[Im]Perfection {Closed}

/ By MakiOnyx [+Watch]

Replies: 94 / 4 years 357 days 18 hours 47 minutes 26 seconds

Allowed Users

  1. [Allowed] Aila
  2. [Allowed] Osiris
  3. [Allowed] HatefulSanity
  4. [Allowed] ZebbyCookie
  5. [Allowed] boxghost
  6. [Allowed] iPride
  7. [Allowed] ATEmbers

[center Perfection.]

[center It is something expected in all, something demanded in some. The idealism that perfection means happiness, that it creates balance and harmony are lies. Perfection is the end of us all, the replacement if you will. Perfection means the loss of unique individualism. Perfection creates a cruel façade in which those who have compromised, those who have conformed have changed to the ideal of perfection, have placed the mask of flawlessness upon their brow and forgotten that their own perfection can lead them to be imperfect, their negative traits now redeemed due to the continuation throughout the world.]

[center In this world, cold perfection is demanded, expected, and unchallenged. There are no visible flaws, no mental flaws, no in-between flaws. No, for generations those feelings that would accept flaws, those feelings that would find redeeming qualities are gone. Bred or beaten from generation to generation until all that is left is the cruel perfection, the demanded obedience to hierarchy, the acknowledgement of the survival of the fittest. There are no kind words in this world, no kind souls.]

[center Kindness is weakness, and weakness is imperfection.]

[center But we are all only human. We cannot all stay within our mask of perfection. At some point we must all face the trials that may change us for the better, but promise a life for the worst.]

[center Will you choose to change when the right kind of reason comes along, or will you hold tight to your mask of excellence and ignore the reality of your own imperfection?]

[center Things to know about this world:]

[center This is a futuristic role-play, however not in space. There may be hover cars and things like that upon the planet’s surface.]

[center Everything is white and black within this world of perfection. Monochrome is balance, color is chaos. From walls to buildings to clothing, color is neglected or dyed out, replaced with the monochrome of white and black.]

[center Cold and harsh behavior is accepted, as long ago it was noted that those who held power, those who were successful held no sorrow to walk upon the backs of others, to betray lovers and friends. For a successful society, the youth had to have that drive, the understanding that survival of the fittest meant survival of the greatest, and to be great you had to use and manipulate others better than they could use and manipulate you.]

[center Relationships are like business arrangements, parents arrange a relationship venture for their children based on the gain that comes from the coupling.]

[center Those who show weakness, who show imperfection are cast to the lowest life-level. They are rationed on food and water, they are stripped of their right to own property and are forbidden to breed. Those who fall below par of the society’s standards are cast to the outskirts of community and monitored. They can be bought and sold by their leave if they seek a better life, though they are branded for their choice and no longer viewed as even human.]

[center When applying for a character, you must pick a theme song below to base your character off of. I’m not saying literally as in make it that character, however you must listen to the song and watch the video to create the personality for your character and how they will move. I have selected the songs and split them gender-wise. Enjoy creatively using them as inspiration, you may see yourself looking and listening to the song and the previous character in new light.]

[center Male Character Theme Songs:]

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-NP-RsRGzVo]
[b Choice 1 Taken]

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ocm8QdNR_d8]
[b Choice 2 Taken]

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XkU23m6yX04]
[b Choice 3 Taken]

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xPLtD6N9WO0]
[b Choice 4 Taken]

[center Female Character Theme Songs:]

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-M6UYwaYRqw]
[b Choice 1 Taken]

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VyFVG4VfPmg]
[b Choice 2 Taken]

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yJGqxf86cZs]
[b Choice 3 Taken]

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fi8kYcl2Y38]
[b Choice 4 Taken]

[center Pictures need to be artistically unique, but also real photos. ]

[center Stick to ES rules and please try to post a minimum of four paragraphs. Check your grammar and spelling.]

[center When applying for the role-play, PM your character skeleton, a picture, and a link to a sample post.]

