RolePlayer.me

Name: Bubblegum Cotton-Candy or Nao Watanabe Nickname: Bubbles, gummy-bear, Candy, Fluffy (any other candy names) Gender: Male Age: 16 Birthday: July 4 Blood Type: AB+ Hair: blue bangs, rest of hair is light pink Eyes: left - blue; right - pinkSkin: pale peachOrientation: Gay (uke) Status: single Occupation: Works in a candy store, student Family: Doesn't know if he has any, but he lives with his boss. Kaoru Watanabe (Boss, father figure) Favorites: sweets, his job Fears: thunderWeaknesses: N/A Other notes: Was found by Kaoru. Doesn't have any memory before he was found. Thinks he was abandoned by his biological parents. Was adopted by Kaoru.Name: Kaoru Watanabe Nickname: Kao-chan Gender: Male Age: 20 Birthday: not telling Blood Type: AB- Hair: RedEyes: GreenSkin: peachOrientation: Gay (seke) Status: single Occupation: Candy Shop owner Family: Lives with Bubblegum Cotton-Candy (worker, son) Favorites: sweets, sex Fears: N/AWeaknesses: N/AOther Notes: Gave Bubblegum his name after finding him. He took the boy to the doctors, who told him that the boy had no memory. Still looking for his parents, but adopted him while doing so.

o1. I have my courier, and I really don't care to storyline with any others. Sorry, but I've had the same courier since the summer of '11 and considering he's one of my closest friends, I think I'll be sticking with this group.o2. Same for Arcade - I have one, so if any other were to pop up, I'm sorry, but that's too bad.o3. Multi-para minimum, novella preferred.o4. You'll have a long wait time between replies. Don't rush me, or I'll put off your reply out of spite.o5. Colt's a misogynistic asshole. I am not. What goes on in roleplay is done for the purposes of roleplay. I LIKE drama in my roleplays, but that doesn't mean I want it outside of roleplay.o6. I'm female in real life. Honestly, does that surprise you any?o7. Not that you'd want to, but don't steal my shit. Colt was the first courier I used back in 2010 when New Vegas came out and he's since transformed into my little Legionnaire. Come up with your own character and playby.o8. I won't be doing crossovers. Sorry. I have other accounts where we can do something outside of Fallout verse. I'm not here to teach you about the verse, either. I'll tell you basics, but it's up to you to do further research.

Clint had no idea who had sent him the free plane ticket to return home to Iowa. Lord knows, he had hardly any memories of it. He had only been eight when he left Waverly and ended up in a state orphanage, and what kind of good childhood memories can you get from an orphanage? After that, Barney and Clint had been all over the country when they ran away and joined the carney. Iowa became just another place where the rednecks hung out. Now that he was suddenly a father again, Clint felt an almost irresistible compulsion to go home. He also felt vaguely like a dumbass for even considering it. A big part of human memory is triggered by smell. The smell of alcohol always reminded him of his father, the smell of lilacs reminded him of his mother, and the smell of smoke reminded him of how a drunk man should never get behind the wheel of a car and drive. Sawdust and cotton candy made him remember his carney days; pine trees brought back memories of the months he spent living in the wilderness after Bobbi's death, trying to shake off the grief the way he had shaken off his responsibilities. Only thing was, he still couldn't get away from the feeling that something wasn't quite right. Something was stirring his head, and he thought that it was the weather. Clint grabbed his backpack in his hand and made his way to the door of the plane; then stepped down the stairs to the pavement. It was going to be cold as a motherfucker. There's varying degrees of cold. In New York, cold was to the bone with a foul smell, but he still missed it in the winter. In California, the temperature rarely dropped below 75 degrees but the natives still bitched. Then there is Iowa cold. Going from the warmness of the plane cabin to outside was like putting his face into a cooler that had been setting in ice for the last few hours. Clint tucked his backpack along his shoulder and made his way to airport entrance. His Harley Davidson motorcycle sit just where the travel agent said it would be. Finally, he had a chance to get away from everything and sort his thoughts. It may have been Waverly, Iowa but it was home; and home was what he needed right now the most. The thought still swirled around in his head however with the curiosity of who his benefactor was. It had to be someone that knew him on a deeper level. Something to figure out later though. For now, he wasn't going to complain. He walked over to the bike, lifting his leg over the seat and placed his hands on the handle grips. A quick turn of a key later and he heard the engines roar to life. Music to his ears if there ever was any. He smiled, speaking lightly while he kicked the stand up and pulled off. "Now this is home...hell yeah..."

