slint Member
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- Old Guild Username: slint
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
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- slint 12 yrs ago
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seriously don't worry about it! lol. I don't care too much about stuff like that.
I fear I may fall asleep soon so I posted what I had, I'll finish it later tomorrow.
this is all getting p exciting!
this is all getting p exciting!
Light scattered across the bed in stray pockets and a breeze shook the window’s tapestry with stale energy. Climbing through the open glass came sounds of the night beyond, they taunted, in more ways than one. Sounds of a successful night on the town, sounds of a victim lost in the dark; none of this kept Colin awake. No, instead it had been that sinking feeling, something which stirred deep within his viscera. Despite this all of this, his burly body remained cocooned like a fat caterpillar, dressed in white sheet.
"Fuck it."
Colin stretched, a sleepy bear in the slab of queen mattress he had all for himself. He slid in curt movements out from the silk sheets, re-alined his crotch, and honed straight for the glow of the bathroom's open frame. There was a rhythmic dripping that didn't reveal itself until his eyes had adjusted to the clouded white that shone around the bathroom's vanity. Ah, there it was.
He leaned over the toilet, holding himself up with one hand pointed straight against the wall.
...
Colin caught streams of freezing water from the sink and washed any doubts away from consciousness. He smirked at his reflection, staring back was a still-sexy, hardened man. He was someone the general public would assume "had been through some shit," from his broken nose - received the first time he was kidnapped by a hostile gang - to the other scars, the ones many ladies have seen but have never asked about.
He stuttered out from the bathroom and moved in little thuds across the old hardwood, the wood squealed at his every step. He grabbed the wardrobe's door and it creaked open. Laid on the shelves were a bunch of white shirts, a few long-sleeves, and some sweaters. Colin reached under the shelf, grabbed the second drawer and pulled it open to reveal a rectangular sea of dark denim, he snatched a pair and shook them out before sliding into the perfectly hemmed jeans. There was one thing Colin took from his father and that was to "always find yourself - no matter where you end up in life, kehd - a good-ass tailor." Apparently there were "no excuses" for anything otherwise.
...
He listen to the crowd swell over cheap beers and shots of whiskey, rather disinterested in the fight going on behind him. Though he preferred seeing bands at The Spit the fights were cool enough, but for tonight he was looking for something different.
Colin stirred the whiskey with brief circular motions and let it fall down his throat. He slammed the glass on the table, beckoning for another.
"Fuck it."
Colin stretched, a sleepy bear in the slab of queen mattress he had all for himself. He slid in curt movements out from the silk sheets, re-alined his crotch, and honed straight for the glow of the bathroom's open frame. There was a rhythmic dripping that didn't reveal itself until his eyes had adjusted to the clouded white that shone around the bathroom's vanity. Ah, there it was.
He leaned over the toilet, holding himself up with one hand pointed straight against the wall.
...
Colin caught streams of freezing water from the sink and washed any doubts away from consciousness. He smirked at his reflection, staring back was a still-sexy, hardened man. He was someone the general public would assume "had been through some shit," from his broken nose - received the first time he was kidnapped by a hostile gang - to the other scars, the ones many ladies have seen but have never asked about.
He stuttered out from the bathroom and moved in little thuds across the old hardwood, the wood squealed at his every step. He grabbed the wardrobe's door and it creaked open. Laid on the shelves were a bunch of white shirts, a few long-sleeves, and some sweaters. Colin reached under the shelf, grabbed the second drawer and pulled it open to reveal a rectangular sea of dark denim, he snatched a pair and shook them out before sliding into the perfectly hemmed jeans. There was one thing Colin took from his father and that was to "always find yourself - no matter where you end up in life, kehd - a good-ass tailor." Apparently there were "no excuses" for anything otherwise.
He listen to the crowd swell over cheap beers and shots of whiskey, rather disinterested in the fight going on behind him. Though he preferred seeing bands at The Spit the fights were cool enough, but for tonight he was looking for something different.
Colin stirred the whiskey with brief circular motions and let it fall down his throat. He slammed the glass on the table, beckoning for another.
Hmm. I may do a duel intro post with my two characters, but the bio for Elle will come tomorrow!
