Cyn's Self-RP Posts
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Cyn's Self-RP Posts
by Cyn431 12/30/2009, 12:23 am
Maturity: middle-high-high
Fantasy: high, since the DE was a very messed up RP
This is basically my little freewriting thread, except these were all ideas for self-RP posts to develop a plot. I'm not sure if I'll ever get to do them, though. So I want to post them so I don't forget them, if I ever do get the opportunity. I probably won't forget them, though, since I dream of these posts every night that I don't dream about my crush. xD
If anybody of you from the DE is reading this and wants to reply to one of these posts-to-be, let me know. At some point, if not right then, maybe we could do that RP on the DE Thread.
Here's the Cast! (in order of appearance)
Crystal Dhesira "Crys" Spilmor, 25, Runaway [sometimes she's known as Kristina Desiree Smith, her cover name]
Genevieve Sarah "Jenny" Myist, 21, Slave
Citrine Daisy "Cindy" Spilmor, 13, Werewolf
Random People
Caspian "Blackheart" "Blackie" Black, Old, Curser
Claire Marphi, 20, Attorney
Crystal sat alone on a tree branch, being watched by several stars, perhaps several souls. She threw her jacket and jeans in a pile on the ground, and hopped down. The moonlight made the swimsuit she was in sparkle: the one--she couldn't think the name without squirting a tear--had given her many years ago (she hadn't grown much). She closed her eyes as she walked towards the lake, and took a dive. As she cracked the surface of the water and swam through its cool depths, Crys began to feel refreshed, just not quite renewed. Why not quite?
He wasn't there with her.
Everything else was. The water--the cool water at that. The swimming. The night. The swimsuit. The quiet of it all. The long time at which she stayed down.
All that was missing was him.
Eventually Crystal relaxed and let the waves carry her body back to the surface. She tread water as she began to breathe again, and yet she wasn't breathing at all. The thought of him always took it away from her.
Sometimes Crystal didn't feel like she belonged to breathe, to live. She'd done a lot of wrong--a lot of wrong to him. She wasn't even there to say goodbye. The last memory she had of him was once she couldn't erase, but would do anything to obliterate.
Soon it became too much to bear. With a gasp, Crys shot herself back underwater, allowing the lake to drink up her salty tears. As she wandered, she wondered if she should go back up. Did anything matter anymore? Maybe it didn't. Maybe she should find a rock to trap her foot under, and lay there to die.
But would that be what he wanted?
And just then she remembered something. Something very crucial. With her mind set, she began to head down deeper into the lake's depths, with nothing but the light of the night by her side.
.|*|.|*|.
A squeak echoed through the hallways of an old Slayer dungeon as Jenny cautiously peeked inside. There seemed to be nobody in sight, so she stepped inside, carefully closing the door behind her. Jenny swept a strand of neat black hair, suggesting she was in her clean state, as she slowly walked the halls, her bare feet strangely making the floor clack with each step. She heard a bark from one door and recognized it instantly. To make sure, she (unnecessarily) smashed her body against the door, her ear the most pressurized.
A whimper. It was Cindy alright.
Horribly excited and worried, her hand flew to the doorknob and swiped the door open, only left to gasp. "Cindy?!" she exhaled as her hands flew to her mouth.
There lay a creamy orange wolf: small, bony, dirty--just flat-out abused. A flea lingered here and there. Scars of dark assortments, thick and thin, shone next to the light of her fur. And there were even some cuts still open. Two liquid gold eyes, with red where the white should be, looked up to Jenny, and a whimper trembled in her scratched throat.
Jenny semi-silently shut the door behind her and hurried to the wolf's side. "Cindy, what happened?" she whispered. A few seconds of silence gave Jenny the answer she didn't want. "Oh, right," she muttered. "Can't you change to be a human?"
Cindy didn't exactly respond. She tried to use telepathy to tell Jenny it'd probably hurt. It apparently didn't work when she continued to sit there in the same position, waiting. Her nose twitched as a flea landed on it, and then hopped off. With a sigh, and painful whimper, Cindy acted reluctant to the act, hoping Jenny could catch a hint.
