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"Commander.

I cannot do it anymore. You promised us, you promised these children that all we would be doing is helping them, and we've done nothing but hurt them. This letter is my resignation, if you have not figured it out; I am willing to lose my job, my life because of what we've done to these children.

Commander, you know as well as I do that we deserve to die for what we've done to these children. We deserve to burn below the Earth. If I die in at least partially righting my wrong, so be it. I realize that there cannot be salvation for what we've done. We could fix their flesh, but we could never fix what has been done to their minds.

As you read this, I will be gone. Most likely, the children will be gone, too. I will not tell you how I let them out, I will not reveal where I told them to go or what to do to escape. All I will tell you is that I helped them to the best of my ability, and that every moment until my grave I will be praying that they escaped and that you cannot find them.

You know, deep in your heart, what we've done here was wrong. You say it is for science but you know, you know that it's not. This is not science, this is torture. Every moment you try and make it go on, Commander, is another nail in your coffin. These children are strong, stronger than you know. I spent months with them. They are strong, and they will defeat you.

Sincerely, Cain Weyland, Lead Director of Science and Research."

The escape had begun and the guards were searching by the time the letter had been found. In the wing where the subjects were being held, a letter had been placed, a copy of the same, into each of their cells earlier that day.​

"Subjects, you do not know who I am. My name is Dr. Cain Weyland, and I apologize, apologize from the deepest wells of my heart for what has transpired in this facility. You did not deserve any of this, none of you. That is why I am going to help you escape. During the scheduled socializing time and recreation time, you will discover that there will be no guards. They have been told it has been cancelled for today. The North guard's office will be unlocked and a guard will be asleep, drugged inside of it. Take his pistol and his assault rifle, and find whatever other weapons you can in the room. Bind him so that he cannot raise an alarm and use his ID card to bypass the card scanner. After that I cannot help you; all I can offer you is advice. Find the Artifact Room and the Security Arms Office and use his card to gain entry. There you will find weapons. By then, they will have most certainly figured out your escape, and you must rely on your ingenuity to find your way out of this facility. I have faith that you will prevail. Trust nothing that is said to you."

The cryptic letter was delivered three hours ago, shoved through a grate in the door in the early hours of the morning. The doors will automatically open within a minute.

What will you do?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Backstory:

It is cliche, but it works. Kidnapping children whom no one cares about, that no one know; children off the street that no one would miss. It happened, and in a blur of motion, the children taken were transported off of Earth. Darkhep 3 was what they named the planet, where they first discovered the ancient hunting grounds of Alien and Predator, had recovered the first, acid-eroded bodies of the defeated Aliens and their hunters. They were not welcome on the planet, though for now they were accepted; they had their base on an island in the southern part of the primarily jungle-covered planet, somewhere where almost no Predators or Aliens went. The mainland was visible from their island, though trecherous waves buffeted the rocks that surrounded the island. To escape was hard. The children all gave up their plans of escape long ago, however; those kids, ranging from ages 14 to 19, were held there for years.

It is said that, in the future, genetic modification can be expanded to include not just plants but people; Weyland-Yutani pursued this concept doggedly and succeeded. A group of survivors who came to be called as The Mixers, overcame the crippling deficits that were placed upon them and thrived as much as they could. It was already proved that they could take xenomorph DNA and splice it with people; the clone of Ridley Scott and the human-mixed xenomorph incident proved that. However, the results were ugly and rough-they gave up the project until a revolutionary idea came about. Instead of mutating the xenomorph, mutate the human. That's what they did.

Using samples of both Predator and xenomorph DNA, they changed these children in the name of science. What started as a scientific experiment became so much more, however, when they would drag out the changes. They mastered the art of a complete and utter species change, though when the Mixers came about and demonstrated the ability to survive being shoved in the middle, that's what they took a new interest in. Every teenager there has something different that's been changed about them. They had dreamed of escape for the years they'd been imprisoned, and now it's finally come.

