Detailed Roleplayers discussion
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TheCountess x Isis #2
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Isis
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Nov 09, 2014 01:58AM
Alright, here's our MxM.
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Haha. Drama, right? I was googling, and I saw one about harbouring a fugitive, then I thought, hey, I like action, guys like action, do you like action?
haha...guns and stuff... Any ideas about the plot?
Hmmmm, lets see here...well there's going to be a fugitive obviously. Do you want a couple to be harboring the fugitive or do you want the fugitive to become a part of a relationship with whomever is harboring him? Should he be an illegal in some country? Should it be during war time of some kind?
Fugitive to become part of a relationship. but the harbourer is more like a victim. And then maybe a war, maybe a spy...
yeah, that sounds doable. whom do you want to be? And should they be closeted or out?
Or should they just want warm bodies and then things develop.
Damn, I have so many ideas at 5.12 in the morning.
I want to hear all of them O_O Your ideas will depends on who I would really prefer, but honestly I'll play anyone. I think maybe they should both be more or less out, but not to each other, and then warm bodies and whatnot.
Ooh...I see that. I wanted to be the victim/harbourer but I don't know. Maybe the fugitive as well. Sigh...Oh, that were the extent of my ideas. Haha. How about you lay down some of yours.
Well if you want to be the victim I will so be the fugitive. I could use the challenge. Alright, soooo, war time. Is the fugitive the spy? Is the harborer just a citizen, or a person of the opposite side, or a spy himself, or ?
I thought about the harborer being a spy but he doesn't tell the fugitive. the fugitive is definitely a spy. So the fugitive enters maybe the wrong house, the harbourer sees his opportunity to get info by playing innocent and then maybe finds out his employer/country/government is corrupt...?
Done and done. What time period/countries/war?
You can decide about that, though don't expect anything fancy from me. haha. I'll use 21st century lingua if I have to. :p
maybe some time where it makes sense for black people to...participate.
Should we just make up a war? I think that would be the best since history is the one subject I have never over achieved in...
Haha. History was a mean bitch. Also, we learned different histories so ...Made up war! Yay!
Ah yes, I keep forgetting. Alright, random countries we know nothing about sound good? You pick one and I'll pick another.
Or made up countries we know nothing about...? Or instead of making it something so big, we can just make it like CIA vs MI6 but then it's made up government agencies.
Whatever works haha. As long as it's something I don't have to actually research and know about...
I like that lazy approach too my friend. Hehe.
Alright...well, I'll do mine in the morning.
||Here we go, it's choppy but I hope it works as a draft.||Name: Nathaniel King
Age: 23 years
Personality: Nathaniel is generally a quiet, analytical person. He is one of those people who thinks too much and always thinks before he does something. This is both a weakness and strength with him. He can sometimes come off as lazy but that’s him just being laid back. He doesn’t like mornings and he doesn’t trust people easily. He is bisexual but only admits it when people ask him. Otherwise, you wouldn’t know.
Bio/History: Nathaniel's father was a spy and he followed in his footsteps mostly because he was trying to find the person who murdered his father. Basically, he grew up in his grandmother’s house. He doesn’t know his mother. He didn’t get high scores on the field test, so he was put on the desk. His analytical skills helped him and he was raised to a sleeper agent, monitoring spy movements in his country and sending back data to home base of any threats. He poses as a literature teacher at the nearby high school for after school sessions, so basically he sleeps all day and monitors all night.
Appearance:
Name: Karson Williams Age: 25
Appearance:
Personality: Karson is the perfect mix between brain and muscle. He tends to think fast, rather than very deep. He responds physically before anything else. He doesn't believe that violence solves problems entirely, but he knows for a fact that it can put them on hold. He's generally a merciless and emotionless excuse for a human being, but he has a soft side somewhere incredibly deep down. He's gay and open about it if asked, but it doesn't matter because he's not the type of guy who has time for a relationship, let alone a lover. His days for that ended when he took on his job.
History: Karson is a field spy and the man usually called upon when someone needs to be...taken care of. He knows every inch of the world behind the scenes and he can make sure that someone is never found again. He spent most of his life training for this as his parents died when he was young and he fell into an interesting situation with an uncle. His uncle did raise him, but Karson found out some very interesting things about the man, including that his parents were killed because of him. Karson's personal first kill and the reason why he is what he is, was his uncle.
