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Welcome welcome. We're hoping that you're going to be a nice breath of fresh air.
While we're not super active we're all super friendly. If you have any questions just kick us once or twice.

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Ignore the post of not accepting any new RP's. But I will accept an RP with someone if they write as Vaas from Far Cry 3. Seriously. Nothing would make me happier. If you're willing to discuss a plot. PM ME. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PLEASE PM ME!

When he spoke, she twitched her face as if his voice was loud, screaming almost and she reached her hands out slightly, nearly falling as she heard him speak her name again, louder this time and she tensed up and contorted her face more before her eyes fluttered and she felt that heavy coat lay over her shoulders and she leaned heavily against him, almost completely. His voice was low, the way he spoke sounded underwater, loud and hurt, but she managed to slurr out an incoherent "Two...maybe three hits, maybe more...can't remember" before her legs gave way and she was hoisted into his grip. Her head fell back against his shoulder and then lolled back, eyes closing as she felt her entire body numbly spin within her mind.

After a few steps from the graveyard, another groan came from her lips and her eyes floated back into her skull, her grip that had been on the coat loosened and fell to her stomach. The spinning was only getting worse, her eyes fluttered and finally opened again, pupils completely expanding across her iris, causing two inky black holes to glow at him. She managed once again to mumble out a barely understandable, "Graverobber, I'm cold..." before falling silent and her eyes rolling back again. There was a voice not far from the gate, a Genecop speaking to another about the possibility of hearing someone close to the gate. She clung to the coat again, the agony in her chest having fallen to nothing more then a dull throb she could barely feel through the zydrate numb.

[Fact:]

Fact: Altair is so irritated she could scream and cry at the same time at this point
Fact: Altair feels sick and hopes its just allergies
Fact: Altair is so sick of being stepped on
Fact: Altair is tired of writing things to appease others and never getting anything back
Fact: Altair just doesn't want to feel used anymore...

Hater's gonna hate. (:<

Old picture is old. But I needed to wear my beanie today so I thought of this old picture.
Went as Ville Valo to a halloween party. Everyone who didn't know me thought I was a dude. Success.

"Just steal some blue from evil red guy
and a screw from smelly dead guy
and you've made some crap from scratch."

Assassins Creed Brotherhood
Its my vote.
I win by default.

--I'm looking for a new job. I'm tired of feeling like a complete failure by everyone when I make a mistake, and being ignored when I do something good. I'm dreading going to work daily because I feel like everyone thinks I'm a fucking idiot.

--I'm depressed again. It hits me randomly, but when it does, I cry myself to sleep because no one cares. Who would?

--I have no idea where my mother is. Glad to know her boyfriend and her drug habit is more important then her kids. Always felt that way anyway. So I guess it was only due time.

--I'm alone.

[In The Shadows]

In The Shadows- The Rasmus {xxx}

She snorted when she heard the joke, "Yeah, like I haven't heard that joke a thousand times." she said sarcastically, hearing his name. Graverobber...The name in itself was simplistic yet casual. She nodded just slightly. "You're right, I'm not, but I've learned form the best, I don't need help." she said for the thousandth time. When he mentioned Zydrate curing a broken heart she went quiet, looking at herk nees. Nothing could cure her broken heart, it didn't matter if it was drugs or not, but it could mask the pain through the numbness. She just shifted on the bed, sitting on it and watching him leave before he drifted off and left. She sat there in the quiet and her arms wrapped around her stomach. In the pale blue light she sat there, staring at the other shelves. She tucked up a little tighter,wrapping her arms around her knees slowly.

She wasn't sure what to do when he left, she wasn't quite as tired as she thought, she just wanted to be left alone, but now that she was, something made her feel uncomfortable. She shifted on the bed and decided the best thing to do she would do would be to numb herself again. Taking the zydrate gun out of her bag, she pressed the needle to her thigh and shot herself up, and when the ache began to fade, and when the ache started up again, she pressed the gun to her leg a second time, and then a third before she started to feel the tears burn her eyes. Throwing the Zydrate gun into the box she pulled herself from the bed and stumbled towards the edge. She crawled down, clinging to the shelf as she dropped down and rolled out from under the receiving bay door. Closing and locking it she wandered down the alleyway, moving towards the streets. Her arms around her middle.

It took her a while to find him, but as she walked quietly towards the fence that separated her from the robber drawing out Zydrate. She put her hand against the metal, ducking down to avoid the spotlight that washed past. She stood there, watching him and when he looked up to her. It was like she was high, and wasn't herself. Her voice came out faint, but it was there and she clung to her sides, having forgotten her coat. "I need your help..." she admitted through her thick drug high tone.

She took another inhale of the medicated air and coughed hard, snatching the knife back and stuffing it into the waistband of her jeans. "My name is Pandora. Or Pan. My lungs failed when I was a child and I had the replaced by GeneCo. My mother made the payments when my father walked out on us. When she died, my house was repossessed and I was sent out on the streets. The pain at first was bearable, but the more activity I was doing having to survive on the streets made it worse. Zydrate was the only thing to make the pain bearable, it was the only thing I could do to stay alive." she said as she sat down on one of the rungs of the ladder, putting her hands to chest as she coughed. "My mother didn't need help, I don't need help." she said flatly as she looked at him before rubbing her sternum.