Except will they make it out of the facility? If they do, where will they go? How will they make it to the mainland? From there, how will they get back to Earth?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Case Files:

HTML:

[SIZE="1"]Full Name: [Last, First]
Age: [14-19]
Gender: [Male/Female]
Role: [Mixer, Scientist, Alien, Predator]
Species: [Human, xenomorph, Predator, Mixer with [insert race here, can only be one]
Height: [{feet}',{inches}"]
Hair color: [Brown, black, etc]
Eye color: [If any.]
Aspects Shifted: [If a Mixer, describe what has happened to you.]
Weapon of Choice: [Be appropriate. For Mixers, the following weapons are available (one each): Wrist blades, Smart Disk, Combi Stick, Pulse Rifle (equivalent of a machine gun) Pulse Shotgun, or [Pulse Scoped Rifle is now taken].
I.D. Photo: [Url link, please.]
Personality Traits: [Few sentences.]
Biography: [At least a paragraph.]Other: [Other.][/SIZE]

Profiles

Spoiler

Profiles

Weapon Descriptions:

Spoiler

Wristblades: Two of the same weapon. It attaches onto someone's forearm and has three buckles that one pulls tight; at a motion and a squeezing of the trigger(pressed against the palm by the top of the wrist bracer), three wickedly long blades come out from the top, curling over the hands and providing a deadly close-range weapon.

Smart Disk: This disk can be thrown with or without the guiding laser. For newcomers, however, the laser is almost completely crucial. It comes with a pair of gloves to defend the user's hand. Like a shuriken, this bladed star can be thrown and will follow a laser that emits from the user's glove. It takes a lot of practice to master, due to trying to control it while it's going forwards and backwards; when it is mastered, however, the weapon has the ability to mortally wound multiple people.

Combi Stick: This javelin-like object is perhaps one of the Predator's most powerful weapons. It can be used either short-range or long, and is utterly demolishing; when it is thrown, the gloves that the user is wearing sends a signal for the javelin to come back. It will return from as far as the user can throw it, though they have to be careful; it's not uncommon for young Predators that attempt to use the Combi Stick to get bruises all over their arms and torso. While it's strong enough (it's a partially self-propelling device, like the Smart Disk) to impale someone and nail them to a wall, it takes a long time to retrieve and use again, and cannot really be used for multiple targets unless they're in a line. A hit-or-miss weapon, albeit one with titanic power.

Human ammunition is required for all guns below.

Pulse Rifle: This all-purpose gun is a necessity for any Marine. It is fully automatic with a high rate of fire, and the magazines hold one hundred bullets each; it has minimal kickback and is a good gun for anyone to use. An underbarrel grenade launcher can be employed if one can find that kind of ammunition, and causes an explosion equivalent to that of a hand grenade. Good anywhere from close to medium range, though once things get long range it gets difficult to hit things.

Pulse Shotgun: This gun is a lifesaver for those that aren't good with sharpshooting. This double-barrel shotgun can defend you well in a close group against multiple targets with its' eight round clip; the gun has to be pumped after each shot. The power diminishes rapidly with how far the creature moves away, though because xenomorphs and Predators both sometimes need to get close to finish someone off, the alternative double-barrel fire can demolish anything that's within a meter of the shooter.

Pulse Scoped Rifle[taken]: This gun is a definate hit-or-miss, much like the Combi Stick. The scope equipped on it outlines both xenomorphic and normal heat signatures; it is a single-shot gun. It is extremely accurate and can kill with a single shot if done in the right place; even if it misses, the large caliber bullets can make a serious wound that often can't be recovered from. It can demolish groups from far away, though close and medium range fighting is almost completely out of the question with it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Planet:​

Darkhep 3 is almost completely jungle. From the Equator, about three-quarters of the planet in both directions is coated in lush forestry. Temperatures cn range from 36 to 130 degrees, perfect for thick wildlife to flourish among the probably poisonous flora of the place. It is a hard existence, surviving outside of a Predator village; beasts and weather and everything was against you. The Poles of the planet have water on them, though the rest of the planet is almost completely solid land.

