King Kong: Return to Skull Island

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(Of due note, Batman could kill both the Hulk and Snake, so its a moot point.)
 
^Nuh-uh, millionares who dress like flying rodents have no chance against the Hulk.
 
o_o; Um... I won't join your little superhero argument there, but it seems you guys have strayed from King Kong....

Name: Christine

Age: 16

Gender: Female

Appearence: Tall and slender, with long, waist-length brown hair and sad green eyes. Wears black clothing(often flowing black robes), a sky-blue necklace with a teardrop-shaped sapphire on it, and a detached expression.

Personality: She doesn't trust anyone. She tries to be tolerant of others, but that's about it. She talks only when it's necessary, and keeps to herself and her own thoughts. Deep down, she cares about people, but she tries to hide it behind a cold, hard shell. She loves animals to make up for her hatred towards everyone else.

History: She's had a terrible past, and hates to talk about it. She has been hurt and beaten countless times by countless people, the cause of her general despite for others. She's an outcast because of this very despite, and was picked on and teased because of it. In short, she's had a tough life, which you might discover more specific details about later.

Weapons (don't go overboard here...): She has a knife that she carries in her pocket, mostly for practical purposes but sometimes, when necessary, for battle. She also has a long, medieval-looking sword that she keeps in a hilt that she wears.

Field of Expertise: Animal training(like that other guy said for his char, NOT capture) and zoology, and combat/martial arts.

RP Sample: (Not one of my best; I found this fast, so bear with me.)
A girl stood on a nearby street corner, watching from there as a man entered Kong Studios. She was clothed entirely in black, aside from the fact that her black t-shirt had a white picture of a falcon on it. She flicked a bang out of her distant eyes so as to see him better, just as he disappeared into the room. Sighing, she slumped against the wall of the nearest building, her hands unconsciously fingering the teardrop-shaped gem around her neck. "Life is so dull," she murmured, staring at it.
 
righto, your accepted pika-mew
 
i think we should start soon befor this rp dies.
 
i dont know amy chan. *huggles* your the best pair in the world!
 
fine, we can start. Someone make the first post.
 
its your roleplay, why dont you make the first post?
 
OOC: Maybe I will, GOSH!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pat Henessy sat on his bed, flipping through the pages of his magazine. The ride on Dr. Who's airship had been relatively smooth, only a bit of turbulence that had cropped up lately. At first Pat had looked out the window when it started, but all he saw was thick fog.

A voice erupted from the speaker on the wall, "All Staff Report to main hangar. Air drop is coming up shortly."

Pat thought, Well, time to see whatever Judas wanted on that island.
 
Christine lay on her own bed in the airship, unconsciously thumbing through a black diary while occasionally pausing to gaze sideways out the fogged and misty window. Reaching a blank page at last, she grabbed her pencil and began writing. She let the words flow, from her mind, to the pencil, to the paper, writing anything and everything she felt and sensed. The words wrote themselves for her, naturally formed themselves into perfect descriptions. Within seconds the formerly blank page was filled with beautiful script.

Suddenly, Christine stopped. "All staff report to main hangar," called the voice of the nearest loudspeaker. "Air drop is coming up shortly." Slowly and reluctantly, she stashed the diary and pencil in her bedside drawer and walked out of the room, shutting the door carefully behind her.
 
I lay down on my bed in a daze, day dreaming about my past life.


A scruffy boy in rags is lying in the gutter out side a kendo/martial arts school. He lies there for five minutes and starts getting rained on. A few minutes later a group of children with sticks come along and start hitting him. Getting no reaction they start hitting him harder. An old man around the age of fifty comes out of the kendo school and starts yelling at the kids. They run off and the man grasps the boy under the armpits and drags him into the school, up the stairs, wincing at each bump, and heaves the boy onto a bed. The boy stays there for two days and the old man, seeing no improvement, starts tending to the boys wounds. When he is finished he strips the boy to his under pants and tends more wounds. Finished, the teacher puts fresh clothes on him and pours some water down the boy's throat.
I jerk out of the day dream and listen to the end of a message. "-to main hanger" I sigh and stand up, stretch and leave my room. I walk down the hall and start day dreaming again.

