gave his cold drink a look and grabed the cup. Tossing it in the trash, he ordered another one to go and upon paying for it and receiving it he asked the barista if she knew who left the manuscript behind. Still he held it in his hand as he inquired.
Oh, how he wanted to die. Crawl into a hole and curl up into a ball and never come out again. It was bad enough when a normal friend got a hold of one of his really rough drafts, but now this complete stranger had read the entire thing, and was...was he asking if the barista knew who had left it? Of course she knew. She'd watched him for hours and hours while he'd worked and slaved over each draft.
She'd smiled gently and nodded her head to the question, then pointed to Phoenix and offered to take it to him with his order if the guy liked, or he could follow her over if he wanted.
Phoenix was having a fit internally as he tried to look anywhere and everywhere but at the two conversing at the counter. He'd been sold out by the barista. Who did not know he was writing the manuscript, but did very well know he'd left it behind. A perverse documentation of his wild imaginings. He was in for it now, likely to be beaten to a pulp for his works...or maybe blackmailed...he didn't make enough money to be blackmailed, did he? A thousand thoughts whirled through his mind while his outside remained cool, calm and dashingly sexy.
His eyes followed to where the barista pointed. Smiling, he waved and turned back to the barista, thanking her for her help and ensuring tht he would deliver it himself along with the gentleman's order. Order and manuscript in hand, he walked to the man's table and set down both cups and manuscript down.
"I know I likely shouldn't have read it.. but.. I have to say.. who ever this author is.. They have talent." He was being honest as he spoke. "Do you mind if I sit and join you?"---
"And those were the famous last words, uttered by Beau before he was kidnapped and stuffed into a van never to be seen again!" Phoenix cackled madly.
"And this...this is why we can't have nice things," Beau shook his head, "All in all the night ended with drinking, lots of drinking."
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Posted: Wed Feb 05, 2014 11:40 pm
Red's Name: Castiel Ikati
Red's Player: Katsura Zanshin
Red's Personality: Castiel is snarky and sarcastic with a big temper and a short fuse. Luckily, while it's easy to set him off, it's usually just as easy to snap him out of his anger...if you know the right tricks. He's a daredevil who loves sneaking into enemy territory and stealing trinkets. He doesn't steal for money, just for bragging rights with his friends.
Blue's Name: Leka Cephas
Blue's Player: Nasaiki
Blue's Personality: Leka is a very no nonsense type of guy, that doesn’t take no for an answer and has a very proud streak to him. If he hates you, he can be cruel, taunting and downright sadistic. This makes him come across as cold and standoffish and he has no problems correcting either statement. He’s also very intelligent to go with all his other bad aspects which make him downright hostile if you catch him in a bad mood. He despises tardiness and laziness to a fault. However he’s also extremely loyal, and is mellow and more laid back if you manage to get with in his circle of close people. Kind words and praise are known to be occasionally said and he only smiles for those select few.
Prompt #1, 2 or 3: 2
Castiel knocked back his drink and slammed the glass back onto the bar. “That damn dog.” He growled for the millionth time since that afternoon. His tail lashed back and forth irritation, and his ears were pinned flat against his head. “If I ever see him again, I'm going to kill him, Stephen.”
“Yeah, yeah, so you keep saying.” his friend replied, taking the glass and adding more amber liquid to it. “The bar's closed now, are you actually going to tell me what happened or what? I'm not going to let you sit here and drink free booze all night, you know.” He poured a drink for himself, passed Castiel his drink, and leaned against the bar, settling in for the story. Castiel got angry pretty easily, but he normally came down from it pretty fast too; Stephen definitely wanted to know what was riling up his friend.
“I was just out for a damn stroll, when I “accidentally” crossed over into some dog's territory....”
Leka noticed something out of the corner of his eye and found a cat that had managed to get into his territory; the dog grumbled and ran a hand through his hair. Figures. One tries to go out to get a walk and fate takes a crap on them. “What's brought you over to my side this time, flea.” He snarled.
