Home
Search
Log inDeserted | Open | PG-13
3 posters
Page 1 of 1
Deserted | Open | PG-13
Wormgod Thu Feb 07, 2013 1:22 pm
December 21st is a very famous date. The world was supposed to end, so many people decided to go out with a bang and have really huge parties. You went to one of these parties with many people from Westwood, your high school. It was an amazing party; so good, you don't remember going home.
You woke up on the floor of your bedroom with a horrible headache. Too much candy and too little water left you with horrible dehydration. You slowly stand and stumble out of the room, gulping down some water. There was no school today, since it was the Winter Break, so you have nothing to do and take time to wake up.
A few cups of coffee later, and you realize that your house is unusually quiet. It is already noon-where are your parents? Usually they would be awake by now. You look around the house, very confused. You find some signs that they were here-lights still on, an unmade bed, and a cup of Sprite on the bedstand, but no parents.
You leave the house and see many other confused people; all young. They wander the carless streets, confused, looking for some signs of adults. You look at the skyline just as the city lights dim and a faraway explosion marks the end of the power plant.
The apocalypse did happen, and it took all adults.
Last edited by Wormgod on Thu Feb 07, 2013 1:40 pm; edited 1 time in total
Wormgod- Admin
- Posts : 256
Join date : 2013-02-02
Location : Austin, Texas, USA -
Rules and Forms
Wormgod Thu Feb 07, 2013 1:39 pm
- My site and roleplaying rules apply.
- The rating is PG-13; there may be references to alcohol and tobacco, mild cursing, and mild violence.
- One paragraph per post, please.
- Only four characters per person, please.
- Read every post. Not to is very rude, and could leave your or someone else behind.
- Have fun!
- The rating is PG-13; there may be references to alcohol and tobacco, mild cursing, and mild violence.
- One paragraph per post, please.
- Only four characters per person, please.
- Read every post. Not to is very rude, and could leave your or someone else behind.
- Have fun!
- Code:
You can edit this form and make it pretty, but don't delete anything. (Other than parenthesis, of course! :cat: )
Username:
Name:
Age: (Between 12 and 18)
Gender:
Appearance:
Personality: (Can be RP'ed)
History: (Can be RP'ed)
Other:
Last edited by Wormgod on Sun Feb 10, 2013 12:55 am; edited 1 time in total
Wormgod- Admin
- Posts : 256
Join date : 2013-02-02
Location : Austin, Texas, USA -
Member List
Wormgod Thu Feb 07, 2013 1:39 pm
Phoebe Sophie Jones - Wormgod - Owner
Vernia Ostraides - Weredrakka
Ciaran Jasper Fairchild - ☽Malkit☾
Soleil Amelia Fairchild - ☽Malkit☾
Vernia Ostraides - Weredrakka
Ciaran Jasper Fairchild - ☽Malkit☾
Soleil Amelia Fairchild - ☽Malkit☾
Last edited by Wormgod on Fri Mar 01, 2013 11:55 pm; edited 1 time in total
Wormgod- Admin
- Posts : 256
Join date : 2013-02-02
Location : Austin, Texas, USA -
Re: Deserted | Open | PG-13
Weredrakka Mon Feb 11, 2013 9:37 pm
Username: Weredrakka
Name: Verina Ostraides
Age: 15
Gender: Female
Appearance: A good way to describe Verina would be lanky, yet comfortable with that. She is on the taller end of the spectrum, standing at about 5'7", and uses her height to her advantage to intimidate those who would intimidate her. She has the kind of physique one would expect of a long-distance runner whose specialty is running in the worst of conditions, or of a backpacker who spends months in the complete wilderness. Her face is aquiline, with a touch of resilient regality to it, creating a proud look that often got her in trouble for insolence at school before. Verina's hair is technically a very deep brown with faint, natural, red, black, and amber highlights, although most assume she has black hair because of initial coloration. Her eyes are an intense, deep blue, lending her a very piercing--and almost hungry--look. She doesn't have much in the way of a chest, although she doesn't seem to mind at all; her focus is keeping her musculature lean and defined, without looking like a bodybuilder.
In terms of dress, Verina, when given her druthers, likes to wear fairly well-worn, skintight, under-layers, usually in black, with long tunic-dresses over the under-layer. She can also be found in a t-shirt, generally displaying a horror or obscure science-fiction reference, and jeans. Verina wears incredibly beat-up black Doc Martens everywhere she goes that requires shoes; if shoes are not required, she often chooses not to wear them.
