Sixx Member
real life space cat
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- Sixx 10 yrs ago
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Cats are great.
That's all you need to know.
That's all you need to know.
Most Recent Posts
At my prom (I had mine when I was 16 instead of 18 because we finish high school at 16 and then have two extra years of school at 6th form/college, which is essentially just more school), my date got crowned prom king and spent the entire night dancing whilst I spent it sat with my best friend, playing with a candle... I almost set fire to the table and his suit too, uh, oops?
The Incredible John said
Sure, that would be great. Although John, my character, wouldn't approve on getting high on your own supply.
Eros wouldn't care, as long it didn't interfere too much with business.
The Incredible John said
Damn, I need somebody to play the the drug dealer
Eros could fill that role for you, if you like? That is, if you still don't have anyone else in mind.
You're also a horror film.... Yay?
Name: Eros Arco
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Straight, but she's open to ideas
Race: White American
Position: drug user, but she deals a little on the side.
Personality: Eros is one of those people who, according to her, has never, ever done anything wrong. She'd like to think she was the innocent flower, whose life had just not been kind to her and, through a series of unfortunate incidents, she landed up in the slums, but the reality she's more like the serpent underneath. Manipulative yet charming, she's the kind of girl that strongly believes that, not only does the world revolve around her, but literally anything is possible when you have a pretty face. And fortunately enough for her, she's always known she was pretty. If she's not aimlessly trying to double cross you for no other reason than she can, she's actually pretty friendly, and would happily defend those she considers 'friends' as if her life counted on it. Having said that, however, if it came down to it, and she really had to risk her life to save someone else, she'd happily push them under the bus in the name of self preservation. In her head, she always come first. No exceptions.
Appearance: Eros is skinny, unnaturally so, but then again, what can you expect when you spend half your time on drugs that restrict your appetite? Her dirty blonde hair naturally sits half way down her back, but she often finds she can't be bothered dealing with it as it's too curly, and tangles easily, so ties it up in a high ponytail. The little money Eros does actually make goes on keeping herself clean, mainly. It's always been said that, for someone who lives in the slums, she's surprisingly well kept. She can most often be seen in a bright red lipstick to contrast her pale skin and gold toned eyeshadow to highlight her emerald eyes. Some say she spends too much on make up, but it's gotten to the point where she really couldn't care less.
History: Born and raised on the North side of the river, Eros' life wasn't always as dirty as it is now. Her parents divorced when she was little and her dad moved out, but that didn't mean her mother couldn't provide for the family sufficiently. It meant she was out a lot though, always busy with work or going on an endless amount of first dates with men that she'd met over the internet. There wasn't enough time in the day to care for a daughter that was just going to school, and so Eros learnt to take care of herself, and ensure that if she couldn't get attention from her mum, she'd make sure she got it from everyone else.
By high school, she almost popular. The friends she'd had were ones she'd gained when she was younger, sticking her claws into the smart kids, the naive kids, anyone that she could twist around her finger by batting her eyelashes and pretending she needed their help. She was under the impression that she could do anything as long as she was pretty, but the obsession with beauty quickly turned toxic. She found herself restricting her eating so she could lose weight, telling her friends she'd already eaten so she could skip meals, hell, even throwing her fingers down her throat to purge her stomach of its contents every once in a while. She didn't see the problem with it, but she also knew she couldn't tell anyone, so she didn't. She kept it secret and kept it hidden, offering the whole world the same smile every day, just as long as she just kept losing weight. She became very secretive, quickly pulling away from the friends she'd gained over the years in favor of her own company, maybe some alcohol every once in a while.
It threw her home life way out of whack. By the time all this had happened, her mother had actually settled down and found a boyfriend, someone that could take care of Eros and her mother, if only Eros thought she needed taking care of. She was determined that she didn't need her mum or her boyfriend anymore, so set in the idea that they didn't really understand what was going on, and couldn't help even if they tried. She just needed a way out, a way to pull away from the few people that actually still gave a crap about her. And that's when she met Reed, part time jackass and full time druggie.
Reed was older, you see. Reed was the kind of guy girls only dreamed of meeting and dating. He was hot, mysterious, and old enough to have a house of his own, who cared if it was on the South side of the city? A house was a house, right? Or, that's what Eros thought anyway. She fell into a toxic relationship with the guy, he'd let her stay if she gave him what he wanted, whenever he wanted it. He introduced her to his 'friends', and it wasn't long until the social pressure drove her to drugs, and lots of them. To put it simply, if you can think of it, Eros probably did it. It didn't take long for her and Reed to fall out, however, as she was too stubborn to do some of the things he wanted, and she'd be damned if someone else told her what to do. So she left and found a place of her own, selling the drugs she didn't actually take to get by. It wasn't a pretty life, but she enjoyed it all the same.
I hope this is okay. Uhm, yeah..
I'm writing up a CS now, will probably be some sort of drug user, but I'm not sure yet.
