Dad

St. Vincent College LGBT Support Group(Romance)

Eddy and his pointy ears returned the clipboard to its resting place to let the unwashed masses fight for a position. He scanned the room with his eyes, since they were especially good for seeing things. He noticed Tony standing in the room looking dumb and rejected and quite dumb. Judging from his clownsuit clothes, Eddy knew that Tony was not self aware at all. He was probably the kind of person that has fights with his reflection and loses. Eddy and his pointy ears sensed a victim ripe for the harassing.

Slinking over with as much stealth as a very crowded room full of unsociable people would allow, he and his pointy ears greeted him in a devious way. "Hey there, Calamity Jane. You sure you're in the right place? My Gaydar™ is quite legendary, but you seem to be a dud." The smell from his American Eagle shirt wafted to his nostrils, smelling of dusty closets and broken dreams.

St. Vincent College LGBT Support Group(Romance)

Eddy and his pointy ears fled from his fondling with resounding speed. He lunged forth and seized the clipboard. He knew that his immense physical strength would dwarf these fools, but his immaculate sense of design and organization was even grander still. Eddy and his pointy ears signed his name with the most skillful and sacred of calligraphic techniques. The parade would be the first true test of his homosexual prowess. He and his pointy ears would not be bested.

St. Vincent College LGBT Support Group(Romance)

Eddy and his pointy ears beheld the fine specimen of gay before him. It was true that Oklahoma kindled some deep-rooted passion in his loins, but he was a bit put off by the dress. Eddy and his pointy ears preferred the clothes free look. He looked deep into New York's eyes, through his optic nerve, and into his very brain. He witnessed dark and terrible things and deemed Louisiana worthy of his attention.

"I'm Eddy," Eddy and his pointy ears told him. "Eddy Princeton. You probably don't remember who I am because we haven't met before." His observations were as sharp as his ears.

St. Vincent College LGBT Support Group(Romance)

Eddy and his pointy ears frothed at the mouth with contemptuous loathing from Faeya's dismissive wink. He pulled out the notepad he carried with him at all time to make a note to himself. "Faeya's pain will be legendary," he and his pointy ears wrote. He put on his most fashionably angry expression and looked up. Some flamboyant plebeian at come over to bask in his presence. Eddy and his pointy ears were not quite sure what to make of Dakota's garish personality just yet.

St. Vincent College LGBT Support Group(Romance)

Larkin only stared back absentmindedly at Eddy and his pointy ears. The kind of absentmindedness one might expect from an couch at a secondrate antique shop. The kind of secondrate antique shop your grandparents might drag you to on a Sunday afternoon when you would much rather be back at home trading Pokemon cards with your friends. The kind of friends that would scam you out of a holographic Machamp by telling you that their Rhydon was "definitely super rare." But now Eddy's thought were off-topic. He and his pointy ears returned their attention to Larkin and rolled his eyes at his ambiguous lack of response.

Around him, the room continued to burn with the white hot awkwardness of 1000 Freshman homecoming dances. Suddenly, the door burst open to reveal a creature known as Faeya. Eddy and his pointy ears knew that her name was Faeya because she insisted on screaming it very loudly. Contempt and hate and bitterness and indignation welled in his bosom. Eddy and his pointy ears made note of his new archnemesis.

St. Vincent College LGBT Support Group(Romance)

Eddy and his pointy ears found himself already annoyed with the lawless miscreants surrounding him. They spewed forth their grating babble-speak and some even dared have the audacity to have fun. Eddy and his pointy ears had come to sharpen his homosexual prowess, not mingle with heathens. He scanned the room and spotted Larkin sulking in the corner. Eddy and his pointy ears grew interested at making the acquaintance of a like-minded gay brethren. He sauntered over to him and popped a squat.

"Can you believe some of these people? Some people should really grow up," said Eddy and his pointy ears. He brushed some hair over his eyes to make himself look extra dark and moody.