Skeleton -
Character Name:
Age: [i 18-28]
Theme Song:
Caste in Society: [i First Class, Second Class, or Common Class]
Picture: [i Link]


Username: MakiOnyx
Character Name: Markos Lykaios
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Theme Song: "Hellfire" [Choice 1]
Caste in Society: Second Class
Picture: [pic http://i.imgur.com/CkQ5F.png?1]

Username: Aila
Character Name: Bastion Delanc
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Theme Song: "I Stand Alone" [Choice 4]
Caste in Society: First Class
Picture: [pic http://i58.tinypic.com/28cf4ic.jpg]

Username: Osiris
Character Name: Zane Alexandris
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Theme Song: Be Prepared [Choice 3]
Caste in Society: First Class
Picture: [pic http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/03/c1/ba/03c1ba94f24cf427cfc4e029309e66b8.jpg]

Username: HatefulSanity
Character Name: Hadassah Kolikov
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Theme Song: Perfect Isn't Easy [choice 1]
Caste in Society: First Class
Picture: [pic http://i947.photobucket.com/albums/ad314/xXKxBXx/oie_TQybJlKcESL9_zps53e0287a.jpg]

Username: ZebbyCookie
Character Name: Amara Clint
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Theme Song: Mother Knows Best [Choice 4]
Caste in Society: First Class
Picture: [pic http://i1322.photobucket.com/albums/u579/dietdrpepper74/sensual_by_zieniu___sylwia_nowak_by_zieniu-d735k9j_zps304132c3.jpg]

Username: Boxghost
Character Name: Isadora Laffete
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Theme Song: My Lullaby [Choice 3]
Caste in Society:Common Class
Picture: [pic http://i60.tinypic.com/2n7kze0.jp]

Username: iPride
Character Name: Danny Jamison
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Theme Song: Poor Unfortunate Souls [Choice 2]
Caste in Society: Second Class
Picture: [pic http://i202.photobucket.com/albums/aa289/neopets4224/Roleplay%20Pics/sad.jpg]

Username: ATEmbers
Character Name: Eugene
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Theme Song: In the dark of the night [Choice 2]
Caste in Society: Common Class
Picture: [pic http://i.imgur.com/SFMlDE9.jpg]


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Roleplay Responses

Perfection. It is the way of the world in this city. People strive to fit into the black and white normality that is the city. Everyone is the same, and it is beautiful. The walls are white, the streets are black, it’s all very neutral. Even butterflies hardly dare enter into the city. No one here loves their colors, or their vibrancy. It does not do to want to stand out in Perfection. There are of course, those that do not wish to conform to the beauty of this perfect society. Those are cast out, made slaves or sent away. Let them appreciate their butterflies in a place far away where they can not corrupt those whose hearts are pure.

Hadassah Kolikov was the purest of pure. Born of some of the bluest blood in the city, she is the ideal of perfection. Pretty is all very well, but she had been flawless since birth. She was always taught to have a contempt for those lower than herself, and she has never felt sorry about doing so. They are blemishes on the otherwise porcelain skin of perfection. The only time she lowers herself to spend more than a moment around them is Sunday. The Lord’s Day her father called it.

Personally, Hadassah harbors no false love for church, but all the same she awoke every Sunday, as she had all her life, and got dressed to go kneel before a “higher being”. Her long dove gray dress skirted the floor and hid her milky white shoes. Her long black hair was done up to be kept out of her face and then hidden by a hat with a net veil matching the color of her dress. Her hands remained covered whenever she was around those of lower class, and she stepped out her door, bible in hand, making her way to the church.

The church was separated by class, naturally first class sat in the front, and Hadassah always sat in the first row. The sermon took ages, as it always seemed to for someone that could not abide having to sit in church anyway. When it was all said and done, she knelt - said her Hail Mary’s, and practically ran for the door. Of course, she didn’t actually run, she would never show a weakness around people. Showing weakness in Perfection was like a death sentence. Once someone thought they could use you to climb up the social ladder, they would stop at nothing to do so. Almost everyone in the first class knew that, they all had their names on lists of people to be taken out. That was how it worked, if you wanted to better yourself you did it by social climbing. Those born into privilege were the most hated by lower classes, people like Hadassah.