Personality: In a world where so many people's personalities do not match their physical body, Verina stands apart by her mind fitting her strangely-built body. She has a fondness for analyzing the human species, both in its successes, and in its failures, and considers making people think about their assumptions a hobby. She is not always kind in this behavior, however, and was disciplined repeatedly in school for what was reported as bullying, even though it was just her aforementioned 'hobby'. She also enjoys science, finding ecology and genetics in her top areas of enjoyment (she considers evolution obvious, and often wonders how people could think otherwise). Verina is fairly average at mathematics, but she has fallen partially into the trap of thinking she's no good, as she was compared to others when she was younger. She has a tendency to speak, and to write, using an excess of rather uncommon words, much the annoyance of those around her, although she can also use the vernacular (she, however, will never use words such as yolo, or swag; she considers them foolish), and has no real issues with cursing.
However, like just about every other teenager that has been, is, or will be on the planet, she is not mentally perfect. Like many other people of her age, she is prone to long states of melancholy, which were usually triggered by her gradual learning that so many people were genuinely cruel, or at least very unkind, for fun. Another topic of her melancholy is the realization that people are apathetic, and are, as a whole, unwilling to change the things they have always done, even if their resistance to change will kill them.
Speaking of cruelty, however, Verina's name, which means 'conquest through battle', is not without a fair amount of accuracy. Verina's temper is on a long rope of patience much of the time, but she has her limits, like us all. She is not always the most patient with those who incur her annoyance, and she has a tendency to snap into a rather unkind state of mind when very much annoyed. She is willing to forgive offenses done to her own person twice (more if she cares about the person), but shows no tolerance towards those who have crossed her personal lines. Lighter offenses, she'll just scream at the offender, but she is not above starting a fight if need be.
(Due to my inability to stick to the personality section form to save my life, this is subject to change, although it will likely remain somewhat similar. Just so everyone knows.)
History: It stands to reason that, by even just her appearance, Verina did not come from a home that had everything she needed. She grew up in a rather shattered home, with an abusive and alcoholic mother who tried to control her every movement half of the time, and a kind father the other half. Neither parent had too terribly much money, so she scrounged whatever money she could off of the ground, or just by going without much in the way of frivolous things.
(Again, this will be expanded upon as the roleplay moves forward.)
Other: Verina was nicknamed 'Worm' by her parents, and takes some measure of amusement from the nickname, although it's unlikely that anyone else would know said nickname. She also trained for a while in karate on a scholarship, and misses her teachers dearly, now that they're gone. Another little oddity about her is that she has an inordinate fondness for the scent and taste of cinnamon, and actually has completed the cinnamon challenge at least twice, almost seeming to enjoy it, and having no ill effects by her consumption of the spice.
Name: Verina Ostraides
Age: 15
Gender: Female
Appearance: A good way to describe Verina would be lanky, yet comfortable with that. She is on the taller end of the spectrum, standing at about 5'7", and uses her height to her advantage to intimidate those who would intimidate her. She has the kind of physique one would expect of a long-distance runner whose specialty is running in the worst of conditions, or of a backpacker who spends months in the complete wilderness. Her face is aquiline, with a touch of resilient regality to it, creating a proud look that often got her in trouble for insolence at school before. Verina's hair is technically a very deep brown with faint, natural, red, black, and amber highlights, although most assume she has black hair because of initial coloration. Her eyes are an intense, deep blue, lending her a very piercing--and almost hungry--look. She doesn't have much in the way of a chest, although she doesn't seem to mind at all; her focus is keeping her musculature lean and defined, without looking like a bodybuilder.
In terms of dress, Verina, when given her druthers, likes to wear fairly well-worn, skintight, under-layers, usually in black, with long tunic-dresses over the under-layer. She can also be found in a t-shirt, generally displaying a horror or obscure science-fiction reference, and jeans. Verina wears incredibly beat-up black Doc Martens everywhere she goes that requires shoes; if shoes are not required, she often chooses not to wear them.
Personality: In a world where so many people's personalities do not match their physical body, Verina stands apart by her mind fitting her strangely-built body. She has a fondness for analyzing the human species, both in its successes, and in its failures, and considers making people think about their assumptions a hobby. She is not always kind in this behavior, however, and was disciplined repeatedly in school for what was reported as bullying, even though it was just her aforementioned 'hobby'. She also enjoys science, finding ecology and genetics in her top areas of enjoyment (she considers evolution obvious, and often wonders how people could think otherwise). Verina is fairly average at mathematics, but she has fallen partially into the trap of thinking she's no good, as she was compared to others when she was younger. She has a tendency to speak, and to write, using an excess of rather uncommon words, much the annoyance of those around her, although she can also use the vernacular (she, however, will never use words such as yolo, or swag; she considers them foolish), and has no real issues with cursing.
