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‹ HARU ›

10/14/2021 12:10 PM 

;♡ RULES.

1. My rps are mature. They may contain smut.2. No one under 18+. By sending a friend request, or accepting mine. You are 18+. Characters must also be 18+.3. Please give me 1 paragraph minimum (I do para/multi-para).4. Romance is fine!~5. I can delete people as I please. If you ghost the rp I will delete you. This isn't my first time on here.6. No Discord, I am here to RP.7. Perfect grammar is not a must. Everyone makes mistakes.8. You add first, you talk first. Please.9. OCC be offline some times, so please, do not bother me about late replies.

Barely Human

10/13/2021 09:08 PM 

Bio

Fair warning there's a lot to read -Mortal lifeLouis de Pointe du Lac was born on October 4th 1766, having been been into a Roman Catholic family that eigrated to America when he was very young.As a mortal, Louis was a handsome man who ran indigo plantations very near New Orleans in 1791. His father was dead, and he cared for his younger brother, sister and mother. He was dedicated to all of his family, especially his brother Paul, who was deeply religious. Louis's life was good, his brother spent most of his time praying in the oratory Louis had built for him, and the plantations were running well.His brother Paul started seeing visions of the Virgin Mary and St. Dominic, telling him to sell the indigo plantations and move to France to work as a missionary. However, Louis didn't believe him and dismissed the thought. Louis Allowed his brother to worship and had encouraged him but refused to believe that he had real visions to by God.One day his brother and he discussed because of Paul's 'mission'. After the discussion, Paul left Louis and fell of the entrance's stairs. The slaves who saw him fall said that "He had lookws up as if he had just seen something in the air, then his entire bodu moved forward as if being swept by wind." one of them said that he looked as if was about to say something before he fell.Louis's mother and sister started believing that his brother Paul had falled because of the argument, then the other people started to believe the same since Louis refused to talk about Paul's visions to anyone, no even to the police. Louis started to blame himself too and could not forgive himself or get over his brother's death. "They all stared at me as if I'd killed him. Ans I felt I'd killed him." To escape from the constant reminder of his brother he moved to New Orleans, leaving the plantations in the hands of an overseer , but he was still haunted by Paul's death.Louis become a drunkard to try to escape reality. He put himself in constant danger by going to taverns, getting into fights and walking dangerous alleys alone, he wanted to die. One night he was attacked by Lestat outside his house, sucked Louis's blood, almost draining him. He was found hours later and taken inside. Louis presumed that he'd had a stroke because of the alcochol and refused to eat, drink or talk to the doctor. Louis mother called for a priest and Louis confessed for the first time about his brother's visions and what he had done.That night Lestat returned to Louis, he wanted Pointe du Lac, Louis's plantation. Lestat talked Louis through what he might become as a vampire, what he would become. Lestat wanted Louis as an eternal companion and as an eternal lover, having a powerful love for his beauty, his tenderness and his tragic heart. That mornaing Louis saw his last sunrise.-Life as a vampireLestat came to live at Louis's plantation with his father. Louis had trouble with coming to terms with taking lives, and this seemed to follow him for most of his life. Louis took a hand in helping the eldest sister of a man Lestat killed, and encouraged her to keep her plantation running. Lestat's father was dying soon and lestat convinced Louis to kill him. Louis did so in the most humane way, but only after her forced Lestat to speak to his dying father. The servants had been becoming very suspicious of Lestat and Louis. In the end, Lestat and Louis were forced to leave the plantation. They found shelter at the home of the woman who Louis helped before and she took them in and when she saw them the next night, she was convinced they were from the devil. This distressed Louis very much and he tried to convince her otherwise, but she ignored him and in the end he had to leave with Lestat.They went to New Orleans where Lestat resumed his merciless killings and Louis trid to avoid killing humans until one nioght where he attacked a little girl and left her for dead. Lestat told him that she wasn't dead yet and Lestat soon made the child into a vampire whom Lestat named Claudia. Claudia was there to keep the peace between Lestat and Louis for a long time and she learned from them both. That was until one dau when she decided she wanted to leave Lestat and look for other vampires like Louis and herself. Louis agreed that he would like to leave but deemed it impossible as Lestat would never let them go freely.The night came when Claudia decided to kill Lestat. After Claudia was convinced Lestat was dead, she forced Louis to help her dispose of the body. They started arranging their departure for Europe. One night, however, Louis saw Lestat's musician friend outside the window. Louis also noticed he was now a vampire and it was long until Lestat himself appeared. In fear for his own life and Claudia's, Louis managed to set the house on fire and escaped with Claudia to the ship to leave for Europe.Louis and Claudia travelled wherever there were rumours of vampiric behaviour, but they only found mindless vampires who seem to have no purpose or reason for living. Despite this, they continue their search and eventually they go to Paris. There Louis encounters the first "real" vampire of his kind, Santiago and soon after, Armand. He is invited (with Claudia) to the Theatre des Vampires.Claudia and Louis visited the Théâtre des Vampires where they were introduced properly to Armand who was the oldest (and only) vampire they met. Louis learned what he could from Armand and (under his influence) made a dollmaker human, Madeleine into a vampire as a mother for Claudia so he can leave her for Armand. Louis, Claudia and Madeleine were taken by the other vampires of the theater where they found Lestat who told them it was Claudia who tried to kill him. They then kill Claudia and Madeleine by leaving them in the sun while locking Louis away. When Louis found out what was done to Claudia, he became enraged and then after he warned Armand, they burned the theater down with every vampire in it.Louis left Paris with Armand, but Armand after a while left him in New Orleans after realising Louis isn't going to change. Louis also sees Lestat in New Orleans, but refuses to stay with him and only says that he forgives him. In 1975, Louis tells a reporter, Daniel Molloy, all of this story and then after learning that Daniel didn't learn anything from his story gets angry and leaves the reporter stunned and bleeding a little bit.  

