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[COLOR=SlateGray][SIZE=1]Emotions are a strange thing - they are ephemeral and intanglible, yet powerful and possibly life-changing. They cloud the mind and take control of the body with their subtle whispers. The blood is flooded with heat and adrenaline, nerves charged with electric fire. Love and hate. Fear and courage. Rage, sorrow, and joy. The polaric differences tug at every human heart, and our fierce natures of duality lead to conflict and strife.

Emotions are such powerful things despite their lack of form, so it begs the question: what could emotions do with a body? What if your emotions could talk to you, touch you, and [I]hurt[/I] you if you didn't agree?

For one unfortunate soul, his tormented mind has made this a reality.

Calon Dryga has spent most of his adult life in and out of mental institutions, hospitals, and shelters. He suffers from a unique brand of paranoid schizophrenia, leading him to have often-times violent hallucinations featuring beings he regards as his emotions. He has spent years being visited by these spectres who usually coerce him into doing their bidding.

Over the years, Calon's hospital visits have become less and less frequent, and less and less voluntary. The reason? Calon fears his emotions will harm him if he does, and if he doesn't do what they ask. From the advent of his schizophrenia to this day, he often engages in what appear to be self-mutilatory practices, and states that they were the spectres punishing him. His hallucinations have been growing steadily more violent, as have his actions.

Recently, he left an institution after several months of medical treatment. He know spends his days in a miserable, run-down apartment in the seedy parts of town, managing to scrape up funds whenever he can. He never speaks to anyone, and has no friends or ties of any kind. His fear of retribution from his emotions is only part of it. The other side, is far more horrible.

He has become a murderer.

Under the fierce demands of the spectres, Calon has been forced into commiting horrible acts. His secrecy and solitude have let him keep from being noticed, and his surprisingly sound mental faculties have helped him get away with it. He would give anything to turn himself in and end the slaughter, but cannot. He knows that if he does, he will die at the hands of his own mind.[/SIZE][/COLOR]

[CENTER]*****[/CENTER]

[quote name='The Journal of Calon Dryga, December 11th, 1989']fears out. says i need to stop being an idiot an lissin to anger. says that if i dont, hell hurt me again. i dont want him to hurt me, but i dont wanna do what he says. he wants me to throw rocks at the old ladys house down the street, an i know its bad, but he says to. an fears right, he will hurt me. hurt me bad, like last time. still got marks from last time. maybe i should just do what he says. he wont hurt me, that way. yeah. better just do as he says.[/quote]

[quote name='The Journal of Calon Dryga, March 26th, 1991']its desire this time. shes saying...bad things. real bad things. words mum says i should never, ever say, and talkin about things i read about in that dirty mag i found. shes talking about jenny, sayin i should do those things to her, and say stuff. but i know i shouldnt. shed just yell an call mr. marcus out and hed have "a talk" with me again. but desire...shes real pretty, an maybe shes right. maybe jenny would like to do those things. i dunno...[/quote]

[quote name='The Journal of Calon Dryga, October 4th, 1994']i swear i didnt want to do it, but hate made me. the bad man said i was a crazy little ****, and so i hit him. hate said it was good that i done that. but the policeman said it was bad. i dont want to be bad. im not like the bad people. they say bad things and do bad things, and i just wanna make them stop. why do i do bad when i just wanna do good?[/quote]

[QUOTE=The Notes of Dr. Eugene Beuler on Calon, January 18th, 1999]Patient Name: Dryga, Calon
Diagnosis: Acute paranoid schizophrenia; suffers from violent hallucinations, in which he claims to interact with his emotions in the form of "spectres." They seem to sway his judgement in ways ranging from simple suggestion to threats of physical violence; the violence is how he accounts for his self-mutilation. He doesn't seem to be particularly violent against others, and is surprisingly lucid and intelligent despite his disorder. However, he speaks mostly to the spectres, and rarely to other people. He has the erratic mood swings one would expect from his condition.
Suggested Treatment: A regular dosage of Haliperotal, and an extended stay in the facilities under study, with regular therapy.
Prognosis: With proper medication and therapy, there is a chance that Calon could recover. However, his symptoms are quite severe, so the chance is rather slim.[/QUOTE]

[quote name='The Journal of Calon Dryga, August 18th, 2005']angers back. says i gotta do it again. i know its bad, but anger doesnt like it when i say no. he does bad things. real bad. i try to lock myself up sometimes, so i cant do what he says. but he just hurts me. real bad. i...i don wanna do it anymore. but he he hes real strong, and real mean. i...i gotta. i gotta do it. more blood.[/quote]

[CENTER]*****[/CENTER]

[COLOR=SlateGray][SIZE=1]Fractured Mind is not going to be one of my typical RPs. No great battles, no demons, no monsters. It's more of a study into the mind of a broken man, doing his best with the odds stacked against him, and his own mind turning on him. He seeks freedom, but it is doubtful he'll ever find it. All he can hope for is a swift death at the hands of others, and do his own twisted bidding in the meantime.

The main cast in this story, and the ones with all the true power, are Calon's emotions. Some were mentioned in the above diary entries; Anger, Hate, Fear, and Desire. However, any concievable emotion is fair game. And they can take any form you desire, as long as it fits their true self. Anger isn't going to be a fluffy pink bunny, nor is compassion a giant, evil-looking dragon.

