Annie

[color=darkslategray][size=1][right]The distinct click of three-inch high heels beat gingerly on the stone floors of headquarters. The walls were millennium grey, cold and emotionless. The floors are grey marble with black swirls and abstract designs, dry and plain. Stainless steel doors lined the long hallway. The only speck of color in this drab, cold environment was the personality of a woman. Fierce, bold, and stern. Her cherry-red hair flowed in curls down her back, stray locks flittered across her peach-toned skin. Her suit, crisp and streamlined, a soft cream, signifying her pride in her personal appearance. However, this pride was not taken to exaggeration. No, she was too professional to be arogant. The chocolate brown tie let the oncoming traffic of buisnessmen and women know she was of purest intentions. [b]"Lt. Gen. Thomas,"[/b] a young man with bottle glasses rushed to her side. [b]"What is it, Airman?"[/b] Lt. Gen. Thomas, we'll call her Ana, stopped abrupt in her tracks. The clicking of her heels echoed for miles it seemed. The young airman saluted sharply, handed her a brown, leather-bound folder and stood a few paces back. Ana smiled softly and took the folder, carefully looking over the contents inside. [b]"At ease, kind sir." "Thank you, ma'am,"[/b] the young airman swiftly stood at the parade rest. [b]"This just came in today?" "Yes, General." "Hmm, alright,"[/b] Ana handed the airman the folder and nodded,[b] "Let them know I received the messege and I'm on my way." "Yes, ma'am!"[/b] The airman saluted with such precision, his whole arm seemed to represent a tense diving board. Ana smiled and saluted. She spun lightly on her heel and walked down the hallway. She stood infront of the elevators and took in a deep, forlorned breath. [b]"1400 at Hanger Thirteen. Sounds like a date."[/b] The pleasant ding of the elevator door and she steps inside.[/color][/size][/right]

[size=1][b][right]|-Chapter 4- Time Will Tell-| Characters [list][*] Jules Hammerson [*] Father Sammuel Jacobi [*] Marshall Dumat[/list] Summary[/b]- In this chapter, Jules and Father Jacobi find a note from an unknown source. The two talk about the years past (they have not seen or heard from eachother in two years). Jules tells Sammuel about his faith, or the lack there of. And Sammuel explains his new investigation. The two head to the hospital and meet up with Marshall. He explains the situation thus so far. [b]Note[/b]- People in play: Baron Samedi, Dmitri_Dragoon, and myself. _________________________________________________________ [color=darkslategray][b]"What's this?"[/b] Jules plucked the yellow sticky note from his door. [b]"What does it say?"[/b] Father Jacobi glanced over Jules's shoulder. Sammuel read the note carefully. It was written in Italian. The handwriting was unfamiliar. Neat, precise, punctual and well worded. The ink was red and thin. Perhaps it was written with a rolling, ball-point pen. [b]"Hey, Sam. What does it say? I don't understand Italian,"[/b] Jules handed the note to Sammuel and opened his door. The oak door creaked lazily. Jules appartment was open and full of light. The decor reminded Sammuel of South America. Rich, mix-matched colors flooded Sammuel's eyes. Greens, burgundies, oranges, browns, and several variations of off-colors. The furniture was modern, yet furnished to look old an worn. The far wall was all glass windows. Some were boarded up by plywood or cardboard, even sheets of plastic and duct tape. The floors were hardwood, occasionally covered in braided rugs. [b]"Sorry if the place is a mess, I've been rather busy."[/b] Jules lead the way to a closed off corner of the loft. The small room area contained a full-sized bed with exotic sheets and many pillows. A small wicker dresser was just to the right. It had small Native American artifacts. The walls supported a few paintings of fruits and of people. Above the heavily carved headboard hung a turquoise dream catcher. [b]"Your loft is amazing, Jules. The colors are so rich and relaxing,"[/b] Sammuel removed his over coat and lay it on the over-stuffed leather chair in the corner. [b]"Thanks. I'll just set your bags on the bed,"[/b] Jules lifted the luggage onto the matteress. [b]"Thank you, Jules." "No problem. Hey, you look like you could use a drink,"[/b] Jules winked and started to walk back towards the kitchen. [b]"Absolutely,"[/b] Sammuel chuckled and followed, glancing and examining the paintings and artifacts along the way. Jules walked over to his hidden refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of whine. He held it up for Sammuel's approval. [b]"That will do just fine,"[/b] Sammuel smiled and sat down on a barstool. Jules poured the red whine into a couple of glasses and handed one to Sammuel. He walked around the bar and sat down next to his friend. [b]"So, Jules. What have you been up to this past couple of years?"[/b] Sammuel sat his glass down on the maple countertop.