v5 Formatting Testing thread

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v5 Formatting Testing thread Mar 16, 2014 21:24:50 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Deleted on Mar 16, 2014 21:24:50 GMT -5

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Aenean posuere, nulla sed elementum posuere, dui purus varius elit, ut auctor dolor lectus tempus urna. Proin aliquam massa id mattis hendrerit. Nulla in luctus mi. Integer ut lacinia augue. Donec vel urna velit. Etiam iaculis metus sed dui tempus lobortis. Suspendisse congue justo sem, eget ultrices est varius dictum. Etiam non nisl sed mi lacinia egestas eget eu arcu. Proin eu dignissim mauris. Suspendisse nec accumsan sapien. In ultrices turpis sit amet pellentesque dictum.

Maecenas bibendum, dui quis laoreet malesuada, tortor metus sagittis erat, ac suscipit felis nisl non felis. Integer sit amet posuere massa, quis bibendum velit. Sed vel massa quis leo laoreet ullamcorper at sed justo. Proin sit amet facilisis nibh. Donec interdum nibh et urna porttitor, sed convallis eros vestibulum. Quisque interdum mauris at tellus eleifend, et fringilla tortor malesuada. Curabitur aliquam commodo nibh a lobortis. Curabitur viverra commodo facilisis.

Nam tincidunt felis dignissim libero lacinia, eu porttitor mauris dapibus. Praesent ultricies velit lacinia, pharetra justo sit amet, vehicula tellus. Aliquam semper libero nec urna posuere, vestibulum faucibus nibh semper. Ut neque nisi, tincidunt a augue in, vestibulum interdum eros. Cum sociis natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Phasellus hendrerit nulla vitae sem convallis, rhoncus imperdiet quam iaculis. Duis ultricies gravida lacus ac mattis. Proin lacinia libero et dapibus bibendum. In aliquam tortor et mauris scelerisque placerat. Nullam pellentesque nunc eu vulputate scelerisque. Integer eu dapibus nunc. Quisque lectus quam, porta sit amet ligula a, euismod pulvinar est.

Quisque sit amet imperdiet sapien, non sagittis nisl. Vestibulum ante ipsum primis in faucibus orci luctus et ultrices posuere cubilia Curae; Etiam ullamcorper lectus vitae lorem tincidunt ullamcorper. Nam sit amet lorem risus. Aenean accumsan nisl ac enim porttitor porttitor. Integer mattis, quam id tempus pellentesque, risus nunc porta metus, tempor vehicula nibh enim in tortor. Vestibulum tristique est nec lacus sodales convallis. Nullam at mi molestie est dictum pulvinar. Sed a dignissim tellus. Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas. In tristique non sapien sed porta. Nunc id facilisis felis, feugiat venenatis erat. Sed id turpis varius risus sollicitudin dapibus gravida vitae nisl.

Nam aliquam magna non arcu egestas posuere sed sed massa. Aenean congue velit vel egestas consectetur. Sed et aliquet eros. Nullam lacinia massa pharetra diam aliquet pharetra. Quisque tristique leo ac libero tincidunt suscipit. Cras faucibus rutrum neque. Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas. Donec viverra consectetur nulla, in scelerisque leo fringilla eu. Suspendisse et suscipit risus. Mauris ac tempor elit, in convallis nunc. Cras ac faucibus risus, sit amet egestas leo. Donec eu nulla sit amet arcu dignissim sagittis. Sed sit amet erat tristique, ornare ante ac, commodo tortor. Cras gravida odio sit amet quam ultricies, at laoreet tortor rutrum. Fusce id egestas nunc, ut rhoncus erat. Etiam fermentum augue ut facilisis luctus.

gamemaker kelsier
Graphics

6,046 POSTS
Pronouns: they/them
Member is Online

“And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.” - steinbeck

v5 Formatting Testing thread Mar 17, 2014 1:25:31 GMT -5

Quote

Post by gamemaker kelsier on Mar 17, 2014 1:25:31 GMT -5

[presto]

[/presto]

E R W I N

{ and at once i knew
i was not magnificent ;

WORDS

WORD

WEFFN

YEEE

Last Edit: Mar 17, 2014 3:24:47 GMT -5 by gamemaker kelsier

compendium / avriel
clown car / pietro
2022 tracker / 2023 tracker / 2024 tracker

gamemaker kelsier
Graphics

6,046 POSTS
Pronouns: they/them
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“And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.” - steinbeck

v5 Formatting Testing thread Mar 17, 2014 5:13:57 GMT -5

Quote

Post by gamemaker kelsier on Mar 17, 2014 5:13:57 GMT -5

[presto]

[/presto]

L I E L A M A R T I N

{ Lyrics or quote
here u feel me ;

holla

this be a template for Dars, u feel me?

It's got that scroll functiony guy

hello pls

scrolly guy

hey u here

will the real scrolly guy pls stand up, please stand up, pls stand up

credits are in a presto at the bottom and are unremovable because it's a grphic ahahahaaaa

jah jah jah

i hope this is enough

4 scroll

soon maybe

oh hello

scroll

eh he he

[presto]

[/presto]

Last Edit: Mar 17, 2014 5:15:51 GMT -5 by gamemaker kelsier

compendium / avriel
clown car / pietro
2022 tracker / 2023 tracker / 2024 tracker

gamemaker kelsier
Graphics

6,046 POSTS
Pronouns: they/them
Member is Online

“And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.” - steinbeck

v5 Formatting Testing thread Mar 18, 2014 6:55:54 GMT -5

Quote

Post by gamemaker kelsier on Mar 18, 2014 6:55:54 GMT -5

E Y E
{ because fuck you that's why }

This is pretty much a 'choose your character' template. because EXO did a cool ass photoshoot, you feel me?

THERE'S A LOT OF SHIT THAT HAPPENED BETWEEN LAST NIGHT AND NOW BUT I'M GONNA CATCH YOU UP LATER BECAUSE HOLY FUCKING SHIT THERE IS A GIANT ASS DRAGON AND SOME PUSSIE ASS TRIBUTES THAT I CAN'T EVEN REMEMBER THE NAME OF But MOSTLY THIS GIANT ASS DRAGON IS FUCKING AWESOME AND I AM GOING TO KILL IT WITH FIRE.

I'm like a four year old on his birthday who's just been given a firecracker and told not to light it up. This is awesome. Mostly, the people around me look pretty damn unimpressed, sort of afraid too, but I've never been so excited. I've been listening to Ewe's stories about dragons and slayers since we were little, and fuck me if I'm not downright into this. To be honest, I have no fucking clue on how I'm going to kill this giant, featherless bird but I can sure as hell attempt to, you know? If you don't try you can never succeed anyway so I guess that all I can do is try.

