Moderator Application

[Leena, Money don't grow on trees]

Only Four Mod's will be required at this time.

Required Fields to Fill out

Name
Moderator Experience
RP Experience
Why You Think You Qualify
What You Can Bring To The Table
RP Example A Minimum of 7 lines required

[E L L E, I got bills to pay I got mouths to feed]

Name: Elle

Moderator Experience: I have acted as a moderator for the following groups: After the Apocalypse, Newmark University, The Kingdom, When Shadowhunters and Downworlders Mix, The Alpha Unit, Terrence Hall, Capitol Academy, Castaway, Dallas and soon to be open for business M.A.R.S Project.

RP Experience: I've been role-play since I was fourteen so that's nearly six years now. I've always been an avid writer and find roleplaying helps to develop my own literary skills and allow me to clear writer's block :) I began roleplaying over on the sims forums and moderated a handful of groups, the most notable of which had over one hundred and fifty members at it's most popular point. I helped to found a roleplaying forum over on Lefora with a select group of seven other role-players. This was perhaps where I really began to improve my writing and develop more complex characters and storylines. After we decided to head our separate ways I stumbled upon Goodreads and thus the rest is history. I've been on here for about four years now I think? Give or take...anyway I've been a fairly active figure within the roleplaying community and I have a reputation for being a massive wall poster >.>

Why You Think You Qualify: I'm on fairly frequently and hold up the flag for those in the GMT timezone, so I'm free to moderate when a lot of people are in bed and or at work. I'm very organised and something I do frequently on my own groups is clean up all text posts that aren't in chat. I'm very pernickety when it comes to that O.o I'm friendly and approachable, though perhaps a little forward when it comes to telling it how it is. I am however always happy to help and have a seriously wild imagination when it comes to helping out with characters and collating collabs.

What You Can Bring To The Table: Copious amounts of in role-play drama and bad boys that make you drool? Also organisational skills and a good ability to say no when it's needed.

RP Example:

It was the same dream, it always was. The one that continued to plague Sara even in her waking hours, the dream that stole her sleep and left her trembling in fear. A few visits to the therapist had done very little and here she was again, alone in the forest waiting for the nightmares to come. The forest was always silent in the dream, a deadly still that was both eery and unnatural. Nothing like the woodland setting of Montana, the trees alive with birdsong and the undergrowth crackling as animals scurried over leaves. The silence here was deafening. Turning a full circle rewarded Sara with only the notion that she was completely and utterly alone. Nothing moved, nothing sounded and it was as if the entire world was dead around her. For all she knew it could be.

But this part of the dream wasn't the cause of the fear. By comparison the deathly silence was almost comforting because what was yet to come was far more sinister. Sara could feel it now, growing and building, starting tremors in her body as the air raised gooseflesh on her bare arms. The first sound split through the air like a knife sending an icy chill up Sara's spine. It was a pained sound, the howling cry of a dying wolf. Her wolf to be exact. In the real world both her and the wolf were indistinguishable, Sara was the wolf and they were one and the same. In the dream world they were two separate entities and that was perhaps the most frightening conviction.

In an instant Sara was running, bare feet scarred by the earth as she raced between the trees. It was instinctual. The dream always reached the same conclusion. Sara had chosen not to run once before and the alternative had been far worse, frozen in the forest as the screams of the dying animal threatened to drive her insane. The only comfort she could take was that the dream would eventually end and she would awaken in her bedroom afraid but unharmed. And so she pressed on, hair flying as she slipped between the trees following the desperate howls of the creature that shared a part of her soul. The screams reached a crescendo as Sara tumbled into the clearing, her breath bursting from her lungs as her golden eyes sought out the familiar silver body.

In a moment Sara was on her knees, her skin grazing against the earth as she slumped on all fours beside the writhing wolf. The animal whined as Sara gathered the slender body up in her arms, clutching the wolf's head to her chest.

