DruSM157

⌠𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 ╼ 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋⌡

Sample writing piece is in the same post as my CS. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go back to dying.

⌠𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 ╼ 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋⌡

What a great time to get the flu and be barely able to move

⌠𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 ╼ 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋⌡

@DruSM157@Inkarnate

hmu with that font you two are using for the cs

@Euphonium

I dunno I just steal ink's stuff

⌠𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 ╼ 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋⌡

I was press-ganged into this, I swear

oh god here we go

---

From even the greatest of horrors irony is seldom absent. H.P. Lovecraft.

The Whisper From the Dark. The Sudden Drop. Bloodcurled. You’d be hard-pressed not to find some of these kitschy horror novels in every bookstore in the northwest for good reason: David Marlowe was a hot commodity. Whilst ever-combatting the local art critics on what is “literature” and what is “trash”, David Marlowe was simply quite happy to exist as a relatively popular horror novelist; never hitting the high heights like Stephen King or Dean Koontz, but also never fading into obscurity. He lived a comfortable, albeit lonely life.

Growing up in suburban Seattle, David settled into writing during college, being published in magazines and in short story collections until his first breakthrough novel, The Screamchasers, hit the bestseller lists. He found himself doing book tours, working on C-Movie Hollywood hack deals and making enough money to live comfortably without working a “real” job. Shortly after his third novel, The Whisper From the Dark was published, David found himself in the middle of both a scandal involving a local politician's wife and death threats from overzealous fans. The stress nearly led to him having a complete nervous breakdown, and he sold his house, his car and most of his belongings making his way to a small apartment complex near the Sweet Bay Hotel. There, amidst heavy medications for his newly developed night terrors, David began an existence of quiet obscurity, still writing, but now keeping hidden from the public view.

Several locals claim that they know that THE David Marlowe lives in town, but most would be hard-pressed to even find the man. Now only leaving home at night, and keeping a few local contacts, David is more of a hermit with a typewriter than your average citizen. Even now every few years another book is published to moderate acclaim; even to keep paying rent and to keep himself fed, but never enough to truly be regarded as one of horror’s all-time greats.

---

Physical Traits

David is tall enough, standing at around 5’10, but due to his lifestyle change and thanks to the drugs he takes, he’s begun to grow a slight paunch in the stomach region. Still, David is broad-shouldered enough to still be considered “strong”, however the past few years have led to his once youthful strength to become diminished. He can lift and run, but his stamina has greatly been reduced. His hair is cut short, black with grey tinges forming on the edges. His hair has also begun to thin.

David’s clothes can be considered “bookish”. Glasses, tweed coats or all-weather jackets, slacks and nice shoes are his usual clothing when he has to leave. His once clean-shaven face is now considerably bearded, and whilst he does trim weekly, it has a habit of becoming wild and stringy, especially if he goes a day or two without washing.

Full Name

David Harrison Marlowe

Gender

Male

Ethnicity

Caucasion

Sexuality

Heterosexual

Age

34

Motives

David is continually chasing that one great story; the one that will cement him into the horror anthologies for the rest of his life. His books sell well enough and he has a fairly sizeable fan community, but beyond two books making the bestseller list, he’s never had “true” success like the industry giants. He constantly tries to find new ways to pull out the horror from his mind, but in recent months, he has constantly hit wall after wall.

He’s found various things to blame: and the latest has been his medication. He will occasionally try to come off his medication, only to be plagued with nightmares and anxieties that leave him almost catatonic, until he is forced to take them again to be normal again. Not that he ever feels normal anymore.

Occupation

Published Author

---

sample post written under the FLU

Outside King’s Apartment Building, 11:22 PM

David Marlowe’s head was throbbing, and the constant buzz of a streetlight was only exacerbating his problems. In the past forty-eight hours he’d slept maybe three hours total. This wasn’t out of the ordinary for him, but this past week he’d had horrendous nightmares. Enough that his attempts at releasing his creative muse were put on hold so he could start medicating himself again. In the dream he could remember, he found himself sitting in a room surrounded by faceless people, all moving towards him slowly. It finally came to a breaking point earlier this evening when he could have sworn that he saw a figure in his window. His third story window.

So now here he was, on the street, walking to the small convenience store near the apartment. It looked like it had been a 7-11 in the past until some company rebranded the name but kept the ugly green coat of paint. The bright fluorescent lights inside didn’t make David too excited to enter there either, but this was one of the few places he did frequently. He stepped inside, the annoying electronic chime ringing the door slid back to close. The clerk was sitting at the counter, thumbing through a book. The lack of communication was fine for David, and he made his way towards the back of the store. For a moment, he stopped, looking at different types of liquor. The urge swelled up inside of him, but he stepped away. Mixing Klonopin and liquor would be a good way to appear on the rag sheets. David Marlowe finally kills himself after hiding from the public for six years. Instead, he grabbed a bottle of water and some headache powder, returning to the clerk.

