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 Posted: Tue Nov 24, 2009 4:50 pm
You've stumbled upon the elusive RP Contest thread! Please keep your hands to yourself as these Scents tend to bite~.
The RP contest will be held from December 1st @ 12 AM EST till December 20th @ 11:59 PM EST. There is no fee. They are free.
The RP Contest you will be entering is a special RP Contest. Both of the Scents up for grabs are already emerged from their oils and are either at their Child or Teen stage. Both of these Scents are also special in the fact that they are going to be heavily integrated into our plot system, and also have pre-determined background information about them. These two are not clean slates. On top of that these two Scents do not have owners. You are RPing the Scents themselves and no one else.
You will be able to pick their names, and that is it. Everything else has been chosen and already drawn for you.
If you do not wish to become heavily involved in our Shop's current plot-line, and do not like the idea of competing for Scents with pre-determined histories, we have other Scents for you to try for elsewhere!_______The Lost Ones
The Lost Ones are Scents, just like any other Scents, who in the end were abandoned by their owners either by choice, unforeseeable circumstances or something entirely different. The Lost Ones do not have owners anymore, and are instead just the emerged Scents themselves.
We call them "Lost" because they no longer have any resemblance to who they initially were. The personalities they were born with changed as a result of their unfortunate circumstances, and the scent they give off no longer indicate exactly how the child is.
Let me introduce you to our first batch of Lost Ones.
P.S. I Love You: Female - Child. WINNER IS HOSTEL_EN_FRUNK!
- Original Personality Keywords; Loving, Dedicated, Charming.
- New Personality Keywords; Aloof, Withdrawn, Nervous.
P.S. I Love You is the enticing aroma of roses, wrapped with a blend of fresh citrus and purple lilies to give it a lovingly comforting aroma.
Background: P.S. I love You came from what was once a loving home with a mother and a father. A bit of a Daddy's girl, her easily jealous and controlling mother sprang fights with her father until one day P.S. I Love You awoke to find herself home alone. Several days passed and neither her mother nor father returned. P.S. I Love You blamed her parents disappearance on her mother and is now very distrusting of women.
Jungle Fever: Female - Teen WINNER IS 13THEBLACKCAT!
- Original Personality Keywords; Vibrant, Energetic, Zesty
- New Personality Keywords; Cold, Animalistic, Combative
Jungle Fever is a refreshing array of tropical fruits including Kiwi, Banana and Grape Fruit splashed with the aromatic scent of lillies, and tropical waters.
Background: Jungle Fever grew up in a single parent home. Her father was a man on the older side with anger problems and an overall contempt for the female gender, as he liked to contribute all of his problems to women. As jungle Fever blossomed into a teen, her "father's" distaste for women was then directed towards her, as well as his anger and inevitably his fists. One day Jungle Fever had finally had enough of the verbal and physical abuse she endured by her so called father, and as he raised a hand to strike her in the face, grabbed the butcher knife she had been using and drove it deep into his chest. She was arrested shortly afterwards. It is safe to say Jungle Fever does not like men all that much.
Both of these two children have had hard lives. Either having it all and than it all being quickly taken away, or never having anything and finally wanting to be free of a vicious cycle. In order for me to properly judge who would be able to play these two characters, I need to properly judge whether or not you can get into their mindsets._______Prompts & Form
P.S. I Love You and Jungle Fever each have their own specific prompts. You can try for one of them. Just fill out the form below, and post it in the thread.Prompt for P.S. I Love You A change in a child's behavior is not rapid, but gradual, meaning that P.S. I Love You did not magically become an Aloof, Withdrawn and Nervous child overnight.
For your response write a scene from the life of P.S. I Love You a few days before the disappearance of her parents. Describe her inner thoughts and feelings, and make sure to show how slowly, but surely she changed from the loving child she was to the withdrawn child she is now.
(( As an added bonus, here's some recommended music for your writing mood pleasure Enough - Disturbed. It may help you find your voice. )) Prompt for Jungle Fever
Pushing someone to the brink of their sanity was not an easy task, but low and behold Jungle Fever's "father" did it. As she stands there with the knife, blood dripping down her hands from the homicide she has just committed what thoughts are racing through her mind? What feelings have overwhelmed her being? Is she upset with what she had to do? Did she feel cornered without any alternative escape?
What was she thinking...
(( As an added bonus, here's some recommended music for your writing mood pleasure Facade - Disturbed. It may help you find your voice. ))
[b]Username:[/b]
[b]Desired Scent:[/b]
[b]Desired Name:[/b]
[b]Prompt Response:[/b]
_______Entrants
None Yet!
