merry christmas, white knuckles!

congratulations! you have been selected for admission to steelion university in the city of anonymia. if you choose to attend (which you will), you will then be joining a diverse group of spectacular dorks, pathetic geeks, and badass motherfuckers who will probably tear you apart if you look at them the wrong way. therefore, it is our great pleasure to congratulate you on the successes that have earned you this fine honour. we can't wait until you arrive! enjoy your stay. (please try not to get killed!)

[whiteknucklesrp-blog]

colorless king’s fox aura, mitsuru mushiki. 20. jang hyunseung. double major in strategic intelligence and magic and illusions, class b.

“who needs seven kings anyways?! AHAHAHAHA!” — colorless king.

no one knows what his face actually looks like or if his current body is his real body. all that’s know is that he has seven personalities.

one: quick and cunning like a fox, he values himself over anyone else. he actually thinks himself as being better than everyone else, and he’s determined to bring down anyone who catches him or gets in his way. he’s sadistic at nature and gloats about the things he’s done. however, to get close to the people he needs to, he can also be pretty secretive. he has a habit of constantly laughing and his face is almost always twisted in a maniacal expression.

two: serious and analytic, he usually take things way more serious than they should be. half the time, he’s judgmental about the other personalities, but he’ll make snooty remarks about other people too. he’s derived from a former genius, mitsuru once possessed and when this personality is in control it’s usually wearing a blank, judgmental face. he never smiles, though sometimes he’ll scowl.

three: the loud-mouthed and angry personality won’t hold back on cursing. his language is fowl and a glare is usually plastered to his face. he’s constantly yelling and was probably from possessing either a troubled kid or maybe a gangster, but honestly, “who the fuck cares?!”

four: this peppy personality is probably from a school girl he once possessed. he’s always cheerful and wearing a constant smile. actually, this personality is full of positive emotions and will never think about the negativity of things. usually the easiest to get along with, but like other six personalities, it usually goes away in an instant so there isn’t time to even attempt to befriend it. however, it is one of the more constant ones.

five: he honestly doesn’t know where this personality comes from, but when it takes over it’s usually very dramatic. normally his head will be bowed down as he fell to his knees, so you can’t really see his face. he’s quiet, but his voice usually carries out to be a louder declaration and normally after it says what it needs to say it goes away.

six: eyes watering up and defeat taking over completely, this personality is a crybaby. it’s completely the opposite of the peppy personality and only looks at the negativity of things. this is also a somewhat rare personality as well and will only really come out in dangerous or extreme situations.

seven: this personality is deceitful and he’ll act like the person he’s possessing. sometimes he’ll drop it immediately, but when his life is in the line, he’ll keep up the act till he sees an opening. which at that point, he’ll either possess someone else or launch some kind of attack.

even sometimes, he’ll lose control of the body he’s possessing and the other person will leak through. the stronger the person he’s controlling, the harder it is for him to control, but he usually doesn’t give up so easily.

[whiteknucklesrp-blog]

additional details!!

this site event won’t last so long, but it also doesn’t take much to participate either. although this event doesn’t necessarily conflict with any threads happening before it, you can tag all posts related to this event #winter basheither for your own reference or as an easy way to filter out regular and event opens.

the duration of this event is from december 26th to january 2nd (one week); that should be plenty of time for everyone to get in some shenanigans! get a character drunk, use this as a way to get two characters to talk, pull a prank, drown someone in the rooftop jacuzzi – the possibilities are almost endless!

as stated above, this also has a little mini-event inside of it: wk’s winter king and queen competition!

preliminary votes can be cast until 12:00 pm, saturday, december 29th! every character in wk is eligible for winter king or winter queen. votes will be tallied and the top three boys and top three girls chosen for king and queen will move to the final round. should the votes be very uneven and too spread out, the spots will be chosen randomly.

the final round starts at 8:00 pm december 29th and runs until 12:00 pm, tuesday, january 1st. the winners, of course, are expected to dance (i somehow doubt they really will), and should it be necessary, that thread can continue after the actual event has already ended with the appropro tag #winter court dance.

everyone is allowed to cast 1 vote per position (king and queen) per character they have who is actively participating in the event (aka, characters participating in threads concerning the event). so if, for the sake of example, i had bester, cesare and ryuu at the event, i could cast 1 vote for king and 1 for queen as each character (6 votes total)

please submit all votes to klyde’s inbox [x] also, please pile all votes from your characters into one ask, so it’s easier for me to keep track. just put your char’s name beside their respective votes.

if you have any further questions feel free to ask me, ray, by leaving something in any of my characters’ inboxes or by leaving me a message on skype! 