ɪɴꜰᴇʀɴᴀʟ ꜱᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ

10/13/2021 09:23 PM 

The Monster

Name: Hiren Midoriya/Todoroki Name Kanji: 火 鎖Kanji Meaning: Fire, Chain/irons/connection Nick Name(s): None (Give her some) Age: Technically she’s only a few months old as she was grown in a test tube as a cloneAge look: Sixteen and up depending on story.Gender: FemaleSexual Orientation: Demisexual Occupation: Currently trying to transition from born villain to student Height: 5'5 Weight: 58 kgHair Color: Half Milano Red and Half Shadow Green Eye Color: Left is Viridian and Right is: Storm GreySkin Color: Cavern PinkNationality: Japanese School: Questionable Year: Uncertain Distinguishing feature: She’s already hard to miss in a crowd. HERO/VILLAIN PROFILE: Hero Name: Not sure yetVillain Name: Hiren (Previously, is now just her name) Quirk:  One For Flames Quirk Explanation: Hiren has One For All genetically speaking but has an affinity for anything that involves fire and heat. The one thing she’s mastered at combining both is Black Whip and Flame; it works now as a defence and an offence. Weapons: With how aggressive her quirk is she doesn’t need one, but keeps daggers hidden in her hero outfit. Gadgets/Tech: Tracking cat ears, don’t ask why don’t just DON’T WORRY ABOUT ITFamily: Hiren doesn’t technically have family but if we’re talking about blood relation I can give you this!Sibling(s): Shoto, Natsuo, Fuyumi, Touya Todoroki and Izuku Midoriya Parent(s): Enji and Rei Todoroki, Inko and Hisashi Midoriya.    Romantic Interest(s): This child can’t tell the difference between love and friendship so... yes???Allies: UA and the heroes hopefully. Rival(s): Yes? It’s just another strong bond she doesn’t understand. Enemy(s): Doctor Garaki (Who created her in the first place) She understands hate very well.  QUIRK: Name Of Quirk: One For Flames Description: An Unstable mix of pyromania and the ability to hold the world together. Strength: One of the strongest quirks to be knownWeakness: One of the most unstable quirks to be known, having only existed for months it will either destroy her and everyone or become stable and be a great success. Age Obtained: Born with missing the five year incubation period. How It Was Obtained: It spontaneously erupted from her during a crying fit when the punishment of no food was brought up if she did not complete her new objective. Attacks: = Carbon: A large attack that mostly leads to death as she can’t control it, but when upset she can remove the carbon from humans that she touches and blow it back into them in the form of diamond shards. = Carbon Bomb: When full of sorrow or emotions she can’t control her whole body shuts down and will take the carbon right from the air around her until it’s so compact inside her that it rips diamond shards from inside her. It’s almost guaranteed to kill her if she doesn’t get immediate medical help. =Red Flame Whip: This is her main attack a black whip covered in flames that extends out of her body in multiple different sections, it often looks like a flaming spider. PERSONALITY:Over all: Hiren hasn’t had time to discover who she is yet, let alone what her personality should be. Every emotion she experiences she experiences it at 100 or worse. Happiness, sadness, fear, anger, surprise, disgust or anything in between it’s similar to shaking a soda can and letting it explode. On the outside she’s mastered a calm atmosphere but if she experiences something new it’s as if a switch has gone off and she doesn’t know what to do. Which... she really doesn’t. A child's mind in a teens body slowly gaining all the knowledge it needs to open all the doors that seem to be locked in her face.   

cυтe'нυlнυ

10/13/2021 08:38 AM 

E n T h r a l l . [Latest Ver.]

