RolePlayer.me

the RULEBOOK.https://www.roleplayer.me/THESTORYTELLER"Rules are rules, follow them and we will be fine!"•  Verses & writing style | I am a literate and write in the First-person Limited View Point (Meaning it will be told from Imara's perspective, she is telling stories from her viewpoint. What she sees, hears, feels, and such), para to Novella. That is about 200 plus words. I prefer multi-paragraphs that are detailed and move the storyline onwards. oneline paragraphs with supporting details are allowed. No straight up one-liners or semi-para writers, you will be denied-or blocked. I am a heavy supernatural themed rper. Anything to do with Vampires, werewolves, and more, are what I go for. Crime, gore, torture, and other crossovers are highly looked over and either denied-or blocked. I will however, not do smut-until she is of legal age-anything illegal or harmful will never be allowed on my page. Anything rl that has to do with illegal or harmful stuff will be reported. If you send me inappropriate content, You will be blocked immediately. •  Age requirements | My Character is a 16 year old girl/Werecheetah. She is a teen so any NSFW Content is currently not allowed, Not until she is 18 years old or older. •  30 day Policy | I am inacting a 30 day policy. If you have accepted my request or I yours. You have 30 days to read my information and sign my rules. Sign with this:  *Failer to sign will get you a deletion. Three times? It will be a block* If you need more time then please let me know and I will give you time. However no communication will result in you not being on my page.•  Communication | Talking to me about plotting and getting things going is a must. No random starters or pictures with NSFW Content on it in your first message to me. Gross. Grow up and be an adult, introduce yourself to me as though meeting a new person or co-worker. Simply saying "hi", doesn't cut it. You can call me "The Storyteller".•  NSFW Content | There will be no smut until she is 18 or older, however, there can be blood, gore, horror, some torture involved in her stories. I'm not comfortable with writing sexual themes until she is an adult. Sorry.•  Collaboration | It takes two to come up with a storyline. If your not willing to help give me some ideas after i give you some of mine, then you will be gone. I will not deal with people who can't help get a sl going with me. It's not a one way street, it's a two way. We both - you and me - need to work together to start an epic journey with each other.•  Place of writing | All out of character and plot discussions will be done in messages. It is easier for me to keep track that way. Storylines however will be seperated and put into a group forum along with drabbles and other writings. This is so I can track all my stories in one place and my discussions and plotting in another.•  No hard feelings | If you lose inspiration for our thread or you want to change something about it. Tell me. If you want to leave and end our story-interaction with one another-message me and we can talk and then you can go on your way. No hard feelings. Just don't dump me or our story without an explaination. It is rude."Look for the Phase to sign. It's bolded and underlined!" template credit.

1. No minors. I am 35 in real life and no thank you.2. Don't rush me through replies. Sometimes life gets busy and you just have to deal with that.3. Not that there is anything to steal, but if I have something displayed for others to see on here, do NOT jock or "steal" it from me. Chances are that I put some WORK into creating or designing it.4. Put some effort into your posts. I don't want to be the only one coming up with ideas that have to do with the story that WE are creating.5. I prefer messages over comments and please DO NOT ask me for personal information INCLUDING DISCORD. I do not give it out for obvious (or not obvious) reasons. 