Yay...So as your punishment, you get to start...hehe.
Nooooooooo!!! *dramatically falls to the floor*
Karson could hear them gaining ground behind him, but more than that he could hear his own panting in his ears. He was loosing steam, and fast. He was bleeding, he could feel it running down his calf and into his sock. He couldn't run much longer. He needed to find somewhere to hide before they really did some damage and he ended up another head on their wall. He simply couldn't allow that. He ducked into another alley, probably the million alley since they had started this little game of cat and mouse. He didn't know why he kept trying, since they always seemed to know which way he turned, but he had no other choice. There was another fence blocking the end of the alley. It was like they were all the same, so predictable. He started his climb, but he knew he was slowing down. The first fence had been a breeze, and the second, and the third, but now he was bleeding and they had already been at this for twenty minutes.
At this point, he really saw no way of escape. He was either going to pass out from exhaustion or they were simply just going to catch up. They had the advantage of a good night's sleep and no bullet wound to the leg. He had only been grazed, in reality, but it still burnt like hell and there was still a good amount of blood. It was going to take a miracle to get out of this one.
Nathaniel needed a miracle and that miracle was a cup of hot coffee. He had just gotten done with his literature class. They had been particularly difficult today, arguing about a theme that was not even present in the story they were reading. These adults who were all convinced they were writers in the making were beginning to get on his nerves. He would have preferred to teach statistics.He pressed the button at his rear view mirror that opened his garage door and consequently his back door. It was a relative okay neighbourhood. A few robberies here and there but relatively good. The foot traffic was not too bad and his neighbours were sociable, though he didn't socialize. His life was mainly fake job, which was turning into a real job, at the school and real job at home analysing static for any traitors or uninvited, the National Agency of Information, also known as NAI, was getting on his nerves was very vigilant about the uninvited. So he had no time for socializing.
He sighed and got out of his car, picked up his briefcase. He stopped suddenly when he heard something like a metal rattling, the kind on fences. He could pinpoint the location. He had always been horrible at that. He figured it was just a cat or a boy playing with a ball. He shrugged and headed for his back door leading from his garage to the inside of the house. He fiddled with his key as the garage door made its slow decent.
As soon as Karson made it over the side of the fence, he saw his miracle. It was in the shape of a closing garage door, but beggars never could be choosers. He had just enough time, so, he took of running as fast as his drained body would allow. At the very last second he tucked, rolled, and slid under the garage door. He heard the soft slam onto the floor but there was no time for relief or rest. He hopped straight to his feet, pulling the gun on his hip from his holster. He had seen the man in the garage, fumbling with his keys, but he had had no other choice. He pointed the gun at this man now. "Be quiet. If you so much as open your mouth, I'm going to shoot you straight through your head and no one will even hear it. Got that." He cold hear their footsteps running past the garage now and then they were moving further down the street. He didn't take his eyes off of the man.
"I'm sorry," he said, "But I'm going to need you to let me inside to use your phone sir. If those men out there catch me they'll kill me. If I'm dead there's a chance the country will collapse. Don't ask questions. Your phone sir, please?" He looked sternly at the man, hoping his own appearance wasn't having too much an affect. He was sweating heavily, covered in dirt, and he wore ripped clothing, the back of one pant leg especially torn apart, not to mention stained by his blood.
Nathaniel's heart pumped against his chest. The last thing he had expected when he got home was someone threatening him. The stray cat that usually entered his house during night time and slept on his couch, maybe but not a stray man, talking about saving the country and being killed. He swallowed. He knew what to do in this situation. The gun was in his briefcase but he did a quick calculation and decided that maybe pulling it out was not the best idea for the situation. The man would probably have him dead before Nathaniel had it out and even if he did get it before he was shot at, he wasn't that great at hitting targets. He was guaranteed to lose either way.
