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Welcome to The Cave of Dragonflies forums, where the smallest bugs live alongside the strongest dragons.
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Open Epilogue
- Thread starter Dragon
- Start date
Lars The Turtwig
Will probably not come back.
blazheirio889
Banned
- Pronoun
- she
Name: Leslie Young
Age: 14
Exact Birthday: September 9th, 1995. 4:02:36AM.
Gender: Female
Powers?: She can summon weak embers from the center of her palm. She uses these embers mainly to warm her hands. Other uses include setting things on fire, but she has to be very close to the object, and she can only set very flammable things on fire; so for example, hydrogen gas. However, if she's concentrated enough, she can set things like wood on fire, given several minutes. Strangely, though, these embers emit heat, but no light. One-and-a-half bar.
Personality: Leslie is a pretty ditzy teenager. She often has mood swings, crazily spinning in circles one moment and yelling at people the next. Most of the time, though, she's a cheerful kid with a bit of an inexplicable sense of humour.
Leslie is good at making people laugh (whether it's with her or at her she doesn't care) and is almost always bursting with energy. This makes her very adept at handling most of the tasks around town, though sometimes she gets chewed out for being forgetful or clumsy. There have been a lot of times when Leslie left out a crucial bit of work or broke some dishes because she tripped while holding them.
When asked for opinions, Leslie tends to be blunt and pessimistic in contrast to her behaviour. On her worst days, she can dampen the mood of the entire village with prophecies of doom (they usually don't come true, so don't worry).
As for hobbies, Leslie loves to draw, and nabs a pencil or a chunk of charcoal whenever she has free time. Also, she considers herself a 'vicious strategist' and will often sit there, staring vacantly at the sky while imagining some improbable situation in her mind and ways to get out of said situation. Sometimes she does this in the middle of work, or even in a conversation. When that happens, a light slap is what's needed to snap her out of it.
Appearance: Leslie took after her mother, who was one of those rare Chinese people. She's kind of short - 5'4", to be exact. She almost always has a sleepy expression on her face: narrow eyes with faint bags under them, and a straight-set mouth that is bordering on a frown. When she talks to people, though, her eyes suddenly seem wider and she smiles frequently. Her long black hair reaches to her upper to middle back. It's parted on the left side of the top of her head, and she usually tucks some of her hair behind her right ear, otherwise her bangs will cover her face and she'll look like a gigantic hairball. She keeps her hair cleaner than most people in town, because she can't stand it when it gets itchy, and washes it every five days or so.
As for clothes, she honestly couldn't care less what she wore. A white t-shirt, decorated with numerous ragged holes, grey sweatpants with mud and grass stains, and a pair of what used to be white socks make up her limited wardrobe. She ties a dark purple sweater around her waist, wearing it whenever she feels cold. Strung around her neck is a now-broken locket watch on a cheap metal chain.
Other: When Leslie gets into something, she really does get into it. She absolutely hates it when people interrupt her when she's drawing, organizing stuff, or doing anything that requires her full attention. She's also a pretty picky eater, and refuses to eat oranges unless people peel them for her. Also, her hands get cold very easily, and when they get cold they shiver and become hard to control. This is when she appreciates her powers most.
Age: 14
Exact Birthday: September 9th, 1995. 4:02:36AM.
Gender: Female
Powers?: She can summon weak embers from the center of her palm. She uses these embers mainly to warm her hands. Other uses include setting things on fire, but she has to be very close to the object, and she can only set very flammable things on fire; so for example, hydrogen gas. However, if she's concentrated enough, she can set things like wood on fire, given several minutes. Strangely, though, these embers emit heat, but no light. One-and-a-half bar.
Personality: Leslie is a pretty ditzy teenager. She often has mood swings, crazily spinning in circles one moment and yelling at people the next. Most of the time, though, she's a cheerful kid with a bit of an inexplicable sense of humour.
