application

[sucre'd fiend, born sinner]

Here is where moderator applications shall be. At the present moment ( 12.4.15 ), I am looking for only one moderator. Please fill in the application, and by the end of next week, I will have reached my decision. Accepted member(s) will be informed, and an announcement will be made before I close this thread.

Name:
Time Zone:
Ideas for the Roleplay:
Activity:
Roleplay Sample:

[๖ۣۜSαᴙαh]

Name: Sarah
Time Zone: EST
Ideas for the Roleplay: I'm a fan of politics, and I think it would be interesting for there to be some kind of insurgency among either the White Lotus (through demon infiltration), or perhaps dissention and discord among the demons.
Activity: I am online on weekdays, and usually ghosting on weeknights and weekends, though I have my random bouts of activity
Roleplay Sample: (view spoiler)[The insinuation made by the Brujah stranger caused Xiao Mei’s eyes to flash with a surge of uncharacteristic anger and it was all she could do to not break a nail by squeezing her palm too tightly. Though emotion showed for a mere second through her almond eyes (she hoped to God the other vampire hadn’t caught it), the Harpy willed herself to continue curling her lip up in amusement as if she would laugh out loud any minute. Something about his interaction with her made the Toreador think that he often kept company with her clansmen, and of course, she wanted to know who and why. But a little bit at a time; fishing required patience after all.

“That’s quite the story you’ve got cooking up, and I must admit it is rather amusing,” she murmured, playing the same game of deliberately avoiding a direct answer. Why would anyone ever be jealous of that whore? Though she couldn’t help but add, “As a matter of fact, I’ve worked very hard to get where I am, and I don’t intend to stop,” she revealed to the ne’er do well with a delicate arch of a perfectly plucked brow. Something you rebel rousing rabble would never understand. “But my life must be a bore in comparison to yours,” she sighed audibly with a gentle roll of her eyes in fake self-deprecation. “You, on the other hand, look like you’ve traveled the world,” she told Niall, pointedly glancing down at his unkempt and threadbare appearance. “Why make a pit stop in Atlanta, other than for the obvious?” she queried, the evident reason for doing so clear in the Harpy’s mind, though the Brujah may have been too stupid to catch it. As proud as any Brujah… don’t make me laugh.

***

How did he always manage to make her feel like a little girl again? Every goddamn time he opened his fucking mouth, she felt like she was two inches tall. The evidence of her recent feeding manifested on her face and at Colton’s somewhat snarky comment concerning her reputation, Zyana felt herself flush. She couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed, angry or just drunk, but she knew that she was no longer giddy. She thanked her lucky stars he had averted his gaze. “What is that supposed to mean?” Meghan demanded before she remembered where she was. “You know what:” she held up her hand to stop him from replying if he had intended on doing so. “Let’s… not do this.” Not here. Not now. They could fight and throw furniture behind closed doors, but in public, Zyana was adamant on maintaining her cool with her infuriating “brother”, so help her God. Sure, a part of her wanted to scream and demand what the fuck he meant, but she’d hold her tongue for the sake of their family’s reputation. It was one thing to mar her own name by misbehaving from time to time, but Meghan had been raised in a world where you didn’t drag your family through the mud when you made a mistake.

Colton had had absolutely no right to be an ass to her, but when the Brujah Whip paused to mentally count to ten, she realized that his jump in conclusion had stemmed from a point of concern—even if it was only because their sire had sent him here (Zyana was convinced that this was the case even if her “brother” refused to confirm it). “But you’re right: I don’t need you to look over my shoulder, and I can take care of myself,” she insisted for the millionth time with him. “Niall would never hurt me,” she voiced with conviction. “He’s one of us,” she reminded him. God, did he now have a problem with anyone she chose to hang out with? First it was non-Brujah, and now it just seemed to be all men or anyone for that matter in general. And why did she care? Why was his goddamn opinion so important. You’re an idiot, Meghan, she scoffed inwardly. Ugh, hurry up, Niall. (hide spoiler)]

[Denver -writes poems drinks wine-]

Name: Denver
Time Zone: Central
Ideas for the Roleplay: I think it would be very interesting to see what would happen if you do decide to have the angels step into this, which I have a few ideas for. I also think it would be very interesting if the Vatican got corrupted by the Demons, if one infiltrated the 'holy land.'
Activity: online practically all the time tbh...except for the seven hours at night when I sleep
Roleplay Sample:
(view spoiler)[
Arietta Lark Cwenhild d'Audrieu was born on a dark, stormy night, a night where witch craft occurs and spells are cast. The kind of night where young humans can go out and never return. This was the night she was born into, the night that would shape the entire entity of her being. And the night accepted her as one of its own.

