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Just call me Prose.

I'm twenty three.
No Face accurately describes my appearance, I think.
I've been roleplaying for a long time.
Feel free to correct me on things.
I edit character sheets a lot.
My male characters will highly outweigh my female characters.
I reuse characters that I like.
I was in advanced writing classes at one point, it didn't make an impression on me.
I do best in high casual settings but I could probably do advanced if I put effort into it.
I hate writing personality and appearance sections, I'm bad at it.
It takes me at least four replies before my responses stop looking like garbage.
I refuse to write a first status until I can think of something good to say.
At every given moment, I'm worried that I'm annoying everyone in the thread.
I'm not as pretentious as my name might suggest.
Roleplay Compilation List:

GMing:
N/A.

Co-GMing:
Breaking the Sun

Partaking In:
Vivid Recollections
Marchand School Of Sorcery
Sands of Time
Government Sanctioned Superheroes

Most Recent Posts

I've been sort of lagging behind. I'll try to get something up soon, sorry about the wait. My muse for writing is all over the place.
@Days I haven't been keeping up with anything but I'll get something up tomorrow. I have most of a reply started.

As a note to everyone, this isn't dead, just lots of life in the way of me getting things done. Very sorry for the wait!



LOCATIONQUINN'S ROOM.
INTERACTING WITH — N/A.




Las Vegas, Nevada.
The city was saturated in smoke and lights. His headlights, his cigarette.
The radio was going out on him again, the sound of Arcade Fire was fading into static and the car was filled with terrible silence. He hated silence, silence gave him time to think and if he was thinking then he had time to get angry about this all again. He punched the radio, cracked the glass on the front of it and it sputtered at him. He punched it again, it didn't seem to respond much after that. He heard his own frustrated exhale, smoke rose from between his lips and out of his nostrils. Perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect.

Four hours. He had been driving for four hours. Plane tickets were expensive, it was cheaper to drive. He had been listening to the same Arcade Fire album for four hours. The radio had been his only solace in this trip and now it was down for the count. He was frustrated, he wanted to punch it until it coughed up music again but now he was stuck in silence. The only sounds around him were the sounds of the road, and the sounds of the road just made him feel muted and miserable. Inhale smoke, exhale smoke. Drop the ash into the styrofoam cup beside him.

The coffee in the cup holder beside him was cold and full of cigarette ash. He had taken two sips of that coffee before his stomach had become violently ill and he'd had to wretch up all of it's contents onto the side of the road. The cigarette clutched between his fingers was trembling, a thin tail of smoke was curling up towards the tattered ceiling of his car. He could see a steady trail of ants marching across his dashboard to a half eaten snack-cake from an hour ago.
He was a wreck.

He dropped his cigarette into the cold coffee, let it sizzle out there and he fumbled for another one. He stuffed the next cigarette between his lips, brandished his lighter and lit the tip. He inhaled smoke, he exhaled smoke. There was a bad feeling settling over him again, he had been hoping to drown it out in cigarettes and music. There was no more music and he was running out of cigarettes.

Why was he coming here?
Simple answer, she had invited him. Complicated answer, he had some ridiculous hope that he could change the course of events as they happened. After draining a bottle of vodka the night before, he had come to the brilliant idea that he could win her back. It had seemed like a great plan at the time, now it was starting to seem like a split second decision made by alcohol. It was funny how that happened, it was funny how he thought he was responsible enough to make grown-up decisions when he was still doing shit like that.

Marriage.
It was a word that tasted like blood in his mouth, marriage didn't work. The pieces never fit together like they ought to. You couldn't just tie two people together forever and expect it to work, people had urges, people cheated, people- It was just so unexpected. She had always talked marriage with that same disdain that he did, she hadn't ever seemed like she'd wanted a husband. Maybe that meant something, maybe this invitation was her hint to him that it was only with him that she couldn't picture forever.

Maybe he was only coming here to drive himself insane. He didn't know any of these people, he had never met any of them. He knew their names and he knew little snippets of things that she had told him. He was a stranger amongst strangers, just Daphne's estranged college friend. They didn't know him, he didn't know them. That should have made him more hesitant. It should have put his nerves on end, it should have made this alcohol-fueled decision seem even crazier.
Luckily, Quinn was not a guy that was easily deterred.

Anyway, despite all his anger, despite all his misery, Daphne was home. Home, in the sense that wherever she was, that was home for him. He had watched her walk away once, he wasn't about to watch her walk away again, not without a fight. No, this time wasn't going to be that easy, this time he was going to convince her to stay. That was the plan, at least, he was still working out the kinks.

The rest of the drive was like that, nothing but silence and the turmoil of his own thoughts. A cigarette between his fingers, cold coffee swiring with ash, the rest of the ride was silent but Quinn's mind was very loud.


He could see the hotel as it came into view, as grand and as beautiful as he would expect of her. She had been born into money, she was used to fine things. He wasn't so used to fine things, the sight of it was a little bit intimidating to him. He took a moment to watch the people that were entering and exiting the hotel. He needed a moment to size them up, a moment to see what he was dealing with. The car was safe, he was anonymous in the car.

Once he stepped out of the car, he had to put on his game face. He fumbled a new cigarette out of his emptying case, placed it in his mouth and lit the end. He smoked like that for a good few minutes, just watching people as they passed. He had rode the last hour out in silence, he was content to spend a few more moments in that silence. People entered, people exited. Some watched him suspiciously, locked their cars up noticeably at the sight of him, others didn't even notice him. He liked the ones who didn't notice him.

