AllyAnn
New Member
I'm looking to join a roleplay that falls under the category of sci-fi or fantasy/supernatural, and my favorite sub-category is post-apocalyptic. Oddly enough, I don't care much for romantically-based roleplays. Romance in an rp is fine, but when the rp itself is centered around that category... just, no. Whether the rp is 1x1 or in a group, I couldn't care less.
I've been roleplaying for two years, but my writing skills are not astounding (not to say that I'm horrendous at writing, though). My style of writing is moderately descriptive, but I don't think it's too wordy. I do my best to keep my characters' personalities realistic, as well; I myself cannot stand it when a character's personality/abilities scream "mary sue".
Here's a sample of my writing. This was my first post in a post-apocalyptic roleplay, in which a girl has woken from consciousness after a nuclear meltdown. When I wrote this, I put myself in the character's place; they way she would probably think, act, feel, and behave in such a catastrophic situation.
+++++++++
Blood. Blood, everywhere. Screaming, groaning, pleading. A hand clawed at the cement. A dainty, bruised, and gashed-open hand. The skin color was almost hard to see past the dust, dirt, and blood. She pulled herself along, out of the crushing rubble that had hairline-fractured several of her bones-- and no doubt crushed a few-- out of the rubble of which dust was suffocating her to death. She wrenched free her left arm, now using her left hand to aid the right, painfully forcing her legs to push her along the cement, which was wet and warm with her blood. She wanted out. She was getting out. She bit her lip, a scream emitting from her throat as she pulled herself free from the ruins of her family's destroyed house. And now, she was met with cries of fear and agony, cries that were not her own, but everyone else's. The smell of burning smoke mixed with the metallic smell of blood invaded her nostrils, and it took all of her will-power not to vomit. There was another foul smell in the air, and it forced Noelle to push herself onto her scraped knees, ignoring the pain. She was breathing heavily as she looked up into the sky, which was still reddish from three days before.
And then she felt all the pain.
She couldn't stop the scream that ripped through the air from her lips like a knife, sobs wracking her body as she realized what had happened. She could now remember everything; her house was gone, her family was gone. And the wounds had now formed on her arms and legs and neck. There was blistering, searing, tearing pain as her hands grasped desperately at the wounds on her limbs, trying to make the horrendous feeling disappear. The air was burning her; burning her skin, her lungs, and everyone else. Radiation. Dreadful radiation. She stood. Oh, her ankle was sprained in the worst way, and she nearly fell over, but she stood, if even limply. She had to stand. For the rest of the city, she, at least, needed to stand above the ruins and defy the pain.
As she stood, she looked at her hands, before gazing back up at the sky, as if pleading for God to help her. She then turned her attention back to the city, and salty tears streamed down her cut and bruised face, mixing with the dirt and blood and leaving alabaster rivers on her cheeks. She found herself running towards a child just a few yards away, who was screaming for his parents, writhing on the ground with a broken leg and half of his body severely burned. Noelle knew this boy, and she collapsed onto her knees beside him, not finding any words to say as she stroked his face gently. "Shh..." Noelle whispered, fear gripping at her heart for him. What if the paramedics couldn't make it to him in time? What if there were no paramedics at all? "I-it'll be alri-ight," Noelle choked out, her throat tight as the boy calmed down some. So small and innocent, and he was caught in the midst of it all. How long had it been? His entire shin and calf were bruised and black, as if his leg had been broken for... days. Had been days already? It seemed like it was such a short while ago.
"Noelle?" Came the weak, soft voice of the boy laying at her knees. Noelle swallowed hard and nodded.
"Yes?"
"I want my mommy and daddy," he whispered pitifully. "my leg hurts so much." Noelle bit her cheek hard, tears brimming her eyelids.
"I'm... sure they'll be back soon," she replied quietly. She looked away for a brief moment, taking a deep breath before looking back at him. "How long has your leg been like this?"
"A long time," he replied, tears streaming down his face again as the sobs started once more. Noelle panicked.
"Isaac, Isaac," she started quickly, nervously, "Isaac, I need you to c-calm down... When did the meltdown happen?" The boy, Isaac, stopped his sobbing.
"The meltdown?"
"Yes, yes, Isaac, the meltdown. When there was a big explosion and... and the really hot fire, you remember?" Noelle urged. Isaac's breathing was heavy.
"I think... three days ago...?" He replied, obviously unsure of his answer. Noelle's heart stopped. Three days? And no paramedics? No help from other cities?
Was this not the only city that had a nuclear meltdown?