Name: ShotaKnown Aliases: Shota Vader, Alchemist, Raven NecromancerHome world: Yavin IV/ KorribanRace: Near Human, exact race unknownGender: FemaleHeight: 5' 3"Weight: 100 lbsHair color: BlackSkin color: Extremely lightEye color: Purple. Some would say her eyes appeared to give off a light of their own due to their unique color.Profession: Sith AlchemistAffiliations: The Vader family, Serinan Imperial OrderDescription: Shota's known for her curiosity though she usually tries to avoid allowing it to be obvious when it's been sparked. Her loyalties lie with very few as she is very distrusting of those around her. Her strongest bonds are those she has formed with her Teacher and Nikita Vader who she is sometimes known to address as her Mistress. Like most Sith Alchemists she has a strong hatred for Jedi (Lightsiders as she calls them.) Though her tolerance for them tends to generally be far less than that of her Teacher due to her childhood. Because of her physical appearance she has often been singled out and targeted due to various fears by fellow Alchemists, Jedi, Sith, and non Force sensitive individuals. As a result it isn't uncommon for her to hide her appearance by use of illusions, only allowing those she trusts to see her true appearance. Due to her heritage her favored abilities tend to lie along the lines of various forms of Necromancy. 

Well as it turns out the rpg I originally made this account for decided to start overand with my life as busy as it is I don't really see use in re-auditioning and keeping this page.As much as I would like to stay with the wonderful friends I've made,I don't see it fair to them that I cannot talk as often as I would like...though I found time to come online as often as I could,it just was never enough I guess...I may bring this account back next year, but I make no gaurentees...if you would still like to keep in touch,you can find me at my siteInto The Twilightyeah not a SM site and not even an anime siteJust ask for Maybelle though <3I know you don't have to use the services,it would just be nice to keep such friends...I wish you all the best of luck in the SM verseand I will promote SM rpers as much as I can...I'd really hate for the verse to die out...):well I guess this is goodbye then...

Name: Jason ReeperAlias(s): NoneSex: MaleRace/Species: HumanAge: 20Birthday: October 29thSign: ScorpionFamily: Parents are currently traveling, Talia(Nanny), Eric(Butler)Birthplace: New York City, New YorkOccupation: University student, magicianHeight: 5'10"Weight: 174 lbsEye Color: RedHair: Jet BlackWeapons/Equipment: Various magician tools.Attributes: Illusionist, magician, musician, genius intellectBio: Jason was born into money. He was surrounded by it his whole life and his parents used it to give him everything any child could possibly dream of...except love. Jason had no need for expensive toys, or video games, or high-end electronics; all he wanted, all he wished for were for his parents to give him their unconditional love. But Jason's parents were consumed by their work and need to acquire wealth and status. When Jason came of age, they passed that burden on to him. They sent him to several of the best and most exclusive private schools in the country and expected him to behave as someone in their circle would. Jason was alone. The only real parents he had was Talia, his nanny who cared for him since birth, and Eric, his butler who introduced him to the world of magic and illusions. Eric was a skilled magician before he entered into the service of the Reeper family. To ease the loneliness of their only son, he taught the young Jason all about performing illusions and tricks. Jason took up the craft with great enthusiasm and by age eighteen was performing at various shows without the knowledge of his parents. He had performed many incredible feats throughout his short career, but the one thing he could never do was make his parents love him.Theme Song~ Kiss From a Rose by Seal 

 A winter night and call went out to friends and family as the forest seem to light up as one Christmas tree is on a path to a small cottage deep in the forest as the forest itself glow blue as her cottage glow with the Christmas spirit as there was so much food out that she had cook for them. She wore a pretty red dress and Santa hat on her head . As she wait for other to come to a Christmas party for she didn't want alone on this day. The table was all in red and green with drinks and all . She was so ready for this day .As people would come they had to get through this forest. Uploaded with ImageShack.usAs they would come to creak with a bridge and on the other side of that bridge  a cottage is lite up in the Christmas lights.Uploaded with ImageShack.us As you come in you see a nice Christmas set home with food and goodys as well as a light up tree and warm fire from the fireplace. Uploaded with ImageShack.usUploaded with ImageShack.usUploaded with ImageShack.usUploaded with ImageShack.us This was going to be the best Christmas ever .

