Roleplayers...Do read, perhaps will be interested (formally known as "Examples...") - Darkforum.com - Dark Stories, Dark Art, Poetry, Photography, Debates and Discussions

**Examples... -** 02-28-03

I thought I'd post some example posts I managed to drag up from my old roleplay sessions in TdV. Of course the content may not make sense due to an extensive storyline, but nonetheless, here for your critique, just to see if anyone is interested in starting up a storyline eventually!

The moment stretched as though caught in timelessness. She thought she could hear him speak, but the truth sadly was the only sounds to be heard being the torment the leaves suffered at the invisible hands of the wind outside. The vision before her, him, Andili, suddenly erased all thoughts of revenge from her mind. Besides what is time when one is immortal?
She needed him, oh how she needed him. More than that she required of him to regain his strength. She knew she had lost all. For a creature such as her, surviving more on her passionate emotions than the blood that sustained those that walk the night, to now feel nothing at all save for hate… and then this need she had for him. She slowly lay down next to him, keeping her eyes on his every strained breath. She moved her wrist to her mouth and sunk her teeth deeply, piercing the flesh until the blood spilled into her mouth. She leaned closer to him and turned his head to face her. With her fingers she parted his icy lips, and then opened her own over his yielding mouth and felt the blood flow from her to him. She could not divine his thoughts but she unquestionably felt the torment looming in his soul. She repeated the drawing of her own blood, forcing her kiss on him as surely as she forced the theft of his soul that night which now seemed eons ago. And for a third time her mouth filled with blood met his. Then she laid her head on his chest, the hardness of the floor oblivious to her. This sad scene seemed to steal the hours until she sat up and looked down at him. She would have cried had she such strength of emotion left in her, but there was none. She could rush into the night to have those she now deemed worthy of a fate worse than which her beautiful fledgling met, to have them account for this tragedy, but she knew she had to wait.
And wait she would, until he was ready to join her. The night offered a few hours yet and she would use them to her benefit. She needed to call on those she knew would undoubtedly assist her. She was a worshipper of the Dark Ones, and she believed at the very least they would thrive on the hate that has settled in her heart. It pained her though, to think of her beloved Goddess Kali. She could not bring honour or worship to Her this eve. In the piercing quiet that surrounded them, she got up and walked to the door, shutting it. Turning to face the severely dark room she wondered whether he ever witnessed any magickal rite in his mortal years, sadly he would not even witness that now, as consciousness was stolen from him when she near drained him. Such utter silence, silence that seemed so loud, it heaved against the very walls. An invocation was necessary, one that would lend her the demons of vengeance to assist her in the play that was written so cruelly by those that defiled the rite she performed for Lia. A shadow swept across her features, a darkness that was born in hate. But she also had to ensure Andili's soul would breathe undead life again.

She seemed suspended in a moment of hateful contemplation when suddenly the trance lifted and she walked towards the altar. She stood staring at the carefully placed objects on the table in front of her; her arms folded as if guarding the thoughts she conjured deep within in her being. For the first time since the horror of that night she started dissecting the whole event that eventually claimed her daughter's life. Her brow knitted in a frown, her attention now far removed from Andili lying behind her on the cold floor. The frown intensified and her head tilted slightly to the side. "Yes… it makes no sense actually." She shook her head as if to confirm the absurdity of what appeared to prove reality. "My whole life as follower of dark magick, I have honoured and revered you Kali, why in Hell would you claim MY only daughter? Why, when after all I had to endure to simply bring Michelle over into this world. That spell could have killed me, had my devotion and love for Lestat not been that strong I surely would have died! No, this makes no sense at all!" Did it matter though if she could not fathom the raison d'être, if there was indeed any? She turned and slowly walked to the window as if leaving the sight of these familiar objects could erase the memories, if but only for a moment. She moved the drapes with a weary hand and leaned against the wall, sinking against the stone cold structure of the ancient wall. Her eyes settled once more on him, her gaze transfixed for a few moments before her eyes moved out to capture the darkness of the night. It was near the Dark Moon, shadows before her, heavy as if cloaked in the velvet of the darkened night. Whether he would bare witness to her words or not she spoke to him nonetheless. "What does it matter in the end my tormented soul? Do I, this very moment have the will to claim the vengeance of my childer's spilled blood?" She kept facing the night's sky, her expressionless visage hidden from him. "Perhaps I should end it all though…. Perhaps you will end it when you wake, if you wake…"