[whiteknucklesrp-blog]

now it's the moment you've all been waiting for! finally everyone's (mostly) done with their secret santa gifts and i'm excited to share them with you! c:

there's all sorts of beautiful things in here and i know all of you will love them and there's nothing in here that's more beuaitu in here. believe me. i'm like blinded by all the beauty in this blog you have no idea. ; w; 

anyways, merry christmas and i love you guys! <3

[whiteknucklesrp-blog]

REMINDER!

seven more days until your secret santa present is due!!

[whiteknucklesrp-blog]

chikusa’s hedgehog yoyo, ryota kakimoto. 18. jung joon young. double major in engineering and long-range weaponry, class a. minor in personality psychology. 

ryota kakimoto. proper noun.

a boy who is indifferent, apathetic, pessimistic. 

a boy who is quiet, disputable, deadly. 

a boy who is patient, intelligent, loyal. 

a boy who owes a girl his life, his devotion, and will always feel indebted to her, no matter what she tells him.

word origin and history.

former estraneo test subject. irrelevant. none of your business.

example sentences:

his eye catches the end of a straw, spitball launched in the throat of it, attached to the mouth of some nameless (not worthy of a name) delinquent. it’s aimed at her head. one, two, three milliseconds and ryota kakimoto is behind the student, the wire of his yoyo digging into the male’s neck, choking him, drawing his head back far enough so that their eyes can meet. “what are you doing?” ryota murmurs quietly, eyes dark and gleaming dangerously. the boy splutters something inaudible but ryota is already satisfied with the latter’s fear. he lets him go, wordlessly warning him never. never again. you will never touch her. not while i’m living and breathing.

[whiteknucklesrp-blog]

 jack's sword, bartholomew hanger sparrow. 23. vinnie woolston. double major in business and close-combat weaponry, class a. minor in marine science.

“me? i’m a dishonest man. and a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. honestly, it’s the honest ones you have to watch out for because you never know when they’ll do something incredibly … stupid.” — jack sparrow.

the first time he’s noticed, they mark him down by the jewelry he wears, from the earrings, the rings, the necklaces (it’s too much); the tattoos peeking through the dip in his white shirt, a macabre of a skull on his chest, dark eyeliner around sleep-deprived eyes. he swaggers in with a girl on each arm, a wide toothy smile splitting his face as he says, ” … is a hell of a long name, but it’s got a bloody good ring to it, eh? no, not hanged like the gallows. hanger like the sword, and you needn’t worry, love; i would never point the end of a sword at you.” and in a quiet mutter whilst pointing an idle finger to his chin, “i’ve never committed murder. yes, i have lied, cheated (in everything, with everything), stolen identity, stole in general, pilfered, plungered, possibly kidnapped -- but no murder, i don’t think - i’m half sure - maybe a little less than a half but! no one around to say otherwise, eh?” he flashes them a charming grin and cuts off the rest of his story there (he never goes into personal life anyway). he comes again the next day with two new girls, this time speaking of damsels — more so damsels in distress, how they should never be trusted, but i’ve got this great, big, unbecoming habit of realizing once the gal’s got a bloody cutlass to my neck. why would they do such a thing? i don't know. every so often, there are days he wears a red mark across his right cheek, seemingly unfazed by the smarting in his jaw. what a peculiar man. this man with his gasconading saunter, with his ridiculous amount of jewelry, talk of gold, silver, treasure, rum, women, the open sea — what was his name again? oh, yes. bartholomew hanger sparrow. (captain, he sometimes quips back. captain bartholomew hanger sparrow.)

