Mivuli

Rica's FxF 18+ 1x1 Hunt Fandom and Original (Updated Consistently)

Are you still looking for You've Changed So Much?

Closed.

Oh wow, I remember reading this series. It would be pretty fun to see it converted to an RP.
(and I apologise if this is too lengthy. I could attempt to shorten it if it is a problem)

Lim Ming Hua, Noah

Lim Ming Hua, Noah

With messy and overgrown hair that looks chestnut under a bright light but otherwise appears raven-black and can never be tamed with a comb, Ming Hua (or Noah, he has no preference) has a rather scruffy appearance. Thin and lanky, with lean muscles that aren’t prominent enough to intimidate anyone, really, Ming Hua is made up entirely of odd edges and curves, tapered fingers and chin and olive skin. He stands 1.77m (5’8”) and weighs 55kg (121lb), making for a slight and lightweight figure. He has black eyes that glitter when he smiles, and grow – somehow – darker when he glowers. He looks fine-boned, delicate even, but he can hold his own fair enough. He has a mouth that loves to curve into a smile – the smaller and more teasing, the better – and feet that are quick to side-step him out of any sticky situation.

Age:

15

Gender:

Male

Birthday:

30 November

Age:

Mutant

Power: Speed

As is probably easy to guess, Ming Hua can accelerate incredibly fast. He has always liked to sprint, used to spend his days running away from a raised hand, but that has taken on new meaning now that he could probably run a hundred-meter dash under three seconds without losing breath. He used to perform magic tricks to entertain the younger kids in his primary school, and sleight of hand has reached new levels now that his agility has improved tremendously. Landing punches on him or focusing on him as a target in general is made more difficult when Ming Hua just can’t keep still.

Coates

Personality:

Ming Hua is deft when he moves, and his tongue is just as smart and quick. Often delivering raw truth in more palatable forms of raw humour, he prefers not to bar honesty from people. He tends to say lack of integrity is a form of disrespect – and he does believe that, to a degree – but he really just enjoys being frank. Mostly because he is his own harshest critic, and isn’t inclined to spare others from his barbed tongue. At the same time, this doesn’t define Ming Hua as a heartless boy who will crush souls and dreams and call it a game. He is a decent human being, with empathy and compassion, and he tries to treat others the way he would like to be treated.

He can be deceptive at times, and when the going gets tough he will not be afraid to do what it takes to survive. But on a good day, he’s largely a pacifist: meaning that, in a confrontation, he would rather negotiate a compromise rather than bulldoze his way over the opposite party, simply because he wouldn’t like to be steamrolled over himself. It makes the confrontation less fun, and short-lived. Ming Hua isn't innocent to the ills that plague the world; he's seen them, and experienced some. But when it comes to worldly matters, he could be considered relatively fresh-faced.

He has a persistence about him that has borne him far in his brief lifespan and, when coupled with a penchant for laughter and cheekiness, moulds the mischievous boy you see before you, with a heart stemmed in sobriety and a – very much hidden – capacity for seriousness.

Brief History:

Ming Hua was born in Southeast Asia, and spent the better part of his early childhood in Singapore. He spent five years with a gang of ragtag rapscallions older than him who – when not pickpocketing or slipping roti (bread) from bakeries – taught him how to have fun, even with a growling stomach or a parched throat. There was no end to play in their dingy little alley where they were kings and queens of rubbish and cockroaches, but the easy life soon came to an end when authorities rounded them up and displaced them into proper homes.

It took Ming Hua another three years to settle into comfortable nights under a roof and blankets, huddled behind brick walls from the mercy – or lack thereof – of the cold. It took a little more than that for him to properly warm up to his foster parents, though he has never called them by the endearments Mama and Papa. He remembers little from the subsequent years of home, education, and drudging normalcy, but when time is sluggish his mind often turns to memories of his first friends, and their daily escapades on the streets involving angry merchants they’d stolen from. His foster parents – and himself – agree he came in a feral child of sorts, only he thinks of the term wistfully whereas they seem glad to have scrubbed that persona away from him. But sometimes – when he drifts between sleep and wakefulness, when a hulk of a school-boy shoves him roughly out of the way – he can see the black wide eyes of a boy from another lifetime staring back at him with an unsaid question, hollowed from constant hunger but brimming with the twinkling joy of an unleashed stray.