Leslie is good at making people laugh (whether it's with her or at her she doesn't care) and is almost always bursting with energy. This makes her very adept at handling most of the tasks around town, though sometimes she gets chewed out for being forgetful or clumsy. There have been a lot of times when Leslie left out a crucial bit of work or broke some dishes because she tripped while holding them.
When asked for opinions, Leslie tends to be blunt and pessimistic in contrast to her behaviour. On her worst days, she can dampen the mood of the entire village with prophecies of doom (they usually don't come true, so don't worry).
As for hobbies, Leslie loves to draw, and nabs a pencil or a chunk of charcoal whenever she has free time. Also, she considers herself a 'vicious strategist' and will often sit there, staring vacantly at the sky while imagining some improbable situation in her mind and ways to get out of said situation. Sometimes she does this in the middle of work, or even in a conversation. When that happens, a light slap is what's needed to snap her out of it.
Appearance: Leslie took after her mother, who was one of those rare Chinese people. She's kind of short - 5'4", to be exact. She almost always has a sleepy expression on her face: narrow eyes with faint bags under them, and a straight-set mouth that is bordering on a frown. When she talks to people, though, her eyes suddenly seem wider and she smiles frequently. Her long black hair reaches to her upper to middle back. It's parted on the left side of the top of her head, and she usually tucks some of her hair behind her right ear, otherwise her bangs will cover her face and she'll look like a gigantic hairball. She keeps her hair cleaner than most people in town, because she can't stand it when it gets itchy, and washes it every five days or so.
As for clothes, she honestly couldn't care less what she wore. A white t-shirt, decorated with numerous ragged holes, grey sweatpants with mud and grass stains, and a pair of what used to be white socks make up her limited wardrobe. She ties a dark purple sweater around her waist, wearing it whenever she feels cold. Strung around her neck is a now-broken locket watch on a cheap metal chain.
Other: When Leslie gets into something, she really does get into it. She absolutely hates it when people interrupt her when she's drawing, organizing stuff, or doing anything that requires her full attention. She's also a pretty picky eater, and refuses to eat oranges unless people peel them for her. Also, her hands get cold very easily, and when they get cold they shiver and become hard to control. This is when she appreciates her powers most.
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Erif
...is magical
Woah, this sounds like loads of fun, and this
Can I not have a power now if seven people already have them? Because it seems like there are seven people here-
So, assuming that I can have a power, it needs to be controlled by my hands?
Edit: Ah, just read over all the profiles, glad my character idea wasn't already taken (even though Chanon took my first idea for a power D:). I thought it was really cool how BlazieAura made a character with a power that's almost completely useless. Something i would never do. :/ But yeah, I think I know what I'm gonna make now, just need my questions to be answered. we ned moar 6 yr olds, gaise/
made my day. I may as well ask these questions now, though, before I get started:
Can I not have a power now if seven people already have them? Because it seems like there are seven people here-
So, assuming that I can have a power, it needs to be controlled by my hands?
Edit: Ah, just read over all the profiles, glad my character idea wasn't already taken (even though Chanon took my first idea for a power D:). I thought it was really cool how BlazieAura made a character with a power that's almost completely useless. Something i would never do. :/ But yeah, I think I know what I'm gonna make now, just need my questions to be answered. we ned moar 6 yr olds, gaise/
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Blazie
Nothin's ever gonna bring us down~
Thank you. =D I figured that everyone would jump for grabbing powers, and I wanted one too, but I figured I had to mix it up. And hey, it actually helped me develop my character…yeah. Thanks. ^^
Erif
...is magical
No, I won’t be writing this formally in the RP. >< I found it quite hard to come up with the best power for my character, and it was also kinda hard with the age cap being 15, and I was also surprised you didn’t want us to write a biography, but it’s all good. Here it is.
Name – Tristan (Renwick) Altobella
Age - 14 Exact Birthday - January 2, 1995, No time.