CHARACTER INFORMATION.https://www.roleplayer.me/THESTORYTELLER"My Journey into the real world is just beginning. Here I am no one. I am not a Princess with subjects." ⛧ · · ─────── ·☽◯☾· ─────── · · ⛧General InfoName: Imara Karama. (Adopted TBD when I have adopted family for her.)Nickname: Ima & MaraTitles: Princess, Little Cheetah.Name Meaning: Imara – ‘strong’ (Swahili), Karama - 'gift’ (Swahili)Name Pronounced: Imara – ‘IY-Maa-aa' (Swahili), Karama - 'Kaa-RAA-Maa’ (Swahili)Gender: FemaleRace: Cheetah ShifterBirthday: March 9th, 2008Age: 16 Years Old ⛧ · · ─────── ·☽◯☾· ─────── · · ⛧Appearance:Height: 5'8"Weight: 100 (Both cat and human form)Hair: brown curly hairSkin: She has a heart-shaped face with fine bone structure.Distinguishing marks:Eyes: Almond-shaped, deep brown eyes with thick dark lashes.Clothing: She will often wear black or clorful clothes. (Depending on her mood or what is going on.)Gear Always has: A pendant necklace.⛧ · · ─────── ·☽◯☾· ─────── · · ⛧Extras:Personality: Imara Karama can be quick to anger, to lash out when she feels threatened or others are threatened. It's hard for her to let go of her anger.Temperament: She is mild in temperment. On one case she can be sweet and on the other; she can be sweet when she has to be.Religious beliefs: African traditional Religion; Polythesim (More than one Deity)Political stance: Doesn't follow Politics.Hobbies: Lounging in trees, stalking and playing catch me if you can.Habits: She will use trees to get the pent up anger out.⛧ · · ─────── ·☽◯☾· ─────── · · ⛧Quirks/eccentricities:Likes: Deer Meat, Squirrel Meat, Beef jerky, and her Colition (Pack)Dislikes: Hunters, being bored and High pitch sounds.Strengths: Look at powers and abilities.Weaknesses: Look at powers and abilties.Short term goals: To survive as best as she can.Long term goals: To have a pack and family of her own someday.Occupation: She has none yet.Skills: Hunting, running, tracking and fighting.Secrets: She is a Princess of a Cheetah Coalition.⛧ · · ─────── ·☽◯☾· ─────── · · ⛧History and background details:Imara Karama, born on March 9th, 2008 in Swahili, Africa. A Swahili were-cheetah Princess who came to America on a ship. During a war, her parents stowed her away on a ship. She lived in the ship eating rats and other things that people threw on to the floor. Landing in America, the 16 year old girl must learn to stand on her two feet or paws and find a way to fit in. Find a new home for herself, and people who understand her. But along the way, trouble stirs, and she will find herself in many bad situations that she must overcome. One being the shift to a cheetah, and how to navigate the changes, as well as fitting into the human world. Along the way she will meet all sorts of people and other creatures. Both cruel and kind-hearted. ⛧ · · ─────── ·☽◯☾· ─────── · · ⛧  Werecheetah Information:History: Werecheetahs are originally come from Africa. Same thing like there other relatives in the Were 'family'. Werecheetahs also change when the full moon is out. When the full moon is out, it's kinda hard to control themselves not to attack others. A cool trait about the Werecheetah is that there hunting rate is a 50% chance of actually getting what it wants or not getting what it wants. It's kinda luck base, because if the animal or human takes to long to catch they give up. Werecheetahs have been around the same time Werewolves have been. The Werecheetah does trust as many of the were species as other can do. Physical Appearance: When they turn, they turn into a full Cheetah. They slightly, but you can't really notice it, longer tails than cheetahs. One unique trait that the Werecheetah has is when you can, your hair actually stays with. They're eye color is Honey/Hazel. They do have claws, sometimes when the Werecheetah is super angry their claws will grow even longer then they usually are.Powers and Abilities: A Werecheetah possesses a number of physical and passive powers.Super Strength: Werecheetah possess superhuman levels of strength that allow them to break through chains and deadbolt locks, punch through brick and marble walls, and throw grown men across a room with ease.Super Speed: Werecheetah can run much faster than even the most athletic human beings, Werewolves, and being able to keep up with vehicles such as motorcycles that are driving at top speeds. They can also run on all fours (hands and feet) in both human and in Werecheetah form.Super Agility/Reflexes: Werecheetah's possess supernaturally enhanced agility and reflexes that allow them to leap very high and across large distances, jump from several stories up and land lightly on their feet, and perform a multitude of acrobatic, gymnastic and martial feats such as flips, handsprings, and spinning kicks. They can also process moving objects much better than humans can, allowing them to catch projectiles in mid-air and dodge speeding bullets before they can be hit. Their use of this power is usually instinctive, and newly-turned Werecheetah have been seen performing impressive gymnastic routines with no training.Super Durability: Though Werecheetah can still sustain open wounds like any other creature, they are much more durable to blunt force trauma than the regular human, allowing them to be thrown through walls and fall from tall heights without fatal injury. They can also endure a great deal more physical damage for a much longer period of time than an ordinary human, as Werecheetah's have been known to fight through dozens of gunshot wounds, stab wounds, burns, and broken bones that would normally incapacitate a regular person.Super Senses: Werecheetah, like their counterparts, have extremely sensitive senses of sight, hearing, and smell. They can see in total darkness and across large distances with great clarity, track scents for up to several miles and can hear whispered conversations across great distances and from outside of buildings with ease. Using their sense of smell in particular they can interpret the chemosignals that indicate identity and emotional states, a skill that, with practice, can be developed to the point of a supernatural sense of empathy; it has also been revealed that Werecheetah's can even sense sexual desire through scent. These abilities help Werecheetah's fight at night, hear approaching enemies, and locate missing people by scent. A Werecheetah's glowing eyes can also be used to see mystical or supernatural phenomena that cannot be perceived by human eyes, such as a Nemeton, or a Kitsune's aura.Accelerated Healing: Werecheetah possess an extraordinarily enhanced healing factor that allows them to heal from most mild to moderate wounds within moments. They have been shown to heal quickly from gunshots, stab wounds through the chest, abdomen and extremities, and broken arms, legs, and spines, though most cannot heal from a broken neck; while varying among different ranks of Werecheetah's, broken bones can usually heal instantly after they've been reset, and depending on the severity, stab wounds and gunshots can usually resolve themselves in minutes to hours based on how deep the wounds are and whether or not vital organs were damaged in the process. Werecheetah are also immune to the majority of human illnesses and conditions such as colds, cancer, epilepsy, asthma, etc. For this reason, they cannot get high on drugs or drunk on alcohol—because the "high" is technically caused by the substance inflicting some kind of damage on the body, the Werecheetah can heal this damage faster than the effects can be felt. The only toxic substances that Werecheetah's are not immune to are yellow wolfsbane, mistletoe and the modified canine distemper virus that was specifically designed to kill supernatural creatures. They are also vulnerable to the paralytic effects of Kanima venom, though, with concentration, their accelerated healing ability will allow them to process through the toxin and overcome its effects much more quickly than a normal human.Longevity: Because a Werecheetah's rapid cellular healing prevents them from contracting any human illness or condition and replaces aging cells at a constant rate, Werecheetah have a tremendously extended lifespan. It is unknown what the average life expectancy of a Werecheetah is.Shapeshifting: Werecheetah have the ability to shape their features into that of a partially lupine form, which involves glowing eyes, fangs, claws, a ridged brow, pointed ears and large sideburns. With practice, Werecheetah can learn how to only transform a few selective features as needed, such as only extending their claws to cut something, their fangs to bite something, or simply making their eyes glow to enhance their eyesight or display their supernatural nature.Pain Absorption: Werecheetah have the ability to absorb pain from animals, humans, and other creatures through tactile contact. This is usually done by touching the person who is in pain, or the injured body part and drawing the pain into themselves, which manifests as the Werecheetah's veins darkening as their body processes it. Initially, a Werecheetah can only essentially "take the edge off" of a person's pain level, but with practice, they can eventually learn to take it completely.Weaknesses :Mountain Ash: Since Werecheetah's are supernatural creatures, they are vulnerable to rowan, both in its wood form and its incinerated form known as mountain ash. As a result, not only can they not touch or handle it, but they can also be barred from entering an area that has been warded with an unbroken circle of it, and can also be trapped within a circle in the same way.Wolfsbane: This could possibly be because cheetah's are a feline species, not a canine species like the aforementioned shapeshifters, making them less vulnerable to the herb. It is unknown what effects, if any, other forms of wolfsbane, such as the blue and purple varieties, would have on Werecheetah's.Full Moon: Werecheetah's, like Werewolves and Werecoyotes, are beholden to the full moon, as it is the source of their powers. During a full moon, a Werecheetah's powers will be enhanced to even stronger levels, but also come with a cost of enhanced agitation, aggression, and bloodlust that they will need to learn to control to prevent exposing their supernatural identity to humans and Hunters. Werecheetah's without training will be overcome with such rage and aggression that they will be compelled to attack any living creature they cross who crosses their path.Intense Emotions: Like their Werewolf and Werecoyote counterparts, Werecheetah's transformations can be triggered by increased heart rates, which means that intense emotions such as anger, fear, stress, or lust can cause them to transform if they do not learn how to control their pulse. While pain usually helps shapeshifters remain human instead of transforming, it can have the opposite effect if the pain causes the shapeshifter to become angry.Lunar Eclipse: Since Werewolves and Werecoyotes, who are beholden to the moon just like Werecheetah's, lose their powers during the phase in a lunar eclipse when the moon is in the Earth's umbral shadow, it can be assumed that Werecheetah's will also lose their powers during this lunar phase as well.Electricity (possibly): Electricity is a weakness that seems to be shared by most animalistic shapeshifters, such as Werewolves and Werecoyotes, indicating that it could be a Werecheetah's weakness as well.Behavior: The WereCheetah attends to some short temper problems. WereCheetahs are like this is because if they don't get what the want, need, or whatever it is, they get angry easily. Some WereCheetahs have learned to control there temper, which is a good thing. Most of the time if they are short tempered, they Usally turn. WereCheetahs are very adventurous in the Were 'family'. WereCheetahs love to explore the outdoors, even know there humans, they like the outdoors a little bit better then being cooped up in home or at school. WereCheetahs are protective of anything. Even though it's hard for the WereCheetahs to trust some other were creatures or anything like that, they are always so protective. They are great fighters with there speed and strengths.Favorite Foods: Were-cheetahs eat strictly meat, preferably freshly killed. Their catlike origins show in every aspect of their life. They lounge in the limbs of tall trees, lick their fur clean and even roll in the grass with the innocence of kittens. When it’s time to hunt, however, few can mistake their true natures. They will eat any animal, like, gazelles,  the antelope and the impala. The young of larger mammals such as wildebeests and zebras are taken at times, and adults too, when werecheetahs hunt in groups.⛧ · · ─────── ·☽◯☾· ─────── · · ⛧Relationship InfoMother: Mrs Karama. (Presumed to be dead)Father: Mr. Karama. (Presumed to be dead)⛧ · · ─────── ·☽◯☾· ─────── · · ⛧Events and History:Recent notable events: Currently she is roaming America, hoping to find a family of her own, or at least a family who would adopt her into their family. Bad events in the past: A war started in her area of Swahili, and her family moved to a cave to escape it, but she was sent by her parents to a ship and stoewed away, and thus headed to America, hidden on it.Good events in the past: She had a celebration of her coming of age and established her right as the heir to the throne of her Cheetah Coalition. ⛧ · · ─────── ·☽◯☾· ─────── · · ⛧ "I am just a young girl looking for a family and suriving the best I can. A werecheetah navigating the human world on her own." template credit.

