|
|
Post by {Miss Toxic} on Aug 15, 2009 11:39:44 GMT -5
Rules;
All fantasy/supernatural/etc are allowed to join along
Pleassseee no god moding? >>;;
Don't kill off characters/injure them gravely unless you have permission to
Keep it PG-13? All graphic things can be taken to PM and role-played out if you wish it. :)
Location: Deep within the Taiga Forest.
Time Period: Twilight.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Trudging along slowly, his pale skin and dark green coat, jeans, and boots seemed to merge with the trees and snow littering the surrounding area. His fangs were extended in sheer starvation. He hadn't hunted in months. Deep chocolate eyes, hidden by dark sunglasses, darted from sky to ground rapidly, foggy breath clouding their lenses.
Zoltan didn't understand it. Why couldn't he smell anything? The only scent in the air was of the trees that seemed to be trying to choke him. Suddenly, Zoltan froze. A new scent had broken through the over-powering scent of the trees. Food possibly? Although the scent was lingering and definitely there, he heard nothing but the trees rustling gently...
|
|
|
|
Post by Chaos on Aug 15, 2009 16:47:27 GMT -5
((I've really wanted to play my new Hogwarts charrie I made for that other RP site but she's not being approved yet and I'm impatient. XD Soooo I's gonna put her here??))
Deyanira Lestrange walked the clearing in the forest trying to find some trace of information about her mother, anything. She was uncertain as to what she might find, or even why her trails of information had led her here, but she didn't care. Escaping the others was enough, and she was in desperate need to understand why she had been shut away for most of her life. Who she was. Who her parents had been.
As she walked, her black dress tapered behind her, the wind blowing against her walk gently. She wasn't walking fast, although she hadn't been in that dreadful basement in years, she still enjoyed admiring the feel of the wind in her curly dark hair, stinging her eyes, hugging her waist. The moon made her eyes glow pale in the surrounding dark, almost a grayish color.
As she heard a faint rustling in the distance behind a wall of underbrush, she felt on her leg for the holster there. She unfastened her wand and held it in front of her. She knew something like this would happen if she wandered a creepy deserted forest all by herself. But she preferred to die this way than chained to a wall with no idea of her past, and who said she would die anyway? She held her wand steadily, prepared to kill if need be.
|
|
Devilwing~
Frequent RPer
"Kukulcan: Small purple wolf with kickass power. Noun."
Posts: 101
|
Post by Devilwing~ on Aug 16, 2009 7:21:45 GMT -5
(( I'm going to take this as chance to get out... dun dun dun! ZAPHIR. Hahahahaha. *evil laugh* ))
Zaphir's boots crunched on the leaves. Crunch, crunch, crunch. Dead leaves, just like his soul, really. His depressing mood was ruined only by the circulating voices in his head, one of which risked muttering come now, child. Life is not that bad. The voice that was his own, the one that he knew as 'Zap' had only the reply, try it, try it and find out for yourself you old coot. Because that was the point; his insanity, if it could be called such, ran in his species. Multiple personalities, voices, strange gaps in the memory. You were considered weird if it didn't happen to you.
He made a sinister figure in the forest's pale night time light. With porcelain skin, white hair that came down to his waist and a runner's quick figure, he looked like a ghost or avenging wraith. Then one came to the florescent, faintly glowing yellow eyes and the imagination stopped trying to find anything more terrifying than the natural light that burned within them. The wolf-boy, shapeshifter extraordinare, completed this image by taking a violent drag on his glowing cigarette and blowing out a smoke ring.
"Bloody forests. Don't see what my race sees in the things. Nice 'n' dark, that's about it, but there's nothing to... control."
He wasn't the average shapeshifter. Usually they were small, confused things that spent their time trying to find their true shape and always failing. Zaphir knew he was destined to rule among humans and he fitted in very well. He wore a long trench coat, down to his ankles and black velvet clothes for silence. The gun in the holster on his hip was never drawn in anger, but more there for show.
Ah, a sound. Finally, something interested in this dumb collection of trees. He headed towards the sound, making no attempt to hide the crunch, crunch, snap, crunch of his boots over the forest floor. He could creep up, he could be silent. What was the point? He was a white figure in a grey/green forest. He would be seen no matter how silent he was.
|
|
|
|
Post by {Miss Toxic} on Aug 16, 2009 12:48:02 GMT -5
Zoltan blinked slowly, coming to the realization that there was not one, but two approaching scents. One was a shape shifter. He knew their scent well. But he still couldn't place a label on the other scent. It definitely wasn't food. Neither of them were. With a somewhat disappointed sigh, Zoltan began to head towards the unfamiliar scent opposed to the scent of the shape shifter. He'd always been the curious one in his family.
Shoving away bothersome tree branches, Zoltan saw her. All that really stuck out about her was the fact she was holding something in her hand. A stick? ...A wand?
Confusion clouded Zoltan's face as he observed her carefully. She didn't seem to be too much of a threat, but you never know. An easy-going, you-can-trust-me smile crossed across his relaxed features and he lumbered out from the trees that hid him well. "Why...hello, miss."
Zoltan gave a small nod, the grin still clear on his face. "I'm Zoltan. Zoltan Summers. A bit of an ironic name to have in this place. And who might you be, miss?"
His tone was cool, calm, and collected. Not a trace of the distrust he felt was audible in his voice, nor was it apparent in his face.
|
|