Open. Yeeeeah.​

​

It was on a bitterly cold, though altogether typical New England night that 22-year-old Alice Rembrandt was murdered in her home, poetically strangled and left upon the floor of her reading room. Her hair was not disheveled, scraps of flesh or splinters from her cherry hardwood floors were not found under her fingernails; one hand lay gently across her chest, the other on her side, resting peacefully on the floor. Her feet pointed towards the ceiling, perfectly perpendicular to the wood beneath her; everything about her was immensely peaceful except for the dramatic, sickeningly elegant throw of her head to the side, her eyebrows so barely furrowed together in a postmortem lament. A copy of Joseph Conrad's Heart Of Darkness lay beside her in the clean shadows cast from her windows so that two pages were visible, naked like her body except for an almost ostentatious white tanktop and underwear. Particularly underlined, as if with a ruler, was a single quotation from the book; "and for a moment it seemed to me as if I also was buried in a vast grave full of unspeakable secrets. I felt an intolerable weight oppressing my breast, the smell of the damp earth, the unseen presence of victorious corruption, the darkness of an impenetrable night."

When the police found her body, they ruled that she'd been strangled with a wire-like structure. They wrote it off as a suicide, because a single shoelace had been removed from her favorite pair of shoes. The shoelace's origins rested next to the chair that she had fallen next to, and the wool was modified into a domestic weapon of death. A single piece of wood was carefully wound into the shoelace, so that she could reach behind her and turn it, ensuring that she would continue to be deprived of oxygen even after she passed out from the lack of air to her brain. The book was confiscated as, first, evidence and then given to her mother, her only living relative, as her suicide note. Unable to bear the pain, the woman, distressed with grief, placed the book in her daughter's bookshelf and never looked at it again. The police mounted a brief homicide investigation, though with the absense of evidence of a struggle (the neck's placement was determined to be a result of the fall), Alice's known love of the dramatic, often macabre attitude, fervent love of Conrad's novella and the lack of struggle wounds quickly ended the investigation.

The funeral was to be scheduled for two weeks later, so that the coroner could prepare room in his schedule and cosmetically erase the black bruise, thin but deep, on her neck. Normalcy slowly prepared to return to the town of Greytide, Massachusets, though those that had known Alice knew that even after her funeral, things would have the eerie air of something sinister, something dark about them. Exactly one week after her death, five of Alice's closest friends recieved, left on their doorstep, a copy of Heart of Darkness. Upon a curious opening of the book, they would each find one quote underlined in each of their respective novellas, each different from another friend, along with, perhaps most chilling, the very same quote underlined at Alice's crime scene in each of their books, as well.

To the five friends, it is disturbingly clear that Alice did not, could not have comitted suicide despite what the police said. Someone had killed her. Someone had killed her with the purposeful intent of making it seem like a suicide and alerting those closest to her-those that already had the bestial inkling that something was amiss- that she had been killed for a reason, and such a reason was meant for them to find out. The police would never consider such trivial evidence as a book left at a doorstep; anyone could underline. With alarmingly little and generously ambiguous trails to follow, the dark death of Alice Rembrandt is swiftly fading into the dark river of history, that terrible, watery road that leads into the heart of an impenetrable darkness.


~


The characters in the journey of Alice's life and death are those of dramatic and dynamic disposition. The absurd thought that, perhaps, someone or something had picked you for this role flashed through your brain as you hear a policeman's voice droning in your ear.

