Posts by WolfLover458

[fancypost borderwidth=0pt; font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; width: 350px; color: black]Ah! Thank you!! Cool, so first off, do you happen to have any already-created plot ideas? Or should we come up with one together?

[fancypost borderwidth=0pt; font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; width: 350px; color: black]Alright. Hm. Would you be okay with a romance roleplay perhaps? If so, what are some of your ships?
Also, do you ship any bxb? Eheh. ^^;

[fancypost borderwidth=0pt; font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; width: 350px; color: black]Oh? Okay. Well, I'd particularly like to try roleplaying as Firo, if that's alright with you. I also kind of sort of ship him with Claire (Vino) don't judge me. If that doesn't interest you though, is there any other character you'd fancy roleplaying?

[fancypost borderwidth=0pt; font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; width: 350px; color: black]Alright, cool. Would that be alright? We could trade after a while if you just can't stand it anymore, because I'd be fine with attempting Claire at some point as well.

[fancypost borderwidth=0pt; font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; width: 350px; color: black]Let's try to at least come up with a vague idea of what we plan to do. Give me a moment to think; Do you have any ideas? I'll also start working on the thread soon.

[fancypost borderwidth=0pt; font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; width: 350px; color: black]Sorry, just going to bump this so other people can see.

[fancypost borderwidth=0pt; font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; width: 350px; color: black]
Tracking, maybe?

[fancypost borderwidth=0pt; font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; width: 350px; color: black]

I don't know how long I've been here, but I don't really care.
There's a dark point that everyone eventually reaches where you want nothing more than to tear yourself apart limb from limb and drown in the despair that you've create for yourself.
Then afterwards, you're just empty. You don't feel anything anymore.
That happened to me a long time ago, but I still get reverberations every now and again.
It doesn't matter though, I've accepted it.
That is just what happens here, Father says to give it time.
He also says that I should continue doing my job. So I do.
I bring others here. I bring them here so they can eventually reach the same state that I am in.
It's for the good of mankind, that's what Father says.
Father does things to us for the good of mankind.
So it's okay.
I don't know if any of the others believe this, but the Caretakers will make them.
The Caretakers love Father. They'll do whatever he says, and he rewards them for it.
So their revisions are continuously edited.
They're always becoming stronger,
more changed,
less human.
But it's for the good of mankind, so it's okay.
I don't love Father, but he loves me.
Father loves everybody.
I'm not strong though.
I don’t take part in The Undertakings.
I can't even get food on my own.
I don't feel anything though.
Not even these bandages.
I don’t feel when I do something wrong and the Caretakers punish me,
I don't feel when I hear one of the others screaming in sorrow,
I don't feel when I kill someone's old father or mother and drag another wailing child back into the darkness I've grown accustomed to.
Father has to edit them for the good of mankind.
So it's okay.
The Factory will be their home now.

In the late 18th and early 19th centuries in England, there is an old Factory set upon a hill in the rural moor of the countryside. To outsiders, it is assumed to be abandoned, with run-down walls and a caving roof, but nobody can ever explain why its cogs still seem to be running.
It is a very large building that appears to be both a Factory as well as a mansion. There are living quarters for workers, courtyards in the center, a greenhouse, and numerous amount of rooms in-between.
What most people don't know about this Factory, however, is that inside its dark corridors live hundreds upon hundreds of children of all ages, ruled over by a nameless man whom they call Father. This man experiments on the children using his brilliant mind turned-mad by the desire of creating the Perfect Human. No child exists here without some kind of physical or mental deform, whether that be added mechanical parts, animal limbs, behavioral oddities, or just some kind of misshapen feature in general. Father has also already succeeded in finding a formula to prevent aging, as well as an effective method of causing amnesia, and he so generously performs both on each child so they will never grow or mature, nor remember anything of their past lives.
They all have fallen victim to Father’s insanity, although some are more loyal to him than others. Those who can say that they truly love Father and his cause have come to be called the Caretakers. While most others have jobs that keep the factory running, these children are a more elite group.
Despite all the suffering he has evoked upon them, the Caretakers will do whatever Father asks, which usually leads to them carrying out his dirty work within the Factory. This includes taking other children in for procedure or disposing of the troublemakers who refuse to submit.
In turn, he rewards them by updating the revisions he has already made to their bodies in such a way that makes it easier for the Caretakers to take part in combat.
This combat may be because of many different reasons, the main one being their job of keeping the other children in line.
It also might be because of Feeding Time, for the more capable you are, the easier it is to dominate while trying to reach the food first. All children who are willing swarm the troughs in hopes of grabbing a couple of morsels and escaping the room before the fights break out. Only the most tenacious are those who get the most rations.
There is also the scouting of the Ferrets—a separate, select group of children who are sent out to collect others to bring back to the Factory. This is a dangerous task, because they’re aren’t always orphans loose on the streets waiting be snatched. More often than not, the new children must be taken from their homes, and parents usually try to prevent this from happening. Though it most likely ends with them being viciously torn apart by those who should no longer be considered human.
Finally, there are the Undertakings. This is the only chance children besides the Caretakers get in order have their revisions updated. It is a savage tournament that can be participated in if one so desires, where two children are set against one another and the first person to demobilize the other wins the opportunity of being edited.
It usually ends with the slaughter of many.
This is the life that these children lead, and it is all that they will ever know. They are the dogs tied to the leash of their Father. Sanity continues to spiral downward for them all.