Nathaniel gulped. He fumbled with the keys again and finally got his door open. He didn't have any other options but to follow instructions. His hand was shaking slightly but he tried to mask that by forcing it still. As he pushed his door open, he thought and found it ironic that the weird man in his house had actually said please for something he was demanding. He didn't know whether to turn and say welcome. He hadn't actually even gotten a good look at the man. He turned then to get confirmation that that was what was happening and immediately noticed the sweat, dirt and ripped clothing before anything else. Then the blood. He tried not to looked to shocked. He turned back to the house and took a step in, welcomed by the meow of his uninvited cat. He felt sorry for the both of them.
"Any kind of wet cloth would also be greatly appreciated. I'm afraid I was injured." Karson told the man, following at a safe distance from the man. He felt bad for doing what he was doing, but he had no choice. He really didn't want to put an innocent man in danger, but he also couldn't risk his own life at this point. So, he trained the gun on the man, ready for anything. Sometimes the innocent ones turned out to be the most dangerous, so he was prepared for any sudden movements. As they walked further into the house Karson made inventory of everything he saw, including a shabby looking cat. Either this guy wasn't a fan of taking care of his pet, or he had two uninvited guests. Interesting. Most importantly though, he made a note of the exits so that he could escape at the first sign of this man trying to make a move. His eyes managed to do all of this without moving off of the man. It was this kind of situation when he did his best work. The pressure was high and the tension was almost physical in the room.
Nathaniel walked into his house, down the hall to the front door. He threw his briefcase on the table by his front door and his keys as if this were any routine day and there wasn't some psychopath pointing a gun at his head. He went into the kitchen and picked up the cat's bowl from the ground. The cat quickly came inside, rubbing his body on his visitors leg and running over to Nathaniel. He sighed and crouched again, rubbing the cat's head. "hiya Cocktail (view spoiler)," he said to the cat. "I just have to help this man then I'll get to your water." he said gently and then stood up.
He opened a drawer and removed one of his darker dish cloths. If this man was going to stain his cloths then it wasn't going to be a good one. He wet the cloth and turned to the man, handing it to him. He bit his lip and removed the phone from his pocket. "I don't have a house phone." he said holding out the phone to the man, trying to keep calm and not do anything irrational. He glanced out the kitchen. He could bolt through the front door. He could. Just grab Cocktail and sprint out of there like his life depended on it, which it did, but he had to wait for the right time. And that was not now because the man was blocking his only exit from the kitchen.
"I'm really not here to harm you, sir," Karter said after the phone was handed to him. "I will be out of here as soon as I can have help dispatched my way. I'm in a dangerous situation and I just needed an escape. I apologize that it had to be your home." He felt he owed the man an explanation for what was going on, but he knew he couldn't give details. He just needed to make his call and then get out of there, so, with the gun still very much pointing at the man, he made the call. There was no response. No response meant that the system was shut down. He was really in trouble. "Fuck," he mumbled, flipping the phone closed. He threw it off the side, causing it to land on the couch. He wanted the phone out of the way but he was not going to break it for the poor man. "I'll leave when I can. Right now. I need to dress my wound. You may give your cat water but if you so much as make a single move at me or toward the exit, you die. Understood. I'll kill Cocktail here too, if it's necessary."
He took the rag now and put one leg up on a bar stool. He switched his gun to the other hand. Of course, his training had demanded that he know how to use both hands perfectly. With his free hand he wiped at the gash on his leg. It was worse than he thought, but much better than it could have been. He could have a bullet straight through his knee and he had just gotten lucky that he turned his leg in time to just have a graze wound. Then, he remembered something. He set the rag back down and reached into his pocket.
He pulled out his badge and flashed it at the man. "I'm from a government agency and I really do not want to have to hurt you, but I will if necessary. Just remain calm."
Nathaniel got some water from the tap and set it down for Cocktail. He didn't know whether this man was serious about how he was talking. Who pointed a gun at someone and then apologised for pointing a gun at them. He stood up shakily. Even though he carried a gun with him everywhere, he really didn't like guns. He was an indoor person, the kind that liked statistics. Here was his polar opposite, brute, rough and wiping at his blood like it was water from a tap, like nothing fazed him.Seeing the blood, Nathaniel's eyes widened and he swallowed. He looked up at the man as he spoke. "What did Cocktail ever do to you?" Nathaniel asked standing in front of the cat who had barely acknowledged the man's presence and was slurping at his water hungrily. When the man pulled out his badge, Nathaniel sneered. He did it more so because now he had confirmed that the man was an enemy and that he couldn't very well act as an agent or the man would surely kill him. He decided to play innocent school teacher. "I'm supposed to believe you're some hot shot agent because you have a badge? That could be fake for all I know." he said trying to sound brave and failing.