However, the emotions aren't the only players in this little story. Others exist around Calon, and though he may not do it often, he does acknowledge and interact with others. Others could be people who share his apartment complex, police officers investigating the recent rash of murders, or, if you're feeling generous, potential victims. Again, go wild, but keep things logical. This is taking place in New York City, so make sure everything fits.

Sign-Up Sheet -
[B]Name:[/B] For the Emotions, this is what the emotion is; for normal people, just a name
[B]Gender:[/B] Gender for people, masculine/femenine/androgynous for the Emotions
[B]Age:[/B] N/A for Emotions. Or, if you like, you could put them down as 18 (the years Calon has been "visited" by them)
[B]Appearance:[/B] Pictures, or a solid written description.
[B]Personality:[/B] For the Emotions, don't just put "Angry all the time" for Anger, or "Depressed" for Sorrow. Put some meat on there; just because they ARE emotions doesn't mean they're one-dimensional.
[B]Writing Sample:[/B]

As it's late, I'll have to edit Calon's profile later, but I'll get some basics out there first:

[B]Name:[/B] Calon Dryga
[B]Gender:[/B] Male
[B]Age:[/B] 30
[B]Appearance:[/B] Calon is not an especially attractive man. Not to say, of course, that he is ugly, he's just not particularly handsome. In fact, he's pretty much nondescript to the point of near annonymity. This is a facet that he tries to cultivate, so that he can escape unnoticed in most situations. He likes to avoid people, and emotional attachments, as best he can to keep from hurting others, or getting hurt himself.

His hair is simple black, usually limp and slightly greasy from lack of attention. He keeps it down to about ear length, and usually wears a battared black hat over it. His eyes are narrow, usually blood-shot, and a simple brown in color. He has pale skin from avoiding going outside much, and is scrawny almost to the point of emaciated, simply because he doesn't think about eating. He's stubbly because he doesn't shave much, but it in over-all good condition.

As far as his wardrobe goes, Calon keeps up his annonymous fashion. Plain blue jeans and t-shirts are the order of the day, usually solid colors or whatever else he can find cheap and close-by. Most of his things are ratty and very warn in, often with dark stains that are quite probably blood, tears, or a mixture of the two.

[B]Personality:[/B] Calon is an extremely introverted man, doing his best to keep from interacting with people and putting them in danger. He's silent most of the time, and always speaks in a calm, soft tone. Nearly all the time, he seems reserved and emotionless, doing whatever jobs he has with cold, detatched efficiency. However, there are times in which he becomes quite emotional.

During interactions with his Emotions, Calon is predictably afflicted with extreme moodswings, shifting based on which spectres are present. When he interacts with them, though, he is usually afraid, confused, or angry. He's often reduced to fits of tears or screaming matches with them, often frightening people in the neighbouring rooms of his aparetment.

[B]Writing Sample:[/B] Calon sat quiet and huddled in a dark corner of his dirty apartment. Broken pieces of wood and glass were strewn about him, and a fierce dark shadow loomed over him. The vague dark shape seemed to radiate raw power, and undiluted fury. It spoke with a hard, oily voice that quaked with rage and hatred. Calon shivered as that voice crashed over him like a wave.

[B]I said do it again, Calon![/B]

The small, pale man turned to the hallucination - that's what the doctors said it was - and managed to squeak out a single sentence.

"I...I don't w-want to..."

[B]I don't care what you want, you little sh.it![/B] Anger roared. [B]You will do as I say, or you know what will happen.[/B]

Calon flinched, an ingrained response from the years of abuse he suffered at the hands of his own mind.

[B]J-Just do it, Calon...[/B]

It was a dry and reedy voice that spoke. Calon turned to face the speaker, and his mouth twisted into a grimace of disgust. No matter how many times he saw Pain, it still make him feel ill. The shadowy figure of Fear loomed behind the twisted freak, flanked by the small body of Shame.

[B]Come on Calon,[/B] was Fear's fluid reply. [B]Do it and get it done.[/B]

[B]And m-make it quick already,[/B] Shame added, her voice a watery sob.

The figure of Hope flickered briefly before Calon's eyes, but it was gone as soon as he could blink. Without his strength and influence, Calon could only give in.

"A-Alright...I'll do it."

For this RP, I just wanted to try something different, and hopefully it'll go over well. If not...ah, well, at least I tried. Best wishes to you all, and I hope to get this thing off the ground soon. Ja ne.[/SIZE][/COLOR]
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(Looks Interesting...)

Name: Aubrey Hughes

Gender: Male

Age: 26

Appearance: Aubrey has the looks of a man in his chosen profession; a cook at a local cafe. He may not be the most noticeable individual out there, which is just as well because he's not trying to attract the attention of anyone in particular. Being flashy just isn't in his nature, and he doesn't approve of all the peacocks he sees coming into the cafe.

As a cook, he keeps his dirty blond hair clipped short so that it doesn't get into the food, but it has grown shaggy as of late, forcing him to tie it into a small tail. His eyes are a clear gray, but he has been told that, under the right conditions, they seem blue. He's also tall, an impressive 6'4", and he finds it amusing when his younger cousins make comments on how tall he is.

