JJ_Maxx said
Sipley has anger issues! Way to break the tavern even more. Soon we won't have any tavern to hang out in!
But of course, the ones who react irrationally are the most fun to write.
Apokalipse
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8 yrs ago
Mom is out of the hospital so I might actually have time to rp but we'll see
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8 yrs ago
'yo sis we need a thot slayer there's too many thots want to join the thot police we're recruiting'
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8 yrs ago
should I return?
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8 yrs ago
If that ain’t a college mood
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8 yrs ago
“Hullabaloo, and howdy doo! Musty prawns, and Timbucktu! Yeltsy-by, and hibbety-hoo! Kick ’em in the dishpan! Hoo hoo hoo!!”
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But of course, the ones who react irrationally are the most fun to write.
If anyone is wondering why Sipley is so hung up on being a "worthless princess" and proving herself, remember: her dad was a sexist pig who kicked her out for rebelling.
Sipley snarled at Aldred’s back; hah, his ice queen. A determination to be the most difficult swirled in her mind, but she wasn’t the vengeful type. Well, at least not the kind that could hold long grudges it was either payback now or never. The assassin received at least a little comfort from jabbing a lewd gesture while he sauntered away, armed to the teeth. How could someone walk around with so much weight? He was more metal than man.
“Next time I’ll leave you on the cold ground.” she mocked, standing up on steady legs. She half expected them to wobble but they remained sturdy.
After the brief condescension of Aldred, Sipley felt a little more uplifted until the new news were relayed: “The beasts are dead.”
The woman hefted a piece of rubble in her hand and hurled it at one of the only remaining walls to release pent up frustration. How weak! She should’ve at least killed one giant with her own hands! She was a failure! Unworthy of being a woman, that’s what she was. It wasn’t fair! How come everyone else got to prove their worth while she lay like a worthless princess? “Agh!”
Gritting her teeth, she stalked from the building and to the giant she almost climbed earlier. Easily finding her grapple hook amongst the dirt, she lifted it and looped the rope multiple times for easier managing. Next she found her rucksack where she collapsed, sliding it onto a shoulder blade and running a hand through her blood-crusted hair. She probably looked more of a man than a woman right now. She scowled, moving back to the damaged inn with thoughts of murder. An assassination job would be the only thing that could release the tension in her body.
“Next time I’ll leave you on the cold ground.” she mocked, standing up on steady legs. She half expected them to wobble but they remained sturdy.
After the brief condescension of Aldred, Sipley felt a little more uplifted until the new news were relayed: “The beasts are dead.”
The woman hefted a piece of rubble in her hand and hurled it at one of the only remaining walls to release pent up frustration. How weak! She should’ve at least killed one giant with her own hands! She was a failure! Unworthy of being a woman, that’s what she was. It wasn’t fair! How come everyone else got to prove their worth while she lay like a worthless princess? “Agh!”
Gritting her teeth, she stalked from the building and to the giant she almost climbed earlier. Easily finding her grapple hook amongst the dirt, she lifted it and looped the rope multiple times for easier managing. Next she found her rucksack where she collapsed, sliding it onto a shoulder blade and running a hand through her blood-crusted hair. She probably looked more of a man than a woman right now. She scowled, moving back to the damaged inn with thoughts of murder. An assassination job would be the only thing that could release the tension in her body.
The Roman07 said
lmafo I love Arsenics temper :) plus that guy deserved it, or at least some flegmmy eggs XD
Heh, heh. I love making people throw things out windows. (:< And y'know....poisoning and killing people with cyanide but that's a different side of me. And you would like that side of me. *Channels Hulk*
Ipsie said
Would there be still room for another? Another teenage character, perhaps?
Sure! ^_^
The twenty-four-seven café was moderately popular for university students to dine at; it was cheap and open at all hours of the night, after all. Howie’s Good Day was a plain eatery with red and brown decorating the joint to appear homely; white was avoided because it left certain aloofness in the customers. The café attempted to have an old-timey feel and a jukebox was placed in a corner, playing dreadful 60s music and the waitresses wore hideous muted yellow dresses with pinned metal nametags. One of the waitresses, Sylvia Szypowski, was just arriving for her shift.