02-28-03

Her back to him, her gaze transfixed on the darkest of night, she stood motionless. It seemed the wind outside had become more urgent, echoing her very emotions. Slowly she slid her hand down the velvet drape. She was waiting, for what she wasn’t sure exactly. Confusion was competing with the rage she felt deep inside. And then suddenly she heard an utterance reverberate in the quietness of the darkened room, her back stiffened…
“Why?”
She didn’t dare move at first, she remained at the window, perhaps waiting for words to follow that single sound coming from him, behind her as he lay on the cold floor. She bit down on her lip, and ever so slow, turned around. He had awakened, his once near lifeless body had devoured the blood she gave him, and now he most surely was becoming lucid. His surroundings would soon come into focus; she hesitated, for she was unsure what he would do once he regained his full strength. And that single word, held so much, with that one word a hundred questions were being asked. Uncertainty loomed on the edge of her mind. She wanted for him to trust her, to relinquish that contempt for her, yet she needed his intensity of emotion.
With even languid steps she moved closer to him, until she stood over him. As her head bowed down looking at him, her hair fell around her face like a heavy cloak, obscuring her features. She reached up and swept her hair behind her shoulders. The candlelight distorting her face, perhaps even more than when her hair hid it from his view. She wanted to reach out and hold him to her. She wanted to release all she was feeling; she wanted him to bear witness to her very soul. But instead she remained looming over him. And then in a smooth tone she finally spoke…
“Questions that have no answers, words that have no meaning… do you really wish for me to feed your mind with useless expressions of sentiments that I care not to explain?”
Her words harsh and deliberate, she hated every sound coming from her lips. Why does she allow her resentment to consume what she really felt in that very moment? She knew it was her pride getting the better of her yet again. She couldn’t allow him to see her vulnerability, for if she was to convince him to become her ally she needed to remain within her power. Then finally she crouched down next to him, her hand reaching for his face. It seemed she was to caress his cheek but instead she grabbed hold of his hair, her other hand moving towards his neck. She curled her fingers around his throat and with very little effort she lifted him towards her. She pulled his head back, exposing the paleness of his smooth neck. Her head lowered until she had her lips pressed against his dying skin. Instantly she bit into that deliciously cold flesh, and with an urgent gush his blood filled her mouth. She fed on him once more, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, she held him close to her at last. The blissful flow of his blood coursed through her entire being, the strength of which she drew the blood from him intensified.
And then quite suddenly the image of her slaughtered fledgling obscured this delightful dark dance. She slowed her drinking and eased her hold on him. She realized that this game had to draw its final conclusion eventually, and she had better not waste anymore time. With that she withdrew from him slowly and as she did she bit into her tongue, drawing a little blood, then licked over the wound she caused and watched as her blood sealed the skin. She kept her arms around him, as she brought his face closer to hers, guiding him to the bareness of her neck.
“Drink from me, take it, you have the strength now, my dear dark soul… let us not waste the hours of this night!”

02-28-03

Those two were with my character "Lillith"... this one I actually played a man

my first attempt, it was harder than I thought!