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Posted: Wed Dec 09, 2009 8:59 am
Username: Faewynd Desired Scent: Jungle Fever Desired Name: Her father named her Dominique but she now goes by MarinettePrompt Response: It had gone in so easily... As if there were no bones or cartilage for the knife to slide through. As if his flesh had been as soft as butter. Dominique stared at the bloody tableau in front of her, startling at the sound of the knife hitting the tiled floor as it fell from her nerveless fingers. A pool of crimson blossomed on the floor, soaking his white shirt. He always wore such pristine clothing. Strange, Dominique found herself thinking, I would have thought there would be more blood. The urge to laugh tickled her chest and the girl had to suppress the hysteria that threatened to overwhelm her. She had killed him. He was dead. It felt surreal... she wasn't sure she was even really awake. "Papa?" Dominique asked in a soft voice, sure it must be another trick. Sure he would rise angrily to his feet and punish her for hurting him. "Papa? Are you..." Her voice trailed off. She didn't want to touch the body, though wether it was because she was afraid he would leap up and grab her or afraid he really was dead was hard to tell. A tear slid down one dark cheek and the girl began to shake. What have I done? She asked herself, sinking to the floor and drawing her knees up to her chin. The hysteria was still there, curled like a sleeping dragon in her chest - making her want to laugh and cry and scream. You killed him. The voice that answered her own question was a new one. It was strong. It was powerful. You killed him so he didn't kill you. You are a survivor. You are a strong girl.I killed him! Dominique whimpered as her conscience battled with her newfound strength. You did what you must. What she must. Years of fear and neglect and eventually she had believed what he had told her. Eventually she had begun to question herself and her gender, become a shell of the girl she was meant to be. But he was gone now. He would never hit her again. He would never yell or manipulate. Dominique stood up, still shaking with the shock of her actions. He would never hurt her again. Neither would anyone else.
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Posted: Wed Dec 09, 2009 4:00 pm
Username: CrimsonCutie666
Desired Scent: Jungle Fever
Desired Name: Isidra Bennick/Nerissa Riek
(I hope it's ok if I use the word s**t, if not I can edit my response)
Prompt Response:
Shaking, the knife fell from her hands and clattered to the floor, the blood flying off and splattering the already bloody area around it. Isidra's eyes widened, her breath coming in and out in gasps and pants, the adrenaline still pumping through her blood. Her eyes were fixated on the body which was still twitching slightly, obviously dying but not yet dead. She didn't dare move until it had stopped and had stayed still for what felt like forever.
Dead. He was dead. He wouldn't be hitting her anymore. Wouldn't be telling her how much of a piece of s**t she was. Never again would he mention his regret at having purchased the oil she came from. A shiver came over her, a delightful thrill that made her entire body tingle. She was free!
Free to do whatever she felt like, free to live her own life, free to feel like a being who deserved to live.......unlike him. He had deserved to die, she had thought so almost every day of her life. But never had she thought she would be the one to kill him. He was her father, a figure who demanded respect by his words and if that didn't work then by his fists. She had fresh bruises to prove it. Yet there he lay. Dead.
It wasn't planned, not at all. He had come home from who knows where, he tended to disappear everyday for hours at a time. She used to think he went to work but when she grew she learned better. His female boss had fired him for harassment on other females at work, and since Mr. Bennick had never forgiven her for the stain on his name and reputation. Isidra heard and felt his anger every day, she knew the story well. Yet here he was, home after being out since seven that morning, angry and ready to snap at the littlest provocation.
Idra had been preparing dinner from the little food they had, she was cutting up some old chicken when he began his rant about how disgusting women were and how they all needed to be put in their place by a strong demanding man like him, who wasn't afraid to use his fists when needed. As he started to berate females more, adding her name over and over again in his speech, Isidra felt a tremendous pain in her heart and body so strong she felt like she would puke. With the pain was anger, long buried underneath all the abuse she had taken. Trying to control her emotions she blocked out his voice from her mind, not hearing the question he demanded.
In his anger at not being answered he gripped her shoulder and forced her to turn around and look at him, pushing his body against hers. In her surprise and fear at what she thought he was about to do to her, Idra drove the knife clutched in her hand right into his chest where his heart was.
And so here she was. Unsure what to do next. A bitterness consumed her as she looked at him and heard the sirens outside the tiny house. Her problems were all the faults of men. The reason she had to kill was because of men. She ignored the knocking at the door, the shouts, and the warnings. She didn't even bother to look up until the police had knocked in the door and were pointing guns at her. Four of them stood around the room, guns pointed at her, yelling threats she couldn't care less about. They were all males, go figure.
