DESTINY
UNKNOWN ENTITY
ANCIENT GUIDE
Posts: 221
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Post by DESTINY on Dec 19, 2012 18:22:02 GMT -8
| [cs=3][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding: 0px; width: 500px; background: transparent url('http://i.imgur.com/JUKLO.png') no-repeat;,true] | [atrb=width,111][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,padding-left: 8px; padding-top:3px;][classy=boorder] [/classy] | [atrb=width,76][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,padding-left: 0px; padding-top:3px;][classy=boorder2] [/classy] | [atrb=width,313][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,padding-left: 0px; padding-top:3px;] | | [cs=3][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width: 460px; text-align: center; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px;] Event 101 - Imagine | [cs=3][atrb=style,width: 460px; text-align: center; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px;]
Prerequisites | [cs=3][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width: 450px; text-align: center; padding-left: 25px; padding-right: 25px;]
This Event is made only for members who have never been in an event. There are 5 spots in total, one spot has been saved with residue for Ruki. Four spots are still open, please post below to earn your spot and pick a number between 1-5.
NOTE:THIS EVENT IS NOW OPEN TO ALL MEMBERS
Please, only use characters that have not been in an event yet. | [cs=3][atrb=style,width: 460px; text-align: center; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px;]
Task | [cs=3][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width: 450px; text-align: center; padding-left: 25px; padding-right: 25px;]
This event is pretty simple, stay alive and complete the task given to you by your numbers. Have fun, any questions please feel free to ask. | [cs=3][atrb=style,width: 460px; text-align: center; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px;]
Time stamp | [cs=3][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width: 450px; text-align: center; padding-left: 25px; padding-right: 25px;]
The date is April 28th, the weather is 70°F(21.1°C), with clear skies. The time of day would be around 1pm on a a Saturday. | [cs=3][atrb=style,width: 460px; text-align: center; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px;]
Setting | [cs=3][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width: 450px; text-align: center; padding-left: 25px; padding-right: 25px;]
This event takes place at the Wayward Art Gallery, today the gallery was celebrating the addition of a new priceless work of art. This piece of art is only released to the gallery for a limited time so of course they would like to show it off as much as they could. Flyers have been sent out around the city, stating that admission price was cut in half and that free finger foods and refreshments would be served.
Little did the gallery know, a small group had set their eyes on the priceless painting as well. This group does not seem to have shown up just yet. Some other people have also came to visit the gallery, those people include a man and his son, three men dressed as repair men, with large duffel bags. They were checked out by security staff of course, like everyone else. These men headed to the men's bathroom and placed a 'out of order' sign outside the door as they worked.
The art being shown today was done by some unknown artist back around the Renaissance time period. The galley is only one floor, but very large with many rooms of different art pieces. The room of focus today is a very large ball room like area, with the painting being shown off right in the middle, inside a strong glass case. The ceiling was a piece if art itself, in the center was a dome painted glass, very pleasing to the eye. | [cs=3][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width: 500px; height: 35px;] |
[newclass=boorder img]-webkit-border-radius: 100px;-moz-border-radius: 100x;border-radius: 100px; float: left; height: 100px; width: 100px;[/newclass][newclass=boorder2 img]-webkit-border-radius: 100px;-moz-border-radius: 100x;border-radius: 100px; float: left; height: 70px; width: 70px;[/newclass][newclass=boorder]-webkit-border-radius: 100px;-moz-border-radius: 100px;border-radius: 100px; border: 4ps solid #ffffff; height: 100px; width: 100px;[/newclass][newclass=boorder2]-webkit-border-radius: 100px;-moz-border-radius: 100px;border-radius: 100px; border: 4ps solid #ffffff; height: 100px; width: 100px;[/newclass] |
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Post by sheryl on Dec 19, 2012 19:44:37 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][atrb=style, background: url(http://i.imgur.com/5STKF.png), bTable][style=float: left; border: 5px solid #e2e2e2;]
[/style]
[style=font: 12px mistral; color: #e2e2e2; letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: center; margin-top: 30px;]it could be wrong, could be wrong,[/style][style=padding: 10px, 3px, 10px, 10px; spacing: 5px; font: 18px bradley hand itc tt; color: #1c191a; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -1px; background: url(http://i56.tinypic.com/jqjdld.jpg); text-transform: uppercase;]THIS IS OUT OF CONTROL[/style]
[style=float: left; background: url(http://i56.tinypic.com/jqjdld.jpg); height: 300px; width: 320px; overflow: auto; font: 10px Georgia; color: #1c191a; text-align: justify; padding: 10px;]Words: 375
Notes: Event debuuuut. Aaand picking number 1!