However, like just about every other teenager that has been, is, or will be on the planet, she is not mentally perfect. Like many other people of her age, she is prone to long states of melancholy, which were usually triggered by her gradual learning that so many people were genuinely cruel, or at least very unkind, for fun. Another topic of her melancholy is the realization that people are apathetic, and are, as a whole, unwilling to change the things they have always done, even if their resistance to change will kill them.
Speaking of cruelty, however, Verina's name, which means 'conquest through battle', is not without a fair amount of accuracy. Verina's temper is on a long rope of patience much of the time, but she has her limits, like us all. She is not always the most patient with those who incur her annoyance, and she has a tendency to snap into a rather unkind state of mind when very much annoyed. She is willing to forgive offenses done to her own person twice (more if she cares about the person), but shows no tolerance towards those who have crossed her personal lines. Lighter offenses, she'll just scream at the offender, but she is not above starting a fight if need be.
(Due to my inability to stick to the personality section form to save my life, this is subject to change, although it will likely remain somewhat similar. Just so everyone knows.)
History: It stands to reason that, by even just her appearance, Verina did not come from a home that had everything she needed. She grew up in a rather shattered home, with an abusive and alcoholic mother who tried to control her every movement half of the time, and a kind father the other half. Neither parent had too terribly much money, so she scrounged whatever money she could off of the ground, or just by going without much in the way of frivolous things.
(Again, this will be expanded upon as the roleplay moves forward.)
Other: Verina was nicknamed 'Worm' by her parents, and takes some measure of amusement from the nickname, although it's unlikely that anyone else would know said nickname. She also trained for a while in karate on a scholarship, and misses her teachers dearly, now that they're gone. Another little oddity about her is that she has an inordinate fondness for the scent and taste of cinnamon, and actually has completed the cinnamon challenge at least twice, almost seeming to enjoy it, and having no ill effects by her consumption of the spice.
Weredrakka- Posts : 244
Join date : 2013-02-06
Location : Somewhere between Sietch Tabr, and where the dragons are.
Wormgod- Admin
- Posts : 256
Join date : 2013-02-02
Location : Austin, Texas, USA -
Re: Deserted | Open | PG-13
☽Malkit☾ Sun Feb 17, 2013 3:45 pm
Username: Malkit
Name: These two, who you will very rarely see apart, are Ciaran Jasper Fairchild and Soleil Amelia Fairchild. Their names are quite fitting and they are quite fond of them--neither have any nicknames, really, so you'd better get used to their strange given names. Ciaran, the older, has an old Celtic name--it's the original spelling of the more popular modern name Kieran (KERE-rin). Soleil's name is French and, being French, is pronounced soul-LAY, though is generally said as sah-LAY. She especially despises anybody mispronouncing her name. She will make it very clear that it is not sol-leel, as she has been called too often.
Age: The Fairchild twins are sixteen years old currently, born May 29th.
Gender: As I'm sure is very obvious (and I wouldn't suggest asking this to their faces), Ciaran is male and Soleil is female.
Appearance: Soleil (above) and Ciaran (below) are very similar looks-wise, being twins. Both have tall, lithe figures, Ciaran standing a few inches over six-foot and Soleil hitting just about 5'8. The twins share the same thick blonde hair--though Ciaran prefers to keep his relatively short, while Soleil leaves hers in long curls to her mid-back--and eyes that have often been compared to the color of dawn. They have the fair skin tone of their mother's side of the family, hailing from Ireland, and both are admittedly attractive.
In terms of fashion, the Fairchild twins have very different styles. Ciaran prefers to keep it simple, in jeans and t-shirts whenever he can, usually with his beat-up gray Vans unless he can get away with not wearing shoes. Soleil, though, puts a bit more effort into her dress, most often appearing in loose tops, skirts, and dresses. Her signature accessory is her silver dream-catcher pendant, adorned with a single blue bead.
Personality: The twins are exact opposites, personality-wise. Their names give a big clue into that, Soleil with her happy-go-lucky attitude and Ciaran with his quiet, dark personality. Despite that, though, they're very close and get along quite well. They rely on each other for everything, often even finishing each other's sentences, and are rarely apart. Soleil is the bright and bubbly girl, always in a good mood and willing to help someone out or lighten the mood. Between the two of them, she's the light and warmth. However, that warmth goes two ways. Though she's usually very friendly and loving, Soleil has her temper as well. She isn't nearly as merciless and violent as her brother when he snaps, but let's just say that you'd be wise to be careful of being burned. Soleil is a bit hotheaded but calms down just as quickly as she gets worked up.