[/size][/color][/right]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][b]Poem[/b]- The peanut gallery is where we reign, In the memory of a child's game, Softball fields and doghouse naps, Plus, constant thoughts for booby-traps, Charlie Brown in love and glee, Oh my word, Lord good grief!! [b]Word[/b]- Suits[/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][b]Poem[/b]- A glimpse of destiny calling brings tears to the heart, Life that is precious will soon take its start, Of merrier men and expectation, May we praise this determination. [b]Word[/b]- Fortitude[/size][/color]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][b]Poem-[/b] The pleasant caress of the sun on my cheeks, How I've longed for these past weeks, Arise a new, joyous fest of the season, Time passes through, disregard the reason. [b]Word-[/b] Whispers[/size][/color]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][right][b] |-Chapter 3- A Warm Hand to Hold-| Characters [list][*]Christina Venicci [*] Marshall Dumat [*] Corey Roos[/list] Summary-[/b] Christina is still "imprisoned" within the sanctum of the Catholic hospital. Marshall is still trying to gather as much information from Christina as he possibly can. However, Christina is a rather fiesty person to control. Tired of her uncooperative attitude, Marshall calls upon someone in whom he thinks Christina will warm up to, Corey. Will Christina comprimise? Will Corey be able to calm her down? [b]Note-[/b] People in play: Dmitri_Dragoon, KnightoftheRose, and Arika. Dmitri_Dragoon, the floor is yours. KnightoftheRose, you'll be next. Finally, Arika, you steal the stage.[/color][/size][/right]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]I'm in..well, obviously ^_^. Here he is. Are you ready for him? [b]Name-[/b] Ty, Guardian of Fire [b]Age-[/b] Beyond comprehension [b]Appearance-[/b] [url= http://www.psycko-manga.com/gallery/guy/4-1.htm] Fire Guardian, Ty[/url] (imagine a brown leather bandana covering his eyes) [b]Personality[/b]- Filled with much pain, sorrow, and torment, Ty?s soul is cold and emotionless. His lips hold no smile. His eyes, if he could look at you, would force even the strongest of Gods to falter with sympathy and pity. [b]Weapons/Abilities[/b]- [u]Fire's Wrath[/u]--This is an attack used with his whip. The whip is made of tightly bound hair of the fire demons that inhibited the volcano thousands of years past when Ty was sentenced to this fiery imprisonment. When used, the whip will become engulfed with flames and the ear-piercing screams of the demons that haunt the whip surround its victim. The body is sent through a torturing death of flame. Their eardrums shatter and bleed, the result of the demon?s lack of mercy. [u]Demon's Flame[/u]--This attack is used with Ty's sword. When in use, the sword glows blue with intense heat and when the victim is sliced, the heat from the sword cauterizes the flesh making it [u]impossible[/u] to heal. This is mainly used as a time buyer, unless Ty decides to decapitate you ^_^. [u]Incineration's Demise[/u]-- This is an up-close-and-personal attack Ty reigns down with his own hands and fingernails. This usually follows the Demon?s Flame attack. The victim?s inability to heal their previous wound gives the opportunity for Ty to retaliate. With empty hatred and the strength of infinite demons, Ty buries his nails and/or fists into the victim?s wound(s). The wound bursts into flames, the body incinerated from inside-out. [u]Eyes of Eternal Hell[/u]--Because of his curse, he is now unable to look upon anything without it bursting into flames. But when he does reveal his eyes, the sky turns black. The earth grows cold and silent. Normally, flames would be colors of orange, red, and sometimes blue. However, the flames that escape Ty?s horrid eyes are of black. The darkest and most wicked of fire. Everything in Ty?s sight is enveloped with blackness. The skin turns various shades of greens and grays. The breath is drawn from the lungs faster than one can blink. The body?s moisture is evaporated on contact. Within a matter of seconds, the victim bursts into ash and scatters to the wind. [b]Bio[/b]- Ty was the guardian of fire and everything that fire could do. He was very prestigious amongst the Gods. He loved the wind because it would fuel his flames; he loved the earth for providing him with the materials to burn; he admired how Earth would rebuild herself, creating something better every time. But of all the guardians or Gods, he did not like the waters. The water had the power to put out his flames, his love. Aside from that, he was respected by all elements, even some Gods. He spent his time perfecting his abilities and gifts. One day he fell in love with the Goddess Aurora, Anubis's secret love. Ty and Aurora spent much time together and were said to be wed. Anubis received word to this and cursed Ty to the damnation of never able to look upon anything without it burning in Hell's fire. Ty was never able to look upon his love, Aurora, ever again. Ty would not allow this. He swore to die before he lost her. Over time, and much patience and understanding from Aurora, Ty became for dependent and skilled with his sense of touch. A sense he had taken for granted. Infuriated with the two lover?s desperation for each other, Anubis damned Ty to his prison, a volcano. For many millennia, he lay dormant inside his prison. Tormented. Then one day a scientist released his soul and remains, and experimented on him. [I]?Revenge, a dish best served cold??[/I] [/size][/color]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]I have [i]Reservoir Chronicles: Tsubasa[/i] v1. And I loved it. The story is sweet and I love how it coincides with two other CLAMP works (that v1 shows), xXx-Holic and it hosts two characters from X/1999 [crap, that's probably a spoiler >.

