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Cerebro
Jan 4, 2012 22:31:09 GMT -8
Post by Cerebro on Jan 4, 2012 22:31:09 GMT -8
- OOC: Cerebro
- Age: 20
- Experience: Advanced (If we're talking years rping/experience amount, I'd go more with Veteran. But I haven't done full paragraph rps steadily for a few years now, and I've always been a quality > quantity girl, so I guess my posts could be seen more as advanced. )
- How did you find us?: off of RPG collection. I've been looking for a horse rp to join for a few months, and this place seemed to fit best.
- Secret Word: Correcto! - modified by admin
- Character(s): Consarn (I hope it's ok if I change his name for his profile, I'm still unsure of it)
- Role-play Sample:
(Tron from Tron: Legacy, a good example of what length one of my "long" posts is)
Programs can’t feel cold, but that’s how Tron felt. The sky above rumble, flashed it’s lightening. And Tron was painfully aware for the first time that Anon was not under this sky, under these clouds. He was in the blue and white world of the users, the world of sun and grass and wind. A tremble rode through the program for a moment, fists shaking as they tightened around the lightcycle handle bars. He was stopped, in the dark, out in the Outlands. A world of light, Anon had said. Tron could see one over his shoulder, the pulse of the Grid, the light of the beacon gentle in reflection on the rumbling clouds. What was that, if not light? And dreams and possibility?
The fingers wrapped tighter, knuckles growing white from the pressure. He was saying nothing, but he felt like he’d been screaming. A sharp, angry breath sounded through the air, over the rumbling, over the gentle, idling hum of the lightcycle. If Anon was standing here before him right now, if they had been talking… would he talking like this? Would he be… begging? Or would he have just wrapped him in a hug, whispered his apologies, held him close and swear they’d never be apart again. But he felt like… everything was lost to him. He had nothing to hold on to, no way to use his body to share his emotions, to assure Anon. Just these words he was sending. Every message with Anon’s named tagged to the ID screen made him feel colder and lonelier. A little part of him said This is how he’s been feeling. How he feels because you’ve ignored him. And another part screamed at him it wasn’t true, that he loved Anon, that he wanted nothing more for him to be happy.
He was out here for that reason, to make the Grid safe, to keep Anon safe. Why couldn’t safety make him happy?
Tron leaned over his bike a little more, back muscles stretching and tightening with unreleased tension and anger and fear. Their… “conversation” just kept getting worse, kept dragging him close to the edge. He wasn’t even thinking through his replies, it was all instinct and reaction. It was making it worse, but it was all he could manage. And then the blow came.
>It is obvious to me that the Grid means more to you than I do.
Tron sucked in his breath, staring at the words.
He typed back slowly.
“>My choice? …”
He disconnected the link.
He leaned over his bike, arms shaking.
The grid was so quiet and cold, so empty and dark. All he could think of was Anon. Anon’s smile, Anon’s arms around him, his wide eyes, his infectious curiosity, the warmth he brought to Tron simply by being in the room. And he imagined him saying those words, he imagined tears and hurt and betrayal in those beautiful eyes and the way he would have pulled away, the way the warmth would have fled and the way the fear would fill him. It was settling there now, twisting everything inside.
The security program curled his arms under his head, and cried.
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Cerebro
Jan 5, 2012 10:45:50 GMT -8
Post by ATTY on Jan 5, 2012 10:45:50 GMT -8
ACCEPTED Welcome to Tuathia! If you have any questions, please contact any of the staff. We don't bite, hard. Hope you enjoy your stay here!
(lovely writing btw (: also, khar is the founder here and only she can change your status from 'transient' to 'member', but get posting anyway!)
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