DR_TRAPEZOID Member
- Last Seen: 7 yrs ago
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 487 (0.12 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- DR_TRAPEZOID 11 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
I could go for this. I suppose if I were to join, I would enjoy being a demolitions expert, unless someone else had that idea as well, in which I could simply fill in the gaps.
Cool. There's twice as many people interested in this than my last RP!
"Well, it looks like we're all friends here, aren't we?" Dodger said, allowing himself to fall backwards, landing with a muffled thud in the same chair he had been using for cover not too long ago. A cloud of dust filled the air around him, and a more than a few moths left, scared out of the home they had made in the old moldy cloth. He quickly flicked on his lighter, just for a second, to get a good look at the people who had gathered. The light seemed to flood the lobby, however the circle of light was actually rather small, to the point where someone outside wouldn't notice, unless they had been staring into this particular room of this particular building. "Well, look at we have here. One supposedly dead girl, an amateur sprayer, and some other people, who I'm guessing are Sprayers, am I right?" He asked, directing the question to no one in particular.
"Speaking of amateur Sprayers, how's the spraying been going, Clarion? Been getting into trouble like I told you?" He said, his tone jovial, however still in a silent, almost whispering voice. Not actually waiting for a response, he proceeded to remove the fuse from his molotov, take a swig of the Scotch inside, before screwing the lid and fuse tightly back on. Scotch calmed his nerves, and he felt like his nerves would need some calming soon. "So, as Clarion so eloquently put it, wassup?"
"Speaking of amateur Sprayers, how's the spraying been going, Clarion? Been getting into trouble like I told you?" He said, his tone jovial, however still in a silent, almost whispering voice. Not actually waiting for a response, he proceeded to remove the fuse from his molotov, take a swig of the Scotch inside, before screwing the lid and fuse tightly back on. Scotch calmed his nerves, and he felt like his nerves would need some calming soon. "So, as Clarion so eloquently put it, wassup?"
Hey guys, I'm here with an RP idea, and I thought that I might as well post it in casual, as it will probably end up being a casual RP, and it hasn't gotten much (any) interest in the general IC.
Don't let me die sad and alone!
Don't let me die sad and alone!
My appearance has been added, if you care.
Kaga said
The term is "Draconide", not "Draconian", but that's a minor thing. Other than that, accepted. ^^
whoops, thanks.
Name: Caedes Waewyn
Age: 32
Appearance:
He is handsome, with very defined features, high cheekbones, and a fair complexion. His hair his curly and blond, a little above shoulder length. He wears very fine silky clothing as expected of a noble like himself.
I do have a picture, but I can't post it currently, I'm working from mobile.
Bio: Caedes has had a fairly normal life, nothing extraordinary. He was born into a noble family, and has had a good life. He was trained properly in the arts of swordplay, and given only the best of education, as his family certainly had no lack of money. He inherited his parents legacy when they passed away. His family wasn't exactly the most well respected family, at least not by other nobles; however, they had been rather charitable to those from the outside.
Caedes had always been a bit distant from his family, and as such, didn't know much as far as politics went. All he really knew was hosting parties, getting drunk, and dueling. He has continued to carry on his parents tradition of charity, and has always prided himself in his sense of right and wrong.
However, Caedes was extremely interested in the Draconides when they appeared. He enlisted the help of anyone he could to teach him to train a Draconide for himself. For you see, on his roof there was a large nest that had been established by a large amount of smaller wyverns, called rhamphorynchus by those of us today. Having no luck in shooing away these foreign beasts, so he thought that he may be able to do something in a kinder manner. After many scars, months, and different tamers, it happened. The noble house of Waewyn had a new addition, a winged one, at that.
Other: His draconian is a small flying beastie, named Skar, who is loyal to him, and is treated well by his master.
Age: 32
Appearance:
He is handsome, with very defined features, high cheekbones, and a fair complexion. His hair his curly and blond, a little above shoulder length. He wears very fine silky clothing as expected of a noble like himself.
I do have a picture, but I can't post it currently, I'm working from mobile.
Bio: Caedes has had a fairly normal life, nothing extraordinary. He was born into a noble family, and has had a good life. He was trained properly in the arts of swordplay, and given only the best of education, as his family certainly had no lack of money. He inherited his parents legacy when they passed away. His family wasn't exactly the most well respected family, at least not by other nobles; however, they had been rather charitable to those from the outside.