"It's okay, it'll be alright..." Sara whispered the soothing words, bracing herself against the earth as she waited with baited breath.

That's when the pain came. The white hot fire that seared through her very being, scorching her nerve endings and burning her very soul. Sara closed her eyes, gritting her teeth as the agony consumed her. As hard as she tried not to- tears began to fall from her golden eyes, streaking her cheeks. The wolf shuddered in her arms and blinking through bleary eyes Sara saw the featureless man enter the clearing.

He always appeared when the pain began to spike, when the tears in her eyes masked his identity and she couldn't make out his face. Sara blinked rapidly, trying as she always did to see his face, to find someone to blame for the dreams. She never succeeded though and more tears pooled as the fire seared through her. Sara always wondered if the man was her father, if the entire dream was a metaphor for his death and the pain that had caused. Her father wouldn't have hidden from her though and he wouldn't have caused this kind of torture. Sara grit her teeth, her fingers buried into the fur of her wolf. Even now as she begged herself to wake up Sara knew it was pointless, the dream always ended at the same point. She had to endure the pain and then...then she had to die.

Through blurry eyes she saw the man lift his hand, light erupting from his fingers. Flames arced high in the air, catching light to the trees above and burning the clearing around her. The fire licked at the grass, smoke rising into the air as the embers took hold and seared over the ground. As the smoke swirled the man vanished and Sara was alone once again with her wolf. The trembling creature giving one final howl before collapsing limp in her grip. Sara held the wolf close to her, hands shaking as the warmth seemed to seep from fur, chilling her to the bone. Even in the heat of the fire she was freezing. The flames rose high around her and Sara breathed deeply, feeling the choking heat of smoke in her lungs. A grey fog seemed to swirl in her vision and then the darkness came. She didn't even feel herself hit the ground.

Sara's golden eyes flew open as she gasped for air, clutching at the soft pillows as her vision was filled with the familiar panelled bedroom. She lay there amongst the soft furnishings as her breathing retreated to a steady rhythm, her heart thumping against her rib cage as her fear ebbed slowly away. Waking from the dream was almost as bad, gripped by the fear that she had actually died and that the wolf was no more. Sara reached for the glass of water on the nightstand and took a good long gulp. The water was tepid but it helped to soothe her, the burning was still imprinted on her, she couldn't feel it but she remembered it as if it were happening all over again. Sara needed to get out of the apartment. Even in the huge open space of her bedroom she felt trapped- an unease that had plagued her ever since that fateful night eight months ago.

Sara shivered and threw off the covers, clambering out of bed and thrusting her arms into a thin wool sweater. The sun was already in the sky, the dappled light filtering through the window and casting shadows on the wooden floor. Sara knew she ought to be training, the others had probably already risen, eaten and been to the gym by now. The thought of food made her stomach rumble, Sara was ravenously hungry. That was at least one bonus that came with the wolf blood, the ability to eat whatever she wanted and not put on a pound. A smile touched her face as she dumped half a pack of bacon in the pan and flicked the coffee machine on. Soon the kitchen was filled with the smell of coffee and bacon, the two scents mingling in the air. Sara sniffed appreciatively as she sandwiched the rashers between two slices of bread and scarfed it down, barely giving herself a chance to chew the food. The coffee was scalding but the burn was bearable in comparison to the fire from her dreams, she drank it quickly before dashing off to get ready for the day.

Less than half an hour later she stood at the door, fumbling for her keys in her bag. Sara was dressed in sports wear, skin tight leggings and a loose t-shirt. She figured it would be best to get some physical training in before she lost the entirety of the morning. Finally getting her fingers around the keys Sara left her apartment, locked the door behind her and headed off to the gym for some much needed training.