                                                          GUIDELINES   Rule#1: This is a highly Star Wars roleplay for my Rey Skywalker. I will only roleplay Star Wars sorry.    Rule #2: I ONLY write with Star Wars characters, others will be selective to roleplay with me.    Rule#3: I write at my own pace. I like to write in story form with our characters. I like to use more detail in my roleplay. I would like it if someone would start the plot first or we discuss it.   Rule#4: DRAMA POLICY. I don’t appreciate people controlling my character. I will block you. So keep it away from here.    Rule #5:Roleplaying : I will write dark themes, sexual content (take this to private (Discord).  You have been warned – I won’t apologize for this. If exploring dark themes isn’t your bag or makes you uncomfortable, I will not be offended if you don’t add me   Rule #6: Connections: Main Connections :Any one who is interested in roleplaying with Rey and getting to know her before Roleplaying dating (that is all not RL Dating)    More to come!  

----Trigger Warnings----Tauriel remembers every detail of that fatal night. A reverent that curled around her mind in her waking hours or sleep, much like the spirited mist that coiled around the surrounding mountains. A pale noose that sometimes suffocated her, taking her every breath and haunted her mind.When the howling of Rhîw splintered between thin blackened trendies hanging from the tree's hypnotized in its cold embrace. It awakened her from her slumber right before the Orcs entered her village, as if the Valar themselves were trying to warn them all before the pillaging began. The swaying of the pendulum in the next room clicked from left to right as swiftly and clear as Quell. The breeze right before the very first scream pierced the air like the tip of a dagger and a deep, resounding thud as the springs bounced off the wooden floor, awakening her parents in the next room.A heavy silence filled the air before her, nadar's voice screamed out for Tauriel to hide, as he had taught her. She slipped swiftly out of the warmth of her covers for the very last time and under the wooden planks under the privacy of her bed. It was a hidden cubby he made for her, and her naneth if trouble every brewed while he was away. He kept it stocked with a week of supplies and weapons in case they needed to stay for more than a day. She couldn't stop shivering as she backed her small frame into the stone-cornered wall and slipped down, holding her trembling knees against her chest as she watched the shadows between the floor boards. And suddenly, Tauriel covered her ears at once when she heard her naneth's gurgling cries and nadar's final roar before a swift steel blade plummeted into his chest. She cannot recall how long she stayed under the floorboards. Tauriel felt as frozen as a gentle leaf in the middle of a catastrophic Rhiw storm. But the scent of rotten eggs, charred flesh, and iron filtered heavily into the air and reminded her she was still alive as cold, sticky droplets of life spilled between the wooden floor.It must have been a few days that passed, and the last dying cries, moans faded away like the torn pages of an old book her nadar would sometimes use when he couldn't find a dried twig to light their fireplace in the colder months. Her naneth would always scoff at him for doing so, lecturing him on the time it took to make that book, and what if that was the last in existence? The words he just burned would be forever lost, she would scoff. Her Nadar would settle back into his old creaky rocking chair with a wooden pipe between his smirking lips and motion for Tauriel to join him on his lap as he snuggled her in his arms listening to his wife lecture him further. “Aye, its the past woman! And the best stories are always held in our minds and hearts.'"They are passed down from one generation to the next. Not some flattened words scribbled a bout with no feeling at all! I'm sure whatever story that was written in that book is still with the loved ones he had left," he said and began to rock softly with her in his arms in his chair. "Plus you fancy freezing to death? Miss I am cold! I am cold!" He chuckled heartly and kissed the top of Tauriel's fiery locks." I'll never know where you got this colour from lass! But I believe its a reflection of your soul." Her emerald eyes welled in tears again as she sniffled and rubbed her tiny nose knowing she would never have another memory of them again.Lost in her thoughts, she barely registered the creaking of the floor, shifting of light as King Thranduil's men found her there. She was catatonic, and they must have called her a million times before one decided to jump down and a loom of dust from the dirt beneath his feet splattered around, awakening her from her dreams as she looked up towards him. "Are you a Maia?" her raspy, brittle voice from lack of fluids asked in a whispered breath. "No, I am not Henig. Odulen an edraith anlen. We come to take you to the palace where you can recover, and we will find you a new home in the inner sanctuary of the Village." He spoke gently and quickly scooped her up, and she didn't realize how weak she actually felt as she slumped into his chest as he crawled out of her family's secret dwelling, she would see her parents again.Their lifeless bodies lay unnaturally on the floor. The skin was as pale as the moon and hung barely on their bones. Their eyes were still open wide but soulless, and their mouths were agape from their silent screams. In that split second Tauriel went from having no strength at all to kicking and fighting away from the gentle soldier that held her and sunk by her naneth's body. And even though there was pools of blood she crawled into her frame like a baby and laced her small arms over her naneth's lifeless heart. "Wake up Nana! Oh wake up! Please! I do not want to leave here I want to stay with you or come back and take me too! Take me too!!!" She sobbed and squinted her eyes tight and perched her lips as her breathing hitched. "You promised you would never leave me! You promised! Come back! Come back!!!” Her voice hoarse, her body feeling the weight of every tears ahs she pounded her tiny fist into her nana's chest before sinking completely into her motionless arms and tried to lace them around her slender shoulders. At first Thranduil's men just stood frozen. Their eyes peeled at the little girl, and they occasionally glanced at the other unsure what to do. But they knew it was only a matter of time before trouble would befall again and they needed to gather the survivors and the dead too. The same soldier who first held her in his arms tired to at first encourage her gently into his arms. But Tauriel resisted and screamed, spatting in his face and clung to her naneth as another soldier had to assist, even though she was just a little lass. "No! Noooooo!!!," Tauriel screamed before finally sinking into his chest again and she felt even more tired than she did before as the world around her muted into nothingness. "We will give them proper burial and you could visit them whenever you wish," he tried to reassure her. But his words felt as lifeless at that moment as her once vibrant village as he carried her away, and that was all she could remember, as she must have fainted in his arms, wanting to dream it all away.When Tauriel awakened again, her old painted walls were replaced by fine, smooth marble, tapestries, and a heady scent of lavender's and myrrh, and the sound of fresh springs spilling over perfectly shaped rocks could be heard in the distance. Skyward lights from the morning star splintered purposefully through an arrangement of mirrors perfectly orchestrated, filling the area beneath, and even the tiny dusting sparkled heavenly in the room, making Tauriel feel as if she were in a dream. But as a shadow blocked out the light that temporarily warmed her skin, meaning to bring her comfort, but instead reminded her of why she was there. It was the voice of the soldier who must have brought her there.The sacred healing springs in Thranduil's palace, and as he spoke with words meant to bring her solace, all she could see and think of was her parents spread across the floor in her childhood home. Tauriel would not even look at him or cast a single gaze his way. It was too painful and too much for her to bear, and she no longer shook in fear but with the thought of never allowing another village to suffer as she just did. Her emerald eyes fixed on the glint of two swords that hung on the wall in the distance, and she drew in a breath, feeling as if it was the first one she ever took in her entire young life, and she swallowed back the last bit of sorrow and spoke in a pristine, clear voice to the soldier. "Teach me. Teach me all you know, so I can fight alongside you one day. I may be young, barely a knee, but my nadar has been training me since the time I began to walk. I will not let your efforts go to waste.”The little girl she once was no longer what laid on that bed now. She stayed with her parents in her childhood home and was replaced by a spirit that would revenge her parents deaths and not allow another family, nor village to be torn apart again. With a look of certainly unwavering resolve upon her face, Tauriel let the last tear she would cry for that day slip past the curve of her cherub face. Her emerald eyes now fixated upon his dark azure's in the healing room, and she spoke once again. But her voice was strong, almost fierce, and he could tell she would not take no for an answer. "Teach me everything you know, and I will bring you every head of an Orc I come across. I assure you of this." He smoothed his large hand over her own and threaded his fingers with hers as he nodded slowly and squeezed it tight, seeing the determination in her eyes and a soul of a fearless warrior in her eyes. "I will teach you all I know and guide you in the best way I can. You have my word. My promise young henig as long as you promise to not waste the life you still have and seek beauty and be fearless in love again."Tauriel could not speak as he spoke kindly to her and with such care, reminding her of her nadar as tears welled in her eyes, so she simply nodded in agreement and squeezed his hand. 

A Prostitute sat on the throne of a King,a bad omen, a twisted blasphemy,golden crown, diamond ring,that was her destiny.

