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7 yrs ago
By order of me, Lady of the Lore, I am not allowed to go to bed until I finish this post on pain of *insert creative punishment here*.
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Bio



::Who Is Lady of Lore?::

Hi! My name is Lor, or Lauren, or Princess, or whatever else you'd like to call me. I've been role-playing for about twelve years now, bouncing around between multiple sites, dipping my toes in different creative pools. In fact, I've been a long-time RPG member (PlaysWithFire was my old name, if anyone recognizes that {probably not}), but lost track of the website after the multiple crashes a few years ago and ended up taking a break from writing. I'm big into Sci-Fi and Fantasy (Star Wars, Game of Thrones, Mass Effect, Lord of the Rings, X-Men, The Tudors, Harry Potter, True Blood, Spartacus, etc), so naturally that's what I love to write about, but I'm also a fan of mixed historical fiction and apocalyptic of any flavor.

I love to write complicated damsels, both distressing and in distress, and prefer being human over any other race/species, because I believe you don't need powers or epic talents or pointed ears or green skin to be extraordinary. I'm a huge believer in the power and ability of the ordinary human race, and I like to try and integrate that into my work when I can. I'm not into writing overpowered superheroes or wickedly decked-out Force wielders. Instead, I like to write as close to reality in a fantasy world as I can, and leave the big show stuff to other writers, because let's face it, everyone wants to be the hero! Who wants to write the feisty little human stuck in the middle? Me. I'm the support more than the focus, I write to help YOU shine, not me, and I'm just fine with that.
That's not to say I won't try anything else, though! I do enjoy writing the occasional mutant, elf, or blue alien. I don't much care for blatant horror or gore writing, but I won't shy away from getting my hands dirty or shedding some In Character blood when needed.


I like a drama-free OutOfCharacter environment and am very cheerful, mild mannered, and easy to work with, so I go with the flow during story progression and don't make a big deal about anything unless someone's being purposefully mean or troll-y. Outside of writing, I am a child of the Performing Arts (voice, piano, dance, acting, etc) and a huge pasta enthusiast. I go to Sci-Fi/Fantasy conventions around the USA and costume as various characters from films and TV, I play a variety of MMOs (7 Days To Die, Guild Wars 2, WoW, SWTOR, etc) and games (Halo is a favorite, as is Mass Effect and The Sims 4). I LOVE music, it inspires me when I'm creatively blocked and calms me when I'm freaking out on an airplane, and I am very easily impressed / easily excited. I fangirl over good stories and fun characters SO hard. <3

I also talk too much. Did I mention that? No? Well, now you know. :P



::My Role-Play Preferences::
  • Interested In: Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Adventure, Supernatural (not the TV show) and Paranormal Phenomena, Post Apocalyptic, Historical Fiction, and I'm sure this list will grow!
  • SLOW POSTER! You have been warned.
  • I prefer smaller groups (in my experience, anything greater than 5 or 6 writers gets absolutely lost in translation), I enjoy one-on-one as well, but not afraid to try out a big group.
  • I also enjoy forming OutOfCharacter bonds with other writers.
  • I tend to treat character applications as works of art, and like to spend some time crafting them.




::Role-Play Exclusives::
Things To Know When Writing With Me
  • I am a VERY slow poster due to offline circumstances, but I AM paying attention, so rest assured I will post for you at my earliest convenience and will try not to hold anyone back. If this is a problem for you, talk to me, we'll work something out.
  • I try to keep OOC communication flowing, so if I'm going to be offline for a bit, I will try to let you know.
  • I always say quality over quantity. That said, I do tend to make Starkiller-sized opening posts, but try to keep things smaller after that. If you have trouble post-splicing my words or need clarification on something, ask away! Happy to explain.
  • I am a big fan of both spontaneous unplanned RP and pre-planned RP. If you have ideas for something, even if you think it doesn't work or sounds crazy, please share!
  • I am happy to offer other methods of communication if we're involved in a plot together and you need to reach me quickly. I use Discord, let me know if you'd like my info, and don't mind looking into your preferred application if that don't work for you.

Most Recent Posts

Grant did his best to look around to where Bri was. "What are you doing?" His voice was a bit raspy when he answered her, "You need to get out of here." He could feel that he was getting colder and he knew that he was injured enough that he might slow her down and that was the last thing that he wanted. He knew that if she tried to untie him that it would leave her even more vulnerable to an attack from this guy and he couldn't have that. Of course he said he just wanted them to leave but could he really be trusted? He did hit Grant in the back of the head and then hog tie him.

He could still feel the blood trickling down his head and dripping off the side, and he was sure at this point there was a sizable pool that had formed, those head wounds always bled so much. To Bri it must have looked awful. "Take my bag and go before he gets you too." He knew that she probably wouldn't listen but he also knew that she would know he was serious. Even in his worst moment his only priority was to protect her from danger, it was all that he could think about at the moment.


Checkout Counter #6, Walmart, Framingham, Mass.