HTML:

[size=1][b]Name, please.[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Your age, once again?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Your gender is what, again? It's just protocol.[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Height?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Weight?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Your favorite book?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Song?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Your likes and dislikes?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Religious and sexual affiliation?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Current partner/romantic interest, if any?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Your relation to Alice Rembrandt?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Where were you on the night of the murder?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]A short biography of your life with Alice, if you would?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]A recent photo of you would be great, thanks.[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Anything else we should know about you?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Any online aliases?[/b] {Delete this, including the brackets, when you reply. This is your username.} [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color][/size]

Roles Taken:

Civilian Files:
1) Best Guy Friend

Spoiler

Name, please. "Samuel LaFayette Corinx."
Your age, once again? "Twenty-two."
Your gender is what, again? It's just protocol. "Male. Thanks for asking."
Height? "Six foot 7 inches."
Weight? "One hundred and eighty four pounds."
Your favorite book? "Elegance of the Hedgehog. Muriel Barbery."
Song? "I don't know how that pertains, exactly, but Pretend by Lights."
Your likes and dislikes? "I enjoy literature, music, and art. I do not enoy spiders, the thought of drowning, or peppers."
Religious and sexual affiliation? "I'm straight, and a general Christian."
Current partner/romantic interest, if any? "Um. None."
Your relation to Alice Rembrandt? "One of her closest friends. Not a romantic interest, though. Just...just a close friend."
Where were you on the night of the murder? "I was at home, watching a recorded set of Being Human episodes."
A short biography of your life with Alice, if you would? "Well, we met in elementary school. Fifth grade, actually, when I immigrated from Canada. We were both in the highest reading group, so we were paired up in a certain part of the room. She was always a nice girl, albeit a little quiet. I could tell that she acted differently to everyone that she knew, really. Still. We didn't talk much throughout middle school, though our friendship kind of rekindled in freshman year in high school; we were alone in a lot of our classes, no other friends.

We graduated with a lot of the same classes, except I went down the road of creative writing, fiction writing, and art while she...well, I don't know. I never inquired as to what Alice did in college, but it was something literature related, I think...Perhaps it was book editing. Yes, I think it was that. Anyway. We kept in close touch. We went to various cafes a lot to talk about different stuff, discuss books we'd read, stuff like that. It's a little strange to know that we can't do that anymore."
A recent photo of you would be great, thanks. "Here you go, officer. http://i232.photobucket.com/albums/ee224/Demonic_darkwolf/Male_Stock_4_by_Katanaz_Stock-1.jpg[/img]]It's on the internet, on this URL."
Anything else we should know about you? "I'm severely arachnophobic."
Any online aliases? "Yeah. My username on everything's always BlackAndWhiteIsClassic."

Upon leaving the policeman's office, you see a strangely old document pinned up to the exit door.


~

PROTOCOL:​

1. All participators in this place be respectful and stay completely away from Codirectors Godmod and Powerplay.

2. All case reports must be literate, with at least a hefty, two-paragraph legnth, and acceptable formatting for said report. Colors and pictures are encouraged.

3. All discussion between participators in this place is strictly forbidden. Absolutely no discussion should go on between members of the roleplay, pertaining to elements of the RP, unless it is harmless public chatter in the OOC thread.

4. Please report immediately to Director Of Pride And Other Things for discussion of your role in this crime.

5. Please be respectful and curteous to all on staff.

6. All questions should be directed towards Director Of Pride And Other Things.

7. There is a signifigant chance that the murderer will never be found out. However, Director Of Pride And Other Things does believe you are all more than capable to figure out who it is.

8. If two characters discuss something away from everyone else, please do not pretend like you heard it or have a magical intiution to know what they are talking about.

9. I will reiterate this. You will know who you are. DO NOT reveal secrets told in confidentiality between Director Of Pride And Other Things and yourself to anyone at all! This scene is MEANT to keep players in the dark about each other. Do not ruin it by conversing, even if you are friends.

10. Suspect all. Leave no trail of evidence unfollowed, even if you must go alone or with only one friend. Please consult Director BlackAndWhiteIsClassic if you wish to follow a trail of what you consider evidence; he will have you post your folllowing of the first step, then PM you or whoever you're partnering with as to what you found.