Hi! Welcome to my Roleplayer.Me page! Just a few rules before we RP.1. DISCLAIMER: I am NOT Olivia Munn, nor do I claim to be in any way,shape, or form [a name's just a name]. Refer to my blog about the differences between the real life Munn, and my character. 2. I'll RP anything,even if I don't know it very well... But I'll try to go with the flow. 3.  I use to do Para style for roleplay, but I've upgraded to Novella. 4. Do NOT God Mode. It's STUPID...You'll become the second most hated person on the Internet. The first will always be Justin Bieber.5. USE PROPER F***IN' ENGLISH..I don't want to see 'u' for 'You', and '4', for..'for'.Or 'Dat' for 'that', 'wat' for 'what', and the list goes on.I hate it!It makes you look stupid, and that is one thing you should avoid around me; my character's a Soldier, and the U.S. Military expects a professional image, so will I.6.  My page is not for children, let's get that right: I swear like a motherf***er. I shoot firearms. I do engage in violence, because war isn't tag. I f*** men or women, and that leads me to this rule: should our storyline involve sexual activity, we'll do it in messages. I'm just comfortable that way. Don't like it? PACK. YOUR. SH*T. An old friend once said: ACT YOUR AGE. NOT YOUR F***IN' SHOE SIZE.7. If you kill me off, I'm fine with it.. Just remember: my character's part RE/MGS, I'll definitely be back at some point to kill you. That's a guarantee. I'm a proud soldier of the United States Army, so don't go thinking I'm some chick you can victimize, because I can and will gladly turn you into my bitch. Don't believe me, I'll provide you with a list of people who will always be known as MAMA'S BITCHES.8. When you send the starter, I expect detail and structure. I don't want one liners, or stupid scenarios like 'so-and-so bumps into you one day', or something like that. Take your time when creating the starter, please. I strongly urge that to all of you.9. My character tends to promote through the ranks from time to time. But at least I do it within a month or two, so it doesn't cause any confusion. I'll also inform you ahead of time, if you don't understand my meaning.10 When we RP, it's RP only, alright? None of this stupid RL drama bullsh*t, got it? If you can't handle it... Kill yourself. Just do it. You'll open up more lanes on the freeway with you out the way.11. Always remember: RP is not F***IN' REAL!!!!!If you think it is.. Again, kill yourself. You'll save the world a lot of trouble. If you can't seem to figure that out and you need help, I will happily oblige in pulling the trigger for you.. Or throwing you off a cliff- whichever tickles your vagina.12. Please decide which character you want to be please! I don't like it when people change in the middle of RP. It f***s everything up, and complicates the storyline! Change first, before you send a starter! If you change in the middle of a storyline, you WILL be DELETED.13. Relationships. I thought I didn't have to put it up, but alright. My character is a Soldier, and Fidelity is taught to all who serve. Therefore, if my Olivia is taken, she is TAKEN. None of this, 'side chick' bullsh*t. Don't try to flirt with my Olivia when she's taken. You'll be disappointed after she turns you down. And I don't think it matters who I'm with; male or female, if I'm interesting to you, then don't be shy, send me a message. 14. I expect complete Professionalism with ALL Roleplayers that come in contact with me. This especially pertains to those who added me. If I've known you for awhile, say a duration of three months or so, then okay, I will be lenient to this rule. We can then goof off, f*** around, and what have you. But as of today, a lot of people have been irritating me with their lack of professionalism. And they added me, so honestly, what the f***. I've had idiots email me 'I'd love to eat your p**sy.." Really? Is your sex life outside RP that bad that you have to come get it here? What, your hand give up? I'll allow sexual content during roleplay, but that sh*t will not fly on my watch.15. I should have stated this earlier, but better late than never. DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT ROLEPLAY MY CHARACTER! That's called AUTO RP, and that is considered GOD MODE. An example: "______ ran through the field, looking for Olivia, who was armed with an M4." How in the F*** would you know that I was there, and how the F*** did I have an M4? My character may be a soldier, but that doesn't mean I have to be armed with an M4. I could be holding the HK416, a Benelli M1014 Shotgun, AA-12, or whatever the f*** I want to carry. DO NOT PLAY MY CHARACTER. YOU HAVE YOUR OWN, SO STICK TO YOURS, BEFORE I STICK MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS. 16. I AM NOT A F***ING NUMBER. I know I shouldn't have to, but ever since I made the transition from MySpace to RolePlayer.Me, I've gotten friend requests, and almost the majority of them do not even ask for a starter, or discuss a storyline with me. They just add me, and say nothing. I am not going to be just another number for you 'friend whores', if you're going to add me, you better be sure you're going to ROLEPLAY with me. 17.   I don't mind OOC from time to time, but if all we're gonna do is have small talk OOC, then get the f*** off my page and fool around with someone else. This is called 'ROLEPLAYER' for a reason, and that's what I am here to do. 18.  I'm the only one to portray Olivia Munn as a soldier- the first to do it since MySpace, as well as being the only one to roleplay her. Lisa herself, as in the RL OLIVIA MUNN, is aware I portray her, and has been aware of that since Mama made her debut on MySpace. That being said, I'm not adding any others with Olivia's face. I just don't do that sort of thing. Not to sound like a snooty bitch, but if I wanted to face a double, I'll do it on my own terms. My character's a soldier. She has her own problems, as well as fulfilling her duty to the country. Don't interfere with your complaints and bullsh*t! It's bad enough this war is as f***ed up as it already is! Thank You for taking the time to read and understand these rules. I look forward to the RP, but when we RP, I expect FULL effort. None of this half-assed bullsh*t that some RPers do. And if you agree to the expectations stated above, then we'll have no problems.To put it bluntly: Read the rules and follow them. Quit being BEECH about how I run my page, because I don't tell you how to run yours. Even though some of you stupid idiots are so Goddamned illiterate I wished they had retained your monkey asses in Preschool to teach you how to properly speak some f***in' English, but that's just me. CURRENT GRADE/POSITION: Command Sergeant Major/ CSM(E-9)- Olivia Elizabeth Munn�Command Sergeant MajorUnited States Army  D-Squadron, 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment Delta(1st-SFOD-D)

