[M]Drug Me Up - Printable Version +- 'Souls IPB Archive (November 2007–October 2012) (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb) +-- Forum: Dead IC (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=110) +--- Forum: Dead Topics (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=21) +--- Thread: [M]Drug Me Up (/showthread.php?tid=26489) |
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- Amy Sunders - 03-31-2012 [html]
[html] OOC April 3, Amy has decided to crack the alcohol open and get old fashioned drunk. inviting the pack to join her. as a side note, dhiate will be getting drugged in this thread, so there will be a very violent amy when she finds her pet high. will post again april 10 Word Count → 000 Returning from good trades always cheered Amy up. That buoyant feeling of success, enveloping her around, it made everything better. Having a place to return to only emphasized that feeling of work done well. It wasn't home though, and she wasn't with her family. There was no one she could share what she'd been up to with, no one to fight with, no way to increase her standing from so far away. The occasional letters that she sent overseas just weren't enough, not even sure if they were delivered safely due to how chancy travel by sea was.
.amyhour b {font-weight:bold; color:#fc8cff; letter-spacing:1px; text-shadow:#31224b 0px 0px 1px;} .amyhour p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 13px; margin:0px;} .amyhour {margin:0px auto; width:480px; background-color:#ac69fc; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/CeqhO.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #30383c; padding: 290px 0px 3px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#31224b; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} .amyhour .wordcount {color:#fc8cff; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dashed #31224b; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px; text-shadow:#31224b 0px 0px 1px;} .amyhour .ooc {font-style:italic; font-size:11px;} .amyhour p b:before { content: open-quote; } .amyhour p b:after {content: close-quote; } </style>[/html] - Dhiate Drako - 04-01-2012 [html] OOC here! Dhiate trailed after his Mistress and fellow slave slowly. It was all he could do not to just stop and gawk. Despite being a member of Anathema, Amy had never taken him inside the caverns. This was his first visit. Dhiate's blue gray eyes were wide as he struggled to take everything in. He glanced over at his companions only to realize that they were extremely far away. Sprinting to catch up, he almost ran into Raoth as he struggled to stop. Dhiate fought with himself, an inner battle of whether to speak or to remain silent. He longed to express his amazement at this place, yet he knew the consequences of speaking out of turn. Raoth was a perfect example of it. The young coyote had no tongue. Poor Raoth had lost it whe Amy realized he couldn't silence himself. After a few seconds more, Dhiate decided against speech. In his awestruck trance, Dhiate didn't notice that Amy had stopped to settle down, and he certainly didn't notice the outstretched leg and that look of sadistic joy. All of this together resulted in the small male landing face first on the ground. He rolled a little bit before he stopped and turned to Raoth who was placing his bundles on the ground. Dhiate was prepared for him to look up. Big blue eyes shone with hurt and his slender body was sprawled across the cavern floor. Dhiate mimed a struggle to get up, but when he was on his feet, he turned his back on Raoth. He hunched his shoulders and crossed his arms as if trying to hide something. Guilt ridden, the coyote started forward only to stop beneath the cold look that Dhiate tossed over his shoulder. Lower lip puckered, Dhiate pouted and that darker canine struggled to understand. His amber eyes were beginning to wince in apology, but that was all shot down as Dhiate gave up the act and sneered at the younger. One point for Dhiate. <style type="text/css"> .fre2cai b {font-weight:bold; color:#e8e0b1; text-shadow:#35311a 1px 1px 2px;} .fre2cai p {padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; text-indent:0px;} .fre2cai {margin:0px auto; width:500px; background-color:#a29c77; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/t2ePS.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #928c69; padding:235px 0px 5px 0px; font-family:georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#e4e1cc; line-height:16px; text-align:justify; border-radius:10px;} .fre2cai .ooc {font-style:italic; font-size:11px; text-align:center;} .fre2cai p b:before { content: open-quote; } .fre2cai p b:after {content: close-quote; } </style> [/html] - Amy Sunders - 04-11-2012 [html] OOC here. Word Count → 000 The sounds of someone tripping brought Amy's attention back from the meat she was cooking. Dhiate was flat out on the ground, Raoth innocently placing the packages where they had been. Amy was fully willing to take Raoth apart right then and there, but she decided to wait instead. She couldn't baby him all the time after all. The act that came out was absolutely gorgeous. Amy wanted to applaud, simply enjoying the show. Brilliant, using his body like that. It didn't even end there, the coyote trailing after Dhiate to apologize. With a true show of cruelty Dhiate shoved Raoth away, revealing his act in a cold sneer.