[whiteknucklesrp-blog]

igor neuhaus’s hell hound. alexei frey. 22. cesar casier. double major in combat systems engineering and hand-to-hand combat, class b. minor in psychology. 

“in taking revenge, a man is but even with his enemy; but in passing it over, he is superior.” — francis bacon.

you spend your days running on all fours. no longer are you recognizable as human but a dog — more so a beast from hell. you look tathered and patchy and light colored flames that seem to flicker almost a shade of blue hint at your feet. it’s not hot to you, though. in fact, it’s a part of you and it actually feels like the most wonderful thing in the world as it passes you at incredible speeds. you don’t want to stop, but then you hear a voice calling your name and a small whine of irritation passes the back of your throat. you have to turn to go back to your home, not even knowing how far you ran but it must have been far enough because it takes you some time before it comes into view. the figure of your guardian stands in the doorway, arms crossed in irritation as you slow to a trott and turn into the form of a boy. you laugh at his scowl and nudge him as you head back in, catching his eyes rolling at you. it’s something you’re used to, but you care about him and you’d do anything for him no matter what the cost.

[whiteknucklesrp-blog]

ruby’s wolf spirit, liulfr roth. 19. anastasia krivosheeva. double major in business and hand-to-hand combat, class a. minor in geographic information science and cartography.

“i told her once i wasn’t good at anything. she told me survival is a talent.” ― susanna kaysen, girl, interrupted.

little red riding hood was a bore. little red riding hood was a whore. liulfr roth with her little red hood should’ve listened to her parents like a little girl should.

underneath crimson, glossy lips and skimpy jean shorts, high-cut shirts riding too far up, is a girl with all her confidence gone, corrupted innocence spluttering through the red in her veins into the whitest of cells. she’s already on thinning ice, the silver lines crackling like splinters underneath her own two, very unsteady feet. “is that what they say about me?” she asks when told about that neat little rhyme (clever, clever, but so very wrong); they’ve all been saying that she’s been sleeping with everyone, but the red on her lips is as red as her blood that has never made it onto bed sheets of any kind. boys come and go but her feelings are written in invisible ink, written on blank, blank pages — because monsters don’t deserve love — and she flirts with raw confidence so fictitious that fairy tales would unwrite themselves in shame. she’s come to hate the colour red because it sticks and it burns in her mind, the memories of all the hearts and throats she’s ripped out before control was even an option. she likes silver - maybe blue - like the water that will swallow her up as soon as the ice cracks more beneath her soft, ember paws. once, twice, she considers it, but every time, something tells her not to let the anchor fall. “walk past those widening cracks, darling. the ice is thin, but it’s not broken. just keep walking.”

[whiteknucklesrp-blog]

this is a surprise from brea to you all for being wonderful and i love you. i bring to you the 12 days of wk christmas. from dec 14 to dec 25, i'll be posting gfx for all the lovely chars randomly here in wk. so enjoy~ ♥

[whiteknucklesrp-blog]

ruby's cloak, saskia roth. 20. emilia clarke. double major in law and hand-to-hand combat, class b. minor in teaching.

“i don’t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds – but i think of you always in those intervals.” - salvador plascencia, the people of paper.

“You’re going to be a big sister, Saskia.” Her mother coo’s, one hand on her belly and one hand tucking Saskia in. She’s not very old, just a few months, yet her mother finds herself pregnant again. Saskia kicks her feet and gurgles from her cot.

-

“Saskia, you know you must always be there for your sister, don’t you?” Saskia nods, “I’m her big sister!” she says proudly. Their mother smiles.

When her sister falls down she is there to give her a hug. When her sister drops her ice cream she is there to give hers in replacement. She’s there when her sister is scared, to cheer her up, whenever she is needed, even though she’s not all that much older. It’s like she has a drive to protect her, and as she grows, the drive grows, so that she finds herself wanting to help and defend other people, as well as her sister.

-

The first time she discovers she can really protect a person is when she blocks a punch. She jumps into a fight she’s not supposed to be involved in. She tells herself she’s not scared of the fist full of fire heading towards her, and reaches out, eye’s closed, to grab hold of it. It’s supposed to burn, she thinks to herself,It’s supposed to hurt, I should be hurting. When she opens her eyes she sees the flames have stopped. When she lets go of the fist they start up again, it seems even the owner of the fire-y fist is surprised.

