Avatar of Fallenreaper

Status

Recent Statuses

7 yrs ago
Current Yes, I'm an oversize child. Deal with it. :P
2 likes
8 yrs ago
That moment you've got too many rp ideas floating in your head, but you don't want to overwhelm yourself? Yeah... I'm right there, suffering in silence.
6 likes
8 yrs ago
RP hunting is like finding the rare toy in the cereal box. Doable, but the time and effort is nearly more than I can bare!
6 likes
9 yrs ago
That amazing high when you realized how far you've come in improving your writing. It's impossible to describe, but drowns you in a positive glow.
5 likes
9 yrs ago
I love being a terrible person by making my PCs' lives miserable, it's art form that never gets old or boring.
2 likes

Bio



Personal details I've got enough room to share.


Username.....Fallenreaper
Nicknames....Fallen (preferred), Reaper, Devour of lost souls, etc.
Gender..........Female
Sign...............Libra (true to sign surprisingly)
Occupation....Wandering and exploring the caves of my insane mind
Location.........USA (Lost in the Cornfields!)

Status............Stable.



Active


Click the links (Titles) below to be taken directly to the thread.

Advance RP

Create-A-Hero
Accepting: GM/Co-GM Nitemare Shape, Hound55, & Dedonus


Formaroth Part 2: Throne of Lies
Still Accepting: GM TheDuncanMorgan


Casual RP

X-Men: The New Era - Issue II: Avalon Rising
Accepting: GM Almalthia, Co GM Pilatus


Legacy of Heroes: The New Age
Accepting: GM Jessie Targaryen, Co GMs Alfhedil and Apollosarcher


Nation RP

None

Arena RP

None yet.


Extra Stuff Featuring: Flight Rising.

Most Recent Posts

They are working on it, that's why Ryo asked about what would work best. :p I don't know much about it myself so you're not alone, though you guys can also use the OOC for that planning if you want. It's why it's there. XD
Laughter is in the word Slaughter. Just sayin'.


Would it really be any funnier if it wasn't? >_>

Like a damn rabbit!!! He sure knows how to multiple, doesn't he?
*Leans on the thread*

Does it help? '-'