[ɯɐɔ]

Name -- Cameron
Experience -- plenty of groups, including many of yours. Specifically, I've modded/owned the following: Victor Victorious, Terrence Port, Capitol Academy, Age of Violence, Incarnates, V.O.L.K.E., Project Dioskouroi, Embassy Row, Crawl, Land of Fear, Gone, and various 1x1 or brainstorming groups.
I've been roleplaying for around three years now, with two on Tumblr.
Qualification -- I'm a pretty strong moderator, IMO, and active all the time because I have no life. I'm always able to help out and... #capgirlsdoitbetter; I'm also a huge fan of this type of fantasy rp, where it's brought into a realistic setting (and southern gothic???!11!!!!1! my fav??!1!!)
What I Can Bring To The Table -- a strong set of morals though my characters may lack them, an experienced helping hand, ideas, opinions, and overall help.
Example--

Julian watched Jae with a glint in his eye, and ran a hand through his own dark ebony hair. "Noted," he replied, sliding out of the booth. "Also, feel free to gaze longingly at my ass when I order. I'm wearing what feels like a cross between yoga pants and jeans. Not skinny jeans, mind you, but they are 'tight through the thighs'." Julian turned and crossed the small cafe to the register, where the teenage girl behind it tried her hardest not to stare.


"I'll have a double espresso, and a mug of the house brew," Jules said smoothly, taking out his wallet. He pulled out a ten to pay for the coffee, and stuck the change from that ("and 4.75 is your change, sir,") and a crisp hundred dollar bill in the small homemade tip jar. The girl's eyes widened. Bringing his voice down to a b-movie conspiratorial whisper, he leaned in. "We were never here, and if I find out form someone that we were--" he checked the small name tag on her shirt ("HELLO, my name is Jenny") ""--Jenny, there will be consequences."

[sucre'd fiend]

( name ) Fiend
( experience ) Welp, I've been a moderator in a good number of advanced groups. To name a few, Something Special, Academy for Mystical Beings, Supernatural Academy, and Age of Violence. I've been roleplaying for roughly three to four years now ( whoa, didn't even realize until just now ) and I've been an advanced roleplayer for like a year or so of that time.
( qualifications ) Uhm, Supernatural roleplays are my shit? Like, I'm very good at these kinds of roleplays, and I'm not afraid to experiment with characters and settings. I think I could be very strong as a moderator because of this.
( what can you bring ) As stated, my niche has always been in dark places. Supernatural roleplays and like would be included there. I can bring ideas for pretty much anything, most specifically in conflicts and villains that could spur roleplays and plots.
( example )
(view spoiler)[The boy with the rust-color hair was at war. At war with what; himself, the world, that small need and growing need to see something hurt and cry? No one could really say as much when they first looked him in the eyes. He was a collection of sweet deaths rolled into a singular being, voiced with the hymns of a thousand dying minds. Energy surged through his every step, eager for him to arrive at his destination. His mind was still fresh as the morning dew with the images of carnage he'd left behind, and good God, he wanted to see more of it. He was tempted to turn around, walk back those hundreds of miles just to see it again, but he had a different purpose, and more bloody happenings to see.

As it so fortunately came to him, the air was filled with the coppery scent of blood and a small puddle of blood was visible only a little bit away. Hunched over it all was a girl, small in a large ratty sweater. The contrast between the tired, excited rich little boy and this girl who assumed was a runaway of one reason or another wasn't so vast in this one moment. Blood, even if there's no need for relation, was a connecting force as much as anything else around them. The boy with hair the color of blood and mud cocked his head to the side, halting only a few steps away from the girl. Here was this creature, bleeding out before him, and yet he couldn't seem to work up any more excitement than he already had. Blood usually did the trick in sending a hum through his body and into his finger tips, yet it wasn't working now.

His brows furrowed, his lips parted with questions ready to be asked, but he stopped himself. A moment of silence passed, then another, and another until they passed in a handful of minutes. What would he say? What would he do? Most times he'd egg the person on, push them through their actions until there was nothing left but a violent sort of peace. Gained, lost, given, taken; he could make those things happen with peace of mind and self. But he didn't feel so much the need to do that now. It was probably because it was a girl hunched over in front of him. He had yet to shake those nasty little principles of polite engagement with any and every female. He couldn't let that part of him go, he supposed. It was likely the only way he'd be able to identify himself in the din of the war in his mind.