    Sweetest credits goes to Aza-Vela for the lovelylittle poem at the end of this entry.Thank you so much, you sexy wordsmith. 💚E n T h r a l l       Death may perhaps be too easy a toll one must pay. With that notion mused well, It has no desire to simply exact it as punishment for... transgressions. It, a heavenly horror or a hellish sky-spawn hailing beyond the borders of the known cosmos.      It is a Visitor. Its privileges to challenge those within the higher domains of existence are woefully limited. Restrictions put indiscriminately by certain powerful laws of reality. They safeguard along with those at the highest of the Cosmic Pantheon who sanction and sustain them the indescribable expanse of life and death, order and chaos, matter and energy, concretes and concepts, space and time.      It understands the need for it, death. Not all is eternal. Far from it. Whether it is shorter than a single wing-beat of a hummingbird or as enduring as a star promenading its eons of effulgence until fading into the void surrounding it, the sensation and the breath of life differs from what and who. And in the final chapter, when the last stroke or spot of ink is penned on the book of life, it ends... and death waits to welcome the transition.      But to use it as a definitive sentence to express contempt, infinitesimal or colossal, is dull for the odd otherworldly and unnatural being. However, in a different fashion, the Visitor may have been privy to cheat the employment of death as an alternative of unconditional penance. Death can be kept at bay, should one account to nature being disgraced with callousness and a smile.      But enough about abstracts requiring divine wisdom to fathom. It, the Visitor, is moseying around in a forest that men dared to plunder. But to their grief, powers older than their ancestors reside, do take notice and go well at work to fend off... looters. Greedy minds and hands bearing fire and steel to amass resources and consume it like a locust horde on a verdant field, they have been. O, do they deserve not just a sermon but something more vindictive and more visceral that their bodies and minds can recall the severity of their own misdeeds until their days are spent. Men can trek the city ripe with fertile soil, healthy logs and wholesome beasts, yes. But to pluck the riches with no discipline may lead to the forest being their sudden grave.      Moonlight lends radiance on the quiet lake, leaving it to glimmer quite glamorously. The night sky is clear enough to see the civilization of fiery dots and spots; immeasurable in distance these countless twinkling tenants, the brilliance seen are the portraits of their past, equally immeasurable in age.      The Visitor is garbed in a thick battered black cloak from head to heel. Threads look frayed like the soiled skirt of a once prominent princess after her kingdom is torn and as her life is then plunged into that of a prized whore. The open hood may welcome the gaze of another with its abyss for a face. How can one meet another without a considerable façade or perhaps one made out of restless shadows? It is a sore for the mind, if not deemed well perhaps over a hot tea or a fine toke of the pipe.      The Visitor breaks forward stride to be at a wide rocky bank. The hall of trees is behind It. Soon, It stops as Its bony feet are kissing the shallows of the great cold canvas where fish and their gill-born ilk live in. There is no breeze to ruffle the surface, but Its journeying pair did make the surface ripple a bit.      There are many splendors this world offers, pondered on by the cloaked one. One of them is how the practice of the Mystic Arts for display, for wisdom and for gain. It has learned a few. The means to move things without holding them. Conjure unseen walls to deflect harm. Reconstitute and reshape soil, water and air into marvels that will leave jaws drop. Use them to delight, to deceit and to devastate.      But there is another Art. This one presents blasphemy to both life and sath. Necromancy, the designation of the enchanted art. It bodes ill for those with a sense of moral inclination, straight and steep or shallow and swerved. Even more so, what or who the art is bestowed upon.      On the same rocky bank, a few yards to Its left, there is a corpse lying on its side. A man who has spent the last hours in his life in pain. Signs of savage swordplay are on his arms and on his chest. What crows may have flown away, they pecked on his face and took an eye. What legion of maggots there are on the ground, they feast on his rancid remains, making a lair in his bowels. How fortuitous. A way to test Its sinister spellcraft.      It turns to face the carcass in bloodied clothing. The Visitor raises a hand. No flesh. The gray bones of the withered fingers creak as they become less and less crooked but desire none to be straight. The pointless reach is made to be directed at the lifeless loner. From Its blackness, deep, brooding and croaking, It hisses away a set of unsavory words, if they can even be considered words. Hag and hermit by the tens in callous choir and had smoked the pipe for decades, It proceeds in uttering to banish silence. The sinister song is an incantation. It has nary the intent to provide comprehension for men to drink with their ears, the lacerating language.      Ten seconds had passed since the ill speech began.      Moan. Groan. The wrinkled lips of the corpse move. His body jolts, head and limbs crackle. The Visitor takes a step forward. The outstretched hand guides the sorcery It is conjuring to bring about this morbid moment into reality, a repulsive one at that. The man slowly helps himself to sit down. Wounds that have helped nurse his miserable fate are ignored. The hundreds—perhaps thousands—of little flesh-eaters in him, their gluttonous banquet of him is too ignored. He soon rises to his feet, one missing a shoe while the other is still with him but it worn out enough to see those horrid wriggling toes. Groan. Moan.      No joy. No woe. No rage. No proper thought. Perhaps there is calm. A calm that feels unnatural. Whether the raggedy man with unsightly wounds and short unkempt hair has his consciousness or not, it does not matter. He is a puppet. A puppet with strings. The string is sorcery. The sorcery wielded by a puppeteer. The puppeteer, this Visitor. How ghastly... and gorgeous.      “Dark tidings,” It said with Its many hoarse voices in tandem, one that can belong to an unholy abomination that should not ever be privy to walk this earth for the good of many. Alas, It does and It does more than just mosey and mingle.      “Walk with me.”      The living corpse keeps groaning. The Visitor departs from the bank with Its companion in pursuit with stumbling legs. The bony fingers wave, each soon clenching into a fist while It puts the hand down to Its side. This deed allows the unseen string to have better control of Its... thrall. Yes. This man is now a thrall. A living toy. Living. How cruel a joke. This is no way to live. A slave to unholy sorcery, flesh and bones waiting to be commanded to do the bidding of another, even so by one that is perhaps awfully unkind.      Back into the forest they go, the wicked Visitor and Its ugly thrall. The night is young. Much can be done before dawn, whether it is to the comfort of anyone who crosses paths with them or not. The bastion of bark and beasts has nothing ill towards the Visitor, even with what blood-cooling sinister sensation It may bring. It actually is one of the old powers safeguarding these woods, perhaps other great halls of trees somewhere out there too.  Dearest Death, to hell with thee.Life shall stay, can thou not see?Renew a breath with remedy.Bittersweet... Necromancy.    

