Ɯɛαяʏ Ғɛɛт βʋт Ɯɛ Ɔαи'т Ƨтσρ ◊ ❍ne-on-❍ne

[111misc]

Ɯɛαяʏ Ғɛɛт βʋт Ɯɛ Ɔαи'т Ƨтσρ

A one on one role play between myself and Foxtrot55

✖✖✖

[Jericho]

Human Form:
Name- Jax Carr
Age- 17
Gender- Male
Personality- Jax is a bit aggressive. Most people call him a emo/pink/rock star/drug addict because of the way he looks. He's tall with shaggy black hair that sticks up everywhere. Black painted nail that show he has a habit of chewing on them, he wears black skinny jeans, colorful sweaters, skater shoes. He has a raring in one ear and a tattoo of a black panther running over one of his shoulder blades. His black hair has the tips dyed a bright blue like his eyes that always seem to look deep into you, they are cold and hard, like someone who has seen much pain.
History- ask him!
Family- none and doesn't want parents as he hates people telling him what to do.
Crush- none yet.

(look good?)

[111misc]

{I've gotta go for the night, but I'll post my form tomorrow afternoon. We can get started then ^^}

[Jericho]

(sounds good!)

[111misc]

[size=85]
xox

Name: Nikita Lucille Rose
Goes by: Nikita, or Niki, or Kita, at times
Looks: Nikita's built long legged and slim, made doubly so by the lack of quality in the food she's eaten her whole life. She has a average bust, and a slim waist and large hips. Her skin is pale as ivory, and her hair as dark and thick as wet soil. It curls in waves down to the middle of her back, and she keeps it in a braid or bun often. Nikita's eyes are a beautiful lilac, something of a mix between violet and vivid blue, like this.
Personality: Nikita's the mysterious girl; aloof, watchful, quiet. Not shy, though. There is a difference, after all. Shy is when you are afraid, and Nikita's not afraid. She never had a great life, and fear was the one thing she hated most of all about it. Of course, with this retracted personality, her loyalty and friendship really means a lot. Nikita has depth, and knows the difference from right and wrong, stupidity and bravery, etc. Those she trusts, she trusts with her life, and if someone she cared about broke that trust, they would never see her again. On a brighter note, Nikita isn't all skulls and shadows. She's got a happy side, too. If you understand her humor, which happens to be insanely sarcastic and dead-pan, along with the more than occasional bad joke, she'll never stop laughing, and her smile brightens up her entire face. You don't always know what's boiling under the surface with Nikita, and darkness breeds darkness. After being around darkness so long, despite her affluence with light, sometimes it's enough to make her heart dark.
History: Will role play out, but she's lived at the orphanage her whole life

[Jericho]

(Ready to start?)

[111misc]

{Yea!}


{Normally I'd post a nice header, but it's just a one on one, so I hope you don't mind. }


Nikita was standing outside, in the grey outdoors area of the orphanage. There was only one tree, and it was gnarled and nasty looking, with rotten grey-brown wood. Other kids, from a long time ago, and yesterday, had carved their initials into it, or their name and another's surrounded by a heart, so many times, they crisscrossed and overlapped, and you couldn't read any of it. The grass was scratchy and short, with bald patches all over where mud and dirt were the only plant life. A creaking swing set and jungle gym were the only clues as to who was supposed to be kept in this dreary area, and little kids were crawling all over it, like ants. From seven years old to seventeen, orphans were lounging around, dying from the sobering truth in their lives.
Nikita blended right in with the others, wearing a faded sweatshirt and jean shorts and dark converse. Her brown, almost black, hair tumbled in waves down her shoulders, covering part of her face a bit, so that from the side you couldn't see her frowning. She was looking around her, at the others; none of whom she knew. Being in an orphanage was like having a million older siblings who hated you, and liked to beat you up. Or like having an umpteen amount of little brothers and sisters, just out to annoy you and steal your toys. The only other orphanage within the next two cities had just closed down, because basically it sucked worse than this one--which Nikita found hard to believe--and all the poor souls had been transfered here, just a week ago. Already she hated them. Her pillow had been stolen the second night they all came, and a girl in her room snored like the devil.
Nikita sighed, eyeing the others. It's not like she'd ever thought of the orphanage as her home, not even close, more like a prison, really. But at least it had been a spacious prison. Now she felt crowded, almost like she could hardly breathe. There were really only a handful of kids still here she knew.