[size=1][b]Poem[/b]- Hm..let me take a wack at this crazy art of prophet, For I am not the one to dote on the market, My mind, it searches for words to such apparel, To suit my laden body. [b]Word[/b]- Belligerence[/size]

[size=1]Exactly what Semjaza said. I will admit to this. Some of my stories, o.O and They had it coming.., for example, did not have a set goal in mind. And that's how those died. Having a goal is important for the survival of an RPG. Also, another point I'd like to make is the foundation of the story. I don't consider the foundation/background of a story to be the same as a goal. The foundation is the spine of a good RPG. If you have a good, stable background for a story, then you should have no problem in reaching your goal in the story. Some RPGs (mine included) have not met this. I don't know why, but most of mine will have a good foundation and a set goal in mind, but they get so far before they plummet. No matter, that's why I participate in several other RPGs. The best RPG I've [b]ever[/b] participated in, read, and finished (well, I personally didn't get to finish with the group of writers), is [i]Black Horizon[/i]. That was the turning point in my writing and my pride as a Role-player. I gladly give KnightoftheRose all of my utmost gratitude for that.[/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]Trix stopped under a dimming street light. The local radio station rocked some Van Halen, but even the oldies couldn't pacify Trix. [i]What did I do? Nothing, Trix. You didn't do anything......Damnit, what's going on? I thought I got away from this a long time ago....Why now? Shit, Nate. I don't want him to get involved. I don't know what he'll do to Nate....[/i] Trix folded her arms over the steering wheel and rest her cheek. Tears formed up. Tears of anger, confusion, and worry. [i]Poor Laura and Shelly. Well, maybe not Shelly. But Laura, she's probably worried that I am going to trash her and Shelly....and she's Nate's sister. Now I've just put her in danger too. God damnit![/i] Trix then slammed the steering wheel with a fist. Her knuckles cracked and bled slowly. She looked at her hand and reached into the glove box to find a bandana. She tightly wrapped her hand and leant back into the seat. The sound of a bike echoed in the distance. Trix got out of the Camero and sat on the hood. The bike turned the corner and slowed to a halt. Nate jumped off of the bike and trotted up to Trix. [b]"Trix, baby,"[/b] Nate wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her off of the car, [b]"Tell me what's going on." "First of all, please call your sister and tell her that she's got nothing to worry about." "What? Maybe you should tell her yourself." "She won't listen to me." "You don't know Laura. She hardly listens to me either."[/b] Trix gave a smile as Nate handed her his cell. [b]"What Nate?" "Laura."[/b] A silence. [b]"What do you want Trix?" "I just thought I'd tell you that you and Shellz have nothing to worry about. I know who torched my truck." "Oh. Well, thanks. Who did it?" "DSV." "What?! Who?" "Someone you don't know." "Try me."[/b] Trix hung up. She handed the phone to Nate and lay her forehead on his chest. [b]"We'll get this worked out, babe. I'll be here." " The torching of my truck meant war. Not the Street Wars, but a war between me and this man." "I'm not following." "A long time ago, about five years ago, I was with this guy. His name is Justin Briney." "HIM?!" "Just, dont' say anything. This is hard enough as it is." "Sorry, but what did you see in him? You know I had problems with him right?" "Nate!" "Okay, okay." "I don't know what I saw in him. But anyways, as you obviously know, he hates you. And he hates me for,''[/b] Trix pauses, [b]" for being with you. He knows you are going to win the Street Wars and wants to do anything to ruin it." "He's no longer a member, so why is he doing this?" "You and me, the fact that I'm seeing you, the fact that I never want to have anything to do with him, and the fact that you will win Street Wars. And also the one last fact, that you have one the girl,"[/b] Trix lifted her head and traced Nate's face with her index finger. [/size][/color]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][b]OOC: Um, Trix had already entered her club..[/b] IC: Trix hung up her cell phone and took one more glance at the cloth body tarp. She sighed deeply and walked up to the tarp. [b]"Well, let's get going,"[/b] Trix grabbed the corner and pulled roughly. The cloth caressed and slid smoothly off of the rich orange paint, revealing the monster that lay silent. A 1969 Camero SS. The heart of this beast beat of a 425 horsed hemmy. Duel exhaust jutted slightly from the raised rear. Deep set Rally American Racing rims with five-star spokes. Manual, 4-speed transmission (don't underestimate that). The body was sleek and flawless. Hugger orange paint with two white racing stripes. White cloth interior. This machine was a classic lover's dream. [b]"You ready?"[/b] Trix released a hesitant breath and opened the driver door. She pressed a small button underneath the chasy (body), unlocking the car. She pressed another to raise the basement's doors. Climbing in, Trix gripped the steering wheel with anxiety. She had driven this car before, and thought never to do it again. After several deep breaths, Trix finally started the powerful machine and backed out slowly. The low and verberating rumble from the Camero caught more attention Trix wanted. All of the people outside came running around the corner. [b]"Time to go,"[/b] Trix shifted and stalled, [b]"What the..Damn, I forgot. Carberator."