Roland Celestine

10/12/2021 11:13 PM 

Roland Celestine Information
Current mood:  artistic

Basic InformationFirst Name:  RolandFirst Name Meaning: Fame of the landLast Name: CelestineLast Name Meaning: HeavenlyBirthday: November 19Age: Looks 18 but olderOccupation: Spirit Detective (other casual like stories)Likes: His work and having funDislikes: Rude peopleBirth Location: Kansas City, MissouriCurrent Location: Beverly Hills, CaliforniaPhysical InformationSpecies: Human/Spectre (Other casual like stories)Appearence: HumanHeight: 6ft 3inWeight: 220lbsBody Type: MuscularEye Pupils Color: Light BrownVision: 20/20 Human form and unknown in Spectre formHair Length: Shoulder LengthHair Color: Burgundy (Dark Red)Hair Style: DreadlocksLeft Handed, Right Handed or Both: BothSmoker: YesDrinker: YesClothing Style: CasualShoe Size: 11Tattoo: NoScars: NoVoice: Firm-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Roland Celestine was born in a rough neighborhood through out his childhood and teenage years in the city of Kansas City, Missouri. Throughout his life, he was bouncing through foster homes because his birth parents aways stayed in jail. One day when he was 12 years old, Roland was sent to juvenile for beating a principal with an inch of his life for racially profiling him and attacking him unprovoked. Roland served the remaining of his middle school years in the juvenile system. He was released after he heard he was no longer in middle school. At the age of 14 years old, he was put back in the foster system. A family from Beverly Hills, California wanted to adopt him and show him a better life.After a few days on the road, Roland's foster parent's arrived to Kansas City, Missouri to pick him up. Roland figured that maybe he would have a decent life in a new state and city. He was willing to give them a chance so he decided to start a conversation with them while they leave Kansas City, Missouri to go to Beverly, Hills California. After a couple hours of arriving to Beverly Hills, California, Roland looked around at the places they drove by and thought that it was pretty cool. He also saw how people got along and thought it was a huge change from what he was used to.Arriving to his new home, he got out the car with his things and looked around. The neighborhood seem peaceful, but for some odd reason he was getting a bad feeling. Roland walked up to the front door and walked inside once they opened the front door. Looking around, he would be shown to his bedroom by his adoptive mother. Once in his bedroom, he looked around and places his things on the bed then put his things away. Later that evening after dinner, Roland went to his room and laid in his bed. Closing his eyes, he fell asleep and remained asleep. Suddenly, he felt something touching his body around midnight. Waking up, he began to look around and didn't see anything or anyone. Suddenly, he was possessed by a spectre as he didn't move or scream. He heard the spectre whisper to him to introduce itself and told Roland that he would be inherited powers to see other spirits and more.As years passed, Roland was enrolled into the local college. When he was in collage one day, he noticed a paranormal activity happening in the hallway on the ground floor. He saw students running for their lives then the spectre that inherited his body helped him see the spirit. Running to the location of the spirit, Roland saw it and tried to reason with it. The angry spirit became combative then Roland held uphis hands and felt chains leave his body to capture the spirit. The spectre inside him created a portal and Roland tossed the angry spirit withing the portal. The portal closed and that's when Roland figured he should go into business as a Spirit Detective.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Abilities*Spirit Vision - A special vision which allows the user to see where other spirits are located.*Spirit Detection - Allows the users to detect paranormal energy of spirits.*Spirit Chains - An ability which allows the user to summon metal chains that only the user and the spectre can see in order to capture spirits and different species.*Electromagnetic Shock - Allows the user to seen shocks of electricity through metal objects like chains, different types of metal, etc. It also can be sent through touch.*Portal Creation - Allows the user or Spectre to create a portal to send spirits or people inside for eternity or when they wish to set a person free.* = Inherited abilities

Mithrandir

10/12/2021 01:29 PM 

C l a s h . [Writing Entry.]

  O n w a r d   t o   f a c e   e v i l ! Stride on, lusty limbs! Soles are stomping the ground whilst on a smooth gallop—dirt left to spring alive! Wide leaps and great haste are made. Nerves twitch with strain. Lungs burn for breath to exchange the old with the new. Now is not the time to be a statue. Instead, be a comet on its way to a mighty impact! Frayed ends of a tattered grey cloak are at the mercy of the stinging winds brought upon by this spirited promenade.Pernicious purpose is not simply out of the unyielding need for slaughter. To ward off the wicked wave, even if it may later seem hopeless should it all goes quite ill, is a damn noble goal. So few bears the steel heart to brave this mass of malice, all armed to the teeth and ready to conquer a banquet of civilization behind the lone hasty voyager.In hand, the grip is tight upon the trusted sharpest prophet whose gospels are enunciated, extravagant, elegant, and epic in execution. Its girth gleams a bit even at the muddy malady of the heavens. The sun does at its best to shine through the miserable murky cloud-roaming canvas. Several long lean ribbons of hissing mist gather around the now luminous lacerating length; their choir song, only the coming of a twister can perhaps produce it.Yards become inches and—darkest tidings upon the wicked!Upon a pronounced pause of foot-flight, the ferocious fang danced in a wide vigorous sweep, right to left. F l a s h ! It brought with it the cruel crackling of thunder and divine fury disguised as a moment of blinding radiance and the air looking quite like a slender beam of glass so soon for eyes to catch as a hummingbird flapped its swings only a few times. The twelve nearest armored atrocities are knocked back and off their feet! Tossed like boulders to then fumbling away, they were! The ranks behind them and the ones after are left to unconditionally commit to a horrible pile-on. Evil eyes widened in shock from this surprise of inconvenience that would surely bring them searing pain and great disadvantage.Rage is but a few vices boiling within the man in grey whose latest act was quite the sight to see. The valiant fellow with a corpse-like visage, he was once decent-looking. But belay even the faintest consideration of vanity. Duty is alive and antagonistic upon who this lone swordsman is up against, so damn many of them ahead.But alone, oh heavens, no, he is not. Seconds after the sword concluded drawing first blood, allies with their own steel, stone, and skill follow as a long row of riveting ruthlessness. Dirt and scars on their faces, young and old, either barely bathed in battle before this momentous present or perhaps too many. They were behind him, brewing many musings not limited to just concern for the good folks who this terrible tide they must hold back from. They ache to sink their wrath upon the horde. Give them a thrashing of a lifetime that if some do survive this drastic debacle, a twitch of thought from this savage skirmish will make their nerves cuddle with the bitter bite of a sudden winter.Slash, slam, stab, even stray forth several arrows, the rest soon do! Crisp the thuds are of battering limbs, whether flesh or steel or stone. Give kindness no quarter! Snarls of the mad are met with bold roars of voices who can fathom and even wield reason. Iron and steel, even rock and bone-craft, all bring together a rich symphony in deathly duets and barbaric bands!Swords sing and scorn! Daggers dash, dive and dig! Warhammers wail and wallop! Halberds hurl and hack! Spears sweep and skewer! Arrows advance, airborne and agile! Shields shun short-tempered showmanships! Snatch a limb away from a blundering bulk of the next available cretinous foul-folk but the latter does rebut in terrible kind! Aim for where the armor is thin or none at all. Heads may roll, some already do! Give grief to what poor footing is brought the misfortune of being caught by each lifeless tumbling. Pluck out those pearls for peering ahead and around.The man in grey waltzes with his gospel-bringing friend against the island of sprightly evil around him and his comrades. Take heavy heed upon an ally in a moment of great bother, so close for their lovely eyes in being gouged by something ill and perhaps fatal. Swing up with some discipline! Release another glass-like wind to fly forth towards the foe who has the friend near the brink of being escorted away by the Reaper.S l a m ! Its helmet rings with a harsh thud. The assault was swiftly interrupted. Eyes swing left and right like a pair of little pendulum balls. Even cretins behind it got hurled away from leftover trauma of divine aggression. The friend is free and soon delivers a lethal stab to the neck with her sharp steel shorter than what the man in grey is carrying with him. Nod quickly a gratitude. Celebrations can wait. Duty must be satiated.Rage on, great battle. Rage far past birth. Fill these foul fields with fury, out of wrath or mirth. Each pernicious party must prove its worth. Clash proudly like two storms, predators and protectors of the earth!       

