Oh, hello; I didn't hear you come in. Please excuse me, I'm barely dressed; where are my manners? My names Narcissism, but you can call me Narcissism, 'cause we're friends and all. This is going to be short and brief (And before you ask, yes, that is 'what she said'), because I really don't want to start rambling. It's like this one time, I was visiting my Aunt in London an- See, there I go again. Feel free to give me a firm slap across the face if I start doing that again; it wouldn't be the first time. There was this time at the Pub when-
*Insert Implied Virtual Slap*
Ouch! Okay, Okay, I get it.
So I'm looking for a Role-playing partner. Maybe someone about my age, quite tall, blonde, with a nice figu... Oh, sorry! I sometimes forget this isn't an online dating site; my mistake... Okay, I'll be serious now, because I'm starting to bore myself. So, like I said, I'm looking for a Role-playing partner. Personally, although I don't like the idea of labelling someone into a specific writing class, because we all fall into all of them at times, I'd say I'm pretty much advanced, in terms of this site. I'll provide a writing sample below this, and if you're interested in Role-playing with me, I'd ask that you do the same; it's just common curtsey, so we both know what we're working with. I'll post some of my interested below as well, just to give you an idea of what I'm looking for. Now, for a little about me; I'm Eighteen, soon to be nineteen (Ah, the pressures of being an adult!). I'm currently at College, whilst simultaneously working a part time job at a coffee shop, which has recently seemed more full time than part time, but it's all just money in the bank, right? That being said, I'd just like to say now that I'm not looking for anyone who is going to try to pressure me to post every day; it just isn't possible for me sometimes. I'm a busy person, and whilst I make a point of trying to get at least one post out a day (I can sometimes get a few out, depends on time-zones and such), please don't feel to need to message me after a day or so. If it's been a few days and I haven't said anything, message me and check what I'm doing, but don't pester; I'm not a dog. Or am I? No, I'm almost certain I'm not. Almost.
So, here's a few of my interests, in terms of Role-playing. First off, I prefer there to be at least a degree of romance in my Role-plays, or at least a deep character bond between characters. Other than that, I love fantasy, Science Fiction, Apocalyptic, Modern Realism, Medieval, Action... Horror! Ah, yes, I love a dark Role-play. Blood, gore; the lot. In fact, the darker the better; let's just make a whole role-play revolving around the colour black, how dark would that be? Well, very. But that's besides the point. You know what, actually, just drop me a message with any Role-play idea you have; if the plot is good, little else matters to me. But please, for the love of the almighty God, don't ask me to do a Hunger Games Role-play, because I'll probably die of a boredom haemorrhage before we even begin.
Writing Sample Below
It must have been three in the morning when he got the call; between the harsh, dim light of the alarm clock, or the bitterly cold coffee resting on his side table, it was difficult to tell. The slow drag out of bed, followed by getting into his greying black suit and clumsily applying his tie, fell exactly into his regular, monotonous routine that he had become accustomed to day in, day out; drag himself from bed, head to work, clock out at ten and hit the bar until he blacked out. Rinse, repeat. It was as though his life had turned to auto-pilot, no thinking required. An endless cycle of forgotten days and repressed memories. Perfect.
He didn’t bother to turn on any of the lights of his studio apartment; there was no need to harm his eye-sight further, and being this early in the morning, the dim street lights from the fogged street outsight provided enough light through his stained blinds for him to move around the crampt space, narrowly avoiding the countless unopened boxes, each labelled individually, untouched and collecting dust. He paid them no attention, instead reaching for his keys hanging on the loose nail protruding from his cracked, steam stained wall. He half considered leaving the door unlocked as he yanked the stiff door closed, shaking the lock to try and get the misshapen key to fit, but that wouldn’t fit in with the routine.
A gentle drizzle poured outside, as he finished the short three-story decent down the stairs, and opened the glass door to the streets. Pulling his jacket over his already scruffy hair, he scurried to his car, unlocked the door and climbed inside, the patter of the rain filling the inside. Instinctively, he turned the key into in the ignition a few times, waiting for the rattle of the engine, before beginning his journey. Half focused on the road, he scratched at the stubble covering his jaw and checked through the call again; an incident over at the state orphanage, but they hadn’t thought to inform him over the phone. Typical. It was a short, twenty minute drive out of the city, and other than the rumble in his stomach and the dry throat from the cold, almost metallic tasting coffee, he didn’t feel too bad, all things considered. Like usual, he had no idea how much he had drank last night before passing out on his bed, but by his count, he had left the bar by twelve, giving him at the most, two and a half hours sleep. Perfect. The only silver lining in it all was that he might possibly be permitted to clock out earlier that day, if he was lucky. Doubtful.