Gender - Male
Powers – Three Bars. Feralism, or, enhanced human abilities. I.E. superhuman sense, reflexes, strength, and speed are much more potent than a ordinary human beings. He also has an easier time doing things like crawling, leaping, climbing, and walking on all fours.
Personality – Tristan has a split personality. Not necessarily meaning that there is an ulterior being behind his outer shell, but his insanity has driven him to think, speak, and act with more than one personality. These alterations are all completely different. One of his personas is a nice, easygoing fellow who tries to help out in any situation, even though his leadership skills are lacking. He just tries to prevent fights and solve problems, but is never very successful at it. Nevertheless, this side of Tristan is mostly confident of his abilities, his social skills, and everything else for that matter. Yet he tries to avoid using his powers, only if he’s forced. This per-so-na is classified as “Tristan”.
The other, more often, half of his sanity is fixated on a darker, deeper state of mind, which greatly contradicts Tristan’s regular mental outlook. This is classified as “Renwick”. He is lazy and uncaring, only setting goals for his personal gain and increase in power. Sometimes he reaches the point where his arrogance overcomes his ability to make good decisions, often causing him to leap into battles head first without a good strategy. He also takes everything as a joke, the food shortages, the disappearances, everything, and once stated that, “These powers are God’s gift to us all…” to his brother, who he eventually killed.
His last embodiment is an empty shell. Nothingness. He could sit for hours, staring into space, thinking about nothing, reacting to nothing, and just stay blissful and oblivious to everything.
Appearance – Tall and slender, but slouches a lot so his actually height is often mistaken. Has long, blonde hair that comes down over his mismatched eyes, one complete gray and one blue. He used to keep it long to cover them up, but now he keeps it long because he can’t be bothered to cut it. All of his other features resemble those of a normal teenager. He usually wears anything he can find on the streets, but his selections are usually baggy clothes. Mostly wears black or gray cargos with tears on the legs, and can almost always be found wearing a Pink Floyd shirt that says “Animals Tour ‘77” With a multi-colored pig above it. And black, worn-out and muddy Converse. <-(This paragraph doesn’t connect to well, forgive me.)
Other – When Tristan gets into arguments and fights, he plans to finish them. Watch your back.
-------------
I know you'll probably say know, but I may as well ask... can my two personalities have two different powers? Y/N?
Name – Tristan (Renwick) Altobella
Age - 14 Exact Birthday - January 2, 1995, No time.
Gender - Male
Powers – Three Bars. Feralism, or, enhanced human abilities. I.E. superhuman sense, reflexes, strength, and speed are much more potent than a ordinary human beings. He also has an easier time doing things like crawling, leaping, climbing, and walking on all fours.
Personality – Tristan has a split personality. Not necessarily meaning that there is an ulterior being behind his outer shell, but his insanity has driven him to think, speak, and act with more than one personality. These alterations are all completely different. One of his personas is a nice, easygoing fellow who tries to help out in any situation, even though his leadership skills are lacking. He just tries to prevent fights and solve problems, but is never very successful at it. Nevertheless, this side of Tristan is mostly confident of his abilities, his social skills, and everything else for that matter. Yet he tries to avoid using his powers, only if he’s forced. This per-so-na is classified as “Tristan”.
The other, more often, half of his sanity is fixated on a darker, deeper state of mind, which greatly contradicts Tristan’s regular mental outlook. This is classified as “Renwick”. He is lazy and uncaring, only setting goals for his personal gain and increase in power. Sometimes he reaches the point where his arrogance overcomes his ability to make good decisions, often causing him to leap into battles head first without a good strategy. He also takes everything as a joke, the food shortages, the disappearances, everything, and once stated that, “These powers are God’s gift to us all…” to his brother, who he eventually killed.
His last embodiment is an empty shell. Nothingness. He could sit for hours, staring into space, thinking about nothing, reacting to nothing, and just stay blissful and oblivious to everything.
