Post by Daxmilta on Aug 13, 2009 23:26:49 GMT -5
Break These Chains
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They Can't Take Our Rights
Name: Daxmilta (Daz-mill-ta)
Age: 19
Personality: Her appearance may be one of innocence, given her enormous emerald eyes, but the thoughts behind them are more twisted and damaged than you, my friend, could handle. Dax has what you would call Bi-polar disease and neither versions of her mood. She. Does. Not. Like. Anybody. And that involves Nobodies too. When someone would strike her up with a conversation she would be nice and shy, and then lure said person into a false sense of innocence where she would either kill them, torture them, or perhaps just screw with their mind to make them think she is going to kill them.
That's how she has fun.
OC: Nobody
History: Dax, like most Nobodies, has no clue who she is, she doesn't really have a memory of anything but what she does know is that she should not trust anyone that wants something from her, never go anywhere without either a gun or a very sharp sword. Dax somehow managed to not get herself killed even though right from the start of her awareness, she made several enemies. She found the new organization and quite literally didn't take no for an answer. These people seemed to have a purpose and Dax felt like she could perhaps fit in better than just roaming around committing random killings.
Face Claim: This chicka: she kinda looks like Tifa, I s'pose
Name: Daxmilta (Daz-mill-ta)
Age: 19
Personality: Her appearance may be one of innocence, given her enormous emerald eyes, but the thoughts behind them are more twisted and damaged than you, my friend, could handle. Dax has what you would call Bi-polar disease and neither versions of her mood. She. Does. Not. Like. Anybody. And that involves Nobodies too. When someone would strike her up with a conversation she would be nice and shy, and then lure said person into a false sense of innocence where she would either kill them, torture them, or perhaps just screw with their mind to make them think she is going to kill them.
That's how she has fun.
OC: Nobody
History: Dax, like most Nobodies, has no clue who she is, she doesn't really have a memory of anything but what she does know is that she should not trust anyone that wants something from her, never go anywhere without either a gun or a very sharp sword. Dax somehow managed to not get herself killed even though right from the start of her awareness, she made several enemies. She found the new organization and quite literally didn't take no for an answer. These people seemed to have a purpose and Dax felt like she could perhaps fit in better than just roaming around committing random killings.
Face Claim: This chicka: she kinda looks like Tifa, I s'pose
We will fight
Weapons: Anything she can get her hands on, really. The most she uses would be her umbrella which is actually tempered steel, the curl handle at the bottom can be removed to expose and extremely sharp tip. Other weapons would include .35 handguns with silver chambers and black grips, throwing chakram, and perhaps a knife.
Powers: She has the power of ultimate torture. It's not really a power, persay, she just sort of knows exactly what to do to torture someone into becoming crazy.
How did you find us: stalking.
Custom Title: The Sociable Sociopath
Sample RP:
The wind was just the right temperature, when you are in motion it doesn't bother you, but when you hold still it stings at your skin and reminds you of your humanity. How frail you are. How weak. How possible it was to get hurt.
A crazed smile spread across the girl's face, her eyes were bright and shone in the fading light. You might think she was smiling because the sunset had turned the sky and strange shade of orange and purple. But you'd be wrong. The girl was smiling because she would be able to shed her innocent girl routine and get to work. How long had it been since her fingers had last been to work? Six, maybe seven days? Oh, that was just far, far too long. That would absolutely never do.
The girl stood from the road bench and immediately pulled the umbrella at her side over her head to keep the surveillance cameras off of her face. That smile was still on her face as she walked down the sidewalk, her boots clicked and chipped away at the concrete and she couldn't help but hear a melody in that sound. It sounded like the end, each scrape didn't sound like that last but it somehow over powered it with a sort of....poetic inevitability. Nothing happens the same way twice. She knew that all too well. Once night was never the same as the next. One playful event never went the same, no matter what variables she kept. People were always to different.
You might say this girl was around the age of twelve, when in all actuality she was nearing twenty years of age. She kept her appearance young and innocent because people usually trusted younger children with innocent eyes then older ones with knowledge. She saw figures off in the distance of an alley so she immediately made her way in that direction with her head low, her heels clicked even louder because of her hurried pace; she was worried.
The men that were speaking suddenly went silent and her heels made even louder more frantic noises. “Hey, you! Where are you going?” One of them called out, trying to sound sober. The girl hunched her shoulders.