Ciaran, on the other hand, is the dark and cold of the two. He prefers to stay in the background, not saying much if anything. It's very rare that he talks, and it's usually only to his sister. Ciaran is cold and very hard to get close to; few people have managed it. He keeps his walls up and by time you manage to break a piece down, he builds it back up quickly and shuts you out. To get him to open up, you'll have to knock them all down at once--not an easy task. Soleil swears up and down that her brother is a good guy, but because of his attitude, not many people believe her. Ciaran, like his sister, has a nasty temper. Though, unlike the tongue-lashings she gives, he takes the silent, quick, and deadly approach. It lasts just as long as Soleil's outbursts and does just as much damage, though in a very different way. Ciaran is hard to read and doesn't tend to volunteer the information, making it difficult to know what he thinks about anything.
The main thing the two have in common is music; neither can survive without it. Though Soleil is more open about it, both play guitar and write their own music. Very, very few people know that little fact about Ciaran and he's not keen for anybody else to find out.
History: orn May 29th, 1996 outside McCall, Idaho, Ciaran and Soleil Fairchild were raised on a horse ranch outside town. Home-schooled through eighth grade, they never had much interaction with kids their age. Because of it, they're very close but a bit awkward with other people. The twins grew to be very in touch with nature and animals and less in touch with city life. They're very used to being outside with the horses and the wind--not stuck inside. Jessica and Thomas Fairchild, their parents, were high school sweethearts and married just after graduation, the twins arriving almost two years later. They wanted to have more children--they planned a big family--but when the twins were a year old, Jessica was killed in a riding accident. The horse had to be put down, as well. Ciaran and Soleil never knew their mother because of it, and their father was too heartbroken to mention her at all. He took all traces of her away. The twins were practically raised by a friend of the family who started coming around more and more often after Jessica died, Marianne. Their father kept himself buried in the ranch, all but ignoring his children. Marianne home-schooled them because they lived too far from town for it to be practical for them to go to school there, and the twins adopted her as their mother. When they were fifteen, the summer between eighth and ninth grades, their father sold the ranch and the horses and dragged the twins here. Both fought tooth and nail to stay, Soleil especially, but it was no use.
Other: N/A
Name: These two, who you will very rarely see apart, are Ciaran Jasper Fairchild and Soleil Amelia Fairchild. Their names are quite fitting and they are quite fond of them--neither have any nicknames, really, so you'd better get used to their strange given names. Ciaran, the older, has an old Celtic name--it's the original spelling of the more popular modern name Kieran (KERE-rin). Soleil's name is French and, being French, is pronounced soul-LAY, though is generally said as sah-LAY. She especially despises anybody mispronouncing her name. She will make it very clear that it is not sol-leel, as she has been called too often.
Age: The Fairchild twins are sixteen years old currently, born May 29th.
Gender: As I'm sure is very obvious (and I wouldn't suggest asking this to their faces), Ciaran is male and Soleil is female.
Appearance: Soleil (above) and Ciaran (below) are very similar looks-wise, being twins. Both have tall, lithe figures, Ciaran standing a few inches over six-foot and Soleil hitting just about 5'8. The twins share the same thick blonde hair--though Ciaran prefers to keep his relatively short, while Soleil leaves hers in long curls to her mid-back--and eyes that have often been compared to the color of dawn. They have the fair skin tone of their mother's side of the family, hailing from Ireland, and both are admittedly attractive.
In terms of fashion, the Fairchild twins have very different styles. Ciaran prefers to keep it simple, in jeans and t-shirts whenever he can, usually with his beat-up gray Vans unless he can get away with not wearing shoes. Soleil, though, puts a bit more effort into her dress, most often appearing in loose tops, skirts, and dresses. Her signature accessory is her silver dream-catcher pendant, adorned with a single blue bead.
Personality: The twins are exact opposites, personality-wise. Their names give a big clue into that, Soleil with her happy-go-lucky attitude and Ciaran with his quiet, dark personality. Despite that, though, they're very close and get along quite well. They rely on each other for everything, often even finishing each other's sentences, and are rarely apart. Soleil is the bright and bubbly girl, always in a good mood and willing to help someone out or lighten the mood. Between the two of them, she's the light and warmth. However, that warmth goes two ways. Though she's usually very friendly and loving, Soleil has her temper as well. She isn't nearly as merciless and violent as her brother when he snaps, but let's just say that you'd be wise to be careful of being burned. Soleil is a bit hotheaded but calms down just as quickly as she gets worked up.
