Posts by mousy

Hey guys, it's Motley!

For some reason I can't access my account so I'm just going to continue on this new one.

You can delete my old posts just so it's not confusing with two accounts with the same form.

[img height=225 width=400]http://31.media.tumblr.com/a01…lxmwUWh01syiqcqo1_400.gif[/img]

[size=15pt]MARNIE RENAE WALLACE[/size][/fancypost]
[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; width: 400px; margin-top: -28px;]

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[justify]_{NAME
Marnie Renae Wallace}

_{NICKNAME(S)
None}

_AGE
Nineteen

_{GENDER
Female}

_{SEXUALITY
Bisexual}

_{BIRTHDAY
June 20th}

_{BIRTHPLACE
Chicago, Illinois}

_{ZODIAC SIGN
Gemini}

_{RANK & POSITION
Cor & Vigil}
[/justify]

[hr]

[justify]_{APPEARANCE
Dark brown strands of soft hair frame her long face, falling straight down from her scalp and stopping just past her shoulder blades. There isn't a curl to be found throughout her hair, every strand as straight as a pin and as soft as silk, even when humidity causes it to frizz. Though it always seems to remain stylish in some aspect, as if she put effort into making it look nice. Most days she could hardly be bothered, so her hair is either simply down or up in a high ponytail or messy bun, but never curled.}

_{The color of her hair matches her eyes, her irises only a hint lighter, and never ceasing to sparkle with emotion. They are the window into her soul and inner feelings, holding her secrets and inner demons, though trying to read her expressions are hard. Her eyes are her only feature that cannot lie. Her sultry smiles and words are deceiving, but her eyes are never lying. They are filled with life and hold the key to her past, though her dark pink lips would never speak of it, and her straight teeth would chew away the words.}

_{With dark hair and dark eyes comes dark skin, sun kissed and a lively glow to it. Hardly any imperfections beside a few minor scars and small freckles, which are hardly noticeable with her tanned complexion. Just a right shade, slightly beyond tan but not unhealthy. She could almost pass as foreign, with her exotic almond shaped eyes, high cheek bones, and pointed chin. Though she classifies as American, with a healthy weight, fit build, and standing taller than average at five feet six inches.}

_{FIRST IMPRESSION
At first glance, it's easy to establish Marnie as a friendly soul with the positive vibes she gives off, and her well mannered and respectful attitude. Though dig a little deeper and you'll find that Marnie has a cunning side, with selfish purposes affecting her actions.}

_{STANCE & GAIT
When standing, her stance remains strong with her back straight, her shoulders rolled back, and her chin held high. Only when completely comfortable does she relax, her shoulders gently slumping and her dominating stance washing away to reveal her more vulnerable side. Though her gait always remains the same, with her stance strong, her hips swaying seductively, and her arms swinging gently at her sides.}

_{IDENTIFYING MARKS
Several minor scars throughout her body.}

_{FACE CLAIM
Lindsey Morgan}
[/justify]

[hr]

[justify]<sub>PERSONALITY
Will be finishing this section as the character develops.
- Amiable
- Clever
- Cunning
- Manipulative
- Selfish</sub>

<sub>HOBBIES
- Reading
- Writing
- Jogging</sub>

_{GODLY PARENT
Hermes, the Greek God of commerce.}

_{HUMAN PARENT
Unknown}

_{CABIN
Hades cabin}

<sub>STRENGTHS
- Communication
- Deception
- Persuasion</sub>

<sub>WEAKNESSES
- Swimming
- Physical stamina
- Climbing</sub>

_{FATAL FLAW
Marnie's fatal flaw is her inability to resist trouble.}

_{WEAPON
A wand}
[/justify]

[hr]

[justify]<sub>HISTORY
Will be finishing this section as the character develops.
- Unknown parents
- Raised in the system
- Criminal record
- Brought to OH</sub>

_{ALLIES & ENEMIES
To be discovered}

_{INFATUATION
To be discovered}

_PETS
None
[/justify]

[hr]

[/fancypost]

[align=center]Still a work in progress, obviously.

I'm almost finished with my form!

Are there any active roleplaying threads that I can join when I'm finished with my form?

Sorry I feel like I'm asking so many questions and stuff, omg please don't hate me.

Oh okay, sure! But um, which face claims aren't taken? I'm not sure where the directory is.

Oh okay, thank you!

Quick question!

Omg sorry for asking so many stupid questions.