'ight, finally replied >.<
..That took me waaaay longer than I intended it to. I swear I have the attention span of a gnat sometimes
..That took me waaaay longer than I intended it to. I swear I have the attention span of a gnat sometimes
Spencer had had his fair share of weird and strange experiences in his life, but nothing came in comparison to this; sat in a van with eight other people, being told to do what he was told or die, essentially. The atmosphere in the back of the van was sober, to say the least. Some were on the verge of tears, others had clearly already cried, their puffy cheeks already stained with crystal tears. Spark, on the other hand, was surprisingly apathetic, or in shock, he wasn't quite sure. He sat, fingers obsessively playing with the lighter that he'd found in his pocket, a nervous habit he'd picked up years ago and never really gotten round to stopping, gaze drilling into the blank metal side of the van, unwilling to stray too far in case someone thought he was looking at them, maybe even judging. Not that he really had to, he'd known most of them in high school anyway, they just weren't very good friends. In fact, by the way everyone seemed to be looking around at each other, it seemed no one really knew anyone... Not that he planned on pointing that out any time soon. Honestly, he didn't even plan on speaking unless someone specifically spoke to him first, determined that he'd probably on drop himself into more shit by doing so, if it was even possible for the situation to get worse. Shaking his head, Spark resorted to thinking back of the events that had just happened, part of him determined that this was just some messed up dream and that he'd wake up tomorrow morning perfectly fine, the entire town still intact.
"Spencer Levi Small get your lazy butt down here right this instance!" His mother's southern twang rang through the tiny house, echoing from the kitchen all the way up to Spark's room, where he sat, lazily strumming the strings of his guitar as he hummed the tune to Cold Hard Bitch by Jet. With a lazy sigh, he pulled himself off the bed, dropping the guitar back on the bed as he ran his hand through his hair, brow furrowing as he tried to figure out exactly what his mother would want. He hadn't done anything wrong, and she'd already banned him from going to prom. What more could one woman want, really? He practically stumbled down the stairs, still not used to the way the carpet was starting to curl upwards at the corners, slowly revealing the old wooden floor underneath, and entered the kitchen where his mother stood with her hands on her hips, undersized shirt revealing just a little too much of her flat stomach for Spark's liking. "I thought we established that you are not allowed to play guitar whilst you are grounded!"
"Sorry ma," was all he could reply, not quite sure how he was expected to respond, other than to apologise and promise not to do it again.
"Sorry?! I'm very disappointed in you, y'know. If I can't trust you to follow simple rules what can I trust you to do? It's despicable! Just wait until I tell your father-"
"Until you tell his father what?" Another voice cut her off. It was his dad, stood tall in the doorway of the kitchen, arms folded defensively across his body as he leaned against the door, raising a curious eyebrow at the woman.
"He was playing guitar in his room again, Levi, what else I supposed to do? Can't think with that racket going on up-"
"Jesus, all this over him playing an instrument? Cut him some slack, Della, you've already grounded him on prom night."
"I am standing by what I-" Della began, face slowly going redder and redder as her husband continued to cut her off, until eventually she was as red as the lipstick she wore.
"Sparky, kiddo, why don't you go for a walk, get some air, yeah?" he paused, "this could go on for a while." He offered Spencer a small smile, which he meekly returned, slowly backing out of the kitchen before his mother could swing an insult in his direction, probably raving about how he was about as useful as tits on a bull, or something equally ridiculous. He quickly grabbed his hoodie and pulled it on, suddenly all too glad he'd never bothered to take his shoes off when he got home, and slammed the door shut behind him. Unsurprisingly, the shouting from the kitchen could still he heard from their pathetic excuse for a lawn, but what else could you expect when your walls were about as thick as paper?
Spencer shrugged it off, shoving his hands deep into his hoodie pockets as he made his way along the uneven sidewalk, trying not to think too much about what just happened when there was a loud bang and the ground below him shook, knocking him off his feet as he tumbled to the ground, turning just in time to see a cloud of black ash coming towards him, the tiny houses surrounding him quickly turning to rubble. Exactly what happened, he didn't know, nor did he really care. He'd already pulled himself off the ground, ignoring the stinging sensation in his leg as he pegged it away from the scene, natural instincts already deciding that, whatever the hell was going on, he wanted no part of it. He was coughing and spluttering, ash of the fallen houses clogging his senses, making him not even want to open his eyes in case he ended up blinded by some sort of debris.
It was only then that the van hurtled down the road towards him, and part of him was positive that it was just going keep driving and that he'd end up roadkill, but then it slowed down, and a man Spark didn't recognise told him to get in if he wanted to live and he didn't question it. He wanted to live, and, unfortunately, the stranger seemed like the only way to ensure it; he bailed in, only taking a second to glance around at all the other familiar faces before sinking back into a seat, the reality of what was going on only just hitting him.
Everyone was dead. That was the truth of it. His mother, who he'd argued constantly with since he was around five, was dead. His dad, who'd spent most of his life since Spencer was born defending him whenever he even did the slightest thing wrong, was dead. The few friends he'd actually managed to make during his time at school were, you guessed it, dead. And for some reason, he wasn't, and he intended to keep it that way.