Mithrandir

10/12/2021 01:27 PM 

A Chat. [Writing Entry.]

       Towering before a grey-garbed gent is a sentient majesty. Twicefold the tallest peak of this world that mirrors the palette and spirit of Earth, it stands. The transition of atmospheres with all its body-grinding trauma does nothing to it. If need be, this colossus that can leave jaws dropped will repurpose the air to what it can and wants, as long as the deed is bound by cosmic law to be achieved.     Its aura can burrow into the senses of not just what and who sees it but also within no less than fifty miles from where it stands. It may rattle their nerves even if just the slightest persistent unease. The man in grey, despite his stoicism, also falls prey to the invasive ether that waltzes in his very cells. Such power. Many times, he still cannot get used to it. To be in the presence of a god.     Kiss the rocky cliff with a knee, humble onlooker of horrid hide. Such a ghastly visage belongs in some crypt, not for a hearty promenade across the known world; those wrinkles from forehead to sole are tragedies and regrets carved on such pitiful a being who used to be fair, handsome, a desire for sight.     No, vanity be damned. This man has no need for the allure he once had. This decrepit shell, stalwart as he remains to be, is a reminder that even with all of his efforts stretching lifetimes, he could not save the one true soul who he would give all the stars in the cosmos to spend bringing back. Even wage war with men, gods and Beyond alike. That may have been an actuality. A damn regretful one of cosmic proportions.     Enough tangents of thought. Give reverence to a visitor from domains never meant for mortal sight, let alone a foot to step onto, to gander upon. Gleaming red and green, the bulk of its armor of a skin. Rivers of sunset adorn the middle of its large limbs, its titanic torso, perhaps flowing energy of celestial vigor. Its four pairs of stars for sight are lifeless, but it conceals an acuity that governments would kill to seize as it can achieve global surveillance that their little machines can only do a laughable fraction of.     “Grey,” rattled with thunder this monolith with its mountainous feet dipped into the raging sea. But it is calm in disposition, only this realm can make it sound quite volcanic when even a whisper is parted.     “Dear friend to this Celestial. No need for this lowly stature to pay respects.”     Such kindness. The man, Grey, is heart-warmed that he is slighted, not in some sort of trouble. His heroism does entertain a commitment to sin from time to time.     “Rise, man reborn.”     Grey complies, slowly and aloft a strained knee and leg, his shoulders relaxed. Meadows quite dim are skyward to face the transcendent visitor miles before him in this great vivid swathe of a grand lush marble beneath sunlight and cirrus clouds.     “It has been some time, friend,” his gentlemanly bravado failed to challenge the roar of the waves and even the grinding aria of the cosmic for simply being there, making the air quake.     “To what do I owe this honor?” Grey followed his acknowledgement.     Silence for ten seconds.     “Forces are at work, my friend. Small and large, earthbound and ethereal. Dearest Grey of the Old Domains, there are those who desire to rekindle the flames of elder wars you and many brave others fought so valiantly to bring a thorough end to. Even yielding to such unimaginable cost.”     Silence for another ten seconds. Prasiolites peering up are doing their very best not to tremble and exclaim in frustration as he drunk this ill brew of an ill news. ‘Damn’ is fitting a word to vehemently bellow in the wailing silence of one’s mind.     “We need your aid to find them, dear friend. Convince them otherwise. Make them do something better of their time. Reshape their tomorrow into something fairer. Not proceed with the atrocious ambition. If not, their lives will be forfeit by the hands of others with cosmic competence... if not by yours.”     How bothersome. Not the task, but this revelation. Clench slowly, left fist of this man in tattered cloth of pale ash. The visitor is sincere, as it almost always is, only to jest every once per millennium.     A rebuttal so clear and concise is a must.     Produce a nod.     “...Aye.”     Waves keep on singing and dancing, some kissing the long strips of shores and tall walls rocks. Winged sailors go about their journeys in the high winds but with odd swerves every now and then from being near the astral entity even if tens of miles away. The salt of the wild blue fields can be indulged through the nose or the tongue.     The day is fair in this slice of the world. Truly so. But in other corners of this empyrean garden of galaxies and void, trouble is brewing. And if reason cannot win, Grey too must give the terrible tidings of trouble himself upon them.     Make known into clear sight as a spiraling black cloud on his back. His ally of twin edges becomes true for hold, snuggled onto him. A prophet of war, capable of unleashing gospels nothing short of heavenly and horrifying with a single swing or stab, if the occasion calls for it.     Huff a mild scoff and perhaps a smirk behind his cloth-mask.     “Show me the way.”       