Sherry really couldn't say she was an art person. Her best works were (neatly done, mind you) stick figures with often pastel colored hair, and while drawing was obviously not her forte, neither was art history or art styles or art research. Honestly she'd probably failed art class more than a few times in her school years, but...you know that wasn't too relevant. Something relevant would be that despite the fourteen year old's less than average interest in the fine arts, the flyers that had been circulating around the city had caught her eye.
"A priceless work of art being shown for a limited amount of time, huh? Anything like that has to be worth seeing. Plus prices chopped in half and free food, finger or not, can't sound anything less than tempting either..." Besides, this was some kind of fancy picture showing, so food had to be super fancy too, and Sherry was all for fanciness in food form. Thus with those simple motives and reasoning, the white haired girl had proposed the idea of going with her parents.
They were unfortunately against it at first, but while maybe the eight grader wasn't an art aficionado of any sort, the urge to go increased the more her parents denied, like a typical teenager. From then it didn't take much longer for them to give their consent, so now here she was, on a Saturday afternoon, glancing from her flyer to the bold letters spelling out the gallery's name.
"WAYWARD ART GALLERY"
With a few more glances, the girl could confidently say she was at the right place. Smiling in satisfaction, Sherry made her way to the entrance, though of course she was stopped and checked like anyone else. Luckily, though, her check didn't last long. Donning only a simple, yellow sundress and sun hat, along with a small handbag that only contained her cell phone and wallet, she was through in no time at all.
Instead of the art catching her attention, however, it was the people that grabbed her first.
"I never knew so many people liked art this much..." The food was what appealed to her the most after all.
[/style] |
[style=font: 9px courier new; text-align: center; margin-top: -10px;] ♥ lucie from btn[/style] |
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Post by genevieve on Dec 23, 2012 16:59:26 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true] defeated by a hero
the defeated soldiers will feel comforted by the fact that they were defeated by a hero, and deceived by an evil king… | [atrb=vAlign,top][atrb=style,border-left: 1.5px solid;] It was Saturday, and not just any Saturday, either. This was Genevieve's first Saturday in Los Angeles. Having arrived in the city on Monday, the young woman hadn't even been in the city a week. Having spent Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday unpacking and trying to familiarize herself with her neighbourhood, Genevieve had made it her mission to enjoy the weekend and do some sight seeing; so when Genevieve heard about the art gallery viewing, she was eager to attend. Her younger brother, Sebastien, was a rather talented artist and photographer, so Genevieve was fairly used to attending such events. That was part of the appeal of visiting the gallery - it was like having a small piece of home in this alien metropolis.
Wearing navy dress pants and an ivory blouse, Genevieve tucked a stray strand of her long hair behind her ear as she entered the Wayward Art Gallery, her black high heels clicking against the floor with each step she took. Like many other galleries, the Wayward Art Gallery was open and airy, with high, neutral walls that drew the attention to the pieces that were displayed. A small smile tugged at the corners of Genevieve's thin, pale lips as she looked around the room. It was fairly busy with men and women of all ages mingling and enjoying the refreshments that the gallery staff were offering the crowd. Laughter and happy chatter could be heard throughout the building as Genevieve began to make her way to the heart of the gallery, where the advertised piece was being shown.
+ Notes,
short & shitty... woo! And I pick number 3! | | |
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Post by soar2 on Dec 30, 2012 13:15:17 GMT -8
| [atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/0B7Rh.png); padding:10px; border-radius:20px; moz-border-radius:20px; border:3px #282828 solid ,BTable] 사랑은 알수록 나빠질 수밖에 없나봐 Love is so bad, bad, bad, bad, bad five The restaurant that Jack worked at had been chosen to cater for the gallery's art show. In all honesty, it was an extremely dull job, though he couldn't complain; Jack was being paid extra for this. However, he was a bit curious about the supposedly priceless work of art on display. A coworker had told him that it was thought to be ancient, and history had always fascinated Jack. "Cheese, madam?" he asked a young, light-haired girl. After she made her choice, he continued on, taking easy, elegant strides as he made his way around the room, platter in hand. His uniform was typical of a waiter belonging to a classy restaurant-- a white, form-fitting dress shirt with black dress pants and shoes, a black vest, and a wine-red tie. The symbol of the restaurant was embroidered in a splendid gold on the back of the vest. It still, however, allowed him ease of movement. He ran a hand through his neatly slicked back hair, his blue eyes scanning the room with little interest. Jack noticed the men go into the bathroom, but paid them little attention, instead ogling a handsome man who was idly observing a nearby painting. "Jack!" a voice called, and tearing his eyes away, Jack identified the voice as belonging to Tory, his manager. "Take some of these to those guys in there," she gestured towards the bathroom, and sighing, Jack handed his tray to her, and picked up te tray of sandwiches, heading towards the bathroom. He found it a bit odd that they were catering to the handymen too, but Jack knew better than to question her. |
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Post by alphardcor on Jan 3, 2013 9:17:51 GMT -8
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turn your kindness into strength | | [cs=2] (OOC: 2)
With nothing to do, Alphard found himself casually navigating the area that was known as Wayward Art Gallery, gingerly observing the gallant pictures that stationed themselves on the walls. A tuft of white hair made itself apparent, sticking out unnoticeably at the back of his head. A yawn escaped parted lips, implying the fact that he may or may not have just gotten out of bed. This seemed to be the case, seeing as his messily (yet still somewhat fashionable) whipped on clothes were more than obviously apparent, and his general frame was slouched.
