Aims

[Casual] Cravings. :) [Always Open]

Wanting to maybe pick something up.

Opening up the email option for an RP.

:)

[Casual] Cravings. :) [Always Open]

Definitely still looking. :)

[Casual] Cravings. :) [Always Open]

Yeah! Shoot me a PM.

[Casual] Cravings. :) [Always Open]

Themes-
-High school
-Supernatural (love vampires/werewolves)
-Post-apocalyptic
-Pre-apocaltypic (I'd fight off a disease for ya. *To the tune of Grenade* ^^)
-Genderbent Studio Ghibli. Original-ish plots. I have a few.
-Attack on Titan (anime, not manga)
-Ouran High School Host Club
-Playful Kiss/It Started With a Kiss
-Uglies (Scott Westerfeild Series)

Plots:

Immortals

This plot circles around a group of characters (two a piece) who are immortal. No, we aren't vampires. We just never age, and we don't know why. Most of us were born around the decade of nuclear discovery and exploration, and so we think that has something to do with it. The oldest of us, one of my characters, has been traveling the world and searching for each of us, trying to create a group for better protection. Or maybe just to be friends. At last, though, we are all together, four different people from different places, and we find out we are being hunted.

Escaping Insanity

All teenagers are crazy. That's a universal truth. But when you're born with superpowers, you tend to go a little crazier a little faster. Our characters will be two inmates at the local asylum which is really a very nice home for us 'crazy' powerful teens. One question can sum up the plot for this role-play: Why are they hiding us in here?

I mean, it's in the title. ^^

Across the River

On an island lost in time, there are two clans of people. They are divided by a grand river that stretches the entire length of the island. On the west side of the island, under the shade of the mountain, the Night resides, a clan of vampires who capture the energy of the island to manipulate ancient magic. On the east, the Day roam, a pack of werewolves who pride themselves on their strength and ability to triumph in any battle. They live of the moon herself and the wisdom she provides. Yet, the two groups cannot live in peace. Long ago, in a war no one is alive to remember, the two of them fought to the bone, until there was almost no one left alive. Willing to cease for the need to survive, the Alpha and Lord decided to seperate and never speak to one another again. Thus, enemies were born.

That is until the too curious daughter of the Alpha roams a little too close to the river for safety. From the tree tops, she can almost see into the training centers, but she couldn't have known she was being watched. The sheltered, misguided son of the Lord watched her from behind the wall, just as curious as she is.

Children of the Gods

This is an idea that I haven't plotted out completely. Basically, we are two teenagers who find out that we are Demigods. I want it to be a little Percy Jackson-y, of course. It's an idea we can plan as we go. :)

@Aims

I'm looking to pick up a partner or two. :) New ideas here!

Island of the Corrupt. (Fillet & Aims)

I’ve nearly fallen asleep when the man begins to stir. He’s grunting, kicking at something in his nightmare. Then, he starts clawing at something. It’s funny, really, watching him fight the things in his dreams. How do I know he’s fighting something? Somehow, it just makes sense. I rub at my eyes, staring down at the fire again, when the man starts growling. It’s the growl of a predator, deep and throaty. I know that sound; I’ve made it before. As I look up at him, he is racing towards me, teeth bared, eyes reflecting the moonlight.

He crashes into me, giving me little to no time to move. My back’s against the ground; his teeth are at my throat. My hand’s go straight for his own throat, wondering if I could choke him out. It takes every ounce of strength I have to push him away from me. It’s surprising how strong he is in this condition. Over his shoulder, the moon gives the cave an eerie glow, casting silver shadows on the clunky rocks outside the mouth of the cave. We aren’t sitting in the moonlight but in the darkness.

If I could only reach that moonlight. The thought that runs through my mind confuses me. What would the light from the moon do for me? My instinct hasn’t failed me yet today, and so I give the man once strong shove and push him off me, cussing. If I’d known he would attack me when the sun set, I would have left him behind. Panting, I run towards the opening of the cave, standing tall in the dim light.

“Wake up, you idiot, it’s just me,” I yell back at him, shivering. It’s not cold. But my body is covered in these weird bumps, bumps that itch and tingle. There’s an odd pain in my stomach, an urge to kneel down on my hands and knees, an urge to run. Is it the moonlight? Connections, Jess, make connections. Moonlight. Nocturnal. Animals. Moonlight. Werewolves. Wait, that last connection is so random that it makes perfect sense. If the man before me is a vampire, then why can’t I be a werewolf?

The Other World

Hey, I hope I did okay! I wasn't entirely sure what the shadow world would actually look like, but since you said people have actually regained their shadows, I thought there might be some shadows lurking around still. Like, it's not a ghost town, like I originally imagined.

The Other World

Logan sat up in his seat, honestly surprised at her reaction.

“So… when do I go in?” she asked, without even a blink. Logan had freaked out at first, analyzing every possible way he could die. It was a dark week for him, sitting in that stupid hospital bed upstairs in his hospital clothes breathing in hospital air. And here she was, just ready to dive head first in to the Shadow World. Logan chuckled, as Harris looked at him for help explaining the side effects of entering the Shadow World.

“The side effects are more like benefits,” he said, thinking back to his first time going in. While he hadn’t spent very long in there at all, it had almost seemed like a dream. You’ll be able to do pretty awesome things, but your body will drain energy really fast. Since shadow’s aren’t technically physical beings, they don’t use the same sort of energy that our metabolisms create. As a result, our bodies tire much faster than our shadow’s would. It’s like a balancing system, so we aren’t invincible. If you tire out, someone will have to come in for you, and no one likes to be on the rescue team.”

He leaned back again in his seat, scratching his head. He’d been rescued several times, which is why they had decided that they should move forward on a buddy system. It wasn’t safe to be in alone, anyway. He shivered as a cold chill rushed over him, looking down at the reflection of the lights in the glass table. He wouldn’t admit to her that he needed a partner.

“Would you tell Olivia what it’s like in the Shadow World?” Harris prodded, after the silence had stretched as long as he liked it to. Logan just looked at him, swallowing. He wasn’t scared of the place; it just gave him the heebie-jeebies.

“Um… It looks just like our world, with buildings and everything. There’s trees, grass, landmarks, everything. You’ll see some shadows, going on about their business, but it’s like looking in a mirror. Everything’s a reflection of our world, if that makes sense,” he said, shrugging.

“And what happens if we don’t find our shadows within a certain amount of time?” Harris kept prodding, trying to squeeze information out of the boy like a lemon. Logan looked up at him, giving him a look.

“We die,” Logan said, bluntly. “And there’s no way to tell how much time we have left. If there’s any signs of the time coming, we don’t know of any. It isn’t like we can ask the dead for help.” And asking the shadows didn’t do any good. They didn’t like to talk to the humans that went in. “There’s your ultimatum,” Logan said with a chuckle, “You go in with the judgmental kid, or you sit and wait for your unavoidable death. Good thing you’re going in."

Island of the Corrupt. (Fillet & Aims)

At the sight of the man’s body, I cuss. Loudly. What was it he had said before he passed out? How do I know he’s not dead? Still cussing, I lean down and hold a finger under his nose. He’s still breathing, I think; it’s hard to tell that way. The thought hits me that I would know if he was dead by the smell of him. If I can smell the life in him, I could sense it when he died. Lucky for me, he’s not dead. My eyes move towards the area he pointed at. There’s nothing but a small box. Upon further instruction, I notice that it’s filled with little sticks with a strong smelling red paint at the end. On the back of the box, there’s a scratched up strip of rough paper. Carefully, I break off one of the sticks, surprised at how flimsy they are. They aren’t weapons, and they aren’t food. An urge to scratch the stick across the rough paper hits me, and I do so, slowly, the red part meeting the rough paper with a sound that gives me goosebumps. Nothing happens. Faster maybe?

I scare myself with a scream when the stick bursts into flames. Without hesitation, I throw the stick to the ground, taking several steps away from the little fire that is starting. Matches. He found matches. There’s nothing scary about those. Shoving the box in my pocket, I stomp out the fire before it spreads. This guy must be stupid, passing out at the sight of fire. Doesn’t he know we’ll need it to cook food and stay warm? Rubbing my temple, I kneel down and stare at him. How am I supposed to get to shelter now? I would either have to carry him or drag him, and by the sight of him, dragging isn’t a good option. He would probably fall apart. But night is falling, and I need to move. Fast.

Whatever, I’ll carry him. Without any trace of gentleness, I pick the man up and sling him over my shoulder. I’m surprised I have the strength to do so, but it’s like he’s barely there. It’s easy to walk straight, following what I think is the direction of the mountain I saw from the top of the trees. As the sun begins to set, the incline of the ground increases, and I’m breathing heavier every second. The trees thin, too, until I’m facing a steep hill with just as many trees. These are different though, taller and skinnier. They have big heads, making them good shade trees, but they are thin and easy to walk under. This is what a forest feels like, I think. The mountain stretches up above me, as far as I can see. The top isn’t visible, but I sense it lies somewhere above the tree tops. Walking on ahead, I kick something and cry out, swaying under the invisible weight of the man. Under my feet are these huge rocks covering the ground. They go on for as long as I can see as well, up onto the mountain side. There’s a literal line where they began, with no pebbles or anything first. It doesn’t seem very natural. With much more effort than before, I continue walking, not almost climbing, until I stumble upon a gaping hole where the mountain side should be.