As she tried to explain what happened two of them grabbed her and threw her against a wall, cuffing her hands behind her back and shouting her rights at her. As the other two stood and watched, just in case she resisted, the first two cops gripped each of her forearms. The blond one on the right sneering at her. "You're in a lot of s**t girly. You'll be locked up in jail for quite a long time for this one."
As they stuffed her in the backseat of the cop car Idra made up her mind, she would get rid of her identity. From this point on she would be known as.........Nerissa, yea that sounded like a nice name. And of course she needed a last name to sever the last ties she had with that man. What was his bosses last name again? Riek? Yes Riek, from now on she would be known as Nerissa Riek. And Nerissa Riek didn't take s**t from any man.
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Posted: Wed Dec 09, 2009 9:38 pm
Username: 13TheBlackCat
Desired Scent: Jungle Fever
Desired Name: Asona [from the word Ason ~ the "magic" rattle of voodoo priests]
Prompt Response: It was never more then a curiosity. What did it feel like to kill another human? Asona had considered the idea before but never explored it... until now.
A bruise still on her arm that throbbed from the other day when he'd yanked her from the car like a sack of potatoes and dragged her to the trunk ordering her like a wench to bring in the grocery. He'd met a stock girl that had been a bit slow in understanding his inquiries about thing from his grocery list. Then the cashier hadn't bagged the items in a certain way he's requested.
So, he thought he was practicing at being more "direct" by man-handling her as such. But why did he think he had to prove it to himself at her expense? She had to try twice to break her arm from his grasp. "You're hurting me!" He'd squeezed her so hard and the effort in escaping him left her arm discolored and sore. She'd covered it right away, not even glancing at it herself. He didn't need to see if he'd damaged her or not. He didn't need the satisfaction. It hurt badly though.
. . .
Today, he'd seemed tame. The only fowl thing he'd done was scream at her to get in the kitchen and make supper. She had gotten home from studying at the library a bit later then usual. Observing the clock, Asona was sure he would loose his temper if he noticed his dinner wouldn't be served at 5:30 sharp as he so obsessively preferred. It was 5:20 now.
She was arranging carrots to chop and add to the pot of stew on the stove. In her hand was a butcher knife. She had used it to slice and dice the beef in the stew, then washed it and began on the carrots to not have to dirty another knife. As she began to chop, her ears picked out the sudden thump and stomping of her father's footsteps from the next room.
He had noticed... it was now 5:45, and he wasn't eating.
Before he was even to the doorway, he was screaming. Asona ignored him. He was calling her fowl things. She didn't want to listen and just kept working. He call her a loose whore for staying out late and probably fooling around with some boy. He called her completely unreliable for not having dinner ready on time. He called her a useless c**t just because he hated women.
They were things he had said before. He was truly awful. She thought of the other day at the grocery store. Asona's hurt arm pulsed thinking of how he'd treated her. It was wrong. And the girls at the grocery. Sure one hadn't understood him and the other made a mistake. But did that merit such fowl things to be said of them; such grotesque emotions to be aimed at them... and herself?
Who was this man really? Her father? No. A father didn't treat people like this. A father didn't beat their daughter. This was a terrible man. No not a man, a monster. An Animal.
Asona heard his footsteps begin to approach her. He was surely going to hit her for not listening to his preaching. She didn't want to be hit again. Asona didn't want him to hit anyone again. It had to stop. She knew she couldn't just wish it. He was coming now, ready to further maim her soul. It had to be permanent, but how?
Her grip flexed on the knife, and the thought occurred to her. If he was dead, he couldn't hit her. If daddy was dead, she couldn't be tortured anymore. She would be free.
Asona turned to face him. Her father had just come upon her and raised his hand, his face twisted in some fowl, selfish fury. She put her other hand over her first holding the knife and rammed the sharp tip into his chest.
He stammered, then fell silent. Asona watched as his expression snapped into surprise and stayed there. Then, she suddenly realized it had been easy. Asona still held the knife inside his body and saw his clothes stain around the metal blade and it quickly began to grow down shirt. She had done it. She killed a man. The man was her father. She slowly pulled the knife free and more blood spewed out. The knife had cut the vein leading to his heart.
As she let the knife drop to her side, her father stumbled towards the phone on the wall gripped with fear. He thought he could call an ambulance to come and save him from what she'd done. He'd only dialed the emergency number before he grew faint and collapsed.
Asona felt weak in the knees. She was afraid of the feeling. It had felt good to kill him. She felt powerful. Her father couldn't hurt her anymore. But then, she thought of how it felt again. It had been so easy to punch the knife into him. His flesh was thin, and the body was made of mostly water. It was so soft. Asona realized her body was too. She felt she had to protect it. She couldn't let any man treat her like that again. She couldn't let them even touch her. They wouldn't! No man would disrespect her like that.