So be it, she could care less how the vermin of the world saw her, it was all about how her equals saw her, and to them she was perfection. They were all perfection. The first class was the only thing that made the city worth while. She lived on a street with houses all the same, beautiful marble mansions built for nobility. Though, she loved her own the best. In her front yard she kept a garden of beautiful white lilies and a fountain crafted by one the most masterful artists to ever grace the earth.

Inside her home the walls were white, the stairs were white, the floors were black and white checkered marble. Everything had it’s place, and everything was perfect. Before his death her father had seen to that, brutally whipping any of the servants that dared misplace something and thus taint his perfection. He once said to her:

[center " [i Hadassah, you understand why we must beat them, don’t you? So that they can remember their place beneath us in society. If the lower classes were allowed to mingle with us they would think they were our equals and the balance that makes Perfection perfect would teeter and eventually fall over. They will look at you with big sad eyes and if you are weak of heart you will want to believe that they are the victims. They aren’t. In truth the only real victims are us, the first class. Lesser classes seek to destroy us and for what? Being born superior to them? This is why you must always remember who you are, where you come from. Never question what I do again in my home, do you understand child?] "]

This particular lecture had come after he had smacked her for trying to defend one of her maids. She never made the mistake again, and from that day forward she took her fathers lesson to heart. He was right, they were the victims, and she never forgot it. Not even when she looked at the young maid whom her father had so brutally beaten. She didn’t want to think how he had it accomplished but he’d removed her tongue or had it removed so that she couldn’t ever complain again. That’s what had started the whole deal, she had been complaining to the other servants about how she was treated. Well, no mind the more faithful servants had turned her in and after her punishment that had been the end of it.

It was these lessons, and ones of it’s like that made Hadassah who she is. Now she thanked her father for his harsh lessons growing up, for now that he was dead she had to protect herself against a flood of gold digging cousins and other distant relatives that came knocking. People she hadn’t seen in years, some she didn’t know at all.

That was the way of things in Perfection. You live, breath, and die your class. If you fall or rise it is due to your own deeds and no one else's. The wise ones know that, the ones that survive know and follow the rules of society. The ones that don't, well…

Slowly Hadassah made her way to her library stacked to the high arched ceilings with books of all kinds. Most she had no desire to read, they had been her father’s, but whenever she was longing for his company and knew she would not find it she went into the library. It was perhaps, her only weakness in life. She had truly been devoted to her father, but the rest of the city, the rest of the world really, could piss off and die for all she cared.

None of them mattered to her, she was a young, beautiful, and rich heiress. Anything in life she could ever need, especially in Perfection was practically hers. Oh no, she didn’t need the world, the world needed her.
  Hadassah Kolikov / HatefulSanity / 4y 326d 5h 3m 42s
The day was hot, and the higher the sun rose the hotter it became. It made his eyes heavy but the devil couldn't sleep and one plagued by his past demons could never rest. As Eugene's eyelids grew heavy his made turned the suns heat into a burning heat of flames.

[Font "Kalinga" [center [i They laughed. The Green Little Rich Boy shouting thief in a prison of perfection. Thief he says. Crooks he screams. Slut you wail. They laugh until their faces are mouths and until their eyes cry out their cruel emotions. Then she came towards him, twisting her hand round in front of her face as she watched the light dance within the poisoned diamond.
[b "YOU WITCH!"] He snarled,
[b "Oh, a witch am I. Yes I suppose. You are simple enough to believe in witches aren't you Sheng."] She had ruined him.
The fire had destoryed all trace of his existences and once completely stripped of everything he was no more then a rumour. By far not important enough to be a memory no matter how interesting he had seemed. He had been foolish, claiming to love in this world. To devote himself to another fickle human. Oh but worse that there was no one more perfect then she. He had stepped on too many feet with that and the blasphemy he was spewing had to be punished.]]]

