Posts by TheScarletKing

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Amber held the bottle of golden liquid close to her, hugging it as if the contents could save her. They very well have in a way, but in another way they have been slowly destroying her. They have been tearing apart her soul brick by tedious brick, slowly breaking her down until she was nothing left but a husk left to wander this Earth, this Hell. She supposed it could be worse for her, she could be dangling from her neck until her bones crumbled away into nothingness. Her brains could be splattered across the wall as if she were an artist with a sickening portrait to paint, or perhaps she'd be in an endless sleep with a bottle of pills in one hand, a suicide note in the other. Whatever the case may be, she had to remember that this bottle was the life and death of her.

Slowly, Amber rose from her spot against the ruins of a worn-down building. The Earth shook and wobbled as if an Earthquake had torn through the land without causing damage to any of these delicate surroundings. A grumble of foul words escaped her breath as she slowly moved against the wall, hand pressing against the heated bricks. Intoxicated was not the word to describe Amber's condition, sick was a much more suitable word. The alcohol came to mask the pain, the pain of losing everything you know and love in the blink of an eye. It had been two years since the world turn to dust and ashes, yet the pain felt as if the cut were new. How could this still be real? This still felt like some sickening nightmare, yet the girl knew better. A nightmare can be escaped from with a hard scare, and she's had plenty of those yet reality has not shaken her yet. A sigh escaped her lips, and she continued on her clumsy way.

Amber's eyes darted to her left, and then to her right, and then back again to her left. Her hand was securely curled around the handle of a revolver, the safety removed from the weapon although it was pointed to the ground. She had to be wary in this new world, for with it came unimaginable dangers. Most of them came in biting jaws and grabbing hands, but they only roamed the streets at night. She had heard that the sun damages their eyesight, and to preserve it they only awoke from their dead slumber when the light had retreated to the west. That's where they had gotten their unofficial nickname "Night Crawlers", or Crawlers for short. Well, how could anything be official these days? Everyone's either dead or undead, and she'd prefer it to be the prior.

Not everyone, there still ran the risk of running into a gang of thugs. Testosterone boosted bad-asses who felt like the big dogs just because there were no laws to chain them anymore. Amber had been unfortunate enough to run into these people once, and while she was fortunate enough to escape from them barely, not with her virtues. She didn't like to think about it, but needless to say she preferred the merciless dead than the horrendous living. No, prefer was to weak of a word.

Amber took a long, bitter swig of the whiskey in her hands, savoring the horrific taste of it. The taste was probably the worst that one could ever place on their tongue, but the taste soon became a comfort in contrast to the pain that drove her to drink it. The drops ran dry in the bottle, and a scowl was set on her face as she threw it to the side of a building. The loud crashing sound of breaking glass reverberated through her ears, and she cursed under her breath as she ran for a hiding place. She settled for the ruins of a burnt car, one that would be easy enough to hide in should someone come, yet not easy enough to be spotted when they come.

Upon approaching the ruined vehicle, the burnt ashes of bodies were in the two front seats, and the back seats did not contained blackened bones but rather charred, destroyed seats that seemed to crumble away upon touching them. Her body fit easily enough through the broken window, and she did not hesitate to fall onto the floor in between the front and back seats. Her body pressed to the ground, her hands were securely pressed against her revolver, and despite the drunk spinning of her mind she managed to gain enough focus to hone in on the sounds around her. They were still for the most part, until they were disturbed by a set of footsteps.

Plot

My character, Amber, loves the bottle more than life. It's the zombie apocalypse, her family was dead, and everything's out to kill her so what can she say? She has a problem.

Anyways, your charrie comes along {Guy} and spots her unsettled and drunk, so he has a conscious mind and decides to help her out. Amber refuses the help, having been r@ped by the last group of people she met and she doesn't want to go through that again. Eventually though, through time and saving each other's skin, they begin to fall for each other although both are afraid of the inevitable death that surrounds them.

If you want to join, you MUST be able to type at least that much of what I typed {Or somewhere around that}. No one paragraphs and DEFINITELY no one-liners. If your semi-advanced, get out because I only want advanced. I love ya but I just can't get muse off of such short posts.

I see that you're not responding much lately.... Anything I can do to help your muse? I really want to keep this thread alive and maybe some plot brainstorming can help?

It's fine, I just didn't want this thread to die before we even got to the main plot. That would be a shame...

Anyways, how about... Hm.... HMM....

Well I was thinking about an assassination attempt but that would be gold for a moment, and then a pain in the ass for a long time...

Hm...

How about a death in the family?