THE DARK BEFORE DAWN- THE NARROWS-Rewritten drabble/Expanded for Marionette “Well, if you’re lookin’ for work, I could probably use another good bartender in this joint. Especially someone handy like you, who could double as a bouncer when the fightin’ starts. As long as you don’t actually go lookin’ for trouble. You got lucky I saved your ass this time before that guy cut your throat, but don’t push it, pal.”Alfred was dismayed to find himself actually considering Harvey Bullock’s employment offer. After living for nearly a month in The Narrows, Gotham’s impoverished, notoriously crime-ridden island district, the former butler of Wayne Manor knew his bank balance would need to be supplemented sooner than later. The possibility of tending bar where Bullock had taken refuge after resigning from the GCPD was both a blessing and a new low.But Harvey was right. He did stumble onto the scene, after emerging from the men’s toilet at almost the last possible minute, to save Alfred from certain death. Bullock deserved some respect based on that fact alone.“I just may take you up on that one, mate,” Alfred nodded, absently staring down his empty shot glass. “Reckon it’s something to consider, i’nnit? At this stage, at least.” Just weeks earlier, teenage billionaire Bruce Wayne sacked Pennyworth as both his legal guardian and family butler, effectively terminating his salary and all connections to the home Alfred knew before Bruce had even been born.“Aw c’mon, you make it sound like it’s the worst decision you could make around here.” Ever the attentive barkeep, Harvey was already tipping the bottle over Alfred’s glass for yet another refill. “This place ain’t so bad. Sure, it’s The Narrows, but like I said, I like this bar. It’s got history. And besides, with your luck lately, and after what we went through tonight, I’m startin’ to think we might make a pretty good team after all.”Captain Jim Gordon had left their company well over an hour before, having heard the radio dispatch alerting that his escaped murder suspect, Alfred Pennyworth, had gotten into a brawl at a nearby drinking hole with the real perp who implicated Alfred in the death of waitress Tiffany Gale. Alfred was seemingly already in the clear once the real offender was led away in cuffs, but Bullock, refusing Gordon’s subsequent request to return to the force, unapologetically told Jim to hit the bricks. Such drama unfolded while Alfred mourned the fresh loss of his murdered friend, a woman he barely knew despite their intense connection at a nearby diner.If ever a night called for strong booze and commiseration between two disgruntled souls in a Narrows dive bar, this was it.“I shall sleep on it, Harvey.” Alfred lifted his eyes, watching as the former detective defied city ordinance by pouring himself another shot while still on the clock behind the bar. What use was there for law in The Narrows? Thanks to Jerome Valeska and all of Dr. Strange’s mutated minions, Gotham was fast descending into a lawless free-for-all well beyond the city’s usual chaos. If current trends continued, The Narrows might prove safer than the rest of Gotham. So what good was common sense or even decency, anymore?Mr. Yes Sir, No Sir! Mr. Queensberry Rules and Discipline, Alfred’s military comrade, Reginald Payne, once called him. Alfred was starting to wonder if he’d been wrong to believe skill and hard work made it all worthwhile. Without a sense of purpose, Alfred could feel himself becoming dangerously disgruntled.Oh, if only you could see me from the grave now, Reg. You’d have a right good laugh, wouldn’t you?Almost as if he read Alfred’s mind, Bullock clinked their glasses together. Another drink was shared after multiple earlier toasts made in Tiffany’s memory, thanks to Bullock’s Irish sentimentality. “Well, at least you’ll be sleeping in your own bed tonight, and not in a cell at the precinct. Believe me, listening to Gordon’s holier-than-thou bullsh*t right now’s the last thing you need, even if you weren’t already cocked, locked and ready to rock.”“I thought you were good mates, not just partners, you and Gordon,” A bleary-eyed but still conscious Alfred stated matter-of-factly. Being present while Bullock directly questioned Jim Gordon’s questionable conduct with Gotham’s criminal underworld had been awkwardly enlightening. But Alfred was in no hurry to return to his dingy little flat a few blocks away. Patience and persistence paid off when he was forced to secure acceptable housing in the Narrows on a newly restricted budget. But after losing Tiffany that night, and narrowly avoiding being framed as her killer, Alfred did not relish being alone with his rage.“Yeah, well, sometimes friendships aren’t all that, am I right?” Bullock pointed to Alfred’s newly drained glass, but the Whitechapel native refused another drink with a polite wave of his hand.“In light of recent events, I’m inclined to agree.” Alfred could feel the weight of Bullock’s well-meaning stare. Both men were skilled in the art of observation and interrogation. Harvey couldn’t shake his training any more than Alfred could fully shed his own. They were both soldiers who fought very different wars but recognized a commonality between them.“Well, I don’t know what all happened with you and Bruce to get you to leave a cushy life at Wayne Manor for The Narrows,” Harvey offered, “but if it makes you feel any better, just try to imagine Bruce waking up with a killer hangover, a ton of regret and having to make his own breakfast or mop up his own…”.Bullock’s poor attempt to lighten the gloom was interrupted by the buzzing of Alfred’s mobile phone. Reaching into the pocket of the casual jacket he’d been wearing all evening, Alfred produced the phone and stared at the caller ID.Bruce Wayne. Once upon a time, not long ago, the boy’s name had flashed across the screen more affectionately as Master B.“I’ll make myself scarce.” Harvey could read the caller’s identity in Alfred’s expression and was already sauntering away to give the man some privacy. But Alfred merely muted the call and dismissively slipped the phone back into the depths of his coat.You’ve got a lot of bloody nerve ringing me at this hour, Brucie. I don’t give a toss. Not after tonight. Not after the past month. The bitterness of his own thoughts simultaneously broke Alfred’s heart and left him numb, his ability to feel anything threatening to leave him altogether. It was a frightening possibility, and welcome all at once.“That’s what voicemail is for,” Alfred said aloud, surprising even himself at his refusal to take Bruce’s call. “Innit?” Carefully sliding off his barstool, he tried settling his tab but met some resistance from Bullock.