Roleplay

@GaiaGoddess1

Ok let me get one thing straight

I’m not normal

Ok ok that’s something normal since no human is “normal”. We come in different shapes in sizes and tones and what not. But I’m not normal since....well it’s a long story. Let’s just say I’ve nearly died 9 times. Here are what they are if your curious
1. My birth
2. A heart attack I had an hour after number one
3. The fact my blood grows crystals but that’s still prevalent
4. My father nearly dropped me after my uncle scared him
5. My other uncle nearly crushing me by hugging me too hard
6.A raceist boy stabbing me with scissors
7. A man with a silver eye and a tommy gun shooting me
8. An unfortunate fall off of a skyscraper, I’m not telling the specific
9. And my entire existence

So yea. I’m unlucky. In fact because of all the bullcrap I’ve endured my dads given me the nicknames “lucky duck” which my aunt uses on a daily basis to anger me. And “featherweight” which nobody ever uses besides my uncle if I mess up badly

I have a lot of uncles

So I guess your done with my rambling. Theirs more to hear and more to see. This is Nancy .s, signing off

@shadowrwarrior

It put it in the most simply way as I can...life is hard.

And by life is hard I mean unforgiving and by unforgiving I mean totally f**ked up. Sure I know people had it harder or at least that is what my mother told me everytime when she would defend his father for beating her, that it wasn’t a big deal..life is hard.

I watched her beat her for majority of my life not able to do a thing about it, until I was older.

I think I was about 16 maybe 17 when I got tired of the screams and the cries and I pushed through their door and tackled my father.. what what I had to call a father. It was a rush of adrenaline and fear as my mother yelled at me to stop, to get off of the monster i called a father. I tried to stop but I couldn’t, I was p*ssed, angry at everyone..my mother for dealing with a b****** of a father, my father for obvious reasons, and myself..for not doing anything till that moment.

I didn’t stop till I didn’t feel movement under me anymore and even then I didn’t until I couldn’t lift my arms up anymore. It was then I realized what I did that day, I killed a monster..did that make me one...life is hard.

My mother didn’t hesitate to call police on me, still believing the monster below was in the right, I sat there till the police came that day over a corpse of a monster beneath me, but I couldn’t bring myself to care, not even as I was dragged away the last thing I saw before I was dragged out the door was my mother crying over the monster like it was something to be sad about. I couldn’t help but laugh at the sight the total stupidity of it. I sounded insane sure, but he wasn’t.

My mother was crazy it proved to be when my mother told the judge that I was in the wrong, sealing my fate, that I attacked her and the monster. THAT I HURT HER! I did it for her! And she does this, i couldn’t help but laugh at the stupidity of it all...life is hard.

I stayed in prison for a long time got out on good behavior, my mother had a restraining order out against me, I couldn’t help but laugh at the notice a judge gave me, I also remember the paper getting little wet droplets spots on it as I looked down. A smile on my face as I tried to control the water from falling....life is so very hard.

I lived on the streets for a long time before I landed a job, as a mechanic for a crap hole of a shop. I got a little shed of a trailer if I could call it that..but it was all I had, and a dingy couch..nothing else.

Then the world decided to throw a curve ball at me, life is hard.

@GaiaGoddess it’s ok, it’s still really good though

@shadowrwarrior

Okay so I’m sorry again, I reread it and it seems to fit still so I’m going to keep it!

((I’m so sorry I pretty sure I have you whip lash on that))

@GaiaGoddess it’s fine, I understand

I am soooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO sorry!
I am horrible
@shadowrwarrior

@GaiaGoddess1

Btw I’m subscribed

(Somewhere in New York, at a mechanics shop)

A man walks up to the counter. Skin grey as the buildings and sky of the city. He wore a grey coat with yellow cuffs that seemed to twinkle in the scattered light of the factory, his eyes were piercing, determined, and lacked any distraction. He pulled out two hundred dollar bills and slid them across the counter with his flawed fingers, towards the girl at the countertop

“I need some special polishing and sharpening done, old Betty needs a tune up”

Besides him was another man, he was of Indonesian origin and carried with him a rather large backpack, his hair was curled like springs and looked like sheeps wool. The faint scent of the sky was woven into his clothes

(Btw neither of these characters are Nancy)

Okay I just subscribed as well ((I’m going to apologize like a lot for that but I’m sorry ))

((Also my character is a male))

Franky had his head in the hood of a car, like he always did in the early mornings before school and in the afternoon after school to late at night, he was practically the only person working at this dump who knew what he was doing in the very slightest, which is why the owner gave him a bit for leniency with him. He didn’t look up when he heard people entered the shop, didn’t care in the slightest actually he just liked working on anything mechanical it distracted him from his life and everything about it, his face shoved deep into a engine and his hands covered in grease was a perfect way to pretend he didn’t exist.

That was until he was called for but the front lady, a lady with overly done makeup, long dark purple nails, and chomping at gum...oh how he hated that chomping.

“What!” He called out roughly dragging himself up from his current project.

“We got customers” the lady said in a lazy squeaky voice which graded on his nerves.

“Isn’t it your job to deal with them” he replied annoyed for being interrupted at his attempts at pretending he was nothing.

“Just do it brat” the lady replied

Franky huffed at walker towards them before crossing his arms “so what do you need” he asked

The man looked over towards a large machine used for polishing and grinding of tools and parts

“Can I get an object of mine polished? I’ll pay you double what that twink would” he said, showing a pair of sharp diamond shaped fangs. He had a pocket watch in one hand, shaped like a black diamond

The other man spoke up “Yea, and were looking for someo-“

The grey skinned man put a hand on his mouth “shut up seraph! Well ask the kid later”

Franky looked at them for a moment before tilting his chin up slightly to asset them “depends on the object” he replied, if they were willing to pay double then had no f**king issue but he still needed to know what he was polishing to see if this dump even had the right stuff for it.

Franky’s eyes landed at the other man as he was cut off, his blue eyes looked for only a second analyzing him for a moment before shrugging it off “what do you need polished I gotta see if I got the right stuff for it” he asked again after the man shushed his companion.