Post by Raziela the Mute on Sept 10, 2011 20:04:11 GMT -5
real big fan of yours ,
"happiness hit her like a train on a track…
...coming towards her stuck still no turning back"[/center]
quite the joke to you ,
[/color][/font][/center]"so, hon. welcome to the distorted world.
what's your name?"
"…" She sighs and picks up a pen that was lying on the table and a discarded piece of paper. After eying the man with some distaste she writes, with a flourish, the answer to the question and begrudgingly turns it around to him so that it can be read. It reads: Raziela, the Mute Swordswoman [she has no surname but may take one later on in the course of the RP]
"ey, that's pretty cute. how old are you, and where are ya affiliated?"
"…” Turning over the paper, she writes the following: October 13th, 23, and I suppose I am what they call a Lawful Neutral [over the course of the RP she will become Chaotic Neutral].
"young'un, are you? well then, i can deal. so... how bout you and me go on a date?"
“!?!" Raziela’s eyes narrow at the man for a second and she frowns with something that could not be mistaken for anything but disgust. She writes: Disgusting. I will not, nor will I ever go on a date with you. You are more than likely old enough to be my father; do you always prey on young women? Either way, it does not matter, I like my men younger, muscularand well endowedand sensitive.And in the rare case that a woman catches my eyes, petite and curvy... You are none of the aforementioned.You do not look like my type. [Bi-sexual, but currently in denial]
"aaand.. what is your specialization?"
"…” She smiles possibly for the first [and last time] in this interview and places her sword across her knees before writing on what little space is left on the paper: I also practice a small amount of healing magic. Perhaps in the future I will expand on my abilities. [Physical]
"cool, cool. i guess youre a little talented filly? i like 'em like that."
"!" Raziela unsheathes her sword and points it at him with a smile.
kissed me in your room ,
[/color][/font][/center]"and on to the second section! how tall are you, exactly?"
"?" Raziela gives an inaudible sigh, as if to say “Really? There’s more?”. She sheathes her sword and places it across her knees again, then she locates another piece of paper and writes: 6 feet
"ah, just three inches taller. hm. so, what's under your clothes? not that i wont find out for myself."
Raziela stands, unsheathes and drives the sword through the table separating the pair of them with a smile. Eying the man for a few moments, she reseats herself and crosses her legs. Waiting for the interviewer to collect himself, and clean up whatever that horrid smelling liquid that had saturated his pants and chair, she catches a glimpse of her reflection in a mirror. Despite herself, she mentally answers the question. She was quite tall, her body lean due to years of training it. For some strange reason, she was not too wiry or muscular, the women of her kind never were. She had quite a nice bust, if she could say so of herself, good hips too. Subconsciously, her hands skim her thighs.
"okay, sorry. let's talk about some.. non - crude things? what's your personal style?"
Raziela shrugged, she’d never actually thought about it much. Quite skimpy according to the tastes of some she supposed. She glanced down at her blue and black dress; it slightly resembled lingerie now that she thought of it. It looked like her interviewer had noticed a long time ago. Now she wanted a jacket. Her eyes went lower to the equally skin tight material of the miniscule leather shorts she wore, barely visible under the hem of her dress. The interviewer’s eyes dropped as well. She felt dirty and a tiny bit pissed. You’d think after a person soiled themselves they’d learn a lesson… Finally her eyes landed on her boots, standard issue to all swordswomen. She felt like going back to normal military issued clothes "..." This is what she wrote as a response: Like this. After today it may change. [Fun fact: The FC does actually parade around in nothing but lingerie, modified description for Raziela]
"hey, you look like that celebrity... what was the name...?"
Raziela blinked. “?” Her response: Kaine, of Nier? I suppose so.
"right! i remember now. you look just like them. except better, heh heh..."
"..."
replied i love you too ,
[/color][/font][/center]
"soo, do you like or dislike anything?"
Sighing heavily, she flipped over the paper and began to write. When she was done, she pushed the paper across to him. It read:
Currently I dislike you, very much. I also have a serious distaste for people that lack proper manners, and prying. Also, I happen not to like small children, they make me nervous; weddings, having my hand forced, evil people and behaviors, misers and generally stingy or cheap persons, and lecherous behavior. Oh, cheaters. I hate cheaters, in relationships and anything else. I like punctuality, swordplay, beauty in all its forms and music. I also have a fondness for youths (they are not as unpredictable and hard to handle as children under 13), rainy days, expensive things – like jewelry, I also like knives and swords of any kind, I have quite the collection! Oh, and you cannot forget cultured events, like balls and dances, art exhibitions and the like. ~
"ohmyjonas, me too! wow, thats such a coincidence. so have any dirty habits or secrets?"