Castiel paused at the snarl and looked to see the owner of the voice. Damn it, he didn't expect to be caught so soon after entering enemy territory. “None of your business, Mutt.” He snarked back, eyeing the other. “Your kind is too dumb to understand large enough words for me to explain it to you anyway.”
Leki made a sound of disagreement, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Tch, and did it take you long to come up with that? Huh. I would have thought you'd have a more original taunt after boasting about your supposed intelligence.”
“Why waste originality on someone like you?” Castiel raked the other with his gaze and sneered at the dog. “You obviously don't value it that much.”
"To prove that you aren’t some run of the mill cat who is deluded into thinking they're clever when really they are as boring as any other cat that tries to get in here. Can we just get this over with so you aren’t wasting any more of my time" Leka practically sneered as he crosses his arms and glared at the intruder before him.
“If I'm boring you, you can leave.” Castiel replied, making an elaborate 'after you' gesture. “Then I really can get this day over with. I'm going to have to take a million baths to get the stink of dog off of me.” He sneered back. Dammit, why didn't this dog just leave.
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen. I wouldn’t be a very good member if I just left this territory open after seeing a cat. However if you didn’t want to stink as you so aptly put it then you shouldn’t have wondered over here” Leka said with a slight irritated 'tch' finally deciding to do something by pushing the bloody cat into the wall.
Castiel sputtered before baring his teeth and growling at the dog. “Let go of me, you flea bitten mutt.” Castiel struggled and tried to kick the other male.
Leka rolled his eyes again before letting out a low growl. He really did need to be moving on with his day. With a smirk he decided the best way to get the stupid cat out was to do something unexpected. Grabbing Castiel's shirt Leka kissed the hell out of the flea brained cat in front of him. Seeing as the other one was clearly startled Leka hoisted the cat, walked over to the wall Castiel used to climb over, and bodily throw the mangy feline out of his territory. “There I let go of you. Now stay out.”
“That...that b*****d. I can't believe he did that to me and just kicked me out. I had something very important to steal, dammit.” Castiel waved his hands energetically and nearly knocked over his drink.
“Wow...that's quite the story, Castiel.” Stephen drawled, trying to hide the grin that was trying to break free. “Your parents are going to be soooo pissed when they hear the news.”
“Huh?” Castiel blinked at his friend in drunken confusion. “What news?”
“The news that you want to get in that guy's pants. Jesus, it's so obvious. I can give you a little something to dose him with.” Stephen said, leaning across the bar and grinning. “A little bit of an aphrodisiac and he'll be all over you like white on rice.”
Castiel flushed pink and threw a punch across the bar, nailing his friend's laughing, smartass face and sending him sprawling. “I do not! And that will NEVER HAPPEN!” Castiel snarled at Stephen's laughing face and stormed upstairs. “And I'm locking you out of the apartment you idiot!”
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Posted: Fri Feb 07, 2014 6:38 am
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Posted: Fri Feb 07, 2014 2:45 pm
Red's Name: Oliver Keeton
Red's Player: Lexi_Perplexi
Red's Personality: Oliver is a loose cannon, he has a horrible habit of running his mouth and acting before thinking things through. This feline is rather vain and gets in a tizzy about his appearance if its brought up in a negative light. He also enjoys the drink and can often be found partying behind closed doors - if you know what I mean.
While he has all these rather off key qualities he has a few good ones - if you win his affection you'll be in his heart forever and he'll do anything for you. So far there is only one person that holds that title, his best bro Malcolm. There is nothing he wouldn't do for his canine bro.
Blue's Name: Malcolm Walker
Blue's Player: Peter D Hook
Blue's Personality: Malcolm is fairly self-centered and he's not one to easily care about others. He's rough around the edges, though he can be a huge softie with the right push. Despite his nature, he has strong morals. Mal has only one bro he's super tight with, that he would take a bullet for, that he would be at his side the moment he called, and that bro would be Oliver. Mal loves Oliver like a brother, and he would literally do anything for his best bro.