Arietta's mother died in childbirth, claimed by the blood and the darkness. Her named was Lynette. Her father could not handle raising a child who looked so much like his deceased wife that he abandoned her in an alleyway. It wasn't as if he wanted her to die so much that he was swallowed up by his own sorrows and was not sure what else to do.

And alone, in that alleyway, colicky as she should have been in her infant state, she did not cry or scream. She sat, breathing softly as the darkness was made to her home.
An older man, a man of the night himself, an assassin named Dr. Black, was walking by when he noticed her, bathed in a spotlight made by the moon. He picked up the newborn and brought her with him, naming her himself.

Dr. Black, known to her simply as "daddy," began training her as soon as she could take her first step. He had recognized her as a child of the night and knew she would grow to be an assassin as he had. Dr. Black was a man who believed very much in fate, and he knew Arietta had been given to him for some reason, and he would not let that go to waste.

Arietta made her first kill at the age of seven. Dr. Black was given a job, one easy enough he though, for her to handle. The small girl made her way along the rooftops, bathed in moonlight, her hair which had never been cut by her adopted father, flowing out behind her as if she had a trail of fire. She flipped herself through a skylight in a large mansion, the home of someone she did not know and never would. She found the woman lying asleep in her bed, her husband sleeping with her. Thankfully enough, they were not intertwined. They slept beneath sheets of red, as if her body had already bled out. Arietta pulled a small, silver knife out of her boot and made the cut across her neck, quick and deep as she had been taught, severing vocal chords so no cries could be made. After that, she left a small bird feather behind, a token of her assassination, something Dr. Black had taught her to do. His symbol was a black rose, her would be a lark feather.

She stole her way home afterwords, not unafraid, but not terrified either. She felt as if something were looming over her. She returned to the home she shared with her daddy, nodding to say the job had been done. Then she went up to her room, heated herself a bath, and scrubbed herself clean. She scrubbed and scrubbed, till her skin was red and raw. She heard someone enter the house, most likely to pay Dr. Black.

"Is the job done?" a raspy voice said, one she did not recognize. His voice was like the sound of a wooden crate being pushed across bricks. Thick, heavy, and scratchy in the most uncomfortable way.

"Just freshly finished." Dr. Black replied, and she could picture him in his black jacket, holding out his hand for the payment they had agreed upon. She heard the sound of a bag of money being thrown to his hand.

"Good." The voice said, "Because if I couldn't have her, then no one else could either."

Arietta froze in the bathtub, realizing what he meant, whom she had killed. An innocent woman, whom the mystery man had loved but could not possess. She climbed out of the bath and wrapped herself in a robe, leaning against the wall, thinking.

This is how Dr. Black found her, three hours later.
"This is the darkness of our job, Arietta." He said softly and solemnly, "This is how we live. We cannot pick and choose our jobs, who we kill, why they are being killed. We only do what no one else can handle."he placed an old hand on her shoulder, "But you can handle it, daughter. You are a daughter of the night." (hide spoiler)]

[Kikki, I'm a sinner who will always sin again- Lust]

[ Name ] Kikki
[ Time Zone ] Eastern
[ Ideas for the Roleplay ]
- Demons infiltrating the White Lotus to gather intel, maybe even attempting to corrupt those with artifacts to get some more powerful demons on their side
- White Lotus researchers make an artifact that can make someone pass for a demon and they infiltrate the demons for intel
- Angels stepping in, like Denver said, would also be hella rad and interesting
- The embodiment of each sin being made (like one specifically Lust, Wrath, Envy, Sloth, Greed, Gluttony, and Pride) as like Lucifer's second in commands, made to oppose the angels centuries ago by being the opposite of the angels (Pride, the opposite of Humility. Then Wrath against Patience, Envy against Kindness, Gluttony against Abstinence, Lust against Chastity, Diligence against Sloth, and Liberality against Greed.) While not all the sins would still be interested in the war, some might be ah....easily distracted by other things, the ones left can be ranked as higher ups compared to the Kings or the Knights cause they were essentially made first or w/e (not counting Lucifer, his wife, or any kids they gave birth to of course) Then you could have angels made who are the opposites of the sins and maybe at one point a super awesome battle between sins and virtues can happen!
- Assassination attempts on Lucifer and the heads of the White Lotus
[ Activity ] On a lot, moreso in certain groups (like this one) then others (like Mirrorwood)
[ Roleplay Sample ] (view spoiler)[Teddy could feel the tears falling faster at Felix's words, just the utterance of his name broke his heart more than it had been at the start. At the rest of his words, where he spoke of not being able to protect him, he broke. Forgoing the pain his bruises came him, for surely it would hurt less than the emotions drowning him now, he turned and clung to Felix, very nearly spilling the dittany but luckily as he shifted to press himself closer to his friend and cry into his shoulder, his leg pushed the jar further onto the seat rather than onto the floor. "O-oh Felix......I-I....I was so scared." he sobbed, clinging to him so tightly it had to hurt him terribly on all the places he was bruised, and his whole body was shaking from the sadness and the pain alike. "B-but.....I-I couldn't tell anyone.....I-I can't tell anyone....if anyone were to find out....i-if Onny found out...." his eyes widened in a very real fear and he clung to Felix tighter. "Please don't tell Onny, Felix!" he suddenly said, sounding out of his mind with fear. "She can't know! You shouldn't know, you're in danger for knowing if anyone knows you know and I can't stand you being hurt. I don't want anyone else being hurt because of me, especially you Felix. Please, you can't tell!" His hands were fisted in his sweater vest, fingers tangled in the fabric, his vest was soaked in Teddy's tears as he clung to him desperately. He was too scared to give details on who did it, and why, but it was clear that whoever did it to him had enough power to hurt anyone who found out. "Y-you can.....you can put the dittany on.....just......just please don't tell..." he murmured. The longer he clung so tightly to Felix, put pressure on the bruises, the more his mind was getting hazy from the pain. But he couldn't help himself. He desired his friends company, his affection and his comforting touch so much that he'd literally, was actually, hurting himself severely just to get it. (hide spoiler)]