The burn on his face prickled with the heat of the memory. Eugene scratched at the small bit of exposed flesh beneath his standing collar, pulling the scabs until they opened and bled on his clothes. His master would not be pleased but he had to get rid of the scabs one by one. The way he should of gotten rid of her; his Delilah. Her death should have released the anger inside of his heart but it had not. He wanted back what she had stolen, what she had claimed as his most prized possession, a tainted diamond, it's unusual colour was nothing more then an imperfection which made it a rarity amoung them. Them... he had finally woken up to that fact. He wasn't a part of this place and he never wanted to be but he could not return home like this. A peasant that had been shamed. He had taken his shaming his ostiziastion and worse of all his new position as their servant.

Sheng had thought he knew what it meant to exist in a perfect world, money, charm, good looks and enough mystery that made people nervous to be around you. But they all wanted to be around him. To peck and poke, to cut out the heart of that mystery and find a way to get beneath him just to throw him off his high horse. That was the only thing he didn't understand about this world how men had become cannibals for success. They smiled and licked their lips of the evidence, all the while luring in their next victim with the sort of appeal that, since the dawn of time, made a man fall from grace. Sheng had known nothing but Eugene believed he was smarter.

With a new name a face too heavily scared to ever be called handsome it was like Sheng had indeed died within the fire set to his stately home. As far as most was concerned including his own father he had died. The bell tolled and Eugene pushed off from the wall, standing straight with the parasole opened ready to greet his master at the church door. The first he saw was the maid who mimed something and if she hadn't he would have surely been punished for not replacing the half mask onto his face before approaching his master with a bow and a disinterested question about the sermon.
  ǝuǝƃnƎ / ATEmbers / 4y 335d 2h 22m 3s
Danny Jamison was second class but had always dreamed and thought of herself as something more. Her parents had always warned her to be mindful of her place in the class system but her rebellious side came forth and she had placed herself in exactly in the place she wanted to be.

A second class girl as the fiancé of a first class man was unheard of. Granted, this gift would come with a price. She had made friends with the right people but she had to give up her family and her old life if that's what she really wanted.

As she stood up from the church pew she looked down at the large rock that rested on her finger and smiled. Did she love the guy? Who knew. But she would have a good life and that was all that mattered.

She turned to head for the exit, passing by the second class people that she had spent most of her life with but avoided eye contact as she walked out of the church. It was a nice day out so she insisted that she walk to the house, wanting to get some fresh air.

She too encountered the road block but what she was to encounter further on would be a surprise as well. She never encountered anyone else walking but when she saw the girl she stopped by her.

[b "Excuse me miss, I'm afraid I haven't seen you around."] She eyes the girl curiously, wondering what she was doing. Did she normally walk this way? Why hadn't she ever really seen her around? So many questions were popping up and she had no answers.

She lived in one of the beautiful homes here and hopefully once the wedding came they would have one of their own. Her dreams really were coming true. She was forming her place in the world.
  Danny Jamison / iPride / 4y 335d 19h 54m 31s
[i ]

[i "I never thought the Commoners were worth notice or even essential. They were so crude and excruciatingly plain creatures, yet running solely on their base desires, siphoning life's gifts and polluting the world with their drowning emotions."] Thoughts were swirling behind a set of deep emerald eyes, masked over with a vacant if not cold glare off into space, [i "Yet maybe they have small points of potential, if they are able to be controlled by someone who knows what is best for them."]

There was the drone he was so familiar with in the background. The board meeting of his father's business revenue and his tax forms for the justice systems, for reasons he did not care to understand Zane's father insisted all of his children attend them. All three of them. Zane Alexandris was the second child, the middle, his elder sibling being three years older and the younger being two. Which did not explain as to why Zane had to attend.

