NuttsnBolts

How do you typically deal with Writer's Block?

Usually a song, anime or movie helps me. Not all the time mind you, but as an example I am talking to some friends about a reboot and at the same time I came across a song which fits the RP. It's gotten me into the mood and kicked over a few of those creative gears.

Scare Me With Your Experiences

A 1x1 where the other player must have had a broken shift and period key cause apparently writing a single sentence for a multi paragraph RP is a thing.

Might I also add that this person managed to get my character's name wrong... No not a misspelling... My character was, let's say, "Steve", and they called him "Phillip". Like how the fuck does that even happen? Did you even read anything about my characters and the RP?

NuttsnBolts: Characters of Interest

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^{ｆｅｍａｌｅ ✦ ｔｈｉｒｔｙ ｏｎｅ ✦ ｂ-ｎｅｇａｔｉｖｅ}

_{Ｍ Ｕ Ｔ Ａ Ｔ Ｉ Ｏ Ｎ Ｓ}

✦ Enhanced Strength and Reaction Time

The muscles in Cerridwen's body have grown in a way that grants her the strength of a man double her size, and the speed of a trained athlete. The difficulty in this mutation is that her appetite has increased and prolonged exertion of her abilities can tire her out, forcing her to rest more often than normal.

✦ Tough Hide

As the virus slowly takes over her body it has started to leave a series of dark marks, some of which have hardened into calluses. While these calluses do not act like a natural body armour, they do present the occasional some resistance to any slash like attacks.

✦ Razor Sharp Claws and Teeth

The nails on Cerridwen's hands and feet have grown into a series of sharp, hardened talons while her teeth have also gone the process of being replaced with a set of razor-edged canines. They both have the ability to slash and tear through skin, clothing and even hard leather.

✦ A Long, Vigorous Tail

A peculiar mutation, but one with several advantages is the long tail that has grown from the base Cerridwen's spine. This bodily extension has improved her balance and manoeuvrability much like that of a typical animal, while also allowing her to control it like an extra limb. It holds enough strength to be used as a blunt force weapon, while it's sharp spines can leave deep cuts on those who have been unlucky enough to make contact wih it.

_{Ａ Ｐ Ｐ Ｅ Ａ Ｒ Ａ Ｎ Ｃ Ｅ}

_{Witness' sketch of Cerridwen
Cerridwen's facial changes
Cerridwen's Tail}

With long black hair, a thick set of defining eyebrows and a face that can intimidate those around her, Cerridwen was a woman who can resonate authority and submission with a simple look into your very soul. She doesn't have a keen sense of style and instead opts for the more casual look with leather jackets, boots and an old pair of jeans. As the virus eventually began to take over her body, it started to shift, alter and change her appearance into something that resembles more of an animal than human being.

Her skin began to form lesions, blistering into black sores that hardened into calluses; her fingertips slowly turned into beast-like claws as the nails have begun to grow out into long, curved talons; while her bones have started to calcify, causing her hands and feet to mutate, grow, and increase in size and density. The two most unusual of changes are both her spine, to which it has begun to extrude out of the skin on her back and grow into a long, muscular tail, and her teeth, that are slowly falling out to eventually be replaced by a set of long, flesh tearing canines.

_{Ｐ Ｅ Ｒ Ｓ Ｏ Ｎ Ａ Ｌ Ｉ Ｔ Ｙ}

Cerridwen can be considered quite a smart individual with personality traits that are are both observant and cunning in nature. During her time in the precinct she was noted to be forceful, dominating and self-confident; attributes that helped accelerate her difficult and demanding career. She was not afraid to push the rules and boundaries and enjoyed seeing justice be served to those who committed any wrongdoings... At least this was how the public viewed her.

Magnify those traits and pay close intention to her inner most desires and you will soon realise that Cerridwen holds a deeper, darker secret. Her hobby is homicide, her skills are in the kills, and she has a craving for watching people suffering time and time again. Borderline psychopath, a nightmare in the making, Cerridwen is a monster down to her very core.

The heart breaking part of all this is that she once had a softer, more compassionate side for others. As a young woman she was loving, caring and playful, but something happened during those years and her mind broke, leaving people to wonder what her true intentions were for joining the police force in the first place.

