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Think Pink

? .: To Die For :. ? [Sign-Ups]

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"Watch it burn, watch your life crumble, right before your eyes."

A co-op with Teddy Bear SuperPunk.

A co-op with Teddy Bear

 

 

[align=right]S t o r y

 

Your life is quite perfect. You're living what they say is the dream. It's no big deal when you're invited to a party by a mysterious letter to an abandoned mansion on the edge of town. It's just one of your rich friends adding a little pizzaz to the party.

 

You've heard the place is haunted but, really, who would believe such a silly notion? When the doors slam behind you, it's no big deal, until you notice the message on the wall. [/align]

 

Stay and play a little game. Live or die, well, that's your choice.

 

 

R u l e s

 

1* Have you ever heard of spelling and grammar? If not, GTFO.

2* You can't control more than two characters. Sorry~ >;

3* Don't be rude to your fellow RP'ers. You can be nice if you want to, sweetie.

4* If you read these rules, put your shampoo at the bottom of your post.

5* No Godmodding. You're trapped, a normal human, and have no clue what's going on.

6* Remember when I said "normal human"? That implies you've got NO. POWERS.

7* Give a decent post, sweetheart. At LEAST a decent five sentences.

8* Have fun~ 8D

 

S i g n - U p S h e e t

 

Name (first and last):

Age:

Appearance:

Bio:

Text Color*:

Sample of RP'ing:

 

* In this RP, we'd like if in your post, everyone had their own specific color. We'll list them below, so you know what's taken.

 

butterflylexi: Orange

SuperPunk: Blue

Lord VanVan: Dark red

TwistedFlairRush: Green

Rosie: Purple

Lady Koko: Dark blue

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Name: Demi Chevalier

Age: 15

Appearance:

Posted Image

 

Bio:

Demi grew up in Paris, France. She lived alone with her brother and her two parents. Demi's older brother tried to beat her to death when she was young. She soon fell into a coma and the neighbors had seen what occured. They called an ambulence and she only remembers waking up in the hospital with no memories of her past. Now that she has relocated to the United States, she is a little shy about talking to people. However, she remains loyal to her brother, even though she has no idea where he is.

 

Text Color: Blue.

Sample of RP'ing:

The boy looked so lost in thought, for a moment Aqua was going to wave a hand in his face to see if he was still paying attention. However then he asked a question.

 

What kind of art was her favorite? She didnt have one... She smiled apologetically and laughed. "I don't have one. Out of the many styles, I can't just pick one. When you try all of the different stlyes with different materials, an artist has a difficult time deciding." Aqua thought she sounded as if she was rambling. She sighed and sat next to Riku, looking out the window and to the sky. A perfect scene from here...

 

The blue haired woman smiled. "However, I really stink at portaits. I can't seem to be able to bring life to them, y'know? But it's weird... I can draw eyes so beautifully by themselves. You can really see what those eyes are hiding.... Lost memories, broken hearts, pain, rage, joy... Absolutely anything is possible when your drawing eyes. My philosophy is that they are the windows to the heart, mind, and soul."

 

 

As soon as she said that, Terra Stronghold knocked on the door.

 

Namine laughed with her friends in front of the school. Her friend Sora had just told a funny joke and was making weird faces too. She looked around her. Kairi, Sora, Roxas, and herself had been having a good time thus far. Namine then saw in the corner of her eye, a couple of boys were running away from a seemingly damp black-haired guy. She looked at him for a moment, dazed.

 

ZOOM!

 

An orange balloon had just barely slipped by her nose. Soon, people who looked like upperclassmen started chucking multicolored balloons filled with who knows what at them. Namine was soon being tugged by Kairi and being pushed by other Freshman into the gates, fleeing from the attack.

 

"Hey!! Wait, Kairi! I need to-" With a thud, Namine fell. She looked up and realized she had crashed into the boy she was staring at a while ago. He had a vicious look on his face that intimidated her.