Mostly we are dripping wet from that giant ass wave that carried us off. I was sort of expecting the magic land of happiness, but instead we're back in fire world with a giant ass dragon and I think I maybe lost my wits somewhere or I gave them to Willis to take care of. I know that the last thing I want to do is attack a fucking dragon, I'm no dumbass, but at the same time I feel like it's the only thing I've ever wanted to do in my entire life. Joy takes over and sends me running for it, totally ignoring Willis' instructions to follow his lead. I will not stick my head up my ass and hope not to be hit by the beast, it's hit me already, if I am to bow to any greatness here, let it be to a lofty mountain, not the parasite that resides inside.

AS I'm running, a shuriken attempts to embed it's self into my skin, but I do that weird jump forward thing like I've just had a fright, and it only cuts instead. Unable to hold in my anger, I spin towards the source and see one of those other tributes with a handful. "REALLY MATE?" I yell in annoyance, "THERE'S A FUCKING HUGE ASS CHICKEN THAT BREATHS FIRE AND YOU'RE ATTACKING ME? PRIORITIES MAN, PRIORITIES." Shaking my head in disdain, I spin on my heel and begin running again. Some people act like they've been raised in a fucking barn.

I pull the flint from my bag, and a jar of tar. That's right, I'm gonna fight fire with fire because fuck you is why. Coating my sword in the tar, I give a quick prayer to the fire gods and remind them that I don't really want to die so please to give me good luck here.

Then, I take on a dragon.

{eyyyyyyyyy}

E P O N Y M O U S
{ because fuck you that's why }

This is pretty much a 'choose your character' template. because EXO did a cool ass photoshoot, you feel me?

THERE'S A LOT OF SHIT THAT HAPPENED BETWEEN LAST NIGHT AND NOW BUT I'M GONNA CATCH YOU UP LATER BECAUSE HOLY FUCKING SHIT THERE IS A GIANT ASS DRAGON AND SOME PUSSIE ASS TRIBUTES THAT I CAN'T EVEN REMEMBER THE NAME OF But MOSTLY THIS GIANT ASS DRAGON IS FUCKING AWESOME AND I AM GOING TO KILL IT WITH FIRE.

I'm like a four year old on his birthday who's just been given a firecracker and told not to light it up. This is awesome. Mostly, the people around me look pretty damn unimpressed, sort of afraid too, but I've never been so excited. I've been listening to Ewe's stories about dragons and slayers since we were little, and fuck me if I'm not downright into this. To be honest, I have no fucking clue on how I'm going to kill this giant, featherless bird but I can sure as hell attempt to, you know? If you don't try you can never succeed anyway so I guess that all I can do is try.

Mostly we are dripping wet from that giant ass wave that carried us off. I was sort of expecting the magic land of happiness, but instead we're back in fire world with a giant ass dragon and I think I maybe lost my wits somewhere or I gave them to Willis to take care of. I know that the last thing I want to do is attack a fucking dragon, I'm no dumbass, but at the same time I feel like it's the only thing I've ever wanted to do in my entire life. Joy takes over and sends me running for it, totally ignoring Willis' instructions to follow his lead. I will not stick my head up my ass and hope not to be hit by the beast, it's hit me already, if I am to bow to any greatness here, let it be to a lofty mountain, not the parasite that resides inside.

AS I'm running, a shuriken attempts to embed it's self into my skin, but I do that weird jump forward thing like I've just had a fright, and it only cuts instead. Unable to hold in my anger, I spin towards the source and see one of those other tributes with a handful. "REALLY MATE?" I yell in annoyance, "THERE'S A FUCKING HUGE ASS CHICKEN THAT BREATHS FIRE AND YOU'RE ATTACKING ME? PRIORITIES MAN, PRIORITIES." Shaking my head in disdain, I spin on my heel and begin running again. Some people act like they've been raised in a fucking barn.

I pull the flint from my bag, and a jar of tar. That's right, I'm gonna fight fire with fire because fuck you is why. Coating my sword in the tar, I give a quick prayer to the fire gods and remind them that I don't really want to die so please to give me good luck here.

Then, I take on a dragon.

{eyyyyyyyyy}

P O T A T O
{ because fuck you that's why }

This is pretty much a 'choose your character' template. because EXO did a cool ass photoshoot, you feel me?

THERE'S A LOT OF SHIT THAT HAPPENED BETWEEN LAST NIGHT AND NOW BUT I'M GONNA CATCH YOU UP LATER BECAUSE HOLY FUCKING SHIT THERE IS A GIANT ASS DRAGON AND SOME PUSSIE ASS TRIBUTES THAT I CAN'T EVEN REMEMBER THE NAME OF But MOSTLY THIS GIANT ASS DRAGON IS FUCKING AWESOME AND I AM GOING TO KILL IT WITH FIRE.

I'm like a four year old on his birthday who's just been given a firecracker and told not to light it up. This is awesome. Mostly, the people around me look pretty damn unimpressed, sort of afraid too, but I've never been so excited. I've been listening to Ewe's stories about dragons and slayers since we were little, and fuck me if I'm not downright into this. To be honest, I have no fucking clue on how I'm going to kill this giant, featherless bird but I can sure as hell attempt to, you know? If you don't try you can never succeed anyway so I guess that all I can do is try.

Mostly we are dripping wet from that giant ass wave that carried us off. I was sort of expecting the magic land of happiness, but instead we're back in fire world with a giant ass dragon and I think I maybe lost my wits somewhere or I gave them to Willis to take care of. I know that the last thing I want to do is attack a fucking dragon, I'm no dumbass, but at the same time I feel like it's the only thing I've ever wanted to do in my entire life. Joy takes over and sends me running for it, totally ignoring Willis' instructions to follow his lead. I will not stick my head up my ass and hope not to be hit by the beast, it's hit me already, if I am to bow to any greatness here, let it be to a lofty mountain, not the parasite that resides inside.

AS I'm running, a shuriken attempts to embed it's self into my skin, but I do that weird jump forward thing like I've just had a fright, and it only cuts instead. Unable to hold in my anger, I spin towards the source and see one of those other tributes with a handful. "REALLY MATE?" I yell in annoyance, "THERE'S A FUCKING HUGE ASS CHICKEN THAT BREATHS FIRE AND YOU'RE ATTACKING ME? PRIORITIES MAN, PRIORITIES." Shaking my head in disdain, I spin on my heel and begin running again. Some people act like they've been raised in a fucking barn.

I pull the flint from my bag, and a jar of tar. That's right, I'm gonna fight fire with fire because fuck you is why. Coating my sword in the tar, I give a quick prayer to the fire gods and remind them that I don't really want to die so please to give me good luck here.

