Sickness in our minds

[Edmia]

Heading inside his room, Derick sat on his bed. Pulling out his note pad out of his back pocket. No one knew he had this. He used it to put down his thoughts and sketch. The Male entered the following:
The fields of temptations are once again in view, the poisonous daisies calling me. I cannot enter for I may be hurt, or worse cause pain. I must focus on the goal ahead, bringing together my generation.
Finishing the poem, he sighed. Laying down on his bed, he closed his eyes to wait out the storm.
(The poem is about his lust for girs)

[CreatureOfHabit]

Ian finally snapped out of it, to find that the room was empty.
He walked off into his own room, hoping that no one would bring it up again.
He splashed some cold water on his face, to calm him down, and sat on top of his bed. He closed the door, then turned to his drawer, opening it. As he grabbed an old book, his eyes scanned the room, which was filled with various knick knacks. Ian didn't want to come off as selfish, as he knew fancy items were hard to come by. But none the less, he loved to collect trinkets. There were tons of places to look in the wreckage, whenever it was his turn to find food. It was almost calming, as if the people who had used to own all this were still here. And almost as if everything was ok. He grabbed a piece of charcoal, and began to write. He had a hobby he had picked up a while called "scratch out poetry". He often had picked up several books, and with his least favorites, he would turn them into his own little masterpieces. He sat in the room, scribbling away. (I had the idea for this on Friday, but didn't realize Derrick also had a think for poetry. I hope this is ok)

[Rhubarb]

Originally Posted by ThatOneWarriorCatNerd

Ian finally snapped out of it, to find that the room was empty.
He walked off into his own room, hoping that no one would bring it up again.
He splashed some cold water on his face, to calm him down, and sat on top of his bed. He closed the door, then turned to his drawer, opening it. As he grabbed an old book, his eyes scanned the room, which was filled with various knick knacks. Ian didn't want to come off as selfish, as he knew fancy items were hard to come by. But none the less, he loved to collect trinkets. There were tons of places to look in the wreckage, whenever it was his turn to find food. It was almost calming, as if the people who had used to own all this were still here. And almost as if everything was ok. He grabbed a piece of charcoal, and began to write. He had a hobby he had picked up a while called "scratch out poetry". He often had picked up several books, and with his least favorites, he would turn them into his own little masterpieces. He sat in the room, scribbling away. (I had the idea for this on Friday, but didn't realize Derrick also had a think for poetry. I hope this is ok)

Name- Jack Cerel (ker-rel)
Age- 13
Gender- Male
Ability- Deppends on the metals he consunmes. (Pretty much powers from the world of mistborn turned down abit)
Personality- Lonely he rarely see other sane or living humans. He does what he needs to survive
Looks- Black haired slightly short male with navy to turn grey eyes
Cat looks(don't question it just do it: tail and wiskers
Wolf looks(^^^: fluffly wolf ears
Anything else: you must see mistborn to understand some powers but don't worry nothing too OP
Questions: Is this slightly axiom verge/ fall out?
Other: hows your day been?

[Rhubarb]

Originally Posted by Green mage

Name- Jack Cerel (ker-rel)
Age- 13
Gender- Male
Ability- Deppends on the metals he consunmes. (Pretty much powers from the world of mistborn turned down abit)
Personality- Lonely he rarely see other sane or living humans. He does what he needs to survive
Looks- Black haired slightly short male with navy to turn grey eyes
Cat looks(don't question it just do it: tail and wiskers
Wolf looks(^^^: fluffly wolf ears
Anything else: you must see mistborn to understand some powers but don't worry nothing too OP
Questions: Is this slightly axiom verge/ fall out?
Other: hows your day been?

I'm just kinda roleplay alone here for a minute...
He rummaged through and old house upstairs. He heard voices from below Just insane people He thought then he heard it Radiation wave. He looked around the room for copper but all he could find was some pennies. He would have to use his stored copper. He ate the pennies and went outside. He focused blue lines appeared coming out of his chest. He pulled one throwing himself out the window into the air. He pulled others following the people running from the wave in the sky. @Redwood Sienna

[Edmia]

Originally Posted by ThatOneWarriorCatNerd

Ian finally snapped out of it, to find that the room was empty.
He walked off into his own room, hoping that no one would bring it up again.
He splashed some cold water on his face, to calm him down, and sat on top of his bed. He closed the door, then turned to his drawer, opening it. As he grabbed an old book, his eyes scanned the room, which was filled with various knick knacks. Ian didn't want to come off as selfish, as he knew fancy items were hard to come by. But none the less, he loved to collect trinkets. There were tons of places to look in the wreckage, whenever it was his turn to find food. It was almost calming, as if the people who had used to own all this were still here. And almost as if everything was ok. He grabbed a piece of charcoal, and began to write. He had a hobby he had picked up a while called "scratch out poetry". He often had picked up several books, and with his least favorites, he would turn them into his own little masterpieces. He sat in the room, scribbling away. (I had the idea for this on Friday, but didn't realize Derrick also had a think for poetry. I hope this is ok)

(Its fine!)

[Momotaro]

{Is this still open for sining up?}

[Ariii]

It is)