There is a certain beauty in free savagery, and just as many creature comforts to be had in structure and order.

Ming Hua was then relocated to America to further his studies overseas – it had always been a dream of his foster parents – and he has been under the homestay programme with a Mrs Rochester and her sallow husband. He took up the second name Noah after his first day in school when the teachers who tried to introduce him to the class butchered his Chinese name horribly, and he figured Ming Hua in America could be more of a nickname to the people who could pronounce it.

When the disappearing occurred, and the Rochesters disappeared from their home, Noah relived the freedom for but a second, before the mass disorderly chaos of the kids who had remained turned him off it. He liked his share of destruction, to be sure, but the scale at which it was being taken to was downright ridiculous. Despite his distaste, Noah began to align with the Coates rather than the Townies. He would follow his own rules; they could go about breaking someone else’s. But he feels irked by the Townie-Coate system, seeing as he doesn’t feel cemented in either. Noah thinks of himself more as a straggler, a bird to perch on the fence who could be swayed to either side at a turn of the wind. He’s not big on swearing allegiance so early in the war, and could easily be persuaded to defect to another side without much compunction.

Theme Song

Welcome to my Cupcake Wonderland (FxM, FxF) Mature 18+

Hey, I wouldn't mind discussing something with you for a bit!

FxF Zombie RP

This sounds interesting (:

Project Rehab

Lian Hui peered out from where she stood at her threshold, taking in the other recruits of the programme. She caught the flickering blue eyes of a blonde-haired girl for an instant, before her attention was turned to Elizabeth Dalton. She spoke almost cheerily of helping to be helped, of chances - or rather, a chance. Intriguing, how the authorities had made the first move by capturing them, and now pretended this was similar to a game of chess between them and the inmates. Make the right moves, and stand to gain. No, the playing field was far from even; the inmates were no players, only pawns. Lian Hui listened impassively to their mission, feeling her feet carry her into the corridor. At once, quivering laser-points were trained on her. The inmates had yet to exit the facility, but precautions were still being taken to corner their unleashed and collared hounds while they were still home.

A drug cartel was mentioned. Lian Hui imagined heat rising in an explosion, feeding on old wood, cocaine, and lives. Questions rose in her mind, like the smoke and ash that would soon be, as Cortez voiced immediate displeasure. Would there be casualties? Would they encounter stumbling blocks to nullify? And where, in all of this, would these individuals band together? Lian Hui peered around herself, as Cortez left through a blast door, at the prisoners with a master they were now to please. Cooperation would be a new lesson, after years of singular operation.

Lian Hui followed through to the armoury. She did not know what she would find. She had had few weapons to call her own, a sparse and scattered collection. She walked the perimeter of the room before she came across a suitcase lying benignly on a shelf at eye-level, tagged with the words 'L. H. Wong // Aconitum'. A canvas bag was propped up against it, similarly labelled, and unzipping it revealed a compartment with clothes that had been her disguise, and another with five daggers neatly sheathed on a belt and a smooth pistol.

Content with the weaponry haul, Lian Hui swung the straps over her shoulders. With her back to the rest of the room, she swiftly tugged off her prison-issued garments and pulled on the clothes she had found neatly-folded - combat trousers, a simple shirt and black leather vest - before moving onto the suitcase and ran her fingers over it. It was a black case, sturdy, with a combination padlock. Lian Hui toyed with the numbers, hands working deftly to the first code that came to her mind, like a thought that had been waiting to be formed.

The lock clicked open.

She cracked the lid open, and pursed her lips to hold in the breath that would not expel. None of the chemistry equipment it held was personally familiar to her, but she knew their purposes, if not their contours and edges. But those she soon would too. Test-tubes, autonomous Bunsen burners with their own gas canisters, beakers, measuring cylinders - the foundation to any laboratory were there. But so were micropipettes, syringes, and even sealed canisters of corrosive chemicals, though Lian Hui was far more inclined towards the few colourful leaves and blossoms packed away in vacuum-sealed packets. There were vials too - some already filled with liquids Lian Hui would need but a sniff to identify - and a secure drawstring pouch she now recalled contained powder that would burn and blind upon contact. Her last discovery, here with her now, to complete a circuit that had been broken. Now, delayed, Lian Hui could feel the time she had lost creeping back on her, devoid of memories and sensations that should have coloured the memories, but were instead missing and grey.