St. Vincent College LGBT Support Group(Romance)

Eddy Princeton and his pointy ears rocketed through the parking lots of St. Vincent on his motorized scooter. He was a man and pointy pair of ears on a mission, for he had seen the writing on the wall. By writing on the wall, he meant the flyers for the Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender Support Group. The pamphlet had beckoned to him. It was key in his quest to understanding and controlling the homosexual fervor that secretly burned deep within him.

Veering through traffic and pedestrians alike, Eddy and his pointy ears made haste to Room 133, the promise land of sorts. Taking a corner too sharply, the back end of his motorized scooter clipped a park bench and took flight. Eddy and his pointy ears soared through the brilliant sky with a breathtaking mix of helpless flailing and astounding elegance. Landing with a deafening crash and thundering applause, Eddy and his pointy ears wasted no time in righting himself and breaking into a dead sprint. Booths along the way tried to stop and recruit him, but Eddy and his pointy ears had no time for Jesus or anime club. LGBTSG awaited him, and time was short.

He finally arrived at Room 133 winded, sweaty, but his ear no less perky. He gave the door three knocks before barging in anyway. The extravagant decor deeply moved him, but he was unsure what was to follow next.

St. Vincent College LGBT Support Group(Romance)

Name: Eddy Princeton
Age: 19
Year(Like Freshman, etc.): Sophomore
Major: Business
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Gay
Are you Out?(Y/N): Nope
Hair color: Black
Eye color: Blue
(Anything else you want to add): He has pointy ears that he is very proud of.

Red Dead Reapercushions

In the last days of the Wild West, a meteor full of radiation flew across the sky, granting the good folks of Armadillo super powers. The appearance of these super powers complicated the plans of the railroad companies, and they asked that the government intervene and execute the super folks. Now the people must unite together to preserve the true spirit of the west against revolvers, redemption, and reapercushions.

Character Sheet
Name:
Sex:
Gender:
Sexuality:
Age:
Occupation:
Weapons:
Powers:
Bio (optional):



Name: Sarsaparilla Pete
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Straight
Age: 42
Occupation: Town Sharif
Weapons: seven revolvers hidden in different pieces of clothing
Powers: Fireballs, can speak to trees
Bio: Sarsaparilla grew up in Armadillo, and feels more loyalty to his to his fellow townsfolk than the government. He will fight to the end to keep them safe.

Breeds

Clifton watched the appearance and demise of Anne "Bad Bitch" Frank with mild discomfort. It was the sort of discomfort one gets from stepping into a puddle of water with socks on. It was the sort of discomfort that mildly upsets you to your very core. In the pit of his stomach, he could feel his luncheon's salad begin to frost over and the orange juice begin to curdle. The malevolent Catholic's approach did nothing to ease him. He turned to Commander Pistols, pleading. "Talk to him!," Clifton screamed. "Do something! We need that sword!"

Commander Pistols met Clifton's eyes. "Sonny, I tried to explain it earlier, but you weren't having it. Reedus's Dad and I had a falling out sometime ago. He tried to excommunicate me to death! I've got the scars to prove it." He pointed at his pistol foot. "If you were counting on me to help you, well, you're outta luck, son."

Clifton's salad began to resemble the arctic circle. All that stood between him and certain religious persecution was an angry viking, a weeaboo, and a basketball. He pulled out his pocket calculator and began to steal classified UN documents in an attempt to calm his nerves.

In the meanwhile, Reedus's Dad continued his march, Reedusword drawn. The basketball said something to him, but both black men and basketball were beneath his comprehension. He only had eyes for Tobias and his pagan weapon. A Religious Fervor burned deeply in his chaste loins. Leaping higher than the highest basilica, he covered the ground between him and the group. Pelsdraebe+ and Reedusword clashed. The screams of metal on metal deafened all those around, drowning out the world in their harrowing cacophony. The windows of Valhalla shattered as the sound traveled out and bounded across the lands, calling out well into the far corners of the universe. Not a soul was left unmarked.

Somewhere, a pair of pointy ears pricked.