In all families, no matter their stations, the middle child rarely got anything. At best, they were forgotten; at worst, neglected. They were not the eldest, with all the responsibility of carrying on the family, nor were they the youngest and 'baby' who was too precious to do any wrong.

There was no point in voicing his boredom, such behavior would be frowned upon, that is why Zane kept his gaze empty, even as his brain was churning over thoughts of indentured servants to his cause. Zane had long stopped listening to the reports, other penalty sentences, court hearings, other deaths and funerals. All wrapped up in the morning news that could go on for several minutes. It wasn't anything new. Finally Zane was allowed to leave and he took it, it was not that he disliked business or the aspect of being a judge on a panel, it was the fact that he was not blessed with endless time.

Despite all of his good genetics and smarts Zane was not going to be picked to take over the family name, nor have a seat in the court system. Zane had plans for his father's successors anyways, there was no way even in the darkest depths of Hell that he would be overlooked... Twice. The memory still made him grind his white teeth. Heading down to the monorail station he would set up some meetings, 'buy' or bargain to obtain some lackeys, Zane was not about to dirty his own hands when some other would do it for him.

Zane scanned the monorail, the train would be coming soon-it was a bullet train-monitored by the never-ending circuitry in the center of the government buildings. Police controlled the railways, buildings, employments, and other base parts of the city, people like Zane's father never took the trains but Zane was not getting on it, he was waiting for some people to get off. There was no way Zane would be caught dead in the lower parts of town so all of his 'associates' had to come to him.

There was a package under his arm, to which when the train arrived he passed it over to some seedy looking characters and they talked in hushed tones even with the crowded station platform around them drowning out most words. They argued. Angry hand gestures towards the city and then to the package. Finally the three dark souls accepted an arrangement, shook hands with the judge's son and left back on the train towards the back compartment.

By the time Zane got back away from the station the morning's mass was concluded, the large bells chiming high in the air. Zane was not religious, did not care for those who were; those who would put their lives, their own fates, in the hands of invisible-or ignorant-deity that ignored their cries was full of weakness. There was nothing to save you but yourself, Zane caught up with a few church-goers and shouldered through them. He had plans to continue...

[center [b ~*~*~]]
[#9e000a "This way, hurry up."] Zane was ushering his brothers away from the house, the youngest was stuck with a whiny voice and a worried look plastered onto his boyish face whilst the eldest just pressed on, half-eager to see what Zane had come up with.
Zane had found something of interest near the border, leading his siblings with an earnest expression and a vague tongue.

"Where are you taking us, I have many studies to undertake."

[#9e000a "It's good, don't worry; well worth your time."]

"-Father would not approve."

[#9e000a "What would father say? We could be heroes. It's just a bit further, we aren't leaving the city-just right near the border to the lowlands."]

"There is nothing there, the patrol takes care of it." Yet neither of the brothers attempted to turn back, curiosity kills.

[#9e000a "Now, here's where we have to split. Thomas, since you're the eldest I thought you should have the first chance to claim it for our father. Leon, you'll have to swing to the left and climb through the gap I've made."]

"You aren't coming with us?"

[#9e000a "Yes, I am. The way is too small to wedge all of us, I have to go up and climb down, it's too dangerous to force us all in."] Zane ushered Leon towards the gap in the bordered wall and Thomas began to cross through a broken fence. A little further and Zane could enact his plan, the glowing lights of the patrol swept overhead on top of the wall, their black and white suits were like shadows against the bright skies. It was dark beyond the wall and no one went there voluntarily, pressing his ear to the wall Zane concentrated and heard the scuffles and muffled cries beyond.

Then he ran to get his father.