-If you're interested in joining, feel free to create your own form and include anything you'd like about your character, just be sure to have the basics such as appearance, personality, revisions, job etc. and make it as detailed as possible. This is an advanced roleplay, after all.
-A bio, however, is not needed in the form due to most children having amnesia. Though if you'd like to add one, go right ahead.
-I'd suggest only having one character so you can focus all of your attention on their actions, but up to two are allowed.
-Please, no powerplaying, godmodding, or any kind of disrespect towards anyone in general. There will be violence in this, be warned, but all killing must first be approved of by the opposing person.
-All posts must be as advanced as possible, so please try making each at least a couple paragraphs long, though I understand low muse.
-The kids here can be anywhere from 5-17.
-There are also no need for last names.
-Romance is allowed, by all means, but no sexual activities, please.
-All types of romance are allowed as well, this includes bxg, bxb, gxg, or any other genders in general.
-All suggestions for advancements in the plot are welcome! If you have any ideas, PM me.
-Any questions? Let me know!
-I will also be roleplaying the part of Father if the need ever arises.
-More rules will be added if necessary.
-Thank you for reading!

[fancypost borderwidth=0pt; font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; width: 350px; color: black]

I don't know how long I've been here, but I don't really care.
There's a dark point that everyone eventually reaches where you want nothing more than to tear yourself apart limb from limb and drown in the despair that you've create for yourself.
Then afterwards, you're just empty. You don't feel anything anymore.
That happened to me a long time ago, but I still get reverberations every now and again.
It doesn't matter though, I've accepted it.
That is just what happens here, Father says to give it time.
He also says that I should continue doing my job. So I do.
I bring others here. I bring them here so they can eventually reach the same state that I am in.
It's for the good of mankind, that's what Father says.
Father does things to us for the good of mankind.
So it's okay.
I don't know if any of the others believe this, but the Caretakers will make them.
The Caretakers love Father. They'll do whatever he says, and he rewards them for it.
So their revisions are continuously edited.
They're always becoming stronger,
more changed,
less human.
But it's for the good of mankind, so it's okay.
I don't love Father, but he loves me.
Father loves everybody.
I'm not strong though.
I don’t take part in The Undertakings.
I can't even get food on my own.
I don't feel anything though.
Not even these bandages.
I don’t feel when I do something wrong and the Caretakers punish me,
I don't feel when I hear one of the others screaming in sorrow,
I don't feel when I kill someone's old father or mother and drag another wailing child back into the darkness I've grown accustomed to.
Father has to edit them for the good of mankind.
So it's okay.
The Factory will be their home now.