Raziela quirks an eyebrow as if to say: "Doubtful. And if I had any dirty habits or secrets, I would not tell you.” Like how she tended to chew on her bottom lip when she was deep in thought of unsure of something, or her tendency to be attracted to those of her own gender. No one needed to know about the latter, that was for sure.
"coolness, yo. umm. home dawg. anyways. describe yourself."
"?..." Describe myself? What have I been doing this entire time? Amusing you? I am a no nonsense type of person. I like perfection, or having things as close to perfection as they can get. I like planning and I do not like going into battle or anything of the sort blindly. I like things being as they should, especially in a societal sense. I am patient, though when I am finally angered I tend to go a tad overboard when evening the scores. I try very hard to maintain this calm, but I fail as often as I am successful. But you should know that already, something about you seems to bring out the worst in me...
"like dude! we're so compatible..."
"..." She mouths the words: “Not likely.”
a little bit insecure ,
[/color][/font][/center]"okay, let's rush through this. i'm thinking dancing? then, we can talk about rooms."
"…" She writes: I am going to jail. I swear I am going to kill you before this is through.
"shh, if my boss knew about our secret romance... so. what's your heritage?"
You are either completely daft or suicidal… And why should I be quiet? I can’t even speak! Whatever. I am Elvaan, I come from San d’Oria. My father died long ago, but he was a good man and a noble soldier. My mother was a scholar, she passed away a few years go. No one quite knows what killed her. I suppose it was just her time. I never knew my grandparents and I am estranged from my younger brother. Apparently, he blames me for mother’s death – why, I have no idea. Perhaps because I was away at the time she passed. What sense blaming me makes I have yet to figure out…
"wow, your family would love me! have anyone else in your family?"
"… … …" Everyone is dead to me you blithering idiot! Well, save my brother as I’ve already told you, but he may as well be dead. I have no pets, and I don’t think I want any. Are we done yet?
"oh. sounds horrible. haha. anything else important happen in your life?"
"…” Well, a few months ago, I began training under this monk, training my mind and spirit instead of just my body. You see, balance of the mind, body and soul is very important. I was trying to expand my mental capacities so I could achieve the skill of telepathy, something my old master had achieved long ago. I was finally beginning to make some headway, it was quite exhilarating! And then, why… I can’t remember much before or after I started the training. How strange. It looks like I will have to redouble my training when I resume… Anyway, the next thing I know, I’m in this strange place called Alexandria. Hmph. Wonder how I even got there…
"hey, look! we're done. so, i would ask you on a second date, but i'm about to explode. no, really. please step back."
Raziela smiles brightly and leaves, mouthing the following as she walks out the door. "Good. I hope you die in pain."
of this mistreatment ,
[/color][/font][/center][/justify]name.Bri-Bri
age. 19
rp experience. 4 years
rules. Thundaga
rp sample.It was annoying, having no one that truly understood your way of ‘speaking’ anymore..
Here in Alexandria, no one she’d met thus far understood her bastardized version of sign language. Well, no one understood anything beyond the basics of anything to do with food – which consisted of her rubbing her tummy or pretending to shovel something into her mouth, and of course somewhere to sleep – which involved her making a pillow out of her hands and resting her head on it. It was truly annoying, this unfortunate situation of being mute. Her mind flashed back to that kind monk that had been helping her. Again that familiar thrill of excitement buzzed in her chest as she recalled the first time she had ever heard herself ‘say’ something out loud telepathically, it was the very first and only time she’d heard her own voice outside the confines of her mind. She had only managed to ‘speak’ one word: “Shit!”. Ha, not very eloquent and certainly not the first thing she had wanted herself and her teacher to hear, but she had been so thrilled and pleased with herself. It really didn’t matter to her that it had occurred only because she had stubbed her toe… Ok, maybe it did a little, but she had SAID something!
A smile played her features as she walked aimlessly down the streets of… Oh crap, she’d done it again. ‘Shit. I’m lost….’ Raziela shrugged and resumed walking. ‘Ah well, it doesn’t matter. I have money, so I can buy a map of some sort.’ But that was a problem in itself. The shopkeepers here tended to be extraordinarily stupid. ‘Just wonderful, I get to have another breakfast ordeal!’ The ordeal in question was enough to give her an aneurism just from thinking about it. It had taken the nice man only a few seconds to figure out that the white-haired woman had wanted to eat. It had taken him a good fifteen minutes of Raziela pointing at the things she wanted only for him to agree that: “Yes, that is a menu.” And to top it all off, add: “But what do you want to eat?” Hopefully whoever sold maps around here had a higher IQ; otherwise this would be yet another painful experience.
She still wanted breakfast
