Wreck Member
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- Wreck 11 yrs ago
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welcome back, Wreck
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I'm just going to get in the habit of bolding yall's characters as to draw attention.
A hush of mystery could be felt as it draped upon the few souls in the shadow-filled room of the apartment. The presence of the red skull bandanacommanded attention when she walked into the small, but miscellaneous fray of people that appeared to be gathered together on purpose. When she told of how she had collected them in this very place, the thought of someone having that much power over him made Tyven twitch; had he just been obeying her without realizing it? From what she said, he had. For some reason this uneased him, even more so than the walk over here from his prime spot earlier. Who was this red skull, and what did she want with all of them here? It felt like a trap; he was a caged animal. His blood pressure started to rise again, the pulse in his temple felt like it would explode. That wouldn't make for a very lovely first impression.
Tyven's bruised hand found it's way to the side of his head and cradled it as he tilted it with curiosity. A sharp stab in the middle of his palm made him think otherwise, and he quickly switched sides with his other hand. This was a strange predicament he was in, indeed. His pair of dark eyes glanced around the room at the othersthat were chosen; some he made eye contact with. How did he get here? The settled dust of the dank, creepy building settled in the back of his throat and instead of speaking with a gusto, his voice was dry when he asked his question. "Who the hell are you and why should I take orders from you?," his voice was sandy, and his stale glare settled on the red skull again as he waited for her answer.
Tyven's bruised hand found it's way to the side of his head and cradled it as he tilted it with curiosity. A sharp stab in the middle of his palm made him think otherwise, and he quickly switched sides with his other hand. This was a strange predicament he was in, indeed. His pair of dark eyes glanced around the room at the othersthat were chosen; some he made eye contact with. How did he get here? The settled dust of the dank, creepy building settled in the back of his throat and instead of speaking with a gusto, his voice was dry when he asked his question. "Who the hell are you and why should I take orders from you?," his voice was sandy, and his stale glare settled on the red skull again as he waited for her answer.
Two Door Cinema Club - Changing of The Seasons. It's a pretty amazing song for getting over someone or something. Seriously.
this tune will consume you*
* if you like indie hipster pop techno shit
this tune will consume you*
* if you like indie hipster pop techno shit
What the fuck is that?? Weirdly adorable.
9/10
9/10
Well, I can't say I haven't thought about your idea before. It would be interesting, yes. But I'm not too sure it would work out correctly. The 'auditions' you mentioned could add another dimension to roleplays, but don't you think it would require much more time to actually post in an RP if there was the acting element introduced? And furthermore, what if you can't find the correct voice your looking for? Would you need two actors to read the dialog and the narrative? There's too many 'what-ifs' in this case. I'd rather have others imagine how my character's voice is in their head. It also gives the other roleplayers some mystery or what have you about my character, as I think having a voice actor would be a bit perfectionist.
Welcome. Shoot me a PM sometime.
-W
-W
Welcome. Hope you enjoy your stay. PM me to chat or whatever.
-W
-W
What the hell am I doing.
Tyven's own voice echoed in the openness of the jittery nerves of his own mind. Each step his solid, canvas sneakers took towards the intended destination was another second of increasing anxiety and for him that wasn't a good thing. Thinking back to where he was before this very moment twisted his stomach inside out. Why did things like this make him so upset? Beads of sweat began to dot along his dark brown hairline and a drop formed on an even darker sideburn.
Suddenly, the frantic impulse that he had been evading the whole time caught up with him, and he stuffed his hands in the depths of his pockets to feel a small plastic bag with tablets in it. A tiny wave of relief radiated throughout his body as he felt a select one travel down his esophagus; he could never let anyone know how good it felt.
He didn't know he long it was until he reached the block where the note specified -- all he knew was that he was already extremely paranoid. The sweat that had beaded earlier had dripped several times onto his stained t-shirt that clung to the sides of his pale belly-flesh. The streets were too quiet. A full and bright moon mocked the solo man as wisps of night-light hugged the contours of his gaunty face, nearly turning him into a walking skeleton. It wasn't the first time he'd been out alone at night, oh no. But for some reason the blackness of the shadows between block buildings haunted his presence more so than usual. A tick had him rub the inside of his wrist where a knife accident left a nasty cut-bruise combination; the tremendous pain felt good. Tyven was genuinely afraid of what was to come.
The cameras that had followed him with their lenses focusing in and out turned toward where he was heading: the building. As he approached the site to where he was summoned, an uncalled for rush of anger overcame the fear, and without an announcement he leaped through an opened window with a single swift motion to confront the being who wooed him. Inside, he discovered three others.
"Who the fuck sent me this note," he directed to no one in particular. His hands crumpled the piece of paper into a ball that fit inside his wounded fist. The trail end of his question could be heard in the quaking rafters, and his voice shook with uncertainty.
Tyven's own voice echoed in the openness of the jittery nerves of his own mind. Each step his solid, canvas sneakers took towards the intended destination was another second of increasing anxiety and for him that wasn't a good thing. Thinking back to where he was before this very moment twisted his stomach inside out. Why did things like this make him so upset? Beads of sweat began to dot along his dark brown hairline and a drop formed on an even darker sideburn.
Suddenly, the frantic impulse that he had been evading the whole time caught up with him, and he stuffed his hands in the depths of his pockets to feel a small plastic bag with tablets in it. A tiny wave of relief radiated throughout his body as he felt a select one travel down his esophagus; he could never let anyone know how good it felt.
He didn't know he long it was until he reached the block where the note specified -- all he knew was that he was already extremely paranoid. The sweat that had beaded earlier had dripped several times onto his stained t-shirt that clung to the sides of his pale belly-flesh. The streets were too quiet. A full and bright moon mocked the solo man as wisps of night-light hugged the contours of his gaunty face, nearly turning him into a walking skeleton. It wasn't the first time he'd been out alone at night, oh no. But for some reason the blackness of the shadows between block buildings haunted his presence more so than usual. A tick had him rub the inside of his wrist where a knife accident left a nasty cut-bruise combination; the tremendous pain felt good. Tyven was genuinely afraid of what was to come.
The cameras that had followed him with their lenses focusing in and out turned toward where he was heading: the building. As he approached the site to where he was summoned, an uncalled for rush of anger overcame the fear, and without an announcement he leaped through an opened window with a single swift motion to confront the being who wooed him. Inside, he discovered three others.
"Who the fuck sent me this note," he directed to no one in particular. His hands crumpled the piece of paper into a ball that fit inside his wounded fist. The trail end of his question could be heard in the quaking rafters, and his voice shook with uncertainty.
You're signature changes quite often.
However, I'm not too fond of this one.
6/10
However, I'm not too fond of this one.
6/10
Hey. Welcome.
Wow, I'm bipolar. PM me sometime. I'd love a chat.
Wow, I'm bipolar. PM me sometime. I'd love a chat.
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