She was close. Close enough that he could smell her. (Degree Antiperspirant, $3.99, aisle 3A.) Wait. Was that her? Blood on the floor. His. Grant-package's. (Band-Aid brand plastic coated self-adhesive bandages, box of 50, $5.99, aisle 3B.) No. Nonononononono... Not her. Something else, smelly. His focus was on them, on her... but his ears were elsewhere. (St. Elsewhere, box-set, season one, $29.99, aisle 28) **quietly, almost hissing** "not NOW, dammit..." He could pinpoint a sound now. It was in women's underthings, just inside the main entrance. **still very, very quietly** "Your fault. Your fault. Your. Fault. Yours. Bad. Yourfault. You and Grant-package. 'least two of them. Stinkers in the naughty garments. Leaker needs new hosiery... cleanup, aisle 2 please..." Very, very slowly, with his off-hand, Ryan reached into a coat pocket and withdrew a set of dikes (Milwaukee, $11.99, aisle 17, Automotive) and as he swivelled the wavering gun barrel toward the ladies' naughty garment section, held them out for the woman to take. Held them as if touching her or touching them while she touched them would mean certain transmission of cootiees. "Cut him out. There'll be more coming. Always more. Always when there's fresh meat. Aisle 10. Delicatessen / Butcher..."

@The DudeMan @Lady of Lore


Oh. Oh God, not NOW!! Dammit, they’d cleared the store! Where had they come from?! Of all the worst possible times…
But of course it was now. Long before the world fell apart, people thought it cruel and unfair. Little did they know how good things were.

“Quiet,” Bri hushed Grant as she swiped the pliers from the crazy-man’s hands and set them to work on the bonds holding her friend, whipping her head around every once in a while to check the surroundings… and the man with the gun. The way he spoke, the aisle numbers, something about him not being ‘done’ with something, made her wonder if he’d worked here before everything went to hell. Had he been here this whole time by himself? Could explain the severe mental instability—

A wet, ragged groaning from the ‘naughty garments’ aisle interrupted her musings just as the pliers clipped through the last of Grant’s bonds. She almost flinched instinctively as something knocked over a stand, worried Gunman might lose it and pull the trigger by accident. Bri stuffed the pliers in her jacket pocket and crouched over Grant, hands gently but purposefully checking him for injuries. “Pain? Nausea? Sleepiness?” She found the gash in his head, patting it with a cotton pad. “Can you move? You may need to move…”
Her heart was present, but her mind was already on the impending rotter situation.
Grant was down. She’d HAVE to fight. No way around it. Could drag Grant to safer place if need be. Leave basket behind, can grab it once the risen are taken care of. The addition of Gunman made it more complicated. Unstable. Unpredictable. Unknown. Can’t trust to help her. Had to protect Grant from him, too.

Her thought pattern ended abruptly, that adrenaline-fueled clarity kicking in. Hyper-aware of everything, she turned an ear upwards, listening.
They were getting closer.
“Stay down, G, I’ll be fine, ok?” she hissed at Grant as she tiptoed over to pick up her machete once more. Bri came to stand beside Gunman, but not too close, her movements slow and steady. “Hey,” she whispered, gesturing towards his gun with a shake of her head. “Too noisy. That’ll draw more, we need to stay quiet. Use something else. We need to hunt them down before they get to—”

Too late.

What rounded the corner looked more like giant moldy SPAM than something that used to be human.
And it brought friends. Just four. But even one was dangerous enough.

Bri didn’t hesitate as the small pack of rotters broke apart, two heading for Gunman, one with arms stretched out towards Bri in a death-hug. The last one gurgled from behind the others, awkwardly attempting to move forward. She glided towards ‘hers’, noting the ‘new item, half price’ tags dangling from its clothing, the way its gaping mouth hung at a weird angle as if its jaw was broken. She punched a hand against its chest to keep it at arms length, feeling its ribs give beneath her palm with a soggy SCRUNCH as she jammed the tip of her blade through the bottom of its jaw. It was an easy push upwards into the brain.

Gore drizzled downwards.
Bri waited for it to fall, smashed its head with her boot heel just to make sure, and turned around.
There she was. klak. klak. Her boots on the tile. Her light wasn't helping the matter, and for a moment, he considered just pulling the trigger. Two of them. Two would mean trouble. Two would mean more will come. More would mean the stinkers. Trouble. Trouble... he couldn't trust her. Sure, sure. Not looking for trouble. klak.

"Like the others. Right..." Easy... easy... game-face. (cosmetics, foundation, $6.99, aisle 6 -- 'beauty products.') "Shut up!" Sometimes that voice was just too present. too close. Bad timing. Did I say that out loud? The light... her light (C-cell batteries, checkout #3 display -- place where you just whacked Dude with an Edger -- $24.99, aisle 17 -- 'garden implements') "I said cut it OUT!" ...was still lingering close at-hand, so that he couldn't focus. klak. The gun wavered in his hand a little, aimed at her (general location.) The barrel of the gun looked big... dangerous. Dirty. Like it was ready to deliver infection and pain. The fact that it quaked slightly in his (nervous? sick?) hand did her no favours, though the fact that he wasn't pointing directly at her, but only vaguely at her, was of some consolation.