Appearance – Tall and slender, but slouches a lot so his actually height is often mistaken. Has long, blonde hair that comes down over his mismatched eyes, one complete gray and one blue. He used to keep it long to cover them up, but now he keeps it long because he can’t be bothered to cut it. All of his other features resemble those of a normal teenager. He usually wears anything he can find on the streets, but his selections are usually baggy clothes. Mostly wears black or gray cargos with tears on the legs, and can almost always be found wearing a Pink Floyd shirt that says “Animals Tour ‘77” With a multi-colored pig above it. And black, worn-out and muddy Converse. <-(This paragraph doesn’t connect to well, forgive me.)
Other – When Tristan gets into arguments and fights, he plans to finish them. Watch your back.
-------------
I know you'll probably say know, but I may as well ask... can my two personalities have two different powers? Y/N?
Dragon
disaster pigeon
- Pronoun
- she
Well. Uh.
Just to clarify, there's no history slot since there's been no history for the past two years. ;O Everyone's been doing pretty much the same thing, I figured.
His powers aren't really controlled through his hands, but I'd guess it's fine since there's two canon people who can turn invisible or move retardedly fast. So accepted..
You could let his two personalities have different powers, but they'd each have to be like, one and a half bars.
Just to clarify, there's no history slot since there's been no history for the past two years. ;O Everyone's been doing pretty much the same thing, I figured.
His powers aren't really controlled through his hands, but I'd guess it's fine since there's two canon people who can turn invisible or move retardedly fast. So accepted..
You could let his two personalities have different powers, but they'd each have to be like, one and a half bars.
Erif
...is magical
But- wha- ahh *looks at Flora* D: I guess I could have the focal point of is powers be around he hands, instead of his legs and whatnot. I dunno. :/ Screw two powers then, I'll prolly just make a second character later on.
For history, I meant what happened to the characters before the event happened, like their prior life to being all powerful. Not pushing though, just wonderin'.
For history, I meant what happened to the characters before the event happened, like their prior life to being all powerful. Not pushing though, just wonderin'.
Dragon
disaster pigeon
- Pronoun
- she
*cough* Uh, plotstuffs. Nobody knows that the person who wrote the diary entry is dead/gone/poofed yet. That's what we/you find out inna bit. ;O
----
November 29
Aquila pulled the remnants of a jacket tighter around her, huffing unhappily. It didn't snow in the FAYZ.. from what she remembered, it didn't snow in town before the FAYZ came anyways. Though it got a bit colder, even though that didn't mean much. And it was almost December. After December was the new year and then her birthday. After that.. well, there was no after that. With a kind of smirk, Aquila lifted her hands and floated off the ground. Time to go find something to eat.
With a flick of her imaginary wings, as she imagined it, Aquila rose higher into the sky and looked down. Unlike the birds she believed her powers resembled, her eyesight remained the same and she couldn't see very far. It wasn't like she was going too high today anyways, it was colder and harder to breathe up in the sky. Touching the church's steeple as she passed, Aquila dipped down into the town's center and landed ungracefully. Wonderful.
Standing and brushing herself off, she looked around with a keen eye. There were usually others around by now, even in the morning. Sleeping too long was bad for your health. Mildly surprised, Aquila spotted a book hanging off the edge of a bench, and went over to take a look at it. Had someone been reading? Books were some form of rare, and usually weren't just left around. Picking it up, Aquila began flipping through the pages and quickly discovered it was a diary or journal.
Feeling no shame at reading someone's diary and secrets, she found the last entry and begun to read it. For a few seconds, her eyes scanned the page in mild interest until she came to the last sentence. Aquila had no doubt about whose diary it was now.
"Shit," she muttered, and sat on the bench. Usually, something like this would be of no concern to her, since it was clear that the writer had poofed, but he was one of the more important people in town and would have been the first person Aquila would have shown it to. Putting the diary on the bench beside her, she sighed and waited for someone to appear. Now they really would all die.