Mal has moments where he's easy going, and he loves to 'get around' with dudes and ladies. He wants to find someone to settle down with, but that someone has to be down with his best bro or it's a no go. He's rough and tumble, loves to pick fights with other boys of the streets, such as rival gangs and whatnot. And in a fight, he'll forever have Oliver's back.
Prompt #1, 2 or 3: Seemingly starts of with prompt Two, but is ultimately prompt One c:
Yelps of pain and bodies hitting the ground were all that Oliver could hear - he had a split second to think about how all of this happened after his fist connected with someone's face dropping the other being to the ground. "Ugh...." The feline blew out a breath, his eyes traveling around as his gang mixed with their rivals. Turf wars were never a fun thing - though they pumped him up and he could use that energy for something else after this died down. It had only taken one nasty statement from one of the other gang's members before punches were thrown and they were pushed into a free for all. "Come at me!" He yelled as he looked around for anyone stupid enough to take him up on his challenge.
"If you insist." A fist snapped out and connected with Oliver's cheek and the member who had made the comment that started the fight stood over the rival gang leader. His green eyes narrowed and his lips curled in a smirk as he punched his own palm challengingly. Malcolm noted that the gang leader's glasses had landed on the ground and with a cocky grin, Mal stepped on them, hearing a satisfying crack. "Oops. My bad." He held out his arms invitingly. "Wanna do somethin' about it, ******** didn't see the fist coming until it connected with his cheek, the blow wasn't hard enough to knock him down but it was hard enough to piss him off. "You...I would love to kick your a**." Those words were barely out of his mouth before the dog stepped on his custom shades, the sound of them crunching under the other's foot making him clench his teeth. It was at that point that speaking was over, orange eyes narrowed slightly as he threw himself at the canine. Unlike his enemy he was more used to using his legs in a fight so a sweeping kick was his first move.
Malcolm hadn't expected such a quick retaliation, much less a kick, and he went down hard, wincing as he landed on his tail. He quickly got to his feet again and threw another punch at the cat, grabbing the collar of his top with a smirk before he headbutted the feline. "How'd ya like that, p***y cat?" Malcolm himself suffered a moment of dizziness from the headbutt and he shook his head to try and clear it. "Ouch... ********, that hurt."
Oliver's head snapped back and when his orange gaze returned to the canine, his nose was bleeding. He brought his hand up to inspect the damage, and he took advantage of Malcolm's disorientation and backhanded him hard, causing him to fly into the wall. The feline smirked, strutting over to the fallen canine, leaning down to look him in the eye. "This is what you get, you sorry b*****d."
The canine sucked in a pained breath, using the wall to support himself as he once more got to his feet. Green eyes looked over the cat and the he turned his attention to survey how the fight was going for the rest of his gang. His leader was holding his own, naturally, as were a few others. The rest had already been dropped by the Red Diamonds, Oliver's crew. They seemed to be breathing, at the very least. Malcolm turned his attention to Oliver again, inwardly berating himself for the snide comment he made to start this fight in the first place. Not that he could take it back now. "Welp, let's finish this."
Oliver squinted as Malcolm stood, watching him when he turned his attention to the rest of the fight. Some of his own guys had gone down, but they still outnumbered the Blue Scorpions. He smirked proudly, eying Malcolm as the dog circled around him. The two stared each other down. Well, at least Oliver was, considering he was about a foot taller than the dog. A sudden flash caught his eye and he realized someone, though it had gotten too dark to tell which gang they were from, had pulled a gun. His orange eyes widened in alarm as the gun fired and without a second thought Oliver pushed Malcolm to the side, a bullet connecting with his shoulder. "Argh! ********> The cat went down, clutching his shoulder to keep it from bleeding.
Malcolm seemed confused when Oliver shoved him aside, though once the familiar ring of a gunshot hit his ears, he realized what had happened. Surprisingly, Oliver had protected him. His head whipped around and his eyes narrowed as he homed in on the one with the gun. It was one of his fellow gang members. The canine bristled in anger. They had agreed no guns to this turf meeting. He turned back to Oliver and ripped the sleeve off his own jacket and wrapped the feline's injury. After he was done, he joined the fray again, barreling into the one with the gun, proceeding to beat his a**.