[#9e000a "There, father! They went in there!"] An aged man dressed in black demanded the gates be opened after the frantic cries for help came from Zane. [#9e000a "They were fighting, and I ran for you as soon as I saw Thomas take the first hit... He should be-"] As they cleared the gate and went to the spot where Thomas fell Leon had came from the gap only a few minutes earlier. Leon was kneeling over his dead brother with the blood of the elder on his body and inspecting the knife that dealt the blow. Zane and his father halted as Leon stood up with the knife in hand, not yet seeing the two before their father let out a strangled cry. Something like a guttural scream of anguish, muffled by pure will.

[b "Leon! What have you done?!"]

[#9e000a "I was too late. Leon, you killed him!"]

"What? No! I found him, father, this wasn't-" Leon took steps forward and Zane threw himself in front of the old man.

[#9e000a "Stay back, murderer! GUARDS! Murder! How could you do this? You were the favorite, Leon, why?!"]

[center [b ~*~*~]]
There wasn't much of a trial, and the funeral would be set in a few days. Leon was found guilty for the murder of his brother, but their father's leverage demanded that death be spared, instead Leon was to be exiled and stripped of rank, tossed outside the city to wander aimlessly the world. Zane's father was inconsolable, wouldn't even look at Leon, he lost the heir to his empire to death and his favorite son to exile. Zane's plan worked perfectly, he knew he would never be able to take on Thomas himself, the older brother was too strong so he had to hire some people to do it for him. Then there was Leon, the favorite, even if Thomas was out of the picture that would just mean Zane was overlooked for a more favorable option, so he had to craft a scheme to allow them both to be taken.

Two deaths would have been coincidental and bad for the imagery, framing Leon for the murder was the best route. Leon knew his innocence but the evidence showed otherwise, and he knew there was no overturning the verdict. Zane's father would go into seclusion and grieve his broken heart, before he too would meet Thomas again. The puzzle was piecing together nicely, and even Zane had to admit, he excelled at the game of deception.

In the end, all that was left, was the Game.
  Zane Alexandris / Osiris / 4y 341d 17h 23m 47s
[i "The world is a festering sore, my child... Always remember this. This is why you must not go outside. You must not interact with those horrible reached people, lest they tear you apart! You are much too fair. Much too sweet. Much too pure. They will find you, they will harm you! They will strip you of your status and have you thrown to the muck with the classless simply because you adore butterflies. Simply because you adore ANYTHING at all. Perfection is not for you, child. Your place is here and that is final. Mother knows best."]

The words of Amara's mother almost were lost on her ears. Pointless warnings and heedings to a girl who only longed to experience the world and all those people in it. To feel like she was wasn't the only human alive as she normally did while her mother did her best to "protect" her from the world by keeping her hidden away. Locked up for her protection. For her own good. For her benefit. What was the benefit of being hidden away for all of your life and never allowed to find who you are?

But today it was Sunday. Sweet, beautiful, glorious Sunday.

On Sundays Amara's mother would turn the key. She would allow the girl to leave the home under many, many conditions. She was to only attend church service and nothing more. She was to not doddle or stray from the paths, nor was she allowed to talk to anyone outside of typical greetings of mass. The brunette relished the release and abides by all of her given rules if not just to feel the glory of God in her and the sun upon her face.

She wore a simple dress the color of freshly fallen snow. Its hue accented her skin to a T and her tan shoulders hung out over the top as the bodice drooped delicately down over her body, straight to her knees. Her fingers moved over a leather belt as she tightened it around her thin waist, it drawing the garment up just right and accentuating her pristine hourglass figure as well as her long thin legs that stuck out of the bottom of the dress and stretched to the floor.

Simple white high heeled shoes. Pearls that were her mothers but that she was allowed to wear on Sundays. Hair long, brown, and with a gentle wave down her back and shoulders. A perfectly made up face. A white shawl made of cotton and lace pulled over her shoulders. Going out was an event to her. Her one day of freedom where she could venture out and live like a normal person if not for two simple hours.

