Newbie
Group: Roleplayer
Posts: 9
Member No.: 19
Joined: 19-August 07
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Name: Kit Winterstone
Experience: 4+ years of roleplaying, 6+ years of writing
Method: Forum only. If it's to be a private roleplay, PMs will suffice. IMs if prior plotting is needed.
Frequency: Two posts a day. Occasionally more depending on my schedule.
Limits
Rating: R
Squick: Sexual scenes ( implied sex is alright, but I don't want to actually have to write out anything more than "They went to bed together" ). Naturally, rape, incest and anything sexually oriented is out.
Orientation: Straight.
Gender: Both.
Pet Peeves: First and foremost, spelling and grammar. Apart from that, I'm very particular about post length, I don't want to only have one paragraph to work with, and neither do I want to have to read walls of text. About 600-1000 words per post is sufficient. Personal fantasies, I have an aversion to those who insist on bringing their own personal fantasies into the roleplay, it kills it. Stalkers. OOC notes mixed into the roleplay.
Genres
Will: Anything original.
Might: Cliche'd scenes.
Won’t: Fandoms.
Other: - none at the moment -
Examples
Example 1:
"Um, feel free to take anything you need." Tamia said as she left the room, closing the door behind her in haste. Kit drew a deep breath and sighed, the day was going to be a long one indeed. He felt a little awkward, being alone in Tamia's room. Sunlight warmed his pale skin as he turned back to the window, looking again over the courtyard. The four newcomers were now accompanied by Ikkin and a redhead Kit recognised as Kat's attendant. A mage's attendant, two knights (once Tamia arrived) and a phoenix; by all rights that should be enough to handle the four newcomers if they proved to be of any trouble.
Kit took a step away from the window, there were other matters he needed to see to; the other knights could deal with this one.
The cold stone walls seemed to stare at him as he closed the door to Tamia's room behind him. He debated using a harmless demonic seal to lock Tamia's door for her, but decided that with her cat it would be too risky. Besides, there was no reason for him to suspect that anyone would try to gain access to her room.
He stood outside her door for some time, debating his next course of action. There was the matter of his clairvoyant flashes. It was unusual for him to receive two powerful clairvoyant flashes in such a short time frame, and it all pointed to Maya. Then there was the matter of his appointment as the Royal Arbiter by Wolf. As far as he was concerned, he would have preferred it if he hadn't been assigned any duties, but he was in no position to argue with the king's decision. He wondered how far this new change would affect his demonologic practices. Already people were talking about Wolf having a demonologist on his council, it wouldn't help if they knew the exact details of Kit's practices.
Kit shook his head, why couldn't he have chosen to become a druid, or at least something not as dark instead?
The silence of the corridors wrapped Kit in a veil of solitude as he made his way back to his room. He had deliberately chosen a longer route which would take him around the more frequented areas, he didn't wish to see anyone at this time.
The corridors soon gave way to the sparse, empty halls of the castle's left wing. Unlike the right wing, this section of the castle had very few windows, most of the corridors here were either lit by torchlight, or more frequently, left dark.
Kit's quarters was deep within the left wing of the castle. The only other knight whose quarters were located here was Shade's, most of the others preferred the brighter areas of the castle. The door to Kit's quarters was a simple oaken one which would open easily with a gentle push. A series of demonic seals prevented anyone else from opening the door, and if needed, to neutralise any threat.
He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he wanted to see what was inside. His clairvoyant flash had shown him a strange demonic pattern, one which was not known to him, and Maya.
Maya.
Kit pushed the door open, the well-oiled hinges moving without a creak.
Nothing.
No demonic pattern.
No Maya.
Instead, he was greeted by the soft, silvery flame of the magnesium candle which he used for light. He stepped into the cold, stale air of his room, realising how much different it was from the fresh, sunny appearance of Tamia's room. A shiver ran down his spine, the room that he stood in.. it felt impersonal. It always had. It always will. There was nothing to be gained my attaching any sentimental value in objects, or so Kristen had told him.