With a grunt, Ollie managed to get to his feet again and he watched the fight, keeping an eye on everyone in case someone else had a weapon. His fears were confirmed when he saw someone else with a knife approaching the canine he had been brawling with. "Yo, mutt! Watch out!" He shoved everyone out of his way, going to the dog's side to fight beside him. He grabbed the knife from one of his own and decked him hard in the face. He looked over his shoulder at Malcolm. "Looks like you owe me again." He smirked, his tail flicking almost playfully.
Malcolm threw another punch to his own gang mate and glanced back when he heard Oliver's voice. He was once again that the cat had protected him. When the Red Diamonds leader pressed his back to Malcolm's, the ginger grinned. "I guess I do owe you big time for this. But we can talk about it later." The fight continued for about an hour and soon the Blue Scorpions, and the knife-wielder from Oliver's crew, ran off. Although Malcolm stayed behind.
Ollie smirked as the fight ended and his gang ended up winning rights to this turf. Once all of the Blue Scorpions dispersed, it was the cat's turn to be surprised. Instead of up and running with the rest of his crew, the one who started the fight in the first place had stayed. Curious, much like all cats, Ollie walked over to the dog, crossing his arms gingerly to avoid pulling at his gunshot wound. "You fight like one of us, mutt. What's your name?"
The canine dusted himself off and straightened himself as he turned to face the feline. "It's Malcolm. And thanks, for watching my back out there." He held out his hand to the Red Diamonds leader, looking embarrassed that he was acknowledging a rival for saving his life, but he was grateful nonetheless. "Sorry you got shot. I thought everyone was in agreement on the no weapons thing."
With a laugh, Ollie took Malcolm's hand, giving it a firm shake. "Apparently, one of my guys missed the memo, too. I'm Oliver. Anyway, looks like you got ditched. Why don't you join my crew? We make one hell of a team." He chuckled, reaching out to smack Malcolm on the back. "What do you say, mutt?"
Malcolm's tail wagged at the invitation, much to his dismay. But he smiled, returning the firm handshake he received from his now-former rival. "We are a pretty good team, huh? Yeah, I'll join your crew." At the grin he got from the cat, his own grew. "Drinks on me!"
Orange eyes lit up and Oliver threw an arm around the shorter male's shoulders, still minding his injury. "Now, that's what I'm talking about! Welcome to the family, Malcolm! But seriously, don't you dare bail on us with this drinking bill."
The two led the rest of the Red Diamonds to a nearby dive, laughing loudly and causing a ruckus like most hoodlums usually do. And since that day, Malcolm and Oliver vowed to have each other's back through thick and thin, even when (or if) they decide to leave the gang life to pursue a simpler one. But no matter what, this cat and dog, after fighting like ones, are bros for life.
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Posted: Fri Feb 07, 2014 3:59 pm
Red's Name: Atticus Leverett
Red's Player: Yushika
Red's Personality:
Calculating and reticent, Atticus is not known for his outgoing nature. He is known to observe from the side, seeing everything while few see him. He prefers it that way. Most find him hard to approach, for he is terse, and harshly blunt, speaking his mind firmly without wasting words.
He is indeed introverted, as is characteristic of most felines, requiring his space in order to be content. He is incredibly clever, and performs well under stress while maintaining his cool.
While he does not cooperate with authority, he will not unnecessarily instigate it, rather, he will try to manipulate and find a way around authority, cooperating and even being nice just to get out of trouble. He prefers to avoid incidents.
Blue's Name: Aric Lyall
Blue's Player: Shi Berry
Blue's Personality:
Aric is a fiery personality, outgoing and sociable, preferring to know everyone because everyone knows him. He is chaotic and rash, acting more on impulse. He is quick to act, not wasting much time with thought, which has frequently gotten him into more trouble than he would ever care to admit.