“Your money’s only good for the first four, Alfred. The rest are on the house, at least for tonight.” Harvey noted the former butler seemed slightly unsteady, but did not worry much about how Alfred might get safely back to wherever he was currently calling home. The tough old Brit already dodged the Reaper once that night. He could take care of himself for the remainder, even in the Narrows. Judging by the defiance in Alfred’s eyes, Harvey figured anyone stupid enough to try jumping the old guy in some alley would get far worse than a knife to the throat.“Give the job some thought, man. You know where to find me if you’re looking for an honest gig to pay the rent.”“You’re a good man, Bullock. Kindly disregard all the nasty things I’ve called you in the past.” Alfred stifled a hiccup and rifled through his wallet, slapping a handsome tip on the bar despite his unemployed status. “Well, apart from your slovenly state of dress, mate. It’s appalling, really. Have you ever met an iron in your life?”Alfred’s tired grin reassured the other man that it was all mostly in jest, prompting a head shake and chuckle from Harvey Bullock as they shook hands in farewell. It was time for Pennyworth to take his leave while he could still feel his legs.***The night air’s stink of decay, death and corruption, even more prevalent in The Narrows than in the entirety of Gotham City, did little to clear Alfred’s head as he trudged along the shadowy streets leading to his new residence. The quantities of Irish whiskey Harvey so liberally served back at the bar may have temporarily subdued his fury, but stepping back out into the maze of hopelessness and despair only worsened his mood.Visions of Tiffany haunted him from that very night, his last glimpse of her gazing fearfully from her murderous boyfriend’s car window and the subsequent wide-eyed stare projected from her battered, discarded corpse played on loop in his head. He’d seen the intent in the bastard’s eyes, recognized all the signs of violent intent, yet still Tiffany had gotten into that car with her abuser. She didn’t heed Alfred’s warnings, wouldn’t accept his protection. He could have saved her, he was certain of it. He only wanted her to be safe, to still be here. But she didn’t listen.And neither had Bruce. The boy was still out there making bad decisions all on his own while the city’s lunatic villains were wreaking havoc on the city. Bruce was at risk. And Alfred no longer had any say in the matter.Over a month’s worth of emotional blows was taking a toll. Was that all it took to weaken the former soldier’s resolve, to make him lose faith in his own life’s purpose? Four weeks in, and you’re ruffled by some bloody teenager and a woman you barely knew? Alfred spat bitterly to himself as he stared down at his booted feet, no longer caring that his surroundings were so sparsely illuminated by streetlights that anyone with sinister intent could be lurking in the shadows, ready to strike. He blended with the inky darkness in his casual black attire, hands thrust in the pockets of his jacket, a strange state of disorientation overwhelming him. The shock was wearing off, a familiar pang of anguish rising from the pit of his belly.Serve. Stand guard. Protect. It was everything Alfred Pennyworth took pride in doing, his purpose, his meaning. The man was self-sufficient and could certainly look out for himself, but needed a reason that mattered. Having only himself to look after when no one else benefited always led to one grim reality. Without boundaries, his anger would feed upon its host.Discipline, soldier! Sir, yes, Sir!Give me a reason. Just one bloody reason!The rage resurfaced, welling up from some deep recess and flooding his veins like the madness of a were-beast transformed by the full moon. Infuriated by a heap of trash bins partially blocking his path outside an adjacent alley, Alfred roared at them with a savage kick, scattering the barrels into the street. A stab of pain seized his chest, a wave of nausea churning violently in his stomach. Pitching himself into the alley, Alfred braced himself with a palm to the grimy brick wall, dry retching as he fought to keep from falling to his knees.Maybe he was having a heart attack. Or maybe it was heartbreak. Either way, Alfred feared he was coming apart.“Ugh. Bloody hell. F*** it!” Only after his stomach’s multiple attempts to empty itself did Alfred realize he’d started to weep. Absently rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his dark jacket, he dug into a pocket and produced a handkerchief to wipe at his mouth. This couldn’t be his fate, not shattering into a thousand pieces in a Narrows alley, far from Wayne Manor and everything - and everyone - he’d come to love. He wouldn’t allow it. He needed to persevere, to fight his own downfall every second, if need be. Even if it meant reporting to Harvey Bullock’s as some glorified dive bar bouncer.“One hour at a time, Pennyworth,” he muttered aloud, scolding himself for even thinking of succumbing to bad old habits. There was no Thomas Wayne to save him from the path of self-destruction this time. Alfred had to rely on himself and no one else to make it through.A rustle of movement from somewhere nearby caught Alfred’s attention. He wasn’t alone in the alley.“Hello?” Suddenly he was sobering up quickly. Despite how his head was still swimming, every sense was on high alert. His hands automatically reaching for the pistol tucked into his back holster, Alfred strained to see through the shadows, listening for further movement, waiting to be attacked.And there she was, a young blonde crouched against the wall. Surely she must have witnessed the man’s unraveling from just a few feet away. Lowering his firearm but still keeping a steady grip of the weapon, he blinked at her, confused.“You alright there, Miss?” created by creativian #stardust{ width: 500px; background: #1d1d1d; border: 1px solid #f2f2f2;} .inner{ width: 450px; background: #1d1d1d; border: 1px solid #f2f2f2; margin: 25px 10px 25px 10px;} .secondinner{ width: 430px; background: #1d1d1d; border: 1px solid #f2f2f2; margin: 9px 0px 9px 0px;} .title{ width: 350px; font-family: georgia; font-weight: 800; font-size: 50px; letter-spacing: -4px; text-transform: lowercase; margin-top: 40px; line-height: 90%; border-top: 20px solid #fff; padding-top: 40px; color: #fff;} .uppersubtitle{ font-size: 8px; font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 2px;} .bottomsubtitle{ font-size: 8px; font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 2px;} .text{ width: 350px; text-align:justify; font-size: 10.5px; margin: 40px 10px 40px 10px; line-height: 140%; color: #fff; font-family: courier; padding-bottom: 40px; border-bottom: 20px solid #fff;}