Then, I take on a dragon.

{eyyyyyyyyy}

S I N
{ because fuck you that's why }

This is pretty much a 'choose your character' template. because EXO did a cool ass photoshoot, you feel me?

THERE'S A LOT OF SHIT THAT HAPPENED BETWEEN LAST NIGHT AND NOW BUT I'M GONNA CATCH YOU UP LATER BECAUSE HOLY FUCKING SHIT THERE IS A GIANT ASS DRAGON AND SOME PUSSIE ASS TRIBUTES THAT I CAN'T EVEN REMEMBER THE NAME OF But MOSTLY THIS GIANT ASS DRAGON IS FUCKING AWESOME AND I AM GOING TO KILL IT WITH FIRE.

I'm like a four year old on his birthday who's just been given a firecracker and told not to light it up. This is awesome. Mostly, the people around me look pretty damn unimpressed, sort of afraid too, but I've never been so excited. I've been listening to Ewe's stories about dragons and slayers since we were little, and fuck me if I'm not downright into this. To be honest, I have no fucking clue on how I'm going to kill this giant, featherless bird but I can sure as hell attempt to, you know? If you don't try you can never succeed anyway so I guess that all I can do is try.

Mostly we are dripping wet from that giant ass wave that carried us off. I was sort of expecting the magic land of happiness, but instead we're back in fire world with a giant ass dragon and I think I maybe lost my wits somewhere or I gave them to Willis to take care of. I know that the last thing I want to do is attack a fucking dragon, I'm no dumbass, but at the same time I feel like it's the only thing I've ever wanted to do in my entire life. Joy takes over and sends me running for it, totally ignoring Willis' instructions to follow his lead. I will not stick my head up my ass and hope not to be hit by the beast, it's hit me already, if I am to bow to any greatness here, let it be to a lofty mountain, not the parasite that resides inside.

AS I'm running, a shuriken attempts to embed it's self into my skin, but I do that weird jump forward thing like I've just had a fright, and it only cuts instead. Unable to hold in my anger, I spin towards the source and see one of those other tributes with a handful. "REALLY MATE?" I yell in annoyance, "THERE'S A FUCKING HUGE ASS CHICKEN THAT BREATHS FIRE AND YOU'RE ATTACKING ME? PRIORITIES MAN, PRIORITIES." Shaking my head in disdain, I spin on my heel and begin running again. Some people act like they've been raised in a fucking barn.

I pull the flint from my bag, and a jar of tar. That's right, I'm gonna fight fire with fire because fuck you is why. Coating my sword in the tar, I give a quick prayer to the fire gods and remind them that I don't really want to die so please to give me good luck here.

Then, I take on a dragon.

{eyyyyyyyyy}

T E A
{ because fuck you that's why }

This is pretty much a 'choose your character' template. because EXO did a cool ass photoshoot, you feel me?

THERE'S A LOT OF SHIT THAT HAPPENED BETWEEN LAST NIGHT AND NOW BUT I'M GONNA CATCH YOU UP LATER BECAUSE HOLY FUCKING SHIT THERE IS A GIANT ASS DRAGON AND SOME PUSSIE ASS TRIBUTES THAT I CAN'T EVEN REMEMBER THE NAME OF But MOSTLY THIS GIANT ASS DRAGON IS FUCKING AWESOME AND I AM GOING TO KILL IT WITH FIRE.

I'm like a four year old on his birthday who's just been given a firecracker and told not to light it up. This is awesome. Mostly, the people around me look pretty damn unimpressed, sort of afraid too, but I've never been so excited. I've been listening to Ewe's stories about dragons and slayers since we were little, and fuck me if I'm not downright into this. To be honest, I have no fucking clue on how I'm going to kill this giant, featherless bird but I can sure as hell attempt to, you know? If you don't try you can never succeed anyway so I guess that all I can do is try.

Mostly we are dripping wet from that giant ass wave that carried us off. I was sort of expecting the magic land of happiness, but instead we're back in fire world with a giant ass dragon and I think I maybe lost my wits somewhere or I gave them to Willis to take care of. I know that the last thing I want to do is attack a fucking dragon, I'm no dumbass, but at the same time I feel like it's the only thing I've ever wanted to do in my entire life. Joy takes over and sends me running for it, totally ignoring Willis' instructions to follow his lead. I will not stick my head up my ass and hope not to be hit by the beast, it's hit me already, if I am to bow to any greatness here, let it be to a lofty mountain, not the parasite that resides inside.

AS I'm running, a shuriken attempts to embed it's self into my skin, but I do that weird jump forward thing like I've just had a fright, and it only cuts instead. Unable to hold in my anger, I spin towards the source and see one of those other tributes with a handful. "REALLY MATE?" I yell in annoyance, "THERE'S A FUCKING HUGE ASS CHICKEN THAT BREATHS FIRE AND YOU'RE ATTACKING ME? PRIORITIES MAN, PRIORITIES." Shaking my head in disdain, I spin on my heel and begin running again. Some people act like they've been raised in a fucking barn.

I pull the flint from my bag, and a jar of tar. That's right, I'm gonna fight fire with fire because fuck you is why. Coating my sword in the tar, I give a quick prayer to the fire gods and remind them that I don't really want to die so please to give me good luck here.

Then, I take on a dragon.

{eyyyyyyyyy}

compendium / avriel
clown car / pietro
2022 tracker / 2023 tracker / 2024 tracker

cass Retired Staff 4,822 POSTS last seen Oct 24, 2021 18:11:43 GMT -5	v5 Formatting Testing thread Mar 20, 2014 8:29:06 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by cass on Mar 20, 2014 8:29:06 GMT -5 ele ele ele look look i made thing r u proud this is ur thing i just put a new pic on it and and and well that is far as my coding thing skillz go oop { lyrics or quote here maybe ; template by elegant

Deleted 0 POSTS last seen Nov 2, 2024 14:36:08 GMT -5	v5 Formatting Testing thread Mar 20, 2014 13:31:28 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Deleted on Mar 20, 2014 13:31:28 GMT -5 Testing testing 123 Someone Something {chapter something}
	Last Edit: Mar 20, 2014 13:40:44 GMT -5 by Deleted

✨ zozo.
Retired Staff

8,205 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
last seen Nov 2, 2024 0:43:35 GMT -5

bloomtodeath

v5 Formatting Testing thread Mar 21, 2014 1:39:12 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ✨ zozo. on Mar 21, 2014 1:39:12 GMT -5

indigo venus.

Wow text.

Wow scroll.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, scripta voluptua invenire mea ut. Dicam decore corpora id quo, nihil ancillae appetere ius no. Est at impetus democritum, veritus cotidieque contentiones est at. Est an numquam voluptatibus, eam facete animal ne. Bonorum interesset mei an, te virtute eligendi senserit nam, eu nec dicta nemore.

