Author Topic: Supernatural (Based on TV Series RolePlay) {Open & Accepting!}  (Read 4377 times)

Offline AbbyJoyce

  • Elder Grey Pelt
  • ****
  • Posts: 2,855
  • Floof-O-Meter: 20
  • This is my kingdom.
    • View Profile
Re: Supernatural (Based on TV Series RolePlay) {Open & Accepting!}
« Reply #10 on: May 25, 2014, 12:22:10 am »
I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.

Offline Chunky_Squirrel

  • Elder Grey Pelt
  • ****
  • Posts: 2,769
  • Country: 00
  • Floof-O-Meter: 125
  • Forever Flaming
    • View Profile
Re: Supernatural (Based on TV Series RolePlay) {Open & Accepting!}
« Reply #11 on: June 03, 2014, 06:15:34 pm »
Sorry for the hold up, yes it is alright for you to use Crowley as a NPC! ^.^
Also you are accepted! ^.^
Feel free to start! ^.^ ))

Profile picture by me! ^.^
IM BACK!!!

Offline AbbyJoyce

  • Elder Grey Pelt
  • ****
  • Posts: 2,855
  • Floof-O-Meter: 20
  • This is my kingdom.
    • View Profile
Re: Supernatural (Based on TV Series RolePlay) {Open & Accepting!}
« Reply #12 on: June 04, 2014, 07:59:43 am »

Arabella Pierce

The clicking of heels scraping against the ebony road remained barely audible beneath the pounding heart beat resonating within Arabella's ears. She limped her way down the empty black top, her limbs dripping blood from wounds hidden from sight, blood caking most of her body. She was used to it, how could she not be? Crowley wasn't the cleanest person, and it wasn't rare that Arabella was the one that was forced to clean his messes up. This time, it was a backwards deal with some lowly, half minded, witches. Of course, they failed to keep up their end of the deal and Crowley killed half their men. Their revenge? Storming his home and kidnapping him. Sadly, Arabella was home at the time, not Crowley. And she paid the price. Two years of torture, each day spent planning escape. Finally, it happened, leaving her damaged, cold, starving, and stranded on the side of the road. The signs she passed a few hours back said a small town was coming up. She glanced down at her ripped jeans, not bought that way, and her torn shirt. She felt her knees wobble with each step, the only thing keeping her from falling out was the shooting pain that seared it's way through her leg with each step. A twisted ankle was never a good thing. She's lucky she got out when she did. They busied themselves torturing her; Broken bones, tearing skin. She learned to block it out, and she was doing the exact same now.
I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.