In the late 18th and early 19th centuries in England, there is an old Factory set upon a hill in the rural moor of the countryside. To outsiders, it is assumed to be abandoned, with run-down walls and a caving roof, but nobody can ever explain why its cogs still seem to be running.
It is a very large building that appears to be both a Factory as well as a mansion. There are living quarters for workers, courtyards in the center, a greenhouse, and numerous amount of rooms in-between.
What most people don't know about this Factory, however, is that inside its dark corridors live hundreds upon hundreds of children of all ages, ruled over by a nameless man whom they call Father. This man experiments on the children using his brilliant mind turned-mad by the desire of creating the Perfect Human. No child exists here without some kind of physical or mental deform, whether that be added mechanical parts, animal limbs, behavioral oddities, or just some kind of misshapen feature in general. Father has also already succeeded in finding a formula to prevent aging, as well as an effective method of causing amnesia, and he so generously performs both on each child so they will never grow or mature, nor remember anything of their past lives.
They all have fallen victim to Father’s insanity, although some are more loyal to him than others. Those who can say that they truly love Father and his cause have come to be called the Caretakers. While most others have jobs that keep the factory running, these children are a more elite group.
Despite all the suffering he has evoked upon them, the Caretakers will do whatever Father asks, which usually leads to them carrying out his dirty work within the Factory. This includes taking other children in for procedure or disposing of the troublemakers who refuse to submit.
In turn, he rewards them by updating the revisions he has already made to their bodies in such a way that makes it easier for the Caretakers to take part in combat.
This combat may be because of many different reasons, the main one being their job of keeping the other children in line.
It also might be because of Feeding Time, for the more capable you are, the easier it is to dominate while trying to reach the food first. All children who are willing swarm the troughs in hopes of grabbing a couple of morsels and escaping the room before the fights break out. Only the most tenacious are those who get the most rations.
There is also the scouting of the Ferrets—a separate, select group of children who are sent out to collect others to bring back to the Factory. This is a dangerous task, because they’re aren’t always orphans loose on the streets waiting be snatched. More often than not, the new children must be taken from their homes, and parents usually try to prevent this from happening. Though it most likely ends with them being viciously torn apart by those who should no longer be considered human.
Finally, there are the Undertakings. This is the only chance children besides the Caretakers get in order have their revisions edited. It is a savage tournament that can be participated in if one so desires, where two children are set against one another and the first person to demobilize the other wins the opportunity of being edited.
It usually ends with the slaughter of many.
This is the life that these children lead, and it is all that they will ever know. They are the dogs tied to the leash of their Father. Sanity continues to spiral downward for them all.

If you're interested, here's the link to the thread~
http://feralfront.com/index.php?topic=2305192

Thank you!

[fancypost borderwidth=0pt; font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; width: 350px; color: black]

I don't know how long I've been here, but I don't really care.
There's a dark point that everyone eventually reaches where you want nothing more than to tear yourself apart limb from limb and drown in the despair that you've create for yourself.
Then afterwards, you're just empty. You don't feel anything anymore.
That happened to me a long time ago, but I still get reverberations every now and again.
It doesn't matter though, I've accepted it.
That is just what happens here, Father says to give it time.
He also says that I should continue doing my job. So I do.
I bring others here. I bring them here so they can eventually reach the same state that I am in.
It's for the good of mankind, that's what Father says.
Father does things to us for the good of mankind.
So it's okay.
I don't know if any of the others believe this, but the Caretakers will make them.
The Caretakers love Father. They'll do whatever he says, and he rewards them for it.
So their revisions are continuously edited.
They're always becoming stronger,
more changed,
less human.
But it's for the good of mankind, so it's okay.
I don't love Father, but he loves me.
Father loves everybody.
I'm not strong though.
I don’t take part in The Undertakings.
I can't even get food on my own.
I don't feel anything though.
Not even these bandages.
I don’t feel when I do something wrong and the Caretakers punish me,
I don't feel when I hear one of the others screaming in sorrow,
I don't feel when I kill someone's old father or mother and drag another wailing child back into the darkness I've grown accustomed to.
Father has to edit them for the good of mankind.
So it's okay.
The Factory will be their home now.

