Okay, there's Evelyn's emo moment. XD Now that I got that out of the way, I'll be sending her to class in mah next post.
Rusalka Member
Blasphemous Rabbit
STATUS: It's Good Friday everyone, or as the Romans on Golgotha say, "It's hammer time!" 4 mos ago
- Last Seen: 4 mos ago
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 5635 (1.24 / day)
- VMs: 1
-
Username history
- Rusalka 12 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
Riven Wight,
Birdboy,
loco rococo,
O O,
MurderVictim,
Half Pint,
Snowdrops,
Flightless_Soul,
Hibachi90,
TokyoPewPew
Status
Recent Statuses
4 mos ago
Current
It's Good Friday everyone, or as the Romans on Golgotha say, "It's hammer time!"
3
likes
4 mos ago
I just love having a job where the general population treats me like a used napkin.
13
likes
4 mos ago
"Hey. You. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right?"
8
likes
4 mos ago
As a holy paladin, I can't say for certain PrinceAlexus is going to be smighted, but don't be surprised if you find him with a mace in his face.
5
likes
Bio
Most Recent Posts
@Framing A Moose@Demonic Angel
Once the two were gone, it was as if the weight of the entire world was lifted from her burdened shoulders. Evelyn heaved a sigh of relief, relief that she didn't tap even deeper into that side desperately she wanted to bury. She hated it. If it was a person, flesh and blood, standing right in front of her, she'd punch her fist straight through its chest and rip out its blackened, corrupted heart, crushing it in her hand till it bled all over her sharp fingers. I will never be like him... I hate him! And I'll keep hating him till the day I drag him back into Hell!
Her fists were clenched at her sides, knuckles burning with her unkempt fury threatening to break free....the true Evelyn. No...that wasn't her. That was the monster they created, the beast they formed to be their foray into chaos and bloodshed, eternal torment. No...no matter how much her mother screamed at her, no matter how much her father hit her, burned her, scarred her flesh forever....she would never be like them. She would never be the villain. The sound of people around her, so cheerful and full of laughter, so unnerving that it made her cringe. Evelyn would have gone to class, but she didn't care about that right now. She needed to escape.
The dorm hall was but a short walk from the gymnasium, a crossover through the perfectly manicured lawns and pathways of the school campus towards the oblong shaped building. If memory served her right she would be bunking in room 349, but....who else was bunking there? Hopefully no one, and that's how Evelyn would have it. She hated being around people, so the thought of having to be stuck with someone the whole damn night....was just sickening to her.
She finally made it after climbing the stairs, staggering with a sigh. Slowly she opened the door, revealing to herself the quaint, simplistic room, two beds on either side, a few shelves and one dresser with a mirror. Well, at least there was a place to keep her books, Evelyn mused.
She decided the bed next to the window would be hers, falling into it on her back...gazing headlong at the stark white ceiling above...and slipping in her earbuds before setting her music player to shuffle through her playlist, a specially selected menagerie of all things hard rock and heavy metal. It just so turned out the first song that would be playing, much to Evelyn's....dismay....was Five Finger Death Punch's Coming Down. Not that it was a bad song. It was just....what it reminded Evelyn of....
Right as Ivan Moody's vocals, ghostly and enigmatic, overtook the somber tone of the guitar, Evelyn stood and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hands, as if in a trance, reached for the hem of her shirt, and pulled it off of her, leaving her with just her black bra....and all the scars and cuts across her chest, her abdomen, and her back. Tenderly, she traced the jagged contours of flesh with her fingertip, wincing slightly....as though she was feeling that horrible....horrible pain yet again. This was how some fathers treated their daughters....and some mothers, right? Every claw swiping, every sword slashing, every lightning bolt and fireball blazing, searing her porcelain flesh into ugly black and red blemishes, the pain that encompassed every inch of her and left her screaming in tormented sobs.
"You're weak, Evelyn." Her father's wretched, authoritative voice would boom like thunder in the distant black clouds, his eyes narrowed with discontent towards the whimpering whelp of a girl cowering before him, blood, fresh and viscous pouring from her newly opened wounds, her clothes torn and tattered. "You are at ripe age to take my throne, and yet here you sulk at my feet like a worthless puppy. Pathetic!"
~"Mmmm it is indeed, my love."~ Her mother would chime in, salt to be poured and rubbed raw into those very wounds. ~"In fact, I don't see why we keep this pitiful excuse of a daughter around. We should just throw her to the fire and be done with her. There's no way she'll become a worthy successor to your throne, Lord Chernabog."~
"She will, Lady Mal." Chernabog snarled, his fangs peeking over his dry and calloused lips. Suddenly, his massive claw wrapped around her frail neck, lifting Evelyn into the air with nary a flinch of his rippling, hard muscles, all while she kicked and writhed, barely able to breathe. Then....he pulled her close to him, so that his eyes, like the very fires of Hell itself...was burning through her skull, were piercing into her eyes, eyes that were so full of terror towards the gargantuan behemoth...and his heinous smirk, "Her life depends on it."