((Anyone wanna help name the person? >_> I'm out of originality today.))
----
November 29
Aquila pulled the remnants of a jacket tighter around her, huffing unhappily. It didn't snow in the FAYZ.. from what she remembered, it didn't snow in town before the FAYZ came anyways. Though it got a bit colder, even though that didn't mean much. And it was almost December. After December was the new year and then her birthday. After that.. well, there was no after that. With a kind of smirk, Aquila lifted her hands and floated off the ground. Time to go find something to eat.
With a flick of her imaginary wings, as she imagined it, Aquila rose higher into the sky and looked down. Unlike the birds she believed her powers resembled, her eyesight remained the same and she couldn't see very far. It wasn't like she was going too high today anyways, it was colder and harder to breathe up in the sky. Touching the church's steeple as she passed, Aquila dipped down into the town's center and landed ungracefully. Wonderful.
Standing and brushing herself off, she looked around with a keen eye. There were usually others around by now, even in the morning. Sleeping too long was bad for your health. Mildly surprised, Aquila spotted a book hanging off the edge of a bench, and went over to take a look at it. Had someone been reading? Books were some form of rare, and usually weren't just left around. Picking it up, Aquila began flipping through the pages and quickly discovered it was a diary or journal.
Feeling no shame at reading someone's diary and secrets, she found the last entry and begun to read it. For a few seconds, her eyes scanned the page in mild interest until she came to the last sentence. Aquila had no doubt about whose diary it was now.
"Shit," she muttered, and sat on the bench. Usually, something like this would be of no concern to her, since it was clear that the writer had poofed, but he was one of the more important people in town and would have been the first person Aquila would have shown it to. Putting the diary on the bench beside her, she sighed and waited for someone to appear. Now they really would all die.
((Anyone wanna help name the person? >_> I'm out of originality today.))
blazheirio889
Banned
- Pronoun
- she
((Uh... I'm no good with names, but if you insist, I'll name him...?))
A sleeping figure, cocooned in a blanket, mumbled and shifted. Awakened by the cold again... Leslie thought to herself with a contemptuous smirk. She hated the cold. It would've been fine if it snowed - snow was kind of like winter's consolation prize to her - but it didn't, and the winter months were what she came to dread most.
Her stomach growled, and she grimaced. She should get something to eat. With a dramatic fling, she tossed her blanket to the side, and clambered to her feet, her legs made weak from the long night's sleep. After tossing on her tattered sweater, she idly summoned two identical little flames from her palms and closed her hands around them, the misfit embers warming up her shivering hands quickly. Leslie gave a stretch and opened her mouth wide in a yawn before breaking out in a jog.
When life was as it was supposed to be, before the FAYZ came, she was a horrible endurance runner, but four years of living in constant fear and tension had honed her stamina. She ran on, eying the dilapidated buildings around her with distaste. Briefly she considered going into some of the larger ones, but there was always the off chance that another kid was still sleeping there, and she certainly didn't want to risk their wrath. At any rate, any food in the buildings away from the central marketplace was either spoiled or already eaten.
By now, Leslie more or less knew the town by heart. Turn right at the T-intersection here, keep on jogging for two minutes or so - hold on, who was that? As she drew nearer, she recognized Aquila's black hair and short stature.
"Hey, 'Quila!" Leslie called, waving one arm about wildly in her usual greeting. The fire in her palm, unable to stand up to the wind, sputtered out; she cursed mildly under her breath before sparking it once more. "Y'wanna go get some food together? We're... hey, is that a book?" The teenage girl had reached the bench Aquila was sitting on. Leslie stuck her hands in her pockets, killing the flames as she did so - she definitely didn't want her pants set on fire or anything. She craned her neck forward and skimmed over the words, eyes widening in horror as she neared the abrupt end of the journal.
