Post by zombiekurage on May 10, 2009 3:07:20 GMT -5
U S E R I N F O
Name: Kurage... or Little Kurage if you prefer. Also known as The Shortest Godot, that one chick with the blue hair, and you with the face. Lady is another name too.
Age: 17 but so close 18 I should be.
Role Playing Experience: Been RPing for about seven years. On paper, on three different sites, and in the World of Warcraft (yea.. I am a n3rd and proud of it)
C H A R C T E R I N F O
Name: Known by Flint, Master of knifes! but his real name in Alexander
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Bio: Flint is a master knife thrower of a traveling circus ((I'm not good and naming places or things. please excuse me. If you really want a name... I will really think of one for you!^^)) He did run away to join it, fed up with his parents. As for throwing knives, he thought it would be fun... and knifes are shiny. He's a bit silly for the people he has spent eight years of his life with, but normally keeps his cool until you piss him off. As for dealing with zombies, Flint just hopes his hit them with a knife, instead doing what his is used to and missing his target.
Role Play Post Example: Flint ran as fast as he could once he heard that zombie thought they would pay the circus a visit. They were undead, gross, and falling apart. The last thing he wanted was one's jaw to fall on his white, pointed, leather boots; or any part of his costume for that matter.
Thoughts ran through his head of the people he had left behind and he had just hoped they had followed his example. Running was better than fighting right now, he thought. I don't know how the hell I would kill these things.
"Wait..." He stopped quickly, spending the time to catch his breath and looked down at what his left, white gloved hand was holding. Throwing knifes: shiny, beautiful, sliver, throwing knifes. A crooked smile formed under his blue and red half-mask that made him look like he was constantly winking at you. "These will do."
Holding the knifes tight over a crossed-out heart stitched into the blue, red, and purple harlequin diamonds on his sleeveless-shirt, he slid on his heels in a 180 spin before running back to save the day.
Name: Kurage... or Little Kurage if you prefer. Also known as The Shortest Godot, that one chick with the blue hair, and you with the face. Lady is another name too.
Age: 17 but so close 18 I should be.
Role Playing Experience: Been RPing for about seven years. On paper, on three different sites, and in the World of Warcraft (yea.. I am a n3rd and proud of it)
C H A R C T E R I N F O
Name: Known by Flint, Master of knifes! but his real name in Alexander
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Bio: Flint is a master knife thrower of a traveling circus ((I'm not good and naming places or things. please excuse me. If you really want a name... I will really think of one for you!^^)) He did run away to join it, fed up with his parents. As for throwing knives, he thought it would be fun... and knifes are shiny. He's a bit silly for the people he has spent eight years of his life with, but normally keeps his cool until you piss him off. As for dealing with zombies, Flint just hopes his hit them with a knife, instead doing what his is used to and missing his target.
Role Play Post Example: Flint ran as fast as he could once he heard that zombie thought they would pay the circus a visit. They were undead, gross, and falling apart. The last thing he wanted was one's jaw to fall on his white, pointed, leather boots; or any part of his costume for that matter.
Thoughts ran through his head of the people he had left behind and he had just hoped they had followed his example. Running was better than fighting right now, he thought. I don't know how the hell I would kill these things.
"Wait..." He stopped quickly, spending the time to catch his breath and looked down at what his left, white gloved hand was holding. Throwing knifes: shiny, beautiful, sliver, throwing knifes. A crooked smile formed under his blue and red half-mask that made him look like he was constantly winking at you. "These will do."
Holding the knifes tight over a crossed-out heart stitched into the blue, red, and purple harlequin diamonds on his sleeveless-shirt, he slid on his heels in a 180 spin before running back to save the day.