When they finally all bailed out of the van, the dense foliage suggesting it was some kind of forest, Spark didn't even have a phone to hand over. His mother had taken it off him when he was initially grounded, claiming he could have it back when he 'learnt to have a little more respect', which clearly he'd never managed. With a tired sigh, he picked up one of the rucksacks off the ground, swinging it onto his back as he finally looked around at everyone else, even daring to offer Lillah a reassuring smile, or, as much of one as he could muster up. He wasn't very hopeful for their odds, truth be told, but he'd learn to get over it.
"Spencer Levi Small get your lazy butt down here right this instance!" His mother's southern twang rang through the tiny house, echoing from the kitchen all the way up to Spark's room, where he sat, lazily strumming the strings of his guitar as he hummed the tune to Cold Hard Bitch by Jet. With a lazy sigh, he pulled himself off the bed, dropping the guitar back on the bed as he ran his hand through his hair, brow furrowing as he tried to figure out exactly what his mother would want. He hadn't done anything wrong, and she'd already banned him from going to prom. What more could one woman want, really? He practically stumbled down the stairs, still not used to the way the carpet was starting to curl upwards at the corners, slowly revealing the old wooden floor underneath, and entered the kitchen where his mother stood with her hands on her hips, undersized shirt revealing just a little too much of her flat stomach for Spark's liking. "I thought we established that you are not allowed to play guitar whilst you are grounded!"
"Sorry ma," was all he could reply, not quite sure how he was expected to respond, other than to apologise and promise not to do it again.
"Sorry?! I'm very disappointed in you, y'know. If I can't trust you to follow simple rules what can I trust you to do? It's despicable! Just wait until I tell your father-"
"Until you tell his father what?" Another voice cut her off. It was his dad, stood tall in the doorway of the kitchen, arms folded defensively across his body as he leaned against the door, raising a curious eyebrow at the woman.
"He was playing guitar in his room again, Levi, what else I supposed to do? Can't think with that racket going on up-"
"Jesus, all this over him playing an instrument? Cut him some slack, Della, you've already grounded him on prom night."
"I am standing by what I-" Della began, face slowly going redder and redder as her husband continued to cut her off, until eventually she was as red as the lipstick she wore.
"Sparky, kiddo, why don't you go for a walk, get some air, yeah?" he paused, "this could go on for a while." He offered Spencer a small smile, which he meekly returned, slowly backing out of the kitchen before his mother could swing an insult in his direction, probably raving about how he was about as useful as tits on a bull, or something equally ridiculous. He quickly grabbed his hoodie and pulled it on, suddenly all too glad he'd never bothered to take his shoes off when he got home, and slammed the door shut behind him. Unsurprisingly, the shouting from the kitchen could still he heard from their pathetic excuse for a lawn, but what else could you expect when your walls were about as thick as paper?
Spencer shrugged it off, shoving his hands deep into his hoodie pockets as he made his way along the uneven sidewalk, trying not to think too much about what just happened when there was a loud bang and the ground below him shook, knocking him off his feet as he tumbled to the ground, turning just in time to see a cloud of black ash coming towards him, the tiny houses surrounding him quickly turning to rubble. Exactly what happened, he didn't know, nor did he really care. He'd already pulled himself off the ground, ignoring the stinging sensation in his leg as he pegged it away from the scene, natural instincts already deciding that, whatever the hell was going on, he wanted no part of it. He was coughing and spluttering, ash of the fallen houses clogging his senses, making him not even want to open his eyes in case he ended up blinded by some sort of debris.
It was only then that the van hurtled down the road towards him, and part of him was positive that it was just going keep driving and that he'd end up roadkill, but then it slowed down, and a man Spark didn't recognise told him to get in if he wanted to live and he didn't question it. He wanted to live, and, unfortunately, the stranger seemed like the only way to ensure it; he bailed in, only taking a second to glance around at all the other familiar faces before sinking back into a seat, the reality of what was going on only just hitting him.
Everyone was dead. That was the truth of it. His mother, who he'd argued constantly with since he was around five, was dead. His dad, who'd spent most of his life since Spencer was born defending him whenever he even did the slightest thing wrong, was dead. The few friends he'd actually managed to make during his time at school were, you guessed it, dead. And for some reason, he wasn't, and he intended to keep it that way.
When they finally all bailed out of the van, the dense foliage suggesting it was some kind of forest, Spark didn't even have a phone to hand over. His mother had taken it off him when he was initially grounded, claiming he could have it back when he 'learnt to have a little more respect', which clearly he'd never managed. With a tired sigh, he picked up one of the rucksacks off the ground, swinging it onto his back as he finally looked around at everyone else, even daring to offer Lillah a reassuring smile, or, as much of one as he could muster up. He wasn't very hopeful for their odds, truth be told, but he'd learn to get over it.
I got distracted by supernatural.. Oops. I'm actually writing up a post now.
I'm going to post once I finish this sequence in Assassin Creed III I can't get 100% sync on it and it's really bugging me
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