10-26-2009, 08:49 PM
Eh. I am not too use to this site yet, BUT! I really want to role-play, which is the ONLY reason I joined. ^^ So, I have decided to make this little thread thingy to advertise my expertise.
Anyhoo here are some rules~
o1. I do NOT post anything less than five paragraphs. EVER. Plain and simple. If you are as good a writer as you say you are, you can manage at least that...
o2. I will NOT do a story intentionally based around romance. That is just stupid and unfun for me. Which leads me to my next point. I will play either male or female, but you better understand this rule. If we make a relationship out of it, it will be because it happened, not because you planned it.
03. Illiteracy makes me barf. So please, at least TRY and spell check. XD I make mistakes, but I make it a point to fix them....
o4. As for storyline, I prefer something original, or even sand-pit, but I am willing to do whatever is going to get you to write more. XD Honestly. I really like a good descriptive post to respond too. So if you have an idea, you let me know.
o5. BE CREATIVE! Oh how I love a good intrigue. But not something too farfetched, I mean, two ninjas or something walking along and then find an alien pirate race bent on enslaving all the orphans and your character is their queen? uhh.. no... XD
SOOOO! PM Me if you really want to RP. ^^ I am super friendly despite how strict my rules seem. OH!! Here is a sample of mah' work, so you indeed know my level of literacy....
SAMPLE POST//
Hell had been immoderately silent for the past month, if time had a measure at all in the depths of despair and unreason. The inhabitants had lost all track of the concept of time when it had forthwith occurred to them all that humanity had shown a lack of death, which was stripping these dark dungeons of hate and chaos of their former livelihood. The great door way carved in stone and blood had been left to rot, a forgotten pathway from the light to the dark, and one would merely have to walk through to find this decrepit city. The creatures of shadow had grown restless, burdened with the heavy weight of boredom, to say the least.
The doorway to hell itself had been quiet for days, Demonia found herself lying beside it, her head propped up on its entrance, and still, nothing had come. Not even an earth creature so minuscule, like a grasshopper; of whom would grace her presence with a soft hum of its violin like tune, and then be set free, back to it’s place of belonging. Demonia had a reputation to hold as the mother of the entire underworld, but she did avoid destroying the lives of creatures’ smaller than she. The main suburbanites that called this atramentous castle home, gathered each day in the streets looking to the vacant whole from this world to the next with a longing no mortal man would ever understand.
For years, mortals had feared that which called itself a, “demon,” though they were clearly nothing more than a mere image of humanity. Over the years living underneath their mortiferous brothers had proven fatal. The poisons and toxins that man had made themselves seeped into their caverness home and killed off many of their fellow comrades. Perhaps that it was humanity that should take a long, hard look at themselves before pointing fingers in who is more sinister than who. The Darellites, as Demonia had fostered them, were nothing more than strange creatures damned to this darkened place by man, and chained here by God himself. There was no more evil in this place then there was on every syllable an angel spoke in Heaven.
Demonia stood in the threshold of her castle, an aphotic edifice built by the Darellites to her honor. They have constructed statues in her name, immortalized as their one and true God. Though at first it had only flattered her, to say the least, now, she accepted such praise by returning the love for her fellow comrades. She was their matriarch, their savior, who brought them solace in the long nights of suffering as humanity reeks it’s unavoidable wrath upon the foundation of earth. And that, is where her wandering mind lingered, for there were forces at work, attempting to assassinate her, in a rendition of, “holy war.” How stupid they were to think that after all these years of slumbering in silence, building herself a grand army of Darellites that could crush an entire existence of angels off the face of this existence? But that could not be helped. Both sides knew the dangers of starting a war on the deadened face of earth, existence would cease to comply, and only the void that once filled this place would rule over right and reason.
Black lace and velvet grasped loosely at the pale skin that Demonia had come to know and love. Her bosom was covered by a lovely blood-red bodice, the silk ribbon flowing all the way to the floor. Black velvet dresses along with petticoat, parted wide in the front revealed her lace stockings and black heels. So she was the Goddess of the Underworld, what reason was there to be modest? Her reasoning’s for modesty died the day her heart shattered, along with many other attributes that had once been what dictated her thoughts and actions. But no longer…
“Your Majesty? You have been messaged by the Metatron. He has left this in your wake, M’lady.” The Darellite messenger had been standing at the entrance to her thrown room for quite some time, most probably awaiting a good time to open his mouth and ask for her attention. Her thoughts were clouded with the images of her former life. ‘Haphestus, look what you have reduced me too…’ Her heart, or what was left of it’s uncultured voice, whispered into her head, which was having a hard time ignoring.
“Oh. Has he now? Then we must not keep him waiting for our immediate reply..” Demonia stood, her long dress trailing behind her as she made her jovial way to her servant, who handed the scroll to her with a deep bow. Demonia smiled gracefully at him, and opened, so they both could see the words therein:
Dearest Demonia, Fake Goddess of Darkness…
It began, and Demonia and her servant snickered together like two school students reading over a love note. “It continues…”
We, in heaven, are most appalled that you have even decided that a war fought through the eyes of man was appropriate for thy situation. We must gather our heads and our dignity and meet one another face to face, and discuss what has been done and start arrangements immediately, pending that thou will step down as Lady of Shadows, and repent for thy sins. You MUST avoid contact with the humans you seek; they are nothing but fragments of a dieing race and shall fill your thoughts with ideas of redemption. For this, is beyond your control should you decide to continue this foolish nonsense. You have a fortnight to reply. We await your reply with heavenly desire.
Sincerely,
Metatron, Angel of Discord
The two of them stared at one another, and then back down at the letter before them, laughing as hard as they could muster. “Foolish?” Demonia managed through her sheer amusement. With that, she cleared her throat, took hold of the letter, and tore it to shreds. Her eyes were blood-shot, no longer white on either side of those crimson irises. Demonia turned her body towards the door, and staggered out, anger filling her every vein.
“I will show them. I will show them all!” She screamed.
“Your Majesty? Tell me what it is and I shall have it done.” Her servant yelled as he chased after her.
“I will show them all just how foolish the Goddess of the Underworld can be. They will pay… they will pay in blood and sorrow. But most of all, they will suffer! Every Angel in Heaven shall burn with fire and brimstone, and I will have Void’s heart in the palm of my hand… I can assure you of that…” Demonia had made her way to her bedroom, and slammed the door. She needed to calm down.
“Haphestus, may God have mercy on your immortal soul…” She whispered, as she sat upon her bed, her head lowered into her hands.
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