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message 2:
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ᑕᗢᗝᒪḰᓮᖙᖇᗢჯ123 ☆*･゜ﾟ･*\(^O^)/*･゜ﾟ･*☆, The Looming Greyness Above You
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age: 15 turning 16 ^_^
Genre: everything...-.-' but mostly fantasy and elemental
experiance in this genre: a lot.? ok. dont follw my example. do not write a lot :P
Amount of storys/rps you've done about the genre: the majority of them are fantasy and elemental.... elementum, ilca, ilcor...ect.
give me an example of your writing skills: fantasy:
PROLOGUE
Cara the Peace dragon lay down in her cave. She had been feeling sick and not even Phoebe the healer dragon could cure her. She saw a dark shadow approaching. She felt too dizzy to get up. She could only watch the shadow getting closer. She knew that the shadow was an hour's fly from her cave.That was a good thing about being a dragon; you have a very sharp sense of sight. Cara looked at the sinking sun, turning the sky a light shade of orange.
When the shadow finally landed in Cara's cave the sun had already set. It was Silver the Fate and Destiny dragon. She landed as silent and as smoothly as a cool summer's breeze.
"Cara, I came as soon as I heard the news!" Silver Exclaimed. Cara smiled faintly, if a dragon could smile.
"No need to worry!" She said, barely a whisper. Silver had a worried look on her face and she was very fidgety.
"I had a vision last moon fall!" She told Cara in almost a hiss. Cara frowned.
"Isn't Mia the one with the visions?"
"I don't know!" Silver complained.
"What was in this... vision?" Asked Cara. Flames where now coming out of Silver's nostrils.
"I saw twenty kids___" She began but was cut off by Cara's feeble snort.
"Twenty kids? Is that what you're so worried about?" She demanded.
"These aren't normal kids!" Cara frowned at this. "These kids have the aura of dragons!"
elemental:
The chirps of the crickets echoed throughout the forest, making the only sound. The full moon shone its bright light down into the forest. The stars twinkled and winked down at the earth. A gust of wind shook the branches and made howling sounds, warning of something unknown. The howls of a pack of wolves joined in with the wind, sensing a storm. A few moments later lightning struck, thunder roared and grey clouds briefly clouded the moon, sending the forest into brief darkness. As the forest settled down for the night and the rain begun, nothing seemed amiss. Then all of a sudden, a blinding light could be seen for miles around. If you looked down onto the great kingdom of Ilca from the sky, you would be able to see three beams of light coming from three different locations. With the lights came a bang that startled sleeping birds and aroused spooked humans. As suddenly as the light appeared, it disappeared in a flash. Replacing the lights were three kids. Two boys, one girl. One of these boys appeared in the Rethahag (rag) forest. The boy lay on the ground, unmoving for a heartbeat... then he groaned, rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand.
“Where am I?” He croaked, opening his eyes and scanning the forest.
The forest was unfamiliar to him. He instinctively clutched the dog tag around his neck.
‘That’s odd...I don’t recall owning a dog tag...’ He wondered to himself.
The boy stood up and took the dog tag off, examining it in the moonlight. The tag read:
‘N: Eric
A: 15
P: Trees’
Bellow a dotted line made out of holes was a symbol. A pentagram.
The boy...Eric...frowned. Was that his name? He couldn’t remember. Frustrated at the emptiness of his mind. He couldn’t remember anything. Not his name, not his age, not where he was from or who sent him here. For the first time he could feel the slight drizzle that had now turned into a pouring onslaught. His green t-shirt, black zip-up jumper and black shorts were already soaked. Eric zipped his jumper up all the way to his chin and pulled the jumper’s hood over his head. He didn’t know where he was going, he didn’t care... he just wanted to find a place where it didn’t rain!
-----------------------------------------------------------~*~----------------------------------------------------------
By the time dawn came Eric was shivering, hungry and completely lost. He had no idea where anything was and the more he walked the denser the forest got. The only good thing was that the rain has stopped. Eric was on the point of giving up. A moment later, he tripped over a rock and landed face first into the mud. He was about to raised his head when he heard vicious growling. More than one. Eric peeked and saw three grey wolves, growling at a boy. The boy looked strong, fit and attractive. His blond hair was dripping with water and dropping at the ends. His light grey shirt was ripped in several places, along with his black geans. His feet were bear, exposed to the muddy earth. His shocking grey-blue eyes were wide with fear.
jks that has no elemental stuff in it... well... it's the first chapter in an elemental book!! XD
other: wehjbgusawilrghbselgjbaOGAWGL
:):
amount of perminant character(s): HMM.. 4 major ones and a bunch of others i use depending on he group.
main:
Luke- dark adn foreboding and nonchalance adn disdaneful
Winter- doom adn gloom - short tempered
Julia - hyperactive. sweet,. childish
Alex- (boreing) leader, does anything for his friends, usally a warrior.
i swear there was another one...