Immortality has the grace of granting one freedom from the shackles of time. Yet even for a creature that defies all things rational including nature itself, finds that waiting for something, anything, becoming an unbearable burden.
He sat in his study, in absolute silence; his thoughts obsessed with that which he has craved with a searing passion for, what seemed an eternity, a craving paralleling his unending need for that crimson silken liquid he draws from when his lips lock to an unsuspecting mortal in the dark of night as he haunts the streets he holds within the pale grasp of his fatally clawed fist. His gaunt marbled face framed by hair as dark as his undead soul, trimmed to just above his shoulders, with a few locks hinting at a slight curl. The only mark mortality left on his appearance being the strands of gray hair close to his temples, those very temples that felt the cold touch of his fingertips as he massaged them absentmindedly. His gaze mesmerized by the flames dancing as if in rapturous ecstasy as the logs grant them freedom, yet his mind compelled to focus on the journey that lay ahead. Within the depths of his blackened orbs, the reflective images of the dancing flames enhanced the eeriness of his menacing features. Outside the trees, on the periphery of the forest, suffered at the hands of an unforgiving wind, howling like the lonesome cry of a wolf, causing branches to bend and twist to its command. Pregnant clouds, heavy and black foretelling the storm brewing as if being stirred in a witch’s cauldron covered the sky. The climate seemed to echo his ominous intentions, or perhaps all of nature revolted against the imminent doom that would befall the two captive women being shipped towards this place which held nothing but death. But they would bring life again to that which he had searched endless lifetimes for, a love that knew the man he was and never will be again. He, the embodiment of death sought life to grant him that passion once more, to hold within his cold embrace that which he loved when the flush upon his cheeks was not the gift of another’s blood, but of mortality. And thus in silence he sat, waiting.

02-28-03

Better title I reckon! Thanks Maruis...

Marius Draven · 02-28-03

For those of you who are clueless - I'm merely a mod trying to clarify this. Other clueless moments will have to be taken up elsewhere - Lillith is trying to start up a Period RP. Meaning basically, and correct me if I'm wrong Lillith, the time period, for example, is in the 1700's. This means people walk around in Victorian clothing, and ride horses. No SUV's... No 9-mm Beretta's. (Sorry fans of the NRA...I'm a democrat). I'm actually interested in this. So you guyz and galz give some response to the dear lady and myself.

Marius Draven · 02-28-03

BTW...take note of how Lillith writes. It's incredible. A few of you guyz could learn something from it.

Including myself of course because I am by no means perfect... (I just go to thesaurus.com from time to time!!)

02-28-03

Wow... thank you Maruis!

Hmm see the thing with Theatre des Vampires, so manty liberties were taken, I mean Free Form basically incorporated just about anything! And as much as the room itself did not have a specific time period, it was thought of to be set in the 1800's. There were endless debates as to how to deal with the problems with people wishing to play modern characters, and of course we could not prevent them from such, so the eventual conclusion was that the room would be like "The world's end", a Sandman novel in the Neil Gaiman series. This place was timeless, therefore creatures and people from all time periods converged at the same time in the same place! It can get confusing but somehow it's always worked. Lillith is very much in that time period of coaches and the garb of that era, with her own twist to it of course

I do have a modern day character, a witch based on the character Nicole Kidman played in... Practical Magic. I know, lame taking an existing persona, but we did a storyline with these characters because we once needed some light relief from our usual scenes.
Now the last post of the man, Giancarlo, was from that storyline! If you want I can post a scene I wrote as Gillian?!

02-28-03

I just read through them again, these posted... Hmm sucky sucky, but it this was 2 years ago! The thing I have found, the more you keep at it, with roleplay that is, the better one's writing becomes. That's why I enjoyed real time online playing in the TdV room. But this has just inspired me to get going again!

Marius Draven · 03-01-03

Speaking of developing one's writing skill, I'll give you two examples of my own. When I first came to DF, back in November of 2001, I had no previous experience with Roleplaying. The following is the first post I ever did, followered by another one during the same innitial period. (For those interested, this is from Reficul, the first post to be exact, as it will explain, which is in the normal RP. This is before Threshold was even thought about...much less created. Don't laugh at me...LOL)

Quote:

You step into The Town of Reficul, walking between the two Weeping Willow trees that serve as the town gate. Houses are dotted along the land of the forest-enclosed town.