Name: RevionAlias(s): ErrolSex: MaleRace/Species: ElfAge: 660(looks to be around 22)Birthday: March 6thSign: PiscesFamily: Doesn't like to talk about itBirthplace: Doesn't like to talk about itOccupation: BardHeight: 5'9"Weight: 167 lbs.Eye Color: Light greenHair: RedWeapon(s)/ Equipment: Short sword, daggers, luteAttributes: Swordsman, knife expert, bard, acrobat, stealth, immortality, minor control of magic, underdeveloped foresight.Bio: Born into a long line of Elven princes, Revion was a black sheep among his elven brethren in the deep mystic forest. Born with an intuitive and adventurous nature, he soon the found the forest his people called home to be as much as a prison as it was a sanctuary. Elves were forbidden from leaving the woods that bore them and consorting with humans was the ultimate insult to their race. Revion realized that unless he left his home he would be alone forever. In the dead of night, he ran from the forest and never looked back. Life among the humans was challenging at first; he had to learn their ways and customs in order to fit in. Through the help of a few kind humans and the few other elves that left the forest, Revion adapted to life in the open world easily. He took the name "Errol" to conceal his identity as the Elven prince and became a traveling bard, seeing the world he didn't even know existed beyond the forest.Theme Song~ Flaming Red Hair by  David Donaldson, David Long, Steve Roche, Janet Roddick

Brother: AvailableSister: AvailableDaughter: AvailableUncle: AvailableMother: AvailableFather: AvailableCousin: AvailableLove Interest(Female): AvailableI can't think of anything else at the moment but more then one person can be my brother and sister