Molestiae necessitatibus est eu, imperdiet disputationi cu cum. Meis viderer in est, duo an nulla dissentiunt, at ubique delicata est. Eum te numquam atomorum, mel ea unum iudicabit. Mei unum augue primis ad, an augue exerci voluptatum eos.

Pri et tota nusquam periculis, per movet scripta tincidunt ne. In suas nusquam cum, nam ornatus iracundia moderatius ne. Mollis honestatis est in, et cum malis falli appareat. Equidem commune posidonium ex cum, ut est brute partem verear, summo epicuri no sed.

In dico ignota recusabo mea, vis eu laudem civibus. Et numquam epicuri reprimique duo. Te sint aperiri petentium cum, usu mutat alterum apeirian id, timeam voluptatum quo ne. Stet aeterno principes mei eu. Debitis neglegentur an sed, no pri exerci appetere facilisis, eos ea epicuri senserit. Ut usu saperet sapientem democritum.

No impedit constituam eos. Aeque numquam has te, omnis dolorum mei an, vis nihil aeterno no. Ea mea virtute necessitatibus, unum mandamus salutandi ne eos. Diceret copiosae posidonium nec te. Id qui eros ubique apeirian, pro alii dolore ea.

info goes here

indigo venus.

my feelings towards that left coloumn: a haiku by zoë

why why why why why
jesus christ god no why me
i hate this so much

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, scripta voluptua invenire mea ut. Dicam decore corpora id quo, nihil ancillae appetere ius no. Est at impetus democritum, veritus cotidieque contentiones est at. Est an numquam voluptatibus, eam facete animal ne. Bonorum interesset mei an, te virtute eligendi senserit nam, eu nec dicta nemore.

Molestiae necessitatibus est eu, imperdiet disputationi cu cum. Meis viderer in est, duo an nulla dissentiunt, at ubique delicata est. Eum te numquam atomorum, mel ea unum iudicabit. Mei unum augue primis ad, an augue exerci voluptatum eos.

Pri et tota nusquam periculis, per movet scripta tincidunt ne. In suas nusquam cum, nam ornatus iracundia moderatius ne. Mollis honestatis est in, et cum malis falli appareat. Equidem commune posidonium ex cum, ut est brute partem verear, summo epicuri no sed.

In dico ignota recusabo mea, vis eu laudem civibus. Et numquam epicuri reprimique duo. Te sint aperiri petentium cum, usu mutat alterum apeirian id, timeam voluptatum quo ne. Stet aeterno principes mei eu. Debitis neglegentur an sed, no pri exerci appetere facilisis, eos ea epicuri senserit. Ut usu saperet sapientem democritum.

No impedit constituam eos. Aeque numquam has te, omnis dolorum mei an, vis nihil aeterno no. Ea mea virtute necessitatibus, unum mandamus salutandi ne eos. Diceret copiosae posidonium nec te. Id qui eros ubique apeirian, pro alii dolore ea.

info goes here

Last Edit: Mar 21, 2014 2:33:18 GMT -5 by ✨ zozo.

“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”

L△LIA
RP Tutor

3,574 POSTS

last seen Jun 24, 2019 15:25:10 GMT -5

BOOM SH△KALAKA

v5 Formatting Testing thread Mar 22, 2014 20:56:29 GMT -5

Quote

Post by L△LIA on Mar 22, 2014 20:56:29 GMT -5

Most people seek to cure; I prefer the disease. Mass destruction fits so neatly into a tiny little vial when you know what you're doing — you can hold it in the palm of your hand, watching the glass magnify your lifeline through pure, translucent death. Who needs drugs when the pathogen can make you feel this high? Hyun Ae never understood that... or maybe I should say she was never cut out to understand it. I'm following in the footsteps of our parents, like a good son should: ours is a family that creates the cure for other kinds of problems. My sister is either unable to comprehend that or she has no honor. I'm not sure which is worse.

Then again, she never did have my aptitude for understanding — cognition just isn't a gene we share — one glance at the red marks peppering her schoolwork has always been enough to clarify that. I don't know how she could stand it, check mark after check mark and failure after failure, but maybe I hated it enough for her. I've always liked neat, orderly things. They don't have to be clean or kind, but there's a certain sense of place that everything in the world is meant to abide by. Hyun Ae has never known her place, but I see mine all too clearly. Just like a virus, it's also in those tiny vials. I can cradle it in my hands, turn it in dizzy circles with my fingers, or, if I wanted, I could smash it against the ground and watch its contagion make me a god.

Thing for blitz posts, jfc, it took me a long time to properly code this. If it looks wonky in your browser, please give me a heads up? Because you love me? It should look like this.

Last Edit: Mar 22, 2014 21:45:21 GMT -5 by L△LIA

( C H A R A C T E R S )

L△LIA
RP Tutor

3,574 POSTS

last seen Jun 24, 2019 15:25:10 GMT -5

BOOM SH△KALAKA

v5 Formatting Testing thread Mar 22, 2014 21:30:42 GMT -5

Quote

Post by L△LIA on Mar 22, 2014 21:30:42 GMT -5

Most people seek to cure; I prefer the disease. Mass destruction fits so neatly into a tiny little vial when you know what you're doing — you can hold it in the palm of your hand, watching the glass magnify your lifeline through pure, translucent death. Who needs drugs when the pathogen can make you feel this high? Hyun Ae never understood that... or maybe I should say she was never cut out to understand it. I'm following in the footsteps of our parents, like a good son should: ours is a family that creates the cure for other kinds of problems. My sister is either unable to comprehend that or she has no honor. I'm not sure which is worse.

Then again, she never did have my aptitude for understanding — cognition just isn't a gene we share — one glance at the red marks peppering her schoolwork has always been enough to clarify that. I don't know how she could stand it, check mark after check mark and failure after failure, but maybe I hated it enough for her. I've always liked neat, orderly things. They don't have to be clean or kind, but there's a certain sense of place that everything in the world is meant to abide by. Hyun Ae has never known her place, but I see mine all too clearly. Just like a virus, it's also in those tiny vials. I can cradle it in my hands, turn it in dizzy circles with my fingers, or, if I wanted, I could smash it against the ground and watch its contagion make me a god.