_{Ｂ Ｉ Ｏ Ｇ Ｒ Ａ Ｐ Ｈ Ｙ}

_{Six Months Prior to the Outbreak}

The room was shrouded in darkness, even with the knee to ceiling window that occupied one of the facing walls. There was a reason for this absence of light and it all had to do with that special coating on the glass surface; a mirror finish that allowed any individual to view directly through the surface without the risk of being seen from the other side. One of these occupants wearily leaned over and place his finger on a rather large trigger button, pushing it down before directing his voice into the microphone piece hanging before his face.

"Can prisoner one-five-five-eight-dash-jay please step through and into the examination room?" The voice acoustically echoed into the brightly lit chamber that laid on the opposite side of the glass. With a silence shattering click the handle of the door snapped opened to allow a certain inmate to enter. Heavy chains rattled around her ankles, her feet shuffled along the tiled floor, all while she was cautiously escorted in by two faceless guards towards a steel chair. They pushed her down into the seat, shackling the cuff chains to the eyebolts on the floor as to prevent her from moving about of her own free will.

"She looks rather familiar, where do I know her from?" one of the younger observers spoke out, curious as to how he recognised the cold expression of the criminal that sat a few meters away from him. His young inquisitiveness drew him closer to the glass, begging him to place his face and hand against its surface so that he could get a closer look at the female.

"Cadet," the examiner opened his mouth as he turned his aged, burly face towards the youngster. The trainee returned the look as the examiner once again pressed the button and expressed his commands down the intercom line, "Will the convicted state their full name."

Silence fell long enough to almost warrant a repeat of the request before the feminine voice responded coldly to the examiner's demands, "Cerridwen, Lankerfield."

"No way? You are telling me that that is Detective Lankerfield?" By this point the cadet had turned his full attention to the other observers, one of them being the Bronx District Attorney, Miss Harper. The DA was currently enjoying the soothing aroma of a two dollar cup of coffee when she gently pulled the beverage away from her lips in order to respond to his query.

"Yes, the woman sitting there before you is former Detective Cerridwen Lankerfield," Miss Harper began as she leaned into her briefcase in order to pull out a thick, heavy case file. Reaching out, she handed it over to the cadet who seemed quite eager to see the confidential information that was contained inside. "What you have there in your hands is four years of hard work; and many, many mistaken arrest. Evidence tampering, forced confessions, and even a miscarriage of justice; all performed by her to cover her own acts of crime, the multiple homicide of case victims."

The cadet looked up as the DA, slightly bewildered with what she was saying. "So she targeted the actual victims themselves?" He flipped to one of the pages, "That means Michael White here was murdered because he was the sole survivor of an armed robbery and—" quickly the rookie flipped to the next page, "—Vicky Walker was killed because she was a rape victim?"

"Hard to believe, but you are correct. At first we thought they were simply revenge killings, but as time went on we soon realised that it was an internal job since much of the evidence presented at court didn't quite match that which was discovered at the crime scenes; and so we fabricated a case in order to entrap our unsub," Miss Harper took a short sip of her coffee, "Lo and behold it came as a shock to many when Miss Lankerfield here was the one that we had to place the cuffs on."

The cadet turned back to the front page and decided to read through Cerridwen's personal details, muttering out loud some of the findings. "Orphaned at 8... Grew up in a foster home til the age of 18... Graduated NWPD Police Academy at 21, top of the class... Promoted to detective at 25." He felt like he had read enough and closed the document folder, turning his gaze back at the woman in the room. "I just don't understand. How can such a valuable member of the force fall from grace so willingly?"

The DA walked over towards the glass, standing between the cadet and examiner, "It's best not to think about it," she reluctantly whispered, looking at the criminal beyond the glass. She could faintly see the smile on the woman's face, a slight grin hidden behind a mess of long hair. "Let's just hope that it's a long time before she has the opportunity to ever walk free once more."

_{Ｅ Ｑ Ｕ Ｉ Ｐ Ｍ Ｅ Ｎ Ｔ}

✦ Police Issue Pistol

Not the weapon that she held while on the force, but one that she managed to acquire from a guard in the Riker's Island prison compound.