Avenger Dissasembled Part 1   There comes a time in every man's life when he must change; a point when the way he lived is no longer suitable for the way he is. Age, injury, sickness, the big x-factors; no matter how good you have, they can take it all away. This change can often kill the man; not physically, though. Hell, not even mentally. Change can do damage that nothing can heal and change can kill a man's soul.  Location: The North Shore of Ireland; Malin Chance Barton had just put on his new spiffy uniform and stood in front of the mirror, flexing his muscles and thinking about how cool he looked. It was moments like these that he was glad he had signed up with the Fraternity and fell into the ranks of the IRA sanctioned Saints. The suit was all black with a material closely similar to leather and was covered with little arrows of scarlet plastic. It was the perfect detriment to his biological father's costume, the Avenger known as Hawkeye. Lowering his glance to the table next to him, Chance picked up his gear, a modified crossbow and small quiver. He placed each on opposing upper outside thighs, a grin encasing his face as he spoke silently. "It's almost time father..in a few hours you go home...or at least away from here." Almost on cue, his door slid open, and Chance turned to face it as a man walked inside the room. The man was lean , with dark blonde hair and glowing red eyes. In his hand was a mask that was very familiar to the young man. The visitor spoke in a light voice, extending the mask towards the younger Barton.  "It be time mate. Ye be meetin up wit Sean in an hour." Chance nodded his head and then looked at the man's hand. The man continued, speaking in a deep Irish accent with a touch of Australian mixed in for good measure. "Dis belonged ta Trickshot Chance..Wear it wit honor..eh?" Chance's brows lowered almost angrily as he took the mask from the Man's hand and slipped it along his brow, then guiding it along the brim of his nose. Chance replied. "Of course Dominic..he was the closest thing I ever had to a father.." The young man quickly caught himself before continuing. "Outside of you and Sean that is. I take it Azad contacted you with Hawkeye's location?" Dominic Lyncoln, better known to the world at large as Lync Gevoel responded in return.  "Aye mate...dis is da time we been waitin fa. Don take da shot though..Ah wan dat.."  Lync paused for a brief second, almost as if he were reflecting on some past event, namely the moment Clint Barton took away every human feeling he would ever know with a well placed arrow to his neck.  "Nada...ah deserve dat one fa what da bloke took from me."  Chance nodded as Lync raised a hand and placed it on his shoulder, tapping his hand on it twice.  "We be God's chosen mate....neva forget ya place in da new world order."  Lync then lifted his hand from Chance's shoulder and tapped his cheek lightly, a grim look of confidence on his face. He then lowered his hand completely and turned away, moving back towards the entrance of the door and speaking along the way.  "Azad will have Hawkeye in position..Sein Fein."  As the door closed, Chance turned and began his walk towards another exit, his mission already etched in his mind, right or wrong, tonight would change everything.  Avenger Dissasembled Part 2 The Location: District X, Mutant Town The skies were black, and the rain poured like tears from a grieving mother. The sound of it hitting the pavement filled the would-be silent night with a repetitive and dull pounding. The roof tops echoed the pounding, giving the only solace in the cold night air. Something was eerie about this storm, yet it appeared fitting given the situation. It was on these same docks four years before, on this very date, that Clint Barton thought he had breathed his last breaths. To this day, he could hear gunfire and it would curl his soul, bring out a side of the archer he never would never admit to. Fear. A point blank shot to his head, the fainting images of life fading to darkness, an accent, a man called Sean Eamon that took his life for the briefest of moments. Clint lifted his hand to his ear, pressing a small comm-link, even as the rain dripped along his face. "Azad..I'm here and you were right. The lights are on at the old shipping dock. How long before Ty get's here. I'm probably gonna need backup on this one." Clint adjusted his visors and zoomed in on the building before speaking again. "I count at least fifteen armed on the dock...not sure how many on the boat itself." A voice came back through his earpiece. "Ty's coming in dark and low in the inlet. He's maintaining radio silence for now but will be in position when we go in." Clint nodded his head and spoke back. "Copy that. I'm good to go. You ready?" The voice belonging to Azad came through again. "Let's do this." Wiping the rain from his visors, Clint took another look, spotting two men exiting the boat and walking towards the nearby building. Another man exited the building. It was him for sure. Sean Eamon. Clint mumbled to himself. "After all this time...I got you motherfucker." Clint quickly gained his composure, even as the men shared greetings by handshake.  Taking out his bow, Clint reached to his quiver and traced his fingertips along the brail encoded ends of the arrows. After making his selection and loading it to the bowline carefully, he pulled it back to his cheekbone, feeling the tension of the bowstring as he did so. The creek of the bow bending was like music to his ears, ringing out in the night air. He sat perched on the building across the street, poised for what would happen. -CRASH!!- Something else was happening down on the ground, and in that instant, the arrow went flying. It struck above the nearby building with a thunk and Clint pulled tight on the rope, then wrapped the other end around a steel pipe that came up from the roof next to him. Slinging his bow across the rope, he slid down effortlessly and forced his body to go limp, rolling across and then picking himself up when his momentum slowed down. He drew two shock arrows, setting them on the bow and pulled back, letting loose at two men who he guessed were bodyguards. The men both fell immediately as their bodies lit up the night in a light blue electric hue and hum.  Before Clint could load his bow up again, a shot rang out, and he felt a jolt to his chest. Shaking off the bullet, he wiped his Kevlar clean, and looked at the broken bow in his hands. A man slowly walked towards Clint, fazing in and out of vision through the rain falling. The man spoke in an Irish accent. "Not so tough without the bow, are ya bitch?" Carefully watching the thug, he circled around slowly, and placed his hand near his thigh. They stared off for a few moments, neither moving. Clint recognized him. It was Sean Eamon. The man he had for so long attempted to catch up to and fate had finally allowed him the chance. Clint let out a sarcastic sound from his lips. "Heh..." Dipping down fast, he ran in, just as Sean teleported out of the way. The Irishman appeared next to Clint just as he passed and dropped a well placed fist to the back of Clint's head, knocking him off balance to the ground. The man laughed and then spoke. "You flinched." Sean reached to his leg, pulling a gun from its holster and raising it towards the archer. "Your lucky I owe someone for losing his long lost love.." Sean walked over to Clint and slammed his head to the pavement with his boot, then leaned forward placing the gun to the back of Clint's head. He spoke again, this time almost mockingly. "Game over bloke." No sooner had the words left Sean's lips, a bright light erupted behind them and a portal opened. A man walked through with red glowing eyes. Avenger Disassembled Part 3   The world isn't all sunshine and rainbows. It's a very mean and nasty place and it doesn't care how tough you are. It will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. It isn't about how hard you get hit though, it's about how hard you can get up and keep moving forward. For as long as he could remember, Chance had wanted this opportunity; the opportunity to strike back at his father for every wrong he felt Clint Barton had caused on his life. Chance stood in the shadows and looked on as Lync arrived, watching as his biological father lay on the ground with a gun barrel to the back of his head. The only word that came to his mind was poetic justice, which happened to be the same thing the elder Barton was thinking. Clint had caught the burst of light from his peripheral vision and he knew someone else was on the scene now. He also knew that he to make his move now or the chance may not arrive again. The waking dream came to an end when an alarm came to life. It was show time. This was the fearful yet real dream that Clint had been fighting years to overcome. When Sean noticed the light, he turned his head for a split second in the light's direction. "You're early Lync." Of course Sean would not say what he had intended to do in the next few seconds had Lync not arrived. He would have taken care of the archer the same way Lync had tried to so many times, yet Sean would not have played any psychological games with the archer and allowed him to escape. It would be light's out. Clint however used the distraction to his advantage, twisting his body with his arms and hips to knock Sean off balance. The gun bounced to the pavement as Sean lost his footing and fell into a split crotched position. Sean considered going after the gun but realized it was useless at this close range. Both men were lethal weapons in their own rights. A gun was really just an afterthought. Clint looked upwards in Lync's direction as he quickly made his way to his feet and then turned his attention back to Sean. "I should have known you'd be here too. Lucky me...I get to kick your ass too." That was mostly for bravado and Clint knew that, especially when he heard Lync speak in reply. "Ye have nada idea mate." Lync turned his head to the shadows and called out. The portal behind him closed rapidly as he spoke until it was completely erased from the night. "Azad! Chance! Nada need fa ah charade now mates." Clint's eyes widened as he saw Azad walk out and stop next to Lync, mumbling under his breath. All the while however, Sean hadn't made an attack move on Clint which confused the archer even more. Just what the hell was going on here? Clint shook his head but shifted his eyes to look at his teammate for a brief moment, speaking in raspy voice in disgust. "Nice...I guess it's true what they say. Keep your friends close and your enemies even closer." Azad flashed a shit eating grin as he spoke to Clint. "Ditto asshole. How does it feel to be betrayed by one of your own?" Before Azad could speak again, Lync spoke out in a demanding manner. "Silence Azad!" He then turned his attention to Sean, nodding his head slightly in his direction. Sean nodded in return, whispering something in Gaelic before raising his right hand to press a small button on his left wrist and disappeared completely, teleporting away from Clint and across the dock yard where he re-appeared. Sean lifted his finger into the shape of a gun and jolted it before moving his finger to his lips and blowing on it. Lync placed his hands to his sides as his eyes slowly dimmed into their natural hues, relaxing in his stance. Clint however was still confused. He was apparently outnumbered and something just didn't feel right about the entire situation. A figure appeared of the shadows and into the light. Clint strained his eyes until the young man's face came into view from the light of nearby dock lights. Clint felt as if he knew already who it was the closer the young man came to him, yet, he had never seen him before in his life. The young man stopped a few feet away from Clint and spoke, his facial expression stoic. "Hello dad."   