11. Keep your friends close. Keep your friends closer.


~



Timeline:



October 18th: Alice's Death.
Current Date: October 25th.
Alice's Funeral: November 1

Oh, my.
So, I've begun reading this book called One Hundred And One Ways by Mako Yoshikawa.
It alternates between twenty-first century America and old Japan, switching between the stories of a modern, Japanese-American woman who's (mostly) thoroughly Americanized named Yukiko and her grandmother, whom she is named for, who has been sold into the geisha world.
While the storyline is rather slow(in a good way) and very slice-of-life, the writing style is amazing. While I'm probably going to sound rather superficial in this statement, her writing is very...Japanese. It's so elegant and smooth without the use of bombastic diction, and it flows so easily when it's read. It's an incredible book-I haven't been able to put it down for the past few days.

My signature is...
Tiny.
Much smaller than it was sent to me in a signature, and I'm really not sure how to make it bigger. D:

I just wanted to know the forum's opinion on people like Jackson Pollock and other abstract artists.
Many people don't see it as art, rather, as the unintelligent splattering of paint over a canvas. In my opinion, it's art. No one had done it before-it was creative and intelligent, very new.
Opinions?

I'm kind of tired of all the roleplays on here that are really semi-literate, and those that are literate are often like families and I am not interested in the plotline.
As a result, this was born!
Hurray!
I'm looking for a couple good roleplayers to do a one on one roleplay, either over the forums or over Private messages. Maybe romance and action, I'd like to plan out some ideas over Private Messages. Thanks!

Prologue​

I used to love sunsets, you know. I used to admire the way the sun, firey and poud, slowly sunk beneath the humble horizon, lighting the landscape ablaze in a last, spectacular convergence of glory. The red color that spread across the horizon as if by a painter's brush used to make my heart pound in wonder and admiration. I think it reminded me of Mom's hair. My hair. The ghosts of the past seemed to well up from the wooden porch beneath me, and for a moment I could feel her hand on my shoulder, her comforting arm around my shoulder. I pushed the memories back into the recesses of my mind before they could cause too much damage, letting out a shaky breath as the cherry across the horizon turned instead to a splatter of blood.

Perhaps it was what happened to Jake and me that ruined sunsets. I watched as the gnarled, contorted hands of the brush clawed at the sun's virgin hide, dragging it down into the bowels of the black earth. In a last attempt to burn off the restraints, the sun engulfed the ground, the weeds, the pine trees in a burst of flame. I thought for a moment I was going to burn up in the holy blaze, wings expanding behind me in some kind of plea to the divine. It was then that the sun finally died below the horizon, its absense a black hole that destroyed all color from the world. Closing my eyes, I lowered my head a little bit, feeling a few loose strands of my scarlet brush my cheek.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note: I wish I knew how to indent on this website. D:​

I just watched it, recorded from yesterday.
I literally screamed "Holy balls!" at my television.
I love that show, honestly.

Indeed!
I'd like to collaborate with an artist.
I'd be glad to repay you with money (mail order), and/or writing a custom piece of literature for you!
<3
Yepyep!

I'd like for this picture to be used and scaled, with these words:

It's not that you don't know how to deal with people...
It's that no one ever took the time to deal with you.

I'm not afraid to save or damn the world.
My name is {Scott Grey}, and
I'm {19} years old.
I am a {male},
who looks like this. {Shoulder length black hair, I'm a bit over six feet tall, dark brown eyes, I'm rather thin, and I'm always seen wearing a leather jacket.}
I'm a {master)} in this world, and I control {light}
I think that {*insert name of someone*} and I will get along really well.
I admit, I like {conflict}, but I fraggin' hate {having absolutely nothing to do.}
I act a little...{strange and absent-minded. I often make comments about whatever situation I find myself in regardless of whether or not someone is around to hear me out or not. I tend to follow my sense in logic and any who disagree with me will most likely be ignored. I've been told that I have an ego but I think it's warranted seeing as how I'm rarely proven wrong.}
My childhood? Oh, it was like this! {My family wasn't the worst out there, my parents raised me and took care of me like how any mother and father should. I wasn't too well off but I wasn't at the bottom of the food chain either. If I could sum it all up in one word, I could say my life was dull. Nothing seemed to happen in it and even though my older brother would constantly pick fights with me, we still managed to survive and get on with our lives. My brother seemed to be my parents' favorite child. He was obedient, did everything they asked of him, and seemed to blend in very well with those around him.

