Posts by peachfuzz221

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I sure am - I would SO love it if you would join XD Glad it caught someone's attention ~

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[font=Angsana New]None that come to mind - This is a pretty straight forward thread. If you have any questions for me, though, feel free to ask. I only ask that you do not limit yourself in terms a creativity. The more thought put into it, the better ~

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[justify]I thought it was actually a very good first post. A lot of background information, which is appreciated, that I tend to use in later posts for my character. I was aware that it was a scrollie since I used to use some myself. I welcome long posts! Forgive me for this one, it is a bit rushed.[/justify]

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[justify]The hoard of testosterone filled men reaped through the food like a clan of starving hyenas gorging on a rank carcass, making sure it was picked clean before they gnawed on the blood stained bones. All that was left on the tables were a few half-broken trays and a mere fraction of leftovers that would not satisfy even a child. This was when Rory took her turn to partially fill a plate and eat what little she could scavenge. It was the women who claimed the cafeteria first and the women who ate first, but Rory was not one for the hassle of fighting for first pickings. She was not one for eating most of the time either and has been known to skip meals every now and again.

The cafeteria became a bit more lively since the men arrived. Prisoners mingled like they were at a social club and it was around this time, almost everyday, when people felt they could loosen up and pretend they were not trapped inside these suffocating, white walls that held them captive. Sanctum had a certain, rare affect on the lowlifes it housed that regular prisons failed to emanate. Maybe it was the feeling it gave prisoners that reminded them that they were still human, that they still had a life whether they were locked up or not. It was not a paradise by far, but sometimes even Rory would lay at night and come to the conclusion that Sanctum had its perks and if she had to be put away anywhere, she was content that it was Sanctum.

Downing the rest of her drink, she left the glass to take a smoke break. Sanctum had rules and restricted the use of drugs, cigarettes, and practically anything else that could drive one of the prisoners to the brink of insanity. After all, screw ups, panic attacks, and daily break downs were a common sight, especially among the women, without the use of harmful chemicals. However, what the warden did not know, or chose to simply ignore, is that there was a secret place in Sanctum's concrete playground where nobodies like Rory could indulge in the addictive pleasure of a freshly lit cigarette. She would reek of tobacco afterwards, but the irresistible inhalation of sense-numbing smoke was a pleasure all too good to pass up.

Rory kept a twelve pack in the breast pocket of her leather jacket whenever she felt the urge to smoke. If one searched hard enough, they could find the her dealer who had novelties a plenty and was cheap when it came to prices or bribes. Where he acquire his merchandise, nobody knew. Nobody asked. It was better to keep ignorant in case one the warden got wise.

Rory had not even left the booth when an arm snaked around her waist from behind. "Where you goin', Dollface?" A husky voice reverberated near her ear, the foul breath of a man washing over the side of her face. Rory's nose scrunched at the scent, recognizing the all-too-familiar voice of the guard who had been watching her like a hawk when the male prisoners had burst through the doors. Sadly, this was not the first time Rory had been hounded by the warden's filthy dogs. When their master was not watching, they tended to get a little rowdy and out of control with nobody to rope them in by a leash when things got out of hand. It was only natural for the guards that were on duty to join in the mingling of the prisoners, the communal atmosphere encouraging them to join in the fun, and more often than not they preyed on any hot piece of *ss they could find. This time her captor brought a friend to watch.

Rory made no attempt to move. She showed no emotion or gave them any inkling of an expression to provoke them any further. That was the best resistance she could muster at the moment. "What? You gonna ignore me now?" The guard pouted, his free hand forcibly grabbing her chin to make her look at him. Still, she refused to say anything. He pushed her back against the edge of the table, trapping her like a cat and his mouse. His green eyes darted to the empty glass. "Nothing again, huh? Why won't you eat, sweetheart?" He asked with a smug grin. Clearly he had been watching Rory whenever it was his shift. Who knew how long he had been planning to harass her when the opportunity arose. "You're way too skinny to be starving yourself. What man wants to play with a walking skeleton? Hey, Sebastion, feel how tiny this girl is". His friend gladly accepted the invitation and gave her a pinch on the *ss, making her jump towards the green-eyed guard. "Look at you. Can't keep yourself away from me. Well, who am I to deny a pretty girl's advances?"