Ciaran, on the other hand, is the dark and cold of the two. He prefers to stay in the background, not saying much if anything. It's very rare that he talks, and it's usually only to his sister. Ciaran is cold and very hard to get close to; few people have managed it. He keeps his walls up and by time you manage to break a piece down, he builds it back up quickly and shuts you out. To get him to open up, you'll have to knock them all down at once--not an easy task. Soleil swears up and down that her brother is a good guy, but because of his attitude, not many people believe her. Ciaran, like his sister, has a nasty temper. Though, unlike the tongue-lashings she gives, he takes the silent, quick, and deadly approach. It lasts just as long as Soleil's outbursts and does just as much damage, though in a very different way. Ciaran is hard to read and doesn't tend to volunteer the information, making it difficult to know what he thinks about anything.
The main thing the two have in common is music; neither can survive without it. Though Soleil is more open about it, both play guitar and write their own music. Very, very few people know that little fact about Ciaran and he's not keen for anybody else to find out.
History: orn May 29th, 1996 outside McCall, Idaho, Ciaran and Soleil Fairchild were raised on a horse ranch outside town. Home-schooled through eighth grade, they never had much interaction with kids their age. Because of it, they're very close but a bit awkward with other people. The twins grew to be very in touch with nature and animals and less in touch with city life. They're very used to being outside with the horses and the wind--not stuck inside. Jessica and Thomas Fairchild, their parents, were high school sweethearts and married just after graduation, the twins arriving almost two years later. They wanted to have more children--they planned a big family--but when the twins were a year old, Jessica was killed in a riding accident. The horse had to be put down, as well. Ciaran and Soleil never knew their mother because of it, and their father was too heartbroken to mention her at all. He took all traces of her away. The twins were practically raised by a friend of the family who started coming around more and more often after Jessica died, Marianne. Their father kept himself buried in the ranch, all but ignoring his children. Marianne home-schooled them because they lived too far from town for it to be practical for them to go to school there, and the twins adopted her as their mother. When they were fifteen, the summer between eighth and ninth grades, their father sold the ranch and the horses and dragged the twins here. Both fought tooth and nail to stay, Soleil especially, but it was no use.
Other: N/A
☽Malkit☾- Posts : 16
Join date : 2013-02-11
Location : The Castle in the Goblin City at the center of the Labyrinth
Re: Deserted | Open | PG-13
Wormgod Fri Mar 01, 2013 11:53 pm
Everybody is accepted! Does anyone else feel like joining, or making more characters? If not, we can start.
Wormgod- Admin
- Posts : 256
Join date : 2013-02-02
Location : Austin, Texas, USA -
Re: Deserted | Open | PG-13
Weredrakka Sat Mar 02, 2013 9:35 am
((I'm good where I am, in terms of characters, if everyone else is. I might add someone if it seems that we need someone, but that would be later.))
Weredrakka- Posts : 244
Join date : 2013-02-06
Location : Somewhere between Sietch Tabr, and where the dragons are.
☽Malkit☾- Posts : 16
Join date : 2013-02-11
Location : The Castle in the Goblin City at the center of the Labyrinth
Opening Post
Wormgod Sat Mar 02, 2013 1:25 pm
((Cool. Lemme get the first post up...))
Phoebe woke up with sunlight shining directly into her eyes and a pounding headache. She shifted onto her side facing away from her window and opened her eyes.
As usual, her room was a mess. Clothes, blankets, and school supplies were splayed around the floor in a random mess. Her desk was covered in papers, book, art supplies, and stuffed animals. The bookshelf next to it displayed empty bottles of alcohol that her parents (and sometimes she) drank and kept, finding their labels interesting.
She rolled out of bed and reached around to shut the curtains. The room fell into darkness, and Phoebe popped some Tylenol and downed a half-empty bottle of water. It had to be at least noon. That party last night must have been insane...She remembered some of it, but didn't remember getting home and going to bed. Maybe she passed out and one of her buddies drove her home.
It was a little creepy not knowing how she got in her bed, but at least she was wearing the same clothes.
Phoebe stumbled into the living room, pausing to regain her sight after little spots appeared. The room remained untouched from yesterday; in fact, the tv was still on, and two cups sat on the coffee table. In her state, she didn't care much and prepared breakfast.
Five minutes later, she flipped through the channels, trying to find one that worked. Instead, they all showed that "test pattern" and emitted a horrible tone, "Dammit." She cursed and flipped to another one.