I won't know until Echo gets back.. he's at an appointment right now. >_>
Collab galore!
Roan stirred when the vibrations hit the stables he currently hid in. Groggily his body leaned back on his hind legs and stretched out his forearms, gingerly letting the fresh burn fill the nerves in his action. He let a subtle, soft growl rumble through his throat as his muzzle let out a yawn, furling back his black lips and revealed several red stained fangs. Slowly he rose to his feet making the strained hay loft floor boards creak from his movements while he padded int the open. His ears flirted to the sounds of buzzing flies, his eyes picking out their feast, the pig and a mare, carcasses now buried half way in the stained hay. He paid little mind to their remains having his fill from them already. His dark tongue licked the white teeth quickly then coiled his body, leapt downwards. Roan's pads absorbed the impact the moment he landed causing him to shake slightly. His fur ruffled and shook the straw from his figure, letting the pieces wisp onto the stone floor. Dampening his nose to increase his smell, the wolf could inhale the numerous smells within his area causing him to perk up. Since he had slept the canines around town had settled down greatly but that was about to change. Wasting little time, Roan stood at the sizable hole gnawed in the stable side. His claws dig and picked a bit more, widening it some, before he pushed back through again. The rough, splintered edges combed his fur as he slid through finally giving the hole a sound whack with his tail on exiting. In a short time someone would've found his meals and likely discarded them, but for now he intended to run off to explore. In moments his legs and arms were darting across the hard back streets, his muscles moving quickly in a flat out run. His fur enjoyed the sensation of the air brushing past it while his eyes and ears noted the sounds of marching soldiers. Their figures had started to fill the main streets causing his path to rise another level. His feet kicked off a few barrels, rushing up them like stairs, and jumped to the nearest roof edge. He barely missed the small guard group emerging about the corner when he vanished to the roof tops again. Panting slightly, his nosed flared with a familiar scent. He paused, inhaling deeper, savoring the smell filling his brain as it came back feminine and similar to him. A few more slow sniffs happened until his body started to jog into the direction. Gingerly he climbed from one roof top to another, his claws and legs aiding his path flawlessly in the ever shifting plate forms just when he scaled the Klaw mountains long ago. Roan slowly filtered out the various scents for the one he wanted. One in particular drew anger and a sick sensation in his gut, its location was strongest in the direction of the arena. It smell of rot and festering wounds, death, causing him to give a brief disgusted snort. His mind made the distinct choice to avoid it, his muscles jerking to another direction. Here... over here... here! The scent cried out to him and suddenly he came to a trot then a stop, his head had rotating around to seek out the source. His tail shifted in a half heart wag, unsure to be happy or readying to high tail it away, when he drew near his current perch's edge. His instinct begged him to be careful, his ears perked and rotated as his claws clicked on the stone, leaning over to glimpse who the scent belonged to. Roan's head cocked slightly in a curious manner while he eyeing the figure. Feeling his fear ebb some, he began to venture downward and landed softly on the street's path just behind her. His eyes flickered with longing a moment then started to approach cautiously. It was hard to ignore the sensation of eyes pricking along his exposed back and flanks, his skin on edge when he made soft whimpering sounds. His ears flatted against his skull and tail lowered, giving a meeker appearance then usual. Or at least attempting to while he approached the woman.
No Rest for Weary...
9 years ago, Kenan at sunset. Neon lights popped on at sunset in Kenan, their eerie colors ranging from cold blues to fiery reds. Cars zoomed by like flashing streaks, running on the street tracks then shortly vanished around the corner. People, ignorant or shit face not caring, wandered the local clubs and bars looking for some adrenaline riddled fun. Absentminded of the crowds in the earth below, rain poured and soaked everything in relentless water. All the activity around gave a hint of exotic thrill and wanted rather then what it really was. Dangerous. However, unlike most of Kenan's residents who were lost in the illusion of euphoria, Emmet was edgy. His eyes jerked about, slithering from shadow to the next, expecting something to lurk there. He felt exposed standing out here in the back alley attached to Sinner's Luck Casino, making the anxiety grow worse by the passing second. Trying to chase away the feeling, he let out a breath that fogged over in the chilly air causing him to hug himself and rub some life into his arms. He had worn the thickness sweat and hoodie he could manage to put together but even that failed to chase away the frigid nip around him. No...he knew it wasn't the air that bothered him. It was the fact his sister was stolen and likely terrified. Emmet's uninjured fingers tightened in anger when the memory of last week played in his mind. Over and over, his mind tried to alter facts in a faint hope to change his fate. It didn't work. The bitter lie didn't change the fact sister was still gone, lost in that bastard's claws and in a pissed mood, Emmet's fist slammed on the wet wall. A fleshy smack sent the riveting water dripped back in his already soaked hoodie. Neck hairs stood straight up when he felt eyes land on him. Suddenly his eyes snapped up when something rattled then relaxed, realizing it was the casino's back door open and his current handler settled there smirking. He was an aged, white haired man with a smile that cried weasel and a tailor