Your name: My username is Kizzy42. Most call me Kizzy. I believe that would be fine for this.
How long have you been rping: 3 or 4 years
What sites have you rped on: ChickenSmoothie, and other private RP's and sites.
What type of rp do you consider to be your specialty: I think that animal or fantasy roleplays are my specialty. I also have a background of writing and believe that each piece you write should be an accurate mirror image of yourself in one way or another.
How many words do you usually post: I post between 500 on a really bad day and probably the upward of 1500 on a good day.
How often are you on CS: Everyday.
How long are you online: (Guestimated number of hours)
Time zone you are in (BST): Northeastern US. Somewhere around Boston and New York Time.
Sample rp: This is one of my personal favorites. It shows the proper use of quotations and description. It is 554 words.
The sun glinted dimly in the east just as Dawn started setting up for a day of long and tiresome work. She slowly turned the sign in the front window of the store from closed to open and began to prepare for another day at the spice shop. She turned to her assistant in the shop, Nutmeg, "Oh Nutmeg, I will never understand why those horrid publishers down in the market will never give me the time of day." She said a hint of irritation in her tone. Nutmeg, while rummaging through a packet of cayenne replied without looking up, "Oh, you know how they are m'am." Letting out a small sneeze when he opened a bag of old thyme. "Oh, m'am, er... Miss Dawn this thyme is a bit too strong should I throw it out?" Dawn turned to her friend, eyes going to the bag. "Of course Nutmeg! Why, at my shop, home to some of the finest spices, I would never keep rank goods!" she scoffed. Dawn took a deep breath and ruffled her tail, continuing to count the amount of cinnamon sticks she had put in a barrel a few days prior.
Nutmeg glanced back to her, parting his lips to speak once again after a pause, "So, Miss Dawn how are the little ones at home, all is well?" Obviously trying to change the touchy subject. A look of sadness and relief spread through her features, "Yes and no, Nutmeg. Little Sun has decided he wants to change his name and run off with the royals even though we all know you must either be born into the royal family or marry into it. And dear little Twilight always wants to know what mother was like. If she looked like us or the way dad used to write about her in his journal. Always things like 'Her fur like the brightest silk...'" she paused with a small smile, "Spark's the smart one, he found the journals and tried to keep them hidden from his brothers and sisters. But knowing Sun and Twilight, They soon caught on." She let out a nervous little laugh, trying to anticipate Nutmeg's next sentence. Nutmeg, though only out of mere curiosity, turned to her in question, "Yes Miss Dawn I have heard you say a lot about your father and mother. Why is it that you live on meager rations when your father was a noble guard?" he asked, brows drawn down slightly in mild confusion. Dawn smiled, though the pretty expression soon turned to a lightly scolding frown, almost as a warning to what she was going to say. "Nutmeg, Nutmeg, you know what happened. The royal judge, or so they call him a judge," Last few words tainting her voice suddenly with bitterness, "refused us the money we desperately needed." As she spoke she noticed a costumer, voice turning to one of forced cheerfulness. She walked up to the costumer with a hint of a smile, "Hello sir! What a fine day it is! May I interest you in some of our finer spices?" She asked conversationally. Behind her Nutmeg stopped listening, and with a strange feeling in his stomach he continued counting bottles of black pepper. He began humming a song of work and toil as the day slowly went on.