Avenger Disassembled Part 4 When I look you in your eyes I can see my own, Straight love manifested in flesh and bone.   The words spoken by the younger Barton caught the elder one by surprise, emotionally stunned him long enough that he lost complete focus on how dire his current situation was. Clint's eyes focused on the young man before him, taking in the sight of eyes that looked very much like his own before he blurted out emphatically. "Bullshit." For a very brief moment, there appeared to be an expression of hurt on the younger Barton's face. Clint continued on however, turning his eyes away from Chance and towards Lync. "This is your doing ain't it Nic?" Lync did not respond, instead he stood with a smile entrenched on his face triumphantly. In every way that mattered, this was the revenge he had wanted on Hawkeye for many years since his accident occurred by Clint's hand. Lync would call it the day of retribution when the child would strike down the father in blood as atonement for the elder's sins.  After a moment of silence, Lync spoke up, his eyes beginning to glow red once more in the night air. "It be true Barton...ye can thank ole Buck fa dat." Before Lync could finish his words however, Clint felt a violent smash upon his face, levied by the hand of the young man in front of him. It was enough to rattle his teeth and force Clint to stagger to one knee. Another force fist to his face quickly followed the first, knocking Clint backwards far enough that he had to catch himself with his hand to keep from falling completely to the pavement. Clint spit blood from his mouth, the result of a bit inner jaw and busted lip that was now mixing with the continuing rainfall. Chance yelled out to his father repeatedly, reaching for Clint's chin and forcibly tilting his head upwards to greet his eyes. "OCTOBER 12TH! Do YOU REMEMBER?!?" Chance pulled back his hand and slapped Clint across the face repeatedly, then reached for the crossbow perched on his upper leg while dropping his father's chin and standing up, execution style. Chance yelled out again, lifting the crossbow and directing its sights at his father. "DO YOU REMEMBER ME?!?" Clint eyes watered up when he heard the date. How could he not remember that date? It was the day that his first child would have been born had Bobbi not lost it. How did this man know that though....Unless he was telling the truth. Clint shook his head in disbelief and whispered softly through hurried breaths. "It can't be..." Lync had already began his walk towards the two Barton's during the aggression by Chance, still smiling approvingly. He placed a hand on Chance's shoulder from behind. "Chance..." Chance spun around quickly, placing the tip of an arrow from the crossbow against his mentor's forehead, looking Lync straight in the eye. "Don't touch me motherfucker!" Lync's eyes began to grow a brighter red as Chance yelled at him and Sean took notice. For all of Sean's bouts with near insanity, Chance had become very much like his own son. His hand slowly slipped to his wrist, pressing a button on his transport device. He completely vanished in the night and reappeared behind Lync, pulling a combat knife and literally stabbing Lync in the back. Lync did not feel the thrust of the blade into his back but did notice how he jolted forward from the impact. He also knew who had done this to him already. Sean's glance met Chance's as Lync turned around, grabbing Sean by the throat and using his telekinesis to slowly begin closing the Irishman's trachea. "Ye would dare mate?!?" Chance felt this was not right now...apparently something else had been planned by Lync that he did not about although it was apparent to him now that Sean did.    Avenger Disassembled Part 5 Life is not determined by your past judgements or failures. No, it is determined by what you do with the second chances that life lays in front of you. The location: The docks of District X The participants: Hawkeye, Chance Barton, Lync Gevoel, Sean Eamon, and Azad The time: The present...for now. Ever since the white even had occurred, the one that many referred to in this world as the House of M, Lync Gevoel had been etched in a never ending psychological war with Clint Barton. Both men were out of place in this world since the white event caused by the mutant witch, Wanda Maximoff. Memories had been warped, realities tied together by events that neither man could have known of. To Clint Barton and Lync Gevoel, they had known each other since they were teenagers in a carney. Yet, to one man, all of this had to be changed and he had gone through many ordeals to assure that his future would be changed for the better. No more destruction and poverty..his world would live again....and to accomplish this feat, Clint Barton had to die by his own son's hand. Lync was furious as he held Sean Eamon in a telekinetic choke hold, a man that he called a friend for many years since his arrival in this timeline. Blood ran profusely down the Irishman's back. He yelled out in the direction of Sean as the man dangled limply in the thin air. "Ye may have signed ye own death certificate mate!" Sean's eyes stayed focused on Chance as the man slowly faded into unconsciousness. Chance in turn knew this was his chance and raised his hand to the sky, looking in Azad's direction. No soon has his glance met the large dark skinned elemental than lighting ran down from the night heaven, striking Lync wear he stood. Lync dropped to one knee immediately, his eyes glowing brighter and brighter to regain strength even as his clothes smoked in the aftermath. Chance knew this was his only chance. He turned to face Clint again who seemingly was completely stunned by all that was going on and spoke in a hurried voice. "We got four seconds old man" Clint seemingly came to his senses as the young man spoke again but gave him a confused look. Clint replied. "Four seconds for what?" Before another word could be spoke, two gun's levitated from Lync's holsters attached to his upper legs  and into the air, one firing immediately in Azad's direction. A single dart zipped through the air, hitting the elemental in  his neck. The second gun rose in the air and begin spinning in a circle, almost as if it was playing a game of Russian roulette. Lync had not forgotten Sean however and had already outstretched his hand in his direction, lifting his former friend in the air in a tk field. Lync stood and rushed in his direction in mad dash, jumping into the air and beginning a upside down roundhouse kick, catching Sean with his foot beneath his chin. Just as he made contact, Lync released his grip on Sean and his neck snapped, sending the man hurling backwards and to the ground where landed on his back in a solemn thud. Lync landed to the ground in a crotched position, staring in a disappointed manner at Chance. All the while, Azad could already feel the effects of the poison that was introduced through the dart fired at him moments earlier by Lync. A swift wind came out of nowhere and lifted him in the air, taking him away from the conflict in a last ditch effort to get to the antidote he knew he would need to prolong his life. Chance knew he had to hurry or all of this would be for nothing. He had been trained to fight and survive but he had never gained complete control of his powers; to use them meant he had to focus all of his will. Most of the time, this left Chance in a vulnerable state of mind and he had to rely on instinct. Lync slowly raised from the crotched position, willing one of his guns to lower back into his hand. Shaking his head from side to side, he raised the gun in Clint's direction, speaking in a low Irish drawl. "Ye disappoint me boy...ah thought ye wanted dis as much as me...now ye show ye true colors...eh?" Lync pulled back on the hammer of the gun and steadied his finger on the trigger, confident in this moment being the true end to the game between he and Hawkeye. Clint began to move his left hand towards his belt for a trick arrowhead, sure that he would have to find a way out once more. The man that claimed to be his son was the wild card however. Chance and Clint both remained quiet however but Chance met his mentor's eyes with a confident stare. Lync spoke once more. "It's been fun Barton..too bad ye did'na join me when ye had da chance. Ah'll see ye in hell." Lync pulled on the trigger and the dark flew out of the barrel of the gun. Chance jumped in front of his father, pulling a small round device from his belt and slamming it against his father's chest. Chance forced his will, slowing time into almost a standstill as he moved. He could see the dart getting closer to him and then turned his head towards his father, pushing him out of the way with his hand. Chance spoke although his voiced seemed like it was in slow motion. "Fooooooooouuuuuuurrrrr ssseeccccoooooonnnnndddddssss....saaaavvveeeee meeeeee daaaaaaaaaaadddd......Pleeeeeeaaaasssseeeee........." Everything was in slow motion now and Clint seemed to be stuck in slow motion as well, yet his mind raced along at normal speed. He realized what was happening now, even as the dart hit Chance in his neck and the young man began his slow decent to the pavement. The device that Chance had placed on Clint's chest began to blink quickly, engulfing the archer in a bright white light. 4, 3, 2, 1...and Clint was gone. Lync screamed out, dropping the gun instinctively and reaching to catch Chance at the last possible instant in his arms, yet yelling out and still trying to reach Clint with his other outstretched hand. "NOoooooooooOOOOOOOOoooOOooooo!" When the light faded, time resumed it's normal course and Lync lowered his head solemnly, speaking in a near whisper. "No boy..dis was our chance.....where did you send him?!?" Lync picked Chance up in his arms, raising to stand and cradling the young man along his neck with one arm, the other underneath his legs. His eyes began to glow and he raised them both up off of the ground and into the air. He had sixty minutes to give Chance the antidote or he would lose both Barton's this night.    Epilogue: Dream what you want to dream; go where you want to go; be what you want to be, because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do. The Location: A whole new world...maybe? It had been a week since Clint awoke in a cold snowy field in the country and made his way to the city of Manhattan. He had no idea how he got there or why but residents in the small nearby town spoke of a bright light in the heavens the night that he arrived. Clint knew who he was but something about this place didn't make sense to him. People didn't recognize him the way he thought they would after the Chitauri invasion. He was even missing his military I.D.. He had a card in his wallet that said Avengers on it and a picture of him in a purple mask. All he could think about it was it must have been one wild night. After a few days of research and finding out where he actually lived again (He had went to some place in Manhattan where he thought he had a place and woke up by an old woman he slipped into bed with.) and clearing up the misunderstanding about it all, he was finally thinking he was in need of a psychologist. That was for later though and tonight he had work to do. After hours of waiting, someone finally came into the bar he had been staking out. Clint listened attentively through his hearing aide as the men spoke, making sure not to look interested "The folder wasn't there either Nick." An Irish man was standing near the bar speaking with another man. Only this one was in a fine Armani silk suite. "Then go to the next location and continue your search. Both our asses are on the line here." The man left, leaving the other at the bar. He had been given direct orders to find the information on the 7 Year Theory by Patrick O'Leary of the IRA. If he failed the cause again, he would surely lose his immigrant status and most likely, his life. 

