Post by aerdeu on Jul 11, 2006 13:16:33 GMT -5
1. What you would like to be called: skye. or skey.
2. What you tend to roleplay: a lot of fantasy -- modern, perhaps futuristic or medieval.
3. Do you have any limits(romance, violence, swearing)?: no limits. (:
4. How long have you been roleplaying for?: years. like, 2-4 years. D:
5. A sample of your roleplaying. An intro will do. Say what genre it is.
modern (could-be fantasy).
Smoking weed was almost as satisfying as when he'd receive a wad of cash for sleeping with someone, anyone -- a woman, a man, a transsexual. Anyone. Vwan was satisfied with being a prostitute. It meant he couldn't be hurt by emotions. It meant he could work automatically, he'd been so used to working hard to please that he didn't have to work as hard anymore. It was lovely. And for the pleasure he gave, he'd received a heavenly amount -- $40 or more -- and used it to buy drugs from dealers, or cigarettes, or to go to a bar.
He'd also been lucky to have no family, not that it affected him in any way. He'd run away when he was fourteen, living in Europe, taking his father's savings to go wherever he pleased. It was a big adventure to him, and whenever he thought of his adventure, he smirked at the thought of how much of a bastard he was, to leave his father desolate. Too bad, so sad.
One thing he'd have to thank his parents, for, too: their genes.
Because of his good looks and manipulative charm, few or many had fallen for him, and many or few had payed him more than enough for his company in bed.
But why should Vwan care for other's feelings? He was a tool; emotionless, automatic, and useful.
2. What you tend to roleplay: a lot of fantasy -- modern, perhaps futuristic or medieval.
3. Do you have any limits(romance, violence, swearing)?: no limits. (:
4. How long have you been roleplaying for?: years. like, 2-4 years. D:
5. A sample of your roleplaying. An intro will do. Say what genre it is.
modern (could-be fantasy).
Smoking weed was almost as satisfying as when he'd receive a wad of cash for sleeping with someone, anyone -- a woman, a man, a transsexual. Anyone. Vwan was satisfied with being a prostitute. It meant he couldn't be hurt by emotions. It meant he could work automatically, he'd been so used to working hard to please that he didn't have to work as hard anymore. It was lovely. And for the pleasure he gave, he'd received a heavenly amount -- $40 or more -- and used it to buy drugs from dealers, or cigarettes, or to go to a bar.
He'd also been lucky to have no family, not that it affected him in any way. He'd run away when he was fourteen, living in Europe, taking his father's savings to go wherever he pleased. It was a big adventure to him, and whenever he thought of his adventure, he smirked at the thought of how much of a bastard he was, to leave his father desolate. Too bad, so sad.
One thing he'd have to thank his parents, for, too: their genes.
Because of his good looks and manipulative charm, few or many had fallen for him, and many or few had payed him more than enough for his company in bed.
But why should Vwan care for other's feelings? He was a tool; emotionless, automatic, and useful.