_{Ｐ Ｒ Ｏ Ｆ Ｉ Ｃ Ｉ Ｅ Ｎ Ｃ Ｉ Ｅ Ｓ}

✦ Trained Enforcer

Years on the police force have taught Cerridwen well. She is a woman skilled in both hand to hand combat while educated in how to use a variety of firearms—most notably pistols and shotguns.

✦ Observant

Collecting crime scene evidence, and learning how to hide evidence of her own, have all been possible through Cerridwen's observant nature. She notices when things go amiss, she can spot the subtle changes and she has very well developed set problem solving skills.

✦ The Alpha Female

Cerridwen has a way to convince and manipulate those around her into doing her dirty bidding. She has a level of charisma and charm that meshes well with intimidation and fear. As a result she feels most comfortable when she is in control of a situation.

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✦ Running on Fumes

The mutations that have altered Cerridwen's body have drastically increased her strength but at the cost of making her prone to exhaustion, and increasing her metabolism to a level where she has to eat more often. Failing to conserve her energy and eat at regular intervals will drain her stamina levels to a point where she may feel tired, weak, but worse of all her natural regenerative abilities will shut down completely. This can pose as a major problem in a world where available food sources may be sparse leaving her to find anything that may be somewhat edible, even if that happens to be the human companion next to you.

✦ Prone to Injury

Cerridwen's sudden changes in muscle mass and bone structure have placed her at risk of easily injuring herself. Pulling a muscle, straining a tendon and even popping a joint out of place are all possibilities when she hasn't had the time to understand what these mutations are changing. By continuing to push herself Cerridwen can suffer some of the more severe problems of internal hemorrhaging and even organ failure.

✦ Not your Friendly Neighbour

The New Windsor news channels all kept very will up to date on the arrest, trial and conviction of Cerridwen Lankerfield, labelling her as "The Victimiser" killer. This reputation, the nature of her mental health, and her time within prison have gradually blurred the lines for what it was like to feel compassion, sympathy and even love. She is confused and conflicted about her own humanity, leaving with very few that she can trust.

_{Ｃ Ｏ Ｍ Ｐ Ａ Ｎ Ｉ Ｏ Ｎ Ｓ / Ｆ Ｒ Ｉ Ｅ Ｎ Ｄ Ｓ / Ｒ Ｅ Ｌ Ａ Ｔ Ｉ Ｏ Ｎ Ｓ}

(Unknown at this point)

Garden of Shadow (Horror, Human Mutations, and Monsters)

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^{✦ ｗｅｌｃｏｍｅ ｔｏ ｎｏｃｔｕｒｎｅ ｃｉｔｙ ✦}

Riot...

There was no other word that could ever describe the masses of people who had lost all sense of morality, who had lost all sense of logic, who had turned on each other like a pack of wild animals in a pit fight. Sights of lead pipes, chairs, and makeshift halberds could be seen swinging through the air as each weapon made contact with the closest threat, releasing an endless spray of lipstick red that tinted the once barren and stark-grey walls. With every lunge forward the humans screamed at the top of their lungs; bellowing for hope, salvation and endless death. It was however an effort of pure vanity for they would eventually come to realise that there was no escape from this endless nightmare, that they were currently locked within a prison of both metaphoric and literal value.

Riker Island Correctional Facility was New Windsor's answer to crime, a penitentiary on a remote rock with nothing more than a single pathway both in and out. Those who entered against their will, but through their own wrongdoings, were locked away in an array of concrete cells and iron cages. They were stripped of their daily desires only to enjoy the luxury of chains and shackles for the remainder of their allocated sentence. To the sane world this was a system that worked, that protected the public, but for the world of madness this was nothing more than a grind house film in the making.

The midnight horror screening began with the screams; gurgling, harrowing and vomit inducing. Those that were lucky enough to survive the shift into a feral they had to hope to whatever benevolent god they believed in that their own cell-mate carried their shared fate. For many though the chances of Russian roulette with a semi-automatic pistol would have had much better odds of survival as thousands of pure blooded humans were purged and massacred by the monsters once known as human. Those who were fortitude enough to live were left to precariously wander the hallways in the darkened shadows. They passed by each cage judging the animals inside to sort out the wild creatures from the rabid beasts, releasing the ones that would allow them to strengthen their numbers.

