Post by Ethan on Feb 25, 2007 9:41:07 GMT -5
1. What you would like to be called: Ethan
2. What you tend to roleplay: fantasy, sci-fi
3. Do you have any limits(romance, violence, swearing)?: Mostly swearing and heavy sexual content. I don't like typing words like 'fuck', 'bastard', 'bitch', etc. but i don't mind 'hell' or 'damn'.
4. How long have you been roleplaying for?: ohhh about 4 years
5. Codeword: freedom
6. A sample of your roleplaying. An intro will do. Say what genre it is:
(fantasy)
Ethan clutched the small dragon statue in his hands. The smooth, carved wood beneath his fingers was crafted into such a perfect likeness of a dragon he was sure it would come alive. And now, here he was doing what he'd always believed it could do. Transform him.
The boy was only about twelve. His ragged clothes, scruffy hair, and scarred body told of many encounters of poor ending. He was poor, and had found the statue by chance. But he now thought it was fate. His flight from the town guards had led him to this empty wasteland around him.
He gazed around the landscape and frowned. Empty, barren and dead. Not even worth calling a desert. Volcanoes roared in the distance. He knew his only chance of survival was what he'd always believed was in the statue. A magical power of some sort.
Then he felt energy slowly creep across his hands as his skin flaked and glittering gold scales appeared beneath the flaking skin. Looking down he saw the statue had vanished, absorbed into his being. He also noted his finger nails lengthening and sharpening. He was becoming a dragon, and he hoped he'd become one quickly.
2. What you tend to roleplay: fantasy, sci-fi
3. Do you have any limits(romance, violence, swearing)?: Mostly swearing and heavy sexual content. I don't like typing words like 'fuck', 'bastard', 'bitch', etc. but i don't mind 'hell' or 'damn'.
4. How long have you been roleplaying for?: ohhh about 4 years
5. Codeword: freedom
6. A sample of your roleplaying. An intro will do. Say what genre it is:
(fantasy)
Ethan clutched the small dragon statue in his hands. The smooth, carved wood beneath his fingers was crafted into such a perfect likeness of a dragon he was sure it would come alive. And now, here he was doing what he'd always believed it could do. Transform him.
The boy was only about twelve. His ragged clothes, scruffy hair, and scarred body told of many encounters of poor ending. He was poor, and had found the statue by chance. But he now thought it was fate. His flight from the town guards had led him to this empty wasteland around him.
He gazed around the landscape and frowned. Empty, barren and dead. Not even worth calling a desert. Volcanoes roared in the distance. He knew his only chance of survival was what he'd always believed was in the statue. A magical power of some sort.
Then he felt energy slowly creep across his hands as his skin flaked and glittering gold scales appeared beneath the flaking skin. Looking down he saw the statue had vanished, absorbed into his being. He also noted his finger nails lengthening and sharpening. He was becoming a dragon, and he hoped he'd become one quickly.