"y-you just need to go. Away from here. Take your friend and leave. I-I just don't want to have to kill him. Or you. But you can't stay. Can't. I'm just not done, see? If I was done, you could stay, and it'd be swell." His face loses all emotion. "But I'm not. So you can't. Go." (bullets, security counter, no listed price [NFS!] -- you can always replenish...) "SHUT. UP!"


March 15, 2018 - Framingham, Massachusetts - Walmart


The room was spinning and he felt the cold on the open wound beginning to seep in as the blood began to drip all over the tiles around him. He blinked a few times as his eyes finally came somewhat into focus and he looked up to see his attacker crouched holding a gun and he could hear Bri approaching. He tried to free himself without gaining too much attention from the gunman but he was still kind of out of it and the more he struggled the more he felt himself losing consciousness. He had to help her, he had to do something but at the moment he was completely powerless to do anything. He could call out to her, he could warn her of the gun, but what would this guy do if he did that? He could try to tell her to run but would this guy shoot her in the back? He did hit Grant in the back so it's possible. He was getting desperate to step in, he struggled once more to no avail. His eyes began to well as the image of Bri being shot ran through his mind over and over again. He couldn't let that happen, he wouldn't. "Please--" his voice was weak but sincere, "Sir. Please. Don't hurt her." He pleaded. "Tell her to go. Do what you want to me, but please don't hurt her." He didn't know what else to do, he wasn't strong enough to break his bindings and he didn't want to risk her safety by calling to her or allowing her to do something heroic. So he pleaded and stared at the man as he laid in a growing pool of blood becoming dizzier and more light headed by the second. He felt tired, he felt weak, but he fought the urge to close his eyes and sleep until he knew that Bri would be safe. At least for now.


March 15, 2018 - Framingham, Massachusetts - Walmart

Bri crouched momentarily, placing the flashlight on its end, beam reaching for the ceiling. It cast her immediate surroundings in a dim, dusty grey light, brushing the edges of each shape in a soft blur.

Somewhere under the layers of adrenaline, her heart sank a little for the man with the gun. The way he spoke, the tone in his voice… she’d heard it before, or at least variations of it at work. There was something broken about it. But then, weren’t they all a little broken now? Survival changed you. For better or worse, it changed you no matter who you were before. Those that say it doesn’t are lying.

“We’ll leave, you have my word,” she reassured him in gentle tones, leaving her machete on the ground near the flashlight. She couldn’t see details, but the way his hand lightly shuddered was enough for her to put her weapon down. Any sign of a threat from her wouldn’t be received very well, for sure. “May I go to him? I’ll check him over and make sure he can walk and then we’ll be gone before you know it.” The young woman didn’t wait for an answer. Prudent to be cautious, yes, but she had no idea the extent of Grant’s injuries. For all she knew, he could have minutes to live. Slowly, casually, keeping her hands in a meek way, she knelt next to her best friend and tried to assess without touching him. “Grant? Where does it hurt? Can you move?” she asked calmly.
Thanks for the poke, this looks like a lot of fun! <3 Will definitely be keeping an eye, thinking about a possible character. :)
Sounds like my kind of fun! Will be watching. <3
I'm still here reading! <3 I DO actually have a character sheet mostly ready, I just need the Personality section.
Still here! Feeling better today, gonna try and fix up my character sheet. <3
My only reason is the flu. Still in the game, just need to be able to make the profile. :P Will have it up as soon as I can.
Working on mine on and off right now! <3
Well. I mean. You know I'm already in. <3
Not the dead. Human. This was a human problem.

Not that it was any comfort for Bri. Too often, they'd found the living to be more dangerous than the dead, and without Grant around to deter trouble-makers… well, her odds of surviving went down very quickly. Visions of her best friend wounded or bleeding out under a cashier stand threatened her focus, but the voice had said he'd be fine…

Gripping her weapon, she moved slowly towards the direction of whomever had spoken. How many were there? Only one had spoken. Rare to find anyone running solo, though. What did they want? Couldn't be their supplies, they were in a store full of everything a human needed. Information, then? Possibly. Medical help? Unlikely. If intentions were sinister, why the 'hostage' song and dance? Why not just kill them immediately?

Bri raised her hands out from her side in a cautioning gesture as her light found the culprit. Her heart jumped a little as she saw Grant, laying on his side, tied and facing the wall… and the firearm resting on his head. "I-..we don't want any trouble," she said calmly as she approached, shifting her flashlight beam from his face. The machete was still in her hand, but it was pointed downwards. Bri paused a good distance away.

She squinted a little, limbs tensed, trying to get a clearer look at the man crouched against the wall without blinding him with her flashlight. "We just stopped for some supplies…"
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