++++++++++
I usually write a few paragraphs as my opening post (like the one above), and then anywhere from 1-3 paragraphs as my regular responses, providing the rp and its other players have plenty of material that I can work with.
And there you have it. I haven't roleplayed in a while, so I'm desperately craving it now.
I've been roleplaying for two years, but my writing skills are not astounding (not to say that I'm horrendous at writing, though). My style of writing is moderately descriptive, but I don't think it's too wordy. I do my best to keep my characters' personalities realistic, as well; I myself cannot stand it when a character's personality/abilities scream "mary sue".
Here's a sample of my writing. This was my first post in a post-apocalyptic roleplay, in which a girl has woken from consciousness after a nuclear meltdown. When I wrote this, I put myself in the character's place; they way she would probably think, act, feel, and behave in such a catastrophic situation.
+++++++++
Blood. Blood, everywhere. Screaming, groaning, pleading. A hand clawed at the cement. A dainty, bruised, and gashed-open hand. The skin color was almost hard to see past the dust, dirt, and blood. She pulled herself along, out of the crushing rubble that had hairline-fractured several of her bones-- and no doubt crushed a few-- out of the rubble of which dust was suffocating her to death. She wrenched free her left arm, now using her left hand to aid the right, painfully forcing her legs to push her along the cement, which was wet and warm with her blood. She wanted out. She was getting out. She bit her lip, a scream emitting from her throat as she pulled herself free from the ruins of her family's destroyed house. And now, she was met with cries of fear and agony, cries that were not her own, but everyone else's. The smell of burning smoke mixed with the metallic smell of blood invaded her nostrils, and it took all of her will-power not to vomit. There was another foul smell in the air, and it forced Noelle to push herself onto her scraped knees, ignoring the pain. She was breathing heavily as she looked up into the sky, which was still reddish from three days before.
And then she felt all the pain.
She couldn't stop the scream that ripped through the air from her lips like a knife, sobs wracking her body as she realized what had happened. She could now remember everything; her house was gone, her family was gone. And the wounds had now formed on her arms and legs and neck. There was blistering, searing, tearing pain as her hands grasped desperately at the wounds on her limbs, trying to make the horrendous feeling disappear. The air was burning her; burning her skin, her lungs, and everyone else. Radiation. Dreadful radiation. She stood. Oh, her ankle was sprained in the worst way, and she nearly fell over, but she stood, if even limply. She had to stand. For the rest of the city, she, at least, needed to stand above the ruins and defy the pain.
As she stood, she looked at her hands, before gazing back up at the sky, as if pleading for God to help her. She then turned her attention back to the city, and salty tears streamed down her cut and bruised face, mixing with the dirt and blood and leaving alabaster rivers on her cheeks. She found herself running towards a child just a few yards away, who was screaming for his parents, writhing on the ground with a broken leg and half of his body severely burned. Noelle knew this boy, and she collapsed onto her knees beside him, not finding any words to say as she stroked his face gently. "Shh..." Noelle whispered, fear gripping at her heart for him. What if the paramedics couldn't make it to him in time? What if there were no paramedics at all? "I-it'll be alri-ight," Noelle choked out, her throat tight as the boy calmed down some. So small and innocent, and he was caught in the midst of it all. How long had it been? His entire shin and calf were bruised and black, as if his leg had been broken for... days. Had been days already? It seemed like it was such a short while ago.
"Noelle?" Came the weak, soft voice of the boy laying at her knees. Noelle swallowed hard and nodded.
"Yes?"
"I want my mommy and daddy," he whispered pitifully. "my leg hurts so much." Noelle bit her cheek hard, tears brimming her eyelids.
"I'm... sure they'll be back soon," she replied quietly. She looked away for a brief moment, taking a deep breath before looking back at him. "How long has your leg been like this?"
"A long time," he replied, tears streaming down his face again as the sobs started once more. Noelle panicked.
"Isaac, Isaac," she started quickly, nervously, "Isaac, I need you to c-calm down... When did the meltdown happen?" The boy, Isaac, stopped his sobbing.
"The meltdown?"
"Yes, yes, Isaac, the meltdown. When there was a big explosion and... and the really hot fire, you remember?" Noelle urged. Isaac's breathing was heavy.
"I think... three days ago...?" He replied, obviously unsure of his answer. Noelle's heart stopped. Three days? And no paramedics? No help from other cities?
Was this not the only city that had a nuclear meltdown?
++++++++++
I usually write a few paragraphs as my opening post (like the one above), and then anywhere from 1-3 paragraphs as my regular responses, providing the rp and its other players have plenty of material that I can work with.
And there you have it. I haven't roleplayed in a while, so I'm desperately craving it now.
timelime