The young man had found himself sitting upright in bed, protecting his eyes from the glare of the sun that peered through the blinds of his window, at exactly 12:04 PM. A flyer was taped to the wall beside his bed, and by the time he’d gotten out, brushed his teeth and got some clothes on, it was already about 12:45, and he found himself walking speedily in the direction of Wayward Art Gallery. Now, art wasn’t necessarily his strongest suit, or even much of an interest, but it was an event that he was able to attend, and he really had nothing to do on that particular Saturday. It was an opportunity that wouldn’t appear again, so he found himself thinking: Hey, why not?
Alphard donned a white sweater, and faded blue jeans, along with black leather boots and a rather large belt that stuck out from under his sweater. He folded his arms across his chest, and mildly wondered what in the world it was that he was actually doing. He began to walk around in circles, glancing at the paintings that were hung about the walls, not really knowing what it was that he was supposed to be doing. Perhaps he’d go dine in the finger foods that the flyer had said would be available. Or perhaps he’d go about and dabble in some paintings Renaissance time period – which reminded him… he hadn’t even gotten the chance to even check out the priceless works of art that were supposed to be the reason he visited! Cursing his lack of foresight, he attempted to navigate the gallery once more, though it was more likely that he’d just end up lost.
Actually, it was almost certain. | |
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Post by jka2 on Jan 4, 2013 14:02:53 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, padding: 15px; background: #e8e7e6; border-top: #F1F1F0 solid 10px; border-bottom: #F1F1F0 solid 10px; width: 200px] [/style][style= float: left; margin-left: 05px; font-size: 35px; font-family: arial; margin-top: 7px; letter-spacing: -3px; color: #a0c276;]❝ I COME UNDONE
OH YES I DO. JUST THINK OF ALL THE THOUGHTS WASTED ON YOU. AND WOULD EVERY WORD YOU SAY SAY SOMETHING SWEET CAUSE ALL I TASTE IS BLOOD BETWEEN MY TEETH. AS I'M FINDING THE WORDS YOU'RE GETTING AWAY — ! ❞
Niall took a thoughtful sip of wine, fingers firmly curled around the slim neck of the glass as his dress shoes came to a stop in front of one of the numerous paintings littering the gallery. He’d attended far too many of these events to count, being one of the Wayward Art Gallery’s most active patrons when it came to art restoration ever since he’d taken an enlightening art history course during his undergrad, but he still found it quite flattering whenever he received a gilded invitation in the mail thanking him for his contributions and ushering him in to view the results. And upon arrival, he was pleasantly surprised that the day’s crowd wasn’t the usual band of men in league with his father accompanied by their overly embellished wives who couldn’t tell Rococo from Baroque. Though he supposed the means of publicity the gallery had used (various flyers around town and a rather large billboard he could spot from his rooftop) had meant to draw a crowd – and for good reason. It was the gallery’s turn in rotation to display a rather valuable painting dated from the Renaissance, one of his favorite periods of study when he was a student.
Not that he’d had the privilege of viewing the painting yet. The brunette glanced at his watch peeking behind the sleeve of his suit, the thin hands just past one o’clock. Judging by the lack of company in the particular wing he’d been perusing, most of the guests had headed straight to the main event. I suppose I should go and join the festivities, he mused, turning on his heels and making his way down the practically deserted hall of the wing, glass of wine still half full. His steps were far from deliberate, but the sound still echoed off the marble until the buzz of voices from the crowd washed them out. As expected, the area of showcase was packed with individuals of all ages engaging in conversation. He cracked a small smile, making a mental note to write the gallery another check by the end of the week before beginning to weave through the crowd in hopes of catching a glimpse of the star of the show.