"Shit... Not him." Leslie plopped down on the wooden bench beside Aquila. It creaked in protest. All of the fourteen or so kids knew that their leader, Lex Anderson, was nearing his fifteenth birthday, but Leslie didn't expect him to disappear that soon. Now they were leaderless, at the mercy of the grossly mutated animals lurking around the town's border -
Her stomach rumbled again. And food, Leslie realized with a cringe. Crap, if we don't poof, or get eaten, we'll starve to death.
((Okay, turns out my imagination isn't at its peak today, either >.> Can't think of a better name beyond that; if you guys can think of anything better, I'll edit my post to fit.))
A sleeping figure, cocooned in a blanket, mumbled and shifted. Awakened by the cold again... Leslie thought to herself with a contemptuous smirk. She hated the cold. It would've been fine if it snowed - snow was kind of like winter's consolation prize to her - but it didn't, and the winter months were what she came to dread most.
Her stomach growled, and she grimaced. She should get something to eat. With a dramatic fling, she tossed her blanket to the side, and clambered to her feet, her legs made weak from the long night's sleep. After tossing on her tattered sweater, she idly summoned two identical little flames from her palms and closed her hands around them, the misfit embers warming up her shivering hands quickly. Leslie gave a stretch and opened her mouth wide in a yawn before breaking out in a jog.
When life was as it was supposed to be, before the FAYZ came, she was a horrible endurance runner, but four years of living in constant fear and tension had honed her stamina. She ran on, eying the dilapidated buildings around her with distaste. Briefly she considered going into some of the larger ones, but there was always the off chance that another kid was still sleeping there, and she certainly didn't want to risk their wrath. At any rate, any food in the buildings away from the central marketplace was either spoiled or already eaten.
By now, Leslie more or less knew the town by heart. Turn right at the T-intersection here, keep on jogging for two minutes or so - hold on, who was that? As she drew nearer, she recognized Aquila's black hair and short stature.
"Hey, 'Quila!" Leslie called, waving one arm about wildly in her usual greeting. The fire in her palm, unable to stand up to the wind, sputtered out; she cursed mildly under her breath before sparking it once more. "Y'wanna go get some food together? We're... hey, is that a book?" The teenage girl had reached the bench Aquila was sitting on. Leslie stuck her hands in her pockets, killing the flames as she did so - she definitely didn't want her pants set on fire or anything. She craned her neck forward and skimmed over the words, eyes widening in horror as she neared the abrupt end of the journal.
"Shit... Not him." Leslie plopped down on the wooden bench beside Aquila. It creaked in protest. All of the fourteen or so kids knew that their leader, Lex Anderson, was nearing his fifteenth birthday, but Leslie didn't expect him to disappear that soon. Now they were leaderless, at the mercy of the grossly mutated animals lurking around the town's border -
Her stomach rumbled again. And food, Leslie realized with a cringe. Crap, if we don't poof, or get eaten, we'll starve to death.
((Okay, turns out my imagination isn't at its peak today, either >.> Can't think of a better name beyond that; if you guys can think of anything better, I'll edit my post to fit.))
Erif
...is magical
OoC: Eww, Lex Anderson? >< How about Richter Baker? Oh shit, it's November 29, and my birfday is January 1. I might have to change that, or my character might go poof.
_________________
"Kaaw, Kaaw!"
As the mighty Raven screeched it gracefully soared through the skies, with its overly ginormous wings, breaking the morning silence of the small, mutated town. It was searching for its breakfast, like animals of the same nature often do, but unfortunately, the great bird couldn't walk just into the kitchen and fix some eggs, maybe a little bacon. It had to hunt for the food, a extraneous task God has left for mere animals, not humans. Yet here were kids, starving their lives out for food, not knowing when they'll get their next meal. That wasn't the Raven's problem though. It swooped down without a sound, wrenching its enormous wretched beak open, and swallowed up a small cat in one motion, no biting or chewing. And the boy wasn't watching or thinking about any of this.