【Null】

10/11/2021 11:17 PM 

❛❛Azra Schmitz❜❜

❛❛Azra Schmitz❜❜ Azra has never been a bad kid. Of course, she had some anger issues and got into fights here and there, but she was never the one to start them. She was raised by two loving grandparents, as her mother nor father wanted her. She was born in Germany, where she spent most of her childhood growing up. Unfortunately, her grandparents passed away due to natural causes by the time she was 14, and because she was still a minor, she was sent to live with her parents in America.Azra's parents weren't too fond at the thought of her coming to live with them, as they had already moved on with their life. They always spoke English, a language Azra never learned nor understood when she first entered America. She discovered that she had 3 siblings, all of which she never got along with.Azra started to develop a deep hatred for the country, not understanding why everyone called it so great. It seemed to her that if you weren't born and raised in America, you weren't welcomed.When Azra turned 18, she stole her parent's credit cards and anything valuable that she could sell. She was determined to get out from underneath her parents, and she figured she could live from hotel room to hotel room while she looked for a job. However, this was quite hard as she didn't speak proper English.Azra is now almost 20-years-old and has a part-time job working as an assistant, and knows English very well. Even though she still has her accent, people can now understand what she is saying. She now lives in a house with a few roommates, as well as her cat.

squidge (๑>ω•́ )

10/11/2021 02:10 PM 

sonya !!

                       。゚゚・。・゚゚。                       ゚。        . ゚                        ゚・。・゚ ˖*ೃ . ⋆                         ┈────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-ㅤ                       ┈─➤   ༘♡ ·˚꒰ BASICS.name : sonya eileen age : 18 and upgender : female height : 5 ft 2weight : 145body build : petite and slim species / race : human with modified abilities ethnicity : swedish skin tone : peach ish with pink undertones eye color : gold - blue hair color / length : ash blonde , reaches a little lower than her mid back and is usually kept in low pig tails piercings : tongue tats : none birth marks / scars : scar on her chest up above her breasts .˚ !┊͙ PERSONAL OVERVIEW. ❞ ˏ`୭̥┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄     ✧ ˚  ·       .┊          ┊༘♡ ⋆。˚    ꕥpersonality : within the first few seconds of meeting her she's quiet , polite , showing nothing but a bright and bubbly smile on her face and not speaking unless spoken to . she was raised that way , to simply just listen and do what was needed - don't give her opinion unless asked . sonya on her own can be a little childish but is quick to wipe it off if she needs to get down to business and not fool around . the only off thing about her is that sonya doesn't seem to be able to fully grasp at human emotions or actual friendliness , hugs and general affection or foreign to her and when others get sad around her she simply forces an awkward smile and attempts to ignore it . she lacks empathy and most things people seem to have other than the ability to be respectful .hobbies : " training " , as to what that entails she never fully explains it . likes : weapons , though she grew up around them and its all she's ever really had .. she does like bunnies though , a lot . dislikes : clutter , mess , being grabbed at unexpectedly habits : not able to fully pick up jokes or understand tones like sarcasm .occupation : assassin family relations : she was taken away from her mother at a young age to which she hardly remembers anything . has no recollection of siblings or anything else .︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.DISORDERS┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄     ✧ ˚  ·       .┊          ┊༘♡ ⋆。˚    ꕥfears : n/aillness(s) : n/a weakness / soft spots : motherly or fatherly characters , those who take actual care of her and show her genuine kindness make her feel overt protective of them .BACKGROUND. . . ┊͙✧˖*°࿐⋯ ♡ᵎthe most sonya remembers from her childhood was how her mother use to hold her and brush her hair , or simply cradle her and whisper on about her day or other things - and then she remembers being taken away , literally ripped from her mothers arms and never to see her again . from her time at " the room " ( as she calls it ) she had been experimented on more than once . from tests of strength to needles shoved in her arms and injected with liquids she could hardly remember . it got even worse when they found out she had a heart condition . sonya doesnt fully know all of what went down besides that she had a surgery on her chest , was injected with tons of more needles and pushed to her limits - until all of a sudden at the age of 14 she could lift a grown man by herself , her senses were sharper and her blood was thicker , it didn't come out as much and she hardly bled ( which the " doctors " used to their advantage , putting her in more " tests " that would cause horrible bleeding just to see if she could handle it . ) from then on sonya was then put on numerous missions , from taking out some boss and his gang to capturing people and interrogating them until given what she was wanted to have . for someone so small and innocent looking sonya is able to take down at least 5-6 men on her own with just her smarts and strength and then possibly 8-10 with that and a gun , aka her favorite weapon . 

squidge (๑>ω•́ )

10/11/2021 01:40 PM 

naomi

                       。゚゚・。・゚゚。                       ゚。        . ゚                        ゚・。・゚ ˖*ೃ . ⋆                         ┈────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-ㅤ                       ┈─➤   ༘♡ ·˚꒰ BASICS.name : naomi neneage : 18 and up gender : female height : 4'11body build : petite , short and small !species / race : wolf ethnicity : asian mix skin tone : lighteye color : pink ish hair color / length : long , down to her hips and usually kept in two low and fluffy pig tails piercings : nonetats : nonebirth marks / scars : birth mark on her left thigh , just a large freckle looking thing !.˚ !┊͙ PERSONAL OVERVIEW. ❞ ˏ`୭̥┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄     ✧ ˚  ·       .┊          ┊༘♡ ⋆。˚    ꕥpersonality : a crybaby in sum . naomi gets flustered and easily upset with very few things , however apart from that the tiny wolf is also extremely energetic and social . she likes to be around people and make mew friends , talking strangers ears off if they even so much as glance at her . she also tends to get a tad clingy to those she enjoys more - acting like a lost puppy the second she takes more of a liking to whomever . hobbies : being outside , wandering aimlessly likes : head pats , having her hair brushed , running around , being outside , swimming , having company , candy dislikes : being alone for too long , getting lost ( which she does a lot .. ) , being called a baby or being made fun of for her sensitivity habits : a handful of dog like ones of course , from barking at the door to flopping on to her back for a simple pat on her stomach !occupation : none / kind of lives off her sister lolfamily relations : all family is alive though she went off on her own and choses to be like so ( or so she claims while her sister gives her just about everything )︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.EXTRA .┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄     ✧ ˚  ·       .┊          ┊༘♡ ⋆。˚    ꕥfears : pitch black darkness , small spaces , snakes , blood , illness(s) : none weakness / soft spots : if you grab at her tail closer to the base she gets all stiff , its just kind of an uncomfortable feeling for her - sometimes it can be calming as long as she's aware of your intentions / trusts

squidge (๑>ω•́ )