In the late 18th and early 19th centuries in England, there is an old Factory set upon a hill in the rural moor of the countryside. To outsiders, it is assumed to be abandoned, with run-down walls and a caving roof, but nobody can ever explain why its cogs still seem to be running.
It is a very large building that appears to be both a Factory as well as a mansion. There are living quarters for workers, courtyards in the center, a greenhouse, and numerous amount of rooms in-between.
What most people don't know about this Factory, however, is that inside its dark corridors live hundreds upon hundreds of children of all ages, ruled over by a nameless man whom they call Father. This man experiments on the children using his brilliant mind turned-mad by the desire of creating the Perfect Human. No child exists here without some kind of physical or mental deform, whether that be added mechanical parts, animal limbs, behavioral oddities, or just some kind of misshapen feature in general. Father has also already succeeded in finding a formula to prevent aging, as well as an effective method of causing amnesia, and he so generously performs both on each child so they will never grow or mature, nor remember anything of their past lives.
They all have fallen victim to Father’s insanity, although some are more loyal to him than others. Those who can say that they truly love Father and his cause have come to be called the Caretakers. While most others have jobs that keep the factory running, these children are a more elite group.
Despite all the suffering he has evoked upon them, the Caretakers will do whatever Father asks, which usually leads to them carrying out his dirty work within the Factory. This includes taking other children in for procedure or disposing of the troublemakers who refuse to submit.
In turn, he rewards them by updating the revisions he has already made to their bodies in such a way that makes it easier for the Caretakers to take part in combat.
This combat may be because of many different reasons, the main one being their job of keeping the other children in line.
It also might be because of Feeding Time, for the more capable you are, the easier it is to dominate while trying to reach the food first. All children who are willing swarm the troughs in hopes of grabbing a couple of morsels and escaping the room before the fights break out. Only the most tenacious are those who get the most rations.
There is also the scouting of the Ferrets—a separate, select group of children who are sent out to collect others to bring back to the Factory. This is a dangerous task, because they’re aren’t always orphans loose on the streets waiting be snatched. More often than not, the new children must be taken from their homes, and parents usually try to prevent this from happening. Though it most likely ends with them being viciously torn apart by those who should no longer be considered human.
Finally, there are the Undertakings. This is the only chance children besides the Caretakers get in order have their revisions edited. It is a savage tournament that can be participated in if one so desires, where two children are set against one another and the first person to demobilize the other wins the opportunity of being edited.
It usually ends with the slaughter of many.
This is the life that these children lead, and it is all that they will ever know. They are the dogs tied to the leash of their Father. Sanity continues to spiral downward for them all.

If you're interested, here's the link to the thread~
http://feralfront.com/index.php?topic=2305192

Thank you!

[fancypost borderwidth=0pt; font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; width: 350px; color: black][Ah, thank you very much! ^^]

[fancypost borderwidth=0pt; font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; width: 350px; color: black][Accepted! Would you like to start or shall we wait to see if anyone else will join?]

[fancypost borderwidth=0pt; font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; width: 350px; color: black][Oh man, that sucks;; Alright then. Would you like me to begin?]

[fancypost borderwidth=0pt; font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; width: 350px; color: black][Just give me some time to finish writing it up. ^^ Unfortunately, I'm a rather slow writer, so I apologize in advance.]

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The light patter of bare feet on wet cement echoed against the walls as a silhouette made its way down a dark corridor that was adjacent to whirring cogs and pumping pillars. Above stretched a ceiling of musty glass, and from it shown a sky of twilight as the unseen sun set across the horizon. Around the figure, swarms of ragged adolescents disbanded from their posts and jobs as they headed towards the wide set of doors that led to the sleeping quarters, while a new wave exited from the hallways to take the leaving ones’ places.
The shadowed teen cast a solemn glance around at the drawn faces of the others, before turning and stepping up on to a set of metal stairs that lead to a stretching balcony over the mass below. Children filed back and forth everywhere. Some were in groups in various, shadowed corners, others slinked away to do who-knows-what in their free time, while a few even slept curled up upon old boxes and crates that were scattered about.
They were all misshapen, and they all did their respected jobs with empty stares. If there hadn’t been the constant hum and roar of the machinery around them, only bouts of fleeting conversation would be heard arising from the mass amongst themselves.
Loe breathed a near-to-inaudible sigh, then settled down upon a solitary ledge of the balcony, sliding his legs between the bars to allow his feet to dangle over the side a couple yards above the heads of the people below. Only from the hazy stream of light filtered in by the windows could one make out the tattered layers of cloth that bound his form. Thin fingers pulled down his goggles, letting them hang loosely around his neck, then gripped at the bars of the platform as he settled his forehead between two of them. Peering down, Loe could feel the material against his eyes loosen so his eyelashes could brush against the ragged fabric. After a moment, he swung his legs slightly, vaguely aware of the fact that to anyone who wasn’t familiar with his presence, he might have appeared as some kind of wrapped corpse swaying in the nonexistent breeze. Perhaps that’s just what most people thought when they laid eyes on him. Loe played around with this observation in his head for a while, before evidently deciding that he didn’t care one way or another, and he tossed it aside.
He had approximately half an hour before the next group of Ferrets, his group, was sent out to work. Of course, he could always just not go if he wished, but eventually the Caretakers would find out about it and he’d be whipped, or burnt, or beat-up depending on their mood and who ever happened to be in charge at the time. Maybe if he was lucky, they wouldn’t notice, but it was a far-fetched thought and if Loe hadn’t already been in the state that he was, his heart would have probably sunk.
He would go. He had no reason not to. So he remained there, sitting and staring fervently at the swarm of youths below with nothing but his thoughts for company.