 

"I.. Uhm... Sorry..."

Herbal Essences

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Accepted <3

 

Name (first and last): Saffron Gates

Age: 14

Appearance:

Posted Image

 

Bio:

Growing up, Saffron wasn't always the nicest girl in class. She was probably the most hateful, spiteful, and downright rudest. Somehow, though, the world was in love with her. It might have something to do with her father's fortune and her model-level beauty. Saffron was content with life, until she turned thirteen. Suddenly, being Queen Bee of her hometown of New York City just wasn't enough. Somehow, a petite, gorgeous, thirteen-year-old wanted power.

She happily skipped out on classes, and even at the young age of fourteen, she was already headed down a dark and dangerous road of smoking, partying, and drugs. To the public, though, Saffron was a sweet and innocent girl. When this multi-personality girl is thrown into a life-and-death situation, who will she really be loyal to? Her reputation, or the lives of strangers?

 

Text Color*: Orange

 

--

 

Name (first and last): Lucas [Luke] LaGrandier

Age: 15

Appearance:

Posted Image

 

Bio:

Luke is every girl's dream--kind, charming, and handsome. Also a bit of a player. He plays his part quite well, too; seeming like he's living the life. On the inside, though, Luke is fighting a losing battle. On top of his struggle with his newly divorced father, he's been diagnosed with lung cancer from second hand smoke--something that is his father's fault, fueling some of their neverending arguments.

Luke's cure to all of his problems is to make someone else's life as happy as his used to be. Popularity makes him feel that way--like he's a hero or something. A beautiful thought for a dying boy.

 

Text Color*: orange

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Name (first and last): Julianna Clarke

 

Age: 17

 

Appearance:

Her hair dirty blonde and she had clear blue eyes like most people expect she would, being from the great land of Britain. She

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Name: Alvar Chevalier

 

Age: Twenty-four years of age

 

Appearance:

 

Quite built for a man his size, being six feet exactly. Not many people can guess he's muscular since he's usually dressed up. He covers his muscles with black slacks, a white button-up shirt, a black vest, matching blazer, and a red tie. Those are the clothes he always wears, even in the blistering summertime. The reason? He got the cursed delicate skin of his mother, burning easily in the sunlight. So he covers it up.

 

His clothing matches his face, as he's been told. Alvar has a long face: high cheekbones and a sharp chin. His eyes are a dark auburn color, quite menacing to look at directly. Falling little ways past his chin, he keeps his dark blond hair well kept -he never keeps it tied up. Almost always his face is contorted into the wicked smirk of his. Along with his eyes, that is what people find most distinguishing about the man.

 

 

Bio:

 

For most of his life, Alvar has suffered with anti-social personality disorder. It was a mental disorder passed down from his grandfather. He grew detached from other children his age. It wasn't because he didn't want to be with others --he did, but for the wrong reasons. Around other children he'd be violent. He'd beat them, often thinking he was invincible. This act, Alvar thought, was impressive to the kids. On the other side, the kids thought he was scary --or, in other words, a monster.

 

When he was a teenager, Alvar tried cigarettes. He liked the feeling the drug gave him, so he continued to smoke. For most of his life, he received no treatment. Why? There was just no real effective way to cure the disorder. It wasn't until Alvar had a run-in with the law that the boy was sent to therapy. Even the therapists were disgusted with the way he could describe the sight of seeing one in pain joyful. Nevertheless, they tried to find the cause, and cure, of the teen's disposition.

 

One night, Alvar snapped. He'd been smoking again, and his parents were having a night out on the town. So, he was home alone with his younger sister, Demi. She asked if he wanted to play with her. However, the teen, in his high state, had a sick and twisted version of 'playing'. Of course, Alvar agreed to play with his sister. This resulted in him pinning her to the floor, beating her until she bled. She cried for him to stop, but he only beat her further. At that rate, the girl would most likely die. The teen took no notice. He did everything: he punched her, slapped her, burned her, and even tried to shoot her with his father's gun. He was about to do the very thing, if not for the ambulance sirens from outside. It was then Alvar fled, not returning to find his sister, or his parents.