He has a huge issue with authority, for he has an unfortunate Alpha complex. He will brazenly clash with and just be a total a*****e to any form of authority just because it is authority. He is infamous with the police who he finds himself in trouble with very often, and he would probably be dead by now if it were not for his friends who somehow find a way to vouch for his character just enough to get them out of all the trouble in which Aric finds himself involved. There is truth to what they say about him, for Aric is a very loyal friend and will go to Hell and back for those he cares about, though others have a tendency to piss him off very quickly so there are few who can call him their friend.
Prompt #1, 2 or 3: 3 — Both Yushika and I see this developing into a very close friendship, but we would like to roleplay it out just to see how it works.
“’Ey, look who decided to show up!”
Green eyes found the source of the voice, a smirk forming on his maw as he ambled over to the male. “Man, I told you not to miss me!” he countered, taking the other’s head in his hands, giving him a headbutt in greeting.
Another voice laughed in response. “How couldn’t we? It’s not a party till Aric shows up, not a good one, anyway.”
The others in the immediate area agreed, lifting their glasses to the dog by the door, one relinquishing his own, untouched drink to him. Aric took it without question, drinking it immediately. “Leave you guys alone for a while and your guys’ worlds fall apart.”
“Well, I think our worlds stay pretty intact, they’re just… dull. No one knows how to raise some mayhem quite like you.”
“Say, Aric, what’d you do to get your a** handed to you by the cops, anyway? Parole for a year?”
“More than that, right?”
“You must’ve seriously pissed someone off…”
“I’d like to forget that s**t. I’m gettin’ pissed off just thinking ‘bout it.”
Most of the guests had now noticed that Aric was indeed present, as it was rumored, but never formally stated. This was to be his party now that he had finally been released from parole, however, if the police had heard whispers of any part of that nature, this party would have been under their relentless scrutiny. Aric had an air of infamy about him. Though few truly knew him, everyone knew of him and of what he was capable.
While most of the guests danced, Aric sat with a few of his closer friends around one of the few tables closer to the bar, talking about nothing substantial, but laughing anyway. “It’s good to be back,” he stated with a content smile, leaning back into the seat.
“Oi, Aric! Why aren’t there any fires yet? You don’t have any blood on you, neither!”
He threw a challenging look at he who spoke, grinning. “Party’s just starting man, just you wait.” As yet another acquaintance left his sight, his eyes met the amber eyes of some brunette sitting at the smallest table off to the side of the room. They held each other’s gaze for a moment before the other lost interest, looking back down at a far more interesting item. Aric’s eyes narrowed, confusion manifesting itself in his furrowed brow. “Who’s that?” he asked, pointing a claw in the direction of the brunette in red.
His friend shrugged. “No idea. Came with one of the girls.”
Aric’s tail wagged, curious. Picking his drink off the table, he rose, sauntering over to this unknown noodle. “You seem out of place here,” he began. “What’s a pretty lady like yourself doing at a party with a book?” He smiled, waving a paw at the book.
Atticus looked up at him over the rim of his orange lenses, giving the dog a look of disinterest rather than disbelief. “How do people actually wish to be around you when you are so dense?”
Aric blinked. “Your voice… You’re not…”
“No, I am not,” he replied with a dismissive wave of his tail.
“Oh… my bad, man. I thought you were—“
“I know what you thought. Now, I have more important matters to attend to, if you don’t mind.”
His eyes narrowed, and, in an act of indignation, he took the seat across from the male, resting his elbows on the table. “What’s the point of going to a party if you’re just gonna spend it reading?”
Atticus looked up at him again, paw holding the book open on the table. “My friend all but dragged me out here.”
“You could at least pretend to have fun, for your friend, if anyone.”
“What? My idle behavior taking from your party?”