His sense of fashion reflects how he is as a person; casual blue jeans and worn out sneakers, with the occasional dress shirt thrown in for good measure. He rarely dresses up for any occasion, but looks decent when he does bother to get into a three-piece suit.

Personality: Aubrey is a calm person who spends a lot of his free time reading. However, he is definently the sort who would easily get into a fist fight with a punk if it became necessary. He is not adverse to teaching anyone a lesson either--he has been known to invite Jehova's Witnesses into his apartment for a cup of coffee, and then lecture them about going around trying to convert people.

"Not everyone believes in God, you know. You may be trying to convince a Buddhist to join your church."

However, his emotional reaction seems flat at times--it's like he feels nothing for the person across the hall who recently lost her cat. But he isn't a jerk about it, merely the tell-me-none-of-your-problems-and-i'll-tell-you-none-of-mine sort.

Writing Sample:

Aubrey never thought he would see them in that particular apartment building.

They were there, no less, and he laughed inaudibly at the sight of them knocking at Kari?s door. He knew that she was out?probably at the grocery store getting more ingredients for another one her culinary fiascos?but he decided to let them fumble around a bit.

After a moment, he stepped out of his apartment, a filled bag from the kitchen garbage can acting as the perfect excuse. He caught them just as they were about to leave.

?I didn?t think I?d see the day,? He said airily, half to himself, but knew that the strangers had heard.

?What do you mean?? The one, a middle aged woman, asked. She seemed a little confused. Perhaps she thought there was some breaking news?some sort of tragedy in Europe involving fires and buses filled with tiny school children?

Aubrey smiled. ?I never thought I?d see a couple of Witnesses in this particular building.?

?Oh!? The other one piped, a younger woman probably in her late twenties. ?We?re not from this building?we live in the one across the street.

?I see.?

He set the bag down outside of his door and leaned against the wall, making himself comfortable. It had been a fantasy of his for years, cornering a couple of Jehovah?s Witnesses and boxing them in so that they couldn?t escape.

Inside he felt a thrill. It looked like today was going to be his lucky day.

?Jehovah, right?? He questioned. The younger one nodded eagerly, her eyes bright as a child?s. That very gleam was all too familiar to Aubrey; it was just like that annoying high school student that popped into the café in the afternoon and stayed till closing, drinking mocha after mocha until she was vibrating.

?You do realize that those very same letters could be pronounced ?Yahweh?.? At their blank look, he feigned horror, "You don?t!? Dear God in heaven, Ladies, but where did you go to school??
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Name: Honor

Gender: Male

Age: N/A

Appearance: Honor has a solidly built six foot tall figure, muscular but compact, not bulgeing. He is bald and looks to be Italian. His eyes are misty blue, and his skin is slightly tan. He is a good looking fellow by most standards. He wears combat pants and boots along with an FDNY off duty shirt and a NYPD ball cap. He is clean shaved and well groomed.

Personality: If there was one emotion that was fighting for Calon's freedom, it was Honor. Being created in and of the emotion it is the driving force that keeps him going, but he also is not stupid, he has common sence. He is loving and but a little quick to anger, but doesn't stay angry. He is generaly mellow, but has a mix of all emotions as is only healthy. He is much like the people he seems to be a mix of, police and figher fighters and soldiers. His tears are saved for when tears are right and his joy and laughter are saved for when they are needed, Honor has checked his own interaction with the others. He is strong willed but thoughtfull, tough but loving, gentel but firm.

Writing sample:

Honor sat silently in the corner...it killed him not to try and stop them, but if he did they could kill Calon. Anger and Hate and Lust, all at once Honor could never fight them, one on one yes, but not together. So now he sat, bowing his head in shame, stashed away. The girl was almost running now, almost...she would make a rush for the door any moment, and then Lust would take over, right now Anger was leading the group. Honor looked at her, her eyes, swimming in fear. They had been soft once, loving, the kind of eyes some one could get lost in all night and never notice the time fly by.

Her eyes.

Honor watched them, she begain to look at the door, but the others didn't seem to notice. He looked into her eyes again...then his natural instinct took over.

"Colan...stop." he said, his voice calm, but loud.

"But..they'll hurt me."

"Stop." Honor stood...staring at Colan.

"Shut up Honor! Or we'll kill him." one of the other three shouted, or maybe all three...he wasn't sure.

A chair flew in his general direction, but not an actuall attack. "Leave her alone."
Colan was starting to get confused...and that wasn't good.

"Colan, close your eyes, don't think about it, put them out of your mind!"

Something hit Honor square in the face, now he couldn't stand back, he tried, but he couldn't. He rushed forward and tackled the first emotion, not knowing or caring who it was. As he did this the girl lept for the door, and Colan was so confused he didn't even realise she had left. He simply put his hands over his ears, shut his eyes and began to rock slightly, mumbling.

...
"Damn it Honor!" Anger punched him in the face again,
"Why do you have to be so stubborn?!" the question was very much retorical...but Honor couldn't resist, "It's who I am...just like you're a jerk off."