His hand slithered up her spine to grab a hand full of her bleach-blonde hair, jerking her head back to reveal her porcelain neck. Tears spilled from the corners of Rory's eyes from the pain, streaming down her face. She was not upset in the least. Tough girls did not cry. Her tears were merely a natural reaction from the pain. In fact, her face contorted painfully for a mere second before she reverted back to an expression devoid of feeling, the pain already numbing. She had been through all this before and did not let any of the abuse phase her. She was a hardened criminal, not a fragile damsel in distress waiting for someone to come save her. If anything, her past taught her that she was on her own and not to expect any handouts or generosity from strangers who had nothing to gain from helping her.

The rest of the cafeteria pretended not to notice what was happening. They continued to chat and drink and mind their own business, letting the guards do as they pleased and avoiding getting involved at all costs. That was how things worked in Sanctum. The green-eyed guard licked his lips, his other hand grabbing her wrist in case she clashed with him, while his friend began to unbutton her jacket.

That is when Rory felt a sudden zing of frustration. D*mn guards getting braver. She could handle a groping, a few perverted words, even a couple inappropriate slaps that would leave a bruise or two, but it is going to be a cold day in h*ll if they think they are going to completely dominate her. "Get off me!" she snarled, spitting in the face of the green-eyed guard. Shocked, the guard stumbled back with a fierce growl, hand coming up to wipe the spit from his skin. "You b*tch!" he spat, temporarily letting go of her. Taking the chance to get the upper hand, Rory swiftly dodged a flying punch from the guard's friend, coming back up to elbow him hard in the ribs. He groaned heavily in pain, taking another swing at her and missing a second time. Rory grabbed his arm and twisted it, her knee shooting up like a bullet to pound into his stomach. He cried out, clenching his teeth as he doubled over.

But Rory was not in the clear yet. Her green-eyed captor hurled himself at her with a club in hand from behind, successfully hitting her in the arm while she was caught off guard. A jolt of pain ran up her arm. Biting her lip, she dodged another swing to the best of her abilities and managed to knock the club out of his hand with a kick. Enraged, the guard charged after her a second time. He was blinded by fury that he did not even realize that he was open for a special kind of attack. With wicked grin, Rory's leg swung up as he neared, fitting in between his legs like a rod. She felt a pop around her ankle from the kick and sneered menacingly as her gaze watched him topple over, his pretty green eyes rolling back inside his head. He hit the ground a thump and a loud groan, unable to get back up.

Rory exhaled, finally noticing the silence that followed her battle. The whole of the cafeteria had dropped every iota of conversation so they could watch the situation unfold with great interest. A few pairs of eyes glinted complacently, obviously having enjoyed the guards getting beat to a pulp. Nobody in Sanctum liked Authority and found it highly pleasing when one of the warden's goons got pommeled for being high-handed. It was the best entertainment that the prisoners got to watch outside the everyday drama they experienced themselves. Going back to having a good time, Rory was left to run a single hand through her hair, her breaths growing even.

There were cameras everywhere so eventually the warden would find out about this little incident. What would they do to her? Probably nothing. Mr. Marshall overlooked many of the accidents that involved his guards when they were overstepping boundaries. The worst that could happen would be a lecture from the sharp-as-a-tack man himself. That did not worry her. Taking out a cigarette from her pocket and her lucky zebra print lighter, she lit the end of the white stick, letting it smolder. "I'm sorry, fellas, did that hurt?" she snickered, squatting down. Taking a few puffs of the cigarette, she pressed the burning tip into the side of the green-eyed guard's face. He howled in pain, body writhing. "Oops. My bad. God, I'm such a klutz". Standing back up, she flicked the cigarette at him with a hard glare. "You fellas have a nice day". And with that, she left them.

Since she could not go back to her table with those two squalling like infants near the booth, she was forced to wander the cafeteria to search for a new spot.

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[justify]Funny how much prison was like high school. Rory dropped out around junior year, hence her being left without a high school diploma, but the concept was still familiar. Everyone had their own clique they pledged their allegiance too and every clique had a theme. It was more prominent in Sanctum, since people of all shapes, sizes, ages, and colors attended here against their will. You had the Meatheads, a group of muscly, dim-witted, weight freaks that walked around the building as the products of overused steroids, the Gang, a group of colored specific members that only functioned in a group with one brain as the leader, the cheer squad, a group of big-boobed, bad-attitude, spoiled brats that were the epitome bi-polar behavior, and of course other such groups that were not worth mentioning.

Basically, it was going to be tough to find a new seat. Not only was the acceptance of a group a factor, but also tolerance on Rory's part. Three quarters of the scum that roamed Sanctum were people Rory would rather not affiliate herself with, mostly because a majority of them were not worth her time. She was not interested in friendship, the mere mention of the word putting a bad taste in her mouth, or a fling with some haughty player who thinks he is big enough to handle her. Not a chance. She was interested in one thing and one thing only. Freedom.