He resisted the urge to go through a twenty-four hour drive through for what would possibly be some of the greasiest food this side of the US, an action which his stomach would thank him for later. By the time he pulled his car out onto the inner state, he had successfully given up the prospect of getting a decent meal that day, and knew it would most likely fall to a microwaved roast, or something to that accord. He couldn’t decide which sounded less appetising, the roast or the greasy covered burger he almost had for his breakfast.
Twenty minutes goes by surprisingly quickly when you’re half asleep, and it was no different for him as he pulled from the inner state and onto the country lane, no sight of any light breaking from the horizon; it was the middle of winter, and the sun wouldn’t be rising for a few hours yet. The fields had almost become a swamp, the dirt seeming onto the road and the wind propelling the rain at fierce speeds. He could hardly make out the lights off in the distance, the repeating white and blue of what were surely the officers on scene. When he drove up, he was greeted by the sight of five of the city’s finest, as well as a few ambulances and even a fire-truck. Curious. His interest somewhat peaked, he stopped the engine and stood onto the wet gravel, his shoes almost slipping against the almost liquid surface. Almost immediately, he was greeted by Detective Mills, a co-worker of his.
“Detective Willis, how nice of you to join us this morning.” He chirped, the sarcasm clearly evident as he sipped the steaming coffee in his hands, safe from the harsh rain under the protection of his umbrella. Taking the coffee from his hands and pouring a decent portion of it down his cold, dry mouth, Willis moved underneath the umbrella, and began to walk towards the flashing lights of the cars ahead.
“Well if I had known they had called the best Detective in the state in already, I wouldn’t have bothered.” Willis replied, playing on the rivalry that had always existed between the two; it was harmless, and the two had been partners for years now.
Forcing a smile, Mills continued to speak, barely able to get his blunt voice over the sound of the surroundings. “I’ll just cut to it. See that building ahead?” Mills gestured, Willis’ attention drawing to the sight of the orphanage resting ahead of all the cars, surrounded by police tape, no lights emitting from its plentiful windows. Mostly crafted from stained brown wood, the sight was almost invisible in the darkness, and even Willis had to squint to make out its grand exterior. He replied with a simple nod, not wasting his precious energy where it wasn’t needed. “Well, about an hour ago, we got a call from one of the care workers there, said the kids were going crazy. We sent a single patrol car, nothing to worry about, eh?” He asked, not waiting for a reply. “Only, when the car got there five minutes later, ain’t nobody inside. The whole place is apparently empty, no workers, no kids, nothin’.”
“Has anyone been inside and had a look around?” Willis routinely asked, getting a better idea of what was going on. Mills shook his head, pointing out an officer sat at the edge of an ambulance, being treated for what looked like a stab wound.
“First two officers on scene went inside, and reported in that no one was there. About half a minute later, they called in that something had jumped them, stabbed Officer Han over there pretty bad.”
“And his partner?” Willis’ brow turned to a curious expression, stopping where they stood and turning to his partner, Mills, whom simply hunched his shoulders.
“Ain’t nobody seen him. Han said that something jumped them, and after that, he hadn’t seen his partner.” Mills finished, dusting off the few rain drops from his custom Italian suit.
“Why do you keep saying ‘something’?” He inquired, his partners eyes rolling at the question, as he again pointed to the officer being treated.
“He’s probably just delusional from the blood loss, but he insists that it wasn’t human, hasn’t shut up about long claws and teeth and all that shit since. Probably just some drugged up asshole, maybe an animal, I don’t know.”
This certainly had peaked Willis’ interest; it made a nice change from the mundane paper-work he had been forced to sit through for the past few weeks, rarely seeing any ground work. He knew why, but it still bothered him; nobody wanted to put the clinically depressed drunk in the field. “So, I’m guessing we’re going in there?”
“Bingo.” Mills grinned, picking up his radio from his belt. “All units, maintain a distance, Detective Willis and I are going inside. Give us ten minutes, and then come in after us.”