A blade, silver and sharp, was the only movement to slice through the stillness of the air. The weapon was a potent weapon, one that could be plunged into the chest of any man and slice through the pumping heart. The beat would be slowed, it would be stopped, and death would be the only and last thing to follow that movement. It was the sweetest feeling that could be felt by a woman, the thing that was craved most by her body. Most would tell her that the best thing in the world was a husband's love, or her child's soft touch, but they were all rats with a snake's tongue. They simply didn't like the idea of a woman in their army, and they'd rather have her as a housewife than anything else. She's already proven her worth, yet that's not enough. That's never enough unfortunately.

An arm was pushed into her own to redirect the knife's path, and a knee being pressed into her gut. A split second before the impact rushed through her, the air was pushed out of her body to prevent the blow from knocking the wind out of her. At that, her fist was thrown into the side of her opponents head, and the knife moving upward all at the same time. It stopped just short of tearing through the boy's skin, and a smile crossed her face. "Check mate, I win," Garsea murmured with an upwards curve of her lips. She pushed away from her shocked trainee, taking a cloth from her shoulder and wiping the sweat from her face. "You need to be more aware of your opponents moves, need to be less cautious of your own. The single most important rule of fighting is distinguishing your enemy's "kill". Most moves are simply there to stall you from the real deal, and when your body tries to react don't be afraid to stop it," The warrior lectured with a stern voice before moving from the ring.

Garsea's eyes moved to her left where the generals were sitting, and her arms threw up into the air. Her movement was silent and quick, but enough to show those men that she was just begging for more. A smirk came to her face as she left the yard and retreated back into the low, yet large, stone building used to house the army. A mere grunt was not where this woman belonged when she could best even the generals in battle, yet it's where they chose to place her. Just because she had rounded breasts instead of a flat chest, and because she would be addressed as "Milady" instead of "Milord". Heh, it was a blood-boiling thought for her, but it's one that drove a sense of ambition through her. It became a goal of her to be the best that any mere man in this army can be, and then be 100x better. Only then will she be truly satisfied with the things life had chosen for her.

Hehe, I was totally not thinking that...

Anyways, who kicks the bucket is the question?

Yeah that's who I initially thought but we could use him for so much more evil later on, and then a sad death. He's the perfect person to be our antagonist for a while....

Why not his wife, which kind of triggers him into trying to kill Drahzan?

They would be bad-ass assassins, so I agree with you on those two points. I initially thought that he was away to plan the assassination attempt so... yeah I think this works out well.

Well the point of getting rid of Cleo is to add interest into the plot. If you didn't like her, it wouldn't make the plot any more interesting. If you'd prefer Aslan to die instead of Cleo, then get rid of Cleo. :p

*Idea*

Why not have the assassination attempt happen after Drahzan announces he's a Hybrid? Cause Aslan probably would've kept a lid on hating the Canine after all of that had happened, but perhaps not a Hybrid who had married his daughter and stolen his throne?

Yeah and perhaps the Hybrids, now that they're free, decide to stick up for themselves which results in mob beatings, an explosion in crime rates, and eventually Drahzan's forced to place them under martial law, which is all he could do to prevent a Civil War {Which may or may not happen, depending on the direction this thread takes}?

Would you like to do a Dragon-Shifter/Medieval thread?

The war is what started the madness around us. The dragons that commanded the element of fire were angry with the dragons that commanded air. The fire dragons didn't see it as fair that they were flightless and without wings. The air dragons were peaceful creatures and unlike their fiery, rebellious cousins refused to bicker over what cannot be changed.

This angered the fire dragons. What coward can refuse a challenge? Well they decided to get their attention by attacking the other elemental dragons. They slaughtered dragons by the thousands and burnt the dragon capitols to the ground. The air dragons still, however, refused to go to war. They sought help from their Goddess, Aeras. Aeras denied being able to end the tyranny of the fire dragons, but gave the air dragons a human copy in which to help them in battle. It was a brutal massacre that lasted 181 days and nights. The fire dragons were slaughtered, killed in massive droves. But the air dragons only lost 181 soldiers, one on each day.

A glorious victory, yes? Some might see it this way but the air dragons were ashamed with themselves. They told Aeras to resurrect the dragons from all elements in exchange for their own lives. And, to avoid further conflicts over the matter, to give their power of flight to one dragon from each element. Aeras agreed to the offer and transferred the life energy from each of the air dragons to the other dragons that had lost their lives, including the ability to fly to one dragon from each element. Aeras even gave the dragons yet another ability, to shift into the form of their human counterpart. Aeras informed the fire dragons of the sacrifice the air dragons made in order to restore their lives, and laid a heavy burden on their souls. Aeras then told the fire dragons, "In 181 years, there will be another war. And when that time comes you will not be as fortunate."

It's been 181 years since that fateful day. The war's already started. My people are blaming Aeras for the poor harvest. Some are saying that this is retribution for their descendants mistakes. But the majority are blaming the other elements for rigging the poor growing conditions. I can hardly keep my people in line and the Council have already declared war on the {Insert your element here}'s. Aeras will destroy us all if I don't stop this.