suit that likely cost more then he made in a year. The mere sight of him made Emmet's face hardened. Letting his cigar burned idly in between his fingers, the handler held out the unmarked package to Emmet. It was simply covered in nothing but plain brown paper. All that stood out was the logo: Darius' tribal fox. “So, you're Darius' new runner, eh?” The man chuckled lightly, leaning back when Emmet jerked the package from his grip. Unfazed by the attitude, his eyes filled with wicked mirth at some private joke and noticed his other hand. It was wrapped and bandaged to heal after Darius made a clean break. Emmet just glared, his jawline tightened to bite his tongue for a moment. His hand twitched and considered shoving his fist through the smug face then stopped. Darius' words echoed in his mind causing him to swallow his pride. “Yeah, you got a problem with that?” The ass' smile deepened. “No, through if Darius' ever gets tired of your ass then I know a few brothels looking for a new bitch.” With that last note, he turned about letting his laughs echo behind. The door shut loudly leaving Emmet alone in the rain as he seemed to spit venom, his hand still held the box tightly to his side and rain pouring down. Taking whatever patience he had left, the eighteen year old started to make his way to the alley's exit. His steps were quick and steady bring him along at a good pace before several blocks in. He turned off into a underground parking lot still under-construction, hoping the shortcut would've been enough to give him addition time. It would be a mistake he would never make again. His steps echoed and broke the unsettling silence, his eyes flirted from one end to the other, while his jog's pace died down to a walk. Thump...thump... his heat beat to remind him he was alive as his feet stretched across the open space. Darkness danced around him, swallowing what he couldn't see and hiding it well. The rain had cease to drown him now that he had slink into the concrete building, leaving the streets and the roar of their activity behind him. Now silence surrounded him. Half way into the parking lot, his skin prickled from unseen eyes licking up his back as his arm tightened his grip on his task. Something was dead wrong. He could feel the sensation crawling up his spine yet his eyes failed him in finding the source. Emmet's pace quickened, his package shifted to his other arm while reaching for his back pocket, where the silver switch blade was hidden. Chuckles stirred in the darkness to his left and Emmet flinched, his head jerked to the location. His figured jerked about to face to it, only hear a feminine voice her amusement. Her tone flirty and teasing, sending a fresh wave of dread. “My, my... he's rather cute...Don't you agree, Ramsey?” A shadow flirted across his vision's side, too fast to be seen. Shit...where are you bitch? Emmet's instincts bellowed in his head, his heart hammering harder, pouring the adrenaline in his veins and seemed to set him on fire. It wouldn't matter. Whatever lurked here was strong. Maybe too strong, Emmet's eyes hardened, his feet grind to a stop as his hand tightened around his knife. If they were too strong, his run for the entrance would've only provoke them to rip him to pieces. Then again staying put wasn't doing him any favors. Emmet decided it was the time to get the fuck out of here. “Oh can you hear it, Felicia? The sound of his panicked heart rattling in his chest? Lovely, isn't it?” A male voice erupted far too close to his ear. Reacting on fright and instinct, Emmet's hand rip his blade out. His elbow slashed behind to slam into the rib as he twisted about on the ball of his foot, bring him about to face the threat. The click sound came when the blade ejected yet nothing was behind him. “Jittery, isn't he?” The voice chuckled, something brushing by his shoulder. “Stop fucking around,” Emmet growled softly, becoming irritated at being toyed with, his hand pressed the silver blade against his good arm. The cast one cradled his package tightly under his arm where he intended on it to stay. Barrels suddenly fell to his left, causing Emmet's blade to whip that direction. Again nothing but fucking shadows. Where were they? He couldn't help wondering, his eyes jerked from shadow to shadow, his sight seeing hints of a form before it vanished. In the backdrop were safer sounds created by passing cars, walking people, and more that seemed to call him back. Already his feet were inching that direction, slowly retreating. “Awww... how rude.” Movement from his peripheral vision and silver flashed to his right, stopped in mid-motion inches from pale, sickly flesh. Caught by a rough hand, a male vampire flashed him a wickedly smirk. Dressed in a trench coat, a long scarf wrapped about his neck and seemed to have walked out of a cheesy novel, he held Emmet's hand in place easily. “Impressive... I like when my food fights back.” Clapping started as from the far shadows, a woman, likely Felicia, melted from the blackness. The sound shattered the silence when it echoed off the walls, followed by high heels clicking in her approach until she stood just a foot from the entangled pair. Emmet watched her eyes flickered purple as she looked up him from top to bottom while she ceased her applause. He gritted his teeth and tried to put more effort behind his blade, edging to Ramsey's throat. Her companion's eyes grew a brighter then tightened his grip. Bones in Emmet's wrist protested, his fingers refused to give up his only line of defense, making the vampire insist by increasing his power. Agony flamed though his wrist with Felicia giggling lightly at his stubbornness and clearly enjoying his failure. “Bravo, bravo.” Her tone was mocking, letting each word ring in his ears, “He's almost too precious to eat, wouldn't you say?” Ramsey growled, baring fangs, his fingers tightening about his prey's wrist and making the fragile human bone flare in additional pain. Emmet gritted against the agony rippling up his arm, instead eyed his attacker and