.amyhour b {font-weight:bold; color:#fc8cff; letter-spacing:1px; text-shadow:#31224b 0px 0px 1px;} .amyhour p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 13px; margin:0px;} .amyhour {margin:0px auto; width:480px; background-color:#ac69fc; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/CeqhO.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #30383c; padding: 290px 0px 3px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#31224b; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} .amyhour .wordcount {color:#fc8cff; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dashed #31224b; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px; text-shadow:#31224b 0px 0px 1px;} .amyhour .ooc {font-style:italic; font-size:11px;} .amyhour p b:before { content: open-quote; } .amyhour p b:after {content: close-quote; } </style>[/html] - Dhiate Drako - 04-12-2012 [html] OOC here! Dhiate whipped around at the sound of his mistress's applaud. Grinning from ear to ear, he restrained himself from sticking his tongue out like a child to Raoth. Such childish behavior was not suited for one in Amy's presence. He nodded, acknowledging his mistress's praise. I will do better if there is ever a next time mistress. That was the most he could promise. He wished he could swear he would do whatever she wished perfectly, but of course that was impossible. Dhiate watched as wolves began to crowd close, and his smile slowly slipped into one less childish, more sly than anything. He strutted over next to Raoth, but far from the fire as possible, and sat down. His braid landed by him with a soft plunk as he crossed his legs and pulled out a few threads that he had learned how to make brilliant bracelets with. If you wove threads of different colors together, and then wove those strands together into a bracelet, it gave the illusion of the colors fading into one another. Of course this only worked if you picked the right colors, and at the moment Dhiate was working with steel gray, navy blue, cobalt blue, black, and silver. It was beautiful as he twisted the threads together in a pattern only he saw. <style type="text/css"> .fre2cai b {font-weight:bold; color:#e8e0b1; text-shadow:#35311a 1px 1px 2px;} .fre2cai p {padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; text-indent:0px;} .fre2cai {margin:0px auto; width:500px; background-color:#a29c77; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/t2ePS.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #928c69; padding:235px 0px 5px 0px; font-family:georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#e4e1cc; line-height:16px; text-align:justify; border-radius:10px;} .fre2cai .ooc {font-style:italic; font-size:11px; text-align:center;} .fre2cai p b:before { content: open-quote; } .fre2cai p b:after {content: close-quote; } </style> [/html] - Alduin - 04-16-2012 [html] `` D I S T U R B I A nothing heard, nothing said, can’t even speak about it; on my life, on my head, don’t wanna think about it
Word count: 375 // +3 points Hope you don’t mind me throwing Alduin in here n.n The smell of cooked meat wafted through the air in Alduin’s den. He had been asleep, taking advantage of the quieter moments of the day, but he woke upon catching the delectable scent. His hands rose slowly to his eyes to rub away the grogginess that kept them from opening, and his massive body lifted gracefully from the bed of furs as he yawned, stretching slowly as he moved to peek out of his room’s entrance. His eyes lit up with excitement as he noticed a few members of the pack gathered in the common room. He didn’t know what was happening, but he was quick to leave his den and join them. As he approached the group, a smile danced playfully on his lips and his tail swayed eagerly behind him. He didn’t recognize most of the wolves in the area, but he greeted them as if he did, smiling and nodding to them with an unfailing kindness. When his nose finally led him to the source of the delightful smells, his grin widened and he took a piece to sample with an appreciative nod to the coyote handling the operation. He chewed the morsel slowly, taking in every bit of its flavor. Upon finishing the bit, he looked around to find a somewhat familiar face. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, miss,” he greeted as he walked over to Amy. “Is something special happening today?” He took a moment to peer around her and noticed the carvings and fabrics she was setting up. He felt awestruck, for the colors of the fabrics were vivid and brilliant; and the carvings had been handled with incredible expertise. The hard work and dedication placed into each piece was evident. “Those are wondrous works of art you have,” he praised. “I only wish I had something equally as beautiful to trade.” “Get shiny!” she exclaimed. “Now!” Alduin tapped her nose gently and shook his head ‘no’. Amelia looked at him in disbelief before sticking her tongue out disapprovingly and going limp on his shoulder. Spoil sport. release me from this curse i’m in; trying to maintain, but i’m struggling. put on your pretty lies, you’re in the city of wonder
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