“Oh, will this be all?” The clerk couldn’t have been older than twenty. Some messy haired kid who was probably working late nights to help pay for college or something.

“Yes,” David answered succinctly, averting his gaze away from the young man. It was then he noticed the book he’d been thumbing through: The Sudden Drop. Fuck.

“It’ll be...four seventeen,” he answered, apparently unaware of the picture of David on the back of his paperback novel was a slightly younger and healthier version of the man standing in front of him.

“Sure,” David replied, handing him a few crumpled bills and coins. He grabbed his sundries and made his way from the convenience store quickly, walking with a staccato pace until he reached a lonely part of the sidewalk, his only companion the head-throbbingly loud buzz of the street lamp. David began gasping for breath, holding his free hand close to his chest. How quickly could that have gone south? What kind of shitty internet journalist would take the bait and start asking around for “Whatever Happened To That Creep David Marlowe?” His breathing slowed, and he felt himself regaining control again.

“I can’t keep this up forever.” He muttered, wiping rivulets of sweat from his brow. The sound of a car roared in the distance, and David began increasing his pace again, making his way back to the apartment.

You Can Become a Hero!

---

Sapporo, Japan
Ishin Academy, April 7th

---

The sudden approach and conversation with a girl was jarring to say the least. It wasn’t unwelcome, even with the thick molasses of snark and sarcasm from the attractive girl. But for Shun, his mind was elsewhere (as it had always been on stressful days) to play the part of the hormonal teenage boy. “Spaced out?” Shun finally reacted as she gave her schpeel.

“No, no!” He chuckled. “I’m actually just excited. I was scared I would be late!” He grinned a toothy grin that seemed to completely ignore all the stressors around him, ignoring the fact that he was sitting in the belly of a beast designed to destroy people like him.

“Though I feel bad for that guy,” he said, looking over to where the feline-looking boy had cried. He hadn’t even really noticed it until the girl brought his attention to it. He was completely unaware that the tears were happy. “I hope he’s okay!” A hero would have made sure he was okay. The stern voice in the back of his head echoed. And that much was true: ever since he’d been accepted to the academy he knew he had to start acting less like a kid and more like a real hero.

“Oh! Right,” he said, realizing he had not introduced himself to Fuyumi. “I’m Shun! Tanaka Shun! From the racetracks of Okinawa all the way up to the frozen north!” He smiled, extending a hand to her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Fuyumi! Let’s be great heroes!”

You Can Become a Hero!

---

Sapporo, Japan
Sapporo Station, April 7th

---

Trains came and went with the passing minutes. Busy passengers would step on or step off the platforms moving throughout their morning commute. It was all so…droll, so average, so normal. This was city life and that was how it went in these big cities. Even though the tall, chubby boy had lived near Nago City all his life; his youth was spent walking from his family’s apartment to school. He’d never had to worry about train schedules or such crowds, at least outside school trips to the mainland. But this morning sojourn was not a trip to Sapporo Station and Ishin Academy; this morning’s trip had been to an early morning grocery market. He’d gotten up at an almost scandalous hour to ride the Minami-Chitose line to a small marketplace in a small Sapporo suburb. The amount he’d paid for this item seemed almost as equally scandalous.

Hugged close to his chest was a large, brown bag. The crisp and cold April air had turned his face red and flushed, and his jacket felt awkward after years in the southern heat. He was far from home, after all. He was busy looking at a station map, fretting on how his path to the school would be. He had to leave Sapporo Station and head…west? East? Which street was it? 3rd Chome Street? Hokkaido University Street?

”You lost kid?” The voice came from behind the young man and startled him: almost making him drop his precious bag. Standing behind the boy was a lanky man wearing a police uniform. He looked out of place in the busy station and was meticulously chewing on an unlit cigarette. His hair was a messy bramble of almost-curls, and his thick eyebrows seemed to narrow in on the schoolboy.

”Y-yes sir,” the boy answered, in a mix of both surprise and a shiver from the cold. He clenched the paper bag close with his left arm, freeing his right hand to adjust his jacket’s collar. “It’s my first day at Ishin Academy and I’m afraid I’m not used to-“

“You take the yellow line stairs out to the street, turn left on 4 Chome, and follow the road til you see the ugly main building.” The police officer seemed to chuckle nostalgically. “If the old fart is still the headmaster of the school, don’t let him freak you out. Ishin likes to act like they’re the most hard-ass school around, but if you’ve been accepted, you’ve already beat the spread.”