Reaching up to button her jacket, it was of no surprise to her when someone decided to prevent her even further from relaxing. What did shock her was that she was face-to-face with Sharkbait, the very devil who has been climbing his way up to the top of Sanctum's hierarchy. She briefly wondered what exactly he was up to, maybe wanting a piece of action after seeing the way she dealt with those guards, but it did not matter. She was still extremely p*ssed off and would not hesitate to take him down, even if he did make a name for himself in this pit of ever present misery.

She felt something cold press into her hand before she could make a move. It can't be... she thought, eyes narrowing. She grabbed the bottle, feeling its curves just to make sure it was exactly what she had been craving for. Booze...no way. Then he spoke. His accent was hard on the ears, rough and gravelly and so utterly hard to understand that Rory could only make out the word "drink". "Don't mind if I do", she muttered. How long had it been since she had the sweet, sweet taste of alcohol? She could not remember. It was the same outside of Sanctum as it was inside. She was a drinker and society did not like it, so it starved her like a calf without milk.

Her eyes darted frantically around the cafeteria. Rory had been here long enough to know who were the snitches and so far, they were too preoccupied doing their own thing to notice her with a bottle of booze. Popping off the cork with her teeth, she pressed the opening to her lips, letting the liquid invade her mouth. She used to be quite a skilled drinker, able to hold her alcohol like a pro, but the absence of the intoxicating fermented drink had left her desperate from the burning sensation that declared war on her throat. Easing into a seat just across from Sharkbait, she gulped down the booze until her heart was content. By the time she had had her fill, the bottle was almost empty. Not even a quarter was left.

With hands shaking, Rory placed the bottle on the table, leaning over for a breather. Her grip tightened at the base, but eventually relaxed as the tension left her body. All the negative emotions swirling in the pit of her stomach were drowned and after a short while she sat up again, cheeks flushed.

She turned towards her new "friend", staring intently at his silent figure. While he watched other prisoners waste their time, she studied him, calculating his potential. Obviously he wanted something from her. In Sanctum, there was no such thing as free gifts. Everything had a price, a value. He had a reason for giving her that bottle of heaven. What exactly was he playing at and what did he want from her? It could be a number of things, but rather than think of the many reasons and possibilities, she was more interested in his usefulness.

"Got a name?" She murmured, keeping any conversation that passed between them low. Her gaze switched from him to a couple of beastly women at the bar, pestering the bartender who looked awfully uncomfortable being the center of their attention. For all she knew, Russian boy might not even answer her. He did not have to, but she will keep talking until she can get something out of him. Lunch did not last long and wasting time that could be used in her favor was out of the question.
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[justify]As far back as Rory could remember, she made an educated guess that Sanctum was the seventh prison she had been thrown in since she turned the ripe age of fifteen. Granted, at least half of them were juvenile halls trying to squash that bad attitude of hers, but to no avail. Jerked around from place to place, making a temporary title for herself with every new set of scumbags anxious to get a piece of her, she never had the time to think of an escape plan. Back then it would have been an impossible task. Despite the obvious holes in any plan she was able to concoct, it did not restrict her from craving freedom.

But then again, every caged bird thought of freedom. They wanted to feel it, taste it, breath it; a wish that was not often fulfilled for people like Rory. She was a tainted and used-up sinner whose fate was sealed long ago. Her place was behind steel bars where she could be constantly monitored, constantly controlled. They had plucked her wings free of any feathers so flying was rendered hopeless, sucking the very essence out of her that made her Rory. Everything was taken away from her the day she was caught. The reality of it was that she had already lost the everything she thought she had before her sentence.

What this man across from her passively offered went against all that. He was giving her a chance to flee a future that was not worth living and take back the everyday excitement she felt surviving on her own. Images of her parents flashed in her mind. The very b*stards that disowned her after finding out about all her felonies. Then she remembered her brother and sister's faces when they appeared in court during one of Rory's more severe trials. Disgusted. Abhorred. Revolted at what she had become. Her fists clenched. But Rory had, in her own strange way, liked what she had become. If she could escape, she could confront the monsters that haunted her past and finally resolve the issues that locked her away in the first place.