Name: Colin Barker
Age: 36
Personal Details:
Colin’s not too sure anymore, about a lot of things; there's a lot that doesn't feel like it used to.
It all started in the golden years - the years when he was still a punk-youth with the jock body, toting a pure mind and a huge heart - with the girl he fell in love with. He DJ'd at a club she frequented and one night, for whatever reason, she decided to B-line it for the booth and chat him up between sets. The rest is rom-com history... though one addled with drugs.
Ana was in a gang, some real scuzzy shit. He lived in a slightly better (but arguably similar) neighborhood next to hers; he hung around some sketchy places, saw some unlawful shit, but never himself dabbled much in that life. Meeting Ana changed all of that; she opened his eyes to a world of quick profit, fast living, and false company.
She screwed him. Completely. Every. Which. Way. A job went wrong and she fucking left him there, she was told to and she did it. He almost stayed there forever, clutching his shoulder on the dirtied mosaic of black and white tiles. Colin placed everything he was into Ana; she became the reason, he no longer had to search for what his life could be or what it could mean. When she left he reverted to days of the past.
His adult life in New Ancora is not too different from how it was before he met Ana. When he's not buried under a case Colin is usually: drinking, grabbing a bite, catching a show, looking for drugs, looking for someone to spend the night with, looking for where exactly down the line he lost himself, or if he had ever found himself at all.
Occupation: Detective
District: 17
Additional:
Age: 36
Personal Details:
Colin’s not too sure anymore, about a lot of things; there's a lot that doesn't feel like it used to.
It all started in the golden years - the years when he was still a punk-youth with the jock body, toting a pure mind and a huge heart - with the girl he fell in love with. He DJ'd at a club she frequented and one night, for whatever reason, she decided to B-line it for the booth and chat him up between sets. The rest is rom-com history... though one addled with drugs.
Ana was in a gang, some real scuzzy shit. He lived in a slightly better (but arguably similar) neighborhood next to hers; he hung around some sketchy places, saw some unlawful shit, but never himself dabbled much in that life. Meeting Ana changed all of that; she opened his eyes to a world of quick profit, fast living, and false company.
She screwed him. Completely. Every. Which. Way. A job went wrong and she fucking left him there, she was told to and she did it. He almost stayed there forever, clutching his shoulder on the dirtied mosaic of black and white tiles. Colin placed everything he was into Ana; she became the reason, he no longer had to search for what his life could be or what it could mean. When she left he reverted to days of the past.
His adult life in New Ancora is not too different from how it was before he met Ana. When he's not buried under a case Colin is usually: drinking, grabbing a bite, catching a show, looking for drugs, looking for someone to spend the night with, looking for where exactly down the line he lost himself, or if he had ever found himself at all.
Occupation: Detective
District: 17
Additional:
both look great!
I'm going to make a bio/post for one of my characters, probably won't do the other one till tomorrow. bah, but first.. need to go to the laundromat :///
I'm going to make a bio/post for one of my characters, probably won't do the other one till tomorrow. bah, but first.. need to go to the laundromat :///
sorry guise, twas buried under much coursework. :/
Gonzo said
I would assume there would be museums. Not sure how they would display the items. Probably like a regular museum.
Self aware robots? Look at Ghost's post x)
I think religion would exist, but not sure.
There wouldn't be a gang like the ones in the lower district. Like Slint said, they would probably the mafia type. More upscale, you know?I would assume that there are
banks, but I don't think money is the way it is now.
I would think something like a card or something allows people to get their money now, instead of having just cash.
Music: Look at the clubs described.
Hookers: Probably still real life humans.
Slang that is used? Probably the Slang we use now.
you answered everything pretty much exactly how I would've responded, lol.
@smile
I'm sure there would be people that follow religions from the older world.
Music is pretty much the same as its been, it doesn't need to be restricted to the few nightclubs I spat out. Everything from ambient, black metal, wonky electro, pop, and juke + footwork.
Slang is similar to now, similar to the past; I'd suppose it's a mix of anything and everything.
All apps in here look good so if you've posted consider yourself in. Just woke up and I'm surprised it's this early, gonna work on my bios.
In
My friends want to get a guy a keg full of tequila for his 18th party...
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12 yrs ago
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