Does my form have to be completely finished and accepted before I roleplay? I usually write the personality section when my character is developed, but since my character is new, I'm finding it difficult. I was thinking, if it would be okay, to write it once I have a better feel for her? I mean, if you rather me write it out beforehand, I can muster something up, I just can't guarantee how good it will be.

Oh okay, thanks everyone!

@ᴀǫᴜɪʟᴇɢɪᴀ: Oh yeah, I completely forgot about that part. I wasn't entirely sure what to put as a weapon, so I put the wand. Any suggestions?

Oh okay, I'll come up with something then. Lol sorry 'bout that.

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=#212121 borderwidth=0px; font-family: times new roman; font-style:; font-size: 15px; color: #000000; text-transform: uppercase; margin-top: 10px; letter-spacing: 9px; opacity: 0.99; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000;]MARNIE RANAE WALLACE[/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=#212121 borderwidth=0px; font-family: times new roman; font-style:; font-size: 9px; color: #000000; text-transform: uppercase; margin-top: 10px; letter-spacing: 4px; opacity: 0.99; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000;]A wise old owl lived in an oak
The more he saw the less he spoke[/fancypost]

A gentle breeze broke through the heavy humidity that hung in the air, dancing delicately against all objects that sat obstructed in its way. Slipping through the branches and carelessly ruffling the leafs that hung from them, the breeze continued its path and crept upon Marnie, who began her trek towards the bonfire. She welcomed the sudden sensation with a small smile playing on her lips, letting it bounce against her exposed neck and slither past her shirt, grazing down her spine until it perished.

The soft murmur that once originated off in the far distance grew louder with every step Marnie took, and the smell of burning wood began to tickle her nostrils. The mere smell pulled her forth seductively, and like a puppet being tugged at the strings, she quickened her pace, anticipation building within her. This would be the first bonfire of the summer, and with the sun taking its sweet time to lower beyond the clear horizon, it proved to be a perfect night.

The only thing that would make it any more perfect was some alcohol to drown her sorrows in.

Reaching the beach, Marnie came to a stop once her feet reached the sand, sinking in just below the delicate surface that the breeze continued to disturb. The unfortunate grains were never given the chance to settle before the next breath of air breathed upon the Earth and carried the sand elsewhere. And, as sand swept across her boots, Marnie continued on her way, the breeze against her back ushering her forward towards the raging flames that soared towards the sky.

"I think I might have an idea." mused Marnie in response to Tillie, who's words were soaked in mischief. With a smirk on her own lips, she eyed the alcohol, her thirst growing more intense. Though she initially refrained from reaching for one, her eyes flickering towards Evelyn who looked quite uncomfortable. It was undoubtably because of the alcohol that lingered nearby, evidently too close for comfort. But instead of speaking, she shot the young woman a small smile, in an amiable yet silent greeting.

I'm thinking perhaps an uber-advanced historical plot, if you'd be up for it.

Quietly tracking until I can come up with a plot, or let alone decide a genre.

California Pizza Kitchen and Florida are both life.

What genres do you have the most muse for right now?

No, I actually don't. I was thinking some type of medieval romance.

Maybe royalty? I'm thinking maybe something along the lines of GoT but I can't think of a good plot to save my life. Something that's not cliche, of course. Have any ideas?

Maybe muse A is used as a pawn by the King, who wishes muse B dead. So he instructed to gain access into the castle and kill muse B when the timing is right. But realizing that he is beginning to have feelings for her, muse A decides to confess. Only, after not getting the job finished as quickly as the King wished, they find that they are under attack and have to flee.

You up for The 100 or maybe like some twisted circus romance? I dunno.

Maybe muse A, if you don't mind. And I can make the thread as well. :)

[img height=150]http://38.media.tumblr.com/a56…m4w1zQaD1rtcla1o3_250.gif[/img] [img height=150 width=200]http://31.media.tumblr.com/78c…6tx6WH6k1rj4v9oo4_250.gif[/img] [img height=150]http://38.media.tumblr.com/a56…m4w1zQaD1rtcla1o3_250.gif[/img]

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=#212121 borderwidth=0px; font-family: times new roman; font-style:; font-size: 15px; color: #000000; text-transform: uppercase; margin-top: 10px; letter-spacing: 9px; opacity: 0.99; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000;]RHETT MALIN SMITH[/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=#212121 borderwidth=0px; font-family: times new roman; font-style:; font-size: 9px; color: #000000; text-transform: uppercase; margin-top: 10px; letter-spacing: 4px; opacity: 0.99; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000;]All around the cobbler's bench
The monkey chased the weasel[/fancypost]

Blood as dark as the finest southern wine stained the cobblestone as the old peasant crumbled to his death, a heavy laceration originating from his chest, where Rhett had plunged his sword. This had received him a sudden applause from the crowd who watched on from above, leaned forward in their seats, their eyes twinkling with a morbid sense of delight. It nearly made Rhett sick to his stomach the way they applauded a senseless death, though he knew from their hushed anticipation that there was more to be excepted.

