sure, just bring me up to speed
which one would you prefer?
the monster still attacking? still, don't know if I'd like that ^^
any idea what awesome thing to do in camping? I don't like the idea of torture
*smiles back* which rp?
not as much as I am.
*shakes head* like I said I needed to do something I had a headache when I got up I had to do dishes and then an act practice thing.
I thought it was the other way around you stopped talking on msn so I thought you didn't want to talk anymore
don't be are we still talking?
At first there was nothing, only darkness. Soon smells began to twist and blossom in the void. The first smells were of grass draped in a fine mist of dew. It was a calm smell, one of peace and tranquility. Next, next came the wind which heralded the return of feel and touch. Through a fluttler of eyelids, the final piece, sight, filled out the entire world into reality. Groaning, a young boy tangled his fingers into the ground, crushing the silken blades. Strange, the kid did not remember grass being there before. Looking around, the boy took in his surroundings. It was a forest, a lush one at that. Trees grew taller than the sky and everything seemed distorted, like looking through a blurred lens "Where am I?" murmured the boy, scratching his head. He didn't remember this, not a thing. All he could remember was that firing range. It was his birthday. The guy's were there. It was his birthday. He got off a headshot with that awesome pistol they wanted him to try. He remembered joking around and putting the barrel to his head and pulled the trigger. Then there was nothing, only this. It didn't make sense, none of this did. Wait, could he be dead? No way, not possible. That gun was empty, wasn't it? Before the thought could be entertained any longer, a searing pain went into the boy's arm. Screaming, he tossed and turned in an attempt to banish the agony. Suddenly, the pain vanished, leaving him panting in a cold sweat. He looked down at his arm. In light blue ink, a name was tattooed into his skin. If only he could read cursive. That way he'd know what it said. Without a moments hesitation, a force tugged on his arm, like an invisible hand that wanted to be a little more guiding than usual. Kicking and screaming, he was dragged off into the underbrush not knowing where he'd end up. ooc: hope this is good enough
HEY I gotta respond to 4-5 rp's at the same time one of them is required to be huge cut me some slack *rages*
lol alright alright just give me a sec
sorry dude cant in too many rp's
link me dude
I'll read it tommorow ok?
sure send it over
what are you, a type writer?
sure I'll be waiting
you start it we haven't even decided on anything
kay start talking then