OOC: I suppose that leaves me with number 4, then!
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[STYLE= font-family: arial; font-size: 10px;]MADE BY CYANIDE CANDY ✖[/style] |
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F A T E
UNKNOWN ENTITY
ADMIN ACCOUNT
ANCIENT POWERS
Posts: 295 
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Post by F A T E on Jan 10, 2013 3:56:10 GMT -8
| [cs=3][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding: 0px; width: 500px; background: transparent url('http://i.imgur.com/JUKLO.png') no-repeat;,true] | | [atrb=width,111][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,padding-left: 8px; padding-top:3px;][classy=boorder][/classy] | [atrb=width,76][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,padding-left: 0px; padding-top:3px;][classy=boorder2][/classy] | [atrb=width,313][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,padding-left: 0px; padding-top:3px;] | | [cs=3][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width: 460px; text-align: center; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px;] Event 101 - Imagine | [cs=3][atrb=style,width: 460px; text-align: center; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px;]
Repair Men | [cs=3][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width: 450px; text-align: center; padding-left: 25px; padding-right: 25px;]
The repair men emerged from the bathroom, their preparations ready for what was to come. The duffel bag was close to empty - the missing contents of what had been contained in them now in the hands of those men. Guns. Handguns to be more specific. One of them swore as they saw the approaching waiter - he wasn't part of the plan. Of course, not much he could do now that he was in their line of fire. Another of the men pointed his gun at the waiter, grabbing him and handing the food towards the other. After all, why waste good food, anyways?
This had turned into a hostage situation. Of course, it was going to be one way or the other, and this couldn't have been a more perfect time to take a hostage. The blue-haired man had really been a stroke of luck. He was tied in the rope that came from one of the bags while the same gun was still aimed at his head.
But for the real reason they came, anyways. The priceless painting. Guns in hand, not unlike a bank robbery, they went to the room of the gallery. It caused quite a stir - there had been two guards standing to check, although it seemed like one had overcome the other. Conspiracy perhaps. | [cs=3][atrb=style,width: 460px; text-align: center; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px;]
Liam | [cs=3][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width: 450px; text-align: center; padding-left: 25px; padding-right: 25px;]
The boy, not more than ten, was scared. He had been under strict orders not to say anything - but even then he was shaking with fear. Enough for the man who was accompanying him to keep him out of sight. He liked art. He liked Wayward quite a lot. He didn't know the names of the paintings and the artists, but he knew they were beautiful. And he often visited the place too, although the money to get in was not exactly the cheapest thing on earth.
So when he said he was scared in such a comforting atmosphere, he was absolutely terrified. What did these men want with him? He didn't know. He didn't want to do anything for these men but, if he didn't obey then what would they do then? Liam didn't want to die - not at all.
The man escorted him into the bathroom and told him to stay there. Liam nodded, although he was unhappy about it. Someone was standing out to guard them, anyways, since there would be no escaping. He noticed the blue-haired person in the bathroom too - probably someone they had taken. Though, he thought. What exactly did they want, again? | | [cs=3][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width: 500px; height: 35px;] |
[newclass=boorder img]-webkit-border-radius: 100px;-moz-border-radius: 100x;border-radius: 100px; float: left; height: 100px; width: 100px;[/newclass][newclass=boorder2 img]-webkit-border-radius: 100px;-moz-border-radius: 100x;border-radius: 100px; float: left; height: 70px; width: 70px;[/newclass][newclass=boorder]-webkit-border-radius: 100px;-moz-border-radius: 100px;border-radius: 100px; border: 4ps solid #ffffff; height: 100px; width: 100px;[/newclass][newclass=boorder2]-webkit-border-radius: 100px;-moz-border-radius: 100px;border-radius: 100px; border: 4ps solid #ffffff; height: 100px; width: 100px;[/newclass] |
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Post by sheryl on Jan 12, 2013 21:58:26 GMT -8
| [atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding: 0px; width: 550px; background: transparent url('http://i.imgur.com/hVNG8.png') no-repeat;,true] | | [atrb=width,437][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width: 420; padding-top: 23px; padding-left: 17px;] WORDS: 823 TAG: Event people DATED: April 28, 2012.