Gwidon? evil ruler? teacher? nah... he minor..
that's onlye for roleplays of course XD
message 3:
by
Cait Sith, Don't let me off my chain, if you wish to live
(last edited Jan 30, 2013 08:19PM)
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age: 19
Genre: Fantasy, Horror
experiance in this genre: Quite a bit in Fantasy
Amount of storys/rps you've done about the genre: O.O lets see,
about 70 fantasy groups
about 6 or 7 horror groups,
2 horror stories
give me an example of your writing skills:
Jake and Laura Desmos were two of the nicest people I have ever met. They never yelled at people. They always held a backyard cook-out and were very generous. It was a shame that they passed away. They were so young, 36 and 37. The story of their passing is like that out of a ghost story.
It was a nice warm summer's afternoon. Jake was out in the backyard prepping for the cook-out. He had just finished turning the grill on and was waiting for Laura to bring out the hot dogs and hamburgers. Laura was in the kitchen getting the food ready to take outside. She was about to carry out the hotdogs and hamburgers when she heard a knock at the front door. Thinking it was an early guest, she went to the front door and answered it. No one was there. She looked around, then closed the door and went back into the kitchen. She took the meat out to Jake and told him what happened.
"Probably a neighbor's kid having fun." Jake told Laura.
"Yeah you're probably right." She said with a nod.
The first guests arrived and the cook-out was underway. There came some sounds from the house. Jake saw that Laura was playing with some of the neighbors's kids, so he went inside the house to check out what was making the noises. He looked everywhere but didn't find anything. He walked back outside and enjoyed the cook-out.
After the cook-out had ended and the last of the guests had left, it was time to clean up. Laura and Jake filled three grabage bags full of the trash. They put the bags in the garbage bin out front then returned to the backyard to find the trash had somehow been thrown around the backyard. They cleaned up again, looking and feeling a little scared. Then they went to bed for they were tired from the cook-out and cleaning up twice.
The next morning the mail man came and put the mail in their mailbox. Then the newspaper delivery boy rode by on a bike and tossed their newspaper on the front porch, just in front of the door. But something was wrong. Jake and Laura were usually both outside to get their mail and paper and greet the mail man and paper boy.
A few hours later, their phone rang. I could hear the phone ring because I lived right next door. The phone kept ringing until it went to their answering machine.
"That was strange." I said to myself. "They're usually answering the phone after it rings once."
I was curious about what was going on, so I snuck over to their house to find the front door slightly ajar. I walked inside and looked around. They were no where to be found. I then walked over to their bedroom door and pushed it open. I stood there in shock and fear at what I saw. Jake and Laura were laying there, dead.
______________________________________________________
Hello, I am George Dylans. My story is one you will not soon forget. I was outside closing our front gate. I heard footsteps coming from down the road. I stopped what I was doing, looked up, but didn’t see anything or anyone there. I went back to closing the gate when I heard the sounds again. I looked at where they were coming from but still, nothing there. After I finished closing and locking the gate, I turned around and there was a hooded figure on my front porch.
The figure was wearing a black cloak, with the hood over its head, so I couldn’t see its face. It stood there and stared at me. I walked over to it but it didn’t turn to look at me. It just looked out across the street. I followed its gaze and was met by an unimaginable terror. Lying against a wall, on the other side of the street was the body of a man whom I had come to call a friend. He had been my neighbor ever since I moved here. I was filled with an uncontrollable sadness.
I ran into the house and phoned the police. I told them all I had seen, and they came out immediately. I stayed in the house as I waited for them to arrive. When I heard the sirens outside, I quickly ran to the door and opened it. I looked at where the body was lying, against the wall, but something was wrong. The body was gone.
I was quickly taken into the custody of the law. I was told that I was being arrested for abusing the emergency number. As I was being taken away, the man, whose body I had seen, quickly rushed outside. He ran over to the police and asked them what I had done. The police explained it to him and the man instead of agreeing with the police told them the strangest thing.