He crouched beside her, eyes alight with wonder and a beautiful glint of a faint guilt. He licked his lips, slow and almost calculated, as he observed her. What to do, what to do. He figured he could end her suffering, in some basic act of violence. There were plenty of rocks at his disposal that he could use to crack her skull open. For the most part, however, she seemed to be doing a fairly good job all her own. His head tipped to the other side, his movement slow and smooth like a snake latching its sight on prey. But, this was prey of a different kind. His intentions, he soon realized, were nothing close to destructive. He, almost miraculously, wanted to save her. Like a gift, she'd bled in front of him.

Maybe she was meant to be his redemption, one thing to keep him from fire and brimstone. He was silent for another couple seconds, before his hands clasped around the area of her arm just before the gushing wound. Fingers like talon, hooked on tight enough to leave little crescent moons on her skin from his nails, he removed one hand to release the blade from her grip.

"What are you doing," he hissed, a monotonous twang of someplace Southern coloring his words, "What are you doing? Don' y'know better than to this? What, are y' crazy? Death ain't ready for you just yet, miss. He ain't ready to take y' soul just yet. You just got to wait, be patient. There ain't nothing we can do when he tells us to wait."

He'd sent many a person to their meager deaths. Sometimes by his own hands around their necks, a knife well placed, or simply by his words, but he'd done. Something in him now, something he didn't quite understand but knew well, didn't want to see this girl die. There was a potential in the way she cut through flesh, a peaceful rhythm to the way her blood pushed forth to the ground. Maybe that was why he didn't want to see her die; so that he could watch her bleed continuously. (hide spoiler)]

[Kikki]

[Name] Kikki
[Moderator Experience] I've modded in more groups than I've made, to be honest. Some of these include:
The Rougher the Seas
Writers Cafe (I believe everyone in the group is made a mod however)
Victor Victorious
Something Special
A Death in Summer
Illea Rises
A Gathering of Beauteous Souls (Created by me)
The Endless War
The Great Awakening
The Unrighteous
Hogwarts
The Neitherlands
Utopia
Yorktown Academy
Exodus
[RP Experience] I've been roleplaying off and on since roughly 2004? With more advanced roleplaying posts appearing around 2013-2014
[Why You Think You Qualify] I'm a huge fan of supernatural and they are what I am more proficient and knowledgeable in, with the forefront of it being Grimm fairy tales. I love thinking outside the box, or reinventing old ideas into new ones and incorporating lots of ideas into a new idea.
[What You Can Bring To The Table]
1) I am very good at keeping topics clean, and have no issues with deleting spam from topics, as I know its not always the task one wishes to do especially in large groups where there might be a lot.
2) Due to my normal activity level, if I were to take over any of the topics like the FC or Character Claim topics, I could update every day so everyone knows where things stand.
3) I am good at researching, so even though I am not entirely familiar with what this group is based around, I can find answers pretty fast when I know what I'm looking for.
4) I am a very amiable mod and generally get along with everyone, but also know when to play and when to enforce rules.
5) I'm big on grammar and spelling, and can proofread characters for that so it helps reflect the advanced aspect of the group.
6) I'm not afraid to ask questions even after becoming a mod to ensure that whatever it is I am doing or wish to do will be for the benefit of the group as well as correlate with what you are doing and the idea behind the group.
[RP Example A Minimum of 7 lines required]
(view spoiler)[

"You can never escape me, my little doll. You will forever remain in my clutches." The sharp kiss of a knife broke her skin again and again and she trembled, unable to stop herself from whimpering in fear as he raised the blade again before bringing it down sharply to punish her.