full name: rue elizabeth bellamynickname: bells age: 19 year: 7 house: hufflepuffpatronus: calico catwand: sycamore with dragon heartstring coreblood purity: mugglebornfamily: meridith bellamy (mother), alice bellamy (older sister), dahlia bellamy (younger sister).love interest: Noonefriends: ginny weasley, fred & george weasleygender: female, she/they pronouns usedsexual orientation: Bisexualphysical description: medium brown hair and green eyes. tan skin with pretty beauty marks.defining feature: striking noseopinions of you:harry: i don't know her well, she seems sweet though.hermione: she's friends with fred and george. i love hanging out with her at the burrow!ron: best friends with my brothers. she seems fun and puts up with them, kudos to her.ginny: my gorgeous girl. we've known each other always, she's my favourite.fred: horrible, unfunny, disgusting. wait no! tell her i was joking! please, i beg you!george: one of the bestest friends you could ask for. she helped me ask out lee. 

full name: thalia marie colemannickname: tally (by hermione)age: 16height: 5'6year: 6 (same as golden trio)house: gryffindorpatronus: cobrawand: acacia with veela hair coreblood purity: half-bloodfamily: theodora coleman (mother), barrett coleman (father), rhys coleman (younger brother).love interest: Noonefriends: harry potter, hermione granger, ron weasley, dean thomas, seamus finnigangender: female,  she/they pronouns usedsexual orientation: bisexualphysical description: dark brown hair and green eyes. brown skin that lights up a room.defining feature: perfect browsopinions about you:harry: thalia is wonderful. she's the fourth corner to our group.hermione: i adore her. she's my one and only crush. *blows a kiss*ron: i'm happy for her and mione. they're my best friends.dean: we grew up together, stayed friends through hogwarts. send her my best.seamus: ol' tally never knew what hit her when she and dean became friends with me, that's for sure!luna: hermione and thalia are a beautiful couple. their aura is immaculate. dumbledore: a bright witch, that one.