Caedes had always been a bit distant from his family, and as such, didn't know much as far as politics went. All he really knew was hosting parties, getting drunk, and dueling. He has continued to carry on his parents tradition of charity, and has always prided himself in his sense of right and wrong.
However, Caedes was extremely interested in the Draconides when they appeared. He enlisted the help of anyone he could to teach him to train a Draconide for himself. For you see, on his roof there was a large nest that had been established by a large amount of smaller wyverns, called rhamphorynchus by those of us today. Having no luck in shooing away these foreign beasts, so he thought that he may be able to do something in a kinder manner. After many scars, months, and different tamers, it happened. The noble house of Waewyn had a new addition, a winged one, at that.
Other: His draconian is a small flying beastie, named Skar, who is loyal to him, and is treated well by his master.
Dodger whipped around in a quick circle, hearing someone call out a name, one he hadn't heard in quite awhile. This name had more than a little weight around here. "Sass". He vaulted behind an old musty chair, in case it was an officer. No such thing as too much caution, Dodger always said. He contemplated in his head whether or not to respond in any way. Too many bad scenarios went through his head. This didn't stop him though, he had enough hope that it was someone friendly.
Still behind his chair, Dodger put away his gun, instead taking a Molotov in one hand his lighter in the other. He stood, his hands raised, with the weapons. His entire plan revolved around the darkness blotting his weapons from view. "I'm assuming you got the same message that I did? Or are you just checking random buildings for a dead lady?" He asked, loudly and clearly.
His left hand twitched, a nervous tick he had, usually only happening due to a situation he knew he was in trouble. He peered around the small lobby, still unable to make out the figure of anything other than a few chairs and tables. There was no light other than a pale shine of moonlight through broken, boarded up windows. A small cough surfaced in the back of Dodgers throat. The dust wafting through the air certainly wasn't helping his visibility situation.
Still behind his chair, Dodger put away his gun, instead taking a Molotov in one hand his lighter in the other. He stood, his hands raised, with the weapons. His entire plan revolved around the darkness blotting his weapons from view. "I'm assuming you got the same message that I did? Or are you just checking random buildings for a dead lady?" He asked, loudly and clearly.
His left hand twitched, a nervous tick he had, usually only happening due to a situation he knew he was in trouble. He peered around the small lobby, still unable to make out the figure of anything other than a few chairs and tables. There was no light other than a pale shine of moonlight through broken, boarded up windows. A small cough surfaced in the back of Dodgers throat. The dust wafting through the air certainly wasn't helping his visibility situation.
Gisk, you beautiful genius, you.
A bright red 'X'.
Jack skidded to a halt as he saw that tag on a piece of artwork. He stood, confused, dazed, almost. "I haven't seen that in a long time." he muttered to himself. He reached out to grab the piece of paper next to it. He studied it nor a moment, before he dashed away, leaving the paper for the next sprayer. As he strode across the rooftops, he slid his firearm into his hand, wary of a trap. When he worked as a Northgate guard, he knew that they were working on decoding it, but he was hopeful they hadn't made much progress.
As he arrived, peered into the building. It appeared to be something abandoned, possibly an apartment. He couldn't really see if there was anyone there. He quickly pulled up the bandana that covered his face, then flipped up his hood. He took a deep breath, then vaulted through a window, his gun raised. "Hello?" He said loudly, his voice echoing through the dusty lobby.
He almost shuddered with anticipation, having no idea whether or not he would be met by a Sprayer or officer. He slowly lowered the guns barrel a little bit, slowly reaching for his bag, to pull out a Molotov, in case someone called his bluff.
Jack skidded to a halt as he saw that tag on a piece of artwork. He stood, confused, dazed, almost. "I haven't seen that in a long time." he muttered to himself. He reached out to grab the piece of paper next to it. He studied it nor a moment, before he dashed away, leaving the paper for the next sprayer. As he strode across the rooftops, he slid his firearm into his hand, wary of a trap. When he worked as a Northgate guard, he knew that they were working on decoding it, but he was hopeful they hadn't made much progress.
As he arrived, peered into the building. It appeared to be something abandoned, possibly an apartment. He couldn't really see if there was anyone there. He quickly pulled up the bandana that covered his face, then flipped up his hood. He took a deep breath, then vaulted through a window, his gun raised. "Hello?" He said loudly, his voice echoing through the dusty lobby.
He almost shuddered with anticipation, having no idea whether or not he would be met by a Sprayer or officer. He slowly lowered the guns barrel a little bit, slowly reaching for his bag, to pull out a Molotov, in case someone called his bluff.
© 2007-2025