"Your word is worth shit to me. I don't know you, I don't trust you." She said flatly and narrowed her eyes as she put her foot on the ladder after standing. She didn't want anything to do with him anymore, he was irritating her. And even though she said she didn't need help, part of her was comforted by the fact he was there. She'd been so alone lately. She stepped up the ladder quickly, reaching the top shelf and walking over to the mattress that was laying behind some boxes. She sat down on the bed, her form illuminated by blue lights as she plugged the LED lights in.

"I don't need anyone's help." she said quietly. She pulled her coat off, leaving her in just those black jeans and wife beater. She tossed it into the box behind her full of random articles of clothing. She crawled over the makeshift bed and leaned over another one of the boxes, digging around. She just hoped he'd leave.

[Wildcard:]

http://vocaroo.com/i/s08eA13tOxsy

Wildcard: If you won 500 dollars. What would you do with it?

She just made a hand movement of how much she really gave a shit in her hand. The fingers opening and closing like she was talking out of the hand. She honestly could care less what he had to say. He didn't know her, all he knew were the scalpel sluts, and she wasn't anything like them. She could take care of herself god damn it! She huffed lowly as the thought made her blood boil in anger. Why did she need a man telling her to keep an eye out, they had always been bad luck since the beginning so why would she start trusting the now? Of course she had no idea that he was actually right, that she needed to be careful, that she was constantly in danger. But that was just her right?

She emptied her pockets in the small bin beside the ladder as she came back down, the things she didn't thinks he would need, the zydrate gun, the empty vials, the small gas mask and the inhaler. She was only going a couple blocks over right? She'd be fine. She exhaled softly and when she bent down and eyed out the base of the door, she hadn't heard the boot steps of the male in the room. She had actually just forgotten about him in hopes that with that thought out of mind meant that he would be out of sight. She shifted a little and when she inhaled deeply she wasn't quite expecting the sudden stinging on her right cheek. She jumped, smacked the back of her head against the door and winced, gasping as she  put her hand to it and stood, feeling the rub on her ass.

Oh, she went to smack him, after yanking the switch blade out of her belt. "Bastard!" When he caught her wrist she pushed against it, trying to stab him in the neck or something and fought against the much larger male. He had age, not to mention strength over her, but she put up a damn good fight. For about five minutes she pushed and pulled and jerked and thrashed against his grip, trying to sink the knife into his neck, his jaw, his skull, his shoulder, anywhere to make sure he knew she wasn't going to deal with it. That was until the tightness in her chest began to slow her down and she breathed hard, the rasp starting faint but getting harder.

She jerked a little out of his grip and put her hand to her chest, wheezing deeply as she struggled to get a breath back. She tried to keep her calm but it didn't help and as she moved towards that bin she groped up at it, slightly hunched over to relieve the pressure on her lungs. Stupid bad lungs. Stupid problems. Stupid Graverobber. Stupid everything! She tilted it back to grab the inhaler buried under all the other items and stuffed the end of it between her dark pierced lips. She inhaled deeply and held it for a moment, exhaling while she glared at him.

Welcome dear, always looking for new members! If you have any questions just let us know!

She nearly poked his eye out when he said she was doing his job. She wanted to just sock him in the nose for saying what he did. She huffed loudly and wrinkled her nose. "I've been doing it for months, I know what I'm doing." She said sharply before he commented he'd help her get the cure, "I don't want your help and I'm not a kid!" she snapped, "I'm twenty three fucking years old, piss off." she said shortly, wrinkling her nose. She gave a disgusted look when he commented about her turning tricks, hell even getting the Zydrate for free. She just turned away from him. "You're a prick. I have no debts, as far as the Repo Men and GeneCo is concerned, I'm dead, so my debt is paid." She said shortly before turning on her heels. "Stay out of my way, business or not, I'm getting my own Zydrate." She snapped as she walked with a bit of a cocky strut down the alleyway. To be honest they weren't far from the building that she used for a home.

She stalked towards the building and looked over her shoulder before pulling the grate up after unlocking the pad lock with a careful pull. As she pulled it up she rolled under it before closing. She left the pad lock off the inside, she would head out again soon to find something to eat, as she slipped into the building she took the ladder hidden against the back wall and scaled up it easily, hopping up to sit on the edge of the mattress stacked on top. She plugged in the LED lights around it and pulled out her Zydrate case, putting the vial into the gun and pressing it against her thigh. She cringed a little, feeling the ache of it slipping into her skin and leaned back, a soft breath coming from her lips as bliss hit her.

The ache in her lungs faded and she curled her toes, biting her lower lip before her high dosage tolerance kicked in and she could feel the high start to fade, but the pain still stay subdued. She sat up and hopped off the racks, climbing down them easily and peered out the crack under the door, her backside sticking up in the air. The damp alleyway appeared to be empty.