“S-sorry, I'm not supposed to talk to s-strangers.” The girl called out, worry and fright filled her every syllable. They were already sold. The four men circled around her and forced her to stop. She held the umbrella low over her head so they could not see her face. She could smell their excitement in the air. She wondered if they could smell her 'fear'. She slid a hand expertly into her coat pocket and with drew her aluminum disks she cut out of soda cans. They were simple and she soaked them in morphine. And now they rested in her inside pockets. She pulled out three of the smooth and deadly disks and flicked her wrist in three different directions, the first two met their destinations on the men's throats. They bled out as they fell to the ground. The third on missed his throat and imbedded into his collarbone. He fell to his knees with a groan and with one well-placed round house kick she broke his neck and he fell the rest of the way to the wet alley floor.
She turned onto the fourth who was frozen in absolute fear. She slowly pulled the umbrella down from her head and closed it, snapped the small clasp around the top of the umbrella to keep it shut and then she rested it on her shoulder with her eyes glowing straight into the last man's widened crystal orbs. She breathed him in and immediately knew what he would be getting tonight. She stepped to him, he flinched away from her but she wrapped an arm around him and swung her umbrella in an arch so it crashed into his head. The metal of the pole echoed in the alley way as he fell forward. She grabbed his limp hand and then opened a dark portal directly in front of her and walked directly into the darkness, dragging the handsome man with her. And as soon as she found hedge clippers, zip ties and a German Shepherd, her night could really begin.
Password: Lifestream
Weapons: Anything she can get her hands on, really. The most she uses would be her umbrella which is actually tempered steel, the curl handle at the bottom can be removed to expose and extremely sharp tip. Other weapons would include .35 handguns with silver chambers and black grips, throwing chakram, and perhaps a knife.
Powers: She has the power of ultimate torture. It's not really a power, persay, she just sort of knows exactly what to do to torture someone into becoming crazy.
How did you find us: stalking.
Custom Title: The Sociable Sociopath
Sample RP:
The wind was just the right temperature, when you are in motion it doesn't bother you, but when you hold still it stings at your skin and reminds you of your humanity. How frail you are. How weak. How possible it was to get hurt.
A crazed smile spread across the girl's face, her eyes were bright and shone in the fading light. You might think she was smiling because the sunset had turned the sky and strange shade of orange and purple. But you'd be wrong. The girl was smiling because she would be able to shed her innocent girl routine and get to work. How long had it been since her fingers had last been to work? Six, maybe seven days? Oh, that was just far, far too long. That would absolutely never do.
The girl stood from the road bench and immediately pulled the umbrella at her side over her head to keep the surveillance cameras off of her face. That smile was still on her face as she walked down the sidewalk, her boots clicked and chipped away at the concrete and she couldn't help but hear a melody in that sound. It sounded like the end, each scrape didn't sound like that last but it somehow over powered it with a sort of....poetic inevitability. Nothing happens the same way twice. She knew that all too well. Once night was never the same as the next. One playful event never went the same, no matter what variables she kept. People were always to different.
You might say this girl was around the age of twelve, when in all actuality she was nearing twenty years of age. She kept her appearance young and innocent because people usually trusted younger children with innocent eyes then older ones with knowledge. She saw figures off in the distance of an alley so she immediately made her way in that direction with her head low, her heels clicked even louder because of her hurried pace; she was worried.
The men that were speaking suddenly went silent and her heels made even louder more frantic noises. “Hey, you! Where are you going?” One of them called out, trying to sound sober. The girl hunched her shoulders.
“S-sorry, I'm not supposed to talk to s-strangers.” The girl called out, worry and fright filled her every syllable. They were already sold. The four men circled around her and forced her to stop. She held the umbrella low over her head so they could not see her face. She could smell their excitement in the air. She wondered if they could smell her 'fear'. She slid a hand expertly into her coat pocket and with drew her aluminum disks she cut out of soda cans. They were simple and she soaked them in morphine. And now they rested in her inside pockets. She pulled out three of the smooth and deadly disks and flicked her wrist in three different directions, the first two met their destinations on the men's throats. They bled out as they fell to the ground. The third on missed his throat and imbedded into his collarbone. He fell to his knees with a groan and with one well-placed round house kick she broke his neck and he fell the rest of the way to the wet alley floor.
She turned onto the fourth who was frozen in absolute fear. She slowly pulled the umbrella down from her head and closed it, snapped the small clasp around the top of the umbrella to keep it shut and then she rested it on her shoulder with her eyes glowing straight into the last man's widened crystal orbs. She breathed him in and immediately knew what he would be getting tonight. She stepped to him, he flinched away from her but she wrapped an arm around him and swung her umbrella in an arch so it crashed into his head. The metal of the pole echoed in the alley way as he fell forward. She grabbed his limp hand and then opened a dark portal directly in front of her and walked directly into the darkness, dragging the handsome man with her. And as soon as she found hedge clippers, zip ties and a German Shepherd, her night could really begin.
Password: Lifestream