I don't know what I'm d o ing
Name: Flores
Pronouns: she/her/hers, they/them/theirs
Age: Too old,,,
Character you are looking to play: murdoc
How often are you available to rp: All day err day
Triggers: Excessive visual gore, graphic animal death, miscarriage/abortion
Writing Example inhales
Murdoc Faust Niccals was angry. His lead singer (and the rest of the band) was ripped away from him on their tour. Then this woman, white as absence, forceful, and small came up to him like he was a long lost friend. Didn’t she know who he was?
Oh. Apparently she did. He barely listened to her words.
“I know where 2D is. He’s looking for you, Mr. Niccals.”
His eyes roamed over her form, nodding absently for a moment before he looked up again. “Wot? 2D? Where is he? Did you take him? Who sent you?”
She held up a hand, but that didn’t stop him. His anger came back in a rush and he was sure she was sent by him, by someone to ruin his band. His words fell harsh and angry and he grabbed her shoulders.
Mismatched eyes glared down at her but she didn’t even look affected. She merely stared up at him with a deadpan. His fingernails dug into her shoulders as he tried to make himself look bigger, more intimidating.
“Take me to him, ya little numpty.”
The girl snapped her fingers and they were surrounded in a green energy. For a brief panicked moment, he thought she was going to kill him, end his existence right here. However, no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t get his fingers to listen to his head.
Was she an angel? Was 2D dead? Nonono. Was she going to take him to Heaven to see him? Surely not.
No. Not unless Heaven was a swanky hotel room with three kids and…2D. Finally, he was able to release the gothic angel and run over to his bandmate. The startled yell didn’t matter as he scooped his moneymaker (right, moneymaker, sure) into his arms and squeezed.
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Looks good to us! You’re in~