“He is telling the truth. For I have died. But not recently, no I was long dead before this day. My body has rotted away so much, even the bones are gone. I am not alive, for I am just the ghost of a man who died here a long time ago.” The man told them.
“Really!?!” A police officer asked sarcastically.
“Yes really, I died in 1523. I was a stowaway on Columbus’ ship and when it landed here, they threw me out and then when they left, they left me here.” The man told them.
The cops just stared at the man as if he were crazy. They arrested me for abuse of the emergency telephone line and then drove away, with me in the back, laughing at the man.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….....
The ghost of the man passed through the front door of his house. He went up to the attic, where an antique wooden desk and chair sat, with a piece of tattered paper and a quill. He sat down and started to write.
These mortals are hurtful.
Then another line formed just below the first,
Stay there, in due time we shall be rid of them once and for all.
The End
… or is it?
______________________________________________________
Prologue
My name is Rae Lokisson; I was killed protecting what I love. I would like to share my story with you, so that you may know who I was and what I did. I didn’t have very many friends, only a few close friends came to mourn me. I had many enemies. Most of my enemies, I had acquired not for anything I did or what I had said to them in life, but for the one simple fact, my father was Loki. He had made many enemies and my enemies had come to the thought that I would as well. They didn’t want me as a friend; for fear that I might stab them in the back when I had the chance.
As I have already told you, I didn’t have many friends. Those friends I did have were closer to me than anyone else could be. Our bond was formed stronger than Gleipneir, and was growing ever stronger with each passing day. My last few weeks were among the best I had ever had. My friends and I were visiting our friend George in Tucson. He lived with his father and was different from the rest of us. George’s appearance was that out of an anime book about a Wolf boy. He still mourns my passing with each passing day. I wish I could let him know the truth about where I have gone but I fear Odin might not allow it. So We’ll just keep that little secret between us shall we?
Chapter 1- Meeting Loki
It was a normal spring morning in Phoenix, Az. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and as always, I was the last one awake. I got out of bed and went into the kitchen. My mother was making me and my half siblings, breakfast, eggs, bacon, sausages, hash browns, and some golden brown toast. I was 12 at the time. Had I known that would be my last meal with my family, I would have talked to them a lot more. But I had no idea that I was never to see them again.
After breakfast there was a knock at the front door. No one else would answer it so I went into the living room and answered the door. That was when things got strange. As I opened the door there was a man with long black hair and a small goatee. He greeted me and told me he was Loki, and I was his son. He then took me away from my home and asked me if I wanted to go and get something to eat. I told him I just ate breakfast but then he shook his head. Next thing I know I was hungry again so I told him I was starved.
He took me to a restaurant, the name of which I have forgotten, but it wasn’t half bad. He ordered me the same thing my mother always made for breakfast. As we waited for my food to arrive, we talked a bit and he told me I was a demigod. He told me I was to go and find seven others just like me. They all lived together in Tucson. I didn’t know what else to do, so I nodded and told him ok. Once my food arrived, I ate it slowly as I thought about what he had told me. When I had finished eating, he took me to a bus station and gave me a ticket to a bus that would take me to Tucson. I looked at the ticket and then looked back at him, but he was gone. I had nowhere else to go, so I boarded the bus for Tucson.
Chapter 2- The Busride
The bus ride was not too bad. As I boarded the bus I noticed that most of the seats were empty. I gave my ticket to the bus driver and he told me to pick a seat. I made my way to the back of the bus, for I was never really comfortable sitting in the front or the middle. As I took my seat, I looked around at all the other passengers. None of them looked out of the ordinary and I thought to myself, "Ok so far so good."
The bus driver started the bus and we were off. It was a long ride and I remember that I hadn't had any snacks. The bus hit a bump and one of the bags fell. I caught it then looked at the name. I was astonished to realize it had my name on it. I opened it up and inside was some waters, a couple bags of chips, a few bags of skittles and two sandwiches. Then I noticed a note,
My Son,
I know you're confused right now. Don't worry. They will explain everything when you get to Tucson. I can safely assume that since you're reading this note, you got my little present to you for this trip. I know what you like and I made sure to pack a few things for entertainment. Check the side pocket of the bag.
-Loki
After reading the note, I looked in the side pocket of the bag. As I unzipped it I saw a psp and a few games. Strangely enough, it was my psp. I could tell because it had the same scratches as mine did from when I had dropped it a few times. I didn't know how he did it but all the games, they were also mine. I didn't care about what he had done to get them. I thanked the gods for this and I started playing. I don't really remember how long I played for, because when we pulled up in Tucson I was still playing. I was able to do this because he had also packed a few extra batteries.