[/b] Trix, red in embarrassment, shifted again and pulled forward out of the parking lot. She took a quick look and saw Laura and Shelly looking towards the flaming truck. She decided to just leave and meet up with [i]him[/i]. Trix dialed Nate. [b]"Hey-lo,"[/b] Nate's perky voice answered. [b]"We are going to have problems,"[/b] Trix shifted and nearly lost her phone from the Camero's eager thrust. [b]"What? What's the problem?" "My Ford, is toasted. Literally,"[/b] Trix growled. [b]"What?!" "Yeah, I'm on my way to talk to the people who did it." "Who?" "The DSV."[/b][/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][b]Name-[/b] Lieutanant General Ana Thomas [b]Age[/b]- 33 [b]Gender[/b]- Female [b]Appearance[/b]- [url=http://home.wanadoo.nl/computerjantje/topcelebrity/T-julian.jpg] Click[/url] (She wears a brown leather patch over her left eye.) [b]Specialty[/b]- Operations Intelligence [b]Bio[/b]- The biography of Lieutenant General Ana Thomas begins not at her birth as a human being. Instead, it starts at the birth of her Air Force career. At the age of nineteen, Ana joined the force in an aspiration of being a renowned pilot. Her training went accordingly to the pilot standards. Go to survival school, attend the Air Force Academy, have at least a bachelor's in college, go through basic training, all of that good stuff. Ana graduated at the top of her class and was offered the best quality of flight training the Air Force had to offer. It seemed Ana was well on her way. However, at the age of twenty-three, at the rank of Major, Ana fell victim to a car accident. The accident inhibited the use of her left eye and totally obliterated her pilot career. For several months, Ana sunk into a depression. All she ever wanted to do was fly. It was her one love. But, the Air Force refused to lose one of their best airman and offered Ana the position of Lieutenant Colonel in a field that was in desperate need of Ana's keen mind. Operations Intelligence. A field in which was very hard for the average person to enter. Ana agreed, seeing as how the Air Force was her only family. Over the years, Ana quickly climbed the ranks. Her dedication and strength placed her on top of the Intelligence Headquarters as the Headquarter's commander. General Thomas helped plan and carry out the missions of the [i]Event Horizon[/i] and knows all there is to know about the missions, the crews, and the ship itself. After the recent mission, Intelligence HQ received transmissions and transcripts of messeges sent out from the ship. Ana investigated and looked over the files, taking in the events that took place. When the question of sending the crew back up to finish the ship off came through, Ana was the first to volunteer. Her only request was to be assigned the mission with the former crew.[/size][/color]

[color=darkslategray][b]OOC: Sorry for the wait ^_^;;[/b] [center][size=3][FONT=Palatino Linotype]Vengence[/font][/size][/center] [right][size=1]The rain drips from the now soaked clothes. Laundry lines seemed to connect the brick buildings. Charlotte drug her cold fingers along the rough surface of the buildings. Her boots crunched the trash and aluminum cans that littered the alleyway. Her blue-black hair clung to her face. The lonely streets of Chicago, so belligerent and infested with filth. The noise of the putrid ghetto filled the polluted sky. Horns and sirens, yelling and dogs barking, a wonderful image of a prosperous city. The sun broke through the grey clouds, only for a brief moment. Teasing the citizens with warmth. Charlotte lifted her face to the sky, hoping to feel the sun's touch. The realization was bittersweet. Charlotte hugged herself, knowing she could not feel even herself. She reached the end of the alley and peered out onto the cluttered streets. [b]"This is going to be like a needle in a hay stack,"[/b] she sighed and walked out onto the sidewalk. The people, so cruel, so inticed with their pitiful lives, bumped and shoved. Charlotte did not care. She stopped at a small cafe and looked in. With no hunger, and nothing else to do at that particular moment, she entered and sat at the bar. [b]"What may I get fer yuh, hun?"[/b] an overweight waitress held a mug of coffee, that was probably cold as Charlotte's body. [b]"Oh, nothing, thank you." "Alright, jes give me a holler if yuh need anythan',"[/b] the waitress walked down to refill a man's cup. Charlotte watched the television. The program was interrupted by the local new channel. [i][b]"This just in: The aclaimed scientist, John Ronald has died unexpectedly and most mysteriously today. Officials suspect a homicide. Further investigation continues and, as always, we will updated..."[/b][/i] The blonde anchorist continued on about shootings and such. Charlotte narrowed her eyes, curious.[/color][/size][/right]