I on the other hand was a bit of a problem child. If someone made a comment I didn't like, I would lash out. Maybe a little too much at times I suppose. I was a bit too open about whatever my views were and I bothered a lot of people over the years. Although I could say I got in a lot of fights, they were never anything big. Just throw in a few punches, maybe a dodge here or there, and see who would back out first so I can't say I'm any expert when it comes to fighting. Now about the recent happenings...I'll leave that to myself. I've given out too much information about my past anyways.}
I really love {the color white. Despite the fact that I wear so much black, I can't help the fact that white is my favorite color.}
and I think my guardian angel's name is {Terra}
Oh, yeah! Wait! {"For You" by Staind}
Wish me luck.

I'm not afraid to save or damn the world.​

My name is {Gwendolyn Pierce}, and
I'm {Nineteen} years old.
I am a {Female},
who looks like this. {A picture for you~<3}
I'm a {Weapon} in this world, and I control {Illusion}
I think that {Parker} and I will get along really well.
I admit, I like {Frosting, time alone, the sky, the color purple, short conversations, and the warm}, but I fraggin' hate {loud noises, impatience, ignorance, children, and sand.}
I act a little...{Stubborn sometimes, rude--but mainly under stress, and I can be a bit confusing when it comes to how I'm really feeling.}
My childhood? Oh, it was like this! {Gwen grew up into a family consisting of two older, twin, sisters and an average mother and father. Her parents adored every fiber of their being, and honestly, it didn’t take puberty for Gwen to get sick of it. For the most part, her life was pretty much normal except for the expectations thrown in her direction. Though her parents may have shown more appreciation for the twins, Gwen was still expected to be the perfect daughter. Ironic. Even though she was polite and kind to them and always did as they asked, she was still seen as the problem child. Not only were her manners disregarded, but the fact that she had managed to get all A’s throughout high school was also disregarded. It was as though she was just another trophy, while the eldest sisters sucked the love out of her parents.

Well, I shouldn’t say parents. It was more of her mother, actually. Her father distributed as much as his time as fairly as possible, and she had grown quite close to him. Unfortunately, he was around much less than anyone else. Needless to say, it wasn’t exactly hard for her to move out and separate herself from her family. She had already felt detached and alone anyways. Her general outlook on life was rather bleak, and she had developed a world of unheard and uncared for opinions. Not only that, but she carried and continues to carry a heavy load of secrets from her childhood the disconnected upbringing. But that’s a whole other story that we don’t have time for. <3
}
I really love {Link for you~}
and I think my guardian angel's name is {Jayn}
Oh, yeah! Wait! {This should be fun.}
Wish me luck.​

I'm not afraid to save or damn the world.
My name is {Saya Rivers}, and
I'm {Eighteen} years old.
I am a {Female},
who looks like this. {Looks can be deceiving, no?}
I'm a {Weapon} in this world, and I control {Darkness}
I think that {Sam} and I will get along really well.
I admit, I like {Rain drops, deep forests, intricate long books, old stationary, solitude, lemon drops, carmel chocolate, white roses, candle light, Victorian style anything, pianos, violins}, but I fraggin' hate {Blinding bright lights, being immersed in rushing waters (think rivers), someone interrupting my daydreaming, pickles, needles, nights without stars, anger brewing in the air}
I act a little...{Strange to others. Even though my element is darkness, I have a light heart. I love to laugh and smile, and have fun with my friends. It may seem to you that I'm not capable of that, but yet I am. You see, I have a mask I wear for strangers. I don't want anyone to know me unless I let them see who I am. That means I have placed my full trust in them. If you see me right up front I'm not the smiling, laughing girl I told you I am. I appear to be solemn and dull; a girl who might perchance to smile may crack and shatter in a million pieces. By the way, this is not how I talk all the time. Only those who I opened my heart to know me well.}
My childhood? Oh, it was like this! {I grew up in a family of perfectionists. Everything I did had to be absolutely perfect; how I spoke, how I dressed, how I walked, everything. I was the only surviving child of the sickness after all. It was up to me to make my way in the world. My father was the worst critic of the parents I was born to. If one thing was out of line with me, everything was. Punishment was always in order. My mother was a tad bit kinder, although she refused to speak against my father and what he believed what was to be done in his house. Nonetheless, through those grueling moments of the first thirteen years of my life, I was trained to be a pianist and a violinist, I found out about my strange abilities, and I received the proper education, (though I don't like to brag about that).

Oh yes, those strange abilities sparked when my father was giving me a “lecture†on what kind of daughter he expected me to be. I was condemned one of the devil’s children, and I really believed that awful world of fire and brimstone surrounded me when my father attempted to rid me from this pure world. In the end, I broke out of that cage and I've spread my own wings. My own wings; yes...I discovered my connection with the dead that day, those spirits from the other world. My wings... they were broken at first, but they healed over time.

Now, this is me. I'm free. I'm living on my own now. No more restrictions or harsh criticism is holding me back. After meeting Sam through a series of events (which I think he doesn't want me to talk about), we became the best of friends. I have a quaint apartment, I make my living as an assistant at a book store and I'm hired to perform private piano and violin concerts for the wealthy. As the rest of my life goes, that's just for me to know about.}
I really love {Palladio}
and I think my guardian angel's name is {Maka}
Oh, yeah! Wait! {Welcome to the masquerade.}
Wish me luck.​

I'm not afraid to save or damn the world.​

My name is {Samuel L. Corinx}, and
I'm {18} years old.
I am a {male},
who looks like this. {
http://i206.photobucket.com/albums/...s/guys/m_4b18ba614ee74215a8e4ae9c45d23496.jpg
I normally wear a set of casual clothes like a t-shirt and jeans, though my imposing stature tops off at 6'7", a result of my family's massive height genes.}
I'm a {master} in this world, and I control {sound}
I admit, I like {dogs, goats, mythology, Amanda Palmer, contemporary things, organic drinks, and pizza}, but I fraggin' hate {spiders, hail, people touching me too much, tight places, and drowning.}
I act a little...{strange. That’s for sure; I’m not exactly the best with other people. I’m selective with who I trust and who I display a mask of casualty and indifference to. To most, I am laid-back, sublimely confident and assertive, and likable. This, however, belies my true self; I have a few problems with self-confidence and a very unfeeling soul, although my best friend would argue against the fact. I’m extremely loyal, however, and you can count on me to always speak my mind.}
My childhood? Oh, it was like this! {I always wondered if it had, over the years, become easier for them not to care. Actually, that statement is false; they cared, they cared about me. I know my parents cared about me. This, however, did not meant that they cared about what I pursued in the future. I had felt stifled by my family, although I’d always conformed. Conformed to religion(I still kept it, albeit not as strictly as my family), conformed to standards, got nearly straight A’s…but the moment that a career option appeared for their son that garnered less than thirty thousand a year, they suddenly got very oppressive. Funny, almost.
Almost, of course. Saya’s an awesome pianist and violinist, did you know that? I did. She also is pretty tough on the streets, but sometimes she is a little vulnerable. Anyway. I got a dorm at the local university, though I spend a lot of time at the bookstore. The lack of connection with my loving parents doesn’t really bother me as much as it should, and I’ve gone through a few girlfriends that have complained about my apathy. This still doesn’t faze me; as long as I have Saya, I can survive anything. }
I really love {http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i62UF7uROGU }
and I think my guardian angel's name is {Of Pride And Other Things}
Oh, yeah! Wait! {I hope there are instruments in that world. Saya and I could jam!}
Wish me luck.​

Don't Be Afraid {Open + Accepting!} {Non-KH Related. c:}

Take a chance, take a breath... never be afraid.​

Honestly, you would have thought we would know better.
Countless magazine articles, warnings from scientists, experts, everything imaginable; we still didn't listen. We've destroyed our Earth, and the battered remains are not happy.
Floods, volcanoes, earthquakes, tornadoes-all ravage our world. Isolated encampments, surrounded by sky-high concrete levies are a temporary fortress until scientists can discover exactly how to recover.
They never will, of course. Humanity, like an unruly brat, is always sorry after it misbehaved.