 

 

Text Color*: Dark red

 

Sample of RP'ing:

 

With a scowling face, the British 'gentleman' as he was so self-acclaimed, trudged down the hallway of Hetalia High. It was a high school that accepted students from all over the world to gather and learn. The British boy was assigned to help tutor one of the other students who was failing in English. Oh bugger, what a bother. Well, anything was better than being interrupted with his studies by his rather... raunchy roommate. That man needed to keep it in his trousers.

 

This British boy was none other than Arthur Kirkland, from England. Or as he would correct people, the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. He was rather fond of his home country, but was accepting of others. Always willing to learn the cultures of others --minus the French. They were frogs who wanted nothing more than to fool around. He learned that from his roommate, Francis Bonnefoy. Not that Arthur wanted to go on a tangent about the man right now. No, he needed to get to the classroom before the other boy did. Tardiness was not acceptable. He was a gentleman after all.

 

Arthur tugged at the sleeve of his blue blazer. Bloody uniform, it was uncomfortable to say the least, being used to form fitting jeans, and a punk band t-shirt --or polo shirt depending if he was going out-- instead of the button-up shirt, sweater vest, blazer, and plaid pants of the school's uniform. At least he looked dignified, said his parents when he put the uniform on. It took away the punk-ish look from his disheveled hair and thick, thick eyebrows. Arthur always smiled, and chuckled, to himself at the thought. He thought clothes made the person --hence why he dressed up, even if only slightly, in public--, people were judged on their appearance. At that thought, he straightened his blazer out as he arrived at the empty English classroom. He peaked inside; no one there. Thank fish and chips no one was in there.

 

"Well then, I guess I have some time to spare," was what he said on the outside. On the inside his 'incredibly handsome' devilish side went on about scenarios that could happen when the other student arrived. He seemed to favor the one along the lines of him sitting nonchalant at a desk, reading a book, and the student walks in. He'd snap the book shut, look all calm and cool in front of the student and say, "You know, you're quite late you tosser." Yes, that one would work just fine. Although, as sat on top of on of the desks, he knew that he could never pull that off. After all, something always seemed to mess him up. Arthur sighed and pulled at the messy blond hair atop of his head; quite a nervous habit of him.

 

What if the other student didn't like him? Or what if he thought he was too nerdy? Or what if he just refused to not be taught? The possibilities were endless as he listed them off in his head. Now that he thought about it, studying in his dorm room didn't seem so bad after all.

 

 

BUT I DON'T USE SHAMPOO! I use Suave shampoo mostly, but I have a different brand right now. It smells like coconut.

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I'M SUCH AN IDIOT! I was telling myself, "I won't forget to put my shampoo." But then I forgot it. I edited my post though ;A;

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Name (first and last): Shane Swan

Age: 15

 

Appearance:

His hair color is dark black while having some highlights around the edges. He is average height but most people say that he is taller than he actually is due to his shoes. Eye color, gray but that is due to his contacts. Normal weight but wears baggier clothes. He dresses in an attire of T-shirts and jeans, looking like he does not care about what people think.

 

 

Bio:

From his toddler years, he was always a loner. He had a few friends but was kind of an introverted person. Everyone in his life had always perceived him to be a black sheep to everyone else. He was always either reading or experimenting or around people or things that interested him. But he thought he knew himself until that day.