Kind of what I have in mind, it's from several threads I tried to start but no one ever joined...

Except more refined cause I think we can make this better, it's from when I didn't know how to write :/

Hehehe, we're two evil people

Anyways, do you want to continue where we left off or go ahead and skip to when they're already the rulers of their Kingdoms and the plots going to start?

{Either way, can you type the first post since I typed the last one?}

...They're the same people, they just shift into dragons. Like werewolves? You do realize this, right? XD

Anyways, That's actually what happens in the thread. Forbidden romance that starts off as them just meeting in secret which escalates to them loving each other.

Of course, give me a second though.

Tracking

No problemo mi new amigo. I would've replied last night but we just got this cute wittle puppy and she was trying to teethe on me computer.

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Date Gilbert Wilkins

18

M-7657, that is the name tattooed onto his wrist and the number haunts him, plays the possessed spirit and traps his body in turmoil. His brothers and his sisters carry the same identical face, all claim ownership over one demonic body. Everyone in every inch of this world are not just related to you, they are you. The only thing that identifies one drone to the next is the number tattooed on their wrist, the only difference between one another. His own name was stretched the process of growth, faded with 24 years of tedious aging, but it was still readable and clear. His clothing was a simple white tunic with khaki pants, one that matched the outfit of so many others. His hair was shaved away, and is only allowed to grow a certain length before it must be shaved again. The punishment for disobedience is death, the only punishment for being Awake is death.

That was M-7657's job, to slaughter those that were cursed with a working head. His own head was cursed, touched by the hands of the Devil himself, and was riddled with poisonous... poisonous... thoughts... Ssshhhh! The mere mention of the word could get suspicion thrown in your direction without even a second to realize what had just happened. Most go stark-raving mad from the voices of these Demons, screaming fits and wailing souls, shells of what they had once been. They had once been human, pure, but now they were Awake and the Union could not be tainted with such impurity, such evil. The death was a painless blow to the head usually, but on occasion there would be those who actually acted upon the wills of those horrid voices, and they are given a painful, tedious death. They are burned in front of the eyes of those that are pure, unable to speak of their impurity and unable to spread the virus that their body contained. To see your own body, writhing and screaming in pain as the skin and flesh is melted from their bodies... It was to awful for words to describe.

"M-7657," He heard his name being called. "Why have you not fallen victim to the plague your own brothers are long dead for?"

"I don't know your Majesty."

"M-7657," He heard his name being called. "Why are you still a militia-man where your skills could be much more useful as a general?"

"I don't know your Majesty."

"M-7657," He heard his name being called. "You will be posted in Sub-439. There you will capture the large amounts of Awake roaming the area. Complete this task and we will discuss a promotion."

M-7657 wanted to smile, but his face remained bland as he stood at the cross section of two streets. His eyes scanned the crowd like an animal hunting its prey, defenseless and inhuman. The voices in his head were shouting at him to disappear into the crowd and hide away in the Lost Forest, never to be seen again and never to be touched again, but he ignored these voices. They were evil enough as it is, telling him to quit his fellow brethren for a life of solitude. Ways do not get any more evil than that.

That's a little short I know, it's pretty short compared to most of my posts really. It's just an RP sample that I always use cause I think it's well written.

It's perfectly fine, it's better than having to wait a week for a post.

Oh and thanks, her name's Layla and I'm already her favorite. She would not sleep with my mom last night but slept like a baby with me for the first few hours. She didn't whine for her mom {I guess I'm her new mom now } but she kept teething on me and then would come up and rest her head on me shoulder like that would make everything {It did. Would an 8-week old puppy with her head on your should not make anything and everything she did better?}. She's also super good, hasn't peed in the house once and doesn't hesitate to go when we stick her butt outside. She's so corky too, like she has this weird habit of jumping up in the air for no reason. Gosh I wove this dog

"Oww, oww... Watch what you're doing dammit!" Drahzan snapped as a maid carelessly pressed a cold, damp rag to his eye. What was wrong with it? Nothing truly, save the fact that it was swollen and bruised. Oh yes, the Alpha had his ass beat down by a much larger, much more aggressive male. He did nothing to provoke such an attack truly... Well, he may have flirted with his mate with enough ignorance not to heed the man standing ten feet away from them. There was no harm done with this behavior though, it was simply in good fun. Alright, there was the possibility that this could've gone to bed if her mate hadn't been there, and he does have a problem. The man was not used to being tied down to one female, and while she was the love of his life, she wasn't always enough to satisfy him.