"Dammit. Dammit. Dammit! What the....Bleh." Phoebe grumbled. She finished her breakfast and tossed it in the sink, then quickly brushed her teeth and hair and left her house. If the tv wasn't working, she'd have to find somewhere else to have fun.
Everybody else apparently had the same thought, cause all of the apartment complex's kids were outside. Most of the kids were playing street hockey, but some were just standing around talking. Weirdly enough, none of their parents were there. Phoebe ignored that and speedwalked past all of them, heading for the streets and in the general direction of her school.
Phoebe woke up with sunlight shining directly into her eyes and a pounding headache. She shifted onto her side facing away from her window and opened her eyes.
As usual, her room was a mess. Clothes, blankets, and school supplies were splayed around the floor in a random mess. Her desk was covered in papers, book, art supplies, and stuffed animals. The bookshelf next to it displayed empty bottles of alcohol that her parents (and sometimes she) drank and kept, finding their labels interesting.
She rolled out of bed and reached around to shut the curtains. The room fell into darkness, and Phoebe popped some Tylenol and downed a half-empty bottle of water. It had to be at least noon. That party last night must have been insane...She remembered some of it, but didn't remember getting home and going to bed. Maybe she passed out and one of her buddies drove her home.
It was a little creepy not knowing how she got in her bed, but at least she was wearing the same clothes.
Phoebe stumbled into the living room, pausing to regain her sight after little spots appeared. The room remained untouched from yesterday; in fact, the tv was still on, and two cups sat on the coffee table. In her state, she didn't care much and prepared breakfast.
Five minutes later, she flipped through the channels, trying to find one that worked. Instead, they all showed that "test pattern" and emitted a horrible tone, "Dammit." She cursed and flipped to another one.
"Dammit. Dammit. Dammit! What the....Bleh." Phoebe grumbled. She finished her breakfast and tossed it in the sink, then quickly brushed her teeth and hair and left her house. If the tv wasn't working, she'd have to find somewhere else to have fun.
Everybody else apparently had the same thought, cause all of the apartment complex's kids were outside. Most of the kids were playing street hockey, but some were just standing around talking. Weirdly enough, none of their parents were there. Phoebe ignored that and speedwalked past all of them, heading for the streets and in the general direction of her school.
Wormgod- Admin
- Posts : 256
Join date : 2013-02-02
Location : Austin, Texas, USA -
Re: Deserted | Open | PG-13
☽Malkit☾ Sat Mar 02, 2013 3:50 pm
Soleil Fairchild was an early bird, unlike her brother. Despite the wild party they'd both attended the night before, Soleil was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at the crack of dawn, hooking her iPod up to the speakers in the living room and blasting Jason Derulo.
"Turn it off!" Ciaran shouted from his room. Soleil laughed and wandered into the kitchen, scouring the pantry for something to eat. There was a slamming door and moments later Ciaran emerged, raking a hand through his messy hair. "Jesus, Sol," he muttered, turning off the music and heading into the kitchen himself.
Soleil had paused her search for breakfast, pouting. "I like that song. I'm ridin' solo, solo--" Ciaran clamped a hand over her mouth, cutting her off, and growled. Soleil ducked away with a mischievous grin and pulled a box of PopTarts off the top shelf. "Someone's in a bad mood this morning," she commented as she dropped two in the toaster. But Ciaran had reverted back to his usual silence, merely shrugging before vanishing back to his bedroom.
Though Soleil never noticed the strange absence of their parents, her twin did, though he never pointed it out. Ciaran took note of many things that happened, things that some others never realized were there. Half an hour later, the pair had left and were wandering down the street in search of something entertaining, at Soleil's request.
(Awful first post...I'm sorry...I have no muse today)
"Turn it off!" Ciaran shouted from his room. Soleil laughed and wandered into the kitchen, scouring the pantry for something to eat. There was a slamming door and moments later Ciaran emerged, raking a hand through his messy hair. "Jesus, Sol," he muttered, turning off the music and heading into the kitchen himself.
Soleil had paused her search for breakfast, pouting. "I like that song. I'm ridin' solo, solo--" Ciaran clamped a hand over her mouth, cutting her off, and growled. Soleil ducked away with a mischievous grin and pulled a box of PopTarts off the top shelf. "Someone's in a bad mood this morning," she commented as she dropped two in the toaster. But Ciaran had reverted back to his usual silence, merely shrugging before vanishing back to his bedroom.
