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 Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2008 5:43 pm
Look guys, I have been very active in quite awhile, mainly because I haven't be able to jump back into the 'Lines' Role-Play, however I haven't forgot you guys, but I have gotten quite bored, so from time to time, I will just post chapters here, give me some feedback, or comment on my awesomeness, and when the time comes for me to post, I will do so, but until then I will be active here.
Among the following will be everything you will expect to see here:
Journal entries from both character written in first person.
The complete story of Llyr and Thanos, started right after the left their home town.
Flashbacks to their hometown, and families.
*note: this isn't going to be a journal of the characters, it will be written as a story and then summarized by the journal entries at he beginning of each entry, and the end of each entry, others won't have journal entries at all.
Aside from this, don't aspect anything out of me that is out of the extraordinary, I won't change or alter anything because you the reader don't like it, the thing is, this is what I had in mind when I made the character, the only thing I am willing to change is the wording or spelling, to gain the full effect off what I'm trying to get past to you the reader.
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Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2008 8:38 pm
Hmm.... Okay then. Right now I'm busy, or I'd move those storylines along.
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Posted: Mon Mar 31, 2008 7:43 am
Its alright, I'm gonna chill here, I'll start in a bit I just want eat some breakfast first.
You and your Brawl Addiction.
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Posted: Mon Mar 31, 2008 8:37 am
It had been one month to the day since Thanos left his town in misery. In that time he did nothing, he sat around while everyone else was in chaos, he had nothing, and wanted nothing more that to be whole. But that was farther away that anyone could ever begin to believe. In the time, no one seem to notice him among the crowds, every was so cold and blanketed by the fear among everyone, it was what he desired, what he came to believe was true anarchy, he had cut all ties amongst his so called friends, there was only one that would allow him run away from it all, he believed that he did it without knowing it, but he'd later figure out that, that was far from the truth. He gripped his in anger that shallow day. He walked, breaking the barrier that locked everyone into the town that would soon be a forgotten memory. He breathed in before he knew it he was knocked down, trying to grasp his chest for air, to no real avail. Breathing on his back, he saw that their were boots, large trucks, and men, in uniforms new to him, thrashing around above him. One threw him to his feet, and out of the way, he thought nothing of it, and continued to walk against the crowd some yelled for him to go back, but their were as hollow as their uniforms, speaking for nothing, and yet representing everything.
Day faded to night, and Thanos wasn't closer to his goal that when he left. His breath could be seen in the dark, as a white mist, he wanted to breathe deeper, but his lung were already tight as possible, the cold was constricting, that was the horrible thing about these night, it go nearly unbearable, like he was swimming in a infinity void of ice water, and not being able to swim above to the surface and find refugee. The went on for what seem like thousands of hours, but in all actuality it was mere moments leading to one maybe two hours at most before he pasted out from exhaustion.
Morning hit him like a violent punch to the gut, Thanos snapped awake, he had unknowingly sought out refugee on the ground, he had fallen face first into the ground were, the frost had evaporated and the sun brought him back to life. He slowly arose to his feet, began to wrestle through his knapsack for some food to quench his what seem to be undying hunger, he had grabbed some meat, he wasn't sure what kind, but the container that the meat was carried in was in fact refrigerated, and opening it, it released a hiss of ice cold mist, both scaring him, and keeping him curious, he would be angry if he forgot something to cook the food with, twenty-four miles he had made so far in his search, and that also made it twenty-four miles away from just about everyone else in the world with at least a book of matches. At last, salvation in a one inch by one inch box. The first didn't pick up much, but however it was enough to cook the meat so it was well done, he ripped apart his meat with furious anger, and an undying passion to feel something other than emptiness, and a vacant desire.
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