Member
.
- Last Seen: 3 yrs ago
- Joined: 6 yrs ago
- Posts: 571 (0.27 / day)
- VMs: 3
-
Username history
- Seance 4 yrs ago
- ████████ 6 yrs ago
- ██████ 6 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
3 yrs ago
Current
obsessed w Love Alarm so if you are too let's 1x1 :*
2
likes
Bio
Most Recent Posts
.
Closed for now.
In
Steelbird Landing: A Roleplay After The End of it All [18+, 6 player limit!]
→
5 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
████████████████. . .████████████████. . .████████████████
𝑁𝑜 𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑛, 𝑛𝑜 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟.
"One, two, three, four, five, six—" Everything had gone as planned, Hemlock had used the glove appropriately, she had followed The Maelstroms instructions and had hopefully made The Maelstrom proud.. "Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven..." Her shack, this was her next destination. However, before she got there she would stop by the small, natural stream nearby. Her shack would sit snugly within the forest, the outskirts of town, an area not many ventured into. The red hooded girl slipped through the town, her pace quick, set on getting where she needed without interruption. "Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.." It wouldn't be long before gravel turned to soil, buildings turning to foliage. Hemlock scurried through the forest, checking trees for engraved "X's" that she had left long ago to find her way back and forth. Finally, the light trickle of the stream would catch her attention, the glistening of the water gleaming through the branches and brush before her. Hemlock would strip from her shift, hanging the cloak on a nearby branch before ridding her body of the rest of its garments. Now nude, she would step into the frigid water, kneeling so that it lapped at her waist. Her hands would cup, gingerly splashing the clear water across her form, palms scrubbing away at the loose dirt and blood that had speckled her skin. Content with the brief surface cleansing, Hemlock would rise to return to her cloak where she would retrieve a small pouch that held a handful of orange peels, a jar of ground salt, and a small vile of lavender oil. She had traded her poisons and hallucinogens for the salt and orange peels, the lavender oil something she had created herself. Gathering the items, Hemlock would find her spot in the water once more, pouring a small mound of salt onto her palm followed by a drop of lavender oil and an orange peel. This mixture would be rubbed against every portion of her skin, the roughness of the salt scratching away at any grim the water couldn't take off. She had to be pure for The Maelstrom, that meant striping her skin of any filth that had gathered throughout the day.
It wasn't long before her skin was spotless, a red hue left behind from the intense scrubbing that had occurred. Her hair was next, a similar routine following before she was able to step out of the water. The items used for cleansing were then left by her cloak as she made her way towards her shack that sat only a few feet nearby. Clothes were unnecessary for the ritual, she was at her purist form when she was nude, vulnerable to The Maelstrom. Hemlock entered her shack, rummaging through a bin that held various items. She grasped a blade, its surface blackened, charred as if it had been caressed by a flame, over and over again. This, a candle, and another small pouch were the only items she needed, her body finding a place knelt in the center of the shack. The candle would come to life with the use of two stones, a spark lighting a piece of paper aflame, the paper used to light the wick. As the flame licked hungrily at the air, Hemlock began to speak, the same language she had muttered to the man when she wore the glove. The blade she held dipped into the fire, the metal heating, turning a bright vermilion color before it was withdrawn from the smoldering heat, used to rid the blade of potential infectious bacteria. Hemlock placed the scorching metal against her palm, slicing at the skin of her right hand before doing the same to the left. The blade clattered to the floor, her hands fumbling to pull out a sprig of salvia divinorum, which was then placed in her mouth and chewed. The sprig was a psychoactive, used to achieve an altered state of consciousness, perfect for contacting The Maelstrom and opening her mind...
. . .𝑶𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏. . .
Fog ... thick, suffocating fog.
It materializes out of thin air, rolling in at a painfully slow pace.
It consumes everything around it, Hemlock is surrounded by a murky haze.
It clings hungrily to her skin, sticky, so eager to grab at anything within its reach.
The words are wept, rattling somewhere within the haze, the voice belonging to The Maelstrom, concealed by the fogs thick consistency.
Suddenly, the fog splits, like a blade slicing through butter and a figure appears, a man adorning the head of a wolf, large antlers sprawling out proudly into the air. The mans jaws part in a sickening manner, unhinging like a serpent. As the man approaches a movement can be seen from his throat, within the darkness of the mans mouth a head appears, Key's head resting in the mans jaws.
Key's head disappears once more, retracting into the mans throat. Eerie silence follows before hands are abruptly placed on Hemlock's shoulders. The mans grip is harsh and without warning Hemlock's own head follows Key's, devoured by the jaws of The Maelstrom just as she is roused from her reverie.
It materializes out of thin air, rolling in at a painfully slow pace.
It consumes everything around it, Hemlock is surrounded by a murky haze.
It clings hungrily to her skin, sticky, so eager to grab at anything within its reach.
"𝑲𝑬𝒀 𝑾𝑰𝑳𝑳 𝑹𝑬𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑳𝑽𝑬𝑺,"
The words are wept, rattling somewhere within the haze, the voice belonging to The Maelstrom, concealed by the fogs thick consistency.
Suddenly, the fog splits, like a blade slicing through butter and a figure appears, a man adorning the head of a wolf, large antlers sprawling out proudly into the air. The mans jaws part in a sickening manner, unhinging like a serpent. As the man approaches a movement can be seen from his throat, within the darkness of the mans mouth a head appears, Key's head resting in the mans jaws.
"𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔.
𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔. 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔. 𝑨𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔, 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈.
𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑮𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔. 𝑨𝒕. 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆. 𝑨𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔."
𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔. 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔. 𝑨𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔, 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈.
𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑮𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔. 𝑨𝒕. 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆. 𝑨𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔."
Key's head disappears once more, retracting into the mans throat. Eerie silence follows before hands are abruptly placed on Hemlock's shoulders. The mans grip is harsh and without warning Hemlock's own head follows Key's, devoured by the jaws of The Maelstrom just as she is roused from her reverie.
Hemlock's eyes open with abruptness, darting around the room as she attempted to regather her thoughts. Crimson trickled down her forearms and across her bare thighs, the slits in her palms the faucet. Hemlock's skin shifted to a ghastly hue, she appeared sickly, drained from what she had just seen and the loss of blood. Her chest heaved rapidly, perspiration beading over her forehead and breasts. It only took a short moment before her composure was recollected, her body shifting to stand on legs of jello. She stumbled towards a desk, clumsily fumbling to open a drawer to retrieve bandages. Before the wounds were cleansed and covered, her hands would shakily rise to her face, pressing against her skin to smear the blood from her hairline to her jaw.
"Thank you Maelstrom.."
████████████████. . .████████████████. . .████████████████
In
Steelbird Landing: A Roleplay After The End of it All [18+, 6 player limit!]
→
5 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
████████████████. . .████████████████. . .████████████████
𝑁𝑜 𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑛, 𝑛𝑜 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟.
People, people everywhere. Hemlock hated crowds, she despised the cluster of skin, the heat that emanated from their presence, sticking hungrily to her. Just the thought made the young woman groan, rubbing absentmindedly at her bare arms as she continued forward. She could see people going about their day, minding their business, completely unaware of the events that would soon unfold, commanding their eyes to stare, their bodies to shift and swarm like a pack of malnourished wolves. But for now, all that stood before her was a tent, the mouth of the cloth hut drawn shut to conceal whoever was within. Without second thought, feet would push on, a glove clad hand swiping the tarp that covered the entrance, to the side. Within the tent was a man, his name unknown and entirely irrelevant to Hemlock. He was disposable, his life merely a chess piece within this grand game of life. The Maelstrom had given Hemlock specific directions, whispering the details of a very intricate plan, right into her eager ears. The girl stood before the man, his face twisting and contorting in confusion. He opened his mouth to speak but was silenced by Hemlocks own voice.
"Don't speak, I do not wish to hear your words man, listen and you will benefit from this interaction." She spoke smoothly, her voice clear, stern and backed by so much power. She stepped forward every so slightly, eyes of vibrant emerald scanned the man, their glare cold, unfeeling.
"A man will be coming here soon, he seeks destruction, he believes you are a small, worthless man. He will confront you, fight you, you will not fight back and he will not stop until you bleed every last drop of your blood.." Her voice continued on, each word bringing her figure closer to the man who sat bewildered. Her glove clad hand would rise once she was within reaching distance, placed gently upon First's cheek. The man's eyes grew once Hemlock had finished speaking, her bare hand would find its place on the opposite side of his head and a series of words would spew from the woman's mouth. Most were inaudible, likely another language. The glove, known as the Violation Glove, would come to life, three circular portions glowing, a mechanical whir purring from the once silent device. Hemlock continued the chant that fell so effortlessly from her lips, the mans head fixed between her hands, hindering his ability to move. The power that the glove held was dark, its depths unknown, its abilities foreign. Hemlock knew little of what she was doing, following orders like a bewitched soldier, her faith in The Maelstrom, something that was nearly impossible to sever.
As soon as the chanting had started, it ended. The man sat with his eyes shut for a long while, his body slumped where he had previously been sitting. Hemlock wasted no time in waiting, slinking from the tent and into the streets. She would stay near, awaiting the arrival of another by the name of Pepsi. The Maelstrom spoke of him often, his dark intent, his appetite for blood. The Maelstrom's plan was difficult to understand, why this man, First, had to die was not something Hemlock would question however. It wasn't long before the anticipated man would present himself, bursting into the tent without second thought. One could hear gruff voices clashing, a shriek and then the image of Pepsi, dragging First out like an animal dragging his prey. First appeared terrified but did not fight back as Hemlock had instructed, the glove aiding her in putting First in this bewitched state. A crowd would soon gather as Pepsi continued his assault, tossing First around like a rag doll. Hemlock slithered in among the people, finding her place near the front, eyeing the scene, awaiting its finale to confirm her job had been done.
It wasn't long before First had gone still, his prior movements ceasing once and for all. Just as instructed, First had allowed his death, allowed his blood to seep from his body by the hand of Pepsi. The finale would come as expected, a rabid Pepsi plunging the bottle that had been used to slice away at First, deep into his motionless body once more. The force of the blow would send blood spraying, like rain, it would speckle every surface, beads of crimson misting Hemlock's pale skin. She grinned a grin so devilish, so entirely content with herself and the success of her "mission" from The Maelstrom. She would linger no more, pulling the red hood of her cloak over her head before dismissing herself from the scene. Now she would be required to return to her home and perform a ritual, informing The Maelstrom of her triumphant endeavor.
████████████████. . .████████████████. . .████████████████
In
Steelbird Landing: A Roleplay After The End of it All [18+, 6 player limit!]
→
5 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Interested! Posted my CS, fingers crossed.
In
Steelbird Landing: A Roleplay After The End of it All [18+, 6 player limit!]
→
5 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Blewp
@Argetlam350@ibecameinsane No worries! Take your time.
© 2007-2024