Shifting his weight nervously, his fingers anxiously tightened around the handle of his sword, the merciless rays of sunlight reflecting off of the blade and illuminating the blood that dripped onto his feet below. He almost hadn’t noticed that his skin was stained with the innocent’s blood, unconsciously passing it as sweat that beaded from his pores as the afternoon progressed. With chalices being refilled with fresh wine, Rhett knew that the little show wouldn’t be ending any time soon, and his theory was proven true when a new opponent was thrown his way.

The man was so far from the old peasant that laid sprawled out on the ground. He was nearly the complete opposite, when it came down to physical attributions. Double the size of Rhett, muscles seemed to explode from the beautiful sun kissed skin, veins scratching against the surface of the flesh. He was a bull, raging towards Rhett at full speed, his sword drawn and aimed at his chest. All Rhett could do was watch, his eyes searching for a way out as his feet disobediently refused to lift off the ground.

“Will the great Malin claim victory once more, or has he met his greatest foe?”

Stepping out of the bull’s pathway seemingly just in time, Rhett quickly drew his sword and sliced it through the air, leaving the bull disarmed as his sword flew through the air and fell yards away. Cheers eroded from the crowd, though the world suddenly went completely silent, and everything began to move in slow motion. In one instant, the bull was stumbling out of confusion, and the next he was on the ground, his belly up and Rhett’s sword against his neck.

Chest heaving and sweat dripping from his face, he repositioned his grip on the handle, his knuckles whitening from his tight grasp. For a short moment, he lost his balance, the feeling of the earth spinning on its axis taking over his senses. The sun was beating down on him, and his mouth was running dry from dehydration. Oh, would he kill for their little show to be over, so he could be rewarded with his own life, accompanied by a chalice of wine and a cool bath.

“By the grace of the New Gods, the great Malin has claimed victory once more!”

Pulling the blade out from the depths of the bull’s neck, Rhett dropped the sword, stumbling back with his eyes narrowed. The noises coming from the crowd were fading in and out, and all he could see were dark silhouettes moving about. Taking a step back, he stopped, glancing down to meet the lifeless gaze of the old peasant, who’s hand was beneath his shoe. The poor old man had been arrested for treason, and sentenced to death by combat. Perhaps his death wasn't entirely senseless. He died for what he believed in.

The room offered no more solace than the courtyard did, the air still as warm and heavy upon Rhett’s shoulders as he took a seat at the table, only now feeling a bit more human, with his skin no longer stained with blood, sweat, and dirt. No one seemed to pay that any mind, however, their eyes only lightly settling upon him for short moments at a time, as if he were the sun, or perhaps an ugly wench. Either way, he was addressed as neither to his own relief, instead by his middle name, which the people seemed to find a fitting nickname.

Milan meant little warrior, which they found him to be, after arresting him and sentencing him to death by combat like the others. However, unlike the others, he had managed to survive his trial, and continue to survive week after week. It was becoming amusing to everyone - besides Rhett, of course - as well as a good show to the people, who cheered his name on their very tongues. But, as the small council took their places around the table, it became clear to Rhett that this was about something more than his sentence.

“He has proved himself today, as well as the past weeks, which is why I urge that he is the one to go.” spoke the grand maester, a portly middle aged man that stood no taller than five feet four inches. Although his height lacked common standards, he was highly respected, and people considered his words carefully. “I see no one else fit to go.”

The commander of the king’s guard was quick to intervene, scoffing in disbelief with an expression nonetheless ignorant. Some say that his good looks got to his head as a teenager, but he was the best at his position, regardless of his unbearable personality. “Are you sayin’ that you think that bloat over there is more fit to go than a knight of the king’s guard?” he questioned, his elbow propped up on the table and his index finger pointing at Rhett.

“Why, yes-”

“Have you gone mad?”