*Heph pushed Dite in the wheeled chair, hoping that the change of scenery would help her heal faster, and stave off the cabin fever she had mentioned.*

Name: Damien LestatAlias: NoneSex: MaleRace/Species: VampireAge: Over 480 years old(looks to be in early to mid twenties)Birthday: June 13thSign: GeminiFamily: Mother(deceased), sister(deceased), father(missing)Birthplace: RomaniaOccupation: Entrepreneur, Philanthropist, CEOHeight: 5'11"Weight: 171lbsEye Color: RedHair: WhiteWeapons/Equipment: NoneAttributes: Enhanced strength, speed, endurance, immortality, master manipulator and deceiver.Bio: Over 400 years ago a noble family was butchered in their castle in Romania by the nearby villagers. The family was accused of being vampires. Damien was only a child when he witnessed his sister and mother's murders. He swore revenge for their deaths. One night, he wandered down to the village...and slaughtered everyone. But his vengeance was not yet satisfied, for there was one other person responsible for his family's death. The night of the murder, Damien's father fled and left his family to their undeserved fate. Damien vowed to find the man who dared call himself his father and make him pay for abandoning his family. Over the next few centuries, Damien began building up a mass wealth through trading in order to build the necessary connections that would help him find his father. Nowadays, Damien is a successful billionaire business owner, a celebrity, and considered by the populace to be a hero for his charity in the medical industry. But it's all a lie. In truth, Damien despises humans and longs for the day when they're hollow, disgusting race is brought their knees before his kind begging for mercy...only to find none at the hands of Damien Lestat.Theme Song~ If I Was Your Vampire by Marilyn Manson 