Last Edit: Mar 22, 2014 21:37:57 GMT -5 by L△LIA

( C H A R A C T E R S )

L△LIA
RP Tutor

3,574 POSTS

last seen Jun 24, 2019 15:25:10 GMT -5

BOOM SH△KALAKA

v5 Formatting Testing thread Mar 22, 2014 21:41:02 GMT -5

Quote

Post by L△LIA on Mar 22, 2014 21:41:02 GMT -5

Most people seek to cure; I prefer the disease. Mass destruction fits so neatly into a tiny little vial when you know what you're doing — you can hold it in the palm of your hand, watching the glass magnify your lifeline through pure, translucent death. Who needs drugs when the pathogen can make you feel this high? Hyun Ae never understood that... or maybe I should say she was never cut out to understand it. I'm following in the footsteps of our parents, like a good son should: ours is a family that creates the cure for other kinds of problems. My sister is either unable to comprehend that or she has no honor. I'm not sure which is worse.

Then again, she never did have my aptitude for understanding — cognition just isn't a gene we share — one glance at the red marks peppering her schoolwork has always been enough to clarify that. I don't know how she could stand it, check mark after check mark and failure after failure, but maybe I hated it enough for her. I've always liked neat, orderly things. They don't have to be clean or kind, but there's a certain sense of place that everything in the world is meant to abide by. Hyun Ae has never known her place, but I see mine all too clearly. Just like a virus, it's also in those tiny vials. I can cradle it in my hands, turn it in dizzy circles with my fingers, or, if I wanted, I could smash it against the ground and watch its contagion make me a god.

Last Edit: Mar 22, 2014 21:41:33 GMT -5 by L△LIA

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v5 Formatting Testing thread Mar 23, 2014 5:52:25 GMT -5

Quote

Post by L△LIA on Mar 23, 2014 5:52:25 GMT -5

The smirk on my face is a real sonuvabitch, the kind of shit eating grin a guy only gets when he knows with absolute certainty that he's living the life of a legend. Maybe I'll be knocked down and proven wrong in just a minute or two, but so far every detail of tonight is turning into a victory for me. One: Despite my brother's scheming attempts at sabotage, I won my fight in the ring. Two: The guys in this bar who were savvy enough to bet on me have been buying all my drinks. Three: I KOed that drunk, just because I could and it felt great. Three: This girl. Four: All I can think is that she's got a name like the devil. Luce. Lucifer. Five: Go ahead, give me hell. Six ~~six six~~, for the self-satisfied glint in my swagger: Trust me, the pleasure is mine, dollface. Although rumor has it that it could be yours too.

"Name's Dresden Blacklion, but I can think of quite a few other things I'd be happy to let you call me while you're at it." It's not just the booze in my blood that's making me feel like I'm invincible. There's something in the way she holds herself, every movement perfectly controlled, that makes me want to muss her up and show her that the little hint of hellion in her would be so much more fun to set free — how a mouth doesn't have to be well-behaved to scream for God. "That guy back there probably lost his rent money because of me, but he oughta just be glad I don't charge him extra for what happened. Usually I get paid to throw my fists around, so that was practically charity." Taking a drag on my drink, I shoot her a look over the glass brim. "There's a few fighting rings set up in the warehouses around these parts," setting my beer down, I feign a few air-punches and throw her a wink, "but I take it you're not much of a gambling girl?"

Last Edit: Mar 23, 2014 6:27:44 GMT -5 by L△LIA

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L△LIA
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v5 Formatting Testing thread Mar 23, 2014 6:03:34 GMT -5

Quote

Post by L△LIA on Mar 23, 2014 6:03:34 GMT -5

"Pass the potatoes." There is no please, no question mark. This is the deadpan voice of tedious boredom and the only thing saving you from wanting to kill yourself just so something will feel like it's happening, is the satisfaction of knowing how annoyed dear sister Idris will be that you not only demanded instead of asked for the seemingly innocuous potatoes, but that you couldn't even be bothered to be polite about it. The genius in tactics like this is how neither your father nor your new step-mother realize even for a moment the kind of war games being played out before them. Tonight the dinner table has already been declared a battlefield and you're not one for taking prisoners. These are not the eyes of pity, despite the targets laid out before you being siblings instead of strangers, be it step or otherwise. There will be blood in exchange for your boredom, even if it matches what runs in your own veins.

Before Idris has the opportunity to call you out for being a fucking suckbag or whichever incredibly witty remark she's loaded her trigger-happy machine gun of a mouth with in retribution for your petty needling, you've already decided it's time to go big or go home. Seeing as you're already home, that only leaves you with one option. "Lyulf, you should have invited your new friend from school over to dinner." You don't dislike your little brother, despite the fact that you saw an upperclassman beating the shit out of him in the hallways earlier today and kept on walking, because you weren't in the mood to dirty your knuckles. Besides, Idris was only a couple steps behind you and there was a strange logic in the back of your mind reassuring you that it would have been twice as cruel to deprive her of her favorite past time which, funny enough, seems to be something of a shared hobby between her and Lyulf's new friend. "How many times has mother mentioned that she'd love to meet all of our friends?" Despite the deceptive phrasing, this also is not actually a question and there's certainly nothing polite about it.

Insults fly and in the aftermath, yours is proven to be the mouth of an angel, while the Anotinette twins reveal tongues as wicked as your half-hearted soul. Little Lyulf knows better than to throw himself between the bullets, a lifetime spent growing far more used to your backwards sense of bonding than your half-siblings can comprehend. Despite the way your words so often sound to people who do not yet know you well, tonight's conversation hasn't been the least bit malicious on your part thus far. If anything, pointing out that you were paying attention to the kind of day your brother was having is something like showing you care; nothing holds your attention if it hasn't captured a fraction of your interest as well.

Your ensuing whisper to Fyffe is just loud enough so Idris will have the pleasure of overhearing, yet hushed enough to evade your parents, and this attention to detail is why your father has always believed you to be the most upstanding of young gentlemen. Unlike the flares of surrounding tempers, you know how to operate behind a flawless facade of law-abiding courtesy, which is only contradicted when you choose to allow a glimpse of something more honest. "I'd be happy to flirt with you for a while instead, dear sister." There is nothing familial about the way the exaggerated endearment slips off your tongue, eyebrows arching as you turn to look her dead in the eye with implication. The edge of the butter knife tap-tap-taps softly against the the table as you speak, underwriting your words with a Morse code message the girl before you can't possibly translate, but perhaps has a gut feeling about anyway: If she hops off, will you hop on?

Finally, this is beginning to feel slightly more entertaining than cheap shots at Lyulf and when you spear a soft-bellied boiled potato onto your knife, you can't help turning to lock unblinking eyes with Idris as you take a slow-motion bite. The corners of your mouth twist up with satisfaction as you chew, swallow, and eventually close off your android stare from the world for a moment. "Delicious." The compliment isn't for the cooking, but it hurtles down the table for the benefit of mother's ears anyhow. Meandering back to pick your brother's meek attempt at conversation up off the ground, you dust it off and begin cutting into the pot roast on your plate as you reply. "Unfortunately, I haven't yet been anywhere near as fortunate in my efforts to make friends in our new school," in this scenario of friendship, it's safe to say that you are not the one hoping to be slammed into lockers, but your voice turns saccharine sweet as you glance around the table with the kind of smile that knows how to make the evil tongues of the Antoinette children falter, "but at least I have all of you."

