Aalakrys

Rebellion

The classroom's dead silence at the new girl's march to her seat was music to Morgan's ears, especially after the flustered old dolt of a teacher bumbled around her unwillingness to share. Yep, definitely the most interesting girl she'd seen in a while in this dump, but once she sat down in her chair and robotically got to work taking notes she was just another desk filler to the purple-haired puppeteer, same as her. Morgan rested her cheek back to her fist and wiggled her pencil between her fingers for most of homeroom, jotting down what she needed, and chewing on a piece of gum she'd snuck in when the teacher was turned away.

In gym class, she laid on the bleachers in her school uniform still instead of the required clothes as the other girls practiced volleyball, staring up at the ceiling. Some of the girls began whining about unfairness and she was forced, just like every day, to go play the game after a good chiding from the coach. "Playing" meant she would stand in her spot and move when the serving team swapped. When it was her term to serve, she stared at the coach like the woman had lost her mind until she finally made another girl swap spots with her. Morgan knew she was not physically fit and did not strive to be, nor did she want to participate in 'team building' sports when all the players were against her and would only form as a team to bully her. But that was in the past. Things were different now.

Third period, she found herself back with the new girl, but she hadn't noticed until the bell rang for lunch at the end. Morgan shuffled out of the room with her bag loose on her shoulder and headphones on her full blast to get a soda out of the vending machine and when she returned she saw the girl writing in her notebook and that Seth Boy Wonder was attempting to talk to the her. She smirked and sat down in 'her' desk, propping her feet against the bars of the desk beside it as she cracked open her soda and knocked one ear piece off to shout, "Hey, Superhero, Robot Girl doesn't want to talk to you. You think this class would know that aura with me already shoved in it."

Looking back down at her meager lunch after giving her deadly grin, it melded into a smirk as she started drawing on the desk with her marker idly, but actually leaving her headphone off just to see if the new girl did speak up. After all, she was curious.

Angel With A Shotgun

Oh, like I said, it's perfectly fine. Good luck!

Rebellion

Awww, Bird - I just saved that picture the other day as potential characters because he was just so cute. <3 Do you think our characters may have known each other while in foster care for that short time? Just curious. ^^ If so, then maybe he'll be one of the few people she's openly nice to before getting to know. :P

Edit x3: Also, that applies to Jurano as well - even though she'd be more of a tolerating sort with him instead of nice. ^^;

Angel With A Shotgun

Ooh no! Thank you for letting me know - I've been there and have had friends that have been there. Take care of what you need to - I'll still be around. No rush at all from me. :)

Faded Memory's Character Sheets

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Angel With A Shotgun

Hey there! I did the first post. It's a bit long, but it's the reason why she's where she is, so there was bound to be explanation. I like her a little more - she seems a bit more real now that I've written out her intro. She's all sadness and unfeeling at the same time, but she has a saucy personality once she gets close to someone. :D I hope it wasn't too long though. ^^;

Angel With A Shotgun

Stupid was the only word which formed in her mind remotely close to describe the situation as she leaned heavily against the brick wall, feel hurt but not allowing the tears to fall. I can't even think of a better word. Gosh, I'm so simplistic. Biting back a sob, Clarissa Middleton let herself fall hard into the brick wall behind her as her mind flashed back to today's memories as well as the ones they brought up.

A nice charming brunette had been the end to her already really bad day. He'd become a regular at the diner within the last few weeks, always coming in during her shift to get only a cup of coffee. She was all professional polite smiles and idle required chatter, but thought nothing of it as she did with all of her customers at first. His nice manner didn't take long to change as he became suggestive and grabby though, recalling all of her memories of school directly before she left. Boys who had previously been polite to her started cornering her, making accusative and insinuative advances. One went as far as to touch her before a teacher discovered them, tossing the boy out and hauling her to the office with the honest intentions of calling her family for support but instead creating a spectacle. Her step-father arrived and she flinched away from him when he cooed and beckoned her into his arms. That was the night she left - just like tonight was her last shift at work when she upturned the pot of hot coffee on the man's pretty head.

Knowing she needed the job, she listened to the head chef and owner's yelling, but couldn't bring herself to apologize for that man had been in the wrong. As her boss yelled and pointed out that it was what men did to girls who had put themselves in the position, he accused her of starting the trouble, she went hollow - reminding herself that she needed the job. She needed the money. It wasn't until her boss started untying her apron forcefully that she snapped back to reality. It was after hours and she had only stuck around to attempt to argue for her job, so no one was around to protect her. She felt like she was suffocating for a moment, but then her instincts kicked in. The man was larger than her by strength and frame, but all men had the same weaknesses when faced by a tiny little girl. Stomping down heavily with her heel on the man's worn sneaker and instantly flat palming his nose, she kneed his groin easily in his shock and turned to flee - tossing the apron over her shoulder as she reached the door.

Once she made it a few blocks away, mostly sticking to back alleys she was familiar with, she slowed after climbing a fire escape to rest. He'll call the cops ... was her first thought. I've lost all my jobs ... was her second. She wept quietly as her legs dangled over the edge of the fire escape, her head tucked into her folded arms resting on the bars. To anyone who noticed her sitting up there, she looked to be sleeping - that was something Marks had taught her.

Marks the pain in her chest felt fresh as the name she'd pushed down for so long emerged unbidden. He'd shown her how to live on the streets, but pretty much sold her for a fix. She actually had believed him when he denied it once she caught back up with him again - it wasn't hard to do living on the streets. Drugging her the same night and taking advantage of her ended that trust. When she woke, he was passed out - high and tripping from a fix, most likely - so she took her chance to flee after gathering her wits about herself again. Bitterness and irony took over - she was only seventeen at the time, but wouldn't have known what to do without his previous year of street-training her.