Though Soleil never noticed the strange absence of their parents, her twin did, though he never pointed it out. Ciaran took note of many things that happened, things that some others never realized were there. Half an hour later, the pair had left and were wandering down the street in search of something entertaining, at Soleil's request.
(Awful first post...I'm sorry...I have no muse today)
☽Malkit☾- Posts : 16
Join date : 2013-02-11
Location : The Castle in the Goblin City at the center of the Labyrinth
Re: Deserted | Open | PG-13
Weredrakka Sat Mar 02, 2013 10:11 pm
Waking up slowly, Verina gradually became aware of bright sunlight shining into her eyes, an unusual occurrence for a normal early riser. Groaning, she turned slightly away from the window, rubbing her forehead with a hand as she let her eyes slowly adjust to receiving visual impulses again.
Much to her relief, Verina had awakened in her room, mess and all. Biology reference materials and science-fiction novels were scattered about the floor to mingle with an ever-expanding pile of clothing she meant to fold and put away, but never actually got around to. A partially-assembled skeleton of a long-dead opossum grinned blankly up from the floor, flanked by a tube of Superglue, some wire, and a pair of pliers. A small jar of cinnamon sticks balanced precariously upon a tower of the Dune Chronicles. Seeing this mess, Verina smiled; this was her room, all the trappings of her existence consolidated in one place. It was comforting that, despite the fact that she couldn't remember how she got home, she had at least woken up in her room.
Motivated primarily by hunger, but also for need for a glass of water, she rolled out of bed, picking her way slowly through the mounds of debris scattered about the small room. Making her way to the kitchen, Verina's brow furrowed, blue eyes looking suspiciously about the room. Usually her father was up at this time of the morning, a time she had guessed to be around noon, judging by the intensity of the light. Deciding that he must have gone out, she grabbed a mug from the cupboard, filling it with cold water from the tap. Yawning, she drank half of the water, then splashed the rest in her face, the sudden cool impact startling her back into wakefulness.
Looking about herself with renewed and refreshed interest, Verina shook the water from her hair, now deeply concerned with what she saw about her. The kitchen was exactly as it had been when she left for that party the night previously, something that never happened, at least not at her father's house. "Something is very wrong here...." she muttered to herself, then went back into her room to get ready to go out, and find out what had happened.
Dressed now in her usual attire, her tunic of choice today a green and black one, Verina toyed with the idea of bringing one of her pocketknives with her, just in case she ran into trouble while she was checking out what had happened. Deciding that she wouldn't need a knife today, she pulled on her shoes, and walked out the door, making sure that she had her keys with her.
Emerging out onto the street, Verina was once again struck by that feeling of something being very, very deeply wrong. All the people out on the sidewalk were kids of all ages, but no-one there was over 21. "What the...?" she murmured, then walked out onto the street itself, looking around herself with a suspicious air. Deciding it was best to start moving, she started off down the road, looking for someone at least vaguely familiar.
Much to her relief, Verina had awakened in her room, mess and all. Biology reference materials and science-fiction novels were scattered about the floor to mingle with an ever-expanding pile of clothing she meant to fold and put away, but never actually got around to. A partially-assembled skeleton of a long-dead opossum grinned blankly up from the floor, flanked by a tube of Superglue, some wire, and a pair of pliers. A small jar of cinnamon sticks balanced precariously upon a tower of the Dune Chronicles. Seeing this mess, Verina smiled; this was her room, all the trappings of her existence consolidated in one place. It was comforting that, despite the fact that she couldn't remember how she got home, she had at least woken up in her room.
Motivated primarily by hunger, but also for need for a glass of water, she rolled out of bed, picking her way slowly through the mounds of debris scattered about the small room. Making her way to the kitchen, Verina's brow furrowed, blue eyes looking suspiciously about the room. Usually her father was up at this time of the morning, a time she had guessed to be around noon, judging by the intensity of the light. Deciding that he must have gone out, she grabbed a mug from the cupboard, filling it with cold water from the tap. Yawning, she drank half of the water, then splashed the rest in her face, the sudden cool impact startling her back into wakefulness.
Looking about herself with renewed and refreshed interest, Verina shook the water from her hair, now deeply concerned with what she saw about her. The kitchen was exactly as it had been when she left for that party the night previously, something that never happened, at least not at her father's house. "Something is very wrong here...." she muttered to herself, then went back into her room to get ready to go out, and find out what had happened.
Dressed now in her usual attire, her tunic of choice today a green and black one, Verina toyed with the idea of bringing one of her pocketknives with her, just in case she ran into trouble while she was checking out what had happened. Deciding that she wouldn't need a knife today, she pulled on her shoes, and walked out the door, making sure that she had her keys with her.