[b "Goodbye mother."]
The woman came to embrace her daughter, pulling her close, protectively. [i "Goodbye my sweet girl. Enjoy your mass and remember..."]
[b "No speaking to others outside of the Church and be home as soon as the final bells toll. I know mother, just like every week."]
The woman kissed her forehead. [i "That's my girl. Your mother loves you very much."] She had a pained expression on her face as the brunette walked from the home and into the outside world. She loved her daughter and she was such a pure soul... Too pure for Perfection.

Outside. She was outside! She felt the warm air blowing her, rays of sunlight on her skin, in her hair as she shook it and offered a sweet and bright smile. She desperately longed to go run and hurl herself into fields of the beautiful wildflowers that grew outside of the town. How she wished to taste the sweet waters of the beautiful fresh lakes but she had been warned too heavily of their dangers. She must not, and she must keep her word to her mother always for she was the one person who would care for her.

Reaching the path she found herself walking in time with others of her own social class. The first class. Amara knew only of what her mother told her about class. Most in the first class, like she, were born there and remained there. Some however, did horrible and nasty things to get there and had to struggle their whole lives to stay there... and you could not tell one from the other so she must be wary of [i all] people at all times. You never know who was a classless in disguise.

Inside the church she sat in the front, body nestled on cushions as she listened to the beautiful words wrap around her. Gospel, stories of the world long, long ago. A world of brightness, of friendship, brotherhood. Worshiping those who did you right and those who would show compassion. She knew every word of course. She had begged her mother to buy her a bible years ago and it felt as if it was her perfect storybook. Like a fairy tale of what once was. Of what real life used to be and how she wished it could be once more.

As the mass concluded everyone shuffled out but some remained to pray or speak to others. She spent a few more simple moments in prayer before rising and brushing off her dress. Setting her course back towards home she left the church and as she was walking down the path she saw many men clearing a fallen tree in the middle of the road. It would be hours before they were finished moving the wood off of the path and they suggested she find another way to return home.

Secretly she feared her mother would grow angry or wary when she did not return home by the final bell of the church towers... but a simple explanation after a slightly longer walk home would have to do. Another path chosen and she was walking along the edges of beautiful homes, and as she was about to turn a corner she stopped. A beautiful patch of grass with bright white flowers caught all of her attention.

They were stunning, and at that moment she fell [i in love.]
  Amara Clint / ZebbyCookie / 4y 348d 17m 42s
[google-font http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Roboto:300]

[Roboto [Center [b {OOC: Role-play is open to posts. Please post introductions when ready.}]]]

[Roboto The world has changed over the years according to textbooks and old musty people who nose their way into everything. What had once been a stretch of civilization, of various economy, language, religion, and even power figure heads had collapsed with the world economy. Debts, built up for years from country to country. Backstabbing politicians keeping hold of what power they could get to the very end while religious leaders turned on their baaing sheep, taking them for every dime whenever the chance arose.

In the end, when the dust settled and the weak had fallen prey to the strong, those who still held power gathered and built their own version of Utopia. The city entitled “Perfection”. There was only true understanding in Perfection; the strong will always devour the weak.

Surviving in Perfection meant backstabbing, ladder climbing, and backhanded compliments. It meant selling out whoever for the right price to live a better existence, no one wanted to be the bottom – Well, that wasn’t necessarily true. No one wanted to be on the bottom if they had a bloody brain cell, because to be on the bottom was to be Class-less, to be homeless, to be less than human in the eyes of others; which in the new world order was already hard to be to most. In this world, feelings like love, like caring, like kindness were a promise for loss of status, a guarantee for the scavengers to swoop in and pick apart what was left after the predators finished the feast.

No one ever complained about the treatment, no one ever mentioned the affairs married couples had, illegitimate offspring, or money swindling. It was everyday life, it was normal, and everyone tried to get a piece of it when they could without a second thought on who they were leaving in the crossfire. Oh some had reasons for their actions other than survival of the fittest; revenge, greed, vanity, and envy just to name a few. However it always came down to taking power when one saw the opportunity.