Jenny gave a sad smile. "Try?" she asked. "It might help." One of her silver eyes trapped the flea in her gaze, and she smacked it against the wall. There was enough agitation in the air as it was.
Cindy continued to look uneasy. She was right, though, it would probably help to become human. The thing was, if it didn't help, it would ruin everything for her. And that was the last thing she needed, considering the state she was in.
"Please?" Jenny pleaded one last time.
Cindy looked up at her cousin. One final whimper quivered in her throat before she gave a small nod. Her eyes closed, revealing two burned eyelids, as gradually she began to transform into a human.
The result was a small tan girl rolled up in a ball, with ruffled up and partially burned creamy orange hair. Her skin was terribly scarred, an open cut here and there, and a gash on her side. There were a few stray tears in her clothing, one of them revealing quite the wound on her stomach. Slowly a pair of dark, liquid gold eyes fluttered open to look at Jenny, although they were light next to the thin black circle surrounding each eye. She was breathing very slowly and thinly, and it took a few seconds for her to be able to speak.
"I tried to tell you it'd be painful," she mumbled through two lips that could barely move. And Cindy's eyes closed.
Citrine Daisy Spilmor was dead.
Or at least pretty darn close.
.|*|.|*|.
Now Jenny felt really guilty. She'd ran away from the scene of Cindy's death--which in one aspect she herself had caused--with the magic locket, and didn't even mourn, or try to help, or anything. She just snatched the locket and ran away.
What an idiot, she thought of herself as she ran off. A cold, heartless idiot.
Jenny continued to run. Just seconds later she found herself releasing a brief but really high scream, flat on her face on the ground with a throbbing foot. Her fearful, wide silver eyes floated up.
"Whoa, sorry!" a man with a Southern accent yelped. He stammered an apology as he helped Jenny get back onto her feet.
Jenny was surprised herself to be showered by so much sympathy, apology--good things. She blinked, remaining silent, at the light brown haired man standing before her.
"I-It's alright," she stuttered, looking down at the ground to see if she'd dropped the locket. She had. Quickly Jenny dropped down and shoved it into her pocket.
"Sorry, beauty," sighed the man one last time. "I was walkin' and didn't see you walkin' too." His eyes fell to her pocket. "Eh, what's that?"
She seemed distracted for a few moments before shaking her head to reality. "Huh? Oh, this?" Jenny said as she jiggled her hand around in her pocket, the gold clinking together. "Just a gold locket."
"Ooh, a rich beauty?" he flirted, making Jenny's skin become a soft pink, even though she had no interest in him. "Care to barter?"
"N--" Jenny stopped to consider the possibilities. With a smile creeping onto her lips, she asked, "What for what?"
The man gave a toothy grin as he reached out of his own pocket three stones that sparkled like the ocean, and looked like water drops straight from one. "Sapphires," he exhaled with wonder, noticing Jenny's dropped jaw. "All three-a these beauties for yer locket and a kiss."
Jenny hummed in thought, a small index finger lightly touching her chin. "Minus the kiss?" she asked.
"You know, just for you, cute little thing, I'll go with that," he agreed with a nod, pouring the three into her opposite pocket and patting the denim. "Deal?"
Gladly Jenny handed over the locket. "Deal." she repeated with a smile.
The man chuckled happily. "Thank ya for the business, ma'am," he bid goodbye as he went on his way.
"You too!" Jenny called, and dashed off to wherever. She'd actually gotten rid of the locket!
Or so she thought, anyway.
.|*|.|*|.
Excitement and victory bubbling up inside her, Jenny hurried up to the final building she planned to get through: Blackheart's. All she had to do was give him the replica. Hand it over. Give an excuse to get out. Succeed in getting out. Then she'd be free. That's all it took.
Not too hard, right?
You can do it, she told herself as she opened the door a crack. Jenny winced when the hinges squeaked, announcing her entry and the time for an oiling.
"You better not have failed me this time," Blackheart's voice lingered in the air, sending chills down Jenny's spine. "Did you?"
All Jenny had felt just moments before solidified into a heavy weight in her chest. She swallowed down something in her throat before stuttering in reply, "No Sir." Jenny opened the door a bit more, allowing herself to slip in and close the door in the face of her happiness. "I've retrieved what you wanted," she called, her voice absorbed by the walls around her, as well as her footsteps. She searched for Blackheart, only to jump when he suddenly towered over her.
