Avatar of SouffleGirl123

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Recent Statuses

1 mo ago
Current I play a lot of characters with daddy issues to counteract my mummy issues
2 likes
3 mos ago
Between you and me I only break my hiatuses to make sure my post rate stays above 1 post/day
10 likes
5 mos ago
A reminder you dont need to know every detail of every bad thing. Being informed is good but being consumed achieves nothing good. You're still a good person if you have boundries with bad news
10 likes
4 yrs ago
No one remembers when corn kid said 'not everyone has to love it for it to be the best' and that quote hits deep
9 likes
7 yrs ago
Never did I think I'd be avoiding my roommates to avoid getting asked why there was a fake wedding in the lounge room but here we are, thanks DnD
11 likes

Bio

Idk man i just like writing silly little stories with the silly little people in my screen

Most Recent Posts

Joan D'Arc (Joan of Arc)

Joan was nothing special growing up, she lived with her parents, Jacques d'Arc and Isabelle Romée, in Domrémy. Her father owned 50 acres of farming land, where she would often, alongside her family, work in the fields. She was 13 and working in her'father's garden' when they came, the vision of Archangel Michael, Saint Catherine, and Saint Margaret. They told her so was to drive out the English and bring the Dauphin to Reims for his coronation.

At only 16 she petitioned for permission to visit the royal court. At age 18 she led the French army to victory over the British at Orléans. A year later she was captured, the last thing she remembers was being tied to the stake, flames licking at her feet, forming blisters, then that was it. Was she dead? She expected being burnt at the stake to be... painful
“Alright, so Rin,” The older man standing in front of her, running a hand through his close cropped grey hair, quite obviously inspecting her. “Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

“I have a basic understanding, yes,” Rin replies, almost instantly, pressing her hands into the cold hard bed the Doctor’s room she was in offered, where she had seated herself.

“Did you want to know more?” the doctor asks her, slipping his pale hand into the pockets of his white coat.

“No, not until this part is over and done with,”

“And why’s that?” he asks, adjusting his oblong glasses, take a bit of interest in Rin. Rin replies, her eyes keeping a steely gaze into his
“Because I might consider backing out,”




How much time had passed? Hours? Minutes? Days? Rin awoke unsure. What she was sure of, however, was the fact her body ached from head to toe. Despite her better judgement, which urged her to remain under the stiff white sheets until she wasn’t aching so much, Rin slowly sat up, expelling slight occasional groans. Her head spun slightly as she sat, whether it was a side effect to whatever they’d done to her to link her to her chosen kaiju or just from suddenly sitting up just after waking up she was unsure. She moans, bringing a hand to her head.

“Are you alright?” came the voice of the doctor she had earlier conversed with.

“Mm-hm,” she mumbles, “A bit sore but I think I’ll be fine,”

“Good, you’re mentally linked to Baragon,” he says, “So at this time he will be mimicking your actions,”

“So pretty much don’t go anywhere or I’ll destroy a bunch of places?” At that the doctor chuckles slightly.

“Nah, we’ve got him in a cage that replicates the facility, you should be fine,” Rin just nods, running a hand through her blonde hair with a sigh. This really wasn’t the position she imagined herself in when she graduated from medical school with honours but, she supposed, doing something was better than not, even I it wasn’t what she was trained to do.
Funny you say Joan of Arc as I was gonna choose her XD. Give me a bit, I'll get a summary made
@SpookySquid We can use real people in History, right?
@Nevix aha, someone's using Jenna Coleman. The whovian fandom is everywhere XD
José Bloomer


At: The airport, plane
Interacting with: Box deliverer guy, Pilot
Date: 14th March





The days couldn't have gone slower and excitement bubbled inside of José. Her days had come and gone like clockwork. She worked 5 days at her full-time job, which was not very busy at this time of year, practiced with the guys 3 times a week, played a small gig. Nothing too out of the ordinary but the box sat there, awaiting for that special day as José was. Often she would again read over its contents reminding herself it wasn't a dream. Finally, though, the big day arrived. José had her suitcase packed and repacked... and repacked again and gone over a couple of things she needed to buy when she was in Paris, which she had saved the black card for. Her black suitcase sat on her bed, holding clothes and other holiday essentials and the wooden box, papers still inside, her large baby blue handbag leaning next to the suitcase. She placed the handbag over her shoulder before yanking the suitcase of her bed, extending the handle and dragging it to the font door, turning off all the house's power points in the process, before stepping out the door with her suitcase and locking the door to be greeted by the many flightsof stairs was to descend to get out of the building.

As she lugged her suitcase down flight after flight of José wished for the hundredth time in those 3 minutes that the building had an elevator. She reached the bottom of the steps to the lobby, the electric doors opening at her presence, and she dragged her suitcase to her small white car.

José had lifted her suitcase halfway up into the boot of her car when a taxi parked in the spot next to her. A middle age man with thinning brown hair stepped out of the car.

"Miss Bloomer?" he asks.

"Mm-hm?" José inquires, resting one corner of the suitcase on her raised leg and the opposite corner on the edge of the boot of her car.

"I'm here to take you to the airport," At this José turned to the man, the suitcase starting to feel heavy partially sitting on her leg.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I've been paid to take you to the airport, and I've arrived just in time it seems, here, let me take that for you," and without a reply he swiftly walked over to her and lifted her suitcase with ease.

"Uh, thanks," José says gently, closing up and locking her car before slipping into the front seat of the taxi.

The ride the the airport was made up of small talk and awkward silences, as most taxi rides did. José decided not to mention when the driver veered of the course for the international flights and drove onto the private area. Soon enough the Swedish man who gave her the box only 2 weeks before came into view and the driver stopped in front of him. Thanking the Driver the bright-haired adult extends the suitcase's handle and follows the Swedish man to a close-by plane. Admittedly the pair probably looked quite odd. The German man tall and buff with his close cropped, natural blonde hair in his simple black and white suit next to the short, slim José with her brightly coloured hair and her unique pink, silver and black tank top under her unzipped leather jacket and black leggings.

The Swedish man took José's case as she boarded the plane. Upon reaching the doorway she couldn't help but hold her breath. The plane was one of luxury with its few comfy seats and its mini bar and everything else it had to offer. This was a plane for the rich, not for a lower average income-earning adult, as José was. Finally she took a step into the plane not noticing the pilot who was approaching her.

"Miss Bloomer, welcome, I'm Pete and I'll be you're pilot today," he introduced himself, giving José a slight shock, and extended his hand.

"Oh, uh, hi Pete," she says, a smile widening on her face as she took his hand in hers, "Just call me José. Will anyone else be joining us?"

"José," he says, shaking her hand slightly wildly, "Nope, you're the only one flying in from Hartford, but make yourself comfortable, we have a bit of a fight ahead of us and we take off in 5 minutes," and with that the pilot left José to her own devices, She settled into one of the comfortable seats, this will be a good trip.
Getting an IC written up
101
@SouffleGirl123

NEVER! CHOOSE A SIDE, AUSSIE! DON'T BE A FENCE SITTER!!!


I did choose a side, side I-don't-give-a-damn! Unless it comes to footy, then I vouch for the ball 'cus it makes every goal!!!
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