But the boy didn't watch anything. He didn't hear anything either. He wasn't thinking about the lack of food in his stomach, or the cold wind piercing his skin. What was he doing, then? Nothing. He just lay there, staring blankly at the dawning sun. No thoughts, no human behaviors, just nothing. Like most nights, he had been awake for hours, not able to sleep in fear of the things to come. Then he would slip into his catatonic rest for a long, long time. And, like most days, a small grin crossed his face.
Ren was awake.
He sat up, going into his normal morning procedure: he'd tie his worn-down shoes first, and then stand up and wipe any crap that had gotten onto him over the night. He would stretch out all of his limbs, jog in place, do a split, more exercises... finally, he'd go over to one of his thin, plaster walls, and punch a hole into it. Walls filled with holes, two hundred and nine holes now, to be exact. Just another day in the Fallout, he thought. Ren wondered up into the sky, through the large hole in the roof, pondering the question, "Will I be able to kill something today?" This was all standard procedure. But now was not the time for that, now he was hungry. And he knew a shortcut
_________________
"Kaaw, Kaaw!"
As the mighty Raven screeched it gracefully soared through the skies, with its overly ginormous wings, breaking the morning silence of the small, mutated town. It was searching for its breakfast, like animals of the same nature often do, but unfortunately, the great bird couldn't walk just into the kitchen and fix some eggs, maybe a little bacon. It had to hunt for the food, a extraneous task God has left for mere animals, not humans. Yet here were kids, starving their lives out for food, not knowing when they'll get their next meal. That wasn't the Raven's problem though. It swooped down without a sound, wrenching its enormous wretched beak open, and swallowed up a small cat in one motion, no biting or chewing. And the boy wasn't watching or thinking about any of this.
But the boy didn't watch anything. He didn't hear anything either. He wasn't thinking about the lack of food in his stomach, or the cold wind piercing his skin. What was he doing, then? Nothing. He just lay there, staring blankly at the dawning sun. No thoughts, no human behaviors, just nothing. Like most nights, he had been awake for hours, not able to sleep in fear of the things to come. Then he would slip into his catatonic rest for a long, long time. And, like most days, a small grin crossed his face.
Ren was awake.
He sat up, going into his normal morning procedure: he'd tie his worn-down shoes first, and then stand up and wipe any crap that had gotten onto him over the night. He would stretch out all of his limbs, jog in place, do a split, more exercises... finally, he'd go over to one of his thin, plaster walls, and punch a hole into it. Walls filled with holes, two hundred and nine holes now, to be exact. Just another day in the Fallout, he thought. Ren wondered up into the sky, through the large hole in the roof, pondering the question, "Will I be able to kill something today?" This was all standard procedure. But now was not the time for that, now he was hungry. And he knew a shortcut
Dragon
disaster pigeon
- Pronoun
- she
((Nah, you won't poof. I made it closer to peoples' (our characters') birthdays on purpose, since.. >:3 As for names.. uh. It's not that important, but if you feel we have to argue about it I'll visit a name generator. .. Allyn Eamon? Keegan Merlyn? Darion Hagop? what the fuck, name generator))
Aquila looked up to see Leslie, and watched as she flipped through the book. "Oh shit, right?" she responded, rather drily. "So.. where are we gonna get stuff to eat? It's been tough enough for the last.. whatever, but you know. Do you have any pets," she asked, talking to herself more than anything. Any animals left were all gone, dead, or mutated, pets were out of the question.
"So. The fields we grew stuff in.." With a sigh, Aquila lay back against the bench. "Looks like it's time to go raid houses again? Everyone's probably up by now, so we don't have to worry about waking someone up and getting attacked for it." Turning to Leslie suddenly, she frowned. "How would you want to die? Would you want to poof, get killed by animals, get killed by the other kids, or starve to death?" Without saying, there were probably another hundred or so ways to die, but still.