[size=1][b][color=darkslategray][right] |-Chapter Two- A Meeting-| Characters [list][*] Father Sammuel Jacobi [*]Jules Hammerson [/list] Summary-[/b] In this chapter Sammuel is currently on an investigation, but is pulled away by Cardinal Claudio. Cardinal Claudio informs Sammuel of the incident in the grunge projects of Brooklynn and orders Sammuel to investigate. Despite his hesitation, Sammuel follows orders and heads to America and meets up with his friend, Jules Hammerson. [b]Note[/b]- People in play: Baron Samedi and myself. As always, PM me with any concerns. The writing that is italisized is emphasizing that the language being spoke is Italian. _____________________________________________________________ [b][i]"Father Jacobi, what is your opinion?"[/b][/i] a young priest held tight onto his praying beads. Sammuel Jacobi stood silent in the center of a giant medallian embedded in the stone. The cathedral was amazing. Majestic marble pillars braced the tons of stained glass murals and stone beams. The floor, enlays of varieties of marble and granite, intricate with carvings of Christ and of the Mother Mary. Cherubs lay at the Lord's feet. The crucifix hung above the massive altar. He was in awe. [b][i]"Magnificant, you maintain the cathedral's glory so faithfully,"[/b][/i] Sammuel smiled and began to walk towards the altar. [b][i]"Thank you, Father. We take great care of our house, and of its people. I am correct in assuming you know the reason why you are here?" "Yes, where is the statue?" "This way, Father, if you please."[/b][/i] The young priest led the way behind the altar. Sammuel once more glanced up at Jesus on the cross. His face, His pain, forced even the strongest of man to turn in pity. Sammuel kissed his fingers and placed them on His feet. [b][i]"You don't know how much we appreciate your arrival. This is most unusual. It has begun to frighten our devoted members. So much that they have stopped attending the mass." "What a shame. I'm sure it is a beautiful ceremony." "Here it is, Father."[/b][/i] The priest pulled the heavy purple cloak, revealing a statue of the Virgin Mary. Sammuel nearly fell to his feet at what he was faced with. She was crying. Only, her tears were not of salt. They were of blood. [b][i]"How long has She been crying?" "Three days now. Ever since Father Amiria passed away. I've tried to wipe them away and clean Her face, but I come back not more than an hour later and the blood just keeps spilling down Her face."[/b][/i] Sammuel blinked and took out a small leather case. In the case was a miniature forenisc set. Sammuel took a few vials of blood and slipped them into the slots provided. He then reached into his bag and pulled out his camera. [b][i]"You don't mind, Father Marceles?"[/b][/i] Father Marceles shook his head vigorously. Sammuel nodded in appreciation and snapped pictures. After he was finished, Father Marceles walked Sammuel to the arched doors. [b][i]"Thank you, Father Marceles." "You are most welcome. Father Jacobi, do you know when you can inform me of the results?" "I cannot promise anything. However, I will reassure you that this is not a curse."[/b][/i] ____________________________________________ [b]"Ah, Sammuel, my child. Please have a seat,"[/b] a greying man in a red gown kissed Sammuel on the cheeks. [b]"Thank you, Cardinal-" "Please, I have asked you before, call me Marcus.'' "Very well, Marcus."[/b] Sammuel nodded and sat in a tall-back leather chair. The Cardinal chuckled and walked behind his ancient desk. The room was very open and light. The soft woods and emerald greens accented eachother richly. The carvings of cherubs and gothic arches decorated every wall, every bookcase, every piece of furniture. [b]"I've seen the results of your investigatin, Sammuel. I cannot allow you to continue this particular case." "What? I beg your pardon, Marcus." "I have another assignment for you." "No, your eminence, I want to continue this case." "Sammuel, anyone could have rigged this statue to 'cry'." "But, the tears were warm. And of human blood." "Enough of this. You will go on this next assignment."[/b] Marcus set his fists firmly, yet calmly on the mahogany desktop. Sammuel rubbed his face, a habit to show that he was frustrated. Marcus held a manila envelope over the desk. Stubbornly, and most irritant, Sammuel took the envelope and scimmed over then contents. He paused, the envelope slipped from his grasp. Marcus sat back. [b]"The Stigmata,"[/b] Sammuel's voice caught in his throat. [b]"Yes. Go to New York, Sammuel. Put a hush on this situation. It's all the Vatican needs at this point." |-Three days later-| "There you are!"[/b] a man, in his late thirties held out his hand. [b]"Jules, how wonderful to see you,"[/b] Sammuel laughed and took his friend's hand. [b]"What on earth brings you back here?"[/b] Jules smiled and helped with Sammuel's bags. [b]"A special case," the two walked out of the terminal and out of the airport. Brooklynn, New York City, New York.[/b] [b]Note[/b]- Baron, you are next. From here, they go to Jule's place while Sammuel makes a few phone calls to the Arch Bishop. They then go to meet up with Marshall.[/size][/color][/right]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]Trix lay on her back for a few minutes, staring at the glow-in-the-dark designs on the ceiling. She twirled her hair, frustrated and annoyed. Not at the fact that Nate had left on the behalf of his sister, but at the fact that she had let a guy get to her. She was always the strongest out of her friends, never to be controlled. Yet, Nate. Nate had a quality that tamed the fiesty cat within Trix. And the agonizing thoughts kept running through her mind. [i]The gangs...His friends, whom hate me....His sister, whom despises me....Will this work out?....Will we ever find stability?.....Did I do the wrong thing......What have I done....[/i] Trix buried her face into a pillow and nearly ripped it in half. She chucked it across the room and jumped off of the couch. Grabbing her keys, Trix burst out into the club, accidently shoving a few people. [b]"Trixy, you a'ight?"[/b] a fellow racer from the White Lightning held onto his drink. [b]"I'm fine,"[/b] Trix answered bluntly, brushing past him. [b]"Hey! Trix!!!"