Her platinum blonde hair, dyed to hide her real identity, was pulled into a low ponytail and her bangs brushed her forehead. If anywhere else, Arsenic, the name she has long since lost, would have been content with her bangs, but she was in Tampa, Florida and that meant excruciating humidity. Sweat slicked down her face and she was immeasurably glad for the air conditioning in the Good Day. Sighing under her breath, she tied the thrice bleached apron around her repulsive yellow dress and stabbed the ugly thing with her nametag. The café was in full swing at nine o’clock as all the students were flooding in, hoping to eat before college class began.
The day was going just fine for Arsenic. By ten o’clock she had earned twenty dollars in tips and everyone had been courteous enough. However, it just could not last for the ill-fated twenty-four year old.
“Waitress!” A young university student called her over, clicking his tongue like she was a dog. Arsenic felt the recognizable stirring of rage in her gut as she approached the brunet, a notepad in hand.
“Hi, I’m Sylvia.” said Arsenic, providing the expected affable greeting.
The smug little bastard just rolled his eyes and closed his menu with a snap. “Yeah, whatever. I want a black coffee and some eggs. A speck of salt on it and we’re gonna have problems. Now, shoo.”
She seethed, heading to the back and relaying the order. While waiting, she took deep breaths to unwind.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
“Hey, Cinnamon or whatever your name is, I want it pronto! I actually go to college and need to get there on time before I become a minimum wage employee like you.” The uncouth patron called superciliously.
Hocoam, the chef, glanced at the blonde with sympathetic eyes which just added fuel to her fire. Compassion was something she absolutely didn’t want. She was a trained killer, not some deprived girl who couldn’t handle a niggling client. “Here’s the coffee he ordered.”
Arsenic took it graciously, smiling tightly. “Don’t pity me. I don’t need it.” And with that she walked from the back.
Unbeknownst to her, Arsenic’s irritation had resulted in the throbbing pulse in her fingernails. Used to it, she ignored the familiar twinge and didn’t notice the cyanide seeping from underneath her fingernails, running over her pale flesh and slipping from them and into the black coffee.
“Here’s your goddamn coffee, asshole.” She spat vehemently. He threw back his head and tauntingly gulped the entire contents of the hot coffee before raising an eyebrow and glancing at her.
“I want to speak to your manager.”
Arsenic hissed, about ready to tell him where to shove it, when his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped forward in the booth. The Operative’s heart stopped and she stared down at her hands, only now feeling the dampness of poison flowing from them. Damnit. Attempting to manage her breathing, she ran from the room, glad no one has noticed his deadness. She entered a door that read ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY’, the only white thing in the café. The dressing room’s door was slightly ajar and she went through it cautiously. At the back of the dressing room was an exit door that many of the employees went out of for a smoking break. Arsenic shoved that door open and exited through the door, the hot Florida sun fluttering over her pale face. Shit, she did it again.
Arsenic had to leave; she had to leave as speedily as she could. She had enough money to buy a plane ticket to somewhere far away, an advantage of having an emergency fund for something of this sort. Her clothes were already packed and now all she had to do is throw her calico cats, Hemlock and Belladonna, into their cages.
“Tsk, kitties, come here.” She beckoned, bending over to stare under her bed and at the two pairs of lustrous green eyes. “Want a treat?”
With promises of goodies, the cats came out and she managed to wrangle them into their crates after feeding them a certain something for them to loosen up. Arsenic was all ready to go when her TV started to malfunction. Slamming her fist on it to get it to work, she missed the appearance of the man, but she heard him quite fine.
“This device I have, I'm sure you're familiar with its original. I believe they called it the Kill Switch Protocol."
