throw your body into the sea

Hey you guys...
Guess who's finally freakin' sixteen.
 
(spoiler: it's me)
 
oh boy do I remember being on here when I was twelve. mhm, I sure do. and lemme tell you, those days will not be missed, my friends!

@bricks-and-mortar
sorry that took forever, toots.
 
A girl lives at home with a single dad who has become a drunk ever since her mother passed away. He has been violent and has beaten her on several occasions, and one day she runs away from home after a beating to hide behind the dumpsters outside her school. One of her teachers had stayed late to grade papers and walks out the backway to dump his trash in the bins where he finds her curled up in a ball, bruised and bleeding, tears streaking her face. He immediately takes her back to his house to clean her up, feed her, and give her a place to stay for the night until she opens up and tells him what happened. His son comes home from a party later that night and finds her sleeping on the couch, entirely confused as he asks his parents what's going on. They fill him in and he immediately assumes the "big brother" role in taking care of her when she wakes up the next day and every day after at school, insisting on taking her everywhere she needs to be (except for home where he father is). The girl is confused about why he's treating her this way (but isn't complaining) because he is one of the most popular boys in their grade and has never said a word to her outside of school projects before she was brought into his home. What happens? Will her father find her? Will they fall for each other?
 
Rosie —
I woke with my head pounding in my skull. The image of my father's fists burned my mind, him angry and drunk as we drove home from his sister's house. He rose his voice at the same time as his anger and before I knew it, I was being shoved out of the car, bruised and bleeding as the rain poured down. I didn't know what to do. We were only minutes from home, but there was no way I could go back. So I ran to the safest place I knew.
 
As I looked around the living room not a spark of recognition struck me. Where was I?

Hi hi hi hihihihhihih. I haven't been on in forever. You know, school and shit. Lack of motivation. Whatever.
 
BUT HEY! I've got exams this week and after that I'm finished! Sosososo, I thought it'd be the perfect time to make a roleplay. I've only attempted to create one roleplay and it flopped, so I'll of course need some assistance and direction (a co-mod would be great!). Anyway, below is my idea. If you have any suggestions that would be wonderful.
 
• • •
 
Welcome to elegance. The moment you entered the gates of Goldman’s Casino and Hotel you knew you were amongst the winners, the rich, and the elite. This is where the level of promiscuity is high, the risks run deep, and the guests have no clue what is beneath Floor One.
 
Leave your morals at the door, baby.
You won’t need them here.
 
Here’s how it works: Goldman runs it all. You work what you work, you do as you’re told, and you won’t end up on the list of the Good Men, Goldman’s Hitman Hounds.
 
Here some advice:
Think twice.
Look over your shoulder.
Remember who you work for.
 
• • •
 
Basically this big casino deal, right? Ran by good ol' Mister Goldman. Eventually some shit may go down with him, but for the time being it'll be Free Play, y'know? Play as a guest, bartender, cook, hit man, entertainer, prostitute, security, blah, blah, blah.
 
SOSOSOSOSOOSOSO, it's not so grand but yeah. Help me. Comment if you'd join. Tag some peeps. Give me advice if you've got it. Sorry about the tags if you're annoyed & fussy that we don't know each other—it's advertisement, baby.

I was tagged but I lost the set.
so. whoops.
 
I've been under such a shit mood lately.
I bought a birthday card to cheer myself up.
I haven't figured out who to give it to yet, though.
 
I sorta abandoned the roleplays I was in.
sorry about that. and you @brutal-simplicity,
I'm under such a block. I'm sorry boo.
I really need to rediscover my love for Avey and
Valerie, but dskfjlslJ:! everytime I try to write for
them I fart out. if you're still willing to deal with
my bullshit-fuckery, I'd like to rp with ya, lover.

MOLLY
 
My gum popped with a satisfying bang as if it were
imitating the sound faintly coming from the gas
station I sat parked in front of. With my feet on the
dashboard I allowed my arm to hang out the
window, grateful that there was at least a breeze
to weaken this California heat.
 
"Took you a long enough." I teased gently as the
car door opened. "Didn't your mother ever teach
you not to leave a lady waitin'?" I am, however,
no lady.
 