[๖ۣۜSαᴙαh]

I'm removing my application because I realize that I might not be as available to help out if/when necessary.

[sucre'd fiend, born sinner]

Okay, thank you for letting me know ^-^

[๖ۣۜSαᴙαh]

NP. Of course I'll still be active to RP our kings. :D

[[deleted user]]

name ;; zwink
time zone ;; mountain time
ideas for the roleplay ;; what all these other people said are hella cool, and i'd love to see all of it, but i'd also like to see potentially another small group of neutrals, people who want to see both sides fall, believing that the reason for all of the bad in the world is due to the two sides fighting constantly. they probably wouldn't be well funded, and have to do everything in secret, because both sides would be well able to shut down their operation.
activity ;; it may not seem like it now, but i really am active. i've been busy as hell with finals, but tuesday is the last of it, and then i have a month off. so, aside from work, i'll be on practically all the time. next semesters schedule will also allow me greater freedom to get on.
roleplay sample ;; (view spoiler)[Taken from City of Broken Souls rp

Mickey was all about not assuming the worst in people, and certainly when he noticed the slight altercations in his paycheck over the years, he made it a point to not care, because how would he know what exactly was happening with the politics of the night club? The answer was he didn't, so he said not a word, and that was fine. He was still getting paid, and it was still a fair bit of money, plus tips, so not a big deal. He'd always took notice to things like that though. He might not have been the most intelligent person in the walls, but he certainly knew how to calculate a steady paycheck. Either way, no big deal, right?

Well, now, it was a very big fucking deal. He came in to get his money only to find that it was far from what he was expecting. He even re-calculated to make sure he wasn't just being stupid. No, he was definitely being cheated out of money, and this time, it was a noticeable chunk, at least to him. Not many would likely bother with it, but he needed this money to pay rent, to organize his events, to live his life. Tips or not, the cost of living in the Heart was not cheap.

Mickey tried his best not to let his anger boil over at the thought of being cheated. This was his best friend's parents' establishment after all. But, it was in vain as he made his way to the offices. That girl they had working as the accountant, Sol's twin or something like that, was in today, wasn't she? Without much thought into it, he very nearly took down one of the pictures on the wall with the way he came around the corner. Oops. He straightened it out before putting a hand on the knob of the door. Should he knock? Yeah, he probably should have, but he didn't, and instead in his frustration, just walked in without much of a care.

"You're the one in charge of writing out our paychecks, right?" he shot an accusatory stare straight at the girl trembling at the desk. He was reminded of a mouse, kind of, and something else he couldn't put his finger on. He practically didn't see Sol until he'd already gotten half-way into the room. Well, shit, he wasn't supposed to be here. He didn't really want to have this conversation with others around. Especially not the girl's brother. Twin was worse. He sort of instinctively backed down in his puffed out, clearly frustrated demeanor, glancing at Sol before his gaze settled fully on the girl, waiting for an answer. (hide spoiler)]

