France is my new favourite country and if anyone says anything bad about it they'll get a strongly worded baguette across the chops.
TwelveOf8
Member
The second apostle is mine.
STATUS: Now that I have given up video games I should have a lot more time to RP now. I'm sure that I'm not the first person to have declared this but hopefully I won't be the last. 7 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 7 yrs ago
- Joined: 10 yrs ago
- Posts: 1249 (0.34 / day)
- VMs: 4
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Username history
- TwelveOf8 10 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
7 yrs ago
Current
Now that I have given up video games I should have a lot more time to RP now. I'm sure that I'm not the first person to have declared this but hopefully I won't be the last.
2
likes
7 yrs ago
To all those who are awaiting a post from me I'm sorry. I have no excuses. I expect the very best from myself and frankly that kind of pressure brings about some major procrastination.
7 yrs ago
I very well may be the worst fps player the world has ever known.
5
likes
7 yrs ago
Has anyone heard of this Smitty Werbenjagermanjensen guy? They say he's number one.
4
likes
7 yrs ago
Alright, no more screwing around. I have to get started on my various projects. I can't let another week go by with nothing done. Lady France awaits and I'm not getting any younger.
1
like
Bio
I guess this is where I explain myself.
All I can say is that my existence is an endless void occasionally interrupted by passing flashes of light.
Interlaced with a little randomness here and there to, ya know, keep things interesting.
Most Recent Posts
In
Sol City [Modern Slice of Life] . (CHAPTER ONE COMPLETED!) . ARCHIVED
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7 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
@Pilatus
If there is going to be a time skip soon then I should probably wait until afterwards to add my character.
If there is going to be a time skip soon then I should probably wait until afterwards to add my character.
"You're late." greeted Charles icily. His voice echoed off of the walls of the foyer of Lancaster Manor.
"We kinda ran into some trouble along the way. Nothin we couldn't handle but ya know." Chet explained dismissively.
"What!? What do I know!?" pressed Charles.
Chet sighed deeply before replying."It was the Slicks! They were at Lovers Haven doin some shit. We checked it out and it looked pretty lame so we decided to split. But there was this little kid. He shouldn't have been there. We took him home and stuff..." explained Chet. His explanation petered out when Chet noticed that same impatient and exasperated look that Charles wore whenever something began bothering him.
"As much as I appreciate your concern for the innocent youth of this fair town Chet you should've put your sworn duties ahead of whatever fanciful little whimsies you may entertain. Translation: Fuck that little shit, you should've been here on time. Now I'm pissed." said Charles threateningly.
Chet gave yet another deep sigh. As much as he sorely wanted to, he couldn't retaliate against Charles' rudeness and hostility. After all, he had the entire Salt Bay Turbos by the balls at the point. Chet knew that such a confrontation was going to happen though he cared not for he had much greater concerns at the fore. The kid, Toby, reminded Chet so much of himself at that age. Tagging along with the bigger and meaner kids. Getting dragged into things that he had no business dealing with at that stage of his life. Chet couldn't help but aid Toby in any way he could. Their trip to the malt shop was one of the happiest and most uplifting trips he had taken in a while. Doing a good deed while having a genuinely good time with friends was exactly what Chet needed. Whatever penalty Charles could throw down due to his tardiness was worth for that trip to the malt shop with Toby. And so there Chet stood, gritting his teeth whilst barely containing his rage.
"Well, it can't be helped. You came so late in the evening that I had to send the tailor home without any work being done. And you know how much I hate to bother humble tradespeople beyond their capacity. So I guess it can't be helped. I'll just have to take your measurements for you." said Charles a little too jovially.
"Sure, whatever you want. And the other guys? I sent them home. And don't worry, they don't need measurements or nothin. They're all pretty much built like Divo anyway." assured Chet.
"Whatever, you guys have probably never worn a fitted suit before in your lives anyway." dismissed Charles.
And so seemingly out of nowhere Charles took out a tape measurer, a small notepad, and a pencil. He then ordered Chet to adopt a wider than average casual stance whilst holding his arms straight out to his sides. Strangely enough for Chet, Charles began by squatting down and measuring his legs. Much like the old tailor himself, Charles took forever to take those measurements. Charles brushed up against Chets crotch more than a few times. Chet couldn't help but notice that Charles did it a little too slowly and forcefully for it to be an accident.