shot a sparing glare at Ramsey's partner, feeling his adrenaline racing in his heart. Fuck.. Emmet silently cursed. His other hand was useless as it was wrapped up. Darius had broken several bones and to heal, they were forced to place it in a cast which had rendered it useless. He tried to free his trapped hand, unable due to the vampire's greater strength, while two continued their conversation, ignoring him. “Possibly,” Ramsey reached for Emmet's hood then flipped it over. Smiling at Emmet's venomous glare, he commented. “I expected a prettier face, Felicia, but this one seems to have...disappointed.” Emmet had turned to keep his back from being exposed, his head turned and now able to see the female vampire. She shrugged, beginning to pout some in a fake and childish way. “Pity. I was hoping for a new chew toy, Ramsey.” “Well...maybe,” Ramsey answered, frowning as he raised his hand to brush away some of Emmet's hair making the teen jerk. “With a little bit of a trim.” “Get the fuck of me,” Emmet said, his hand jerked only to make Ramsey's smirk deepen. “I like his feisty attitude. It should be fun to break him into a whimpering bitch, won't it luv?” “Very...” Felicia's lips to curl into a wicked, seductive smile. Quicker then a cobra, she struck. Her hand ripped forward, nails long and claw like, sank her claws into his shoulder surprising Emmet. He yelled while his hand jerked down the silver blade as it sizzled on Ramsey's back and forcing a yelp from the vampire, a hot impression left by the contact. Instinctively the grip was released allowing Emmet to whip his blade about. Pain, warmth and a hot sensation seared in his head sending him to his knee. Her tongue swirled disgustingly about the deep marks making his skin crawl with his blade point aimed for her back. Felicia, apparently, was the oldest of the pair. Without flinching, her left hand still holding his injured arm to her torso and neck in place, she jerked out her right to stop the blade. At the same time, she tenderly forced him downwards until he practically laid in her lap pissing Emmet off farther. Ramsey had took a few steps back, nursing his still sizzling hand, fuming subtle curses while he glared at Emmet staring back. His lips held their deep seated frown yet his tone became playful on seeing Felicia feeding vigorously. “Enjoying the bastard, aren't you?” Emmet felt his wrist squeezed causing the blade to be knocked away, his body becoming numb and intoxicated by the feeding. No... DAMN IT! Weakness seeped into his limbs and breath slowed, becoming lead in his chest, even when the female started to gore herself a bit. Emmet's golden eyes shifted to see Ramsey's eyes tighten slightly in curiosity. “Felicia, sweet, you'll kill him at that rate.” No answer from her made Ramsey shrug. “Pity, I guess she changed her mind.” Smelling the blood, his fangs clicked out and his hands grasped Emmet's wrist before joining in. Time ticked into a mind numbing state, Emmet's sight blurred some, the surroundings hazy and unfocused, edged into darkness. His mind was slipping away as his blood was being drained. The last thing he saw was a man swaggering out of the darkness. He was lean and dark skin with molten, hot veins making jagged patterns on his surface, topped with dread locks braided in his hair. Everything went dark when Emmet blacked out from his blood loss. He later learned the demon's name... was Juan.
~~~~~}0{}0{}0{Present}0{}0{}0{~~~~~ Location: Safehouse, unknown Time of Day: Morning
Emmet jerked up off the bed. Sweat drenched his figure, the sheets stuck to his currently half naked and bandage shape while dizziness filled his mind. His hands pushed out to stop from his face from suffocating into the pillow less mattress while his eyes glanced about the room. First off he knew at once he wasn't in his apartment as everything looked used, abused and rather clean compared to his residence causing his heart to beat loudly. It rattled in his head for a moment before he shook it clear. Cold sweat dripped off his skin and stained the sheets, evidence left by the nightmares, leaving him to shiver a bit. Gingerly he started to turn in his bed only to feel something brush his wrist causing him to pause, seeing the thin, silver line sticking out. A needle. Emmet stared harder, his eyes flickered with worry, and edged to the bed side. He mumbled softly, “What the fuck?” Out of habit, his hand brushed his hair from his eyes to look in confusion on the room and determine where he was. Last thing he recalled was that he was in Darius' mansion before the fox and him went rabid on each other, his face meeting the dirt and blacked out. Slowly his bare foot touched the icy floor then pressed weigh into it. It crumbled and buckled under him, bring Emmet to curse as he landed on all fours. His back exposed showed three more needles in his back, one near his neck, another in the center and last one in his lower back following his spine in a straight line. It might've explained why he didn't feel anything. In his sides and about waist level, the last two needles were stuck in and got caught among the sheets. Not willing to stay down, Emmet's feet tried to push himself up back only to get a few inches then fall back on all fours. “Damn it!” Emmet nearly shouted. Meanwhile Juan had stopped trying to fend off Kasain, his own torso sloppily bandaged as he requested the needles removed, when he heard Emmet tumble out of bed. His head twisted about then shifted quickly toward the man still trying to walk unaided. He rolled off a quick comment to the fallen patient as he started to ease himself off the stool he was on, intent to help Emmet back up. “Well, if you wanted a wake up call then I could've given you a better one sleeping beauty.”
@Sundered Echo@Fallenreaper nudge. Nudge. Prod. Prod. Nudge.
I'm still and twitching, I'm going to work on Helena and leave the top open to add on Echo's. See if that helps.
Got it.
Next post, Lucius, feel free to move the group to the nesting area.
© 2007-2026
BBCode Cheatsheet