Chapter 3- Arrival in Tucson
As the bus arrived in the station in Tucson, I remember looking out the window and seeing many people there. Some were waiting to board and some were waiting for friends, family, or other visitors to exit the bus. I picked up my bag, the one my father had given me, and exited through the bus door I saw what looked like a group of 7 people, the oldest was holding a sign with my name. I remembered what my father told me, I was to meet 7 people here in Tucson.
As I walked over to them, I got the strange feeling that they would soon become more than just acquaintances. My head started to ache as I tried to process what was happening right now. The older man, the one who held the sign, greeted me and told me that his name was Brandon, and that everything would become clear to me once we arrived at the house.
other:
:):
amount of perminant character(s): 3
Johnny Fox: His personality differs by the genre
Jon Wolfe: He is misunderstood, and is not really a bad guy. Bad stuff just happens to him.
Collin (last name always changes): His personality differs by the group
message 4:
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ᑕᗢᗝᒪḰᓮᖙᖇᗢჯ123 ☆*･゜ﾟ･*\(^O^)/*･゜ﾟ･*☆, The Looming Greyness Above You
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message 7:
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Star, Petals of s Fleeting Love, Roots to a dried up life
(last edited Jan 29, 2013 09:54PM)
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age: Just turned 17 :)
Genre: Fantasy; Romance; Slice of life; Adventure; a bit of horror
experience in this genre: Hmm, I have the most experience in Adventure Fantasy I guess
Amount of storys/rps you've done about the genre: Well, I've been RPing since 2009, also I've written a few stories (although they're all incomplete)
give me an example of your writing skills:**UNDER CONSTRUCTION**
amount of permanent character(s): Well, none of this site, but I might transfer a few over... But so far 1 - 3
message 8:
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ᑕᗢᗝᒪḰᓮᖙᖇᗢჯ123 ☆*･゜ﾟ･*\(^O^)/*･゜ﾟ･*☆, The Looming Greyness Above You
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message 9:
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ᑕᗢᗝᒪḰᓮᖙᖇᗢჯ123 ☆*･゜ﾟ･*\(^O^)/*･゜ﾟ･*☆, The Looming Greyness Above You
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message 10:
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ᑕᗢᗝᒪḰᓮᖙᖇᗢჯ123 ☆*･゜ﾟ･*\(^O^)/*･゜ﾟ･*☆, The Looming Greyness Above You
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Oh, I just rephrased the list of RPs and stories. It wasn't an actual question...
message 12:
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ᑕᗢᗝᒪḰᓮᖙᖇᗢჯ123 ☆*･゜ﾟ･*\(^O^)/*･゜ﾟ･*☆, The Looming Greyness Above You
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btw star cant make you mod until you verify your email
message 13:
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ᑕᗢᗝᒪḰᓮᖙᖇᗢჯ123 ☆*･゜ﾟ･*\(^O^)/*･゜ﾟ･*☆, The Looming Greyness Above You
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message 17:
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Apps *ąþþℓεş щïŧɧ şþℓεεŋ ïş şҩųïşɧγ*, Noodle Head. _._,
(last edited Jan 30, 2013 02:53AM)
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Age: 14
Genre: Psychological Horror/ Paranormal/Dystopian
Experience in this genre: er...lots? All my charrie are screwed up.
Amount of stories/rps you've done about the genre: Most of them...whenever I find a decent rp partner.
give me an example of your writing skills: My palm throbs, feeling the phantom of the recoil, long after I fired the gun. I stand still, looking at the scene before me, which hasn't changed much in the last few seconds since the bullet left the gun to embed itself in the soft, giving flesh of the child's throat. Well, other than the growing pool of the blood around the twitching body that is. I move forward, closing the last few feet that separate us. I kneel and lean over her body. The child is not dead yet, still holding onto the last shreds of life, even as they slip through her fast weakening fingers. Those blue, blue eyes stare into mine, they seem to try to say all that cannot be put into words. Huh. Either they fail to convey it or I fail to understand it. I fish out a small, sleek blade and slip it between the spinal chord, severing it and thus ending it's short miserable life. It. My mouth curls into a bitter smirk. That's what we were taught to think of them as, not as a human being but as an object that had no value. I sometimes wonder, how can they still be so prejudiced. Calling them 'it' doesn't make them an 'it'. But we do it anyway. Isn't that always the case? Don't we all prefer a sweet lie to a bitter truth? I don't care either way, but still, I can't help but wonder, why do you hide behind the flimsy curtain of lie, pretending not to see the truth that stares you in the face. Why do you shy away, refuse to accept a fact that doesn't sit well with you? Just because you turn your back on something doesn't mean that it stops existing. And yet, it seems that delusion is the only way that you remain sane. Maybe it's one of the many mysteries that I can't hope to understand.