"Hey! What the hell you fag!" exclaimed Chet.
"Shut the fuck up! I'm trying to concentrate!" retorted Charles.
Chet was about to respond with "yeah, concentrate on my dick" but then he wisely decided to hold back. He didn't want to annoy Charles anymore than he needed to. And what seemed like an eternity of awkward silence and crotch brushings later, Charles finally finished measuring his legs. He then stood up and began to measure Chets torso and arms.
Charles then suddenly stopped in his tracks. "Your shirt's dirty and it stinks. It disgusts me. Take it off. he ordered.
"Wha.." Chet began to question.
"You heard me!" snapped Charles.
Even though Chet had never been to a fitting before, no doubt even he knew that it was a strange request. This request in particular though Chet was more than willing to fulfill. He was a little sweaty from all the stuff they did that afternoon and black leather wasn't exactly the most breathable material. Besides all that Chet always jumped at the chance to show off his athletic body to anyone. As much as he hated the horrible morning drills his father put him through, he did take pride in how strong they made him. And so without further delay. Chet removed his shirt. He sported a rather well developed set of pecs as well as a set of four pack abs that were burgeoning on a six pack. Chet had some body hair as well but it was sparse enough to not hide his physique.
Charles froze in his tracks. He couldn't help but stare at Chet in all his glory. A slight smile curled at the edge of Charles' lips. Without another word he began to measure the dimensions of Chets upper body. Yet again he took an eternity in taking his measurements and once again his "accidental" brushing wasn't very subtle. At long last, Charles order Chet to drop his arms to his side.
"About damn time! My shoulders were killing me!" Chet complained.
Charles stood up from the stooped position he adopted while he took Chets measurements. He stood face to face with him, almost nose to nose. They stood there in such close proximity for just a moment, though for Chet that moment stretched into eternity. A look of hunger and greed slowly spread across Charles face.
"You're a fine specimen Chet. I can really use you." commented Charles.
"What do you mean?" asked Chet rather nervously.
It was then that Charles grabbed the waistline of Chets pants with his left hand and pulled him closer. With his right hand Charles then reached around the back of Chets head and pulled his face closer to his. Their lips met and soon they were locked. Charles' tongue danced in Chets mouth like a seductive serpent at a very fiery soiree. At first Chet felt alarmed at these turn of events. A instant later though he felt calm, then
passionate. Chets tongue then danced with Charles' well into the night.
"We kinda ran into some trouble along the way. Nothin we couldn't handle but ya know." Chet explained dismissively.
"What!? What do I know!?" pressed Charles.
Chet sighed deeply before replying."It was the Slicks! They were at Lovers Haven doin some shit. We checked it out and it looked pretty lame so we decided to split. But there was this little kid. He shouldn't have been there. We took him home and stuff..." explained Chet. His explanation petered out when Chet noticed that same impatient and exasperated look that Charles wore whenever something began bothering him.
"As much as I appreciate your concern for the innocent youth of this fair town Chet you should've put your sworn duties ahead of whatever fanciful little whimsies you may entertain. Translation: Fuck that little shit, you should've been here on time. Now I'm pissed." said Charles threateningly.
Chet gave yet another deep sigh. As much as he sorely wanted to, he couldn't retaliate against Charles' rudeness and hostility. After all, he had the entire Salt Bay Turbos by the balls at the point. Chet knew that such a confrontation was going to happen though he cared not for he had much greater concerns at the fore. The kid, Toby, reminded Chet so much of himself at that age. Tagging along with the bigger and meaner kids. Getting dragged into things that he had no business dealing with at that stage of his life. Chet couldn't help but aid Toby in any way he could. Their trip to the malt shop was one of the happiest and most uplifting trips he had taken in a while. Doing a good deed while having a genuinely good time with friends was exactly what Chet needed. Whatever penalty Charles could throw down due to his tardiness was worth for that trip to the malt shop with Toby. And so there Chet stood, gritting his teeth whilst barely containing his rage.