"You'd think solitary confinement would hold better odds than the shit hand we've been dealt with." The hushed voice of a man talking to his fellow party faintly reverberated through the chamber, a man that was displeased with his lack of findings so far. He turned towards the two that were accompanying him; an elderly inmate dressed in a mushroom coloured jumpsuit much like his own, and a young security officer with what was once a finely pressed uniform now tattered and haggard. With authority and direction the man motioned for pair of them to follow him in his own steps.

Together they ushered forward to the cumbersome, iron door that stood before them; a spyhole positioned at eye level for the once lively officers on hand to use for peering inside. The leader carefully placed his fingertips on the panel latch before a careful change in thought washed over his mind. Drawing his fingers together the man rapped his knuckles against the door and placed his ear closer to hear the response from the inside.

Silence.

"Hey, any fucker home? Answer me."

More silence.

A sly grin washed over his dry, oriental face as he reseeded away from the door in order to move on. "Heh... Asshole must be dead if he ain't answering to that."

"Silence is a choice, and I can choose whether I not I wish to respond to your half assed attempt at authority." The female voice was direct, cutting deeply into the testosterone filled leader.

A clenched fist slammed at the door as a bellowing reply spurted out in response, "Well fuck you, bitch! Maybe we'll just leave you here inste—"

"You want to leave me here? Locked up safely in my cell while you fools fend off the feral animals on your own? I agree, I can see that being a much better option..."

The young officer approached the man who at this point was furrowing his eyebrows, "Fáng, she's not worth your eff—"

Fáng's eyes glared into the boy, burrowing deep down into his innocent soul. "Open the damn door..." he promptly demanded as he lifted up his baton flash light and aimed the light towards the lock. Hesitantly the officer fumbled the keys into the opening, twisting and turning it until a heavy, audible click was heard. With a forceful push of the metal frame the hulking door rattled along it's guide rails until it landed against the rubber stops. Fáng lifted his torch and illuminated the inside of the room, holding onto it with a grip that would almost crush the frame like a tin can.

Scars and gouges lined the grey walls, the bed had been snapped into two, and strands of torn fabric littered the very floor. Cautiously Fáng took a single step forward, whipping the flash light around the room in order to see where the unknown voice originated from. He felt the pit of his stomach turn as his heart began change pace, but instead of listening to instinct he took another step forward, determined to prove his manliness. This time he listening intently to the sounds around him; the breathing, the movement—a light exhale and gentle thump from beside the entranceway. Mr Quan shifted his sights, leading the way with his source of illumination as the beam eventually found it's way to the source.

A thick, black tendril swayed it's way across the floor, lifting itself after every few movements before landing heavily back onto the cold surface. Sleek, smooth and glistening, it held a surface texture that could only be described as salamander like. Fáng's eyes followed the spines, tracing them towards the body and the one who was mutated beyond human. He saw the woman who he was originally speaking to; a blackened, calloused body shrouded in a prison suit that was hacked to pieces, exposing her body to those who dared to pry.

"You ugly piece of shit!" Not the best choice of words to come out of the Asian's mouth but his actions happened to speak louder as his hands raised above his head in order to issue a severe beat down. His efforts unfortunately were much too slow.

The woman had bounded from her position of recluse, shoulder barging the leader against the wall and forcing the wind to rapidly vacate his chest. The man desperately gasped for air as the grip he once held on the torch released, allowing the impromptu weapon to begin fall to the ground below. Fáng gazed into her golden left eye, seeing his own horrified expression reflecting back at him, a fear that escalated the longer he stared, a sight that would burn into his very memory. This was nothing like the ferals he had seen earlier, this person was something completely different.

A thunderous crack exploded into the room, catching the monster off guard as a splatter of blood erupted from her unprotected shoulder, covering Mr Quan's face in a red, viscous stain. It wasn't the first as two more booming gunshots punctured their way through the air and into the woman's torso, evermore adding to the crimson mural painted on Fáng's once clean body. As if on reply the creature grappled the scruff of the Asian's shirt and lifted him into the air, hurling him around and into the security officer outside—a man who was way to focused aiming down the pistol sights to notice what was truly going on between the two brawlers. The two human figures tumbled over each other, disorientated and disarmed. The third, who was engulfed in fear, was already in full sprint, abandoning his temporary comrades in exchange at a few extra hours of living.

