I suck at RPs. Just ask Dys. . .

You can't suck thaaat badly :P

Oh really? Well, I'm not very good at description and I can't do plot for beans. . .

Someone said my name.

xD Bahaha. Takes me an assload of time to post a reply when my Muse goes on vacation. Just ask Kale!

xD

I don't think I has a Muse.. :P
*Is extremely uncreative*
This is all I could come up with for the opener of the RP thingie.

Originally Posted by Clorissa

~
Iseria was a fairly Utopian queendom before Queen Amaryllis fell ill. When she was no longer fit to rule the land, it fell into disarray and a massive depression. Amaryllis was a very young queen, only around 25 in human years, and hadn't yet been able to bear any children. The throne would be hard to fill without her daughter or son to replace her, due to the rest of her family not wanting to be involved in political hierarchies.

Asher, Belle, Kaelid, and Phary were called upon by Queen Amaryllis' advisers to travel to Kamrydon, an Elven kingdom in the far west, many leagues away from any other intelligent life. The Elves were a very secluded group of peoples, due to how advanced and civilized their culture was. They liked to keep people out, but had a fairly close alliance with the Faeries of Iseria. Hopefully, they'd be able to take an Elven physician back to Iseria with them to evaluate the Queen and brew up something to cure whatever illness it was that the Faery doctors couldn't grasp.

Each with a scroll signed by Amaryllis herself, we find Asher, Gallagher, Belle, and Phary, preparing in a large hall, full of supplies and such. Each member of the group was allotted a large backpack, saddlebags/saddle, one of the queendom's finest stallions, two weeks of foods, hunting supplies, and other nessecities. Other things of their own accord that they wanted to bring had to fit with them, such as a sword or staff, and other battle items.

I hopes I'm allowed to post that xD It's kinda biggish.

This is actually one of my better posts.

Originally Posted by Dystopia

She didn't sleep. How could anyone sleep in this world, in this world where humans had damned humans? How could anyone stay human at all? She didn't know. She didn't care. She wasn't a human. She wasn't an animal. She wasn't even alive behind the beat of her heart, which was forced through the layers of internal damage done by what her veins so hungrily consumed daily. She was a machine, a machine oiled by drugs. A machine who paid for the oils to keep her gears clean by dirtying the temple of her body. But that temple had fallen long ago, its importance long gone and forgotten. The drugs and the life preserver to counteract the drugs were much more important to her than whose hand went where on her body.

She couldn't sleep. How could anyone sleep in this hell, in this hell where demons crept? She could hear their voices calling for her. Calling... Calling... Their tones were as distorted as hers and they called. Called and called. She could hear them! She could! And she shuddered and she trembled, her knees clutched to her stomach and her eyes flickering nervously about the room if not rolled to the back of her head. That was why she hated the light. No! No! Then she could see them, and they could see her, with their hollow red eyes and their twisted smiles. They could see her and they would call, call and call again. But they would see her and they would come. Closer. Closer. No!

There was a sound in the darkness and her shrill shrieks shot the silence as though it were an intruder on home territory. But this was not her home, even as she struck the outsider with the sharp point of the dirtied needle. This was not her home she was defending, but she was here. Here, with a rabid rat and its repulsive teeth clattering. The repulsive thing! It squirmed, impaled through its chest. The twitches stopped shortly after, and the diseased carcass was torn and devoured. Devoured by a girl as or more disgusting than her prey. Devoured, and any disease shot dead by the drugs, the drugs that then in turn was shot dead by the medicine. Drugs. Medicine. Drugs. Medicine. That was the circle of life. Or death.

She was nervous now. Very nervous, with blood trickling down her chin and cheeks. The voices wouldn't like this, oh no. The voices wouldn't this at all. They would laugh and tease. Laugh and tease, then call and call. She belonged with them, she belonged with the damned! That was what they would tell her, whisper in her ear then disappear as she lashed out. Then they would laugh again. Again and again and again, they would toy with her. Torture her, beyond the physical brutality her sadistic clients found pleasurable. Pain? No one knew about pain. No one but her and the voices that called.

She didn't like the voices, and they wouldn't go away. So she would have to make them away, mute the voices so that she could not hear them as well as not see them. Two hands dug into her pockets to search for her necessities, the shivering right appearing with the syringe and the left clattering a bottle of something- something toxic for sure- onto the rotted ground. The container almost broke from the impact, dropped so very unevenly by her faltering arms. But she managed to poke a needle through and replace the remainder into one of her many pockets, the needed amount- which was obviously beyond what was safe -injected carelessly into a major vein.

Darkness. It flooded her for a minute, and everything started to hurt. Oh God, the voices! Make them stop! She screamed like a madwoman alongside them, her jargon cries exploding into the air. The whip of her demented tones slashed at the sky, which was as black as the forsaken woman's diseased heart. She was dying, and she knew it. She would have been dead long ago, but she needed her meds. She needed them or the voices would take her away! VOICES... Voices... Vo... It all faded into the drugs. The drugs were good, they took everything away. It was okay now. It was gone.

And she was calm...

Sadly enough, this RP died at the second page. D=

I can read it at the moment.. i can't focus on text like that right now.. I'm so fucked up.

Poor you. What's wrong?

I.. I don't really know. I'm really detatched... And anxious, and twitchy, and paranoid. And I just close to started crying... I found myself blinking back tears, for absolutely no reason.

It's so weird.. My mind controls my typing.. And my senses are dulled. It's almost hard to believe that these hands are my own. it feels like I'm looking at life through the lens of a camera.

i get this way, minus the twitching, shaking, and paranoia, when I'm really depressed.. but this isn't like normal. i'm not depressed... nothing happened to cause it..

hullo hullo!

Clorissa: aaaah D: that's like exactly how I feel a lot lately. and I can't figure out why!

Haha, thanks you guys for the birthday wishes a few pages back. *smiles*

Hey guys if I made a art shop, would you get my arts ;3;?

Maybeh if I had moolah for your arts.. And depending on what you'd draw for meh xD

@ Ram - YES. >.>;
Well, depends. How much ya planning to charge?

@Rammy- what does your art look like? xD

I has returned! ;3

I'm still here! Haha, though I'm kind of lurking. Haven't had much to talk about I guess.

My sister is coming to visit in a few days.

I'm back now.

@[email protected] The little kids over at my house spilled water on my keyboard, so I had to turn my computer off.

Dystopia: o,o shame on theeem!

hi hi marie!

@ Katla - T.T Uywah.

O_o what? *pokes Dystopia*

Hi everone! Why are you guys poking eachother?

@ Katla - I'm suffering.

@ Fox - I'm suffering.

... xD That's my answer for everything.

@ Dystopia - you repition you!

*Tackles Fox Paw* NEWTHREADPERSONNN~

Hello!