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Posted: Sat Feb 20, 2010 8:32 pm
(These are great stories~ ^^)
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Posted: Sun Feb 21, 2010 2:55 am
Your writing name: Unless I create a particular character for a game, I go by Hisoka.
Example of Writing: a game I started a bit ago on a whim. I can write formally if need be, but I tend to be a bit lazy *laughs*
Level you are: *shrugs* I won't say that I am ADVN. Not that cocky. *winks*
Level looking for: anyone who is willing to play heart
Genera's you'll do: I'm more for romance, but I'm game for anything. Most prefered is yuri.
Pet peeves in writing: I don't really have many pet peeves. As long the game goes on, I'm good. Just tell me when you're tired of playing or that something has come up. I promise to do the same. *smiles*
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Posted: Sat Jun 26, 2010 9:06 pm
Your writing name: Odd
Example of Writing: ‘This wire goes there… and I sew it up here…. And I think this just might…’ Jac laughed as a cluster of lights illuminated the room, she had just made a night light out of string, wires, a kidney, and several old gum wrappers. Impossible? Not in the least. Just don’t expect her to explain how it works. Jac’s eyes examined her newest creation for any future kinks. Okay, so supplies was low, but it kept her form boredom. She picked up the shining object, an outcome of her day’s work and moved it over beside a small box. Inside this bow were several still born puppies. 6, to be exact. Each one had been dismembered and sewn back together that day. And each on was now yipping and scratching, all very hungry and all very cute. Jac was thinking about giving one to the strange new girl who had attached herself to that Loki boy. But then again, Loki might eat it. You never know with cats. Jac tried to speak to the dogs, to calm them. That didn’t really work out to well. “Th-th-th…er-e th-e-r-re. It’s-s all r-r-ight….” She whispered, biting her lip. She liked these animals, the ones that didn’t change, the ones that she made. They were hers, and would never look at her oddly when she mumbled. They just loved her, for letting them live. She glanced around her room. There was a mirror, but she couldn’t even see her reflection. It was covered in pictures. Her pictures. She made a make-shift dark room a few years ago, for her enjoyment. Photography was a love of hers. As well as Music, and debates. It was the skill of an educated argument and the expression through words that drew her to it. She would tend to eavesdrop on the drunken quarrels of carnival-goers, interested in what they had to say. It was probably a habit out of which she wish she could say what she thought as easily, but for now Jac looked pass that whim, and decided it was time to find her new act some food.
Level you are: Int/Adv Level looking for: Int/Adv, and IMAGINATIVE. Genera's you'll do: Any. As long as they are interesting. Pet peeves in writing: no spell check. cliche themes? I dunno.... i mean they can be fun if done right....
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Posted: Tue Jul 06, 2010 7:32 pm
[Your writing name:;Please, call me Roze
Example of Writing:; didyoureallyjustreadthis ғ яαηcєscα я σ≿є ι ssαcs ✚Francesca stared at the asylum as her adoptive parents parked the car in front. She tightened the strap on her over the shoulder bag and then opened the car door. Okay what do I do next? Francesca was used to asking herself questions. It was the only way she remembered anything. In fact, there were three questions she had to ask herself everytime she woke in the morning. 'What's my name?' 'Where am I?' and 'What happened yesterday?'
✚My luggage.She suddenly remembered. "Dad could you please pop the trunk."That's the right phrase, right? I think so. The trunk popped open and she grabbed her suitcase liftting it out of the car."Bye, mom. Bye, dad." They each responded with their own waves as Franny closed the trunk and her car door.
✚She cotinued to wave as the car drove off back to the Issacs' house. Once they were out of sight she turned, slowly, towards the building where she would be living. The towers seemed to stare down at her as she walked towards through the gates, towards the main building. Coldness enveloped her as she walked in and she wondered how highthey had the air conditioner.
✚She walked to the front desk to retrieve her room key. She was informedthat she'd have a roommate. Hmm, I wonder what she'll be like. She walked around looking for her room after turning down the extremely bland hallway, labelled 'Ward 1'. It took her a while but she finally found her room. The door was open, which meant her roommate was already here.
✚Francesca walked into the room and looked around. There was a window and two beds. One was occupied by a girl about her age who was unpacking."Hi I'm Francesca,you can call me Franny if you want. What's your name?"she asked, sounding only half interested. She began unpacking taking in her bland surroundings. Each out fit she took out of her suitcase was put on its own hanger and everything was neatly organised. It only took her a few minutes to unpack clothes for the next three weeks. ιғ σηℓч ι cσυℓ∂ яεɱεɱвεя Level you are:; INTR
Level looking for:; INTR/ADVN
Genres you'll do:;Anything but SCFI/SRS
Pet peeves in writing Things that will make me want to kill you:; -God-modding -Cht spk/Txt tlk or whatever you wanna call it -One-liners -Mary-Sue/Gary-Stu -Lack of Grammar/Spelling/Puncuation -People who don't read the posts before theirs -Immaturity -Spamming/Flaming -People who join RP's and never post -People who leave RP's without telling the other RPers -Humorlesness (it's probably not a word, but you know what I mean)]
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Posted: Wed Jul 07, 2010 7:20 pm
Your writing name:Sable, Darian, Demetri, AriExample of Writing:Alice of The Abyss Airi stared at Aiden and smiled "I'll be there," she blushed twirling a bit of her hair around her finger. Her wings twitched in the light cool breeze that came from the ever opening door to the courtyard.
"I have more bruises Aiden, My mother threw me against a table my arms littered with bruises what am I going to tell the school nurse you know todays the physical examination.." she whined worried and looked around noticing the stares.