Rory stared into Sharkbait's two pools of raw obsidian. It was like being sucked into a dark abyss a weak heart would fail to escape, but not her. The eyes were a window to the soul, a line and old friend of hers used to preach. This cliché of a Russian mobster's goon had a pair that were unpredictable, and yet impressively expressive. He was quick to the point and honest, for now. There was no harm to trust him, at the moment. After all, men like him were easily disposable.

Lifting on of her legs over the other, elbow on the table while her cheek rested on her palm, she grinned at him. "Quite the smooth talker, aren't ya?" She teased dangerously, the thought of an all out master plan to successfully break out of Sanctum too risky to mention aloud. At least her new accomplice was smart enough not to squeal like a blabber mouth. Talk of such things was punishable crime in Sanctum and one not taken lightly. She leaned forward in a way that would convince outsiders she was flirting. "I don't come cheap, Zekiel", she hissed through her teeth, the seriousness of the situation evident. He needed to be fully prepared for every possible outcome, end of story. The point of her heel clacked on the floor. "I'm gonna need a little compensation in case something goes wrong". Besides the alcohol. Her cooperation came with a price.

Being close to him awakened a sense of euphoria within her. He still had it, on his skin, on his clothes, the fresh scent of the outside world. It tormented her, calling her. "I might be willing to help", she continued smoothly, taking one of the empty glasses on the table and pouring in it the last of the booze. "But I don't need a cringing p*ssy tailing me like a lost puppy when the going gets tough". Her voice shot down an octave, her expression still placid. They would be going in deep and the last thing she wanted was to babysit this guy or be abandoned at the last minute. No f*cking way.

The ticking of the clock on the far side of the wall reminded her of what little time they had left. She also heard the twin doors open to reveal a gang of new guards. No doubt here to escort their squalling sh*thead buddies to the infirmary and take over the watch. It was only a matter of time before she would be taken away as well.[/justify]

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[justify]Rory did not know a lick of Russian, but was catching onto Sharkbait's silent treatment. It could work in their favor, that is, if she decided to get involved. It would be so painstakingly easy to reveal him and his motives to the warden, let him take the fall for their forbidden conversation, and continue prison life as a newly born snitch. It would definitely send her reputation into the trash and no doubt will be inviting enemies to come a knockin' on her door. It would be a low blow. lucky for Sharkbait, Rory hated Sanctum and its leaders with a fiery passion that overwhelmed any common sense to get in good with the warden and shorten her sentence here.

As the new guards made their rounds, chasing anything in a short skirt, Rory was left with only a select number of minutes before they got to her. Whatever needed to be said needed to be said quick. "Don't compare me to someone of your level", she warned in a whisper, the frustration in her tone evident. She did not give a d*mn who he was in Sanctum or who he had been outside this h*ll, she was not like him. She was not like anybody in this god forsaken place.

The tension in the cafeteria worsened as the guards grew ever closer. The sensual gasps of women being touched, the few grunts from the others struggling not to start anymore fights with the perverts that gave them a few squeezes and pinches, rang in her ears. It made Rory sick just to listen. Just another day being under the warden's mercy and taking whatever treatment they could scrounge up from Marshall's sexually active guards. It was almost Rory's turn.

A layer of goosebumps covered her skin and she broke out into a cold sweat. "Listen and listen good, because I will only tell you once", she muttered close to him, moving her chair to a distinct angel where the conversation could only be seen and heard privately for what little time they had. "Work, playground, leisure, lunch, cell. Got it?" It was rushed, but that was the short schedule Sanctum's prisoners lived by. Only on rare occasions did things change. After that annoying lunch bell rang on the intercom, the sound that lunch was over, it was time for prisoners to go back to their cells.

Another privilege here that other prisons lacked was the privacy. Each cell had its own thin, tattered curtain to shield the prisoners from the prying eyes of their mates. It was repulsive how accommodating this place could be in a pathetic effort to hide all its dirty secrets. Sanctum had plenty.

Sanctum was big enough that prisoners did not need to share cells and considering it was co-ed, it was highly discouraged and frowned upon. But allowing prisoners to pair up during the nights was a method that would keep riots from breaking out. The dirtbags here were all animals, living on pure instinct. Eat, drink, sleep, fornicate, in that order. Man or woman. Without fulfilled desires the prison became irritatingly out of hand and that is when the warden were none too pleased to whip their subjects back into submission. It was a last resort for them that they preferred to avoid; a hassle that disrupted their habit of slacking off on duty. So, Sanctum would tend to overlook the rules when it got down to it.