You're a real charming bastard when you can be bothered. The very same things that drive a person over the edge about you in the beginning have a way of turning on them the moment you're taken for granted, thinking they've connected all the wayward dots and made sense out of you. None of them realize until it's too late that you've spent your time getting under their skin. Strategic. Calculated. An infinite series of small gestures and ideas that eventually come together to create an inescapable web. What makes you dangerous has nothing to do with fists or weapons buried in the hearts of small animals, it's just that, like Idris, that's where people want to draw the line. Blood, bruises, and broken bones are the holy trinity of fear and when those surrounding you come to realize your hollow eyes have little-to-no interest in carving up their bodies, a mistaken sense of safety sneaks in. You won't hurt them, they tell themselves. What narrow minds and definitions people have. "You've got me there," your reply to Idris is nonchalant as you shake your fork at her, pot roast speared across the tines, "the death of an animal is weighing on my conscience, now that you mention it." With a smirk still hanging on your lips from Lyulf's puns, you shrug and take a bite out of your sarcastic confession of guilt. What people ought to tell themselves is: you won't cut them up and devour them for dinner. Not literally, at least.

The jabs and insults of the evening are deflected off the armor of just how little you care and even Fyffe's cheap dig at both your dead mother and a particular facet of your anatomy cannot wound you. Whatever your weaknesses, she'll only find them after she offers up her own to you, for yours is a strange heart that hinges on borrowed emotions. After all, you only know with certainty that you're under someone's skin once you begin to feel the wounds of your psychological attacks echoing back to you in a bond that reverberates in the pauses between your breaths, the way your little brother's quiet sighs ring in your ears even when you ignore them. Yet, the hand of the girl caressing your thigh seems to think she already knows your endgame, but in the grand list of things you're beginning to decide you want from your step-sister, she's on the wrong track. Everyone thinks it's always about what can be done to a body, but the part of you that shamelessly burns beneath Fyffe's touch is your sixth sense for secrets. Her skin is half a degree warmer with masked panic that one day someone will know... something. When you softly laugh off her whispered attack with a hint of shockingly genuine amusement, it is another infinitesimal fragment of proof that you have no intention of wounding her. Not so easily, anyway. Not so gracelessly. Not when you want under that warm skin so you can feast on whatever it is she's keeping hidden away.

There's no challenge in Idris when the mere fact of your existence is enough to send her whirling up from her chair in a tizzy of rattled annoyance and ricocheting verbal shrapnel. Since the first moment the corner of your mouth twisted itself up for her, you have sent shivers down her spine. Sometimes it's amusing to be able to shake a person without wasting so much as a single thought on them; other times it's a dull affair without a sense of reward. Tonight falls somewhere in the middle and so the only thing her disbelief earns her is another shrug and a frown so sarcastically exaggerated that you still manage to look like a coy Cheshire, floating upside down in your seat at the dinner table. "Well, I'd be lying if I claimed to be an idiot. You wouldn't like me much for that either." Stretched teeth and the nonsensical riddle of your words echo softly against the bowl of potatoes, a dish of butter, and a basket of bread rolls. Despite the authoritarian heads of the table, this is not a place where you will encounter any true repercussions for your sly tongue. Someday, perhaps, but not here.

"You know, we had a grandmother who used to say things like heebie-jeebies." Picking up a dinner roll, you split it in half and begin nonchalantly buttering it up, as if the shadow of a trained killer wasn't splitting your neck in two as you speak. "Do you remember that, Ly? Heebie-jeebies." There is some piece of you that recognizes how you should feel a little intimidated by the girl threateningly towering over you with her aggressive stance as you lean back in your chair and casually cross one leg over the other, recounting a deceased grandmother you weren't particularly close with. As if anyone has ever been close with you. "That's not something I would have expected to hear out of a mouth like yours, Idris." The end of her name hisses out from between your teeth and you take a bite before picking the basket of rolls up once more and politely offering them over to Fyffe. "Do you know where your sister gets her clever vocabulary from?" Feeling intimidated is, perhaps, beyond the reach of your emotional capacity and you wonder idly if that too is worthy of a shiver.

Families have ways and means of passing traditions along and those outside the circles often have a difficult time understanding. Whatever it is you were trying to imply about Idris (it's all so easy it's borderline boring and if she slips from your mind for a moment, just like a physical fall, you aren't going to rush to catch her), you give it up without hesitance in favor of other thoughts. Her mouth was given to her by her mother and although the elder Antoinette may reign herself in a little more than her daughter, a thrum of laughter catches you off-guard as she makes an appropriately inappropriate contribution to the conversation. Simple. To the point. A hint of something that feels like winning in relation to whatever those thoughts and verbal jabs were about that you can't be bothered with remembering right this second. Catching Lyulf's eye, you wink and grin, because there is something entertaining about this being the woman your father fell for. "Me, Ly?" The mock-shock drips as thick as honey in your voice as you shoot a joking whisper his way, "and here I was just thinking about what a remarkably well-behaved mouth I have." It's been long enough that your brother probably can't remember much, if anything about your mother, but she couldn't have been like this.

Maybe that's the point. His first wife was one person and Holland Antoinette is very much another, saving everyone here from getting the wrong kinds of expectations in their heads. It's why their step siblings are struggling so much more, still clinging to ideas of fathers and brothers and sisters that the Descartes half cannot and will not ever personify. The days of being tucked in at night are long past and your parents have no more intention of trying to dredge up those days than you have of taking Idris out for ice cream the way you did Lyulf, back when he was still young enough that sugar and piggyback rides could earn you his allegiance for life. Regardless of whether or not the short fuse across the table from you can wrap her head around the idea that this tradition of being brazenly irritating may be as new as the hyphen in your last name, there are plenty of other things she has missed out on as well. You already have more unconditional love than you've ever actually needed, so she doesn't have to understand a damn thing. The only thing you care about being universally true between you and every member of your surrounding family, both new and old or then and now, is that you always get what you want from them.