Another punch in the face and Honor was out cold.
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[size=1][color=#7D8593][B]Name-[/B] Fear
[B]Gender-[/B] Female
[B]Age-[/B] Older than time itself.
[B]Appearance-[/B] Taking on many forms, Fear has no definite appearance or at least that?s what they presume considering she?s never shown her true form. She can become the most deranged and gruesome of all monsters or even become the most timid and kind but still, she is Fear and Fear always has a twinkle in her eye underneath the depths of darkness and destruction. Of the many forms she has, Fear has three forms she takes on, the dominant, which is indubitably the most ferocious, the secondary, and then the last resort, as most would call it. Depending on how she feels, Fear will choose the state she wishes to be in.

Beginning with the [URL=http://img83.imageshack.us/img83/6398/shadowselene1hl.jpg]dominant state[/URL] of Fear, she is shown as a solid yet opaque and shadowy figure, almost as if she were part of the shadows. This is the form that is seen by Calon most often, if not all the time. When Fear chooses to take a solid form, she can choose to have a head, a head and torso, or show all of her body, but mostly, she likes to tease Calon by appearing with only her upper half and wrap herself around Calon.

At over forty feet in length, the [URL=http://img83.imageshack.us/img83/4161/wolfdragon9nn.jpg]secondary state[/url] of Fear?s forms is enormous. The head of the creature is similar to that of a wolf?s that becomes elongated into a dragon?s neck and gives way to the body. The creatures may appear wolf-like at the head but it bears draconic features. It has three horns- one that rises above the nostrils and the other two protruding at the top of his head between his ears and curving upward, the scales of a dragon covering the wolf?s head, and it also has nine eyes- two before the snout and a few inches before the ears, a large eye on its chest, one on each leg, and two very large eyes on each wing. As the form grows into its secondary state, its ?body? becomes long and agile, similar to that of a snake-like dragon but with the exception that fur and scales cover its thick skin and the other exception that . The legs of the creature are almost like that of a dragon?s leg but quickly turning into a wolf?s paw with dragon claws. Without wings, what would a draconic wolf be? The skeletal wings are thirty feet in length with a thin layer of skin that has a prismatic effect in any light and makes it as though the wings were glowing. To top it all off, Fear?s secondary state has sharp teeth and a growling tone that says she should not be messed with for its fearsome with a temperamental mind that could switch instantly, along with a raging appetite that is never satisfied.

Finally, Fear has something worthy of calling herself, well, Fear. In an effort, she gathers a bit of each emotion, taking in a piece of them with her and creates the image that cannot be called away. Except, she has yet to try this for Calon?s fear is, at the most, strong but not enough for her to even allow a tinge of effort to create the last resort. So, in vain effort, Fear?s last resort has yet to become what it is. Though in her mind, the last resort is but a puppeteer, waiting to throw around everyone like rag dolls.

[B]Personality-[/B] Fear is a creature filled with torment and torture, enwrapping those around her into the darkness she?s created, allowing them no passage anywhere but to the depths of a place where she alone rules. She knows your every thought and knows of the place in the back of your mind where the one thing that you fear the most lives. She can be the darkness in the corner that could, at any moment, devour your very soul, leaving you to be a living corpse or be the monster in the closet that could make you disappear from the world and entrap you to be her slave for eternity yet she despises being defined and labeled as that though she doesn?t mind what people say about her except should any pestilent beings choose to mock her and allow her name to be ridiculed, she will show those who defy her what can hurt them the most and how she can do it for Fear is all about punishment or play, it ultimately is determined by how she feels to choose how they should be tortured. It?s nothing but a game to her and in that sense, no one ever win?s Fear?s game.

Other than the way she ?plays? with everything, Fear has another side to her that makes her complex and unorthodox. Some see her as a monster but the other emotions see her only as a child at heart, if she had a heart. She runs about causing chaos and destruction in people?s lives, laughing at their demise and always finding someway to annoy and even pull pranks on the other Emotions, wondering what their reaction would be, just waiting for that sudden moment they gasp. It?s what she feeds on, that little gasp of surprise or shock, and slowly it?ll turn to even greater gasps of screams and silence. She doesn?t know exactly how to contain the fear that she consumes but she manages even without her knowing it.

Other than Fear?s way of interacting and being the person that she is, she has a tendency to gather parts of people?s aura and keep them as specimens, pets, whatever you wish to call it, teaching them little tricks as you would do to a dog. She cares nothing for anyone else yet she will do anything to help her ?family? of Emotions. Strange, isn?t it? The stranger thing about Fear is her laugh which can sound like that of an angel?s whispers or suddenly break into a maniacal laughter that a psychotic and delusional person would laugh but all at the same time, she can still be who she is. Albeit, the only times she acts in a matter that is not deranged, is when she is having fun or with the other Emotions.

[B]Writing Sample-[/B] The mumblings of Calon soon began to grow as he sat in the corner, holding his hands to his ears and rocking away in an endless and worthless effort to rid himself of Fear.

?You?re not real, fear is not real, you?re not real, fear is not real.?