Once she'd gotten over the crowd she hadn't bee expecting, the next thing on the fourteen year old's agenda was food. Sherry had honestly expected some kind of table to have all the snacks lined up to be taken, and had begun to formulate a route alternating between browsing artworks and food. Now such an object with edible cuisine on it had to be flocked with people, so it wasn't supposed to be hard to find. Yet... all the young girl could find was people and art. That's it. Where was her promised foods? That was supposed to be the highlight of-
"Cheese, Madam?" Whirling around to come face to face with a blue haired water-looking guy, Sherry blinked. Oh. The food was served to you by people walking around with it. That tweaked her plans just a bit. But... but there was nothing to worry about! She could work with this for sure. Brightening right up and smiling pleasantly at the man- in a way, telling herself this was not a detriment of any sort - she reached out and picked the cheese she thought looked the best. "Yes please, I'll have this one." The thought of grabbing another one came to mind, but the manners that had been drilled into her protested too much for her to actually go through with it. "Thank you very much!"
Popping the food in her mouth as the waiter began walking away, Sherry's eyes widened. This had to be the most delicious cheese she'd ever eaten! Fancy food really was all it was cracked up to be! Quickly surveying the moving crowd around her, the white haired girl tried to catch a glimpse of cheese-man to ask for more. Though just looking, he was no where in sight. "Jeez waiters move fast..." She'd only just seen him, what? Four or five seconds ago? Squinting her eyes to try harder to spot the head of blue hair, it seemed easy. Blue against all these other heads shouldn't be hard to see.
Unless... "all these other heads" happened to tower above yours, that is.
Pouting, the only thing left for her to do was choose a random direction, but there were obviously several flaws with that choice of action. "I can't even make any guesses for what direction we went in." The fancy waiter getup might be a clue though. Fortunately, it seemed that just as Sherry was at loss, another waiter entered her sights. He wasn't cheese man, but he could tell her wear cheese man was, maybe! "He's getting away though!" Dashing after the disappearing server, or dashing as much as one could in an establishment filled with people, the crowd almost seemed to get denser as she continued. This must be what it felt like in the movies when a real life chase was going on. Getting harder and harder to move-
Startled cries and sudden panic from several of the other guests cut into the eighth grader's thoughts. Searching frantically for the cause, the rising anxiety of those around her seemed to slowly seep into the girl herself. "What's wrong, what's wrong, what's wrong?!" She didn't spot them herself, but soon shouts about guns rang through the air and it was the same as if she had. Guns. Weapons that could kill people. They were here?! At an art gallery?! Sherry had just come here for the food-
"I have to get away." That was the only thought that rang through her head immediately. Haphazardly scrambling to remember what direction was away, the girl did her best to run. Except... a horrible realization hit her the moment she tried. It wasn't just the feeling of the chase getting to her that made pursuing that waiter so hard. It was that the crowd really was more crowded. The most populated part of this gallery had to be where the priceless painting, the star of this featuring, hung. She had to be here. She had to be in the worst possible place to be in entire gallery.
Instead of shoving people out of her way in her growing panic, Sherry couldn't even move the people around her. All adults, people much much larger than her, were like tree trunks that weren't budging unless they were also running away. Accidentally jabbed by one person, bumped by another, this coupled with the overwhelming emotions that came with the registered thoughts of "there's guns in the same room as me" rendered her want to escape essentially useless. She couldn't travel anywhere at all.
"Someone help me!" she shouted, even though it might as well have been futile over the noise of everyone else.
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Post by genevieve on Jan 13, 2013 15:33:46 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true] defeated by a hero
the defeated soldiers will feel comforted by the fact that they were defeated by a hero, and deceived by an evil king… | [atrb=vAlign,top][atrb=style,border-left: 1.5px solid;] It all happened so fast, Genevieve was left standing in shock for several seconds. One moment, the white-haired femme is admiring the priceless and breathtaking piece of art, and the next she is left staring at several grown men carrying handguns. Chaos broke out almost immediately: people ran in every direction trying to find an exit, and deafening screams echoed throughout the gallery. As if immune to the disorder, Genevieve was rooted in place, trying to understand what exactly happened. This was too surreal... too frightening. Surely, she was not in the same room as potentially brutal killers. She hadn't seen the men emerge, so where could they have come from? Regardless, this could not be happening.
The second a gunshot was fried, more screams followed and Genevieve snapped back to reality. Instead of her heart racing and hammering furiously within her thoracic cavity, it practically stopped. Her blood ran cold and breathes became shaking and shallow. Fear like Genevieve had never known quickly overcame her body as her mind became hazy.
This isn't happening. This isn't happening. Genevieve repeated to herself as if her mantra would protect her from the undeniable truth. She closed her eyes for less than a heartbeat, and when she opened them, terror still surrounded the woman.