An obnoxious ring sounded on the intercom. It repeated five times before dissolving into nothingness. "Alright!' Shouted one of the more hefty guards. "Lunch is over! Get back to your cells! Go on!" Like sheepdogs, him and his buddies herded the prisoners towards the doors, itching to get the bar all to themselves. It was no secret they liked to drink as much as their prisoners did. Rory's seat was bumped twice before she decided to stand. She was still staring at Zekial, ready to put in a last word when she was interrupted by one of the guards, a beer in his left hand.

"I know you", he sneered, shoving her towards the door with everyone else. "You're the one that kicked Dean and Darryl's *sses". His laughs were loud and throaty, ending in a violent eruption of coughs. "Alright, b*tch, i'm sure Marshall is gonna want to have a nice long chat with you in the morning". He gave her butt a hard slap before glancing in Zekial's direction. He said nothing, but gave him a glare that suggested he followed the rest of his herd unless he wanted trouble. [/justify]

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Ezmeralda silently laughed with a hand raised to her lips. How funny of him to almost fall because of her presence and how perceptive he was for his ability to sense her nearby. At first glance she assumed him mortal, but his aura was not that of a mere human. No, Ezmeralda could just tell that he was anything but. Perhaps some sort of immortal, but what would one be doing on her island?

She cautiously kept behind the shrubs though she knew she could be seen. This man could prove dangerous. Most likely not as venemous as her. It was not only for her sake that she kept her distance. Calypso, her dear mother, had warned her about confrontation. She had made clear rules for Ezmeralada to follow in case her island was compromised, but at the moment she could not remember a single one of them.

Her eyes, however, did not stray from his curious form.[/justify]

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[justify]Well, I am not sure what you would consider mine, but I would prefer a bit more advanced. The posts could possibly grow shorter if I have low muse. You are welcome to post a form, but it is not required. A simple picture, name, and jumping in would do just fine -[/justify]

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[justify]Jaws dropped one-by-one in almost complete unison. A countless number of eyes followed the boy as he stalked back to his dressing room, none as wide and shocked as little Danika's. The intensity of the moment had left her in utter confusion, her bouquet falling to the floor and head tilted to the side.

A few meters away, the director was throwing a tantrum. His crew struggled to calm him down, everyone unable to comprehend just exactly what had happened on set. It raised the question as to why the young actor had agreed to play the part on the show if he was going to bail so close to completing the season. What everyone did not know was that he was not told who he would be smooching.

"This is an outrage!" Danika heard her mother snarl. She usually did when things did not go according to plan. "We have a photo shoot in less than two hours! We cannot afford to-" The little actress drowned out the sound of her mother's wailing and hopped off the stage, intending to pursue the little punk who refused to kiss her. One kiss. Just one! And he couldn't even do that? Who did he think he was denying her incoming fame and being so rude to her? Stomping over to his changing room, she beat loudly on the door.

"Hey!" she yelled, hands resting on her hips. "Excuse me, but I think you owe me an apology!" Her nose scrunched and her red cheeks puffed out in frustration. They could always get some other actor to play Levi, which would solve things, but they had already invested too much into this one actor who had already been advertised as playing the role. A change of plans would not go over well with the public and precious money and publicity would be lost. "Hey, I know you can hear me! Come out and kiss me right now or else! You'll be sorry! My Mom is a lawyer!"[/justify]

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[justify]"Everyone already has", Danika spat, face contorting into a mixed mess of smugness and frustration. She had never experienced such a stressful situation with anybody, including boys. "Everyone except you. Even my own parents would bow down and kiss my feet if I wanted them to. That is how popular I am, not that I would expect someone like you to know what that kind of fame feels like". He was right. Her mother could file a case, but it would be useless. Suing a young boy for refusing to kiss a little girl would be a waste of time to the court. Danny would just have to sort this problem out on her own. "And I am not going to apologize just because some stuck-up, high-and-mighty, rude and stupid little boy decided he was going to act like a jerk and quit the show over a peck on the lips. Low lives like you should be honored to kiss someone as glamorous and beloved as me". At first Danny had thought he was one of the cutest boys she had seen yet. Now that he soured that opinion, she clearly saw how unattractive he was on the inside. How poor he made himself look. Her eyes peered behind him to glance into his changing room. [/justify]

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[justify]- Creating Dinosaurs
- Raising, taming, and riding dinosaurs
- Becoming the world's biggest and greatest tourist attraction
- Being the only prehistoric wildlife sanctuary on Earth
- Introducing a new way of life involving dinosaurs[/justify]

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[justify]- Maxine
- Adrien
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[justify]- Spike
- Scarlette
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