Blackheart looked down upon Jenny, hiding a grin with a smirk as she practically cowered under his powerful gaze. "And it is?" he asked.
"The locket," she replied, assuming it was the wrong answer.
"Don't stall, Genevieve," he snapped, impatience ringing in his already creepy voice. Blackheart put out a white hand, palm facing up. "Why is it not here right now?"
Jenny cringed. She hated being called Genevieve. It only gave her more fear with the memory of her parents, scolding her for helping "the other side." They never did understand. She placed her own pale hand into her pocket, digging out the golden treasure. "This is what you wanted, correct?" she asked.
"Ahem?"
Another lump formed in her throat, easier to swallow down than the last one. "Correct," she muttered, letting the chains slip from her fingers and onto his palm.
"There we go," he said, slipping it around his wrist, gazing at the gold intently. "I'm assuming you had to kill the wolf to get it?" he asked once his eyes lifted from the locket.
There was a third lump to shove down, and it barely disappeared without her choking on it. Cindy. "Yes," Jenny replied as truthfully as her knowledge could take her.
Blackheart's coal black eyes examined Jenny up and down a time or two. "So where is she now?" he questioned.
She hadn't expected to be asked that. Quickly Jenny flipped through possible scenarios to give for cover. Someone else took her, she'd incinerated mysteriously.... "It was an underwater fight," she settled with. "I ended up killing her in the lake, and she ended up sinking to the floor, and you know how deep--"
"Bring the corpse to my feet," he demanded, and pointed to the door abruptly.
He did not just ask that! she thought. "Yes, Sir," she stammered before nearly tripping over her own feet as she hurried out the door, Blackheart's eyes weighing her down with every step she took.
Was this freedom? Or deeper slavery? She wasn't sure anymore. It all depended on who she ran into, her choices as well as theirs, and what fate had in store for her this time.
.|*|.|*|.
Sitting behind a desk with her nose in a book was none other than the "long lost" Claire Marphi. She hadn't changed much from her teenage years: short, fair skinned, short red hair, and sparkling brown eyes. Just instead of a t-shirt and jeans, she had on more dressy clothes.
No one knew she'd inhabited the old building that once belonged to the Spilmors (not that she knew that or anything). Few people even knew Claire was working there as a lawyer, age 21. And she was the only one there, because she'd found success in finding a way to do her job and stay home for most of her time.
To her surprise, the phone rang. Thrill running through her body, a bookmark flew onto the page she last had her eyes on, and the phone was at her ear.
"Hello, this is Claire Marphi, how can I help you?" she gave her practically automatic, and yet cheery, greetings to the caller. The bright look on her face softened to a casual look as she readied her paper and pen to take notes if necessary.
"Just tell me how, I'll try," she assured, and paused to listen some more. The casual look on her face flashed a bad memory at what she heard. "To my misfortune, I am," Claire replied. Her hand began flying across the paper, taking notes in a neat, somewhat wavy handwriting.
"So you need me to have a talk with him about a compromise," she summarized all she just heard. When the caller confirmed, Claire sighed. "If I die or get kidnapped, you will have to pay me somehow." The caller gave a few more words. "I'll do my best." Claire hang up the phone, and looked down at the notes she had down:
She couldn't believe she was actually doing this. Over and over again Claire reread her notes. Really? Of all things she had to do, she had to do this?
"You took this job in Baradia for a reason," Claire reminded herself. With a nod, she slipped her notes in a small manila envelope, URGENT stamped on the front in red ink. On a free section of her desk, Claire began to work on specific sentences and questions to say, and their tones. "For a very good reason."
Fantasy: high, since the DE was a very messed up RP
This is basically my little freewriting thread, except these were all ideas for self-RP posts to develop a plot. I'm not sure if I'll ever get to do them, though. So I want to post them so I don't forget them, if I ever do get the opportunity. I probably won't forget them, though, since I dream of these posts every night that I don't dream about my crush. xD
If anybody of you from the DE is reading this and wants to reply to one of these posts-to-be, let me know. At some point, if not right then, maybe we could do that RP on the DE Thread.
