Mad World. .damen.
Sept 25, 2010 11:32:31 GMT -5
Post by Skylar on Sept 25, 2010 11:32:31 GMT -5
All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places
Worn out faces
Bright and early for the daily races
Going no where
Going no where
And their tears are filling up their glasses
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which im dying
Are the best i've ever had
And I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
Its a very, very.. mad world..
Worn out places
Worn out faces
Bright and early for the daily races
Going no where
Going no where
And their tears are filling up their glasses
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which im dying
Are the best i've ever had
And I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
Its a very, very.. mad world..
[/color][/size][/justify][/blockquote][rand=1927464203909039535491769365035561166085768491621711648767814]One foot came after the other; tender feet being cut by sharp rocks. He carried a knife, not knowing whether or not it would be used. Sadness had overcome him. Sadness, depression, anxiety. He'd lived a life of 'You're not good enough' and 'No one's ever liked you.' If this was true, than there wasn't a point to life, was there? His only friend, it seemed, had went bloodthirsty, killing every single person possible. Ocean was her name, and he wouldn't be surprised if she was dead if he were to ever go back to his home and watch the junky television.
He wouldn't though.
He'd pledged to himself that he wouldn't go back, he'd live the rest of his life in these woods, along this creek bank, cutting up his feet as each step he took pressed hard against the obsidian-like stone. There was a side to him that told him to just end where he stood. To slit his throat and live no more. But on the other hand, there was no one to tease him. To tell him he couldn't do it. To tell him he was worthless. And if there wasn't anybody to do that, he'd cheer up, right? No. Definitely not. Sure, he'd be all alone and he wouldn't have to worry about his mannerisms or how he looked, all he'd have to worry about was fending off bears and not getting turned into an Avox, but still, he'd still have the thoughts brandished into his smoky mind.
Gregory Thorton stopped when he heard a crunch of a leaf, and a shuffle of a rock, frozen by fear and nerve. There couldn't be anyone after him, could there? No. It had to be.. it had to be something that lived in the woods. He turned around and rose his knife.
It was a person.
He charged.
[attacks Damen's character's name to be edited]
[dice=200+2000]
deep gash on right forearm 8.0 damage
[fight rules]
real character death
death at 50
damage and attack must be edited in
no unrealistic weapons [so, basically, you can use a handmade spear/knife/baseball bat/etc. but nothing crazy]