A gentle hand came to touch Calon but he closed his eyes and kept them shut. The hand lifted his chin and as his hands came down from his ears, his eyes came to open and they met Fear?s empty, white eyes and chills ran down his spine as if it were a race. His eyes then began to trace her face, discovering her smile was that of black lips and her teeth were as white as pure snow, and he then came to realize the hand that touched his face. It was warm yet when Fear moved it away; the fingertips had a chilling effect. Everything about Fear made Calon shiver and wish he was anywhere but there, away from her but at the same time, he was drawn to her, as if he wanted to know more about her and that was what made him afraid.

As Fear began to hover away from Calon, her formless body began to take an appearance; legs that wore black boots began to appear, then the torso, and then the upper body, which was covered by a simple black top that allowed her stomach to be revealed, which then brought her arms to form, covered by black elbow gloves, and then at last, the head formed. Fear turned to Calon, who slowly stood up, and she still wore the deviant smile.

In such amazement, Calon still managed to say, ?You?re not real. You?re not real. You?re inside my head.?

The smile quickly dropped and the room began to shake, making Calon grab for the nearest handle he could find. Fear?s appearance became distorted and almost as if Calon was watching a television set with bad reception and the picture was going in and out. Her hands became claw-like, her body began to grow spikes, and her legs turned into raptor-like legs, whereas her head grew horns and a reptilian bird-like face with ferocious teeth. That wasn?t final though; her voice soon took a turn and became demonic and dark

?I?m not real, am I? Then maybe you want to see something that [i]is[/i] real!? Calon?s eyes widened as Fear brought him closer and closer to her. Once close enough, Fear took Calon and gripped her claws around his waist, nearly crushing him till he couldn?t breathe. ?Do not, by any means, underestimate me, Calon! I will crush you in less than a second if you ever should!? Everything slowly reverted back to normal as Fear calmed down and Calon was once again standing and breathing, or at the moment collapsed on the ground and finding air. ?But since I can?t crush, demolish, destroy, and whatnot, devouring your fear is the best and even more, making you squeamish and hearing you scream is just a joy! Now then, what should we do??[/size][/color]
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Sounds good. Let me know if you want anything changed.

[B]Name:[/B] [I]Pleasure[/I]

[B]Gender:[/B] [I]Masculine[/I]

[B]Age:[/B] [I]N/A[/I]

[B]Appearance:[/B] [I]Much like the other Emotions, Pleasure isn’t bound to one form indefinitely. He can alter his appearance to suit the occasion or as he sees fit. His original appearance is that of a handsome man. Pleasure stands at around 5’10” and weighs roughly 170 lbs. His body his covered with well developed and defined muscles that make him appear much larger than he actually is. Pleasure has light brown hair that is always spiked upwards and his hazel eyes always, naturally, glow with pleasure. He mostly wears only blue jeans and black shoes and chooses to wear nothing over his torso so to enjoy the jealous looks he gets from Calon.[/I]

[B]Personality:[/B] [I]Pleasure, as to be expected, enjoys pleasure in every form, no matter how small. He takes nothing for granted and is very manipulative in his approach towards Calon. Pleasure is very intelligent and intuitive and is one of the emotions that sometimes tortures Calon and at other times shares the pleasure he feels. This is of course decided by Pleasure’s own mood and normally tends to change frequently depending on which gives the most pleasure.

Pleasure is a little more easy going than say Anger and prefers to laugh and tends to enjoy the moment and gain every ounce of pleasure from it that he can. It is for this very reason that Pleasure sometimes gets on the bad side of some of the other Emotions. Pleasure is closely linked with Desire and the two regularly share time together and frequently make petty bets on who can sway Calon or manipulate him better.[/I]

[B]Writing Sample:[/B] [I]In his filthy, under-funded apartment Calon sat staring into what was left of his long mirror. Anger had got hold of him and the broken mirror was the result. He could see the blood seeping from the small slit above his eye and his hands were stained crimson.

It was at this moment that Pleasure decided to intervene.

Sitting himself in the corner, running his hands down the soft fabric of Calon’s bed, Pleasure sat staring at this broken man whom the Emotions had been tearing at for near enough two decades now. A sly curl spread across his lips as he moved over to Calon’s battered and whimpering form.[/I]

[B]Pleasure:[/B] Don’t worry Cally-boy, you know He get like that now and again. You’d probably find it much easier to just do as he says.

[B]Calon:[/B] But it’s wrong...

[B]Pleasure:[/B] Try not to think of it like that. You know...somewhere in the back of your mind you’d rather have others suffer than you.

[I]At this Calon immediately jumped up and began shouting[/I]

[B]Calon:[/B] That’s not true!

[B]Pleasure:[/B] Of course it is. If you really felt bad for these people that He makes you hurt you’d just accept your fate and let him kill you. But the thought of you dying is too hard to bear, even when you live like this. *Pleasure gestures his hands to the filth ridden place* Admit it, you enjoy the abuse, the killing and the overall pleasure of it.*Pleasure rolls his tongue as he speaks his own name, as if gaining some perverse joy from it*

[I]Calon drops to his knees and begins whimpering again whispering ‘No’ and ‘It’s not true’ to himself although realising at the back of his mind that Pleasure only speak the truth. Finally gaining enough confidence to face Pleasure, Calon pulls himself up only to face a young attractive woman dressed something a kin to Little Red Riding Hood in Pleasures’ place.[/I]

[B]LRRH:[/B] Speaking of overall pleasure *The Woman spoke sexily with a hint of lust in her voice* why don’t you come here and work away your frustration.