Aurelia could still feel the touch of the blades upon her skin, the pressure of his body forcing hers down and himself within, the aches from when he hit her for angering him. It had been two days since she had escaped from his clutches, two days since she had been running as fast as she could in her heavily injured state to find somewhere she could be safe from him. She still looked over her shoulder, even now, as she raced through an unknown area filled with flowers and trees. The memories were so fresh on her mind, that often they melded with her reality, forcing her to relive moments that caused her such terror and would leave her fleeing blindly, just desperate to get away. Pain thrummed through her entire being as she forced herself forwards, and the bandages were long since soaked in her blood, with more starting to drip from beneath. Her strength was flagging fast, she had barely any to begin with and had been running mostly on fear and adrenaline. She stumbled onwards blindly, pushing her way into the castle gardens from an unknown gap in the back, and she only managed to get in because of her petite frame.

As she stumbled into the garden, she managed to get over to a tree and lean against it, panting for breath and with her vision swimming. She was barely clinging to consciousness, terror the only thing keeping her moving, but even that was starting to not be enough. That is, until she heard the rustling of foliage behind her. It mattered not that it was just a squirrel flying about the trees. To her, it was the sound of Remiel finally finding her after two days. Terror coursed through her veins more powerfully than before and she turned, bolting blindly through the garden, stumbling and almost falling as what little strength remained started to fail her until suddenly, she ran into something and fell back, unable to stop herself from yelping out in pain as her contact with the ground caused pain to flare intensely through her body. She trembled in a mixture of terror and pain as she looked up at what she ran into, looking very much like an injured, startled deer seconds from bolting even without the strength to get far. Her clothes, or what was left of them, were covered in her blood, most of it fresh, and the bandages that peeked out from the tatters of her clothes, and on her hands and down to her ankles and feet, were soaked in her blood. "P-please......please don't hurt me...." she whimpered, tears in her eyes as she struggled to move and only managed to painfully inch away from who she had encountered, pain filled whimpers escaping her as she struggled to inch away, terrified of being hurt again at the hands of another.

(hide spoiler)]

[lil' Lily [ filled with DETERMINATION ]]

{ n a m e } Ronia

{ m o d - e x p e r i e n c e } At the current moment, I'm the main mod of an X-Men group that has pretty decent traffic, I have created a few smaller groups, and I am the mod of a book group and a manga group. I also mod a few non-GR groups, just in case that's important!

{ r o l e p l a y - e x p e r i e n c e } Actually, I've only been roleplaying for the past year or so, but I learn quickly and I started advanced roleplaying pretty soon after I began.

{ w h y - i - q u a l i f y } I'm on very frequently, I love organizing things, I adore lists, I enjoy answering questions and helping people out whenever the need arises.

{ h o w - i - c a n - h e l p } First of all, I'm on very frequently, so any lists given to me will typically stay neat and tidy, and I always check and update them frequently. Second of all, I love helping people out and answering questions, so if anybody ever has any trouble, I'm always more than happy to lend a hand and even give them step-by-step instructions if need be. Third of all, I consider myself a pretty creative person, so if the need for new and fresh ideas arose, I'd love to help out. Fourth and finally, I derive pleasure from keeping things neat and tidy, so making threads and folders and to-do lists and all that delight me, if you would ever need something like that.

{ r o l e p l a y - e x a m p l e } (view spoiler)[
So. Yeah. That happened. Amira wasn't really positive what to do now. Apparently she had passed the girl's test, so now whhat? Should she bring her to the infirmary? But it didn't really seem like she appreciated being neared, let alone touched. So then... what happened next? Amira was so focused on the girl before her, she didn't even notice the woman crawling up near them until she cleared her throat. Whipping her head towards her at an alarming rate, basically ready to lop off the head of whatever had done this to the girl, she nearly collapsed with relief when she saw it was only a cook. But wait, didn't that mean that the person who had harmed the girl before her was still wandering around?