[/b] She twirled around to see a high school girlfriend waving frantically. Her face told Trix that something was very wrong. The girl caught up to Trix and hunched over, gasping for breath. [b]"What's wrong, Cin?"[/b] Trix helped this girl to her feet. [b]"It's...your...truck..." "What about my truck?!"[/b] Trix exclaimed. [b]"It's...on fire.."[/b] Cindy broke into tears. [b]"What?!"[/b] Trix released her friend and bolted for the doors. She sunk to her knees and watched helplessly as her Ford was obliterated within the blue and orange flames. Everyone ran about with fire extinguishers, someone had already called the fire department. Trix just sat, numb and bewildered. [b]"Trix,"[/b] Cindy touched Trix's shoulders. [b]"I don't understand. Did anyone see anything?" "No. I pulled up from the back entrance and saw a glow. I couldn't make out what it was at first, but I saw your tail plate. I'm sorry, Trix,"[/b] Cindy leant over and hugged Trix to her. [b]" Someone did this." "Are you sure? Your systems may have been over exerted from that race with Nate." "No. My systems were perfectly fine when I came in." "Who do you think did this?"[/b] Trix shook her head, tears of fury scorched her face. She stood and pushed Cindy away. She cooly walked back into the club and opened the "Employees Only" door behind the bar. Behind the door was a flight of stairs that led down into darkness. The basement. She flicked on the light and looked at a grey cloth. It shaped and hugged the curves and lines of the machine that set dormant. [b]"It's about time I give you a spin,"[/b] Trix took out her cell and dialed. [b]"Yo,"[/b] a deep voice answered. [b]"It's Trix." "Well, hello, Trixton." "What the hell was that for?" "What was what for?" "My flippin' truck!"[/b] A sinister chuckle seeped into Trix's ear. [b]"Why don't we talk about this in person, Trixton." "Stop calling me by my real name! You know I hate that." "That's why I do it. The Boardwalk, ten minutes. Be there." "I'll make sure you will pay with your-" "Now, now, Trix,"[/b] the man's voice seethed, [b]"Be a good sport and just be there. Or your precious truck will not be the last thing to burn tonight."[/color][/size][/b]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][b]OOC: Okay, before this goes any further. I just realized we've all been cursing and this RPG doesn't have a rating label ^_^;; So, perhaps we should be a bit more conservative.[/b] The two slowly backed up towards the couch. Nate's hands wandered over the curves of Trix's hips, pulling her into him. Being the accident prone chick she is, Trix's heel collided with the foot of the couch. [b]"Ooops,"[/b] Trix lost her footing and fell backwards, pulling Nate with her. [b]"Hey!"[/b] Nate fell ontop of Trix. The two were silent, staring at one another. [b]"You really did mean what you said, didn't you?"[/b] Nate ran his fingers through Trix's silky red hair. [b]"Of course, I did. We had so many good times." "Yeah, we did."[/b] Another soundless gaze. [b]"Nate, you are the only guy I've ever felt good about. There was never a time when you treated me badly. You were always there for me, despite what your sister thought of me, or anyone else. Always."[/b] Trix looked away. Never had anyone seen her cry, and she would not allow Nate to see. However, he had other plans. His hands cupped Trix's face and he turned her face to kiss her cheeks. [b]"Then, I will always be here,"[/b] Nate smiled truethfully and hugged Trix tightly.[/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][b]"Haha! I don't think so, Nate,"[/b] Trix laughed and parked in the driveway. The neon lights played tricks once more on the Lightning. The truck glossed and glittered as Trix parked next to a tricked out Jetta. [b]"C'mon, I want to hear it,"[/b] Nate's playful chuckle forced Trix to smile. [b]"Ugh, no one won." "Nope, I won." "Fine, fine. You won,"[/b] Trix sighed and laid on her side across the bench seat. She stretched and yawned, much like a cat. Her curves twisted under her loose-fitting shorts and she began to twirl her hair. Her habit. [b]"I want that confession,"[/b] Nate protested. Laura's voice came over the phone. She was telling Nate to hang up the phone. Typical. [b]"Tell your sister to chill,"[/b] Trix growled. [b]"Don't worry bout her, where are you?....Shut up, sis! Damn,"[/b] Nate groaned. Again, the two began to argue. [b]"You know what, Nate. Just call me when that out-of-tune violin decides to quit screaching,"[/b] Trix sat up, raising her voice. Nate laughed, a slight muffle and static fuzzed into Trix's ear. [b]"Sorry, babe. I dropped my cell,"[/b] embarrassed, Nate tried to laugh. [b]"You silly boy. Call me later, okay?" "You got it,"[/b] a click and Trix got out of the truck. [b]"Who won?"[/b] A couple of kids on their BMX bikes asked as Trix entered the club. [b]"5-0,"[/b] a simple response. Trix pranced to the bumping techno, stopping and talking to random people. Several minutes later, she was in her private room, the office. The office was a gameroom turned office. There was a pool table and air hockey table, a personal bar, and a small dance floor. In the corner was a place to sit on couches, bean bags, and floor pillows, to play PS2 and/or watch TV/movies. [b]"Ah, home,"[/b] Trix jumped on an ovestuffed couch and turned on the PS2. Her cell rings. [b]"Talk to me,"[/b] Trix shouldered the phone while trying to perform some spins on Tony Hawk's Underground. [b]"Okay, the violin is gone. Where you at?" "The office." "On my way."[/b] Trix smiled, Nate's on his way.