Here's the Cast! (in order of appearance)
Crystal Dhesira "Crys" Spilmor, 25, Runaway [sometimes she's known as Kristina Desiree Smith, her cover name]
Genevieve Sarah "Jenny" Myist, 21, Slave
Citrine Daisy "Cindy" Spilmor, 13, Werewolf
Random People
Caspian "Blackheart" "Blackie" Black, Old, Curser
Claire Marphi, 20, Attorney
Crystal sat alone on a tree branch, being watched by several stars, perhaps several souls. She threw her jacket and jeans in a pile on the ground, and hopped down. The moonlight made the swimsuit she was in sparkle: the one--she couldn't think the name without squirting a tear--had given her many years ago (she hadn't grown much). She closed her eyes as she walked towards the lake, and took a dive. As she cracked the surface of the water and swam through its cool depths, Crys began to feel refreshed, just not quite renewed. Why not quite?
He wasn't there with her.
Everything else was. The water--the cool water at that. The swimming. The night. The swimsuit. The quiet of it all. The long time at which she stayed down.
All that was missing was him.
Eventually Crystal relaxed and let the waves carry her body back to the surface. She tread water as she began to breathe again, and yet she wasn't breathing at all. The thought of him always took it away from her.
Sometimes Crystal didn't feel like she belonged to breathe, to live. She'd done a lot of wrong--a lot of wrong to him. She wasn't even there to say goodbye. The last memory she had of him was once she couldn't erase, but would do anything to obliterate.
Soon it became too much to bear. With a gasp, Crys shot herself back underwater, allowing the lake to drink up her salty tears. As she wandered, she wondered if she should go back up. Did anything matter anymore? Maybe it didn't. Maybe she should find a rock to trap her foot under, and lay there to die.
But would that be what he wanted?
And just then she remembered something. Something very crucial. With her mind set, she began to head down deeper into the lake's depths, with nothing but the light of the night by her side.
.|*|.|*|.
A squeak echoed through the hallways of an old Slayer dungeon as Jenny cautiously peeked inside. There seemed to be nobody in sight, so she stepped inside, carefully closing the door behind her. Jenny swept a strand of neat black hair, suggesting she was in her clean state, as she slowly walked the halls, her bare feet strangely making the floor clack with each step. She heard a bark from one door and recognized it instantly. To make sure, she (unnecessarily) smashed her body against the door, her ear the most pressurized.
A whimper. It was Cindy alright.
Horribly excited and worried, her hand flew to the doorknob and swiped the door open, only left to gasp. "Cindy?!" she exhaled as her hands flew to her mouth.
There lay a creamy orange wolf: small, bony, dirty--just flat-out abused. A flea lingered here and there. Scars of dark assortments, thick and thin, shone next to the light of her fur. And there were even some cuts still open. Two liquid gold eyes, with red where the white should be, looked up to Jenny, and a whimper trembled in her scratched throat.
Jenny semi-silently shut the door behind her and hurried to the wolf's side. "Cindy, what happened?" she whispered. A few seconds of silence gave Jenny the answer she didn't want. "Oh, right," she muttered. "Can't you change to be a human?"
Cindy didn't exactly respond. She tried to use telepathy to tell Jenny it'd probably hurt. It apparently didn't work when she continued to sit there in the same position, waiting. Her nose twitched as a flea landed on it, and then hopped off. With a sigh, and painful whimper, Cindy acted reluctant to the act, hoping Jenny could catch a hint.
Jenny gave a sad smile. "Try?" she asked. "It might help." One of her silver eyes trapped the flea in her gaze, and she smacked it against the wall. There was enough agitation in the air as it was.
Cindy continued to look uneasy. She was right, though, it would probably help to become human. The thing was, if it didn't help, it would ruin everything for her. And that was the last thing she needed, considering the state she was in.
"Please?" Jenny pleaded one last time.
Cindy looked up at her cousin. One final whimper quivered in her throat before she gave a small nod. Her eyes closed, revealing two burned eyelids, as gradually she began to transform into a human.
The result was a small tan girl rolled up in a ball, with ruffled up and partially burned creamy orange hair. