Isallia, a parallel world of technological advancement, where steam rules as king. Here is where your alternate self resides, where battle royales are held to entertain royals and kill off flawed and where a darker plot to the apocalyptic world resides.
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This topic is an Out Of Character part of the roleplay, ?Falsum Duomum?. Anything posted here will also show up there.Topic Tags:
Forum for completely Out of Character (OOC) discussion, based around whatever is happening In Character (IC). Discuss plans, storylines, and events; Recruit for your roleplaying game, or find a GM for your playergroup.As detailed in the synopsis, here is where you may post a written sample of your work to be reviewed for approval~
I fell into that purgatory between waking and dreaming, the transient space existing between conscious and subconscious. It was beautiful... ephemeral. And I could not help but wish to stay forever.
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Igari - Member for 1 years
Was it the right or the left arm that would move first? Jet wondered as his opponent seized him up- er, down. Jet could already tell that this boy was underestimating his abilities. While it was an obvious mistake- anyone should know not to do that in the Great Jet's presence- Jet didn't allow him to know as of now. Jet would play with him a little before demonstrating what a true fighter could do when put to such a task. This foolish challenger would find himself on the floor, panting before Jet could even be punched once! It was a fool's goal to defeat the Wondrous Jet at any form of combat. Whether in words, looks, fists, or even weapons- Jet knew how to beat anyone set in front of him. This was what his past had done to him, and this is what he found himself aspiring to do. This boy's chance was nonexistent, and he hadn't even realized it. Jet would use that against him, for this was his chance to prove himself.
"What is your name?" Jet demanded, his smile widening to a cocky grin. They were in the school's dance room, which was hardly used during the hours Jet had found himself challenged by this boy. Without even bothering to ask the imbecile's name, Jet had brought him here- a room with no obstacle that could hinder their fist-to-fist sparring match. It had a thin hard floor, devoid of cracks and blemishes that could usually be found when laying down linoleum, in a shade of yellowing gray. The walls were staggering white, reflecting the obnoxiously bright lights above. It was nearly blinding when accompanied by the large mirror that replaced the wall to his left. The wooden door was the only splash of color the room constantly held, stained red and cutting through the mirror at its center. The only other color in the room would be that of the clothes the boys wore, which on Jet happened to be a loose-fitting blue tee and baggy purple sweats. The other boy was wearing a neater red shirt with an orange and black logo on it, his denim jeans being the only suggestion at his being anything other than lazy. As for Jet, his selection allowed more ease of movement.
He wondered vaguely why the boy had chosen to challenge the Marvelous Jet in the first place. Many didn't even look at him for fear of him exploding about his slight figure and them "looking down" on him for it. Yet this boy looked almost smug as he faced Jet, his fists raised, back arched forward as he looked at Jet.
'Don't you just adore that wonderful feeling of sheer terror as you face me? Don't you just crave the very essence of frightening yourself to the core- to feel that sickness rise in your chest like a crystallized fever? You must have some adoration for it if you dared to come before me as you have.' He wanted to tell the boy. He wanted to taunt the boy at his own foolish stupidity, to make him realize what he was doing was the worst mistake of his life.
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Season of the Star - Member for 0 years
The figure walked down the street, a long pole with a blade on the end hitched over one shoulder. His steps were slow and purposeful. He had a little time to burn before he had to be at the training grounds. It was bothering his escorts, but he did not speed up in the least. His eyes were shining silver in his relaxed state. Normally they were brown with content, however today he felt more of a spiritual openness, which made him? not quite happy, but something akin to it. He caught his reflection in a window and smiled at his reflection. He looked like something from ancient history, rather than a dangerous mutant training to fight in a gladiator-like arena. He recognized the irony of his situation, and laughed internally. In a gladiator battle, he ?being the only participant even closely resembling a real gladiator- would be the only one who did not fit in. He started to spin the Naginata through his fingers lazily, keeping the length under his complete control. People passing by gave him a wide berth; fearing the blade that swung around seemingly dangerously. Seeing his guards? glares, he immediately stopped it against his shoulder with a snap. He sighed; rather disappointed, as his eyes lost a little of their shine. Too bad. he thought to himself. There was so much he wanted to do, but had to restrain his self in order to stay out of trouble. And now, he could not even keep his hands busy during his walk without bothering his guards.
