Post by Rain on Jul 6, 2009 23:16:43 GMT -5
Name: Morgan
Age: 16
Experience: Been role-playing for three years XD
How you found us: My friend of twelve years, Tsubasa, led me here. Also, I'm friends with Yuki.
Role play Sample: She stepped into the dusty hallway, forgetting to raise her foot high enough and tripping on the little step in the doorway. Damn that step. She'd been tripping over it ever since she learned to walk, and here it was again, another obstacle she had to face. She glared behind her at it before proceeding down the wood-paneled hallway with slow, cautious steps. The floorboards creaked beneath her, causing her to freeze. Again, the floorboards in this old house had creaked ever since she was a small child, but they never stopped frightening her, especially in the dead of night. She tried to brush it off, ignoring the fact that her body trembled slightly. She was twelve years old, for the love of God. She needed to stop being so jumpy.
As she edged closer to the end of the hall, she moved more into the dark, leaving the dim light behind her. She hadn't ventured into this room for six years--and for good reason. Her quivering became more pronounced as she edged near enough to the door to make out the simple pattern in the wood, and her inner child was ready to flee for the hills. She ignored it with all her might, although she still feared she would see the same thing she'd seen before. But she had to know. She had to know if it was true, or if it really had been a nightmare, as her mother had assured her. Before the breast cancer had taken her away, anyway.
Her finger came into contact with the handle, and she snatched it back. It was freezing, even though it was mid July. With less certainty this time, she grasped the handle, but she didn't turn it. She was a coward. She was going to turn around and go back into her bedroom, kept up by possibilities and what ifs, just as she had every other night this summer. That was the problem. This wasn't her house. It belonged to her aunt and uncle, and she only visited them once every summer. Perhaps if she slept here each night, had this house to come home to every day after school, she would be used to it, accustomed enough to it to be able to brave the room at the end of the hall.
No. This wouldn't be like other nights. She would walk in for a little inspection, just to make sure her eyes had been playing tricks on her six years ago. Her heart beat against her undeveloped chest, thumping as if meaning to escape. Then, shoving any terrifying thought from her mind with massive effort, she turned the handle and entered the room.
It was covered in dust from top to bottom and unfurnished as it had always been. In fact, it was the same as she remembered it. It appeared as if no one had entered since--well, since the time she'd been here six years ago. If she turned her head, and if she was right, she would be able to see what she saw before. Berating herself for ever entering the room in the first place, her head turned to face the corner. Her stomach dropped through the floor.
It was there, and it was still clutching the porcelain doll. The rotting corpse sat on the rocking chair, grasping the doll by the arm, smiling as it stared into nothing. Its flesh hung off its arms like drapery, and its feet--if you could call them feet anymore--were shriveled, mutilated. It was bleeding from the mouth, which still grinned in that sadistic way. It rocked the rocking chair back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
She bolted from the room, slamming the door behind her, and didn't stop running until she was upstairs and in the guest room, where she was sleeping. She buried her face into her pillow before the sobbing commenced. The corpse looked the same as it had before, when by now it should have been nothing more than a skeleton. But its flesh was still there, and it still bled from the mouth. And oh, it was still sitting in the rocking chair, rocking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...
He said: whisp is amazing. <3
Age: 16
Experience: Been role-playing for three years XD
How you found us: My friend of twelve years, Tsubasa, led me here. Also, I'm friends with Yuki.
Role play Sample: She stepped into the dusty hallway, forgetting to raise her foot high enough and tripping on the little step in the doorway. Damn that step. She'd been tripping over it ever since she learned to walk, and here it was again, another obstacle she had to face. She glared behind her at it before proceeding down the wood-paneled hallway with slow, cautious steps. The floorboards creaked beneath her, causing her to freeze. Again, the floorboards in this old house had creaked ever since she was a small child, but they never stopped frightening her, especially in the dead of night. She tried to brush it off, ignoring the fact that her body trembled slightly. She was twelve years old, for the love of God. She needed to stop being so jumpy.
As she edged closer to the end of the hall, she moved more into the dark, leaving the dim light behind her. She hadn't ventured into this room for six years--and for good reason. Her quivering became more pronounced as she edged near enough to the door to make out the simple pattern in the wood, and her inner child was ready to flee for the hills. She ignored it with all her might, although she still feared she would see the same thing she'd seen before. But she had to know. She had to know if it was true, or if it really had been a nightmare, as her mother had assured her. Before the breast cancer had taken her away, anyway.
Her finger came into contact with the handle, and she snatched it back. It was freezing, even though it was mid July. With less certainty this time, she grasped the handle, but she didn't turn it. She was a coward. She was going to turn around and go back into her bedroom, kept up by possibilities and what ifs, just as she had every other night this summer. That was the problem. This wasn't her house. It belonged to her aunt and uncle, and she only visited them once every summer. Perhaps if she slept here each night, had this house to come home to every day after school, she would be used to it, accustomed enough to it to be able to brave the room at the end of the hall.
No. This wouldn't be like other nights. She would walk in for a little inspection, just to make sure her eyes had been playing tricks on her six years ago. Her heart beat against her undeveloped chest, thumping as if meaning to escape. Then, shoving any terrifying thought from her mind with massive effort, she turned the handle and entered the room.
It was covered in dust from top to bottom and unfurnished as it had always been. In fact, it was the same as she remembered it. It appeared as if no one had entered since--well, since the time she'd been here six years ago. If she turned her head, and if she was right, she would be able to see what she saw before. Berating herself for ever entering the room in the first place, her head turned to face the corner. Her stomach dropped through the floor.
It was there, and it was still clutching the porcelain doll. The rotting corpse sat on the rocking chair, grasping the doll by the arm, smiling as it stared into nothing. Its flesh hung off its arms like drapery, and its feet--if you could call them feet anymore--were shriveled, mutilated. It was bleeding from the mouth, which still grinned in that sadistic way. It rocked the rocking chair back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
She bolted from the room, slamming the door behind her, and didn't stop running until she was upstairs and in the guest room, where she was sleeping. She buried her face into her pillow before the sobbing commenced. The corpse looked the same as it had before, when by now it should have been nothing more than a skeleton. But its flesh was still there, and it still bled from the mouth. And oh, it was still sitting in the rocking chair, rocking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...
He said: whisp is amazing. <3