Warily, she reaches out again and grabs the person, the flames go out, but when she lets go, there they are again.

She’s like a cloak, stronger somehow during full moons. She doesn’t know much about it, at first, but she knows right away that this will help her, help others.

[whiteknucklesrp-blog]

but you better save all the convos you need to do on the dash (like put it in your drafts or something) because i'll be spamming the board soon (not yet). so unless you wanna scroll past 60+ posts. UP 2 U. <3

[whiteknucklesrp-blog]

tsukumo’s id bracelet. miwa yukari. 20. rina sakurai. double major in dance and hand-to-hand combat, class b. minor in theatre arts. 

“i couldn’t take my eyes off her,” - amour (1962).

just like a doll, you wouldn’t think she was real. she has a certain kind of beauty that is indescribably amazing and everyone just wants to get close to he; yet at the same time people are scared. miwa looks fragile with her long curly hair and large eyes that are framed by long eyelashes. attention is drawn to her everywhere she goes. even if she didn’t want the spotlight, it’ll be shining right on her and no one can look away. it makes you want to know more, but she remains mysterious. nothing’s known about her, besides the fact that she’s close to few people. something around those people makes her light up all the more. people may think of her as cold and aloof, but if you look closer she can be charming. she can be warm and even sociable. her face may not say it — that serious expression never wearing thin — if you look into her eyes, though, you can see who she is. you can see the sparkle of happiness, the breath of relief when her friends come out of a situation safe, sadness, anger, anything… they’re all in her eyes.

she really is unpredictable. for one thing, a cute girl like that, you’d expect her to be in magic or something. while she does know magic, she prefers hand-to-hand combat more. she’s quick and strong. actually, from what people have heard, she grew up learning acrobatics. add that to the strength she gets from her dancing and she really can be a force to be reckoned with. haha…

she’s skilled in so many ways and really, the amount of people that admire her is kind of overwhelming. it’s not just the guys, either. even girls say that they want to be like her sometimes. she doesn’t really do much to get their attention besides, well, existing. you’d never expect her to be outgoing and go to parties or things like that. if her friends go, she’ll go too. she actually seems to want to be sociable. people talk about going places such as the mall or even the cafe and she may be hesitant, but she’d ask to go too. heh… not many people have declined that ever. maybe she’s just shy and that’s why she remains stoic all the time. though, that hardly seems like the case when she’s around her actual friends. actually, with friends that when you can truly be yourself, so there’s no surprise there.

[whiteknucklesrp-blog]

anna’s marbles, ruby kushina. 17. tsubasa masuwaka. double major in psychology and magic and illusions. class a. “if there is a world at the end of the path you tread, i will keep up with you even through purgatory.” - anna kushina

“ruby, are you ready to meet everyone ? “ her gaze was directed ahead of her, and her face was in its usual expressionless state. she nodded, tightening her grip on her aunt’s hand. she wasn’t afraid of meeting new people. no, she felt somewhat anxious truthfully. something felt odd about this meeting though she’d tagged along with her aunt several other times before. ruby didn’t bother to voice her thoughts though, writing it off as mere childish worries. her aunt continued to smile, and pushed open the door to the bar for them.

a man behind the counter looked up and greeted ruby’s aunt cheerfully while another could only stare at the woman, though he seemed to know her as well. ruby kept quiet as they all spoke. even though she usually stayed silent though, this time was for another reason. ruby could only stare at the men in silent awe. ” is it .. ? ” she hadn’t meant to speak aloud, but it’d finally drawn everyone’s attention to her as they all inquired about her. ruby reached into her pocket to grasp the small red marbles for reassurance as she scanned the faces of the many individuals spread out before her. they should’ve been mere strangers, more faceless, colorless forms that would drift in and out of the monochrome sea. however, they each shined with their own aura —- a brilliant and comforting crimson glow that dared to stand out amongst the masses. these were the very same people she had seen in countless visions prior to this day. closing her eyes briefly, ruby recalled memories of eating together, laughing together, playing together, and so much more. before she could realize it, her body moved on its own. her hand fell from the grip of the older woman’s as she walked forward, stopping in front of one man in particular: the infamous red king. his gaze lowered to hers, yet while his eyes alone intimidated most, ruby couldn’t help but give a tiny smile.  “i want to stay with homura, with takehiko.”