@saltedpeanuts
sorry about the wait, toots.
Will you make and start the other set?

wow wow WOW
 
"Vacant Moans" /•/ O'Death
favorite song, weeeeeee.
okay, here are the lyrics:
 
All of my sins just burn away
Left longing for returning days
Saw spiders reaching for my bed
Left home never returned again
 
I plant my feet
I left the ground
I sought the wind too
I fought the sound
 
All my all my all my own
Could have grasped a vacant moan
Then the hush of violence
Crushed the pride of naked wind
Dance the dance of broken veins
By the hands of all attained
Look what's left of my bled heart
Left before you from the start
 
I trust these words won't save my fall
Won't bother her from last night's ball
We barely spoke and now we're dead
Left maybe from this world instead
 
I plant my feet
I left the ground
I sought the wind too
I fought this out
 
Rip out the leather of her nice corvette
Leave it on the shoulder faced away from the street
Bother all the fathers make sure they're asleep
Bleed all the spiders taste their bones for a week
And if that corpse decided to weep
Chop it up in thirds and let her face recede
Sip from the liver that kept her wet
Wrap it up in folded sheets somewhere she slept
Bother all the fathers make sure they're asleep
Bleed all the spiders taste their bones for a week
 
All my all my all my own
Could have grasped a vacant moan
Then the hush of violence
Crushed the pride of naked wind
Dance the dance of broken veins
By the hands of all attained
Left before you all the same
Broken from the start

I sat perched on the branch of the tree, gun in
hand. I personally was more of a hand-to-hand
sort of gal, my father's machete always being a
favorite of mine in the presence of these undead
bastards. It was more personal.
 
Right on cue, the sounds of a droning moan
pierced the cool night air. My eyes grazed the
ground but no other seemed to want to take it.
Hell, where were the others even? Near, sure.
 
I checked that the safety on the gun was on
before I secured the strap, swinging the gun
around so that it was out of my way, it's weight
on my back. I climbed down the tree quickly,
withdrawing the machete from its sheath.
 
Did it have eyes like mine? Hair like mine?
A mouth like my father's, a nose like mom's?
I gripped the handle tight, taking a few steps.
I could almost see its face. I could almost—
 
A shot rung out, a bullet splitting through the skull.
 
A string of swears left my lips. "That was my kill,
asswipe," I hissed at the figure with the scope still
to their eye. I let out a low growl as I reminded
myself to chill. Chill.
 
Hands clutched into fists, I walked to the figure,
tilting its head with my foot. No, it wasn't him.
I brought my machete down hard, watching as the
head rolled off. "No chances, right?" I muttered
quietly to myself as I bent down to check the
pockets.
 
Others on night patrol:
Simeon, Emma, Evan,
Keenan, Ethan, Layla, Adrian

if need me to change anything, just holla~
 
Name: Liberty (Libby) Wales
Age: sixteen
 
Fears: Finding her brother, the dark, her dreams
Bio: Libby is one of the newer additions. She found the camp covered in blood and sobbing. Keenan put the barrel to her head—“Let’s just put the damn thing out of her misery,”—when Emma stopped him. No bites, just blood. Libby’s a natural fighter, and with her father’s machete she tore her way to the camp, her brother sticking close.
 
After an ambush, the boy was nowhere in sight.
Libby is occasionally snappy, but tries to keep her tongue under control. She enjoys hunting, killing, and scouting. Her favorite place to be is high in the treetops, searching amongst the worn faces for the familiar one that haunts her dreams.
 
Secrets: She’s trying to gather enough skills in secret so that she can one day head out on her own for no other purpose than to find Chance. She’s still working up the nerve to tell Emma.
Friends/Family/Crushes/Enemies: Her brother, Chance, is out there somewhere—dead or alive. Libby tends to favor London because he reminds her of Chance. Same age, same personality. The works.
Sitemodel: Brynja
 
Name: Nathaniel Weaver
Age: seventeen
 
Fears: Death
Bio: Nathaniel regrets most of his life. Sometimes he can tear himself away from the past and be happy for a moment, but he just crashes. Hard. He secretly wants—needs—somebody to make him forget the things he once did. He needs to, somehow, move past. To cover the shit he feels he sometimes comes off as a jerk. Sorry ‘bout that.
 
All in all, Nathaniel keeps alive. He does what he can to keep fighting. He’s sold drugs to financially keep afloat. Joined a gang for protection, had to kill a man. He’s not proud of the things he’s done. Not at all.
 
Secrets: Previously a thug, yay.
Friends/Family/Crushes/Enemies: Bit of a crush on Layla (@nodawn-noday hey gurl hay).
Sitemodel: Ashley Stymest

stray kitten let me finally pet it.
ah ah ah ah this is the definition of joy!
 
I missed the bus whoop.
I am also sick whoop.
kill me whoop.
ok
 
I really want to read and sleep and eat at the same
time why am I not a master multi-tasker? damn me.

@squid-vicious
hiya lovely.