[I]Calon was reluctant at first, but whispers from his jeans overrode his reluctance. As he walked towards her, the woman began to slowly untie the small rope holding her cloak closed over what appeared to be her naked body. Just when he got to her and pulled the cloak hungrily away the woman was gone. In her place was a cowering, naked very young girl.

At this Calon cringed and turned away realising that he had yet again been tricked by one of his own Emotions. Again Pleasure was sitting behind him in the girls place laughing hysterically.[/I]

[B]Pleasure:[/B] Oh man! I am so good! You can’t make this stuff up you know!

[I]Pleasure continued laughing as Calon threw himself down upon his bed outright crying this time.[/I]

Hope that’s what you meant by sample.
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[SIZE=1]My my isn't this an interesting little RPG.

[b]Name:[/b] Hope

[b]Gender:[/b] Masculine

[b]Age:[/b] N/A

[b]Appearance:[/b] Hope has really only two true appearances, the first, shown [url=http://adventkane.250free.com/McFadyen.jpg][B]here[/B][/url] is the form Calon and the other emotions would most associate him with. In this form, Hope stands just over six feet in height and appears to weigh somewhere in the region of eighty kilos, his body is athletically toned with well defined muscles spread throughout. He always dresses in white or light, neutral coloured clothing, usually just a pair of plain chinos and a shirt of some description, though he can appear more formal if necessary. Like his daughter-figure Forgiveness, Hope is always barefooted when he appears to Calon, but on occasion he has worn socks and footwear if his feet feel cold, which is strange since he's just part of Calon's imagination and thus shouldn't feel cold.

In his other form, Hope takes on a amorphous profile similar and yet opposite to Anger, while Anger is a large, black shadow when he appears to Calon, Hope has been known to become a large shapeless, radiantly white outline though this really only occurs when he does battle with Anger in front of Calon. It is in this form that the other associate emotions to Anger, most notably Fear and Hate are capable of trapping Hope and restricting him from being unable to return to his human form, and thus are able to torture Calon without interference from Hope or Forgiveness.

[b]Personality:[/b] Hope is one of the only emotions on Calon's side, and as such is nearly always at war with the other parts of his (Calon's) persona. Because there are so many emotions fighting against Hope, he often find himself suppressed entirely and unable to reach Calon to offer him some kind of stability and support that might help him resist the tortures Anger and the others condemn him to. Eternally optimistic he believes that someday that darker and more malevolent parts of Calon?s personality will be banished and that Calon himself will be able to go on and lead a normal life.

Hope himself is the quintessential human emotion, ever present, no matter how deeply Anger, Fear and Hate may seek to bury him he is always there and always countering their nature with his own. He is always pleasant, which sickens Anger more than he can bare to admit, his courage draws the wrath of Fear upon him, and his compassion is enough for Hate to be forever trying to destroy him. But for all of Hate, Anger and Fear?s efforts they have yet be unable to do anything more that inhibit Hope for periods at a time. Although he would never admit it, for fear of placing Forgiveness in danger, her presence with him is once of the greatest sources of his strength, without which Hope mightn't have the strength to keep fighting Anger, Hate and Fear.

[b]Writing Sample:[/b] [i]Hope sighed heavily as a terrified and sobbing Calon cried large patches into his shirt, Anger had paid him a particularly nasty visit only moments beforehand, which Hope had been forced to watch as Fear and Hate cackled maniacally. Hope's right hand stroked through Calon's hair, while Forgiveness looked on, tears welling up in her large soft eyes. He felt sick knowing that all this pain, all Calon's suffering could be caused by such a malevolent entity like Anger, with his free hand he called over Forgiveness to come sit on his lap, he knew that all the hope in the world wouldn't be enough to undo the damage and torture Calon had been forced to endure, but having hope wasn't about undoing the damage, it was about making this better.

After a few minutes, Calon's sobbing stopped and he turned to face Hope and Forgiveness, his eyes were bloodshot and his voice strained from all the crying, he looked at the tears forming in Forgiveness' eyes and fresh ones began to form in his own, he groaned meekly and began sobbing again into Hope's shoulder, repeating the same phrase over and over.[/i]

[b]Calon:[/b] I'm so sorry Hope... I tried to stop myself but Anger was... I was too weak, too afraid to fight him.

[i]Hope gave a long shush to try to and calm Calon down, his hand moving down between Calon's shoulders and rubbing his back, as a father would to a son. He knew Calon wasn't strong enough to fight off Anger, especially without either Hope or Forgiveness near him to draw courage from, but somewhere deep down, Hope knew that at some point in the future Calon would be strong enough and then Anger's grip on the young man would be broken. [/i]

[b]Hope:[/b] It's alright Calon, I know Anger frightens you, I know he hurts you, and I'm sorry I wasn't there to be able to help you fight him. But I'm here now and so is Forgiveness, and you know we don't blame you for what you've done, because you're not the one in control, it's neither your will nor your nature to do these awful things. But you have to be strong Calon, Anger preys on weakness, he strikes you when you are your most vulnerable because he's a coward like all bullies, and when you get strong Calon, and you will keep strong I promise you that, then Anger won't be able to make you do things because he won't be the one strong enough.