Apparently this person- Faria was it?- had also passed the girl's test, because she wasn't bolting away from the scene like it seemed she wanted to do so badly. God, what he hell had happened to this girl? What the hell had happened to herself? She was jumping at every single noise that she heard, all because of this one girl. What could there possibly be to be that afraid of? Another good look at the girl silenced these thoughts, renewing her initial uneasiness.

Then the girl spoke, her voice nearly filled to the top with fear, but Amira shoved her own panic out of the way to listen to this girl. Ok, so she was Aurelia. So far, so good. Okay goo- WAIT NO OMINOUS WARNINGS OF DANGEROUS THINGS BAD NOT GOOD!!! Mini sirens went off in Amira's head, but she willed herself to stay, if only so she could sleep at night without checking under her bed. Okay, so, what Amira got was, "Big bad something or other coming to end all of us and possibly the world, please hide me and help me start a rebellion against the scary big magical demon that is coming for me." Her imagination may or may not have filled in a few of the blanks.

Amira asessed the situation. Okay, so, if a demon was coming after her it wouldn't be too long before it found them, right? So should she flee? No, people who fled were always eaten and quickly forgotten. So, um... She should side with the angels and fight! Wait, where did that come from?! Her still barely intact rational side shouted above everything else.
But a demon is co-
THIS ISN'T A FANTASY NOVEL IDIOT!!!
Oh yeah.
And with that, her thoughts of adventures and angels and demons dissapeared, leaving her rational side to take over now that she wasn't quite so shaken. "Dear, we can help you," Amira said, glacing at Faria for confirmation. "And I promise we won't let- him- find you."
Unless he's an all powerfu-
SHUT IT!!!
"What do you need us to do dear?" Amira asked quietly, honestly unsure. Did she want medical attention? But bringing her to the infirary would mean alerting tons of people, and it didn't seem as though Aurelia wanted that kind of attention anyway. "We could take you to my room if you want...?" Amira offered, again unsure. In fact, if someone told her to leave now she would have done it. All she needed was an order, one that she could follow easily, and she would concentrate all her focus on doing it, because damn, today, she didn't want to focus on anythig else. (hide spoiler)]

[ʀᴇᴅ]

Name;

Red

Moderator Experience;

mainly the Royal Selection group and I was a mod of the sister group for a bit. there's some groups on a non-goodreads site as well.

RP Experience;

well I've been doing this for three or four years? wait how old am i... nah yeah, three. alright I just checked and it'll be four years in June! how exciting! anyway, I used to roleplay on another site with mainly one liners and such, until discovered this gem a year after. I admit I was a bit intimidated but I've made it this far. I am constantly trying harder to further my experience in writing and tend to research things to do so. I tend to write two paragraphs, though if I had enough to write about, I think I could do more?

Why You Think You Qualify;

is me being awesome not enough for you people? wow. I think I qualify because I'm going to go ahead and help people anyways, it's a bit apart of my nature. also, I'm pretty active and that could be useful. I also can come up with some pretty good ideas if I tried I sound very unimpressive. I'm a generally nice person who likes to keep thing organized and won't mind doing some big projects or boring tasks.

What You Can Bring To The Table;

some bomb ass cookies. I mean I can bring my friendly personality to newbies or everyone in general and help them, whether it be explaining broad questions or just pointing them in the right direction. as stated above, I'm decently active and tend to at least check notifications for things that are important.