[Jericho]

Two cops dragged a tall almost skinny guy into the orphanages main desk, shoving him down into the hard wooden chair. "Jax Carr to see Mrs. Larue?" one asked the old lady sitting behind the protection of the desk. "Yes just one moment." she replied sounding like a old rocking chair as she wheezed out the few word she spoke before heading to another room. She returned a minute later with a younger but still old woman, Jax snarled guessing this was 'Old Larue' who he had heard of from the police station. He shot a hand through his thick black hair then aimlessly began chewing on his black painted nails. Tge woman slumped loudly in the chair and looked Jax and the cops over before speaking. "How may I help you?" she asked and Jax held in a laugh, her voice sounded like a toad. The cops spoke with her a few minutes but Jax didn't hear what they were saying other than his name being said every few seconds, he was too focus on the Kids through the small window. They looked like scarecrows who had seen too many storms, dull, grey, skinny. Nothing much too look at compared to his brightly colored sweater and blue tipped hair. They were so plain, but interesting at the same time... Finally the cops signed a paper and left, without him... Apparently they had just signed him into the custody of this dump. Fun.

[111misc]

Nikita's eyes were caught by a bright blur of color through the window, something she didn't often see in this faded place, full of faded people, faded dreams, and years, all faded away. She turned towards the boy directly, curious, dark hair falling over her shoulders in dark, loose waves. He had black hair, tipped blue, and pale skin. Great. Just another waste of space to clog up the toilet and eat the food, she figured sardonically, violet eyes, like lilac, shimmering in the dull sunlight. Her stomach growled again, and like the other times, she ignored it. The food here was disgusting, and not even that plentiful even if you did enjoy it. It really wasn't worth eating too often. As a result, her waist was thin, almost emaciated looking, and under her shirt, you could feel the outline of a rib or two.
"I'm next," She said as she walked over to a group of kids, a little younger than her, playing four square. She'd grown tired of studying the fresh meat, the older guys would beat him up before long, and she didn't want to be associated with him, at all. After a couple minutes in a line, Nikita got into the first square, concentrating on that, hitting the ball, not letting it bounce more than once--something to focus on, at least. She got out sooner than she'd have liked; she was never a big team-sport player. She'd just never had any practice, was all, and even if she had, she didn't really have anyone to play with. Not anyone she'd like to. Nikita didn't even know the names of those kids she was playing with, and she'd probably been in the same orphanage as them for, what, six months?

[Jericho]

Jax Carr:


Jax was told to stand and head just out the doorway to his right to get more information filled out.....they lied. As the door closed behind him so did the lock, locking him in this place. He swung around banging on the door loudly with a fist "Hey, You can't do that!" he yelled before glaring at it, anger in his eyes. Finally he glanced around at the area he was in, dull like the rest of the place, with worn down kids and teens, dead, dead, dead. Nothing living unlike his past life....full of running from cops, pick pockets, druggies, punks, and more.....dead was the only word he could think to describe it! He wandered around the edge of the building looking for some small corner to hang out in. Nothing. Just dull grey walls. Jax cursed to himself, this place was different, no way to escape no where to hide and nothing to do! He glanced at a girl playing a game with some younger kids, something to do with a ball.... boring, so he looked away again sitting down in the farthest corner of this prison. Boring, boring, boring.... he though as his eyes scanned over the sea of people. Nothing. No people like him, all just dead.