[b]Calon:[/b] [[I]Looking back up at Hope[/i]] You mean that Hope ? You really mean that, that Anger won't be able to make me hurt people when I don't want to ?

[b]Hope:[/b] [[i]Grasping Calon's two hands[/i]] I promise you that Calon, I promise that when you get strong, Anger won't ever be able to hurt you again.

[b]Forgiveness:[/b] [[i]Whispering[/i]] You did well today Hope, he'll get better and he'll be stronger for it because he knows we'll be there with him.

[i]Hope hugged Calon, he had failed to protect him today, and the penalty for Calon had been harsh, he wouldn't fail Calon again, Hope promised himself he wouldn't...[/i]

[CENTER]---------------[/CENTER]

[B][Edit][/B] Sorry I took so long to finish ULX, I thought you weren't proceeding with the RPG, plus I kind of forgot about this... [/SIZE]
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[COLOR=#FF374C][SIZE=1][B]Name:[/B] DI Elizabeth Connor
[B]Gender:[/B] Female
[B]Age:[/B] 34
[B]Appearance:[/B] Elizabeth is a woman who puts her career before anything else and because of this she doesn?t usually have the best appearance. With messy hair, no make up and bags under her eyes, she usually looks worn out.

Because of her hectic lifestyle, Beth keeps things like style and makeup to the bare-minimum. This is why her hair is cut short, just to the base of her neck, and she never wears any makeup except for some hastily added lip-gloss.

She isn't an unattractive woman, and when she actually tries, she looks quite pretty. Her hair is a mix of red and chestnut brown, her eyes are dark green and freckles lightly cover her cheeks.

[B]Personality:[/B] Being the dedicated, but ever so lightly selfless, woman that she is, Beth has made quite a name for herself in New York City as one of the most efficient and ruthless detectives. When she?s on a case she?s like a charging bull and anyone who tries to get in her way will be mowed down without question.

Gifted with a brilliant mind but a less than elegant way of putting herself across, Beth tends to fumble through explanations and theories in her own jumbled manner. She?s a one woman show and usually prefers to work on her own but is more than happy to let someone tag along, despite the fact she?s a little unorganised.

She is, however, a workaholic and has got into the bad habit of sleeping in her office over the last couple of months, much to the dismay of the janitor. She tends to be quite untidy and has on more than one occasion lost paperwork in the vortex that is her desk.
[B]Writing Sample:[/B] Beth grunted slightly as a heavy hand shook her roughly by the shoulder. She tried to bat the invader away, only to find, to her dismay, that her knuckles met the less-than-soft metal of her filing cabinet. She hissed and sat bolt upright, sucking on the red and swollen knuckles.

"Do you actually own an apartment, Beth? Because it sure would be nice if you stayed there every once in a while."

The detective?s eyes met that of her colleague, DI Marv Jones. He was a big man, but a friendly soul, he had to be, working with Beth.

"Geez, I'm sorry, Marv...I was just...just-"

"Working?"

"...Yeah. Sorry."

The man sighed and stalked into his office, leaving Beth in the tip that was her working space. Her sanctuary. ....A sanctuary covered in Coke bottles and empty Burger King boxes. She sighed resignedly and knocked some stuff off of her desk, uncovering the papers beneath.

It had been a long night and she hadn't made any headway. No matter, the others were working on it. She was out in the field today--lucky her.

Suddenly the phone rang, cutting through Beth's thoughts easily. She jerked her hand forward on impulse and grabbed the phone, kicking some rubbish out of her way,
"DI Connor." she said, her business tone coming through with more of a rough sound so early in the--she checked her watch--...afternoon.

"Connor. We've found another one."

Beth cursed and brought a hand to her face, pressing her fingertips into her closed eyes, "Okay, sir, Marv and I will be right there."

"Watch out, this one?s violent."

"Aren't they always?"[/SIZE][/COLOR]
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[size=1][b]Name[/b]- Anger
[b]Gender[/b]-?he..he made me do it..?[i]~ Calon[/i]
[b]Age[/b]- 18 years, and counting
[b]Appearance[/b]- [quote=Calon?s last visit to the shrink][size=1] [b]Doctor[/b]- ?Okay, Calon, one last question. What does ?Anger? look like to you??

[b]Calon[/b]- ?He?s?.just a shadowy figure.?

[b]Doctor[/b]- ?You mean, he doesn?t have a body like the rest??

[b]Calon[/b]- ?N-no. Every time I see him, he?s?just dark. I can?t make out his shape.?

[b]Doctor[/b]- ?Then how can you be sure if he?s a man??

[b]Calon[/b]- ?Because his voice is scary. He yells at me a lot. When he gets really angry at me, he gets bigger and bigger. ?

[b]Doctor[/b]- ?So, he?s just a huge, black shadow??