Evelyn's own hands suddenly reached for her neck, tumultuous, ragged breaths ravaging her lungs and her throat with an irritable heat, believing that the hands of her father were choking the life out of her once more. She screamed, every ounce of her rage pouring out into one fist that collided with the mirror in a violent crash. She hated them....but most of all.... she hated herself.
Shards of broken mirror were buried deep in her flesh, trickles of blood dyeing her pale skin a shade of red. So many cuts, so much pain....but so numb she felt to it all.
Once the two were gone, it was as if the weight of the entire world was lifted from her burdened shoulders. Evelyn heaved a sigh of relief, relief that she didn't tap even deeper into that side desperately she wanted to bury. She hated it. If it was a person, flesh and blood, standing right in front of her, she'd punch her fist straight through its chest and rip out its blackened, corrupted heart, crushing it in her hand till it bled all over her sharp fingers. I will never be like him... I hate him! And I'll keep hating him till the day I drag him back into Hell!
Her fists were clenched at her sides, knuckles burning with her unkempt fury threatening to break free....the true Evelyn. No...that wasn't her. That was the monster they created, the beast they formed to be their foray into chaos and bloodshed, eternal torment. No...no matter how much her mother screamed at her, no matter how much her father hit her, burned her, scarred her flesh forever....she would never be like them. She would never be the villain. The sound of people around her, so cheerful and full of laughter, so unnerving that it made her cringe. Evelyn would have gone to class, but she didn't care about that right now. She needed to escape.
The dorm hall was but a short walk from the gymnasium, a crossover through the perfectly manicured lawns and pathways of the school campus towards the oblong shaped building. If memory served her right she would be bunking in room 349, but....who else was bunking there? Hopefully no one, and that's how Evelyn would have it. She hated being around people, so the thought of having to be stuck with someone the whole damn night....was just sickening to her.
She finally made it after climbing the stairs, staggering with a sigh. Slowly she opened the door, revealing to herself the quaint, simplistic room, two beds on either side, a few shelves and one dresser with a mirror. Well, at least there was a place to keep her books, Evelyn mused.
She decided the bed next to the window would be hers, falling into it on her back...gazing headlong at the stark white ceiling above...and slipping in her earbuds before setting her music player to shuffle through her playlist, a specially selected menagerie of all things hard rock and heavy metal. It just so turned out the first song that would be playing, much to Evelyn's....dismay....was Five Finger Death Punch's Coming Down. Not that it was a bad song. It was just....what it reminded Evelyn of....
Right as Ivan Moody's vocals, ghostly and enigmatic, overtook the somber tone of the guitar, Evelyn stood and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hands, as if in a trance, reached for the hem of her shirt, and pulled it off of her, leaving her with just her black bra....and all the scars and cuts across her chest, her abdomen, and her back. Tenderly, she traced the jagged contours of flesh with her fingertip, wincing slightly....as though she was feeling that horrible....horrible pain yet again. This was how some fathers treated their daughters....and some mothers, right? Every claw swiping, every sword slashing, every lightning bolt and fireball blazing, searing her porcelain flesh into ugly black and red blemishes, the pain that encompassed every inch of her and left her screaming in tormented sobs.
"You're weak, Evelyn." Her father's wretched, authoritative voice would boom like thunder in the distant black clouds, his eyes narrowed with discontent towards the whimpering whelp of a girl cowering before him, blood, fresh and viscous pouring from her newly opened wounds, her clothes torn and tattered. "You are at ripe age to take my throne, and yet here you sulk at my feet like a worthless puppy. Pathetic!"
~"Mmmm it is indeed, my love."~ Her mother would chime in, salt to be poured and rubbed raw into those very wounds. ~"In fact, I don't see why we keep this pitiful excuse of a daughter around. We should just throw her to the fire and be done with her. There's no way she'll become a worthy successor to your throne, Lord Chernabog."~
"She will, Lady Mal." Chernabog snarled, his fangs peeking over his dry and calloused lips. Suddenly, his massive claw wrapped around her frail neck, lifting Evelyn into the air with nary a flinch of his rippling, hard muscles, all while she kicked and writhed, barely able to breathe. Then....he pulled her close to him, so that his eyes, like the very fires of Hell itself...was burning through her skull, were piercing into her eyes, eyes that were so full of terror towards the gargantuan behemoth...and his heinous smirk, "Her life depends on it."
Evelyn's own hands suddenly reached for her neck, tumultuous, ragged breaths ravaging her lungs and her throat with an irritable heat, believing that the hands of her father were choking the life out of her once more. She screamed, every ounce of her rage pouring out into one fist that collided with the mirror in a violent crash. She hated them....but most of all.... she hated herself.