In a fit of fury, Arsenic tossed her TV out the window.
Her platinum blonde hair, dyed to hide her real identity, was pulled into a low ponytail and her bangs brushed her forehead. If anywhere else, Arsenic, the name she has long since lost, would have been content with her bangs, but she was in Tampa, Florida and that meant excruciating humidity. Sweat slicked down her face and she was immeasurably glad for the air conditioning in the Good Day. Sighing under her breath, she tied the thrice bleached apron around her repulsive yellow dress and stabbed the ugly thing with her nametag. The café was in full swing at nine o’clock as all the students were flooding in, hoping to eat before college class began.
The day was going just fine for Arsenic. By ten o’clock she had earned twenty dollars in tips and everyone had been courteous enough. However, it just could not last for the ill-fated twenty-four year old.
“Waitress!” A young university student called her over, clicking his tongue like she was a dog. Arsenic felt the recognizable stirring of rage in her gut as she approached the brunet, a notepad in hand.
“Hi, I’m Sylvia.” said Arsenic, providing the expected affable greeting.
The smug little bastard just rolled his eyes and closed his menu with a snap. “Yeah, whatever. I want a black coffee and some eggs. A speck of salt on it and we’re gonna have problems. Now, shoo.”
She seethed, heading to the back and relaying the order. While waiting, she took deep breaths to unwind.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
“Hey, Cinnamon or whatever your name is, I want it pronto! I actually go to college and need to get there on time before I become a minimum wage employee like you.” The uncouth patron called superciliously.
Hocoam, the chef, glanced at the blonde with sympathetic eyes which just added fuel to her fire. Compassion was something she absolutely didn’t want. She was a trained killer, not some deprived girl who couldn’t handle a niggling client. “Here’s the coffee he ordered.”
Arsenic took it graciously, smiling tightly. “Don’t pity me. I don’t need it.” And with that she walked from the back.
Unbeknownst to her, Arsenic’s irritation had resulted in the throbbing pulse in her fingernails. Used to it, she ignored the familiar twinge and didn’t notice the cyanide seeping from underneath her fingernails, running over her pale flesh and slipping from them and into the black coffee.
“Here’s your goddamn coffee, asshole.” She spat vehemently. He threw back his head and tauntingly gulped the entire contents of the hot coffee before raising an eyebrow and glancing at her.
“I want to speak to your manager.”
Arsenic hissed, about ready to tell him where to shove it, when his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped forward in the booth. The Operative’s heart stopped and she stared down at her hands, only now feeling the dampness of poison flowing from them. Damnit. Attempting to manage her breathing, she ran from the room, glad no one has noticed his deadness. She entered a door that read ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY’, the only white thing in the café. The dressing room’s door was slightly ajar and she went through it cautiously. At the back of the dressing room was an exit door that many of the employees went out of for a smoking break. Arsenic shoved that door open and exited through the door, the hot Florida sun fluttering over her pale face. Shit, she did it again.
Arsenic had to leave; she had to leave as speedily as she could. She had enough money to buy a plane ticket to somewhere far away, an advantage of having an emergency fund for something of this sort. Her clothes were already packed and now all she had to do is throw her calico cats, Hemlock and Belladonna, into their cages.
“Tsk, kitties, come here.” She beckoned, bending over to stare under her bed and at the two pairs of lustrous green eyes. “Want a treat?”
With promises of goodies, the cats came out and she managed to wrangle them into their crates after feeding them a certain something for them to loosen up. Arsenic was all ready to go when her TV started to malfunction. Slamming her fist on it to get it to work, she missed the appearance of the man, but she heard him quite fine.
“This device I have, I'm sure you're familiar with its original. I believe they called it the Kill Switch Protocol."
In a fit of fury, Arsenic tossed her TV out the window.
