IP: 204.108.158.210
Posted on June 4, 2010 at 10:03:15 PM by m a r i n t h
Name: Marinth
Gender: Female vAppearance: Marinth has crazy blue hair, and the palest skin possible. If your imagination is good enough, you can see the length of veins trailing through her arms. She’s frail, tiny, and easily broken. Her eyes are a softer shade of blue than her hair, and her lips are full. Defects: hemophilia Age: sixteen Played by me, oakie! Sample Post: Douleur lured the squirrel closer, his white eyes enticing the creature that stood afore him. The poor soaked squirrel half squeaked mostly whimpered. The curses had been rough on the little animal. With gaining trust, it squeaked, chattered, and scrambled onto Douleur’s palm. A smile pulled at his lips as he gazed at the delicate and ambient squirrel. It was. . . cute. He lifted his arm slowly and carefully, cautious as to not unbalance the frail creature. Douleur glanced into its eyes and smiled as he breathes a name, “Trahison”. The little squirrel looked enchanted as it gazed back into the white eyes of the faerie. Rain was always calming, unless your island is flooded and it just adds more rain. Douleur sighed; his steps carried him to a decadent tree that was still full of life. He placed Trahison inside and grimaced as the claws bit into his hand as the squirrel ambled inside. Laughing it off, he wiped the fresh blood on the cotton pants he wore and continued to walk in the rain. These curses were interesting, but mostly scary. He could tell where he’d lost weight, the skin pulling tight around his hands, feet, and jaw line. However that did not keep him from being muscular. The muscles still rippled in his back, just under taut and malnourished skin. Douleur always believed ladies and children first--- even when it came to survival. Whatever food he’d found, he’d given it to women and children. Entirely noble, somewhat stupid. He had to find new vines to hold his trousers upon his waist, which only helped minimally: he was still pulling his pants up every hundred yards or so. It was slightly horrid, not knowing what the fourth curse would be. Everything else had been so simple to figure out—at least the third curse. Douleur stood waiting for the curse, when he realized he couldn’t remember what he named the squirrel. That never happened, Douleur always remembered everything, it was one of those fancy-schmancy traits of his. A grimace spread across his supple lips as he stared at the ground. Where was he going? Did anyone know? Douleur stumbled slightly, caught off guard by the slowly vanishing memories. How old was he? He said on his haunches and played with the hem of his pants as he tried to remember his age. Eighteen? No, nineteen. Age is okay, memories were there, he just needed to search for them. Standing, Douleur started walking. Confused ,dazed, but not entirely affected by the curse. He had ditched his shirt before playing with the squirrel, and his shoulder muscles rippled as he put his hands on his head while he walked, elbows splayed outwards. He had entirely no idea where he was going, or what he was doing. He felt like a kid when he got a concussion and lost half of his memories and didn’t know who he was. In his head, he knew somewhere that he was supposed to know something, something that would help him figure out why his memory was failing him. This was not supposed to happen until he was like, 100 or something! How close was 100 years? How old was he? Douleur was shocked to find he didn’t know the answer anymore. He stumbled into a corridor, placing his bare feet on the cold stones, they felt good. When had he lost his shoes? Douleur ran a hand through his hair, he was so confused. Within moments, he ambled into a female. Who was she? Did he know her? The memories were disappearing faster as he realized he had no idea who he was. Fuck. “H-hello.” Talking felt, out of place. The words felt weird on his tongue. “Please, m-mi-miss. Can you heellp me? I-I. . . . I seem to have for-get? Who I am,” he stumbled over the words, yet his voice still carried a charming tone. Good to know he was still charming even when he had no idea what was going on. Douleur faltered and stumbled, falling to his knees. What in the world was going on? |