JulienJaden Member
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- Last Seen: 4 yrs ago
- Joined: 9 yrs ago
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- JulienJaden 9 yrs ago
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Bio
... How in the world did you even get here? Privacy means nothing to you, huh?
Well, since you're probably with the NSA anyway, I might as well tell you what you already know:
I'm a 25-year-old male university student from Germany. As a German, I take everything very seriously and have no humor. At all. Does not compute.
I'm not saying I'm a terminator but let's just say that there's a reason they picked an Austrian to play it - The German model wouldn't have failed. As an advanced roleplay machine, I do put a lot of effort into what I write and usually end up hating it later, but I do my best to keep it a high level of quality and quantity.
Of course, I'm joking. See? Germans have humor. Not when it comes to writing though - Roleplaying is no joking matter.
Well, since you're probably with the NSA anyway, I might as well tell you what you already know:
I'm a 25-year-old male university student from Germany. As a German, I take everything very seriously and have no humor. At all. Does not compute.
I'm not saying I'm a terminator but let's just say that there's a reason they picked an Austrian to play it - The German model wouldn't have failed. As an advanced roleplay machine, I do put a lot of effort into what I write and usually end up hating it later, but I do my best to keep it a high level of quality and quantity.
Of course, I'm joking. See? Germans have humor. Not when it comes to writing though - Roleplaying is no joking matter.
Most Recent Posts
Christine was starting to feel his weight. The cryostasis probably hadn't worn off completely and her muscles made her regret the considerable exertion it meant to support somebody who had trouble walking on his own. There was an itch in her throat and her stomach contracted, reminding her that she hadn't had any food or water since before she was put in the freezer.
A quarter mile wasn't much, at least it shouldn't be to her, but she was slowly getting aware of the fact that they really were out in the middle of nowhere and her equipment was considerably worse than the last time she'd been out here, especially considering she had no idea where she was or where she was headed. At least I'm not alone this time.
"Might I have the name of my saviour?"
The raspy voice and thick accent distracted her from her not-so-fond memories and she turned her face to see the man she was carrying smiling at her, a charm about him as if he wasn't injured or weak. She met his eyes - her own not glittering as pure gold, as he had hoped, but flecked with emerald - and there was a strength in them that was mesmerizing: The will of a man who had ruled a country and cheated death. It was blemished by his agony but she had watched people fall to pieces even at the mere prospect of physical injury and torture and while she hadn't experienced exactly what he was going through, seeing the bloody gauze at his cheek made her scars itch and she remembered all too well that her own pain, confusion and isolation had brought her within an inch of breaking.
"Christine", she said softly, giving him a weak, encouraging smile. "I've been called other things, flattering and not, but my name is Christine. I'm not the one who saved you from the wreck, though."
That was when one of the newer arrivals, an attractive man who looked like he was about her age, came within talking distance and engaged Makarid in a conversation. Christine noticed that he was careful not to come too close, well aware of the gun in her hand. In truth, she wasn't sure if she could have reacted quickly enough if one of the people around her decided to attack her now but she hoped that she had made enough of an impression on them that nobody would try. That, and she was assuming that the other blonde - her name was Laura, right? - was watching her back and looking out for the old man with the medicine.
"I had a government job..."
She listened to the exchange and, when it was over, chuckled to herself.
"'Government job', was it?", she whispered to the man at her shoulder. "You're selling yourself short, President Ristachev."
As she did, the cryochamber - what was left of it anyway - came into view. It had taken longer than it should have, 10, 15 minutes for what should be a five minute walk. Hopefully, Elmina found what she needed and could take care of the last wounds. If they moved this slowly, even a walk of 20 miles could take two days or more.
A quarter mile wasn't much, at least it shouldn't be to her, but she was slowly getting aware of the fact that they really were out in the middle of nowhere and her equipment was considerably worse than the last time she'd been out here, especially considering she had no idea where she was or where she was headed. At least I'm not alone this time.
"Might I have the name of my saviour?"
The raspy voice and thick accent distracted her from her not-so-fond memories and she turned her face to see the man she was carrying smiling at her, a charm about him as if he wasn't injured or weak. She met his eyes - her own not glittering as pure gold, as he had hoped, but flecked with emerald - and there was a strength in them that was mesmerizing: The will of a man who had ruled a country and cheated death. It was blemished by his agony but she had watched people fall to pieces even at the mere prospect of physical injury and torture and while she hadn't experienced exactly what he was going through, seeing the bloody gauze at his cheek made her scars itch and she remembered all too well that her own pain, confusion and isolation had brought her within an inch of breaking.
"Christine", she said softly, giving him a weak, encouraging smile. "I've been called other things, flattering and not, but my name is Christine. I'm not the one who saved you from the wreck, though."
That was when one of the newer arrivals, an attractive man who looked like he was about her age, came within talking distance and engaged Makarid in a conversation. Christine noticed that he was careful not to come too close, well aware of the gun in her hand. In truth, she wasn't sure if she could have reacted quickly enough if one of the people around her decided to attack her now but she hoped that she had made enough of an impression on them that nobody would try. That, and she was assuming that the other blonde - her name was Laura, right? - was watching her back and looking out for the old man with the medicine.
"I had a government job..."
She listened to the exchange and, when it was over, chuckled to herself.
"'Government job', was it?", she whispered to the man at her shoulder. "You're selling yourself short, President Ristachev."
As she did, the cryochamber - what was left of it anyway - came into view. It had taken longer than it should have, 10, 15 minutes for what should be a five minute walk. Hopefully, Elmina found what she needed and could take care of the last wounds. If they moved this slowly, even a walk of 20 miles could take two days or more.
Be nice and give our glorious GM a show of hands, so she knows what/how many posts to wait for before the timeskip.
That being said, some things can be tied into a post right after. I'll try to react to Ristachev/Eli sometime today, either before or after work, but it's not so important that @Rosalind you have to wait if you want to make that post today, so as far as I'm concerned, post whenever son and work give you enough time to. ;)
That being said, some things can be tied into a post right after. I'll try to react to Ristachev/Eli sometime today, either before or after work, but it's not so important that @Rosalind you have to wait if you want to make that post today, so as far as I'm concerned, post whenever son and work give you enough time to. ;)
@Kingfisher@Jbcool Threesome with Hemi?
@Rosalind Sounds like my thursday evening. ^^
...
The alcohol part, not the service men. Not that I can remember, anyway.
@Kingfisher Good. Good. Let the fanfiction flow through you.
...
The alcohol part, not the service men. Not that I can remember, anyway.
@Kingfisher Good. Good. Let the fanfiction flow through you.
@Kingfisher That they do. But do guys? Cause right now, all Makarid sees is the side without shrapnel scars. ^^"
I can already picture them, cuddling by the fire, bonding over past crimes and injuries. XD
I can already picture them, cuddling by the fire, bonding over past crimes and injuries. XD
@Kingfisher My my, sounds like the good president has a drop-dead dangerous redheads. :P
And having his face slashed open doesn't seem to dampen his charm any.
@Moon That you did, though Eli will have to speak them out if he wants to make enemies. ;)
And having his face slashed open doesn't seem to dampen his charm any.
@Moon That you did, though Eli will have to speak them out if he wants to make enemies. ;)
@Jbcool This Fall, one man is gonna turn your culinary world upside down.
Prepare yourself for the next generation of Dystopian dining.
Cooking with Cannibals - Coming for to you, Mondays on CBS.
Prepare yourself for the next generation of Dystopian dining.
Cooking with Cannibals - Coming for to you, Mondays on CBS.
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