 

 

Text Color*: Green

 

Sample of RP'ing:

 

Daniel, after walking the four miles it took to get to school, took a moment to catch his breath realizing that he had sprinted the entire distance. "Wow, I really need to sit down." said Daniel, so he took a newspaper from by the office after receiving his schedule and sat down on one of the benches. He took out his schedule and started reading with disdain and sheer surprise, "Calculus AB, AP Biology, Theory of Knowledge, AP European History, AP English Literature, and Engineering." He then said, "Well, good-bye sleep, I knew you well. Now let me see the teachers; Mr. Shades, Ms. Joseph, Ms. Spatz, Ms. Fernandez, Mr. Di-vino, and Mr. Spades. OK, the bell is going to ring in a few minutes, I might as well go find this class room. 'H3'" "Time to go" Daniel said as he walked into the mob of the fearful students.

[/color]

 

Head&Shoulders

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Name (first and last): Charlie Loftsgate

 

Age: 17

 

Appearance:

Posted Image

 

 

Bio:

Loud and brash and often rude, when Charlie wanted something, he got it. An only child, he was coddled and spoiled by his parents, allowed anything he asked for. Until he was twelve, that was his life- easy, incredibly so. But, as he grew older, he found himself becoming more and more frustrated; he didn't want to be thought of as perfect, their angel who could do no wrong. The one thing Charlie loved, the one thing he was truly passionate about, was music- he wanted to be a rockstar, shredding up on stage like his idols. And he thought that, for that, he needed an image, to be rebellious and dangerous and generally badass- not just a cheeky blond kid with a guitar in his basement. So, he started to act up, vandalising, trashing things, trying to get people- and his parents- to see he wasn't a stupid mindless kid that they would patronise and talk down to. Even so, the strongest reaction he could seem to provoke from either parent was mild exasperation, which irritated him to no end.

 

Truth was, even he didn't know why it was all so damn frustrating to him. Charlie got worse and worse, starting to get into stealing, drinking, staying out so late he sometimes didn't even return through the night at all. It wasn't like it mattered to him how worried his family might be- he was out, living his life! Having the time of it, actually. He wanted to be selfish.

 

What was the point in staying home and being all angsty and dreaming about being a rockstar? If he partied hard enough, loud enough to drown everything out, he could pretend. Halfway there.

 

 

Text Color*: Purrrrrrple.

 

Sample of RP'ing:

Zero burst out into near-hysterical laughter as the guard tried to wipe the sludge that had been Zero's dinner off his face. Not particularly successful, but having managed to scrape the gunk away from his eyes, the guard lunged at the skinny teen, not a hard thing to do considering there was only two foot's space between them. Bellowing, he only grew more furious when Zero dodged out of his grasp, hopping back across the width of the cell. And the boy was still laughing.

 

 

The sound of the guard's yelling was enough to alert another two, who rushed into the cell without even thinking of stopping to assess the situation. Zero ducked under one's attempt to grab him, kicking out as he moved and feeling satisfied when he heard a low grunt, confirming his foot had met its mark. Skirting around the original guard, he turned, ready to lash out at the last- but he wasn't there. A rough hand caught the back of his shirt, tugging him backwards, and nearly making him lose his balance.

 

 

They dragged him, kicking and screaming and laughing his head off, down to the floor, where they made sure to forcibly restrain his arms before jabbing the syringe a little too roughly into the crook of his elbow. Past hysterical by that point, Zero continued to struggle, even as the sedative rushed into his bloodstream. Those struggles grew weaker and weaker as it started to take effect, until the guards knew for sure he had passed out.

 

 

The distress call for them came, and without a word or a glance between them they abandoned Zero in the cell, slamming the door hard behind them as they left. Sprawled flat against the floor, Zero made a weak noise in the back of his throat.

 

...Aussie 3 Minute Miracle.

Because, with my hair, I need one.

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Gah, damn my phone! It lies to me! DX It was all "it worksssss~!' and then it went and failed in my face.

 

The old image was much, much cuter, but I replaced it with one that at least seems to work.

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Both rejected. Take a peek at the rules again. ;3

 

 

4* If you read these rules, put your shampoo at the bottom of your post.

 

 

 

 

 

ohshitiforgot

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