10/11/2021 01:38 PM 

rules (*´˘`*)♡

hi hi ! so if you actually decided to read this , then welcome ! im squidge ! these are rules , if that wasnt already clear . please make sure to pay attention to these before you continue talking to me !thank you .  RULESུ✧ ͙༣꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦⊹⠀⠀⠀ܴ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀˖⠀⠀⠀⠀ ̥ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀̻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀˖⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀˖⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀◌ 1• don't be an ass - it's not hard to be polite when i'm not doing anything to provoke you , if i have please tell me . 2• don't come to me in character .3• do not add me just have me on your list ! if you don't speak to me within the day or so after you add me i will probably remove you.4• don't bother to contact me if you're looking for nothing but a roleplay to get you off . ero is fine and i don't mind ero themes but 24/7 bangin' is not my cup of tea.5• be at LEAST para to multi para . i'm more interested in roleplays that have more length , i'm typically novella . 6• no first person / anything besides third person . 7• grammar errors are perfectly okay as well as mess ups if english isn't your first language . just no constant text talk or extreme mistakes . i don't mind text talk before roleplaying since i myself type in lower case ( which does not affect my roleplaying ability — ) .8• help out with a roleplay if we are to come up with something together . i don't always have a plot or idea in mind . dont just constantly nod your head and think that will get you somewhere ,,9• i am NOT DOM . under no circumstances am i or will i ever be , not switch either , it makes me uncomfortable and please take that in to mind before wanting to do something ns*w10• i don't play anyone canon , oc's only . i don't care if you prefer to play canon but im not good at it .11• do not force my character to act .─12• i am okay with fxf, fxm, and fxnb but i personally play a female character , so don't ask me to be a male . n o t e s ; •once again i do not play canon characters - i'm just not great at it .ଘ ੈ☻‧₊˚•im sorry if i ramble or seem rushed , im usually anxious no matter what time of day and people intimidate the hell out of me lOL      ଘ ੈ☻‧₊˚•i actually am perfectly fine with dark themes and themes aiming towards ero , so long as it's interesting and once more not just something to get you off .  ଘ ੈ☻‧₊˚•i give about a week for you to respond unless you are just ignoring me - i will of course send about a message or two but if both are ignored while you are active / have been active i will un add you . ଘ ੈ☻‧₊˚•all my characters are pansexual ! meaning if you are homophobic of anything along those linesplease do not bother to talk to me .

𝔹𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝔼𝕪𝕖𝕤

10/11/2021 01:27 PM 

Guide lines

Please consider the following when interacting with me...• I do not always have access to a computer, I am mobile most of the time. Please be patient with replies. • Crossovers, OC's, doubles/mirror's and MCRP's are welcome (I will not pick your character for you though). • Mature content is expected - have you seen this anime/read this manga?  Blood/gore/violence etc. •  On that note; I will not engage in anything NSFW if you are a minor. • Mun is over 21 ; Muse is 20 unless it is discussed otherwise.  • Mun and muse are both friendly (mostly xD) •  I will write para and up (multi, sometimes novella but I have ADHD and find it hard to focus on posts that have too much purple prose)•  To reiterate: respect, patience and communication are necessary. 

Rules, guidelines, FYI

Ω L O Y A L T Y Ω

10/11/2021 01:03 PM 

⚠RULES AND INFO⚠

So, I hate to do this but I don't wanna have to explain to everyone over and over and without them things get unhinged very quickly. My rules are fairly simple,  and I'm fairly easy going. However, you get two warning tops.- Don't rush me for replies. This is a hobby. Something I do to relieve stress and relax. If you come out of left field and demand a reply, you WILL be ignored and you'll have to wait even longer. Beyond that, I'm on mobile so I take a moment to type, and I have a very taxing job. So please bear with me, please.- I don't play favorites. I answer my messages in the order they are received from oldest to newest. Now keep in mind, I have 50 people already, so please don't hold your breath if I don't get back to you right away.-I separate real life from RP. I don't give out info, I'm not here for dating or friends or anything. If it happens it happens but it's unlikely. Also, I don't give out my discord. I only have my personal one and that one is for non RP use.-I will not play another character for you. I'm sorry, but I won't. I'm sure there are people who will do that kind of thing but I'm not one of them.- Im going to be fairly strict about being In character most of the time, but if there's something you absolutely must bring up OOC, then please do it in comments. Other then that I prefer messages for replies.- This is an Alternate Universe of the code vein story as to not spoil anything for anyone wanting to play the game. So no worries, most of my details are more my own personal creation rather then game story. That said I did use elements from the story to tie it together. -Smut is allowed within reason. Story will ALWAYS come first. I know Io looks risque and y'all are a bunch of pervs but give me story, and you'll get your lewd. - I'm fairly open to most things, I try to give everyone a fair chance,  and I believe in second chances. however if things go sideways and I delete you or viceversa, don't re-add. There's probably a reason you or I was deleted. These are all the rules I have ATM. if I think of anything else then I'll be sure to add it. To those who read this stuff, thank you from the bottom of my heart. And for those who don't.. Well... I'll direct you here one way or another.

squidge (๑>ω•́ )

10/11/2021 01:13 PM 

mickayla ( micky )