He looked at the barrel of the gun. A glock, but he had put a silencer. Like he promised, if Nathaniel moved, he would go down without any noise. "I'm guessing your fictional government as decided to god dark...I mean, that's what they say in the movies right? Go dark. Does that mean, you get out of my house?" he said realising he was talking a lot, rambling probably because his heart was thumping against his chest and he was sweating beneath his collar.
||By the way, I'm changing my characters pic...again...hehe...work in progress||
((You do so enjoy changing their pictures haha...and interracial couples.))"Nothing. The cat did nothing to me and you did nothing to me, but this is more important than that cat, or you, or me. I have to get this information somewhere and I don't know where without my people. Something's wrong. I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to bring this into your life but it's too late. Everything happens for a reason, so don't give me a reason to shoot you." He said this all casually, like it meant nothing to him, because it didn't. He continued to wipe at the blood until it was at least gone from the area around the gash.
"May I have some kind of alcohol or cleaner to put on this?" he asked after a moment. "If this gets infected I'm looking at gangrene. They don't use the best of supplies." His side was weak, he could admit that, but they did have money behind them and they could get stronger. He was sure he was on the right side, especially after today's encounter. It hadn't even really meant to be a spy mission, but what he saw had changed the entire nature of the situation. There were many people in danger and he had to at least try something.
He ignored all talk about the agency that this man was making. He didn't have to explain himself any more than he already had. He had no obligation to even do that much, he had just been feeling like a nice guy. Now, not so much.
||Haha. I try to always play black characters because I'm black. As for their pictures, well, it's because I wasn't feeling the other guy in his role. I like this one better. Hehe.||"Oh, have we become a pharmacy then?" he asked turning away. "Maybe if you didn't point that thing in my face so much, I'd be inclined to believe everything you're saying." He turned back remembering the medical kit was in the living room and not the kitchen. He held up his hands. "Don't shoot you maniac, I just want to get to the living room." he said. He held up his hands and slid past the man, glancing at Cocktail for a second, then went to the living room.
Bending in front of a cabinet, he took out a medical kit and then walked back, right up to the guy, the barrel of the gun practically in his face and he gulped. He held out the first aid kit and sneered. "Would you like to put the gun down and treat yourself or am I now being forced to play doctor?" he asked in a sarcastic tone, staring at the man but also painfully aware of the gun in his face.
((Me too, he looks softer. I'm white so I play white characters...I get it completely.))Karson immediately turned and followed the man with the gun, until he came back and got right next to the barrel. He didn't like this guy's tone, and before he knew what he was doing a growl escaped from his throat. He threw his elbow and hit the man in the face, sending him flying back onto the couch. He put the gun up against the man's foot."All I'm asking is for you to shut the hell up and work with me here. Is that so hard? People are in danger and I'm not about to let you get in the way. Now, you can either be on my side or you can be dead. Choose. Now." He moved the gun so it was pointed at the man's crotch. That was generally the best way to get to a man.
"I need a place to stay and I need to get myself back up to par before I can leave here. They're going to be looking for me. If you so much as call one person, you die. I'm asking for a little help myself so that I can help many more. Ok? I can give you all my Goddamn credentials if you want, but it's not going to change anything. I need your help," Karson was doing his best to keep his voice down, but he was getting mad and desperate, a terrible combination.
||Haha...softer...All I know is that he's hot and heck yeah, I like interracial couples. Power to the people. Sorry it took long, my internet was acting like a little bitch.||Nathaniel gasped as the man's elbow made contact with his nose. He fell hard onto the couch panting helplessly and holding onto his face. He knew the man was some sort of agent but he hadn't predicted the rapid escalation to violence. He glared at him now as he spoke trying to prove to Nate that he was a good guy and that he was going to 'save the world' but Nate was not buying any of it. As far as he knew, he was the enemy but now he was going to be cautious. He wasn't going to try and be brave any more. Physically he was no match for the man, but mentally probably. He could try and get some information from him.