Christine placed her hand on her youngest son's shoulder "It's all going to be alright, bambino." Bambino. The only time Christine ever used that term was to console one of her children during some of their darkest times. Earlier that day Ender had arrived to the home he has shared Amelia for the last year - building a life with her as they raised their daughter together. Something didn't seem right as he stepped through the front doors. Stumbling back he took in the site before him. Pulling his phone from his pocket, dialing his mother's number. "Ma, I'm gonna need you keep Ev for a little longer." his voice was softer than he anticipated. "Everything alright?" She replied. "I'll explain when I get there". Alright? How could everything be alright? Nothing prepares you for walking into your home and seeing who is supposed to be the love of your life bent over the sofa by her pilates instructor. 'He's gay babe' my ass, something about him was always off. Now we know. Ender took a mental note to burn the sofa later. Two weeks in. How do you know when something is completely over. Is it when they are distant.  When you are distant. Or is it a hope and a prayer that it's not. Even when you know deep down that it is. That loving you could be fatal. Is it when you feel completely hopeless inside.  Like nothing you do or say will make a difference. Is it when you feel like your world is crashing down, and there's nothing you can do to stop it. Everything's not okay. This is not okay. We are not okay. petending doesn't make this any easier.  Pretending that loving you wasn't going to be fatal. Holding onto nothing. You gave just enough, just enough to make it better. Why'd you have to be like that. Loving you was fatal. You wanted another piece. And foolishly it was given it to you. Just take a piece and go. It won't be different this time around. He knows he meant nothing. Loving you was always going to be fatal and he was just to blind to see it. Lightning flashed through the sky followed by the low rumble. It had to be tonight of all nights that it decided to storm. Perfect setting for a break down. Everything that he had done up to this point to keep himself together had now failed. Collapsing to the ground his fingers wrapped around the pendant that hung around his neck. The first thing she ever gave him. His whole world felt like it was crashing around him and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Sometimes things happen and you have no control over it. You just have to feel it and let it happen. You have to come to terms with the fact that it's not always all love, sunshine, rainbows and butterflies. There was always a darker side of things. Ripping the pendant from his neck, no use in keeping it now, he tossed it across the room. The soft clang as it hit the wall ripped through him. It was over. It was really over. Three months later. Everyone would have thought it would have taken much longer than a month to get over everything. But truth be told, it had been over long before. To everyone else they had a picture perfect relationship but behind closed doors it was nothing but a mess. It wasn't unlike Ender to have to call his mother or one of his brothers to come get their daughter so she wouldn't be exposed to the fighting. But for that little girl he was willing to do whatever took to make it work. Until now there had only been rumors of someone being unfaithful. One month to pull himself together, clean up the house - wipe every memory of Amelia from his life. One month of curving everytime Everly asked for her mother. No one expected Amelia to abandon her, but there she was wanting nothing to do with their child. Every attempt that was made went unanswered, no text, email or calls. Nothing.During this time, without Ender's knowledge, Reece had dug into why Amelia would leave her cozy life with him. "Don't hate me but I did something" Reece said as he slid the envelope across the counter. Why did everyone have this habit of giving him new through an envelope. "The f*** did you do now?" Sighing he picked up the envelope, pulling out the contents of it. "First of all, how did you get her phone records? Scratch that. I don't want to know." With a little smirked Reece shrugged his shoulders "Ways little brother. I have my ways. If she didn't look exactly like you, poor child, I'd recommend a dna test". Reece tilted his head in the direction of the livingroom where Everly was currently engrossed in some TV show. "Do you not remember the whole thing? Me finding out she was mine? Mom crying, not sure if she was horrified or happy." "She was horrified her that precious baby boy" Reece paused making a gagging noise "banged and knocked up some random girl. Not going to lie, thought I'd be the first to do that. Not you. Kind of proud of you baby brother" "Stop f***ing calling me that" Ender huffed while rolling his eyes. "Good god man, you need to re-f***ing-lax." Picking his phone up off the counter, he pulled up Amelia's contact.   I see everything so clearly now. I could have given you the world. My heart was open for you. But instead of taking it and letting me love you, you plunged a knife into my chest. I was never what you wanted. I was a temporary fix. Just someone you stung along until the one you actually wanted took you back. I was always going to be your second choice. I can't believe i let you into my life only for you to f*** me over like this. Go f*** yourself, Amelia.   "What are you writing a damn novel?" Letting out the breath he had been holding in, he slid the phone across the counter. "Read." Reece took Ender's phone, skimming over the text on the screen. "Such an angry little hobbit. I love it. Annnd send" "Reece what the f*** did you do?!" "Uh sent it?""F***. I didn't want to send it you d*ckhead. It's called letting your emotions out. Like the whole write a letter but don't send it kind of thing. Didn't they teach you that in rehab?""Oops? It's fine. Don't get your panties twisted. Uh....""God what now?""She's calling.""What?""Amelia, she's calling.""I'm gonna have a heart attack.""I'm just kidding. Jesus, relax. But someone is calling you."

┊         ┊       ┊   ┊    ┊        ┊ ┊         ┊       ┊   ┊   ˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ ┊         ┊       ┊   ✧ ┊      ┊       ☪⋆ ┊ ⊹ ✧ ⋆     ┊ . ˚ ˚✩ ________________________________ ⋙₍table of contents • i. . . basics • ii. . . personality • iii. . . appearance • iiii. . . relationships • iiiii. . . background ________________________________ ䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀ ↳i. basics ↳₍name: Emily Alexander Swan   ↳₍nickname(s): Em   ↳₍gender female + her/she    ↳₍sexuality + romantic identity bi + demi   ↳₍height 5ft   ↳₍species Omega White Winter Fox Demon/Sinner   ↳₍age 100   ↳₍year died in ?   ↳₍birthdate 10.01   ↳₍sin Lust/Greed   ↳₍death ?   ↳₍powers Shape Shift   ䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀ ↳ii. personality ⁑⇸good traits •happy •nice •caring •loving •sweet •cheerful   ⁑⇸neutral traits •calm   ⁑⇸bad traits •anxious  •overwhelmed  •sad ䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀ ↳iii. appearance  skin picture   face picture    body petite    clothes depends ䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀ ↳iiii. relationships    ⋙ friends  --Angel --Cherri --Charlie Credits: SodapØp

We are currently on a waitlist for MALE AND FEMALE roles.When a spot becomes available - we will message you and you'll have 24 hours to respond with your audition If we don't get a response, we will move on to the next person on the list and delete your comment. You will have to resign if you miss your chance, so make sure you're checking back daily!Please ensure that before you put your name here that you have read and signed the rules.We are so thrilled you want to consider Eldridge your home, sign below with the neighborhood you want most!