I lean back and sit on my haunches, staring at the still body, not to steel myself for what's to come but just because it's a habit I picked up from others. I extend my gloved hands and begin the thankless job of pulling out those blue eyes from their sockets.
* * *
A seemingly calm and composed face stares at me. It's not so much as calm as it's expressionless. That face looks like it belongs to a person who had done nothing more than stare at the wall or something just as interesting. But of course a mirror is supposed to reflect exactly what's in front of it isn't it? Then shouldn't those brown eyes hold the lingering horror of the day's work? Huh, I guess the person reflected in it must feel those emotions for it to show. I don't feel any horror at what I've done, just a little frustrated maybe. But even that fails to show on my face.
They used to tell me how the eyes used to haunt them, still does sometimes. Of how the squelching sound would keep repeating in their minds. How the feel of the eyes in their hands would keep them awake at night, fearing sleep, that when it came it would bring those not-yet-buried memories in the form of nightmare with it.
It irks me that I never experience those things. That I feel nothing for those whose lives I've taken. I sit awake at night, not because I'm afraid but because sleep refuses to touch me. Does that make me an 'it' too? Because I don't feel anything? But didn't they say that we're not supposed to feel anything? And yet, they treat me strangely because I don't. Humans are so full of contradictions. You never really mean anything you say. You talk about being truthful while you lying continually to yourself. Do you do it consciously? Or do you really not know what you want? Sometimes I wonder why everyone couldn't be like me. Not really having emotions makes everything so much more easier. Or is that my delusion?
I reach out and pick up the small bottle of capsules in the cabinet. It's a strong sedative, much stronger than the legal limit, but it does the work of knocking me out just fine. I don't have a particular liking for them. They are just another symbol standing to show that I'm not what the world expects me to be. That and they leave me feeling more restless than usual when they wear off. But I pop one tonight and swallow it dry. I've already gone almost a week without sleep and any more will only make things worse than they already are. I don't care, to be true. But then, no one want's the truth either. A grey haze falls over my mind and within minutes drowsiness drags me under.
Other: ?
Number of permanent character(s): 0. I make new ones all the time.
I still haven't come up with a name for the ^^girl in abovementioned story. I'm not even sure if it's a girl or guy. _._,
message 18:
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ᑕᗢᗝᒪḰᓮᖙᖇᗢჯ123 ☆*･゜ﾟ･*\(^O^)/*･゜ﾟ･*☆, The Looming Greyness Above You
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Age: 15
Genre: Gore, paranormal, drama, poetry
Experience in this genre: All my life.
Amount if stories/rp's I've done in this genre: Maybe... Four?
Example of my writing skills: Connor smiled. His forked tongue ran itself along the glistening rows of canines guarding his mouth, slithering across his pale gums. Each pearly tooth was thick and curved, sculpted from his bone to a perfect point. They curled and twisted their way past his lips as he pulled back to smile, almost reaching out to the bound man with a mind of their own. He crawled forward, squatted down on all fours like a stalking animal. The man made a pathetic noise against the saliva soiled cloth tied firmly around his head. He hadn't been easy to catch, and Connor was relishing his last few moments with him while he was alive; like one savors the final minutes before shredding the wrapping off of a gift to get at what was underneath. This was his gift, this was his present. The man wimpered again and wriggled in his trap like a fish trying ever so desperately to reach the sea after being washed ashore. "Don't try," Connor hissed, his voice strangely wet and loose. He took a few ambling steps closer and leaned into the man's face, strings of greedy anticipation beginning to creep out of the crevices of his teeth and slide down his chin. It dripped onto the man's black overcoat and smoked, burning through almost instantly. The man's eyes opened even wider in fear, if that was possible. That just made Connor's sadistic grin widen. He looked down at the older man, a growling hunger gnawing on the inside of his entire body; driving him, leading him, making him. Slowly, the boy's jaw snapped and ground, sliding out of it's place with a sickening alteration of bones. Now Connor's bottom jaw hung a whole two feet lower, his skin pulled back to allow such a maneuver. His long tongue slithered out and waggled in the air like a distressed snake, excited. The poor man was trying to scream, warm tears welling and eventually spilling out of his eyes and onto the wooden floor as he tried so dearly to escape. He knew the waiting was over. A deep sound like a gurgling snarl came from Connor's throat right before he pounced, his hands flashing out and latching onto his victim's sides and pinning him securely to the ground. Taking a deep breath, Connor dove his predatory head down and snapped shut on the man's chest, cracking the bones and peircing the flesh grossly. Hot, sticky blood fountained out of the screaming victim's writhing body.