The maid did not seem to take Drahzan's warning to heart, and simply left him to tend to his own injury. "You need to dress into something else, Milord, for I'm sure that bloody attire will be frowned upon by your mother... Which is nothing you need with that black eye of yours," The woman warned as she helped Drahzan out of his worn attire. The soiled rags that had been called clothes were thrown to the corner of the room to be cleaned later, and the maid helped him change into something else. It was not his usual attire, for the coat was a dark blue color with a black sash going across it, as well as black dress pants to match. It wasn't truly a favorite in his wardrobe, but it would do for this festival.

"Thank you dear, I think this will do quite nicely," Drahzan commented without a hint of emotion in his voice, although fear was obviously bubbling in his stomach. He could not go in front of his Kingdom with this swollen lump on his face, and worse yet he could never confront his mate with such an ugly mark. His ears will be chewed off by the lecture he'd receive from Mau, and he was sure that a mating session would not come to the couple for a while after. Well, he supposed he might be able to do something about this problem.

The Alpha moved off to the side of the room, looking over the maid's dresser cautiously as he studied the contents sitting on it. No, it was nothing to gloat over but he found enough face paint to cover the odd coloring of his wound. The swelling would not die down as easily but he could at least hide this from his people, and hopefully Mau if she suddenly lost the ability to see. His fingers did not hesitate to dip down into woman's makeup, ignoring the scowl boring into his back for invading the maid's privacy. Heh, it was cute how that old woman thought that Drahzan would fear her more than his mate, but he did not heed that for now as he was too busy smothering himself in the face paint. Of course the man was not accustomed to using this, and put obviously way too much of it on. The shade did not match his own shade either, his being a slight shade lighter. Hm, it was better than nothing. From a distance you couldn't really tell if you looked over it quickly.

Drahzan then nodded to the working woman before leaving the room that had been shelter to him while his black eye had been attended to. He still didn't know what to tell Mau, that he had attempted to cheat on her but instead got a beat down? He couldn't tell her the truth, although he knew she wouldn't be satisfied with anything but. The thought troubled him, but he came to the conclusion that he'd only bring it up if she spotted it and if she did, he'd tell a lie close to the truth.

Drahzan probably would've noticed had he not been in the midst of the realm of his own thoughts, but here came Mau right down the corridor. His eyes traveled up to the figure of his mate just before he was about to bump into her, and a smile came to his face. His arms wrapped around Mau as he brought her to him, placing a quick yet loving kiss onto her lips before quickly pulling away from the embrace and moving to her side. "Ready?" He asked, offering her his arm.

It's fine, just take your time.

PICTURES.

She sounds flipping adorable though. How old is she? We just got Layla Saturday night, and today she seems to be a little less sleepy and a little more Hellish. She's going in the house, chewing on everyone and everything, jumping around the house for no exact reason {Although right now she's sleeping on me}.

Drahzan allowed her to remove a smudge of the make up, eyeing her warily for a sharp scolding or a heated threat. Neither of those things touched his ears, although he was sure that the lecture of a lifetime would rear its ugly head if she were to learn that he had tried to take another woman to bed. In order to save his own ears, and perhaps his spot in bed, he gave her a small smile and a light shrug of his shoulders as if this was nothing more than a hilarious misunderstanding, yet so far no one's laughing.

"Nothing for you to fret over, my love. The simple situation happened out as me uttering some rude remark that must have offended someone because before I knew it, my eye was swollen and bruised," Drahzan explained rather casually as if the words he uttered were not a lie, or at least not a total lie. The man's mouth had gotten him into trouble, and the soft words were those that had offended another enough to where the man wanted to punch Drahzan's face out. It was also a known fact that Drahzan's teasing was just as bad as his flirting, and so could only hope and pray that this woman did not pick out the missing holes in his answer. He wouldn't let her.

Drahzan gently took the hand of his mate before bringing the limb to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it soon after he had given her the explanation of what happened. "Now we can't leave people waiting for too long, as much as I'd like to. We can discuss this more later if you wish," Drahzan reassured his mate, taking her by the hand and leading her through the halls of the castle. There would be no later in the truth of the matter, he wished to discuss it no more than he wanted to slam his head into a door until he saw stars. Well, Mau would probably knock his head around so fast if she caught wind of this that he would see stars anyhow.

There were guards to the couples left, and then to their right, boxing them in as they approaced the courtyard. Festivals were rarely held anywhere near the Castle, usually towards the center of the Kingdom where the rich met poor, and wealthy met needy. It was middle ground so to speak, but the Spring festival was always held in the castle yards whenever something significant happened in the castle. A death on those sorrowful occasions, the arrival of a newborn heir on more joyous times, or the crowning of new Alphas as the case is now. No matter the circumstances, they try to keep the festival uplifting although it was obviously not as much of a concern this time around. The people held somber expressions as they waited for the opening speech from their new Alphas, as was expected from every festival. Eyes moved up to their rulers and Drahzan took his place on a balcony overlooking the courtyard, his eyes wandering to Mau as if waiting for confirmation to begin.