"That's what you deserve." She pointed the knife at her dying father across the room. It was the last thing he heard before his final sigh.
Asona felt she could breath more easily that he'd finally died. His eyes were still open, but they could no longer stare at her. Walking to him, she put a hand on his face and closed his eyes. Even if he had been a monster that she'd killed, he was still her father and deserved that little respect; only because she didn't think anyone else worthy of the task.
A knock on the door, "This is the police." It was the voice of a sharp toned female officer.
Of coarse... it was an incomplete call her father had made. The police were called out to investigate. Either she could wait there and let them break the door down, or she could answer it. In the end, they would find her father dead. Asona saw no reason to hide that she had done it. She felt proud to have done it too. She walked calmly to the door and opened it for the officers.
The female asked her if everything was alright; "I killed him." It was the first thing she said. Then she waved for the officer and her male partner to follow her to the kitchen. They entered the room and the worried officers suddenly turned to panic when they saw the dead father.
"I killed him."
The male cop jumped at her. Asona shrieked and banged her fists on his arms as he pushed her against the counter babbling something about her rights and a court of law. He was touching her! Before she was back to her senses, he'd cuffed her and grabbed her arm over the bruise. Asona shrieked again as he squeezed hard on the tender place and dragged her outside. She started to wail, "Let me go! You're hurting me! Let go!" He didn't. Even his partner was telling him to let her walk. She wasn't released until he all but threw her into the back of the cruiser.
Asona hated him too. He was a pea-brained, brute force believer kind of cop. He was a man. She hated him. She growled her contempt and her face remained deep red with rage at him. The whole way, his partner reprimanded him for the extreme reaction and the excess force. Asona kept thinking to herself, "Let me talk to him for you. I'll teach him a lesson." She was imagining putting him in a small cage where he would have to stand to fit, and she would punch him with a baseball bat through the bars.
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Posted: Thu Dec 10, 2009 1:26 am
Username: hostel_en_frunk Desired Scent: P.S. I Love You Desired Name: Ytania (pronounced “Itania”) Prompt Response: Another day. Another fight. To the small girl, the shouting and smashing of small expensive things seemed to shake the entire foundation of the house. Or perhaps it was her head that was shaking, but she couldn’t quite tell anymore. Ytania had locked herself in her room, sitting with her back pressed up against the door and her arms wrapped tight around her knees. Every bump, every crash, every shout sent her tiny heart racing, knees trembling worse and worse, more tears streaming down her face. She couldn’t quite make out what her parents were shouting about, but she knew, like every other time, that something she or her father had said had set her mother off. The tension in the house, when the two adults weren’t fighting, was so thick you could almost reach out and touch it. Every word and every glance would set Ytania’s heart racing with fear. Would it be now that her mother would start? Would it be now that she would snap? The fights started slow sometimes. A snappy, biting comment from her mother over something simple her father had said or done. A defensive or tired reply from her father, and a quick exchange between the both of them, which rapidly escalated to screaming, crying, or even throwing things. The severity of the fights varied for one reason or another; intoxication, exhaustion, frustration…but they were never any less heartbreaking for Ytania. As she sat, pressed against her bedroom door, sobbing, she felt familiar and unpleasant thoughts rushing back to her. There was the sickening wish that her mother would leave forever, something that had taken months for the girl to come to terms with. It simply was not in her nature to feel so much anger and hatred towards someone, especially not one of the people who had raised her; but above all else, she could only pray that the woman would leave her and her father alone. She wanted nothing more then to be left in peace, to live with her gentle and kindhearted father. The sick, tight feeling in her chest and stomach pushed her further and further. Horrible thoughts squeezed in through the cracks in her heart, and with every fight her nerves were pulled tighter and tighter, until she felt that they would snap apart inside of her. Her mind chanted phrases over and over. ‘Help me’, ‘save me’, ‘leave me alone’ to name a few, muddled together with the occasional plea to a higher power, and sometimes, the wish to die. This particular fight went on for longer then Ytania cared to keep track of. After what seemed like hours, she ran out of tears and her exhaustion overwhelmed the need to beg for help. Her knees still hugged to her chest, she slumped sideways and lay down in front of her door. Weak, dry sobs still shook her tiny form, though the aching tiredness gradually took over her, and she could no longer fight with the need to sleep. Her eyes slid closed, and she drifted into uncomfortable and swirling nightmares. Unbeknownst to her, the fight downstairs had finally come to a close, with both adults storming off to opposite ends of the house, probably in tears. Too consumed with their personal battle, neither parent came up to check on Ytania, and she slept through the night laying on the cold, hard floor, trembling terribly in restless sleep. -
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