After that incident, she'd attempted to find her childhood friend - the only person she had left to turn to - but found that whole situation awkward once she finally did find her. No one will miss you if you just go back to being gone her friend's mother had said one day as she made her way to leave. Don't bring your life into my child's ever again. So, she didn't. Instead, years later, she found herself leaning against a brick wall wondering why life had to be so against her no matter how hard she tried.

If I'm so stupid and my life is useless ... then I could at least be a brave coward and end it had been her thought as she woke up that morning, but she pushed it away when it was time to get ready for her first job, only distracted from the idea simply because time was ticking and she had to be at work in thirty minutes. Now, as she stared at the ledge in front of her, the memory seemed mere moments ago instead of hours. Taking a few steps forward, she looked over the edge without seeing the rushing waters below, feeling hollow still as she stood on the ledge. Wind whipped at her face, tossing her long hair along as she spread her arms. And I have no one to say goodbye to ... what a pointless existence this has been.

Rebellion

The sudden breeze blew through the outside stairwell briskly, whipping Morgan's thick purple locks all around but not distracting her from her latest piece of art. Looking down at the rough sketch, one could merely see wild lines and jagged shapes, but Morgan could picture the complete picture - comic book blood red as the back drop with black blended in to enunciate the shadows. The lone, haunted figure in the center. Her venues loved this type of stuff, so she was more more than happy to sell the pieces for the price of the paint if they wanted it. Of course, she didn't use her special paint, she thought as she absently looked out over the school grounds seeing the flock coming to the barn.

She'd gotten to school early that morning and came up here to stay isolated while she worked. Everyone below and their gossiping nature knew not to mistake her early arrival with a love for learning and 'normalizing socialization skills' as the lovely Ultimatum would so hope, but rather a hatred of her foster mom and house. Closing her drawing pad, she tucked it away in her messenger bag and lit a cigarette. No one used this stairwell before homeroom, she'd learned before she made sure people left her alone, and if they did then they were not the type to foolishly go tell on Morgan for smoking - much more likely would they ask to bum a light.

She tapped her nails on the rail, somewhat displeased that it was already starting to get warm. She preferred the cold, mostly because she dressed appropriately for it instead of the silly girls who insisted on wearing shorts and heavy jackets. How did that make sense anyway? Once she finished she went inside through the fire door to her right and slowly made her way to the already noisy class, taking the rear entrance and sitting immediately down in the seat closest to that door. By now, there was some sort of unspoken agreement between her and the other females in her class which was to leave that seat open at all times.

Really, she wasn't intimidating in appearance, which had been her problem when she was younger. Being small in height and body size did not make the bullies leave her alone, so she had to create the persona that forced them away. Sure, people had slowly begun to talk to her, but always in a distant way. With the exception of her bandmates, she smiled privately to herself for a moment - thinking of their practice last night - as she rested her cheek to her fist and drew circles with her finger on the desk, idly beginning to start the transition of passing through another day of Ultimatum-biased knowledge.

"My name is Lucy Bastion. I hope we have a good year together. That's all." brought her out of her miscellaneous thoughts, the tone sounding very familiar but the voice obviously belonging to a stranger. It was the tone that she used to get through conversations faster with her foster mother or to scare off other kids who began to pester her by feigning disinterest, and the expression of the girl made a smile spread across her lips as she glanced up at Lucy from her relaxed position.

A Few MxM Plots... [Advanced]

Well, hello there. I have read this interest check a few times and always move away from it because I was not too available to be so indepth, although I'd love to do so. Now I find myself pretty open. I've only got one RP going on specifically and another one which is supposed to start up soon, so I can definitely do one more.

I really liked your introduction as you're very clear in your expectations and desires in a RP partner. A little about myself: I am working full-time and mostly unavailable during weekdays. I do try to make at least one good post a day though. However, this week I'm on vacation and will be able to start something up to at least have the foundation going. :) I'm very flexible with my style and try to avoid using so many pronouns such as shown in this paragraph. ^^;

I find your Unlucky Ones topic most interesting, although I must admit my knowledge on the terminology is a little lax. I do understand the general picture though. If you'd like to consider me as a potential Y then please let me know. :)

Angel With A Shotgun

Appearance:

Eyes: Pale green ~ Hair: White Blonde ~ Body Type: Short stature and Small Framed

Name: Clarissa Middleton

Nickname: Ris

Age: 20

Occupation: Multiple Odd Jobs: Waitress at night, Bookstore clerk during the day, Custodian at the local college every weekend day, Singing at clubs with her motley band weekend nights hoping to catch a break

Skills: Singing, Stealing, and Faking

Personality: Although she has a cheerful disposition on the outside and everyone thinks she is a happy person, her inside is full of demons. She is constantly down on herself and doesn't feel as if she fits in with even her old friends anymore. She's mistrusting of most people and keeps herself at a distance because she feels like if people saw her true nature that she'd be alone completely rather than just internally. However, she remains kind to strangers and tries to keep her mask from cracking while she's at work. Otherwise, around people she gets somewhat close to, she is quiet, moody, sometimes snippish, and known to disappear without announcement. However, once those walls come down, she can't help but to care.

History: She ran away from home at a young age due to her mentally and physically abusive step-father. She didn't dare return to school in case he came looking for her there, but it was hard to get by being underage. Rumors had started around school that she was a slut shortly before she left, so she had no hard feelings leaving behind that group of peers. The people she met on the street were more real anyway - they had to do what they had to do to survive. She even met a slightly older guy who she looked up to as a mentor, at least until he betrayed her by trying to drug her and sleep with her. Her trust in people completely shattered after that moment. She fell deeper into her depression and functioned only enough to survive life - she went to work, found a place to sleep, and went to work again the next day.