[whiteknucklesrp-blog]

killian’s hook. devlin jones. 23. simon kotyk. double major in marine science/merchant marine officer and close-range weaponry, class b.

“a man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets.” — killian jones

the sound of swords clanging echoed from the allyway. the battle sounded almost two fierce and you want to look. no, you have to look. there were never this much action in this small seaport town. you can’t stop yourself from creeping over to a crate and hiding behind it. the sight of the two men sends chills up your spine. then, you recognize one instantly.

devlin jones.

e’s known for his womanizing, deceit and trickery, his thieving and cheating, but most of all, he’s known to be one of the most fearsome pirate captains in the land. just seeing that sword in his hand is enough to make you want to turn around and run, but you can’t tear your eyes away as he fights the dark, unrecognizable man who almost seems more skilled with the sword that you’re honestly surprised. you never thought that someone could match those skills. clearly you were mistaken as the sword is hit away from devlin’s hand.

you blink and a woman has appeared. suddenly, the tension level is higher and you can see emotions twist across the dark one’s features. there’s yelling and arguing and whatever deal was going on was forgotten as the dark one’s hand pushes through her chest and he rips out her heart. he squeezes it till it turns to dust. she dies instantly.

“NO!”

the young pirate’s enraged scream echoes the allyway and he  grabs a hook from the ground, hitting it into the stranger’s heart. however, he doesn’t die and devlin loses his hand in the process. the stranger takes his hand and walks away in a laughing fit. you get a close look at him and you can summarize the man down to one thing.

a crocodile.

—

it’s been months since that encounter and you see the captain again. his hand has been replaced with a fake one, but in his bag you see the silver sheen of the hook that he used against the stranger. you don’t ask what it’s for or why it’s there. he’s looking for the dark one, but more so he’s looking for…

revenge.

[whiteknucklesrp-blog]

rikako's handsaw. haruki oryo. 20. park jae hyun. double major in painting and close-combat weaponry, class b. minor in drawing.

"nothing's more beautiful than the color red painted upon a white canvas." -- haruki oryo.

the wind would blow outside, covering the windows in white frost as a child sat by a man in front of the fireplace. it was quiet except for the faint sound of brush strokes gliding across the canvas in a sea of red, peaches, blacks, and white. nothing was pleasant in the painting, but to the child's eyes they were. a scene of macabre unfolded in the child's eyes, unbeknownst to him that the scene was also displayed as reality in front of the busy part of town. the materials consisted of flowers, lace, and a human corpse.

then it all stopped.

prestigious schools and the art club took the boy's mind away from his now terminally ill father. those paintings would never come to life in front of the boy's eyes again and he was left alone with the same talent that his parent had. something beautiful like that can't go to waste and he knows he most carry on the legacy. it's a shame that no one is talented enough like this. then again, most people don't know true beauty the way the boy and his father does.

no one would ever picture the boy who stood sigh high in the clouds of admiration and diligence to cause harm to another person. no one knew why the president of the high school art club would get cuts on their arm either or how they ended up all broken and mangled on the school theatre's stage weeks later.

[whiteknucklesrp-blog]

takeshi’s cane di pioggia, jirou yamamoto. 19. sungyeol. double major in kinesiology and elemental combat, class a.