Lian Hui locked the suitcase once more, and boarded the plane, deciding that perhaps the chessboard was not destined to be entirely dull.

As they flew in the plane, Cortez busied himself with whetting his blades, and sharing his stories. Before Lian Hui could feel a flicker of doubt, he hastened to clarify he had not committed sabotage. Lian Hui gazed at him, waiting for disgust or perhaps worry to gnaw at the insides of her cheeks and leave them raw with distrust. But the emotions didn't come, and eventually she looked away to put the briefcase into the backpack instead.

When it came time to jump, Lian Hui lined up with the rest, an eye open for demonstrations. Her parachute was strapped onto her, light and tight against her spine, as though to impress upon her that her life would - in just under a minute - lie cradled in its canvas sheet. She allowed herself a moment of stillness to peer into an abyss of height and fog, before she took a step, and hurtled toward ground.

Diagrams and graphs and curves she had encountered in Physics textbooks once upon a time - in a bid by Manchineel to see her pick up another science - flashed in her thoughts. Terminal velocity, zero acceleration came to mind as the Earth came into focus. Indistinct shapes began to take on meaning to form trees and mountainlines again. As Lian Hui felt her speed come to a constant, and saw the ground come closer and closer, she groped for the string and tugged it.

At once, her navel was lurched back as the parachute opened in a flutter behind her. She heard the wind roar in her ears, scrape her cheeks, as her lungs struggled to reclaim the breath that had been jolted out of her, until - steadily - she came to a drift over the jungle.

She had been right. She hadn't been frightened by the fall. She couldn't feel adrenaline rushing in her veins, no thrill of stepping into Death's arms, only to wrench away at the last second, that would leave her worn by the time she reached solid ground again. Not for the first time, Lian Hui wondered where the fear, the excitement, was as she glided over a clearing.

She hadn't found an answer when she landed, and so she occupied herself with unclipping the parachute. It lay sprawled over twigs and leaf litter, and keeping it promised to be only a hassle. Lian Hui tugged at the corners to fold it once - twice, and then disposed of the attempt entirely. She produced the belt of knives from her bag to buckle around her waist, and tied the drawstring pouch along, tucking in a few discrete vials. The belt came with a holster for the pistol, and that too was added to the ensemble.

Finished, Lian Hui turned to the others who had landed, to ask, "Where to now?"

Project Rehab

http://www.havocscope.com Found it on Tumblr, and thought it might be relevant for this roleplay.

So, let me guess— you just started a new book, right? And you’re stumped. You have no idea how much an AK47 goes for nowadays. I get ya, cousin. Tough world we live in. A writer’s gotta know, but them NSA hounds are after ya 24/7. I know, cousin, I know. If there was only a way to find out all of this rather edgy information without getting yourself in trouble…

You’re in luck, cousin. I have just the thing for ya.

It’s called Havocscope. It’s got information and prices for all sorts of edgy information. Ever wondered how much cocaine costs by the gram, or how much a kidney sells for, or (worst of all) how much it costs to hire an assassin?

I got your back, cousin. Just head over to Havocscope.

((PS: In case you’re wondering, Havocscope is a database full of information regarding the criminal underworld. The information you will find there has been taken from newspapers and police reports. It’s perfectly legal, no need to worry about the NSA hounds, cousin ;p))

maxkirin.tumblr.com

Ink On Your Soul - New Beginnings

Haha can't wait to meet everyone human or no then

Ink On Your Soul - New Beginnings

The few hours Mia had had after her shift ended had been a whirlwind of panic and calm. Delilah - flustered, excitable, and so incredibly dependable - had gone to unsolicited lengths, jolted to action by the words, "Delilah, I'm going to need a dress."

Mia's usual jeans and crewneck shirts were done away with. Delilah had plenty of dresses it appeared, which she was just too eager to pass on to Mia for the night. She had played dress-up with Mia as her mannequin, growing increasingly tense as the hour hand crept slowly on, before finally she stepped away from Mia in a turqoise dress that swept the back of her ankles, and nodded, satisfied.