Aric grinned. “Never.” He turned to the crowd on the dance floor. “Oi, guys! This guy’s got a book! Show this ******** a good time, yeah?” A cheer resonated through the crowd, and they moved toward Aric and Atticus. The feline sat up straight, casting a glare at the smirking canine as the distance between them and the drunken chaos closed. Aric stood up, lacing an arm around the waist of one of the girls, taking a deep breath of her scented mane, muzzle finding her ear. “Dance,” he instructed, before pushing her in Atticus’ direction. Atticus reacted, catching her, though she refused to let him go. His amber eyes remained fixed on Aric as he moved through the crowd. He eventually returned with some drinks, handing one to Atticus. He accepted it hesitantly, but he figured he would need it. They danced, then.
Sometime later, tere was a knock at the door. “We received a noise complaint from your neighbor… five houses away from here… What’s going on here?”
“Just some good fun, officer. Nothin’ special.”
“Is there an Aric Lyall present at this party?”
“I’m not sure? It’s a pretty crowded place.”
“Don’t play smart, kid. We know he’s here.”
Hearing his name, Aric meandered his way out of the crowd. “’Ey! The hell you guys want?” He called, gritting his teeth, glaring at the doorway. Atticus took note of the disturbance, slipping through the crowd to watch the brewing confrontation to which most were oblivious.
“Watch it, boy. You just got off, but we’ll book you again in a heartbeat if you step out of line, and I’m guessing that it won’t be long till then.”
“I ain’t causing any trouble, asshat. You’re just looking for trouble.”
“You are trouble. We just have to find you, and lo and behold, trouble’s around.”
“Get out. Bitches have no business here.”
“Watch your mouth, kid. I won’t say it again.”
“The ******** you gonna do? I haven’t done s**t.”
“You don’t need to. With your history, we can nail you for anything. Disorderly conduct, resisting, you name it.”
“Apologies, officer. I think Aric here’s just had a few too many to drink.”
“Even when he’s sober he’s a problem. Now step aside.”
“Officer, please. This is my home you’re in, and I ask that you please leave.”
“This is your house?”
“Yes, and while Aric’s here, he’s not being a bother. Just, I’d rather there not be an incident. I’m sure your supervisors would love to hear all about it.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No, sir. I just pride myself as an informed citizen, and I have this place monitored. So, if you don’t mind?”
The officer paused, observing Atticus with a harsh glower for a few moments. “Quiet this place down, you hear?”
“Duly noted.”
“And you, Lyall! Tread lightly.”
Atticus closed the door behind the officer, shoulders relaxing. He pivoted, directing his attention toward Aric. “You stupid, mangy mutt. Do you really not think before you act?”
Aric tilted his head. “This isn’t your house.”
“No, of course not. Do you really think I would invite such unsavory, troublesome folk into my home? You cannot even manage to stay out of trouble for twelve hours after someone removes your leash.”
He shrugged. “Just my nature, I guess.”
“Well, fix it.” He gestured to the scars dancing across Aric’s form. “I can read that rocky history written on your flesh.”
Aric paused then, finally taking a moment to think. “I guess thanks for gettin’ me out of that…”
“You are going to get yourself killed someday.”
Aric chuckled. “Countin’ on it.” He found a drink, though he did not know to whom it belonged. “So, what’s your name?”
After a moment of silent contemplation, he sighed. “Atticus Leverret.” They sat for a while without an exchange of words before Atticus decided to speak once more. “You know, I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. You have been the talk of the town, and I wanted to know what was so interesting… clearly, I made a grievous error…”
Aric laughed, raising his drink. “Welcome to Hell, Atticus Leverret. Sorry for dragging you down here, but you might find it’s not such a bad place.”
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Posted: Sun Feb 09, 2014 5:58 pm
It was really difficult to judge and a LONG set of readings and re-readings.
But I think I've finally settled on my choice for winners. The characters I found to be most colorful, and the entry I read and reread the most belong to... Congratulations, you two!
And thank you everyone that entered. All of you had some real spicy entries for me, but I just couldn't pass theirs up.
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Posted: Sun Feb 09, 2014 6:16 pm
/Screeches ;U; Thank you, Loveless QUQ
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Posted: Mon Feb 10, 2014 12:47 pm
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