[b]Calon[/b]- ?That?s what I said, you f--king moron!?[/size][/quote]

[b]Personality[/b]- Anger is pretty dominant in Calon?s life. Conceited and arrogant, but unfulfilled like a spoiled brat. Anger is frustrated with Calon?s cowardice and hesitation to do his will. Anger feels he is more powerful than the rest of the ?others?, and should have free reign over Calon. But when Calon gives the slightest hint of repression and doubt, Anger quickly retorts violently and mercilessly.

[b]Writing Sample[/b]- ?You know he deserves it, Calon.?

?He didn?t mean-?

?Horseshit. You?re just a pansy, Calon. This man tried to hurt you, and you?re just going to let him get the best of you? What a p.ussy. Desire has more gull than you.?

?Shut up! Stop making fun of me!? Calon shouted at him.

?Making fun of you? Let me tell you something, you little sh.it. Truth hurts! I don?t hurt you, the truth of yourself hurts you.?

?You?re a liar!? Calon?s fists balled so tightly, his untrimmed fingernails dug deep into his palms. Blood seeped between his whitened knuckles and dripped to the carpet.

?Since when did you gather the balls to speak to me like this? You know what I will do to you, Calon. So do as I say!?

?Bu--?

?Don?t you dare defy me!? Anger lashed out with the seat Calon had been sitting in, belting the fragile body across the face.

Calon lay limp over the man?s body. He was hardly breathing now. His face was stained in coagulated blood, and his greasy hair became to his face like a fly to a piece of sticky paper. Perhaps Anger was right about this man. Perhaps Anger had saved Calon from this man?s attack. The man was known to be abusive, and had been reported on a few to several occasions of domestic abuse to his wife and children. One wouldn?t tell from the looks of this apartment, but the family was messed up. Anger had forced Calon to sneak into the apartment, and here they stayed for nearly an hour.

?Here, Calon,? Anger handed Calon the man?s rusted and dulled knife, ?Be kind, and aim for this spot right here..? Anger traced Calon?s throat.

?This blade won?t cut his skin,? Calon eyed the blade.

?Make it cut!? Anger lashed out again, only this time it was a picture frame from the small coffee table, ?Do it, or I?ll stab you in the chest with it! And don?t think for a split second that I won?t! You are mine, Calon. ?[/size]
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  • 2 weeks later...
[COLOR=SlateGray][SIZE=1]Quick question, folks, but an important one:

Is anyone actually going to do their writing sample? By this, I mean the people who still haven't, of which there are quite a few. I don't mean to *****, but I'd rather like to know whether I should keep hoping to start this or not. Because if you're not going to bother to type up a few paragraphs for a sample, why bother starting the real thing, you know?

I do want to start this, but not if so many people aren't going to complete their sign up.

Okay, that's all I had to say.[/SIZE][/COLOR]
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[size=1][b]Name:[/b] Forgiveness
[b]Gender:[/b] Feminine
[b]Age:[/b] NA

[b]Appearance:[/b] Unlike most of the other emotions, Forgiveness has a set form, one that she chose a long time ago. She is about the height of a seven year old child, with a rosy face, heart-shaped, and a kind, always forgiving smile. Her eyes are large and round, and the deep, rich purple of a plum. Framing her lovely young face is a curtain of chestnut curls, falling neatly to her waist, never bound back. She wears a skirt that falls to her ankles in the same purple as her eyes, patterned with lavender flowers, and a white button-up shirt that she leaves tucked in. Her feet are always bare, and they are tiny feet indeed.

[b]Personality:[/b] As her name implies, she is very forgiving. Although childish and sometimes shy, Forgiveness is always there for Calon when he needs her, and when she isn't helping Calon, she is clinging to Hope. She follows him around as if he was her father, or older brother maybe. She is sneered at and made fun of by the other emotions, especially Anger. Still, whenever she is made fun of, she merely smiles and tells them she forgives them. She is incapable of hating anyone, and whever someone makes a mistake in what they mean to do, she is there to reassure them and tell them she is not angry with them. However, like Hope, she has a hard time reaching Calon, and often sneaks in and talks to him when Anger and the others are busy.

[b]Writing Sample:[/b]

Anger had finally subsided. Forgiveness looked around, and managed to spot the limp form of Calon, slumped against a wall and shaking. Even from her spot across the room, she could see he was crying. A dead man lay on the floor at his feet, and a knife was held limply in one hand. She waited until Anger turned his attention to something else and then she crept over to the devastated man. Somehow she got him to sit down, and then she crawled in his lap. Curling her small legs up under her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and placed her cheek against his.

Forgiveness smiled at him, placing her forehead against his, and looking straight into his eyes. Calon felt he could get lost in their rich purple depths, and she smiled encouragingly.

[b]Forgiveness -[/b] "Don't let Anger bring you down, Calon. No matter what you do, I will always be here, and I will always forgive you. Killing that man did nothing to who you are. Don't let that hurt you. I forgive you. Hope is there, just within your reach, if you would talk to him. We want to help. We love you, Calon."

Hearing the shuffle of Anger's feet behind her, she slipped out of Calon's lap and back to the floor, walking back over to where Hope stood, looking dejected, although there was a hint of a smile on his face. She stood next to him and slipped her hand into his, leaning against his familiar warmth. Then, she simply smiled.

Meh, not very long, but I think it brings my point across. What do you think, ULX?[/size]
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