He walked over to the large table on the opposite side of the room. It was the only form of furniture along with a single chair and the bed which he slept on. Kristen had taught Kit the value of simplicity, or rather, the necessity for it. There was no use in having an elaborate room, if one was going to perform rituals which would tear it apart in an instant. And even more important, Kristen had told him not to feel comfortable wherever he decided to sleep. Comfort only made one drop their guard, not a wise thing to do when dealing with the demonic kind which could choose to appear at any moment.
He took a large tome, within which was recorded the various demonic patterns and chants he used. Perhaps he didn't recognize the demonic pattern in the flash, but he knew ways to find out the origin and usage of such a pattern.
He took out a paintbrush and dipped it in a flask of blood. Gently, he began to draw a simple demonic pattern on the stone floor of his room. When he was done, he laid his cards in a circle around it and sat cross-legged in the middle of the circle. Closing his eyes, he slipped into a meditative state.
"Wisest Ashtaroth, please send your guidance and your wisdom lend. Help me read with clarity and speak the truth; crone of wisdom and dark skies, Let the shapes materialize. Show me clearly what’s to come. As I will, So let it be."
Softly, Kit repeated the chant, the words floating in the air as he slipped deep into his clairvoyance.
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Example 2:
Every member of the resistance was trained to fight, regardless of whatever their primary role was. As so, Kit wasn't surprised when Crystal held her hand out, asking for a weapon. Besides the plasma torch on him, Kit had managed to salvage a needle gun, one of the few effective weapons against the Mythics. They had learned quickly that conventional laser and plasma weaponry were for the most part ineffective against the Mythics. Most humans resorted to older kinetic weapons, like the needle gun, when it came to a fight. Without thinking twice, he handed over the lightweight, blue weapon over to Crystal, motioning for her to watch their rear as they made their way out.
Their flight was a swift one. Kit moved through the corridors as quickly as he could, stopping only to allow the other prisoners to catch up. With each pause he made, he looked down the corridors behind them, listening for the telltale clicks of clawed feet on the obsidian floor that told them how close their pursuers were.
Close. Their pursuers were closing in rapidly on them. Kit listened to the clicks, one could tell how far away their pursuers were by the sound of the clicks. The further the pursuers were, the more each click vibrated, having been reflected off the obsidian walls repeatedly. Right now, the clicks were coming through clearly, not a good sign. Close as the exit was, getting out of the building did not guarantee their safety. The outside world was just as hostile as the inside of the building, and Kit would rather face those dangers without having to look behind them for pursuers.
Kit's worries about pursuers were quickly overridden when their flight was brought to an abrupt halt, the solid click-thump of a Mythic's footstep coming down the corridor. He didn't need to tell the group to stop, the four prisoners had frozen in fear and Crystal already had her weapon in hand. A long moment of silence followed, the lone Mythic stopping and waiting for them to walk right into her deadly spines, and Kit thinking of some way past.
Click.
The single female Mythic stepped out of the darkness, her pale figure slightly taller than Kit. Sleek obsidian plates protected her body, made from the same material as the farm. Spines protruded from her arms and legs; sharp and bone-like, the spines proved as effective a weapon as any melee weapon in human history. In reply, Kit took out the only other weapon he had, the plasma torch.
The female Mythic laughed at the sight of Kit's weapon, sending a chilling shiver down the spines of the four human females, with good reason too. The plasma torch was hardly an effective weapon, at best it could be used as a makeshift club. Still, the Mythic had failed to notice the needle gun in Crystal's hand, and perhaps if Kit could get her into Crystal's line of fire-
The next thing Kit saw was obsidian stained with his blood, a male Mythic having thrown a projectile at Kit from behind the female. In reply, Kit threw his plasma torch at the Male, catching him squarely in the eye, sending him howling in pain. Still, Kit could only watch in vain as the female mythic stepped past him and grabbed the nearest female prisoner, disembowelling her in front of the others.
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