Rhett’s eyes flickered over to the master of whisperers, who began to clear his throat in preparation to speak. Taking the hint, the two stopped their quarreling respectively, and turned to face the younger gentleman, who’s eyes were twinkling with mischief. They always seemed to be, regardless of the occasion. “I think some of us have forgotten why he was recommended for the job in the first place. He is an unknown face, making him more likely to gain access than that of a knight in the king’s guard. And with his skill in killing, he is equip to get the job done.”

Like the hour prior, he found himself the center of attention once more, all eyes set upon him, in various expressions. So many questions ran through his head, though as he parted his lips to speak, he found no words came out. What he had managed to comprehend was nearly dreadful, death seeming to linger on him like a woman's perfume. In that moment, he feared that he would never be able to escape it.

“I don’t quite understand why I’m here.”

“Of course you don’t.” scoffed the commander of the king’s guard, throwing up his hands as a servant poured him another chalice of wine. “If the bloat can’t even catch on to what we’re sayin’-”

“You’ve been chosen for a special mission, that in return, will grant you your freedom.” the grand maester spoke up, cutting off the commander of the king’s guard mid-sentence, to the relief of Rhett, who was growing irritated.

“You want me to kill someone.”

“Not just someone.” the man corrected gently, leaning forward in his chair. “The king’s daughter.”

“Wake up, ye bloat.”

Eyes fluttering open, Rhett set his hazy gaze on the commander of the king’s guard, who was leaning over him, his shoe nudging into his outstretched leg. Had Rhett not been chained to the wall, he would’ve made a move against the threatening demeanor that the commander presented.

With the bridge of his nose crinkling at the pungent oder of urine, and perhaps the mere sight of the commander of the king’s guard, Rhett cocked his chin up, defiance taking over his expression. He had almost forgotten about the mission, reality slipping from him as he slept, his dreams filled with the better days, when he was free and not imprisoned deep within the dungeons.

“It’s a ‘bout time to get a move on.” grumbled the commander with a disapproving frown playing on his lips. It was clear, even in the dim lighting with the gentle candle light flickering upon his features, that the commander still didn’t approve of Rhett being selected. “But before we go...”

Straightening out his back, the commander took a step back, examining Rhett as he sat slouched against the wall, his arms chained above his head. They didn’t trust him enough to sleep without chains. Rhett could hardly blame them, though it didn’t make the position any more comfortable. The ground was hard, moist from dew and urine, and the bricks were unforgiving against his back. It was nearly impossible to get any decent sleep.

“We’ve got to give ye a new look.” His tone was far from comforting, and as his hands formed into threatening fists against his side, Rhett couldn’t help but unconsciously do the same. His weak attempt at defense was scoffed at by the commander, who found his attempt amusing.

Rumor had it, when facing death, your life flashes before your eyes.

Blinking, Rhett saw nothing but the commander coming towards him, his fist closing in on his face.

“It’ll be over before ye know it.”

And then, just as his fist came into contact with his face, the world went black.

Like a fire storm, the sky lit up and became several shades of orange with a pink undertone, washing over the stars that bleed through the clouds. Creeping past the castle and finding its right position in the sky, the sun radiated off of the worn stones and gave them a golden hue. It was beautiful, the way the rays of sunlight filtered down onto the kingdom so gently. Perhaps the heavenly weather was a good omen.

In a slow, limping pursuit, Rhett continued down the hill, his face twisted into a permanent grimace, contorted with a swollen eye and busted lip, accompanied with several various bruises and cuts throughout his body. Though that’s hardly where most of his pain originated. One of his ribs had been broken, and his ankle twisted so severely that his gait was slow and jagged.

Off in the distance, below the hill and somewhere within the field behind the castle, a light laughter filled the air and echoed towards him. It was her, he was sure of it. But just to ensure that he didn’t mess up, he scanned the area, his dark irises flickering quickly. She was there, out in the field by the garden, looking ever so happy as she continued to laugh, her smile radiating as much as the sun.

To bad such a beauty had to die.

Reaching the end of the hill, Rhett stumbled, his legs giving out from the nights long journey. His injuries slowed him down immensely, though he had managed to make it through the night, and now as the morning began, he realized that his agonizing journey was almost at an end. He couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

Crawling forward, the grass gently tickled his nostrils, the morning dew wetting his chin. This was taking too long, and he couldn’t stand going any further. “Help,” he cried out weakly, his voice breaking through the air. He only hoped that she would hear him.

[OOC]

Sorry, I feel like it's so rushed and bland in some areas. I promise my writing will get better! Anyways, if there's anything you'd like me to change, please let me know! I wasn't really sure where to take it by the end.