[ash]

name ;; ashley; nicknames include ash, ashes, lee and suzy q.
time zone ;; eastern time zone ( I'm from vermont, where we worship cows and ice cream )
idea's for the roleplay ;; well, for starters I love this group and I thought 'why the heck not' in applying to help you out with anything you need. for an idea I was thinking that maybe there can be a group of humans that made a deal with lucifer years ago ( a small clan of people ) they can call themselves the black lotus. The deal was that they help protect them in exchange for the clan to have an immortal life?
activity ;; I'm on goodreads at least every day for a good portion of time. When I have work or school or either family things I'm not on GR. I may pop up occasionally to check in and see whats going on.
roleplay sample ;;
(view spoiler)[ Colette whipped her head behind her when she heard her name being called, strands of brown curls blowing in her face. Not paying attention to the rest of the words that came out of his mouth, she did in fact; managed to hear her name. Who the hell was this guy? and how did he know her name? Well, I guess she couldn't be too surprised, seeing how she was royalty -- royalty, the word rolled off her tongue like that meant nothing to her. She swung her body around, now facing the well structured man. Her golden brown oculars stared at him, intensely. Her arms folded up around her chest, an eyebrow arched out of curiosity. She's never seen this guy around the kingdom before, and addressing her in such a manner?

"That's a bit informal. Don't you think?"

Colette didn't really care what people called her, but if she was a princess, she was most certainly going to play the part of being one. She walked over to where she tossed her mask, she bent over, picking it up. Her body language was awkward, trying to make herself look like a lady, but not really knowing how, she never really had the 'practice' of being formal.

Picking up her mask, she walked over to the guy, shoving it in his arms. Like he was some servant, she hated treating people the way she did, but if her father found out she was being nice to "the help" then she would get punished.

"Take that to my room," She demanded. "Oh, and another thing," She added, leaning over again, taking off her incredibly uncomfortable pitchy shoes. "Here," She said, also shoving them in his hands. (hide spoiler)]

[sucre'd fiend, born sinner]

ugh ugh ugh
it's so hard to chooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooose

[dyanne, fallen angel]

name: dyanne
time zone: pacific standard time
ideas for the roleplay: //crashes in unfashionably late, as usual// honestly, I thought I was done roleplaying for good, but then I got this group invite and... well. I want some inner white lotus corruption. Humans who are willing to give up their morality for the sake of immortality, even if it means questionable compromises and sacrifices. I want them to believe that this is the only way forward, to have fought in one too many wars and feel the hopelessness and desperation constantly dragging them down. I want demon souls that, for unknown reasons, start decomposing, higher-level thought dissolving and giving way to a much more monstrous, primal beast within. I want bodies that suddenly reject the foreign beings within them. I want jealousy and lust and greed to consume both sides. I want the humans on the outside to desperately grapple with loose ends, groping for the truth and ending up tangling themselves further into the mess. I don't necessarily believe another group has to be created-- with the resources you've provided us, there's plenty of room for development and corruption and secrets and betrayals-- let's now bring those fiends to light, shall we?
activity: now that finals are over, I'll be on every day or every other day. I'm usually always ghosting, and notifs link directly to my email, so while I may not be 100% active, I can always be ready to pop in when needed.
roleplay sample: (view spoiler)[
Matthew prided himself on two things, and two things only: 1) his impeccable self-control, and 2) his even more immpeccable quality of work, no matter what the circumstance. But then.... as Troy started talking about Gabe, his hypothetical butterfly chasing tendences (what the actual fuck), and for fuck's sake, cuddling (again, what. the. actual. fuck.), Matthew's usually impervious self-control began to wane, until-

"If we're trading advice here," Matthew replied, his voice dripping with icy sarcasm and an omen of death, "Trust me, shutting up is good. Do it regularly, and I might stop imagining ripping out your larynx with the Bowie knife at the side of my hip and gouging your eyes out with the handle whenever you open your mouth." Matthew's face maintained the same apathetic, deadpan expression the entire time, as he used Troy's framework of words against him with terrifying precision.

"If you're ever going to admit that you want your tongue to be skewered out from your mouth and nailed to the barrack wall like some goddamn certificate, I'm your bro."

Most people wouldn't put it past Matthew to perform any of the acts he had laid out on the table, words fired like warning shots, a get in my way and soon you'll be buried six feet under undertone which hummed loudly underneath the sarcasm and the cocked head.

No one messed with Matthew Johnston. Well, no. No one sane messed with Matthew Johnston. Even Gabriel knew that unless he wanted to be skinned, pickled, and sold on Ebay as post-modern wall art, when Matthew's body wound into itself as if he were a beast and not a human, Gabe was to shut up, cross all his fingers, and pray to all the gods above for mercy. But Troy, Troy was the anomaly. Was the boy insane? Or was he just plain stupid? Matthew had yet to find out. And for the record, he didn't want to find out.

53 hours, 30 minutes. Leave the fuckboy and get some sleep, he told himself. But perhaps it was that same irrationality which negated Matthew's self-control which also kept his feet from moving in the other direction, for Matthew refused to budge, determined to see the other boy falter before collapsing onto his bunk. (hide spoiler)]

[sucre'd fiend, born sinner]

...why y'all gotta be so good?