Is this a cave? I can’t see anything through the blackness of the cave, but I don’t sense life back there. I set the man down on the flat ground, under the shelter of the cave but still in a little light. Not enough to hurt him, because the shade of the trees is still good here, but enough that if he wakes up, he won’t freak out. I wander a little and pick up some twigs, returning with a handful of sticks. Now that I have the matches, starting a fire is easy enough, and so I just sit and wait for him to wake up, watching the way the fire casts shadows in the falling darkness.

Island of the Corrupt. (Fillet & Aims)

The man in the office chair jumped awake at the sound of voices. His clipboard slid off his chest and fell to the floor, creating one of the loudest sounds he had ever heard. Swearing, he picked it up, looking at his partner. Somehow, she was still asleep. Instead of waking her, he surveyed the screens.

On the walls, the two natural enemies had met. Both in personality and nature, they were to be complete opposites. Their superiors had planned it that way. As the woman, who held a hand made, crude spear in her hands, saved the scrambling man, he asked her to help him find shelter. On this side of the screens, the man in a suit punched some buttons and pulled up the island maps.

The female asleep in the chair beside him snored lightly, her black hair falling over her face. The man leaned back in his chair and watched the two of them, as the woman looked around her for something, shelter, probably. He could just barely hear them over the camera’s speaker system. He caught a glimpse of the name, black, bold letters across her left breast. Jess.

“At least I know one of you, now,” he muttered, scribbling the name on one of the manilla folders on his station.

~~~

I’m not sure what he said for a minute. I have to turn my head and face my ear towards him. Yet, after a moment, I realize it was the language. At first, the language was unfamiliar. Hadn’t I just spoken it? Rubbing my temple, I analyze his words one at a time.

I, as in him. Need, as in he will likely die without it. Shelter, a place safe from something, like a fire or a storm. I, again as in him. Can, as in am able. Trade, to exchange goods. When spaced out, they make sense. Why is this so hard for me? In my head, everything is picturesque; it just gets lost in transmission. It’s the word ‘trade’ that catches my attention. What is it that he has to give me? Yet, I need shelter too. Night will be here soon, and there’s no telling what will come out of these weird woods when the sun sets. It does occur to me that he’s a night dweller, but I’m not. At least, I don’t think I am. Thinking about it makes me doubt myself. Still rubbing my head, I lower the spear and step back. I dig around in my head for words.

“We both need shelter,” I say, more sure of the combination of sounds, “But I doubt that you have anything I would need, seeing as you look to be in the same position I am.” I point my spear down and rake it across his jumpsuit. It needs cleaning. He is wearing the same orange suit, the one that screams prison and makes no sense to me. “Lucky for you, I’m nice,” I add, looking around the woods. Was I nice? That didn’t sound right, but I said it with such confidence. There was no way of being sure I was, and I have absolutely no idea who I am. If there ever was a time to be a better person, I guess the time is now.

“Stay here, and I’ll climb up to the canopy of the forest and see if I see anything,” I say, laying my spear on the ground as an act of trust. I doubt he’s in any condition to attack me, or to climb this tree. What other option do I have? Judging by the smells and sounds I’m surrounded by, he’s the only other human on this land. I’d rather be with him than wandering around aimlessly alone. I turn and find the tree with some good footholds, wondering where I even learned to climb trees. It’s easy, a slow rhythm of pulling and pushing myself up. Lost in the concentration of movement, I forget and am surprised by the open air I feel as I break through the surface. A huge expanse of forest stretches in one direction, and the sea is behind me. On the other side of the forest, there’s a single hill of earth. It’s a tall pile of ground, shaping up to a point. I can’t see behind it, but I assume the ocean wraps itself around.

I push myself down, back under the shelter of the branches and glance down to find my foot holds. Below, I can see the speck of life that is the man, and I feel something knotting up in my stomach. I’m frozen, like ice almost, unable to tear myself away from this position. I’m holding my breath; my hands, holding on to the branches for dear life, are both convulsing. Bile rises up in the back of my throat. I don’t recognize the reaction of my body to the ground below, but God, I’m so high up.

I’m afraid of heights.

There’s a fuzzy memory in the back of my mind of standing, no sitting, in a cart on rails. I feel the cart lurch forward, my stomach in my shoes, and that’s what I’m feeling now, without the wind in my hair. Back in the present, I hold myself as close to the tree as I can, clenching my eyes closed. Now wasn’t the time for that memory to come back. Blindly, nearly panting, I scale back down the tree, scraping my hands up badly along the way. I miss a foothold and end up falling, landing on my back. Luckily, it must’ve not been far up, because the impact does do anything other than scare me. Breathing heavily, I turn to the man.

“There’s a hill up ahead, a pointy hill,” I say, biting my lip, “It’s a mountain. Maybe there’s a cave up there.” I can’t be sure where that connection came from, but it makes sense now that I’ve said it.

The Other World

I understand. This past week was my finals. So I'm free now, and we are trying to get in the Christmas spirit and all that. Haha.

I'll be waiting for your reply. ^^