”Did you go to Ishin Academy?”

”Yeah. A few years ago. During my last year they decided my quirk wasn’t strong enough to handle a serious situation.” The police officer seemed to look off towards the stairs wistfully, and then turned back to the boy. ”What’s your name?”

”It’s Shun sir. Tanaka Shun. The boy seemed nervous about this overly casual cop already.

”Well Tanaka Shun,” the officer began with a smirk, and he outstretched his hand for the young teenager to shake, ”My name is Kaneda Ryouichi. As an almost-alumnus of Ishin Academy, I wish you good luck in your first year to become a hero. Do your best.”

The sudden well-wishing of this stranger struck a chord in Shun’s heart. He smiled back, and gave a deep bow, almost dropping the paper bag. ”Thank you so much! I will do my best! And thank you for the directions!” He turned back towards the stairs and began to jog towards the school. He had to make it in time before the opening ceremonies, or his time at Ishin Academy might be cut even shorter.

The cop simply watched the boy run off and shook his head, chuckling. He walked by a newspaper stand, seeing one of the headlines being about a local teacher putting down a crime ring. Of course, he knew the operation quite well; it had been on his beat after all. ”Man, I sure hope that kid doesn’t have to deal with Midori,” he chuckled. ”She’d eat him alive.”

---

Sapporo, Japan
Ishin Academy Front Gate, April 7th

---

Shun was almost gasping for breath as he dashed through the front gate. Still some time before the morning ceremonies, at least which meant he wasn’t in danger of getting expelled on the spot. Would they expel a late student on the spot? He did his best not to let the nerves get to him. The past few months at home had been bad enough, especially after the phone call from the academy, the acceptance letter and his father’s…words of encouragement. The only person who’d actually been excited to see him go to Ishin Academy was his grandmother. She was so excited she even gave him something for his trip: a yellow scarf.

”It belonged to your dear mother, Shun,” she had told him in the hallway before he took the train north to Sapporo.

His mother.

He did his best not to dwell on such thoughts, hearing other students chattering in the courtyard while others were pushed forward towards the auditorium. Now Shun’s face flushed into something more: embarrassment. He felt so awkward, being taller than many of the first years. Being from Okinawa did little to help either, as his skin tone was much darker than the traditional Japanese students. He wondered if some would assume he was a foreigner. The large paper bag also set him apart, as most students simply carried a bag or suitcase with them.

How would this year even start for him?

In Search of Gaea: A Seafaring Fantasy Adventure

Good to know everyone is still onboard. I’ve got a new job back home and I’m moving right now but I should have some stablility after this weekend. Anyone can post btw! Well except May since they posted last

You Can Become a Hero!

S h u n

Personal Dossier

---

_Name

Tanaka Shun

_Age

15

_Origin

Okinawa, Japan

_{Physical Description}

Always taller than most boys his age, Shun is big in all respects. Heavier, taller and darker skinned due to growing up on Okinawa, he sticks out like a sore thumb this far north. His dark brown hair is occasionally gelled up into a pompadour, and he walks around wearing a dumb grin on his face. Constantly wearing relaxed shirts and shorts, it’s a humorous sight to see him shivering as he walks outside between classes. But, as he says, ”The clothes are just part of who I am!”

_{Characterization}

Earnest
Friendly
Honest
Helpful
Humorous
Lazy

_{Personal History}

Shun was raised by his father, a racecar mechanic in Okinawa alongside three older brothers and a younger sister. Shun barely had any real memories of his mother, who was always "away on business" during his childhood. Her own work was kept secret in their household, as his father seemed particularly upset with his wife's career path. When Shun was 8, his mother was killed on one of her business trips, and his father became colder and more obsessed with work. Shun's more cheerful personality, something he seemed to inherit from his mother and grandmother, continued undaunted in these dark times, even masking his own sadness.

Whilst Shun's father and brothers all had the same quirk, Shun had inherited his mother's quirk: Overdrive. This seemed to create a further rift between Shun and his family, as he was still expected to assist with his family's business after school. In fact, up until his final year in middle school, Shun had never actually considered the hero course at all. During a class trip, one of Shun's classmates tripped over a railing, and Shun was able to grab her in time before she could fall. This was the first moment where Shun's homeroom teacher recommended he consider the hero course for high school, instead of going to a normal high school, and then to a technical school to get a degree in mechanics.

Shun's application process was an awkward series of misadventures. His scores were extremely average, and his aptitude with his quirk was pathetic. A month before his middle school graduation, Shun received a letter from Isshin Academy, a school he had not applied to (due to the sheer distance from home). His scores, quirk tests and interview all felt the same at every other school he applied for, and it all seemed hopeless.