[/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]Consunse blinked, confused and dilusional. Carlos leant over and shook her slightly. [b]"You alright?" "Ugh..what was that?"[/b] she sat up and clutched her temples. Odysseus stood and stared cooly. Carlos helped Consunse to stand. [b]"Now, do you believe me?"[/b] Odysseus turned and began to walk. They were silent. No one spoke a word for several minutes. Consunse could no longer bear the silence. She never could. [b]"Odysseus, sweet, where are we going now?"[/b] Odysseus glanced over his shoulder, his eyes cold and bitter. [b]"Back to the camp. Lorn will want to see these artifacts. He's probably worried sick about us. And you weren't even supposed to be here. So, he's probably heated up a bit on that note,''[/b] Odysseus leaned into the gusts of wind. He longed to take flight into those powerful streams of wind. To feel weightless, to be free of gravity that binds the body to the earth. To be the wind. He spread his arms and allowed the winds to move his fingers, entertwining them with their gentle licks. His hair, still moist from sweat, tangled and tickled his forehead. He took in a deep breath, refreshing his twinging senses. [b]"Ody! Snap out of it, we have company,"[/b] Carlos nodded towards the plateaus. Odysseus looked over and saw dozens of horses. [b]"Nomads."[/b][/size][/color]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][b]Name[/b]- Charlette Maxwell [b]Age[/b]- 18 [b]Gender[/b]- Female [b]Race[/b]- Human [b]Appearance[/b]- [url=http://www.animeshrine.com/gallery.php?series=angelsanctuary&image=26]Charlotte[/url] She wears all black. Black leather pants, a tight black, lacey long-sleeved top, boots and an ankle-length jacket. [b]Weapon(s)[/b]- [list][*]Twin IMI .357 magnum Desert Eagles. One is silver-plated and the other is black. Each are hosltered on opposite thighs. [*] One whip that has a frayed tip. The tips have double-edged razor blades constructed into the leather.[/list] [b]Biography-[/b] Growing up in a foster home from the age of 4, she never knew her parents. She was the mischievious child in school, but everyone loved her. She's a fun, witty, and sweet girl who would do anything for you. At the age of 13 she had gotten herself into some trouble with theft. She ran away from her foster home at the age of 15, when the foster father tried to molest her. She lived on her own, working 2 jobs and attending school. One day she met a man, of 18 years of age, she was waitressing his table. He asks for her number and everything went on from there. They were always together, always by eachother's side. His name was Coby Rogers. For 3 years he took care of her, taking her under his wing. He knew of her past, but he didn't care. One day, on his 21st birthday Febuary 14th, the two were sitting infront of the fire place. He asked Charlette to marry him. Charlette says yes, then the door bell rings...... [b]Alrighty, I have the list of peeps who are in. I won't start this RPG until tomorrow night or Sunday. But here's the list: [list][*]Dmitri_Dragoon [*]Lynx [*]Raiha [*]Burori [*]Imi[/list] Congrats, and I will now say, sign-ups are closed. I will notify you players when I put it up.[/b] [/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]Trix watched the two drive away in Laura's Ferrari. She thought about jumping in the Lightning and following them, just to make sure they made it alright, but quickly squashed the idea. Laura and Trix were not the best of friends. In fact, they were never friendly aquaintances. Laura nearly wrecked Trix's truck when she found out that Nate was dating her. Of course, Laura wasn't alone, Shelly always did her best to let Trix know that she wasn't welcome around them. [b]"What in the hell were you doing racing him? You know his Escudo is seriously screwed up. And it's because of you!"[/b] Shelly spun on her heel. [b]"Ugh, do you smell that?"[/b] Trix sniffs the air, [b]"Smells like Shellfish. Why don't you get into that box car and piss off." "What did you just say?"[/b] Shelly walked up to Trix, her fists clenched. Trix merely smiled and hung her thumbs in her pockets. [b]"You heard me,"[/b] Trix narrowed her eyes. Shelly raised her fist but was stopped by a sharp grasp around her wrist. She twirled around to launch her back-up fist, but it too was caught. [b]"Cat fight, reowr,"[/b] Asim smiled and lightly shoved Shelly back. [b]"When did you get back?"[/b] Trix chuckled and leant over onto her truck. The engine was hissing and the frame of the truck was heated. Trix glanced at her laptop and saw that everything was cooling down normally. Asim's smile slowly faded. [b]"Now, what was all of that violence?" "Oh, this little twit hates me,"[/b] Trix yawned and stretched her arms above her head. Shelly rolled her eyes, [b]"You totally screwed Nate." "Sure did, and it was the best I've ever had,"[/b] Trix teased and laughed mockingly. [b]"You bi-"[/b] Shelly exclaimed. [b]"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy killer,"[/b] Asim held the flailing girl around the waist. Trix just laughed harder and opened the door to her truck. She slid into the seat and blared Disturbed. Trix shifted and took off. [b]"Welcome back, Asim!"[/b] She drove back into the city, heading back to the club. [i]I wonder if I did screw Nate. His Escudo is really messed up..[/i] With that in mind, Trix swung an abrupt U-turn and headed towards the opposite side of town. "The Game" plays loudly, echoing into the night.