LokiLeo789 said
Kinda late but I will see what happens:-P
Sorry, I was hanging with a friend ^_^
Wraithblade6 said
Name: Mithias VaromereGender: MAge: 798 (if it's 2014)Appearance: Personality: Mithias is even tempered, patient, slow to judge, but very dedicated once his mind is made up. He hates no one and strives for balance in all things.Likes: Peace, sacrifice, honor, love, truth, nature, freedom, music.Dislikes: Waste, prejudice, ignorance and hatred. History: Mithias is a bit of a black sheep in the Dracula family. His first few centuries were needless to say, difficult, as he battled with morality and even attempted rebellion against his own kind. It's been a long time however, and things have changed. Mithias' blood cooled and he was tamed. He travels the world, learning about science and humanity, and enjoys nature. Generally, when involving himself in human affairs, he plays the role of peacemaker. He has been known to hunt down serious criminals or even supernatural monsters on rare occasion. But like any vampire, he has to drink. At least once every several decades, he returns home to the castle. He searches for a means to reconcile the worlds of light and darkness, from the side of darkness.He could be the one who turned Evelyn.
Accepted.
“You okay?” The voice faded in and out, a distant echo in the back of her brain. All she could feel was the intense thump, thump, thump of her skull. Groaning, Sipley urged herself to get up. To stop being such a pansy – she was a woman, damnit, and a real strong one at that. She could do this! She needed to do this!
The ground blurred and she lifted into blackness, spiraling in nothingness. The cold black empty air around her was hard and Sipley found herself bending without consent. Her eyes barely blinked open – she was on that oaf’s back! How dare he? She was his equal! Not some burden to be carried around. It was a simple head wound, nothing a good pushing couldn’t fix. She didn’t need some hero or rescuer! She was no damsel! Sipley’s head fell back onto the cold iron plate, her hands relaxing and the energy fleeing her body. Dreariness pulled at her eyes and they were suddenly lead, too heavy to keep open as they kept slipping and slipping down. A good talking to was in order…after she slept a little.
The abyss welcomed her and she wrapped herself in the cool blanket, lying softly with euphoria pulsing upon her features. But then that dastard thumping was back. Thump, thump, thump. A horrible pain filled her being and she desired most to scream, to shriek like a banshee, but she couldn’t. Her body was immovable, her limbs numb. It was her worst nightmare. Then a heat soothed down her brow, smoothing down the creases of her forehead and taking the pain away. Slowly, and at last, she awoke.
Sipley sat up gradually, afraid to jar her head around though she would be in the fight again. Aldred was next to her and the assassin was quick to grab him by the head opening of his armor, bringing him down to her eye level. “Don’t ever carry me again.”
The ground blurred and she lifted into blackness, spiraling in nothingness. The cold black empty air around her was hard and Sipley found herself bending without consent. Her eyes barely blinked open – she was on that oaf’s back! How dare he? She was his equal! Not some burden to be carried around. It was a simple head wound, nothing a good pushing couldn’t fix. She didn’t need some hero or rescuer! She was no damsel! Sipley’s head fell back onto the cold iron plate, her hands relaxing and the energy fleeing her body. Dreariness pulled at her eyes and they were suddenly lead, too heavy to keep open as they kept slipping and slipping down. A good talking to was in order…after she slept a little.
The abyss welcomed her and she wrapped herself in the cool blanket, lying softly with euphoria pulsing upon her features. But then that dastard thumping was back. Thump, thump, thump. A horrible pain filled her being and she desired most to scream, to shriek like a banshee, but she couldn’t. Her body was immovable, her limbs numb. It was her worst nightmare. Then a heat soothed down her brow, smoothing down the creases of her forehead and taking the pain away. Slowly, and at last, she awoke.
Sipley sat up gradually, afraid to jar her head around though she would be in the fight again. Aldred was next to her and the assassin was quick to grab him by the head opening of his armor, bringing him down to her eye level. “Don’t ever carry me again.”
LokiLeo789 said
@ApokalipseHey do you mind if Caspian borrowed some of your poison while you are either unconscious or conscious.
Nope, don't mind at all.
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