                       。゚゚・。・゚゚。                       ゚。        . ゚                         ゚・。・゚ ˖*ೃ . ⋆                         ┈────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-ㅤ                       ┈─➤   ༘♡ ·˚꒰ BASICS.name : mickayla wensworth ( mick / micky )age : 18 and upgender : female height : 5'5body build : small and slim , sort of lanky species / race : supernatural human ethnicity : ---skin tone : a bit on the pale side with pink undertones eye color : bright yellow hair color / length : pink , some spots more faded to be lighter , almost a paler pink .piercings : ears , 4 of them on each side . tats : nonebirth marks / scars : burn scars along her fingers ..˚ !┊͙ PERSONAL OVERVIEW. ❞ ˏ`୭̥┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄     ✧ ˚  ·       .┊          ┊༘♡ ⋆。˚    ꕥpersonality : sweet , quiet , and a little off putting at first is how most people first describe mickayla . while she is small and petite looking her abilities are rather chaotic and often react more on her emotions , even if she keeps a completely blank face . she's not mean whatsoever , in fact she's the type of girl to apologize if she's in your way or help a stranger pick up dropped items . she really is a good person but even so mick is emotionally confused , she gets frustrated a little too easily and upset just as quick despite keeping her expression monotone . you can tell of she's overwhelmed emotionally if whatever she's around starts burning ( explain more later ) . mick is also pretty quiet , only offering a half smile every so often . hobbies : not a full on hobby but she likes going on walks a awful lot ad it helps clear her head . likes : sweets , cold sweets , purely chocolate ice cream ( chocolate chips , drizzle , ice cream - waffle cone , full chocolate . ) , kit kats , pink lemonade and stuffed animals , primarily her shark plushie named " henry " . dislikes : people yelling at her , being talked down to , being called a freak or a "mute" , loudness , being crowded habits : when she gets overwhelmed her body begins to burn through things , sometimes resulting in fires . if she's sitting down in a chair and someone pisses her off she slowly begins to get warmer and warmer until she either melts through it ( if its plastic ) or it burns in to ashes . occupation : n/afamily relations : all family is reportedly deceased . ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.EXTRA .┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄     ✧ ˚  ·       .┊          ┊༘♡ ⋆。˚    ꕥfears : hurting people , being alone illness(s) : alexithymia weakness / soft spots : people she cares for are a huge soft spot to her . ABILITIES. ┊͙✧˖*°࿐⋯ ♡ᵎknown as " SEARING " ; in which she can trigger her whole body to become unbearably hot and inflect harsh burns upon those needed ; does not harm her and it takes awhile for her to get really hot . 

Ω L O Y A L T Y Ω

10/11/2021 12:27 PM 

Character description and details

APPEARANCE   Io, despite being made by Ishtar, bears no resemblance to the late god, instead Ishtar chose the form it did to honor the mother of one of the nine precursors who valiantly sacrificed her life to save her son from certain doom. Despite being only 165 cm tall, (5'4) Io's large breasts, slim waist and full hips make for a pointedly hourglass figure, with her cream-colored skin and lightly tousled hair tying off the similarities between her and the mother. From there, Io's own physicality diverges considerably, her hair taking on an almost ethereal, moonlit, silver hue. In addition to her curvaceous form and silver hair, Io's bright, wide-eyed amber gaze is one of her most recognizable features. While she shares this same doe-eyed look with the mother she was made to mirror, Io's eyes stand out not only for their color, but the slightly weary, yet knowing look they often carry. As an Attendant of a Successor, Io's uniform consist of a normally shimmering, backless white gown, drawn snug over her figure and sporting a partially ripped, plunging neckline. Highlighting her outfit are the various accessories and trinkets adorning her figure. On her pointer and middle finger are clasped two webbed, silver claws, while around her left forearm, she ties four white bracelets, each strung through a set of gold beads, with a much larger string of similar adornment resting gracefully on her hips. She also wears a necklace of the same style, a deep gold, teardrop shaped gem strung around a white lace and hanging just above her breastline. Completing her uniform are a set of intricately designed embroideries, the floral white pattern splayed over her left bicep and woven elegantly into her undergarments before finally breaking off and pattering itself around her right thigh.   While on the move, Io wears a custom Ivy-type Veil styled in a shape of a short, black and violet, hooded cloak adorned with various golden laces, jewels and protrusions. In addition to her veil, Io is able to summon an imposing polearm named Dammerung, this weapon is one of ishtars personal choices, the weapon the god used to destroy not only itself, but the rest of the gods as well. And as such is as devasting and powerful as a godlike weapon can be. Fitting for the protection of the successors. The weapon and uniform are all standard issue among the Attendants. Unlike her fellow Attendants, however, Io's gown is not as pristine, having lost most of its luster with the dust and dirt staining the front of her skirt portaying the struggles and hardships shes going through simply to find her Successor. In theme, Io wears around her right forearm a set of white claps, fastened in place by golden studs and a bandage that she keeps wrapped around her left leg, both relics of long since healed injuries, possibly still worn as a sign of penance for having lost her charge.  PERSONALITY   Io is a rather divergent identity when compared to her inspiration. As a result of losing her successor, which is considered failure among the attendants, her persona strays even further as she constantly searches for her own identity, her disposition betraying an apparent unassuming innocence alongside a stoic dedication to the vague sense of purpose in her heart. This would lead her to find her charge. Forging on through injury, selflessly searching the earth alone just to find and keep her successor safe.   While appearing very meek, reserved and generally introverted around most people, Io brazenly comes to the fore when matters involving her successor or their safety come to from. Able to take charge with an uncanny cool in the most chaotic and unprecedented of situations, even willing to step in to save the life of her successor even if it means injury. She will guide them through critical tipping points throughout their journey through life, teaching her successor about their powers and how to use them.   Despite the almost unaffected cool with which she carries out her duty and her innocently aloof countenance, Io's kind and caring, yet unsure and fragile nature are palpable in the incredibly tender and silently intimate relationship she and her successor share with one another. When alone with them, Io tends to speak on end for much longer than usual, sadness, relief or anxiety apparent on her face as she freely and vulnerably lays out her heart, revealing her many insecurities, concerns and desires to her successor, and in turn, comforting them in their most trying of times, allowing them to lean on her whether emotionally or physically, with tender caresses or steady words of encouragement.




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