𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 || 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 (6/12 spots)

[Sojourner's Fray]

the cold comes first; bone-chilling, mind-numb
ing, injecting itself into your veins and lacing
them with creeping tendrils of ice. almost to
o cold to be true, yet all too real. then come
s the suffocating fog, and the snow, the smal
lest of flakes that are too dry to be anything
but a dream - though it's hard to tell if they'r
e actually cold, or if it's just an illusion from
the chill of your numb skin, warm enough to
feel only the pain - everywhere and nowhere
at once, because you know it shouldhurt, bu
t you're too numb for your brain to figure out
where. finally, the revelation; you're suppose
d to be on a plane in the sky, and you can't
even remember why.

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i. all cs rules apply. ii. no powerplaying/godmodding. iii. be res
pectful and adaptable. iv. strive towards correct grammar and s
pelling. no one-liners, but i'm not interested in expecting anyone
to adhere to a strict minimum word count. v. maximum 2 charac
ters per member. vi. remember the fallen. remember the fear.
roleplay thread

└────────────────────────┘

Code: Select all

[left][img]image here[/img][/left][b]Name:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Sexuality:[/b]
[b]Fear:[/b]
[b]Appearance:[/b]
[b]Current Health:[/b] remember - plane crash
[b]Personality:[/b] BRIEF
[center]───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────[/center]
in this section, write a post (of any length), featuring your character and portraying them either in the moments before they lost consciousness in the plane crash, or during a different pivotal moment of their life. this should serve as a post sample application, and should introduce your character in terms of personality and potentially history.

*feel free to reformat, but try to maintain the general information structure

[Sojourner's Fray]

res.

[Euthymios]

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༺𝔗𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔫𝔰
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name harumi almorenda
nickname ru (rue)
age nineteen
ethnicity asian - american
gender female
fear darkness

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─────────────𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄

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𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋─────
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（ － ＴＨＥ ＦＬＯＷＥＲ ）

[Sojourner's Fray]

┌────────────────────────────────┐

𝙵 𝙴 𝙰 𝚁---𝚃 𝙷 𝙴---𝙵 𝙻 𝙰 𝙼 𝙴 𝚂
└────────────────────────────────┘

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----⧉ Name || Kaman ("kaw-min") Idris Falker
----⧉ Gender || Male
----⧉ Age || 25 (April 2nd)
----⧉ Sexuality || Bisexual (male preference)
----⧉ Health || Mild concussion, second-degree burns up his left arm
----⧉ Appearance || Chinese-Canadian; dull, rose-tinted skin; soft
----black hair; dark brown eyes; slim, pointed face, sharp angles but
----duller features; 5'8"; average build, stronger than he looks
----⧉ Personality || [INFJ] Kaman is an avenger, driven by loyalty
----and passion. He has a refreshing idealism, that manifests a deep-
----seated need to act as a guardian, lest his guilt over his own
----priveledge destroy him. With a casual, friendly demeanour, he's
----a bit too generous for his own good, always willing to lend a
----helping hand or a supportive shoulder to cry on.
└────────────────────────

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wordswords words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words

[Sojourner's Fray]

┌───────────────────────────────────────┐

𝙵 𝙴 𝙰 𝚁---𝚃 𝙷 𝙴---𝙳 𝚁 𝙴 𝙰 𝙼
└───────────────────────────────────────┘

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┌────────────────────────
----⧉ Name || Maeve Aquila Sarenthal
----⧉ Gender || Female
----⧉ Age || 18 (June 15th)
----⧉ Sexuality || Lesbian
----⧉ Health || Chronic insomnia; broken left arm, sprained ankle
----⧉ Appearance || British; pale caucasian skin; white-blond
----hair, loosely curly to just below her shoulders; light, grey-blue
----eyes; small, wideset facial features; 5'6"; slim, bony build
----⧉ Personality || [INFP] Maeve is a dreamer and a scholar,
----a wonderer and a wanderer with the restless soul of a
----sojourner. There's a wistful obliviousness to her demeanour
----always a bit removed from the moment in favour of day-
----dreaming and admiring the world from the safety of her mind.
----Maeve may be distant, but she's curiously warmer than most,
----in her usual philosophical manner. A discussion about utopian
----dreams or the meaning of life is never out of reach around
----Maeve, yet a warm embrace or therapeutic sesssion of poetic
----life advice is always readily as well.
└────────────────────────

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[The Evil Queen]

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━━━━━━━━
𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜
▬▬▬▬▬▬

♦ [ Name: ] Viana Dallas Jones
♦ [ Age: ] 20
♦ [ Gender: ] Female
♦ [ Sexuality: ] Homosexual
♦ [ Appearance: ] Pale skin; long, silky, jet black hair; intense, chocolate brown eyes; thin figure. 5'9"
♦ [ Current Health: ] Sprained left wrist, concussion
♦ [ Personality: ] Playful, witty, and sarcastic, Viana always has a clever retort on the tip of her tongue. She always seems to find a reason to laugh. Always ready for a good time, she isn't likely to turn down a new adventure. Rules are made to be broken and laws are simply suggestions as far as Viana is concerned. She wants to see and do everything the world has to offer, and if that means breaking a few rules, so be it.

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Viana James doesn’t fear death. It’s one possible explanation for why she’s simply observing the erupting chaos, serenely gazing from one passenger to the next. She does, however, fear not being able to live. Perhaps those fears sound identical, but to Viana, they couldn’t be further apart.

The way she sees it, people usually fall into one of two categories; those who survive, and those who live. There’s a distinct difference between the two, and that difference is the reason behind all Viana’s decisions.

Those who merely survive seem to be stuck on loop. Wake up, go to work, come home, binge watch Netflix, sleep, repeat. Viana finds the idea suffocating. After all, any moment could be her last, so why waste time? Ironically, her ideology has managed to bring her closer to death.

This isn’t her first time knocking on death’s doorstep. As it always does, her body begins to betray her, survival instincts kicking in. The rapid, rhythmic pounding of her heart drowns out the sounds of other passengers. Her stomach grows increasingly uneasy with each passing moment. Even as she fights to steady her breathing, her body trembles, urging her to do something. Fight or flight. A typical response to a situation like this, one she’d expected. Even so, she still hates every second of it. Hates the feeling of losing control, of feeling weak and powerless.

Fighting to gain control, she’s focuses in on anything but the insistent clawing at her insides. A losing battle, yet one she’s determined to win. Her eyes scan for something, anything to occupy her mind. The other passengers keep her interest for a bit before her gaze settles on the man on the seat next to hers. Momentarily watching his frantic desperation, she glances downward to the tray in front of him. A small plastic cup sits atop the tray, filled with apple juice. The raven haired girl stares at it for a moment before glancing back to the man.

“You gonna finish that?” Mustering up the slyest smile she can managed, she stares at the man. He doesn’t answer, just stares right back with a horrified expression, as if he couldn’t believe she’d just asked him that. As if she’s completely lost her mind. Viana’s now smiling with minimal effort, and that plastic cup is the last thing she sees before the world fades into black nothingness.

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