Amount of permanent characters: 11
Other: Is this good enough? Or should I expand on the writing examples?
Title: Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
Age: Fourteen
Genre: Romance, Angst, Dystopia (I guess...)
Experience in this Genre: Four years, about, with me actually trying.
Examples of My Writing Skills: They're too long to post, but here are links - Drops of Jupiter, HP/DW xover; the year that no one volunteered, THG; O Swear Not by the Moon, th' Inconstant Moon, DW; this is a song of two lonely people, Avengers/DW xover.
Amount of Permanent Characters: Pardon?
Age: Fourteen
Genre: Romance, Angst, Dystopia (I guess...)
Experience in this Genre: Four years, about, with me actually trying.
Examples of My Writing Skills: They're too long to post, but here are links - Drops of Jupiter, HP/DW xover; the year that no one volunteered, THG; O Swear Not by the Moon, th' Inconstant Moon, DW; this is a song of two lonely people, Avengers/DW xover.
Amount of Permanent Characters: Pardon?
Mod
Mod
Age: 16
Genre: Fantasy/Super Hero/Adventure/Sci-fi/Horror/Dystopia/and other...
Experience: Well. ._.
Like What? A lot of RPing groups.
Example of writing: Here are some small pieces of writing I did-
* http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/3...
* http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/2...
Other n/a
Permanent Characters: I don't have any such thing.
I am on my nook and need to go bed, so I neither have the time nor resources to fill this out right now. ._.
Mod
get into the cat?? Gwhahahahhahahaha. *weird image...oh, wait. 'into the cat' *bad idea box*
message 24:
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ᑕᗢᗝᒪḰᓮᖙᖇᗢჯ123 ☆*･゜ﾟ･*\(^O^)/*･゜ﾟ･*☆, The Looming Greyness Above You
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get into the cat?? Gwhahahahhahahaha. *weird image...oh, wait. 'into the..."
Coolkidrox123 ☯ The Shadow ☯ wrote: "-.-' on phone getting shoited at by sis to get into the cat...will read afyer scjool"
BAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!!!! when i just read it i burs out laughing!!!!!! BAHAHHA
message 25:
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ᑕᗢᗝᒪḰᓮᖙᖇᗢჯ123 ☆*･゜ﾟ･*\(^O^)/*･゜ﾟ･*☆, The Looming Greyness Above You
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message 26:
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ᑕᗢᗝᒪḰᓮᖙᖇᗢჯ123 ☆*･゜ﾟ･*\(^O^)/*･゜ﾟ･*☆, The Looming Greyness Above You
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message 27:
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ᑕᗢᗝᒪḰᓮᖙᖇᗢჯ123 ☆*･゜ﾟ･*\(^O^)/*･゜ﾟ･*☆, The Looming Greyness Above You
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message 28:
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ᑕᗢᗝᒪḰᓮᖙᖇᗢჯ123 ☆*･゜ﾟ･*\(^O^)/*･゜ﾟ･*☆, The Looming Greyness Above You
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message 30:
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ᑕᗢᗝᒪḰᓮᖙᖇᗢჯ123 ☆*･゜ﾟ･*\(^O^)/*･゜ﾟ･*☆, The Looming Greyness Above You
(new)
Mod
I need a mod in charge of each genre. Someone that can bring good scenarios and that can give good constructive critisism 'cause i suck at that ^_^. Since im not that into distopian/Dystopian, paranormal and sci-fi i need minions to ake care of those genres. im also horrid at epic fantasy.. im ok with dark fanatasy but i still need help.... also im bad at urban fantasy...-.-'
Title: (not you nmae, i don't give a dagger's point about your name) ....BAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAH did i just say that
??!?!? :P XD
age: (13+ maybe 12)
Genre:
experiance in this genre:
Amount of storys/rps you've done about the genre:
give me an example of your writing skills:
other:
:):
amount of perminant character(s):