RP Example;

(view spoiler)['I learned once that if you were blind and untalented they killed you. That you were put in the eighth caste or just straight out killed. Both options lead to death. I don't believe I'm untalented, but I also don't believe I'm blind. At least, I'm sure I'm not. Why, I was using my sight just this morning. I woke up and went for a run. Then I attended breakfast and made funny faces at Oliver and Lillian, and basically all my family members if they bothered to look. But then what happened? Oh yes! The attack. The rebels came in from the windows and even the hall, and I heard screams everywhere. Next thing you know the room was a blur, so many bodies moving and so much going on. I risked my life for a few girls who may have actually died had I not come along. My family members were tugged away to safety, but I was on the other side of the room. A girl, just as beautiful as the night sky and by the name of Renesme was getting cornered just to my right. And to my left? There was a chair. So, I hit the male with it just as a guard arrived to pull us too, to safety. And hell, maybe I would've made it. We ran, dodging attacks and making sure we weren't injured. But of course, just as we made our way to the safe room, the guard was caught by surprise. The door was open, waiting for us to go in now, but the guard was slumped on the ground, his head bleeding from the bullet wound. I saw the killer, and I could've ran in. But she was behind me, and she would have gotten shot. I knew that, I knew it would have happened. So I did the noble thing. And I pushed her in, closed the door behind her, and dropped to my knees, hands up in surrender.

I recall being hit with his gun. No wonder my head was pounding. He must have knocked me unconscious and I was now his prisoner. Prisoner to the Rebels. What a nice title, especially when you add in the fact that they were southern rebels. They were pretty deadly, anyone would agree, but I was alive. Or, I believe I am alive. For now anyway. Who knows how much longer my life will be. If anything, I suppose I may as well list out my hopes and dreams to you. I hoped to get married, and have kids. Quite a few too, as I like big families. My first born, if it was a boy would be named Ronan Aric Schreave. And if it was a girl, Nova Rosabella Schreave. Both, for my parents. But, even if they weren't my first born, I would probably still use those names. I also like the names Atlas, Bennet, Cole and Hunter for boys. Ariel, Winter, Celeste and Cassidy are nice girl names. I want twins at some point. I have good genes for them, so I believe it's likely. Me and my soulmate will get married before children of course, and all my nieces and nephews will get to be in it. I don't care if there's seven flower girls, that just means more flowers. I hope one day after we all have kids someone can capture us in photo and put it in the palace for everyone to remember. Speaking of which, we took pictures yesterday. It was mainly for Oliver and the selected, but afterwards my family took one. All of us, together. An image, of perfection.'

The door opened, and the young boy's thoughts came to an abrupt halt. A series of footsteps followed, ranging from sickeningly quiet to what seemed like someone was purposely stomping around. Beneath the blindfold, his chocolate eyes were open, looking at what seemed to be pure darkness. He was on a chair, ankles tied to a leg and wrists tied behind his back. His head pounded, but it wasn't as if he could just ask for some medical attention. He heard whispers over in the direction of the door, some sounding angry and other that just sounded normal. But, he made no attempt at listening. They'd tell him what they wanted him to know. And so, he continued sitting there. And he thought more about the future. He thought about the girls he liked, and how having children with them and living out the rest of their years together would be awfully enjoyable. And then came the light.

His eyes squinted as they began to adjust to light in the room, and no one spoke, giving him time to take in his surroundings. They were in what would be a dark room had there not been a bright lamp on the table. It was made of wooden boards, and the windows had shades to hide the secrets in the room. The door was in the corner of the room, near a desk and a bookshelf. He sat in a chair in front of the desk. There was space behind him, he could tell, but he couldn't turn that far. It smelled of pine needle and nature, and maybe he would have said something else was he not focused on what happened next.
"Are you sure this is him?" The man sat in a chair before him, and he sounded agitated. Another voice answered from behind, answering his question.
"We're positive. Just look at his clothes."
"He could be some diplomat or something."
"There's pictures to prove."
The man in front of him looked at him now, eyes burning with rage. "What's your name, kid?"
It occurred to the boy that he had not been gagged. They had simply tied him and blindfolded him, and left him here. But still, he refused to speak. The room was quiet for a moment, nothing to listen to but dim hum of what others assumed to be the sound of silence. The man—his captor—stood, and came before him. He bent over, putting his face directly in front of his. "I'm going to ask you one more time. What is your name?" Now it was just his eyes that dripped with rage, no his voice was swimming with it. And yet, the boy didn't answer. A smack to the face, was what he received. Left side, just under the cheek bone and made to affect his jaw more. It stung painfully, and his entire body broke out into goosebumps as his cheek reddened.
"Tell me your name, or it'll only get worse." The threat was enough to get him to speak.
"Zane. My name is Zane Maxon Schreave." The introduction was a bit formal, and his voice made him sound irritated, but that was that.

