Post by zianorak on Feb 18, 2008 18:54:55 GMT
Username:
Zi-anorak ((Gyronese)
How You Heard About Us:
I have recieved an invitation from the great Cartographer Engelbert.
Previous Roleplaying Experience:
On several forum R.P.'s and several on Neo. I have also been a part of a long term R.P. known as A.O.W.
Roleplay Example:
Cold. That is what ran through her mind constantly. Cold. She could not hold herself to get warm, though she tried to curl up. She remembered faintly what the word warmth was. She remembered sensations of heat, the sun on her face, the shade when it was warm. Here though there was no need for shade, because the sun never touched her fair skin.
Fair skin no longer, she thought, as she glanced down at her bare legs. They were covered in scars from the beatings, from the endless rub of the eneven wall. Her dark black hair no longer had the shine that made her brilliant in the light. She could see her ribs through the dirty cloth she called a shirt, the food never enough, but if there was, it was rotten. Why did they torture her still?
Cold. She shivered and wished with her entire being that she could escape. Escape, the word that held the most hope for her. A word that now brought up painful memories from the long hours of torture. They taunted her with the word, with false openings. Never had she endured so much pain, and never would she feel it again. They had left her alone, hopefully for forever.
They had broken her. That is what they had intended from the start. She had hung her head in defeat, they had seen the sparkle leave her eyes. They had destroyed her life, her memory, her name. She could no longer remember what to call herself. She tried to think of it now, she struggled with the word. She could see it there, blurred within her thoughts. They had beat the name right from her lips, she figured she would never hear it again. It seemed to flit about in her mind. Never stopping. She reached for it, and as it had the many other times she had come close, it slipped away. She would not give up. She would find her name, she would not let them win. She would remember just to spoil a victory so hatefully won.
She dug through her mind, through the memories of pain that her captors had filled her with. She pushed past the pain. There stood her more intimate thoughts, thoughts that not even these skilled turturors had been able to take away. She knew she would find it here. Memories of her father, killed so long ago. The loving way in which her father had whispered her name when she was crying. Kaila. She had found it. She remembered. They had not beat her. She had taken away their victory by the mere rememberence of her name. Slowly her head rose from the comfortable position of hanging, and straightened for the first time in weeks. She looked up and though no light shone within the dungeon, a fire gleamed from her eyes. Kaila. She had not forgotten, just gave in.
Cold. It did not bother her, nothing did at that moment. Kaila. She felt warmth, life, hope, just by saying the name in her head. Escape was once agian the bringer of hope. She looked up her scarred arms to the shackles binding her. She laughed, a strange sound she thought. The weeks of her weight swinging back and forth had taken its toll on the chain. It would break soon. Then, she thought, she would break them. Kaila. She would break them.
Zi-anorak ((Gyronese)
How You Heard About Us:
I have recieved an invitation from the great Cartographer Engelbert.
Previous Roleplaying Experience:
On several forum R.P.'s and several on Neo. I have also been a part of a long term R.P. known as A.O.W.
Roleplay Example:
Cold. That is what ran through her mind constantly. Cold. She could not hold herself to get warm, though she tried to curl up. She remembered faintly what the word warmth was. She remembered sensations of heat, the sun on her face, the shade when it was warm. Here though there was no need for shade, because the sun never touched her fair skin.
Fair skin no longer, she thought, as she glanced down at her bare legs. They were covered in scars from the beatings, from the endless rub of the eneven wall. Her dark black hair no longer had the shine that made her brilliant in the light. She could see her ribs through the dirty cloth she called a shirt, the food never enough, but if there was, it was rotten. Why did they torture her still?
Cold. She shivered and wished with her entire being that she could escape. Escape, the word that held the most hope for her. A word that now brought up painful memories from the long hours of torture. They taunted her with the word, with false openings. Never had she endured so much pain, and never would she feel it again. They had left her alone, hopefully for forever.
They had broken her. That is what they had intended from the start. She had hung her head in defeat, they had seen the sparkle leave her eyes. They had destroyed her life, her memory, her name. She could no longer remember what to call herself. She tried to think of it now, she struggled with the word. She could see it there, blurred within her thoughts. They had beat the name right from her lips, she figured she would never hear it again. It seemed to flit about in her mind. Never stopping. She reached for it, and as it had the many other times she had come close, it slipped away. She would not give up. She would find her name, she would not let them win. She would remember just to spoil a victory so hatefully won.
She dug through her mind, through the memories of pain that her captors had filled her with. She pushed past the pain. There stood her more intimate thoughts, thoughts that not even these skilled turturors had been able to take away. She knew she would find it here. Memories of her father, killed so long ago. The loving way in which her father had whispered her name when she was crying. Kaila. She had found it. She remembered. They had not beat her. She had taken away their victory by the mere rememberence of her name. Slowly her head rose from the comfortable position of hanging, and straightened for the first time in weeks. She looked up and though no light shone within the dungeon, a fire gleamed from her eyes. Kaila. She had not forgotten, just gave in.
Cold. It did not bother her, nothing did at that moment. Kaila. She felt warmth, life, hope, just by saying the name in her head. Escape was once agian the bringer of hope. She looked up her scarred arms to the shackles binding her. She laughed, a strange sound she thought. The weeks of her weight swinging back and forth had taken its toll on the chain. It would break soon. Then, she thought, she would break them. Kaila. She would break them.