She lurched over and wandered in a non-rhythmically toward the two knock outs. The pain that weaved it's way through her nerves was excruciating and unbearable and but compared to what she had suffered during her transformation, this was nothing but a scratch. Casually she leaned down and scooped up the discarded firearm with her open right hand, holding it within a series of growing talons like nails. With little effort she dropped the magazine out of the grip, and into her left, as she pressed the handgun to the back of the skull of the Asian. Her foot planted itself upon his back, allowing her to lower herself so that she could whisper into his ear.

"Did I not say that it would be safer to leave me locked away than allow me to venture out here with you?"

She pressed harder, waving her finger over the trigger, tempted to put the last bullet that sat in the chamber into the very head of the one that attacked her. It had been months since she felt the thrill of killing someone, seeing their fears come to life, seeing the lights leave their eyes.

"CERRIDWEN WAIT!!!"

The woman froze, casting her hungry sights over to the young officer. She watched as he twisted his body around, motioning with a downward wave for her cease her actions.

"Who the hell are you?" Cerridwen lifted the gun away from Fáng's skull, leaving the once cocky man to begin whimpering at how lucky he was to keep his worthless life. She began stalking over towards the boy, furious and eager for answers, "Tell me!?!"

Cerridwen's knee landed heavily on his chest, her raspy pants were an indicator that one of her lungs had been punctured by a round. She pulled the pistol towards his forehead and pressed it deep between the eyebrows. She watched happily as he gave a gulp and nervously opened his mouth to speak.

"K-Kacey... Kacey Wall. I was there during your screening into Riker Island." Kacey could see her stretching her neck, moving it in a way that rocked her head from side to side before looking back at the young cadet.

"What of it?" Cold and direct.

"I still don't believe that you're 'The Victimiser'," his words were fast, attempting to catch her off guard and sympathise with her, "You can't be, you were once an amazing detec—"

"Resorting to flattery, are we?" Cerridwen leaned closer, placing her left hand on the top of the gun, whispering yearningly into his virgin ears, "Keep that up and you just may turn... mee... ooon!"

With swiftness and precision the woman grabbed the slide, ejecting the bullet out of chamber just as she clicked the trigger. The hollow, empty firing sound resonated through the room leaving Kacey with a look on his face of pure, utter, fear. She had a smirk, accompanied by a silent laugh of gratification.

"Ohhh... Fuck! You should the look on your face! You thought I was gonna do it! You thought that I was gonna blow you away!" She chuckled lightly, making hand motions of something invisible exploding within her palms, just before she eventually calmed down to speak directly at Kacey in her original, cold tone. "Well I'm sorry, but you're just not my type."

Let's B!tch. I feel it's a healthy release for our roleplay annoyances 2.0

Realizing you gotta kick the rust and cobwebs out of the gears cause you haven't written an IC post in months. >_>

Garden of Shadow (Horror, Human Mutations, and Monsters)

@dreamingflowers That's ok, no rush. RP isn't gonna be going anywhere too fast. :)

@OppositionJ Sorry to hear, but if in the future you feel like joining in, you're more than welcome to make an app.

Do you prefer playing older or younger characters?

At least 18+. Playing younger, especially when I play mostly females, just feels a little weird to me. For the most part though, my characters are around the 25 to 30 age, but the last few have been above 30 by a year or two.

Guess that's a result of me being able to relate to them more than other age brackets.

Garden of Shadow (Horror, Human Mutations, and Monsters)

Just a role call cause we haven't heard from you two in a while. Still joining?
@Adora Bell@OppositionJ

Garden of Shadow (Horror, Human Mutations, and Monsters)

Very interested. I've got several ideas in mind, now to just get it all down.

You guys also have a remarkably good taste in images. Did it take you long to find them?

@Necrophage

Most of the time I use Pinterest, mostly cause it'll also display similar images and filters out a lot of the garbage that Deviantart and Google contain.

In terms of time, not long. However I've got a collection of a few hundred to choose from for various rps.

Garden of Shadow (Horror, Human Mutations, and Monsters)

Just another awareness bump