Last Edit: Mar 23, 2014 6:08:43 GMT -5 by L△LIA

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gamemaker kelsier
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v5 Formatting Testing thread Mar 23, 2014 6:10:52 GMT -5

Quote

Post by gamemaker kelsier on Mar 23, 2014 6:10:52 GMT -5

we're just going to do a writing here to see how it looks with the scroll and all that u feel me

yay a writing

wooo

doin it

with the scrolly guy maybe coming u feel me

i luv scrolly guy

he such a pal u feel me

d'awww

this is real nice

holla at u scrolly guy

u so cute

like a button maybe u feel me

also yee cass I am vere proud

{ lyrics or quote
here maybe ;

W O L F G A N G
{ i was not magnificent ;

we're just going to do a writing here to see how it looks with the scroll and all that u feel me

yay a writing

wooo

doin it

with the scrolly guy maybe coming u feel me

i luv scrolly guy

he such a pal u feel me

d'awww

this is real nice

holla at u scrolly guy

u so cute

like a button maybe u feel me

also yee cass I am vere proud

W O L F G A N G
{Can't go home alone again
Need someone to numb the pain ;

we're just going to do a writing here to see how it looks with the scroll and all that u feel me

yay a writing

wooo

doin it

with the scrolly guy maybe coming u feel me

i luv scrolly guy

he such a pal u feel me

d'awww

this is real nice

holla at u scrolly guy

u so cute

like a button maybe u feel me

also yee cass I am vere proud

[presto]

[/presto]

W O L F G A N G C L A I R E C H U

{ c a n ' t g o h o m e
a l o n e a g a i n ;

I was gonna be deep and say that this template represnted something about life and death because sunflowers. Really, I just like sunflowers. That some nice vincent van gogh feels.

we're just going to do a writing here to see how it looks with the scroll and all that u feel me

yay a writing

wooo

doin it

with the scrolly guy maybe coming u feel me

i luv scrolly guy

he such a pal u feel me

d'awww

this is real nice

holla at u scrolly guy

u so cute

like a button maybe u feel me

[presto]

[/presto]

Last Edit: Mar 23, 2014 6:22:51 GMT -5 by gamemaker kelsier

compendium / avriel
clown car / pietro
2022 tracker / 2023 tracker / 2024 tracker

L△LIA
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v5 Formatting Testing thread Mar 23, 2014 6:15:29 GMT -5

Quote

Post by L△LIA on Mar 23, 2014 6:15:29 GMT -5

Hello, new friend. What a nice house you have. I really like the door. This is a good door. It would be better if you opened it. I can wait all day. I know you know that I know you know I'm out here. I told you yesterday I was coming. I swear I'm an okay guy. I must be, if I know how to appreciate a good door. After staring at this one for over an hour, I think I'm an expert.

I knock for approximately the seven hundred and eleventh time this afternoon, sitting cross-legged on the front stoop of a house most people would say I shouldn't be at. Most people, however, aren't on a mission like I am. Beside me is an old rucksack filled with snacks enough to last all day, four dozen brand new packs of sticky notes — although nearly ten and a half pads are already stuck to the door, as if it were papered in miniature advertising fliers — and more back-up pens and pencils than I hope I'll have a need for. That said, I have enough determination to wait here until I've used every last scrap of paper I've got.

Let's be honest, after that I'd just start writing on the siding of the house.

Making a row of twenty-five or so little colored squares, I proceed to write CALYPSO LETO in big, super stretchy block letters, imagining it to read the same way I'd say it aloud (it would sound like: Caaaaaaaalyyyyypsooooooo Leeeeeeetooooooooo) if I weren't banned from speaking to her because of a deal that seemed like a better idea at the time than it does when I'm locked outside with no voice for my complaints. Whatever. She'll relent eventually. Until then I amuse myself by stuffing yet more sticky notes through the mail slot, punctuating each delivery with another knock.

Hey. Hi. Hello. Hi hi hi. Are you going to admit you're here yet? Are you going to admit I'm here yet? I'm starting to get bored. There once was a man from Four. Who enjoyed employing whores. Whenever he was told he should conquer his demons. He replied, "but I'm just trying to be a good seaman!" And went back to work once more.

There are probably just as many reasons why I shouldn't resort to writing dirty limericks to pass the time as there are reasons for why I shouldn't be here, but my argument for one is the same as the other: This is just something I have to do for the sake of my own sanity. Whether or not it makes any logical sense, I swear, it's for the sake of hers too.

The breeze whistles between hundreds of miniature sheets of paper and, to their credit, they are too caught up in the sound to be torn away from it. For a few minutes my world is made up of nothing more than this thin song and my own stuttered laughter over the dirty limericks helping me to pass the time. There once was a man from Twelve. Who wondered how deep he could delve. Considering the number of sailors around here, one might think I could come up with something a little better — catchier or with more dramatic shock value — but despite the language I've grown up around in this District, I've always been so-so at best. Surely Noah could have outdone me. Into every nook and cranny. He'd mine each fanny. Until no one could sit for themselves. Still, I'm so caught up in my snickering that when the hush of the humming air splits with her yelling, the surprise hits me like a punch to the face. Bang pow, Nino, it says, take this, you little bitch.

A full-body spasm rings down my spine until I've jumped a solid two inches in my seat and fallen over with a silent scream. Ripred almighty. The once peaceful and content sticky notes swirl up in a chaotic whirlwind around me, blinding me as they attach themselves to my face, arms, legs, back, and suddenly I'm practically rolling around in them. Life has become a struggle. By the time I manage to pull myself up, the bits of paper have rallied with an attempt to crawl down my throat and I'm wondering how Calypso has managed to turn her wrath for me into the kind of voodoo magic that instills inanimate objects with vengeful heartbeats. Also, I can't help but think that if she is somehow responsible for this turn of events, then it's something of an over-reaction. However, when I turn my head up to her open window, half the pages of my most recent limerick stuck throughout my hair, I remember that I'm not the victim here. A simple shrug rises up in my shoulders in response to her question of whether or not I understand and I manage a lopsided smile as I shake my head at the demand that I leave. Not a chance. Pulling colored squares off my clothes, I begin folding them into teeny tiny paper airplanes and tossing them up at her. Most of them fall back down to thunk against the ground or my own face, but one or two manage to find her window by sheer force of will. Like me in the wake of my deal for silence, they don't say much, but like them, I'm pretty stubborn about hanging around anyway.

Knowing these questions were coming doesn't stop the grin from flickering off my face. I knew from the moment I saw her and decided to make a nuisance of myself within her life that sooner or later she'd begin wondering who I was. If I had stayed a stranger, it would have been easy to avoid. Maybe then I never would have had to admit the truth to her: I'm the one who was supposed to volunteer, but couldn't. It was always supposed to be me. For Fitz. For Noah. For Jude. Me, not Eye. Even if I had my voice right now, I don't think I could say it. I'm Nino Ripley. Whatever words I used to have continue to flutter away in the breeze as I stare up, doing nothing more than blinking as I wish for other ways to answer such simple questions of identity.