Directly in front of you is the town square. There is an angel fountain there. The angel, standing, has his wings spread and has a sword in his right hand while his left hand is extended towards you palm up.

Turning left, you see the town's cathedral. Stone, stained-glass windows, and crouching angels are on the roof of the cathedral. Three-stories above the massive wooden doors with scenes from the Battle of Heaven and Hell carved on them, is a massive stained-glass window.

To the right of the cathedral is the graveyard, surrounded on all sides except one by trees. There you will find angel tombstones, above-ground tombs, and the everyday cross.

Walking back around the angel fountain, from the upper right of the fountain, you can follow the path to the ancient castle that is over 6 stories high, with the towers standing an amazing 8 stories high. The castle hasn't been inhabited for over 1000 years.

A river and the Mystic's Lake is hidden in the forest, producing a shroud of hazy blue myst. Even during the daylight hours, the light is very dim because everything is concealed in myst.

********

Quote:

*Walks around the angel fountain and stares at it for a moment*

"How splendid. An angel..."

*Walks to infront of the cathedral. Walks up the stairs and stands in front of the great wooden doors depicting the Battle of Heaven and Hell. The door has scenes of angel's being impaled etc etc. Opens the large door and sees roughly 20 rows, devided by a walkway down the middle...*

"Lovely..."

(All the rows are filled with people. At the front of the church, there are two priest standing in front of a crucifix, eyes closed, saying a prayer in latin.)

*I walk into the cathedral, up the aisle...silently. My black cape is flowing behind me. As I walk between the pews, filled with people on the knees praying, I tap the ends of each pew. They engulf in flames. Near the front of the church, one of the priest looks up and sees what is going on. He is horrified. He runs at me with his silver cross in hand saying 'In the name of God'. Before he can finish his sentence, I rip the cross from his hand, breaking his wrist. He clutches it in pain and terror. Then, without missing a beat, with cross in hand, I shove the cross into his neck, whispering in his ear right before his last breath...*

"In the name of God? What God. You're fucked."

*Twisting the cross that already in his neck, blood gushes out, and he crumples to the floor, his white robe now crimson. I walk up to the other priest and wait for him to finish his prayer. He says 'Amen' then looks up to find me staring at him with the flames now hissing as they burn wood and flesh and the priest killed by the cross behind me. He tries to run but I grab his shoulder and throw him to the ground. I now stand directly infront of a massive wooden crucifix.*

"I rather enjoy crucifixes."

*I do the Catholic cross thing across my chest and bring my right hand up to my mouth, kissing my thumb then I touch the bottom of the crucifix, making it engulf in flames. I turn around, the priest now stumbling backwards. I walk to him and thrust my right hand out, touching his forhead with two fingers. Immeadiatly the back of his head explodes as fire rushes through it. He crumples to the gound. I walk out of the desecrated, burning cathedral.*

It's kind of depressing to look back and then realize I wrote that. Nonetheless, everyone has a beginning somewhere. Now, the next two examples are from Threshold. My skill as a writer and RPer had developed quite a bit (as it continues to even now). The first quote is from Michaelangelo's, a restaurant. The second quote is after Marius had been in battle (this Marius is different from the Freficul one because it is two seperate worlds) and is returning home. These are probably the top two favorite posts of mine. Notice that even in the first post, when compared to the second, is not as good. That's because, as I said, one developes one's talents through time and experience. (I'm sure I sound egotistical, but after a day of moving heavy furniture down steps and stealing a 300+ lb. concrete Jesus statue, then running with it for half a mile, I'm pretty damn tired, thus uncaring of people's opinion. LOL)

Quote:

*Marius walks up the four rounded steps to the glass doors of the two-story building. He stands for a moment, the chill night breeze causing his jacket to flutter softly at his heels. He looks up for a moment, admiring the architecture of the building...the giant stained glass window glowing with the light from inside the building. He looks down to the door as the doorman greets him. Marius merely nods, steps into the building, and hands his overcoat to yet another man waiting for it. He steps lightly on the imported marble floor, taking notice to the various Italian frescos that surrounded him on the walls and ceiling, as well as the marble statues of everything from demons to innocent cherubs. Many of these creations were originals...worth millions. Marius had actually sold some of the art to the owner for this very place. He continues on through the restaurant to his normal place...a booth in the very back of the restaurant. On his way back, various important figures - clients, allies and enemies alike acknowledge his presence with a nod. Marius returns the gesture and finally sits down on the black leather cushioned seat. Above him, a recreation of Michelangelo's The Prophet Joel, with his flowing robes of crimson and lavender, stares down upon Marius' neck, always watchful. Every detail is dramatic in a simple yet effective way. The raw power and violence, yet serenity in the eyes seem to unnerve most. However, Marius is accustomed to the stare. He has seen far more horrific things in his existence.*

*A waiter in his mid-thirties, dressed in a tux of sorts approaches Marius. He stands silent for a moment then offers a welcome to Marius. Marius looks up at him and smiles, showing his gratitude for the warm welcomes he once again received.*

"Jon is it? Well, Jon, I would like to start off by ordering a bottle of your best wine. Cotes du Rhone...1925."

"Yes sir. A very good year for the red wine. I think you will enjoy it sir. I'll be right back with it."

*Marius smiles and nods as the waiter disperses himself to get the bottle of wine. However, this was no mere bottle of wine. Rhone, France has been making excellent wine since Roman times. Due to such perfection in the wine, it costs around $11,000 a bottle. Marius hopes his would be companion, if he answers Marius' call, likes wine. If not, he shall just drink it all himself.*

*A few moments pass and the waiter returns with the bottle, resting in a silver pail filled with ice. He opens the bottle and begins to pour Marius a glass. It's deep and rich crimson liquid flows from the bottle into the glass. He returns the bottle to its pail and once again walks away. Marius takes his hand and embraces the crystal with his fingers. He brings the glass up to his nose, breaths a slow and deep breath, inhaling the delicate yet strong fragrance of the wine. He then brings the glass to his lips and tips it just a degree further. The liquid flows between his lips and over his tongue, making his taste buds explode with the spicy sensation. He swallows the wine and smiles, lowering the glass back to the table. Truly impressed by it, he continues to calmly drink from it, savoring every vivid sentiment as he waits for his guest.*

********

Quote:

*The studio was in the heart of the city, a very prestigious and upscale part of town. Everything here had class and style. That's why Marius had chosen it to be his residence. The tower itself was massive, one of the tallest in the city. The top two floors Marius called his own...the penthouse suite. However, there was no way Marius could merely walk in the front doors of the building, not the way he looked. After all, he looked like he had just been through hell, and he had.*

*He stood in the shadows for a moment, away from the prying eyes that he was sure surrounded him, thinking of how he could get into his studio without being noticed. Granted, any other time, he would merely appear on the balcony and walk in...but he was too weak now. Looking up at the balcony, he noticed the fire escape. Something he had just looked over before, as it was not essential to his life. However, now it would prove beneficial. He walked beneath the metal platform, several feet above. He jumped up onto the platform and made his way up the seemingly endless stairs.*

*Upon reaching his balcony, several moments later, he looked through the two glass doors. The fireplace was still burning, casting a soothing glow upon the features of the room and its dark red brick walls. The soft piano music was like a breath of fresh air as he opened the doors. He stepped through the doors and closed them once inside. He made his way to the bathroom.*