Trying to get a grip, Genevieve took in a deep breath and pinched her arm. Hard. The skin on her left forearm grew red in the area that she clasped, but that was the very least of her worries right now. Her bright blue eyes scanned the room, examining and scrutinizing every person under her gaze. If she wanted to get out of here alive she's have to try and remain calm. Walking briskly toward the closest wall, Genevieve didn't dare take her eyes away from the armed men or the general area they occupied. She could hear the blood pounding in her head as she walked, and Genevieve struggled to remain conscious. But she could not give up. She would not give up. She valued her life too much to succumb to the darkness.
Genevieve had two primary goals at the moment: find cover and a long, pointy object. Part of her mind tried to devise some sort of escape route while the remaining prayed to a God that she still believed in, "I promise I'l go to Church more often if I make it out of here alive." She said under her breath as she crossed the room.
Amidst the shrieks and sobbing, Genevieve heard the faintest and smallest of voiced, muffled by the sounds of terror. As if this voice would be an answer to her prayers, Genevieve pushed her way toward the voice, literally shoving people out of her way with as much force as her biceps could muster. Now was not a time for pleasantries. Not breaking her stride, Genevieve found a small body that the voice likely belonged to. A girl wearing a yellow sundress and the most unbecoming look of fear was practically trembling in place, unable to push past the adults around her. No one seemed to pay any notice to the girl and Genevieve was able to shake her head in disgust as she reached her hand out toward the young stranger.
"Come with me." Genevieve commanded, her blues eyes trying to be reassuring, though there was a harshness about the medical student that was not often seen by the outside world, "You need to trust me." She added, more softly this time as she looked down into a pair of big, blue eyes before shooting her head back up to keep tabs on the predators. Though in no way connected to the little lady and sharing nothing more than an uncommon hair colour and a traumatizing experience, Genevieve felt strangely protective of the creature as her maternal nature slowly rose to the surface. | | |
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Post by soar2 on Jan 14, 2013 18:15:44 GMT -8
| [atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/0B7Rh.png); padding:10px; border-radius:20px; moz-border-radius:20px; border:3px #282828 solid ,BTable] 사랑은 알수록 나빠질 수밖에 없나봐 Love is so bad, bad, bad, bad, bad "What the--" he was grabbed by the repairmen and trussed up, the food he had brought taken away. He quieted for a moment as one of the men trained a pistol on his temple. Oh my god. Oh my god."What the fuck! What do you think--" Jack snarled as they tossed him to the floor, a grunt of pain escaping him as his shoulder hit the cold tile.
Slowly rolling onto his back, and from there, to a sitting position (it was rather difficult, considering his hands were tied behind his back), Jack tried to process what had just happened. Heart pounding, he chanced a look up at his captors as they exited the bathroom, guns in hand. Holy-- were they really?
This was something out of a movie. These sorts of things didn't happen in real life. Surely he was just dreaming. Jack concentrated very hard. Maybe he'd wake up if he tried very hard. But he did not.
The scattered pops of gunfire answered his question. Blue eyes widening, then shutting tight, Jack tried to quell the overwhelming fear that was beginning to have a stranglehold on his heart. This was not a movie. He was not dreaming. "Deep breaths, Jack, deep breaths," he muttered.
Suddenly noticing the presence of someone else in the room, Jack
wiggled around as best he could, craning his neck to look behind him. "Oh hell," he muttered. It was kid, not older than ten, at the most. They took a kid as a hostage.
Feeling a bit awkward (Jack had never been a master of the social scene), he ventured a "Hey, kid..?"
His eyes strained at the corner, trying to see if the man near the front of the bathroom had heard. He had his back turned to them, likely to keep an eye on the situation outside. Besides, it was loud-- the screaming and the gunfire would probably hide his attempts at conversation.
"Look, kid," he began, intense blue eyes refocusing on the child. "Do you know these guys?" |
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Post by alphardcor on Jan 16, 2013 13:17:16 GMT -8
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turn your kindness into strength | | [cs=2] The large ballroom was a piece of architectural perfection in itself, and Alphard felt himself gravitating towards the middle of the room. The art piece was in the middle of the room, and he felt the need to weave through the crowds to get a closer look, despite how it may have been extremely rude to just push his way into the crowd for his own gain. Though the admiration of a work of art wasn’t to be considered greedy – Alphard was just warped in a sort of positive way, though he was by no means a saint.
It was like the calm before a storm.
The chatter of rooms slowly quieted, though Alphard was particularly oblivious until the atmosphere suffused with an air of chaos and discord.