Emerging out onto the street, Verina was once again struck by that feeling of something being very, very deeply wrong. All the people out on the sidewalk were kids of all ages, but no-one there was over 21. "What the...?" she murmured, then walked out onto the street itself, looking around herself with a suspicious air. Deciding it was best to start moving, she started off down the road, looking for someone at least vaguely familiar.
Weredrakka- Posts : 244
Join date : 2013-02-06
Location : Somewhere between Sietch Tabr, and where the dragons are.
Re: Deserted | Open | PG-13
Wormgod Mon Mar 04, 2013 9:24 pm
As she walked along the one-lane road that lead to the nearby high school, Phoebe became increasingly aware that something was wrong. More and more kids--all under college age--were wandering around aimlessly with varying expressions. Some were happy, carefree, not noticing a thing in the world, and other seemed...Lost. Horribly worried, and very much strained. Phoebe tried to avoid them.
About a half block away from the school, a police car sat in the middle of the flat road, still but still functioning. Phoebe's jaw dropped. The headlights were still on, and she could see bags in the backseat. Someone had been driving this car, but at some point they left, and it slowed to a stop right there, in the middle of the street, begging to be stolen. With all the kids around, Phoebe wondered why no one tried to steal it.
Slowly, she moved on, heading closer to the campus. She could almost see it now--the twin tennis fields, the yard full of trees and funny little birds, and the big, glass arch that made up the front door. Behind the school was a great big parking lot where all sorts of kids hung out on the weekends. Anybody could hang there, cause it's a public place, and all the cars are gone, so there's a lot of free space to do whatever. Plus, many neighborhoods surrounded the campus, so there were lots of kids living nearby.
Phoebe crossed the street without bothering to look both ways. Down the sidewalk she spotted two blonde kids--probably siblings, and around her age. She felt a twinge of deja vu and wondered if she saw them at school before. It was hard to tell. The school held over thirteen hundred kids.
Phoebe looked the other way down the sidewalk. There was another kid, a girl with either dark brown or light black hair. She remembered that face better; somebody had introduced them a long time ago, maybe at a party, but they didn't meet after that. Phoebe flashed smile, then turned to the siblings and flashed another, and waited for them to reach her.
About a half block away from the school, a police car sat in the middle of the flat road, still but still functioning. Phoebe's jaw dropped. The headlights were still on, and she could see bags in the backseat. Someone had been driving this car, but at some point they left, and it slowed to a stop right there, in the middle of the street, begging to be stolen. With all the kids around, Phoebe wondered why no one tried to steal it.
Slowly, she moved on, heading closer to the campus. She could almost see it now--the twin tennis fields, the yard full of trees and funny little birds, and the big, glass arch that made up the front door. Behind the school was a great big parking lot where all sorts of kids hung out on the weekends. Anybody could hang there, cause it's a public place, and all the cars are gone, so there's a lot of free space to do whatever. Plus, many neighborhoods surrounded the campus, so there were lots of kids living nearby.
Phoebe crossed the street without bothering to look both ways. Down the sidewalk she spotted two blonde kids--probably siblings, and around her age. She felt a twinge of deja vu and wondered if she saw them at school before. It was hard to tell. The school held over thirteen hundred kids.
Phoebe looked the other way down the sidewalk. There was another kid, a girl with either dark brown or light black hair. She remembered that face better; somebody had introduced them a long time ago, maybe at a party, but they didn't meet after that. Phoebe flashed smile, then turned to the siblings and flashed another, and waited for them to reach her.
Wormgod- Admin
- Posts : 256
Join date : 2013-02-02
Location : Austin, Texas, USA -
Wormgod- Admin
- Posts : 256
Join date : 2013-02-02
Location : Austin, Texas, USA -
Similar topics» The Avengers: The Rise of Rage - Semi-Lit Avengers RP - Open
» .T.H.E.<>.N.U.M.B.E.R.<>.S.E.V.E.N. OPEN-Rated M for Mature
» a vigilante life [open] [pg-13]
» the r e b o r n | PG-13 | Generation Dead-based | Open
» Mod Applications Open - READ WHOLE POST FIRST
» .T.H.E.<>.N.U.M.B.E.R.<>.S.E.V.E.N. OPEN-Rated M for Mature
» a vigilante life [open] [pg-13]
» the r e b o r n | PG-13 | Generation Dead-based | Open
» Mod Applications Open - READ WHOLE POST FIRST
Page 1 of 1
Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum|
|
|