The next hour consisted of quite a lot. The captor asked Zane lots of questions and Zane refused to answered. He wasn't going to give away his family. No, he'd rather die. In return of his lack of answers, Zane was beaten. Hell, the rebels behind him too turns hitting him. You won't say Illea's military plans? Alright, here's a kick to the shin. No words to the status of the crown prince and where he sleeps? Okay, a punch in the gut. Simple things really. No super intense questions, and nothing that break any bones. So why should the young Prince complain? Sure, there were plenty of reasons, enough for him and probably everyone currently in his home, but still, he wouldn't complain. And he wouldn't budge. Zane wasn't going to say anything and his captor could tell. He was on edge, but Zane was exactly where they had started. And it made him even more enraged.

The captor had at one point sat back down, and questioned Zane from afar, It was better this way, as then he wouldn't have the urge to pull out his knife and stab the Prince in the eye. But, he was now up, and slowly made his way over to Zane. Only this time, he just stood in front of him. He was thinking, Zane could tell, and he was even tempted to ask, but he knew he would get no answer, so he sat and stared back. And then the captors eyes almost light up, as if an idea had struck him. And sure enough, one had. He stepped closer to the Prince, and Zane opened his ears to listen.
"Prince Zane, the youngest son of the King of Illea," The captor began, smiling smugly at Zane. "I understand you are refusing to speak for a few reasons. Like that you'd be committing treason, and that you'd essentially be the cause of your entire family's death, and many other reasons I'm sure I don't need to bring up. But, there are reasons you should speak up. The Royal family does not know how to rule, and by helping me get to them, you'd be doing Illea a favor, Zane. I'd make you King, and you could rule to country for yourself, me at your side, guiding you in the proper direction. The country would flourish under your control, and the world would be fantastic. All you have to do is speak. Tell me how to get into the palace undetected, Zane. And the country is yours."
It was quite an offer, anyone had to admit that. He was just asking how to bring down Illea, or, the royal family, and once he did so he was prepared to simply hand it over to Zane. Zane, was the second—or third, counting Carter—last in line to the crown. His entire family would have to die for him to be given the crown, and even then, what would be the point? Who would be there to watch him be a good leader, who would be there to love and care for him? No one. Everyone would be dead, or hate him. Sure, this was something some people dreamed of. Hell, Zane knew princes that would pay for this to happen to them, but he wasn't one. He was comfortable where he was, and intended on keeping that way. Alive or not. The sound of silence seemed to be at its highest point, screeching with all its might. Hands snaked around the young Prince's neck, and Zane curiously wondered what was about to go down. His captor was seething, and Zane could just feel his heart beat in his chest.
"Well, then I guess this is it, Prince. I don't suppose you have an last words?" His hands adjusted, one on his neck and the other on his head. He was prepared to strike, but then the unexpected happened, and the Prince responded.
"You'll never get to them. You'll always be stuck out here, watching and waiting. But the time will never come. You'll die before you get your chance." And that was it.

Prince Zane Schreave died seconds later. He died instantaneously from spinal shock as the man snapped his neck. He was put into a box like a coffin, and sent to the palace. On the side was a note from his captor reading, "Here lies your useless son. We have no need of him and the very sight of him sickens me. Your welcome." The coffin was opened by guards and examined very thoroughly to make sure it was not deadly. But no, it was just Zane in the box. He looked just as he had left, except beaten up a little and with a bump on his head. But he was dead. The funeral was a few days later, and the entire country was in mourning. And that was just the beginning of the plan. (hide spoiler)]