“don’t cry because it’s over. smile because it happened.” — dr. seuss. 

eighteen years, counted in days, sunsets, midnights, and cups of coffee, and they think he’s spent it all smiling and carefree. messy brown hair and a smile that brings its own sunshine — of course that’s what it would seem like at first, wouldn’t it? the world has seen its share of rainy days, and if jirou’s sunshine is in his smiles, on his lips and in his eyes, what could he possibly know about sadness, about tragedy … about life? they call his renown optimism naivety; he’s just an ignorant brat who’s just too goddamn fucking happy all the time. why? they ask. there’s nothing to smile about. do you see the world around you?  

they don’t see that when the sun shines on his back, he’s facing the shadows. he’s heard a smile can mask a wavering spirit, that anyone who has a continuous smile on his face conceals a toughness that is almost frightening. perhaps he is ignorant, a turn of the screw short too callow to realize the gravity of stormy situations. he still laughs in the face of danger — but not because he’s unafraid. his knees shake and his hands tremble as they take up his swords to fight alongside his friends. no, it’s because he believes that no one could possibly be purely evil. life may not be equated to simplicity, but maybe with a smile, he can show them that there’s more to it than just endless layers of anger and hatred.

“it only takes a split second to smile and forget, yet to someone that needed it, it can last a lifetime. we should all smile more often.”

[whiteknucklesrp-blog]

oliver's arrow, mikael queen. 25. dawid auguscik. double major in franchising and franchise operations and long-range weaponry, class a. minor in personality psychology.

"a king's riches cannot buy an extra year." -- an ancient chinese proverb.  

「Èchūlái de jiànshì; qióngchūlái de cōngmíng. 」

there is a fierce scolding; hand swatting the back of his head. he grimaces. holds his tongue. breathes until the sting stops stinging. for a long time, he refuses to move. “again,” is the gruff command. encouraging but weighted. what he really means is, “don’t mess it up this time, or the back of my hand will be the least of your worries.”

it’s day seven hundred and sixty three. more than two years in this god forsaken place, where company is slim and one’s thoughts are inescapable. apart from hunting, building, honing—surviving—there is not much to do. he looks down at his hands: the bow in them; the cuts, scars, burns, bumps; the layer of dirt that’s been accumulating since yesterday, thickening as the sun crawls past zenith, the sky turns colors, moon fades in, tide rolls out. he’s acutely aware of the forest. slowly, he’s learning to use all his senses. the stunningly loud cries, ever ascending, of the wild island birds fills the air. fat little pheasants dodge between the underbrush. his eyes strain to see them apart from the thick patches of fallen leaves and dead tree trunks.

“no bird. no dinner.”

“i get it,” is his irate response, nocking his arrow, drawing, aiming. he sticks his tongue out. pops it back in. he’ll only get his bottom jaw knocked roughly up into his top. he spreads his legs a little wider, follows a bird with eyes and arrow.

waits.

“not get easier longer you wait.”

shoots.

misses.

he swears, watching as the startled bird flaps it’s wings and hovers deeper into the brush. he drops his quiver and bow roughly. his stomach burns, sweat covering him from head to toe. for a moment he stumbles. he hasn’t eaten in almost five days. doesn’t think he could go another. survive, survive. survive.the word’s a vicious incentive. he’s a rabbit being led by a carrot on a stick. a dog chasing his own tail. the furious rush of his blood in his ears and his footsteps drown out the world. observes, almost from outside of himself, as the unnecessary things blur and bend.

hears his thoughts fade to black. watches the sound of his heart slamming against his chest.

–

he returns home; day one thousand seven hundred ninety-five. nothing is the same. everything about the multi-million dollar world of plastic lives seems so petty—so miniscule and insignificant. the brightness of the lights don’t seem so bright anymore. the fine build of a mercedes bens is lost on him. he wonders how he lived like this, content with knowing nothing more. forces himself to smile.

“welcome home, mikael,” they greet him, arms open but uninviting. “we’re so happy to have you back.” “take your time to readjust.” “when’s the last time you had a party?” “yikes, we’re gonna have to update your wardrobe. you’re still five years in the past.” “this is the iphone 5. i promise you, you will drunk text more than ever.”

he laughs. he wonders if his smile reaches his eyes. this is not his life anymore. not the cars, or the girls, the million dollar spending sprees or disorderly conduct arrests. his life survival – pain-pleasure-hunt-eat-sleep-run-walk-learn-stop-survive.

but in the same instant he realizes they wouldn’t understand. and their understanding is irrelevant.

「Out of hunger comes wisdom; out of poverty comes cleverness. 」