[/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]Meh, Piro did the better and uber sexiest job. Down with you and your UNSEXY idealistic revolution, DragonWarrior! Viva la Resistance! -the animation did make me giggle, just this much.......... :rolleyes: [/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][b]OOC: Oh hell yes! [/b] IC: [b]"Fuck!"[/b] Trix exclaimed, sitting up straight and grasping the steering wheel and shift. She saw Nate nod, giving her the sign to get the hell out of the area. She skillfully down shifted and swung the rear end of the Lightning around, spraying up a wave of water onto the police cars. She quickly shot out of the water and out towards the open cannal. She looked into her rearview to see Nate luring a couple of cars. [b]"Go baby!"[/b] Trix yelled to no one in particular and shifted two more times, jolting the Ford and sending it soaring. She was no more than a quarter mile away when blue and red lights illuminated her cab. Trix checked her stats, everything was warm but not too hot. Satisfied, Trix shifted into fifth, the cop kept up. [b]"What the-?"[/b] Trix gripped the wheel as she rode on the slanted sides of the cannal walls. She glanced back in her sideview. The cop was keeping up still! Confused and quite infuriated, Trix decided to quit playing games with the cop. She descended the wall and shot into a tunnel. Luckily, she knew the cannal better than anyone, so she knew what to expect. She slowed down drastically and took a sharp right, barely missing the dead-end wall. [b]"Mood music,"[/b] Trix shoved in Metallica. "Anywhere I roam," began to play. Trix turned the dial and sung along. The tunnel swerved and turned, like a maze. A few seconds into the song, a rumbling began to vibrate the water on the tunnel ground. Trix looked into her mirror to see a fireball hurdling towards her. [b]"Oh, I forgot to tell him about that sharp right,"[/b] she chuckled slightly and pressed the gas into the floor. The light for the exit rapidly grew larger. The truck shot out like a bullet leaving the gun's barrel right before the fire engulfed Trix. She slowed and began to merge onto the city streets. [i]Riiiing...riiiiinngg....riii-[/i] [b]"Talk to me,"[b] Trix flipped open her phone, down shifting to meet city speed limits. [b]"You okay?"[/b] Nate. [b]"Yeah, I'm good. You?" "Eh, I'm alright. The Escudo isn't." "Shit man, where are you?"[/b] Trix stopped in a small parking lot. [b]"In the emergency hide-out." "Okay, you'd better stay there. I'll be there in a few minutes."[/b][/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][b]"Let's see what I've got,"[/b] Trix breathed in deeply. It had been years since she had raced "Thunder Road". And to be quite honest, she was scared. Not of the power of her vehicle, or the possibility of lossing, it was that fear of seeing that terrifying crash. Flashes of memories clouded her vision for a few seconds before she shook her head. Nate was lined up, waiting for her. Taking a deep breath, Trix slammed the clutch and shifted swiftly from second to third, jerking the Ford foward. She rolled up slowly beside Nate and checked up on her dashboard laptop. All systems go. [b]"Trixy-pix,"[/b] Nate leant over into his passenger seat, [b]" we're doing an endurance check. You remember what that is?'' "Fuck you, Nate. You know damned well I know,"[/b] Trix flared. [b]"A'ight, ready?"[/b] Nate blew a kiss at Trix. [b]"Always,"[/b] she sat back and clutched the knob. Her breath drew in, steadily and heavily. The engines of their vehicles echoed off the walls of the cannal. A girl, no older than sixteen stood about twenty feet away. She was holding a green bandana. Trix glanced quickly at Nate and then back to the girl. [b]"DO IT!"[/b] the girl screamed and dropped the bandana. As soon as the bandana left her hand, Trix quickly shifted to first then second. 65 miles per hour, she shifted to third. Nate was right beside her. 89 miles per hour, she shifted to fourth. Nate still remained dead lined. 100 miles per hour, fifth gear. The superchargers kicked in and shot the horsepower into high gear, Trix shifts to sixth gear. The force of the engines pulled the truck forward, a good speed of a buck thirty-five (135mph). Trix glances, Nate is on her rear, not too far. [b]"Damn, this is going to be close,"[/b] Trix watched for the marker.[/color][/size]

[color=red][b]Warning[/b]- This RPG is rated R for sacreligious usage, crude language, and violence.[/color] [size=1][b]Note[/b]- I'm going to [b]try[/b] and use the chapter style of writing with this RPG. If it doesn't go to well within the first few posts, then I will eliminate it and we will continue with posting normally. The list of admissions is in the Recruitment Forum, if you aren't on the list, then please, send your comments via PMs. If you wish to join, PM me and I'll see what we can do.[/size] [center][font=impact][size=3]Stigmata[/center][/size][/font] [RIGHT][size=1][b]|-Chapter 1- The First Wound-|[/b] [b]Characters[/b] [list][*]Christina Venicci [*]Marshall Dumat[/list][/right] [b]Summary[/b]- In this chapter, Christina receives the first wounds of Christ, the nails through the fists. She is accused of suicide and is sent to a Catholic hospital where she will be watched. The doctors inform the Arch Bishop of that sector about Christina?s unusual and curious wounds. The Arch Bishop then notifies Catholic Law, Marshall Dumat. He questions Christina, but does not interact too much. [b]Note-[/b] Alright, I?m sure this is going to be a bit difficult, but please give it a shot. The only people posting will be Arika and Dmitri_Dragoon. One post from each. Arika will post first. If you have any problems/questions, PM me.[/size]