"Well, it can't be helped. You came so late in the evening that I had to send the tailor home without any work being done. And you know how much I hate to bother humble tradespeople beyond their capacity. So I guess it can't be helped. I'll just have to take your measurements for you." said Charles a little too jovially.
"Sure, whatever you want. And the other guys? I sent them home. And don't worry, they don't need measurements or nothin. They're all pretty much built like Divo anyway." assured Chet.
"Whatever, you guys have probably never worn a fitted suit before in your lives anyway." dismissed Charles.
And so seemingly out of nowhere Charles took out a tape measurer, a small notepad, and a pencil. He then ordered Chet to adopt a wider than average casual stance whilst holding his arms straight out to his sides. Strangely enough for Chet, Charles began by squatting down and measuring his legs. Much like the old tailor himself, Charles took forever to take those measurements. Charles brushed up against Chets crotch more than a few times. Chet couldn't help but notice that Charles did it a little too slowly and forcefully for it to be an accident.
"Hey! What the hell you fag!" exclaimed Chet.
"Shut the fuck up! I'm trying to concentrate!" retorted Charles.
Chet was about to respond with "yeah, concentrate on my dick" but then he wisely decided to hold back. He didn't want to annoy Charles anymore than he needed to. And what seemed like an eternity of awkward silence and crotch brushings later, Charles finally finished measuring his legs. He then stood up and began to measure Chets torso and arms.
Charles then suddenly stopped in his tracks. "Your shirt's dirty and it stinks. It disgusts me. Take it off. he ordered.
"Wha.." Chet began to question.
"You heard me!" snapped Charles.
Even though Chet had never been to a fitting before, no doubt even he knew that it was a strange request. This request in particular though Chet was more than willing to fulfill. He was a little sweaty from all the stuff they did that afternoon and black leather wasn't exactly the most breathable material. Besides all that Chet always jumped at the chance to show off his athletic body to anyone. As much as he hated the horrible morning drills his father put him through, he did take pride in how strong they made him. And so without further delay. Chet removed his shirt. He sported a rather well developed set of pecs as well as a set of four pack abs that were burgeoning on a six pack. Chet had some body hair as well but it was sparse enough to not hide his physique.
Charles froze in his tracks. He couldn't help but stare at Chet in all his glory. A slight smile curled at the edge of Charles' lips. Without another word he began to measure the dimensions of Chets upper body. Yet again he took an eternity in taking his measurements and once again his "accidental" brushing wasn't very subtle. At long last, Charles order Chet to drop his arms to his side.
"About damn time! My shoulders were killing me!" Chet complained.
Charles stood up from the stooped position he adopted while he took Chets measurements. He stood face to face with him, almost nose to nose. They stood there in such close proximity for just a moment, though for Chet that moment stretched into eternity. A look of hunger and greed slowly spread across Charles face.
"You're a fine specimen Chet. I can really use you." commented Charles.
"What do you mean?" asked Chet rather nervously.
It was then that Charles grabbed the waistline of Chets pants with his left hand and pulled him closer. With his right hand Charles then reached around the back of Chets head and pulled his face closer to his. Their lips met and soon they were locked. Charles' tongue danced in Chets mouth like a seductive serpent at a very fiery soiree. At first Chet felt alarmed at these turn of events. A instant later though he felt calm, then
passionate. Chets tongue then danced with Charles' well into the night.
Post will be up tomorrow
In
Sol City [Modern Slice of Life] . (CHAPTER ONE COMPLETED!) . ARCHIVED
→
7 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
In
Sol City [Modern Slice of Life] . (CHAPTER ONE COMPLETED!) . ARCHIVED
→
7 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
In
Sol City [Modern Slice of Life] . (CHAPTER ONE COMPLETED!) . ARCHIVED
→
7 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
@TwelveOf8
Your free to write up a location within reason.
We good for airports unless it's grass and a wind sock. And bars. Well I think we good with two to three plus a music venue.
We welcome locations, variety is nice but do not want too much overlap.
Don't worry, I won't add more than what is necessary. I will post my location here in the OOC section. Feel free to accept or reject my submission as you see fit.