Also, he just wanted to save his balls.
Nathaniel nodded. Now, apparently, he was a kidnap victim, harbouring a fugitve. Not to mention he had two jobs and a stray cat. He couldn't work with the 'no call' rule. He had to check in with his superiors at least once a week. As for his job... "What about my job? I teach literature at a school. They are going to wonder where I've gone off to. Someone might come looking for me." he said. Nobody would come looking for him, at least not from the school. His students would kill for a day off and probably wouldn't report him. He held onto his nose. "I need to wash my face. My nose is bleeding." he said in a small voice wondering if sympathy was a word that this man knew.
((Tell your internet that I'm going to smack it upside the head if it doesn't behave.))"Wah," Karson rolled his eyes, "Let me know when you've been shot. Then, we can talk about bleeding." He wasn't referring to his leg wound, that was hardly anything to worry about, he was referring to the three other times he had been shot. Once in the shoulder, once just above the hip, and once straight in the chest. He had gotten lucky each time and he knew it. And then there was this guy who was whining about a bloody nose. For how big the man was, he sure didn't have the physical skills necessary to make a move on Karson for sure, let alone the endurance it would take. He holstered his gun.
"Fine. Go wash off your face. As for your job, you can still go. I don't know why you would want to, but you can. However, if anyone shows up here for me, they're going to die. Police officers, another agency, a neighbor with a gun, anyone...they die. They will die and their blood will be on your hands. Further, I will hunt you down. I won't kill you, not at first anyway. Lets just say we'll start by putting one of your testicles down your throat, and the other up your ass." He paused. "If, however, you participate and no harm comes to me or anyone else, I will make sure you are paid handsomely for this. I'm really not meaning to make your life hell..." He wasn't a man who felt guilt, but he knew when he was doing something morally wrong, and that bothered him slightly.
||Haha...now you want my internet to completely slither away in fear...?||Nathaniel sneered at the man as he boasted about being shot. Nathaniel made a point to avoid bullets as much as he could when he loaded his gun, the one and only time, his hands had been shaking so much it had been shameful but now, he wondered, with this man here if he was going to have to man up and just use his gun for the first time. He gulped. Even just the thought, imagining the sound scared him.
He stood up looking at the man, holding onto his nose. "Blood is blood, don't mock me just because I'm not in the same line of work as you." he said. He didn't want to add the fact that it made him queasy and he would faint any second now with how much of it was flying all around the room. "And as for my job, why wouldn't I go? It's my livelihood. Just because there's a crazed gunman pointing a weapon in my face and that of an innocent cat, doesn't mean I shouldn't work but if you're going to shoot that many people if they so much as step on my doorstep, then I'll just call in sick. I don't want your money." he said.
He walked into the bathroom, breathing through his mouth. He didn't look in the mirror. He washed his face and splashed and splashed until he was sure it was all gone then he took the hand towel and pressed that into his face. He walked out of the bathroom. "Is it gone? The blood? Is it gone? You have to check it for me." he felt silly asking this stranger to help him but he felt as if it was the only way he could be sure. His fear was crippling. If he had been alone, he wouldn't have been standing. Then again he wouldn't have been bleeding either.
((No...I need your internet...))Karson was utterly shocked when the man came back to him in a panic asking if all of the blood was gone. He couldn't be serious. Well, at least he knew the guy wouldn't be killing him in his sleep if he couldn't stand blood. "Yeah, it's gone," Karson said with a sudden laugh. "It was barely bleeding in the first place. Calm down. Blood isn't going to hurt you unless you drink it from someone else."
He shook his head and sighed. This guy was a mess. No wonder he only taught literature. He looked like he could do some damage to a person, but his personality said otherwise. Maybe he was a genius, Karson sure as hell didn't know, but that would be the only thing going for the guy except for his looks. He shook his head a second time. "You should probably feed your cat," he said after a bit. The creature was moving all about through his legs and it was starting to get on his nerves. He had never really had time for animals.