He did not understand the point of them. If he truly wanted to escape, he could be done with the two men before they could even blink in surprise. It was all so pathetic. The only reason he even played along, was because he did not want to risk the consequences of getting captured after escaping. They were even too frightened of him to try and take the Naginata. They asked the first day, but he merely tightened his grip on the pole, and they dropped the question. If they only knew that in his head, he was not escaping, but merely running around on the rooftops, jumping from surface to surface, swinging along the street posts. There was a course at the training grounds he could run through, but he had memorized all of the obstacles. The actual urban environment would be a new challenge, and accelerate his training. However, he barely was able to walk here at all, even with his escorts. The only reason it happened, was because his Master was extremely influential, and pulled as many strings as he could. There was no way he was ever going to get permission to run through the city unbound. After all, he had tried before and was always denied. He considered doing it anyway, just to his training area and back, but he never did. He would never get away with it. But the desire to become faster and more agile was great.
That was all he had ever thought about since he was six. Improving his training. Although as of late, something was bothering him. Why was he training so hard? At this point, he was one of the best Martial Artists in the country, and soon he could be one of the best in the world. But why? He barely had a year left before he was executed. Why try so hard to be there best there was? No matter what happened, he could never achieve anything with his short lived life. Even if he won in the Death Match, he would still be killed no matter what.
He walked through the gate into his master?s designated training area and glanced around looking for his teacher. He spotted the familiar figure standing on the other side of the grounds looking up into a tree. He jogged over to the man, and bowed low, pointing the bladed end of the Naginata behind him. ?Good morning, Sir.? His voice was void of emotion, however the title he used for his master revealed his true feelings.
?Oh, good morning, Taran.? The elderly man smiled at him. ?It is good to see you again.? He looked back up into the tree focusing on whatever was holding his attention before. That was one thing about Taran?s master. He was considered to be one of the greatest Martial Art instructors, a master of a hundred different styles, a living well of wisdom and information, but he never seemed to quite know what was happening around him.
Taran slowly stood back up, and coughed slightly trying to get the man?s attention. ?What? Oh yes. Impatient as always, I see.? He smiled kindly; his ancient eyes laughing. ?You could learn something from the squirrel, child.? Taran looked at his master confusedly, then into the tree. Running back and forth on a branch, a squirrel searched for food. ?Do you know what it is doing??
?Looking for food, of course, Sir.?
?Do you know when it will eat the food it finds??
If Taran was not confused before, he certainly was now. ?Whenever it wants to, I suppose.?
The elderly man gave a sigh, ?Yes. That would be a correct answer. However it was not the one I am looking for.? He hated it when his student gave a good answer that kept him from making his point. ?He will eat the food during winter, when there is no food to be found.? He explained. ?You see, child, It is planning for the future. I think that you do not do this enough.? He said the last part slowly, and with what sounded a little like sadness. Before Taran could finish, the man continued, ?That was today?s lesson. You may go back to your home.?
Taran wanted to stay and train, however similar instances have happened in the past, and there was no way he could convince his master otherwise. ?Yes, sir. I will see you tomorrow.? Taran bowed again, giving his farewell.
?Hmm? Oh, yes of course. Tomorrow as always.? The man replied happily, as if he were a grandfather looking forward to hid grandson?s return visit. Taran turned and walked back to his guards.
?We are finished for today. I am ready to return.?
Last edited by JEDH3 on Sat Jan 19, 2013 3:09 am, edited 1 time in total.-
JEDH3 - Member for 2 years
//nods very slowly Mm, those were nice samples to read~ The only thing: Make sure you place spacing between different paragraphs/dialogue lines. It will help the writing flow in terms of keeping one's place in the literature. i.e.
Taran slowly stood back up, and coughed slightly trying to get the man?s attention. ?What? Oh yes. Impatient as always, I see.? He smiled kindly; his ancient eyes laughing. ?You could learn something from the squirrel, child.? Taran looked at his master confusedly, then into the tree. Running back and forth on a branch, a squirrel searched for food. ?Do you know what it is doing??
?Looking for food, of course, Sir.?
?Do you know when it will eat the food it finds??
If Taran was not confused before, he certainly was now. ?Whenever it wants to, I suppose.?
The elderly man gave a sigh, ?Yes. That would be a correct answer. However it was not the one I am looking for.? He hated it when his student gave a good answer that kept him from making his point. ?He will eat the food during winter, when there is no food to be found.? He explained. ?You see, child, It is planning for the future. I think that you do not do this enough.? He said the last part slowly, and with what sounded a little like sadness. Before Taran could finish, the man continued, ?That was today?s lesson. You may go back to your home.?
Besides that, you definitely have the Igaga stamp of approval. /stamps JEDH3's forehead with the golden seal and does the same for Star Since I'm sure you two can make those changes, you may go ahead and actually fill out the actual character submission form to add Taran and Jet to the roleplay~
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Igari - Member for 1 years
sorry, I put the space there in ion Microsoft word, but I forgot that RP gateway stacks the lines. :\ I will remember that in the future.
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JEDH3 - Member for 2 years
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