What it all comes down to, however, is that I'm here to become a better man. Right now I may hate so much of what it means to be Nino Ripley, but I don't think it's too late to change that and so I won't run away, even though a part of me is terrified of how this girl will react when the puzzle comes together. I don't want another person to hate me for things beyond my control. I have to find a way to stop the terrible events in my life from repeating themselves before I'm throwing punches in front of yet another gravestone and yelling once again at a girl in the middle of the street as if wounding another person will mend me. So I shake my head persistently because I'm not giving up. No way, no how. As for my name, I think she already knows it — my face televised over and over into the kind of fame I never wanted — it's just that I'm not the only one trying to convince myself it isn't true.

Neither of us want me to be who I am and when I thump my hand against my chest a little harder than necessary, I promise myself that smack will be that last I attack myself with the weight of my own self-loathing. The ribs beneath my shirt might be red, but that's not what I want her to see as I raise my arms up and begin something resembling a hula dance. Each time my hands swoop through the air like waves, I tell myself I am making small ripples of change as the memory of my mother's voice comes back to me in the tide. My little Ripples, she would say while kissing our cheeks, and suddenly my charade doesn't feel anything like a lie.

The way she says them makes it sound like a curse word, implying that uttering Ripley would be the sound of sacrilege, something too terrible and ugly to give a voice to. Appropriate, seeing as how she has already taken mine away. All I can do is look at her with the kind of long and uninterrupted stare usually reserved for lovers, because for this moment, I'd rather give up my soul than blink. Even though I'm here with good intentions, I can't bring myself to give her the satisfaction of looking ashamed. I won't allow yet another person to imply that the name Ripley means I don't have the right to do anything but die. Despite everything I've been telling myself in an attempt to avoid my habits of self-destruction and violence, it's all I can do not to simply unhinge my jaw and scream in her face. Vicious. Untamed. Wracked with madness. Sooner or later though, a meek reminder whispers, someone has to acknowledge the fact that I'm alive and how just maybe that's okay.

Except there's no way that person will be her. It can't be and so I don't cling to our game, allowing myself to slide past the edge of some inner cliff, because I'd rather lose a little bit of my petty pride than give up my right to be human. "Am I really what?" Something terribly bitter and wounded lives in my voice as I dare her to speak her thoughts outright. "You want to know if I'm really one of them? You tell me. Tell me who they are." Whatever part of me was dreading her hatred just a moment ago has been forgotten, replaced with a desperate, twisted need for her to just punch me in the face already. It's time to find out how alike we really are — she and I or she and Eye or Eye and I. I don't even know anymore. "Go ahead, tell me who I am." Come on, Calypso, try to break me. I'll let you crack my bones and yell all the obscenities you want and I swear, I won't raise a hand against you. All I want is to prove you wrong by showing you that I won't fall. I can be stronger than any fists or foul words, even if my name has become a curse, and when the dust and sticky notes settle we'll finally find out what we're both made of.

I tell myself she doesn't know. It's supposed to be alright because she doesn't know.

It's not.

Criminal she calls me and I want to curl up and die, almost the same way I felt as Ursula screamed at me for digging up and robbing graves. These days words like that are acid to me, regardless of who gives them a voice or how the sound echoes from their mouth. She doesn't know what that means to me or how badly I want to change my life and the way I'm stuck in this cycle of optionless wrongs. I'm trying and it's never enough and I don't need some girl who doesn't know what it's like to not know a better way telling me off like this. That's why it's not her follow-up sass that convinces me to stay, but the promise exchanged with the guy who told me it'd be worth my while to stick around. After what Eye did for Jude, I can swallow this down — one more time, pretending I'm not bothered by my night job and the bits and pieces of rumors floating around town that barely even hint at the gruesome truth. Pride is a daydream and maybe someday I'll have it, but not today.

"Lucky me," I say and my voice may be free from the sarcasm I so badly want to back it with, but the accompanying smile doesn't quite reach my eyes. "You do seem like the kind of girl who's easy to get along with." This time the joke of it wells up in my voice and I snort with a burst of laughter at her expense, because even if I had said that with a straight face, she'd have known I was totally full of shit after the ringer she's put me through. This girl has never been easy in her life. Not once. Awkward silence drifts through the air as I stubbornly stand my ground while also secretly swaying in a round of resistance spinning through my gut, fighting the urge to leave and tell myself I'll come back another day. "I have snacks," I'm already sitting back down and rummaging through my rucksack as I talk, distracting myself with a change in topic and the promise of apples and peanut butter. Apples and peanut butter. You'd think I still had a mother packing sack lunches for me with snacks like that, instead of being an orphan with nobody left but a brother half off his rocker and a girl who doesn't yet know how to love me back the way I love her. "You want some?" I don't tell her I don't want to share right now, that her bad mood has rubbed off on me and I want to go find a corner somewhere to pout, munching alone with all the annoyance I can fit into a series of snappy bites. If she doesn't know a thing like that, everything gets to stay alright, like it's supposed to be.

Sorry for the spam, double-checking some things via multiple browsers and this is the easiest way ^^;

( C H A R A C T E R S )

gamemaker kelsier
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6,046 POSTS
Pronouns: they/them
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“And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.” - steinbeck

v5 Formatting Testing thread Mar 23, 2014 7:13:29 GMT -5

Quote

Post by gamemaker kelsier on Mar 23, 2014 7:13:29 GMT -5

R A T
{ ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh }

pretend this is not a wolfgang bio bit ok

When I was young, the only physics that I studied were the interactions of my fist with the victim of the minute's face. It was quite an entertaining thing to behold, the skin moving before the skull, the reaction of the body, being pushed away by the force of my own strength. I was a good puncher, after years of being bullied for being the stupid one in school, I turned into a bully myself. What's that saying again? You either die a hero, or you live long enough to become the bad guy. Well I don't care what they say, sitting there and taking punches isn't heroic, not in the slightest. Not hitting back may be seen as the good thing to do, but I never understood it myself, besides I was tired of them calling me a pussy.

It's true when they say that there is a powerful feeling involved in hitting others. Scientists, psychologists to be precise, have a number of theories on it. One of those theories pertains to the idea that bullies punch because someone else has spent a lifetime using them as a punching bag. This is a rather good thought, as it does apply to me, however, there are some flaws. I believe it pertains more to the personality of the puncher. Psychologically, I think it makes more sense that the puncher in question has a chemical imbalance. That's what most mental diseases are after all, an improper release of chemicals in the brain from one electrode or another, that stops a guy from working properly. There is the theory that a bully bullies because he can. I think I fell under that one. I punched people because their faces were easy targets and I was often angry.

Why was I angry?

[presto]