Then there was a gunshot.
Alphard visibly flinched, his shoulders jerking forward and his hands shooting towards his ears in a late attempt to shield them from the sound waves that made themselves harmfully apparent. He’d never actually heard a gunshot before. He didn’t think it was so bad, but in the environment he was in, it was every kind of bad. Hair was flying, arms flailing, and mouths open wide as people scrambled for the exits, shrieking in fear until it practically numbed Alphard’s senses. Alphard stood there, not able to fully wrap his head around the situation – his eyes were narrowed and his lips were slightly parted. He let his arms hang by his sides, and a bead of sweat ran down the side of his cheek as he tried to comprehend.
His thoughts weren’t even concentrated on the exit. The gears in his mind turned slowly, but accelerated, until they gained speed and Alphard was truly able to see what the heck was going on. However, he wasn’t yet overwhelmed by fear – it was only anxiety. It was a question. When am I going to get myself out of this mess? It would have never occurred to the man that he may die in the attempt. For now, his ignorance meant… something not very close to bliss, and something that could very well get him killed if he didn’t man up and act.
So he decided to.
He craned his head so that he was looking all the way to his right, and then all the way to his left. His body was stiff, rigid; his feet were wide apart in some imitation of a pseudo-fighting stance. His hands balled up into fists, the tips of his knuckles going white, as he hatched a plan – or at least, attempted to.
The cry of a small girl caught his attention. So far, he’d only seen adults scrambling about, trying to get as far away from the action as possible. The thought that a child could be near was unacceptable, and he soon found himself moving against the crowd, his posture tilted so that he could walk sideways in the direction of the girl. He spotted one not too soon after, though she was being cared to by another woman. That was good. However, as a “gentleman”, he thought that it was appropriate for him to keep an eye on her and the woman while he tried to think of a way for them to get to safety.
For now, he stuck to the wall, his eyes wide. | |
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Post by F A T E on Jan 27, 2013 18:00:55 GMT -8
| [cs=3][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding: 0px; width: 500px; background: transparent url('http://i.imgur.com/JUKLO.png') no-repeat;,true] | | [atrb=width,111][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,padding-left: 8px; padding-top:3px;][classy=boorder][/classy] | [atrb=width,76][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,padding-left: 0px; padding-top:3px;][classy=boorder2][/classy] | [atrb=width,313][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,padding-left: 0px; padding-top:3px;] | | [cs=3][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width: 460px; text-align: center; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px;] Event 101 - Imagine | [cs=3][atrb=style,width: 460px; text-align: center; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px;]
Repair Men | [cs=3][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width: 450px; text-align: center; padding-left: 25px; padding-right: 25px;]
Although their main objective was obtaining the painting, the men weren't so high as to not get a little extra spending money in the process. Funny really, how in control the men felt as the chaos slowed. "Sit down, stop moving." Even more control, as they followed their orders. The police would, no doubt, be here soon, but to be honest these men were in anything but a debating mood. And the real goal needed to be done soon. But not quite - the timing was not yet right.
"Get out your wallets!" Guns were quite powerful things, able to make humans kneel to people who were, essentially, equal in power to them. One of the men smirked as they scrambled for their wallets. So predictable. Such easy pickings, it was almost too easy. Maybe it was in their nature to do such things as obey. Such stupid, stupid creatures, although the men themselves were the same. This euphoria of power - they would enjoy it while they could.
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Liam | [cs=3][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width: 450px; text-align: center; padding-left: 25px; padding-right: 25px;]
Why did this man have blue hair? It was really... eye catching, to say the least. Liam wanted to ask the man about it - why did he like it to be blue? Was that his real hair color? All these questions were silenced in his throat as the boy thought about what consequences would be had if he did speak. So he contented himself with staring and distracting himself with that would soon happen in no time. There had to be a reason these men dragged him with them - some reason. He couldn't fathom why, but surely he would find out soon.
And he was terrified with what would befall him when he did find out. If Liam carried out all the orders perfectly, what would they do to him when he was no longer useful? If he messed them up, what would they do to him then? If he refused to comply, what then? He missed his mom, he wanted his mom... Only she wasn't there when he wanted her. He just wanted to cry. But if he drew attention to himself, what would they do? He held them in the best he could.
