Deadline for Lalna and Rails Bros applications is the 9th of December,
Remember to email firstname.lastname@example.org if you’re interested!
Hello! If you’d like to be part of the Mobscast, we have some characters up for grabs.
Rails Bros: You can either have one or both
Email: email@example.com for an application
You don’t need to have rp experience, but writing experience is desired.
Have a sample of your writing available! We look forward to any and all participants! :)
How is everyone holding up? Any bad casualties?
Sips: He sighs and slumps a lottle in his chair. ‘It’s been tough. The city’s a total wreck but I guess that was all we could expect to happen.’ He pauses and runs a hand through his short hair with a heavy sigh. ‘As for casualties, Sjin’s the one I’m worried about. He somehow managed to get himself beat up real bad, the big dumdum.’
[Martyn]: “The Saplings are holding up the best they can. We’re still doing what we do best. Though we lost quite a few of them…” He sighs softly as he looks at the few that were getting ready to make their runs. “As long as I can keep what remains of them alive and safe then I’ll be golden…” He leans up against the wall as he thinks about his own mindset. “I’m holding up as well as I can. Doesn’t mean I haven’t stopped worrying about what might come next. I just hope that I’ll be able to keep Toby safe.”
[Sjin]: He can’t help the husked growl that escapes him, blue crystals fluttering over your features a moment “I do not believe that’s any of your business? But…nonetheless, everything is…holding up. That’s all I can say, as far as I know, everyone’s holding up. Mostly everyone, anyways, none of us needed that fucking hell hole planted in the middle of Mistral, but we’re thriving through it” a mindless sip from a cup of water indicates his bore to the conversing, lazy eyes closing “Now if you don’t mind, I got shit to do” he utters, returning to staring blank out of the window. Out onto Mistral.
Israphel: The pale man kept his eyes squarely on the wall ahead of him, not making any movement, besides the drumming of his fingers against the desk. His pale skin seemed white around the knuckles that gripped tightly the arm of his chair. “No one important.” He growled. “Just a fucking priest. Had nothing to do with this.” His secretary approached him, a hand settling on his shoulder. In a quick motion, he was out of his chair; a strike delivered across his associate’s jaw. “DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!” He shrieked, before he fell on the floor; his lungs unable to handle the strength needed to scream.
We’ll be having some character openings soon.
Keep your eyes open for a chance to join the blog!
Martyn: “What am I even doing?” He muttered aloud as he walked, cautiously through the streets. He’d received a message a day or so ago from a guy he thought he wouldn’t hear from again after what he’d done to him. Hell Martyn didn’t even know if this was a trap or not. Tonight could very well be his last night on this place because he was taking a chance. A bloody stupid chance. He paused at the corner as he looked up at the street names. He was just about there. The red matter district was a familiar place to Martyn. He’d come around here making runs and pickups for people quite a few times. Now was the first time he would be meeting someone specific here. He thought back on what the note had said. ‘I have an offer for you. One that you might find will benefit you and your Saplings. P.' He had almost wanted to ignore it but he couldn't. He was curious as to what this offer was. Soon enough he was in front of the building where they were to meet. He reached knocking three times on the door and then let out a low bird like whistle just as he was instructed to do before he opened the door and headed inside.
Hello lovely followers! This blog will be taking a break on any major story line/arcs for a few months, BUT we will still be answering questions and doing little fic/rps from time to time.
I hope you enjoyed the Israphel arc, we all put a lot of effort into it.
It’s been fun! Don’t forget to summit art and questions! we love them!
Xephos: Xephos stands slowly, coughing to silence the murmur between all the people joining them. His eyes scan the mobsters sat in the dank and dingy room, remembering the last time they had a meeting like this filled him with dread but Ridge wasn’t there so perhaps it would be a little smoother. “There are a few things we need to discuss, foremost, we have become a danger to ourselves, ever since the explosion of Voxel the town, ourselves included have gone to the dogs. This needs to change. It needs to be fixed. Before we kill each other off and-” He pauses not wanting to say the name. “The identified terrorist who destroyed Voxel kills off the scraps.”
It was a Sips Co. man who had been hired to do the job, a rogue operator that was trying to make his life worth it now that the mob was all but disbanded. He parked his car before the marble building, windows dimly lit by candles. He could hear the people singing, the pipe organ blaring throughout the walls. He loaded his pistol, tucking it safely away in his rain coat, and exited his car. The rain was falling in sheets, dripping off of the brim of his bowler hat as he sprinted up the stairs into the church. Old ties had been dug up, and needed cutting.