He waited, he waited, he waited.
Finally, he drew himself up, dropped the cigarette into the cold coffee and opened the car door. He said a mute goodbye to the car that had been keeping him safe and he made his walk into the hotel. He checked in, didn't stick around to talk at the front desk, though he did crack a joke or two about the prices and then he walked to his room. It went like clock work, it went smooth.

He checked his pack of cigarettes, counted three and dismissed the frustrated urge to groan in the middle of the hotel hallway. He unlocked the bedroom door, he stepped inside and he counted his cigarettes again. He counted three. There were still three, that was still frustrating. He paced for a moment, checked his phone, ignored the urge to respond to Daphne. He paced again, he freed a new cigarette from the pack.

He walked out to the balcony, lit up and-
He saw her.
Beautiful, with dark hair and brown eyes. A face that he had remembered down to the curve of her nose. She looked the same, seeing her now was different than a photo or a memory. It twisted something inside of his chest, it made him remember why he'd come here all along. It made it hard to keep his mouth from curving into a smile.

Soundlessly, he raised his hand in greeting.
I'll be working on a post, expect it tomorrow or monday.


Here's Ozzie!
@Days I'll be working on one tonight!
Howdy, friends! I've made our official Familiar Conjuration and Illumination professor! His name is Aldridge Baines.



LOCATIONTHE EDGE.
INTERACTING WITH — COLIN BRADY - @Altered Tundra & ADRIAN CASTILLO @spooner


Of course, he was getting kind of drunk, a lot of things weren't making sense but it wasn't normal to hear Colin become so emotional over something. His response had stricken Zeke as important, it was something that he was going to ask about later. It was something that he couldn't ask about right now with a few drinks in his system but he was definitely going to bring it up later. It was natural for him to worry about his older brother, especially with everything that Colin had gone through. He hoped he hadn't accidentally dug up some bad memories.

This was a night about having fun, which neither of them seemed to have enough of. It was about time for things to start running smoothly and maybe they could have kept running smoothly if it weren't for the appearance of Suspicious Tall Man. Zeke didn't like the look of him and he wasn't warming up to him over his glass of scotch, so he was sure that he wouldn't be warming up to him any time soon.

Colin introduced Adrian with flourish, though something in his mannerisms suggested to Zeke that he didn't like the other man at all. It was hard not to pick up on the distinctively threatening stance that he had taken at the sight of him. Though it made Zeke a bit more comfortable to know that he wasn't the only Brady getting bad vibes from Adrian tonight. Of course, he couldn't be so bad, right? He was friend's with the Captain so he couldn't be so bad, right?

As Colin began to ask Adrian about returning home, Zeke finished off his drink. He wondered if he could get another if he flagged the bartender down himself. It was steadily becoming his primary goal to get as plastered as physically possible before he left here. It had been a good while since he'd been able to sit back and drink in excess, he appreciated Colin for giving him the chance. He'd been having fun so far, even if he was a little drunk.

As Colin and Adrian talked, he allowed his gaze to scope out the room.




John Reid's Farm - House.



It was hard not to be stressed, he had learned that survival was the most important goal when it came to these situations. It had taken one axe murderer to amp his paranoia up so high that it was practically touching the clouds. Though the insects weren't carrting axes and Scott Reese was nowhere to be seen, he was still full of apprehensive fear of what was to come. He was waiting for that inevitable scream.

He didn't feel safe at all anymore and this was doing little to prove that theory wrong. One moment, they're hunting for evidence and the next moment, they're being swarmed in insects. It was only natural to find himself waiting and waiting for those insects to get in. Each moment was another moment of pure stress and anxiety. He couldn't stop barracading, he had to do something.

He was grateful for the help when Grant joined him, he wasn't quite the toughest and an extra set of hands was more than appreciated. He smiled to Grant half-heartedly when Grant made the sign with his hands and didn't quite know if he could honestly say that he was "ok". He was scared out of his mind and he was trying to stave off that terribly ominous feeling inside of his chest that something was destined to go terribly wrong. How do you explain that you just don't trust anything to go fine?

He answered Grant out loud because there wasn't time for him to text everything. "I'm just scared," he admitted. "Waiting for the sky to fall, y'know?"

He had a lot of people in here that he didn't want to see get hurt and he may have been able to test fate once but he wasn't sure he'd be able to do it again. He didn't know what he could do, shadows didn't stop bugs, he couldn't distract a whole swarm. He was full of nothing but stress, and then there was the cry, the inevitable voice calling out into the house. The sound of the swarm, the sickness twisting inside of his gut.

Panic gripped him and he looked up, waiting for the insects but... they had frozen. He was frozen, not in the same way, but in staring at them. He reached up, touched one of the frozen bugs and exhaled sharply. "I can't help but agree with Tuyen," he said quietly. "Basement seems like a death sentence but it might be our only shot."




John Reid's Farm - Barn.



"You already know but I'll repeat it for those who don't, I make things invisible. It's fairly useless here because I had us invisible in that tunnel and those damn bugs still followed us."

She couldn't help but sound a bit irritated, it was an overall irritating situation. Bugs galore and not a damn thing to do about it, it was all so frustrating. It made her regret ever moving to Farmerhill, she couldn't help but imagine that this would have never happened if she'd just stayed in the Keys. Of course, they has left the Keys for good reason but it was still a pain in the ass.

She wished she'd been given a power that could vaporize the hell out of these bugs or something. Instead, she was able to hide things, how ironic. She was a moment away from pacing the room in her frustration, she was trying to settle for foot tapping. She could cloak the room but all that would do is make them die while invisible. She hoped Lynette had a good plan, Lynette was a leader, if anyone could come up with something then she could, couldn't she?
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