*Opening the wooden door, the glow of the fire entered into the dark room. He felt around the smooth wall of the bathroom, aimlessly, until he found the light switch. The light was harsh at first, causing his pupils to dilate, increasing the intensity of his headache. He stood still for a moment until his eyes had adjusted to the light. He stepped past the various objects in the bathroom until he stood in front of the shower. He slowly placed the front of his right foot on the heel of his left shoe, applying pressure and sliding his foot from it. He proceeded to do the same with the opposite shoe. He took his black silk socks off, the cold marble floor at first intense to the senses of his bare feet. He let his suit jacket, riddled with bullet holes and tears in the fine cloth, slide from his shoulders to the floor. He un-tucked his satin shirt, slowly, while jets of pain shot through his abdomen due to the various wounds inflicted upon him by the shotgun. He then reached up and pulled the back of his tie, loosening it and finally untying it. Pulling one end of the tie, the pieces of the dried blood flaking off, he watched as they both cascaded to the floor. He unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, painfully. Like his blazer, he let the shirt slide from his shoulders to the floor as well. He then opened the shower door and turned the flowing jets of water on. The water splashing onto the floor of the shower deafened the piano music in the background. Quickly, the steam began to rise and fill the room. Marius then continued to undress, taking his belt off and finally his pants and boxers.*

*He stepped into the shower, closing the door behind him, the hot water strongly contrasting the cold floor his feet had grown accustomed to. The soothing flow hit his chest and face like an avalanche. Marius deeply sighed, the water flowing from his face into his open mouth. The dried blood on his face and chest quickly became animate again as the water hit it. It cascaded down his body, a torrent of crimson flow, to the shower floor. He slowly moved his hand to his chest, his palm resting upon his navel and the small group of dark hairs that rested below it. He moved his hand up his chest, his fingers finding the wounds in his chest and stomach. The lead pellets fell from his body as his fingers dislodged them. The bullets made a muffled sound as they hit the pooling water. A small amount of blood flowed from the open wounds, the hot water flowing into them causing sharp pains to come to life throughout his body. He continued to move his hands over his various wounds, washing the blood away. The wounds would heal, leaving no evidence of their existence in a small amount of time, perhaps a day or less. Even now, the dulled electric sensations Marius felt was confirmation his body was healing.*

*Finally he reached down and turned off the flow of hot water. He opens the shower door and reaches for a towel. The cotton softly caresses his body, but still its gentle touch irritated Marius' wounds. Nevertheless, he proceeded to dry the beads of water from his body. He stepped from the shower, the damp towel in his powerful hands and looked into the mirror. He took notice of the bruised spots on his face and chest, his defined, smooth pecs and his slightly darkened nipples, his glossy short obsidian hair and his crystalline eyes. He touched his fingers to the bruises on his abs. He was reminded of the first time he viewed his reflection so long ago. He looked the same as he did then. Timeless and ageless...perfect. His reverie was cut abruptly as his head throbbed once again. He closed his eyes, as if to escape the pain. He then wrapped the towel around his waist. He turned and walked out of the bathroom, turning the light off.*

*He then walked to the glass doors of his balcony. Looking out over the city, the lights contrasting the darkness that had fallen across it, he remembered the vision Hiro had given him. The fires, the chaos, the pain and death of all of the creatures of the darkness as they were called...his brothers. He placed his hand upon the glass door, the chill of the night air becoming evident to the cold sensation he felt through his palm. He called out to Hiro, knowing the creature, his ally, his friend, was still somewhere in the vast city.*

Hiro, I know not where you are or what task you are doing. However, know this my friend. If you need me in any way, contact me. You have called us because we all must come together as one in order to continue our existence. If you need me brother, just call out, and I'll be there...