[fancypost borderwidth=0pt; font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; width: 350px; color: black][If it's alright, can you hold the Opening Eyes ability for me? I'll write up my form once I have the time. ^^]

[fancypost borderwidth=0pt; font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; width: 350px; color: black][So sorry for the late reply!!]

Before the older teen was even within his vicinity, Loe could feel a pair eyes boring into him. The thing was, there were always people watching him, staring. This was nothing new, but when he caught the specific individual lurking from out of the corner of his eye, Loe slowly rose his head to look up at him, his own oculars following the other from behind the curtain of cloth. He was definitely several years Loe’s senior, with that same, rugged look in his eye that most older kids seemed to have.
The wrapped child tilted his head slightly as he studied the other male. For some reason, he looked oddly familiar. Loe could have sworn he had seen the likes of him before, but it took him a moment to realize that he had actually seen the teen in an Undertaking. One of the few he had ever bothered to spectate.
The tournaments usually took place in a large ditch down within the basement of the factory. The arena was surrounded by wire mesh walls that stretched over like a roof, making it have the appearance of a looming cage. Everywhere nearby, others would swarm, either around the ring itself or in the rafters above, screaming as they encouraged the contestant of their favor.
Normally, Loe avoided the area whenever he could, but there had been a few fleeting occurrences when he witnessed a tournament out of pure curiosity. He must have seen this person during one of those fights, and by the looks of it, he seemed to be a constant participant as well.
The metal arm was certainly a determining factor of the familiarity, for it was easily memorable, though Loe was rather perplexed as to why it looked so tarnished and unkempt. Of course the Undertakings would be a reason, because trashing around in the dirt trying to stay alive would definitely take a toll on whatever revisions someone had. It was just odd that it looked so worn. Whenever Loe caught a glimpse of the infamous individuals who battled often, they would always display their powerful additions as trophy. This guy was either very modest…or lost often. Loe allowed his attention to follow him as he passed by, the clatter of the teen's ragged shoes echoing within his covered ears.

[fancypost borderwidth=0pt; font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; width: 350px; color: black][Accepted. ^^ Feel free to jump in whenever you'd like.]

[fancypost borderwidth=0pt; font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; width: 350px; color: black]Loe was about to return to the cavern of his own thoughts when a blur of grey passed across the top of his field of vision. Glancing upward, he noticed the lounging form of the animal-like girl, recognizing her as one of his fellow Ferrets. He had seen her every so often while out on scouting missions.
This was common when it came to working in the Factory. You come to recognize faces, but never names. You just do your job while keeping to yourself and remaining within the confines your own mind. This was how life here worked.
He had never spoken to her before, nor did he know her name, but he wasn't about to ask for it now. It wasn't so much that Loe was disinterested; he just preferred not to confront anyone in verbal interaction, or any kind of interaction for that matter, even in passing conversation. To put it plainly, he was shy, though his emotional indifference prevented him from realizing or accepting this. His introversive tendencies had become more of an instinctive, self-preservation measure than anything else.
Loe simply granted her a long, calculating stare as he studied her features from within this closer proximity, before turning away and closing in on himself once again, absently reaching up with a hand to pull the wrapping down further over his face.

[fancypost borderwidth=0pt; font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; width: 350px; color: black][The title says it all. If you're interested, let me know. Thank you! ^^]