During a particularly horrible storm in Lousiana, where the characters live, a levy displays a hairline fracture, unseen by all. That fracture slowly grows, unbeknownst to the populace, and triggers an alarm only after the crack has grown to devastating proportions. Ten teenagers are swept up in the oncoming flood. Those that survived the flood were airlifted away to a different encampment, though among the bloated bodies in the water, the teenagers were never found, and presumed dead.​

Wrong.​

In a sense, of course. Who exactly knows where they are? Greeted by a rotting skull impaled upon a crude spear, perhaps the teenagers are in a twisted Wonderland, or a hell, surrounded by creatures that both entice and disgust, boggle the mind. Perhaps they're in a dream; either way, they're in trouble.

The adolescents come to in a dark valley, black rock surrounding them on all sides but one. Confused, befuddled, and rather damp, the teenagers are shoved into a mission to save the world that they came from, turn back time. Five of the teenagers, ordained to become the weapons of the other five, each wield an element. The weapons were humans in the human world; they have adopted a weapon form in this world. They can shift between human and weapon form at any time. Clumsy and awkward, the pairs must learn to work together, harmonise as fire and ice in order to overcome the terror that stands in their way.

They most certainly can't stay where they are. The group feels already the pangs of hunger, thirst not far behind. You feel pain in this world, it's only logical that you can die in it, too. Perhaps that's the only piece of logic in the place, besides gravity. Wait, that's messed up in some places, too. Whoops.
Good luck, you're going to need it.

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Each weapon must have a master; each master must have a weapon. Together they stand, divided they fall.
The scythe, the musket, the axe, the broadsword and the rapier; each destructive, each abstractly beautiful.
The elements must, likewise, be in coordination for surviving.
Fire, water, air, earth. The four elements, the basics of what all else comes from; light and dark, sound and illusion, life and chaos; these ethreal elements govern the universe in perfect synchrosity with the elements; as such, they must be in harmony to allow the survival of our little characters.​

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I am getting ahead of myself, however.
There are rules to this Wonderland, and you must abide by them.
1) No Godmodding.
2) No two of the same element. There are ten for a reason; any two may be paired. (Fire and light, for an example)
3) I'd like romance, but it's not mandatory. Don't force yourself on someone.
4) PG-16 with romance, PG-18 with other things. I like detail~
5) Message me if you want the profile skeleton.
6) If you are not paired with anyone, tell me your preferred element and weapon of your partner, if applicable.
7) At least two paragraphs per post. Sometimes, it gets droll and dialogue, and then it's okay. But try and at least do eight sentances.
8) No insta-skill! You all are going to be sword-swinging idiots when you begin; improvements will happen over a period of time.
9) Collaborate with your partner to find interesting and unique skills.
10) You may have a rudimentary understanding of your element, but you cannot use it for battle until a certain point in the story. Once again, this ties to rule eight.
11) Have fun! <3

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People without a partner:
Scott Grey: Seeking, preferably, a broadsword, with the element of dark.
People partnered already:
Sam (sound) + Saya ( Dark scythe)
Parker (fire) + Gwen (illusion rapier)
Master slots taken: 3/5
Weapon slots taken: 2/5
Weapons taken: Rapier, scythe
Elements taken: Sound, fire, illusion, light, dark
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Profiles:
http://www.kh-vids.net/showthread.php?105336-Don-t-be-afraid.-OOC-Profiles&p=3274474#post3274474


WE ARE STARTING,
though we cannot have the flood happen till we have six or more people~.​