He didn't want to be in this situation. What warranted him to be in it? The blue man beside him spoke. When Liam turned to look at him, he was getting blurry in his vision. He tentatively shook his head when he asked if he knew these men. Not really, he didn't. They just took him, in a sense. They didn't hurt him, or anything. And they did take him here, where he liked to be. But he didn't know them. | | [cs=3][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width: 500px; height: 35px;] |
[newclass=boorder img]-webkit-border-radius: 100px;-moz-border-radius: 100x;border-radius: 100px; float: left; height: 100px; width: 100px;[/newclass][newclass=boorder2 img]-webkit-border-radius: 100px;-moz-border-radius: 100x;border-radius: 100px; float: left; height: 70px; width: 70px;[/newclass][newclass=boorder]-webkit-border-radius: 100px;-moz-border-radius: 100px;border-radius: 100px; border: 4ps solid #ffffff; height: 100px; width: 100px;[/newclass][newclass=boorder2]-webkit-border-radius: 100px;-moz-border-radius: 100px;border-radius: 100px; border: 4ps solid #ffffff; height: 100px; width: 100px;[/newclass] |
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Post by sheryl on Feb 4, 2013 12:19:11 GMT -8
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A comforting voice was more than a relief to hear. In fact, any and all cautions and "stranger danger" lessons promptly fled Sherry's mind and were replaced with undoubting trust in the woman offering her help. The fourteen year old had no problems doing what was asked, and stuck by her side as the rom continued in a panic. With at least someone else there with her, the fear and nerves all building up inside her were slowly and thankfully easing up. But only by a bit.
The ones controlling the room were still the men with guns. The brief moment of respite caused by the kind woman's presence instantly shattered the instant their commands rang throughout the gallery, and for the first time Sherry realized what was worse. The chaos and continuous shifting of the crowd had been scary, but it muffled the reality of the threat if she allowed her attention to get swept away by it. As everyone grew still and moved only to carry out the thieves' demands, the girl found herself forced to focus on them and only them. The growing silence was making the fourteen year old feel more and more bare and exposed, a child among adults, even if the criminals were paying her no extra mind. She couldn't help shifting behind the silver haired woman.
"A-are you going to listen to them...?" she whispered, trying to make her voice stop shaking like a leaf. To be honest the white haired girl didn't really care if the woman handed over the money as asked (she was already sitting and figured the woman would comply to a simple task like that), but the hushed tone of the room was becoming too much to bear. She had to say something, and at least try to relieve herself of the cold fear that held fast to her heart.
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Post by F A T E on Feb 9, 2013 22:47:29 GMT -8
| [cs=3][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding: 0px; width: 500px; background: transparent url('http://i.imgur.com/JUKLO.png') no-repeat;,true] | | [atrb=width,111][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,padding-left: 8px; padding-top:3px;][classy=boorder][/classy] | [atrb=width,76][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,padding-left: 0px; padding-top:3px;][classy=boorder2][/classy] | [atrb=width,313][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,padding-left: 0px; padding-top:3px;] | | [cs=3][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width: 460px; text-align: center; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px;] Event 101 - Imagine | [cs=3][atrb=style,width: 460px; text-align: center; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px;]
Scenario | [cs=3][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width: 450px; text-align: center; padding-left: 25px; padding-right: 25px;]
The alarm was able to alert the police and they arrived in a timely manner. Somehow everyone was put into safety, although not the same could be said towards the culprits of the crime. Due to them not cooperating, they were shot and were not able to be saved even with hospital efforts. The painting was untouched and stuff. The kid was somehow saved and the hostage situation wasn't as bad as it could have been. Everyone was saved. Happy ending. Go on with your normal lives, civilians.
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Note | [cs=3][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width: 450px; text-align: center; padding-left: 25px; padding-right: 25px;]
Due to the inactivity of this thread, we will be closing this event as we are being ready to move months on the site. For all of your participation and dealing with the overall lag and slowness and putting up with the inactivity of a member in this event. For that we will be giving every member who participated 1 residue. | | [cs=3][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width: 500px; height: 35px;] |
[newclass=boorder img]-webkit-border-radius: 100px;-moz-border-radius: 100x;border-radius: 100px; float: left; height: 100px; width: 100px;[/newclass][newclass=boorder2 img]-webkit-border-radius: 100px;-moz-border-radius: 100x;border-radius: 100px; float: left; height: 70px; width: 70px;[/newclass][newclass=boorder]-webkit-border-radius: 100px;-moz-border-radius: 100px;border-radius: 100px; border: 4ps solid #ffffff; height: 100px; width: 100px;[/newclass][newclass=boorder2]-webkit-border-radius: 100px;-moz-border-radius: 100px;border-radius: 100px; border: 4ps solid #ffffff; height: 100px; width: 100px;[/newclass] |
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