In
Sol City [Modern Slice of Life] . (CHAPTER ONE COMPLETED!) . ARCHIVED
→
7 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
@Pilatus@PrinceAlexus
Before I submit my character sheet, I have a question. Am I able to add a location to Sol City or is it too late? I know this is an ever expanding world but will adding a new location be to your liking at this time?
Before I submit my character sheet, I have a question. Am I able to add a location to Sol City or is it too late? I know this is an ever expanding world but will adding a new location be to your liking at this time?
Chet issued forth a peal of laughter. It was the first time in a long time that he'd laughed like that. Chet felt that this kid, this Toby, was like the little brother he never had. His spirit was lifted and for that he was grateful. He cared not for the consequences of not showing up to one of Charles' creepy little fittings. All Chet cared about was making sure that Toby was safe and well taken care of. And that he hoped that he would never fall in with the Slicks again in the future. Unfortunately though, such a decision was out of Chets hands. As much as he cared for Toby, Chet was not his mother.
"You got it kid!" Chet exclaimed excitedly.
A few moments later the Salt Bay Turbos returned to their parked bikes on the fifth hairpin turn. Chet then mounted his hog and ignited the engine. It roared to life like a caged bull. And intense amount of power and aggression locked inside a metal cage that is the engine. Chet then flipped the kickstand back up into the bike.
"Get on kid, and hold on tight. I hope you aren't afraid of speed. Because we're gonna go fast." announced Chet.
"You got it kid!" Chet exclaimed excitedly.
A few moments later the Salt Bay Turbos returned to their parked bikes on the fifth hairpin turn. Chet then mounted his hog and ignited the engine. It roared to life like a caged bull. And intense amount of power and aggression locked inside a metal cage that is the engine. Chet then flipped the kickstand back up into the bike.
"Get on kid, and hold on tight. I hope you aren't afraid of speed. Because we're gonna go fast." announced Chet.
There once was a man, who is well known in his city. His name was John but on weekends it was Britney. On Sundays, his name was Carl. The rest of the time, it was 'dumbass'. And he has two things that always accompany him, a list of names and a worn-out red marker. It would surprise you to know that, while it went against the expected function, the marker was not for writing on paper.
Morning light filled the hospital, the smell of death hung in the air. The pale walls shone wetly. Above Dumbass's bed hung a portrait of the Quartermaster of the KSR, and by his nightstand was a comb and a brush and a bowl full of mush. John had ended up with a broken hip after tripping himself at the stair. Or, at least that's what he told the Doctors had broken his hip. In fact, it had been something far more sinister; autohypnotic asphyxiation. Heading back home, he saw, that the mayor's car had been entirely covered in cling film. Confused by his misadventures, he decided that a live tentacle porn show was the next best option.
He proceeded to go to the fishmongers, and detail precisely what his plan was. The Fishmonger agreed,
"Fourty dollars for fifteen minutes sounds fair." Dumbass reached into his pocket to find that he had forgotten his wallet at home.
"Do you accept IOUs?" Dumbass raised two middle fingers and asked. As a result, he received a look of disgust and a kick in the nuts. Swearing revenge Dumbass crawled away, winded and bruised. On top of that, he was slightly bemused.
Morning light filled the hospital, the smell of death hung in the air. The pale walls shone wetly. Above Dumbass's bed hung a portrait of the Quartermaster of the KSR, and by his nightstand was a comb and a brush and a bowl full of mush. John had ended up with a broken hip after tripping himself at the stair. Or, at least that's what he told the Doctors had broken his hip. In fact, it had been something far more sinister; autohypnotic asphyxiation. Heading back home, he saw, that the mayor's car had been entirely covered in cling film. Confused by his misadventures, he decided that a live tentacle porn show was the next best option.
He proceeded to go to the fishmongers, and detail precisely what his plan was. The Fishmonger agreed,
"Fourty dollars for fifteen minutes sounds fair." Dumbass reached into his pocket to find that he had forgotten his wallet at home.
"Do you accept IOUs?" Dumbass raised two middle fingers and asked. As a result, he received a look of disgust and a kick in the nuts. Swearing revenge Dumbass crawled away, winded and bruised. On top of that, he was slightly bemused.
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