*Marius took his hand from the glass window, letting it fall to his side. The heat of his palm caused the moisture in the air to leave the expression of his hand against the cold window. Marius turned and walked across the darkened hard wood floor to the black leather sofa facing the fireplace. He sat down initially, but being exhausted, he soon stretched out. His feet rested upon one arm cushion, ankles crossed. He bent his arms and placed his hands behind his head, which rested in his palms. His view slowly changed from the ceiling to the fireplace as his head came to rest. His arctic eyes reflected the warm fire as the thoughts of all the days happenings poured into mind. Eventually his eyes closed, but his mind continued to stir throughout his sleep.*

There ya go. That's it. I don't know why I went on that tyrade...but there it is. I was thinking Lillith, if there is an interest in this period RPing, I would call upon the elders (my bosses) and ask them to give me the power to create an entire city. Say for example we base the RP in a city, much like Venice or Florence or London, perhaps Prague, or hell, New Orleans or New York. I would then research the particular city during the time frame of our RP, and create a world. There would be an area to post in the docks, in the banking section of town, the ghetto, the artsy part of town, etc etc. It would be much like the RP forum, also hosted by ezboard.com, that is at this address:
http://pub17.ezboard.com/bschoolforgiftedyoungsters
Anyway...tis just a few thoughts of mine. I'm going to sleep now. Have to wake up in five hours and go to a college thing of some sort... Later.

-Marius

Marius Draven · 03-01-03

Jesus that's a lot of egotistical bullshit...LOL

Qoji · 03-01-03

So...can there be ninjas?

Marius Draven · 03-01-03

My initial thought, Qoji, would be no...considering it's set in a city during the 18th/19th century. However, that being the case, I would assume there could be ninjas, since that certain Asian branch of warriors stems far back into the pages of history. So yah, I would assume there would be ninja's...but it would be a bit more difficult for you to explain why a ninja is in Europe or the US. Get what I'm trying to say? Do you agree or disagree Lillith? Be honest now...LOL

03-01-03

Quote:

Originally posted by Marius Draven

There ya go. That's it. I don't know why I went on that tyrade...but there it is. I was thinking Lillith, if there is an interest in this period RPing, I would call upon the elders (my bosses) and ask them to give me the power to create an entire city. Say for example we base the RP in a city, much like Venice or Florence or London, perhaps Prague, or hell, New Orleans or New York. I would then research the particular city during the time frame of our RP, and create a world. There would be an area to post in the docks, in the banking section of town, the ghetto, the artsy part of town, etc etc. It would be much like the RP forum, also hosted by ezboard.com, that is at this address:
http://pub17.ezboard.com/bschoolforgiftedyoungsters
Anyway...tis just a few thoughts of mine. I'm going to sleep now. Have to wake up in five hours and go to a college thing of some sort... Later.

-Marius

*shivers and squirms* Oh my! Thank you so much for sharing that with me, and lord the last example *gasps* yes, the progress and creativity that seems to continue to grow the more you write, is simply phenominal! I would very much like to start a story with you, I would love to see what can come from this! And yes... yes, I love your suggestion! I can't hide the fact that I'm excited by this!

03-01-03

Quote:

Originally posted by Marius Draven
My initial thought, Qoji, would be no...considering it's set in a city during the 18th/19th century. However, that being the case, I would assume there could be ninjas, since that certain Asian branch of warriors stems far back into the pages of history. So yah, I would assume there would be ninja's...but it would be a bit more difficult for you to explain why a ninja is in Europe or the US. Get what I'm trying to say? Do you agree or disagree Lillith? Be honest now...LOL

Quite frankly, I think he's taking the piss

but if he is indeed serious, I don't exactly know what he means by ninja anyway. And by that I mean, is he referring to the ninja turtles, or assassins, highly trained in martial arts? I mean, naturally martial arts have been in existence for many centuries, so the feasibility of one being in that time frame isn't wholly illogical.

Marius Draven · 03-02-03

My point exactly...and thank you. Though it isn't nearly as good as your RP, I'm proud of it. And I agree - I'd love to start a story with ya.

03-02-03

Quote:

Originally posted by Marius Draven
My point exactly...and thank you. Though it isn't nearly as good as your RP, I'm proud of it. And I agree - I'd love to start a story with ya.

Not as good?! Pish posh! You should be proud of it.