Mia had only just sighed her relief, ready to gather her skirts and leave, when Delilah forced her back into her seat and produced the most complete make-up set she had ever seen. "You've been waiting for the chance to play fairy-godmother your whole life," Mia said, recoiling into her chair as Delilah waved a mascara wand dangerously near her eyes.

"Nonsense," Delilah said flippantly, her entire face a work of concentration. "Just to get a daughter I can do this to on a regular basis. Now if you could just stop looking so afraid I'll poke your eyes out that would be great."

The only thing Mia feared - apart, admittedly, from that - was that Delilah would make her unrecognisable. But when she got to look in the mirror once more, she didn't see another creature altogether. It was still her reflection staring back with eyes wide, but...different, somehow, in a way Mia couldn't tell.

Delilah pulled away, capping the lipstick, and beamed at her. "Now go, and take pictures!" Hustled out of the apartment with a purse stuffed into her hands, Mia got into a cab and was waved off by Delilah, before she could get in a profuse word of thanks.

Mia arrived at the theatre, met with a swarm of people who each looked different from the next, but all similar in their intent to listen to Solenne play. She found a place toward the side of the hall, not quite sure what to do with herself but feeling her skin thrum with quiet excitement. She caught sight of fans in Nocturnal t-shirts, who proved themselves to be a supportive fanbase when the main attraction stepped out onto the stage.

Solenne greeted the audience, and Mia smiled to herself. She had only just met the man, but she was beginning to feel an irrevocable pull towards him. She sucked in her breath with the rest of the crowd when he played the first trick of the night, but the spell for her was quickly broken with a breathless laughter, as the immaculate copies all reported to their stations and instruments. Settling in, Mia prepared herself for an impeccable show.

Ink On Your Soul - New Beginnings

I was looking through the Characters page and I've got to ask, are any other characters humans? Or is Mia the only one?

Also, I've got exams coming up for the next week or so, so I may not be very responsive for a while. But I'll get a post up tomorrow!

Ink On Your Soul - New Beginnings

With short black hair, a pale complexion, and a petite build standing at 165cm (roughly 5’5”), Mia avoids wearing make-up, and doesn’t have any piercings or tattoos.

Midnight Moon

Name: Mia Adams
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Species: Human
Sexual Preference: Pansexual
Likes: | Authenticity | Honesty | The Internet | Alternative rock |
Dislikes: | Tension and conflict | Formality |

Bio: Mia may have passed 18, but she doesn’t feel like an adult. While she’s mature enough to have a good head on her shoulders, she lacks experience, coming from a small Southeast Asian country, and a life of relative average-ness. Moving to the West meant immersing herself in an entirely new culture, when she’s spent her entire life steeped in traditionalism. Of course, that isn’t to say Mia’s a stick-in-the-mud. She accepts people readily, but doesn’t adapt easily to new situations. As a child, she would make few friends in school, since she spent a large part of her time keeping quiet until someone spoke to her first. But once she met good friends willing to coax a response out of her, she was completely at home. Mia’s come out of her shell a bit since then, and has learnt how to take the first step in introducing herself. However, she will only do so if the other person doesn’t first, and she finds it worth the while to meet someone new.

Completely easy-going, Mia’s first priority is to live a good, balanced life, and figure the rest out later, which has led to her being absolutely carefree in selecting her peers. She’s been friends with scholars and delinquents, class-toppers and students who can’t figure out quadratic equations. Some have been good influences, others questionable. But Mia doesn’t keep in touch much with her past friends, now that she has moved overseas; perhaps just the key few.

Her parents initially didn’t approve much of her leaving the country, but that was just their protective instincts kicking into gear. (These are, of course, the same people who previously forbade her from dating until she was 30. They later brought that number down to 20) While they’ve let her leap from under their conjoined wings, they continue to keep tabs on her via phone calls and make it a point to let Mia know that they still don’t whole-heartedly agree with their daughter living alone in a foreign land, working at a coffee-shop. But parents will be parents.

Occupation: Barista

Country of Origin: Singapore

Feelings about meeting her soul mate: Anticipation, with a dash of disbelief. While it seems the ink has had a good track record so far – successfully and historically match-making people with their intendeds – that has never erased Mia’s concerns that she will somehow not match up, or that this one time the system will fail her. She wants to live with no regrets, so finding someone right – be it with the help of the ink or not – to be with for the rest of her life is vital to her.