A new up and coming rpg copied and pasted Deeper Than Blood's roles word for word. Including roles that are exclusive to us, (roles that we for the most part made up). Such as Shadow-Kissed Anna and Saint Vladimir. The characters themselves belonged to Richelle Mead, but the Vampire Academy books provided limited information. We made up everything about them, so we do not appreciate others sealing their information from us. They changed the playbys, but otherwise kept everything else. Every rpg, help site and premades site has to deal with jocking occasionally. We have dealt with it twice before, but never, EVER like this. Rather than make the effort to write up their own roles, they chose to copy and paste ours. The proof is here: Our blog: https://i42.tinypic.com/208uv12.pngTheirs:https://i42.tinypic.com/npns3p.pngYou still need prof after that?well then here... This roles where written out by our Lissa before there was every any info about this characters. and they kept it word by word still...Ours:https://i44.tinypic.com/35bgzyv.pngTheirs:https://i42.tinypic.com/29ckldt.pngAs you can see, they copied it word for word. They only changed the playby to somebody else. All of their other roles look the same as ours as well. The profile itself is still blank, so who is to say that they haven't stolen our codes as well? OR YOURS? https://www.roleplayer.me/view_profile.php?member_id=141198Please block this rpg and repost this bulletin to avoid anymore stealing. 

Name: AzorAlias(s): The Wizard, The Timeless One, The Mystic, The All-KnowingSex: MaleRace/Species: HumanAge: Approximately 4000 years old(looks to be in his thirties)Birthday: October 28thSign: ScorpioFamily: NoneBirthplace: UnknownOccupation: Wizard, scientist, alchemist, archaeologist, doctorHeight: 6'3"Weight: 220 lbsEye Color: SilverHair: NoneWeapons/Equipment: Spell books, magical amulets, seeing stones, staff,  various magical objectsAttributes: Master sorcerer, master scientist, master alchemist, genius IQ, trained to physical peak, master in all forms of magic, eternal life and youthBio: The history and origins surrounding Azor are shrouded in mystery. Some saw he is a man who sold his soul for immortality and immeasurable power. Others believe he is a god and holds some kind of holy power. He can vouch for neither of those claims. If he were asked, he would reply that he simply and a curious man who wished to know the meaning of things he did not yet understand. At some point during the earliest years of his unnaturally long life, he discovered the secret to immortality and youth. With his newly found longevity, he divulged into the arts of magic and as time moved on and the world became more modern, he took up science as well. These days he lives in seclusion constantly researching and trying to find the truth to the mysteries of the world.Theme Song~ Kings and Queens by 30 Seconds to Mars