Shards of broken mirror were buried deep in her flesh, trickles of blood dyeing her pale skin a shade of red. So many cuts, so much pain....but so numb she felt to it all.
@King Tai
One down and one to go For Anna, but the satisfaction of seeing the suka being torched was short lived. Right as she slid on her knees behind cover, scuffing them up something awful but ignoring the road burn, she hit the floor as another few rounds of 9mm shattered the car windshield and pelted the passenger door with a few resounding dings. It was a back and forth between the two, the Irish fuck opening fire every moment Anna popped her little head up to volley back with her 15.
The revving of engines and the raucous shouts of Russian curses meant the cavalry had arrived to mop up the rest of these goons. Now all Anna had to do was keep this fucker occupied till her boys put a slug in his ass.
"ey luv...how about we settle this fairly...you come out...and we have a duel...kinda like those ridiculous western movies with those cowboys and outlaws...whaddya say lass?"
What does she say? Did he think she was an idiot? The moment she bolted from cover to bash his fucking teeth in, one shot, either to kill or disable, would be all he needed. But she couldn't stay in cover longer than necessary, with him advancing slowly...and ever menacing, upon her position. She might have no choice but to take him up on his offer.
Then....another sound....coming from...her? It was her phone, vibrating in the pocket of her leather jacket, an audible buzz, but who the hell was texting her? And why the fuck did they pick this time?
She hastily yanked the small iPhone out. Of course....
/>Babe where r u?! the police r evrywr! wats going on?!
Veronika....
Anna shook her head and shoved the phone back in her pocket...but dammit, she just realized that quick text distracted her.
One down and one to go For Anna, but the satisfaction of seeing the suka being torched was short lived. Right as she slid on her knees behind cover, scuffing them up something awful but ignoring the road burn, she hit the floor as another few rounds of 9mm shattered the car windshield and pelted the passenger door with a few resounding dings. It was a back and forth between the two, the Irish fuck opening fire every moment Anna popped her little head up to volley back with her 15.
The revving of engines and the raucous shouts of Russian curses meant the cavalry had arrived to mop up the rest of these goons. Now all Anna had to do was keep this fucker occupied till her boys put a slug in his ass.
"ey luv...how about we settle this fairly...you come out...and we have a duel...kinda like those ridiculous western movies with those cowboys and outlaws...whaddya say lass?"
What does she say? Did he think she was an idiot? The moment she bolted from cover to bash his fucking teeth in, one shot, either to kill or disable, would be all he needed. But she couldn't stay in cover longer than necessary, with him advancing slowly...and ever menacing, upon her position. She might have no choice but to take him up on his offer.
Then....another sound....coming from...her? It was her phone, vibrating in the pocket of her leather jacket, an audible buzz, but who the hell was texting her? And why the fuck did they pick this time?
She hastily yanked the small iPhone out. Of course....
/>Babe where r u?! the police r evrywr! wats going on?!
Veronika....
Anna shook her head and shoved the phone back in her pocket...but dammit, she just realized that quick text distracted her.
Woooo! Carlsberg is back! The ship is setting sail again!!! \^o^/
@Demonic Angel@Framing A Moose
Evelyn scoffed at them both without a reply. She could take any of them any day, the weakling pirate and the pompous squid. Twas just....she was indulging her darker side...way too much. "As much as I would relish the sight of my wretched claws tearing you both asunder and disemboweling you, you're nothing but a waste of my time. So begone before I regret my decision to spare you." She snarled under her breath while clenching her fists tight at her sides.
Evelyn scoffed at them both without a reply. She could take any of them any day, the weakling pirate and the pompous squid. Twas just....she was indulging her darker side...way too much. "As much as I would relish the sight of my wretched claws tearing you both asunder and disemboweling you, you're nothing but a waste of my time. So begone before I regret my decision to spare you." She snarled under her breath while clenching her fists tight at her sides.
@Framing A Moose@Carlsberg
Liz frowned falling to her knees as well beside Jen, both arms tenderly wrapped around the poor girl with her head resting against her. "Jen....no. I'm sorry. I'm the one who hurt you. It's my fault.... Please don't cry anymore..." She too couldn't help but fall into tears beside her, but then she heard something. "My guitar? Oh shit!" She left it back at the apartment, and now someone had it. "Fuck! No! I need that for Friday!"
Liz frowned falling to her knees as well beside Jen, both arms tenderly wrapped around the poor girl with her head resting against her. "Jen....no. I'm sorry. I'm the one who hurt you. It's my fault.... Please don't cry anymore..." She too couldn't help but fall into tears beside her, but then she heard something. "My guitar? Oh shit!" She left it back at the apartment, and now someone had it. "Fuck! No! I need that for Friday!"
Actually eh...nevermind on the new character because I can't find any good pics dammit! DX
© 2007-2026