The wolf currently sitting with the sheep had been the same as any, truly, though his beginning was a bit different from theirs, his life story a bit harsher. Growing up until the age of twelve as a commoner then coming to find out he had been the child of a First Class’s mistress had really changed the way he had viewed the world, starting with how he viewed the man who he had been calling father. The first man he had sold out for gain but not the last, no never the last. Where there were people there was profit, and he had a goal to reach that he deserved to have. He would claw his way up and rip it from his biological father’s dying hands right before he pushed the man into the outskirts of the city.

Did he care about whatever siblings he might have? Did he care about his mother who lived in a shabby common class house near the outskirts where people who had nothing pillaged when the monitoring was down? Nope, not at all. She was beneath him, just the vessel that brought him into this world for him to concur. She was useless to him. He had clawed his way to Second Class, had sold out Common Class left and right, had taken bribes and turned on the givers when it suited him to reach the Second Class wealth line and he was going to go to the top. No one would get in his way, no one would take what damn well belonged to him or he would see it all burn down to the ground around them.

People began to stand, their faces masked in fake smiles, their eyes holding false warmth for those they laughed with and spoke to. It really was amazing that when all is said and done, religion still manages to creep to life. Of course only the religions who managed to pull enough and have long pre-existing footholds managed to make it in this new world. It was a joke really, however, a joke because Sunday’s had become the only day where you had to pretend to be nice to your neighbor. The nicer you were to them on Sunday, the more you tore them to hell and back the following Monday morning.

However the pointless social event did hold merit for finding connections, building backstabbing alliances, and gaining financial profit through the business transaction of whoring out one’s own children to another’s own child. Everything allotted a price tag, even marriage. Not that the wolf was among the sheep for that. No, he shuddered at the thought of ever having to partake in a long lasting relationship of the opposite sex. Unclean vermin just like the woman who bore him. His entire life was her bloody fault from before he was even conceived thanks to her idiotic mind.

Standing, he could feel his limbs cry out for joy, having been trapped in that sitting position for an hour on a very uncomfortable back pew. For second class, the church was still being a bit too cheap on the bloody furniture if anyone asked him. Those ahead of second class, those in the front on cushions provided to them probably weren’t sporting the sore ass and stiff back he had, though it was better than common class who had to stand the entire time in the very back.

As blood-flow returned to his limbs, Markos made his way out of the church and into the parking lot, stopping to pull the black stone case from his left front pocket, slipping a hand-rolled cigarette between his lips and flaring his zippo into action. As the familiar mix of warm vanilla flavored tobacco smoke laced with some form of muscle relaxer filled his lungs, he felt his eyelids flutter shut. One of his simplest pleasures in life, though also one of the more expensive ones, and he had missed having one the entire time he sat there listening to a Priest lie through his teeth.

The wheezed grunt caught his attention first, then the claw-like fingers of an old woman found themselves wrapped around his upper bicep caused his eyes to open and narrow on the wrinkly face of a no doubt nosy old hag. From the looks of her, she wasn’t important enough to fake any form of kindness too, not that he would, even on a bloody Sunday.

[b “Old crone, do I look like your dotting grandson waiting for you to supply more money into my trust fund and more of your assets into my name on your bloody will? I mean you can if you like, but take your cold ass hand off my arm before I break it.”]

Before the wheezing old woman could reply, he took another puff and blew the smoke right into her face causing her to let him go as she began to cough and clutch at her chest. [b “Ah, have a heartattack and die will you? You’re starting to get on my nerves you old bat,”] Markos grumbled before shoving the lady out of his way and heading towards his car. He had things to do, revenge to take, and a life to make better; he didn’t have time to chat up someone’s dear old granny who no doubt fucked shit up back in the day for someone.

Smirking, he lit up a new cigarette even though he could feel the effects of the previous one just starting to take hold. He’d run over anyone who got in his way to have what he wanted, and what he wanted was First Class status and his old man’s life.]
  Markos Lykaios / MakiOnyx / 4y 349d 20h 46m 1s

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