Aquila looked up to see Leslie, and watched as she flipped through the book. "Oh shit, right?" she responded, rather drily. "So.. where are we gonna get stuff to eat? It's been tough enough for the last.. whatever, but you know. Do you have any pets," she asked, talking to herself more than anything. Any animals left were all gone, dead, or mutated, pets were out of the question.
"So. The fields we grew stuff in.." With a sigh, Aquila lay back against the bench. "Looks like it's time to go raid houses again? Everyone's probably up by now, so we don't have to worry about waking someone up and getting attacked for it." Turning to Leslie suddenly, she frowned. "How would you want to die? Would you want to poof, get killed by animals, get killed by the other kids, or starve to death?" Without saying, there were probably another hundred or so ways to die, but still.
Blazie
Nothin's ever gonna bring us down~
Cathie stiffly stretched. While chairs were better than nothing, they generally weren't too comfortable for sleeping. Standing up, she paused. Ugh. Cold again. The end of the year was soon approaching, then. She didn't mind, but it would be interesting when more of the others started poofing…
She stuffed her hands in her sweater pockets and left to find more people. Not that she cared for them, of course. But finding food usually required multiple people, and they'd especially need to be efficient today—no food for a day generally sucked, and she'd slept in.
Cathie came upon Aquila and Leslie in the town's center. She hadn't met any others; she assumed they had slept in, too. They seemed to be hunched over a book of some sort, and, coming closer, she heard Aquila say something about getting attacked and the various ways to die. "What's spurred on this morbidity, guys?" she asked flatly. "Finally accepted we're going to die no matter what? And we should be getting food, not reading."
((…Riley O'Neill? Wayne…Redson?))
She stuffed her hands in her sweater pockets and left to find more people. Not that she cared for them, of course. But finding food usually required multiple people, and they'd especially need to be efficient today—no food for a day generally sucked, and she'd slept in.
Cathie came upon Aquila and Leslie in the town's center. She hadn't met any others; she assumed they had slept in, too. They seemed to be hunched over a book of some sort, and, coming closer, she heard Aquila say something about getting attacked and the various ways to die. "What's spurred on this morbidity, guys?" she asked flatly. "Finally accepted we're going to die no matter what? And we should be getting food, not reading."
((…Riley O'Neill? Wayne…Redson?))
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blazheirio889
Banned
- Pronoun
- she
((I just randomly made up the name by smashing two of my friends' names together. I told you, imagination is running low these days :|))
"I'd actually rather get eaten," Leslie replied to Aquila without missing a beat. "Starving to death is slow, torturous and painful, and I still have almost a year before I poof. Getting eaten - short and sweet, though the stomach acids might burn. Hey, Cathie." The short Asian girl turned towards the newcomer. "Y'even know who's journal this is? Look." She pushed the book towards Cathie.
Leslie's stomach growled again, even louder this time. She cringed for the third time since she woke up. Abruptly she rose to her feet and shook them out before stretching her arms over her head. "I'm going to find some food - like I said, I don't wanna starve. Anyone coming?" A fwwsh was heard as she summoned the embers from her palms again, warming her frigid fingers once more.
"I'd actually rather get eaten," Leslie replied to Aquila without missing a beat. "Starving to death is slow, torturous and painful, and I still have almost a year before I poof. Getting eaten - short and sweet, though the stomach acids might burn. Hey, Cathie." The short Asian girl turned towards the newcomer. "Y'even know who's journal this is? Look." She pushed the book towards Cathie.
Leslie's stomach growled again, even louder this time. She cringed for the third time since she woke up. Abruptly she rose to her feet and shook them out before stretching her arms over her head. "I'm going to find some food - like I said, I don't wanna starve. Anyone coming?" A fwwsh was heard as she summoned the embers from her palms again, warming her frigid fingers once more.