And then he received his acceptance letter. Even without his father's blessing, Shun took the chance to pursue this odd career choice; based on both his teacher's recommendations and a serious conversation he had with his grandmother that same year...

_{Character Development & Conceptualization}

Shun is a fun, relaxed and laidback character, and is meant to be an antithesis to the shonen protagonists that are so popular in the genre (and that I tend to roleplay all the time). Shun is relatively weak compared to his other classmates and has only made it this far due to his quirk’s abilities. The goal is to follow this lazy character that in any other medium be a background or punchline character and show how even someone like him can develop into an excellent hero. The other concept of his character is growing into his place as a hero and learning the truth behind some hidden family secrets. Dealing with the serious consequences of taking up a hero's mantle, as well as trying to live up to their ideals and expectations around those who knew them best is an interesting source of drama.

Abilities & Talents

---

_{Quirk Type}

Emitter

_{Quirk Description}

Many believe Shun’s quirk is based around simply charging up energy, but it’s a little more than that. Overdrive is simply Shun’s ability to store up kinetic energy, then release said kinetic energy any way he pleases. While he can do damage with his quirk, Shun’s greatest weakness is both in his physicality (out of shape) and in his ability to store the energy. It can take up to three minutes for Shun to charge up his quirk, leaving him both open to counter-attack and incapable of performing a rescue. However, when he releases his kinetic energy, he is capable of both extreme speed and strength.

Overdrive is a deeper quirk than simply kinetic storing; as Shun's mastery of his quirk increases, he will be able to sap potential energy from objects (trains, cars, bikes, moving debris, etc) as well as draw out reserves of energy, though this technique comes at a great cost.

_{Other Talents & Attributes}

Shun is a brilliant gearhead and can tear apart most small electronics and vehicles if left to his own devices. As far as his own physical abilities, Shun has fallen behind throughout his school years. His attitude has always been focused on taking it easy and relaxing, which has stunted his potential physical growth. He also lacks any sort of great stamina, rendering long applications of his kinetic charge weak. Shun is also a master around a barbeque, in case anyone gets hungry out there in the snow.

In Search of Gaea: A Seafaring Fantasy Adventure

Everyone still alive around here? If the excitement of the RP's gone, that's fine and all. Just want to do a check in since it's been silent for a while.

NCQuest -- To Be Rebooted

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Falcon's Reach | Command Center
March 27th, 2677

---

Gold Mech.

As Skarsgård and Stein continued to converse, Alan couldn’t shake those words. Golden mech. Gold mech. Constantly repeating in his head. Stein and the other man were too busy conversing to see that Alan had broken out into a cold sweat. That his palms were shaking ever so slightly. That his pupils had dilated. It was good that this was unnoticed: he looked like a junkie craving a habit and having Stein or Percy believe that he was that kind of waster wouldn’t help anything. No, it’d make everything worse.

After all, this was the proof he needed.

He’d seen that Golden Mech tear apart his friends, burn his home and nearly kill him as well. He’d replayed that mission over a thousand nights in his head when he couldn’t sleep. Constantly remembering, unable to forget or forgive what had happened. Alan began backing towards the door of the room. “Hey, sorry-“ he interjected, stumbling in his words for a moment.“Where’s the bathroom around here? I just—” he stopped, trying to focus. “Just need to visit the little pilot’s room for a sec.”

Skarsgård raised an eyebrow and nodded. “It’s down the hall and to the left.” The bonds of fellow wasters at least had that trust between them. Alan quickly exited the room and stepped quickly and with purpose towards the bathroom. He opened the door, and quickly knelt down making sure there were no feet in the stalls around. Finding himself alone for a quick moment, he exhaled loudly, and placed both his hands on the sides of the porcelain bathroom sink. He looked up to see his face in the mirror: his cheeks were flushed. Beads of sweat were dripping down his forehead. He looked sick. He felt sick.

Pip. Dicer. Janus. How many years was it now since he’d seem them alive?

Mother. Father. How badly mauled were their bodies by that mech?

He wanted to throw up. His stomach churned. But the day’s rations were so far settled now he knew he would simply be dry heaving over a toilet. He had to calm down. Deep breath in. Hold for six seconds. Deep breath out.

Cold water splashed across his face as he tried to wash away the proof of his obsession before heading back. No need to make his companions worry, or realize what he was planning to do now. Two Rivers was just a warning. New Anchorage was the target, and the smaller settlements would be decimated first. But the largest one? When would he strike?

He’d be there, waiting for him. He’d find him. And one of them would die.

After that, I’ll be free.

Alan dried his face off, and made his way back to the group. “Sorry,” he said, trying to play off his sudden retreat. “Breakfast must’ve shot right through me.”