Her hand went strait up to try and smooth her wings back on her head. "Why do i have to have wings on my head?" She murmured to herself. Lukas smiled as he saw Aiden approach Airi if anyone knows Airi it would be him. He sighed and turned to a teacher who was asking that her students begin studing by reading the history book. "Livin it up a little and its a deal, put some fun wordcrosses or word searchs, just make sure the students have fun while they're participating." he smiled. Level you are:BGNR/INTRLevel looking for:BGNR/INTRGenera's you'll do: anything as long as it has a plot and a twistPet peeves in writing:nothing except plotless stories
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Posted: Thu Jul 08, 2010 11:16 am
Your writing name:Michaela, Kayla what ever is better for you
Example of Writing:Lil was born in inner city New York, not the greatest place to raise a kid her mom was a meth addict and often hit Lil when she did something wrong Lil’s older brother Jerome was in a gang and ofter left in the middle of the night in a gang fight. When Lil was 16 her mother got arrested and put in jail for drugs. By then Lil was in a gang of her own with other girls her age then a year later her brother was killed by a police in a shoot out. Lil was forced to live by her self. For a year staying with members of her gang never visiting her mother. Present
Lil sighed walking through the ally way now 18 her red long hair falling in her face with her jeans torn vest and under shirt as she walked over to an deserted warehouse as she walked in seeing other girls from her gang sitting in a semi circle counting money from a small gas station they just robed as Lil came over sitting next to one of the girls hearing them all chatter about different things as they split the money everyone getting some as Lil started to talk to them but stopped shushing them “You guys hear that?” She said quietly as sirens blared from outside “s**t” Lil said as all them got up and ran different directions as Lil ran out the back door cutting her arm on the door as she quickly ran down two blocks and around the corner bumping into a guy standing there knocking them both down as she quickly grabs him hearing sirens as she pulls him into an alley covering his mouth as the police cars pass as she sighs and lets go of him "Sorry" She said
Level you are: Inter
Level looking for: Inter, but Begners fine
Genera's you'll do:Anything with a good story line
Pet peeves in writing: -I'm not the best speller but please try your best -Text talk -Droping the story line without notice -Not being clear on the story
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Posted: Sun Sep 11, 2011 10:55 pm
Your writing name: Varies. Recent ones are Jacob, Leo, Joseph, Darren.
Example of Writing: "NO!"
He jumped up and shouted, trembling violently. "I'm not going to a hospital. No, no I'm leaving. I'm leaving far, far away! You don't want me here and I can tell, goddammit you're -- you're nothing. You're just like all of the others, and you . . . I don't want to stay here with you, with your stupid fake smiles and your, your..."
Joseph was at a loss. What was left? Alfred was gone. Timmy didn't make any sense, refused to give him answers with biting responses... why was Joseph acting like such a child?
"Then don't cry."
Maybe you push people away.
"I don't cry. And I do push people away. But I don't do it by myself. Other people push me away too." It was still raining heavily outside, and he fought the urge to sprint out of the house and step into moving traffic now. He wanted to leave and search for Alfred's soul, hope that it was just a Where's Waldo game. He wanted to...somehow just ask for forgiveness. Ask for some sort of comfort, some sort of repentance and somehow show his love. But love -- he could barely fathom it, or explain it. Words were meaningless. God, he had hoped that somehow Al could feel it in their sex. But who could?
No, not when Joseph beat him senseless some nights. You couldn't feel the love in that even if you were Oprah.
His mind kept wandering, and he really just wanted to get away from . . . Timmy. Something just wasn't right about being near him, especially since Joseph had a nagging in the back of his mind that he was the cause of Alfred's death. "It's not like I don't know anything about my past, either. I know who I was -- who I am, what I've done . . . and by the sounds of it, you know too. By the sounds of it, you don't want me here either, and I don't blame you at all, alright? But sitting here telling me that it's okay to talk to you and open up right before destroying the conversation whenever I try to bring up how I feel, since I tend to rarely do that anyway, isn't going to help me." He paused, and suddenly he felt quite sad -- it was visible on his face, too.
Was it some sort of pity, maybe? Hell, Tommy -- er, Timmy, he was pretty sure -- had a sucky life at the moment too. God forbid he knew about his relationship with Alfred, because then it would be three-fold worse. But his bitching didn't help anything, and even if he did figure out that something was incredibly wrong about what kind of bullshit that Tim here was feeding him, he couldn't do anything about it at the moment even though the two of them were in mutual dissatisfaction with one another. No, for the sake of Timmy and himself he had to play it off like nothing,
Scarfing down the last bits of his sandwich and downing it with coke, he felt a bit gross afterwards and quickly regretted it. "Thanks for the food," he managed out, "I'll go upstairs, and, uh, keep myself busy."
Joseph quickly left, not knowing what exactly to do -- something to make him look sane, anyway, so he didn't have to go to a psychiatrist. He went back into the room, looked through his bag for his sketchbook, and sat on the floor, his back leaning on the edge of the bed, opening it up again. He flipped through the pages of sketches of Alfred, unable to shake himself from the odd reality that Timmy looked eerily identical to the man he had drawn so many times. He had often described Alfred's looks in his journal before . . .
Speaking of his journal, where was it?
Level you are: ADVN? I guess.
Level looking for: INTR - ADVN
Genres you'll do: Errything.
Pet peeves in writing: - One liners - Characters without depth - Mary Su's. - Illiteracy - Leaving without notifying me - People who think they're literate. [And then they're not.] - Sex for funzies plot - Falling in love at first sight. [Come on.] - RPs that demand "pretty" posts. I'll join it, but the entire idea of decorating your layout and posting technique just so that they'll take up half of the page does not attract me in any way.
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