Season OneMadison ClarkNick ClarkDaniel SalazarOfelia SalazarDr. Bethany ExnerVictor StrandSeason TwoLuciana GalvezSeason ThreeTroy OttoJake OttoQaletaqa WalkerCrazy DogSeason FourAlthea (Possible LI)John DorieJuneMorgan JonesCharlie (Possible LI)Season Five & SixSarah & WendellMax, Annie & DylanDwight & SherryVirginia 

On this day it which was a gorgeous day to celebrate but through our new Orleans there was a funeral a big one too the casket would show his body all down the streets in the French quarter the dead Mayor of new Orleans but New Orleans had different kinds of funerals it was a party it was not a morning there was a huge celebration going on in town Klaus pushed through the crowd a joinging a Marcellus they were chatting about what was to do that day and yada yada Klaus laughed at his joke what he told him but he stopped mid laugh his face became serious he sniffed the air and did not Hesitate to flash away when he came to a sliding halt he looked around his eyes widened seeing the stack of fresh bodies everywhere kneeling down touching one of the bodies bite marks he knelt down to see who had done this leaning in he whispered * Stefan ? * This confused him Marcel soon appeared almost tripping on a dead human but Marcel fortunately did not * what the hell ? * Marcel looked around * it looks like a blood ripper came through here Klaus let out a sigh and stood up * who did this ? Marcel asked and Klaus * I'm not so sure but I tend to find out * Klaus said * have the others clean this up before the humans catch on I will take care of this * he flashed away to track who had left all the bodies however tracking the one who did this was fairly easy because the mountain of bodies led to Rousseau's Klaus walked into the bar seeing some of the usual bar goers with there head ripped off completely the only human alive was the bartender who had been compelled to make a drink for Stefan and after that the bartender had to slice his own throat there was a broken bottle on the bar for him to do so the look on the man's face looked terrified even though he tried to get the hell out of there he couldn't his body forced him to make the drink instead of getting to safety Klaus leaned against the door he smirked * having fun without me I see how it is Stefan * he smiled and walked to the seet besides his old friend as the bartender came with not one but two drinks he immediately grabbed the broken bottle and put it slowly to his neck Klaus said * tsk tsk tsk you always did love to play with your food Rippah * he smirked hearing the body drop when the man sliced his neck open Klaus did not flinch at the site he had just seen ...

Warren Worthington III ; Angel Shackles MM Post from @shakeitoff 20 years agoWorthington MansionThe lights were off in his room. The ethereal night wrapped him in a shroud of darkness. The 12 year old boy was gripped by the cold hand of fear. Desperation clung to him carving a hold into his heart. What was he going to do? No one could see him like this, especially not his father. Maybe, just maybe, he could work to get out of this.“Warren!” His father's voice was coming from down the hall. “Where are you son?” His footsteps were getting closer. “Warren! Answer me!” The sounds outside the door were getting closer. The door knob started to move until finally the door opened. The elder Worthington saw nothing but darkness. “Warren, why are you sitting in the dark?” He flipped on the light and found his answer.  All throughout the room there were feathers. They were beautiful white feathers when you first saw them but looking closer, these pure white feathers were smeared in blood. The twelve year old boy was sitting shirtless wearing only his denim jeans. In his hand was the carving knife from the kitchen. The elder Worthington took a few cautious steps toward his son. With his right hand he turned the boy around. There was an outline of white that looked somewhat like wings coming from his son's back. These featherless wings were covered in blood and little spots where feathers were regrowing. “Jesus boy… What the hell happened to you?” The boy said nothing. His face was saturated in tears and covered in shame. He was a freak. He was a mutant. He had seen plenty of them around with all sorts of disfigurements. Now he was one of them. No matter how many times he carved off the feathers from his body, he healed practically immediately. The wings were very big at the moment but they were big enough to be noticed. “I…I'm sorry Dad.” His pitiful voice quaked with fear and physical pain from what he was doing to himself.Worthington kept staring at the boy. His only son was a damned MUTANT? This disgrace had to be taken care of immediately. First of all, the boy needed to be checked by a doctor. Worthington had the money that he could pay for a doctor to make a house call. He slowly removed the blade from the boy's fingers. “Just let me handle this, ok? I promise everything will be alright.”two hours laterThe doctor that arrived was one of the elder Worthington's associates from the country club. By the time the doctor had arrived Warren's wounds were completely healed. The wings on his back had full plumage once more yet they were fairly small in size. There was no evidence of what had transpired earlier. “From what I can tell, his wings will get larger and he apparently has some sort of healing factor. His body is completely healed of any sort of damage. It's truly remarkable.”Young Warren sat there on a chair letting himself be examined. He could see the wheels turning in his father's mind as he stared at the boy. “I want a harness made for him to wear at all times. I don't want anyone to see my son and his little problems here. Are we clear?”The child hung his head. His father was embarrassed and ashamed of him. This broke the child at a young age. To be rejected by your own father was the worst thing ever. His hurt was worse than when he tried to cut them off his body. The doctor standing behind the boy. “Of course. I'll get on it immediately.”  present daySt. Patrick's Cathedral, Manhattan NYThere was an ornate coffin sitting in the front of this ancient church. It was open revealing an older Warren Worthington Jr in eternal repose. Mourners were there all to pay their respects to their former associate, acquaintance and devoted philanthropist who had passed away in his sleep at the age of 81. No one truly expected to see what they saw next.Walking down the aisle was Warren Worthington III dressed in a black suit as was appropriate for such a solemn event as this was. What startled some people was that Warren had not hid his massive white wings from view. He was a mutant and he was proud.His golden locks and billowy wings made him look like many of the angels in the decorum of this church. He was not going to defile this house of God in any way. What he did gave him closure however. He stood beside his father's coffin. “I look at you and feel nothing but contempt and anger for what you did to me for the past 20 years. I don't hate you. You were my father, but I don't love you either. I feel nothing. Goodbye Dad. I hope you rot in hell watching as I help mutants with your money.”Satisfied with speaking his final peace to his father, Warren's wings started moving. Those in the front rows could feel the air as it stirred up all around them. The X-Man formerly known as Angel was lifted off his feet and into the air. He exited the building via an open window near the vaulted roof of the cathedral.He was finally free.    credit: james kriet