An older, weathered boy stand at the front of the kendo school with a bamboo sword in his hands. He brings the sword down in one swoop and tells ten students in front of him to start practicing. He puts the sword down and instead of practicing the children all run at him and start beating him with their swords. One sword pierces his left arm deeply and he falls to the ground. Hearing the thump, the older teacher, now 60, comes down the stairs and sees what's happening. He grabs a sword from the rack on the wall and throws it at the children. They run out of the school and each run their different ways to get home. The young boy, 16 years old, stands up with a grunt of pain and leans against the wall. He limps over to the stairs and five minutes later the teacher is tying a bandage to his arm.

I come out of the day dream and walk into a girl. I stumble back and bump into the wall, I wince as my scar has always hurt and never really healed, no matter what medicines I apply. I stare at the floor. "Sorry miss." I stare at the floor and pray that she does not beat me too much.
 
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OOC: This is dead. -.-;

IC: "It's alright," said the girl gently. "I forgive you." Smiling warmly, she asked, "What's your name?" Her face rapidly turned red from maintaining eye contact too long, and she timidly turned her gaze to the floor. She still didn't really know anyone here, even though she had been part of the staff for quite a while now.
 
ooc: lets try and revive it then, ok?

IC:
I sigh in relief and look up at her face only to see she is staring at the floor as well. "My name? My name is ken. What's yours?" I stare at the floor and take a deep breath. "Would you like to be friends? I hope so I have never had a friend before. I'm an orphan. I don't know who my parents were..." I stare at the floor and turn red from just bursting out and saying it. "I'm just wondering, do you have a pad or something I could use? I would like to have a diary. I have some child hood problems" I stop speaking and swallow. Fear deep inside of me rushes up and I gasp and back away from the person in front of me. I look down and realize my hands are shaking. I look again at the person I front of me absolutely terrified of her. I try to move but my legs seem to be stuck. "Sorry miss, I don't know what came over me. I will leave you alone."
 
"Don't, don't!" said Christine calmly, giving Ken a kind smile. "You don't have to do that. As a matter of fact, I like your company. Here, take this." Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a black leather-bound diary, very similar to the one she had been writing in before, aside from the fact that it was blank. Handing it to the boy, she said, "You can keep it; I have my own," and continued down the corridor, stopping to look back over her shoulder at him halfway.
 
I take the diary with a shaking hand and I put the diary in my pocket. I walk back to my room and open the door but stop and close it again. I put the diary in my pocket and run to catch up with the kind girl. Coming along side the girl I look at her. "You forgot to answer my questions. Could you tell me your name and do you want to be friends? Also, would you like to walk with me to the main hanger? Thank you for the diary. I'm going to write in it the first chance I get. Do you want to get yours? We might not get off the island. We are going to Skull Island aren't we?"
 
"Yes, we're going to Skull Island," said the girl. "My name's Christine. I would be happy to be your friend as I have no friends here yet. And yes, your company would be appreciated." Smiling again, she continued, "I probably should, in case we'll be getting off soon." Retracing her steps, she went back to the door of her room, opened it, retrieved the diary, and dashed back out to Ken, making sure to shut the door again.

"So, what's your job for Mr. Who?" asked Christine, walking down the hallway with the boy. "I'm an animal trainer, a zoologist, and one of the combat team." Pausing thoughtfully for a moment, she laughed. "Quite an odd combination, ne?" she said, sounding amused. Realizing suddenly that this was the most she had said to anyone in her whole life, she stared at her shoes again. "How I got here I don't like to think about," she said, turning quiet again.
 
The young boy stands in the hall and waits patiently for Christine to get back. "My job for Mr. Who is …." I falter and gasp for air, unable to breathe or speak. I start breathing again and take deep breathes. "My job is to do with my past and I don't like talking about my past. You can read my diary when I write in it ok?" I continue walking to the main hangar with Christine and I think about my past. I stumble on a bolt on the ground and I fall to my knees. "Help…I can't breathe" I gasp for air but sucking up nothing I start becoming dizzy and I grope the walls. "help…"
 
"Just--just hang on," said Christine frantically, starting to panic. Rushing to the boy's side, she quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. "Are you okay?" she asked, feeling stupid a split second after. Of course he wasn't!!! "Wh-what happened?" She met the boy's eyes for a moment, then swiftly returned her gaze to the ceiling. Feeeling in her pocket for her diary, she pulled it out and started flipping through it, using it as a distraction to keep herself from having to maintain eye contact. As her eyes scanned the pages, they flooded with tears as horrible memories came back to haunt her. Unable to stand it anymore, she shut her eyes tightly, closing the book. Tears leaked onto its leather cover.
 
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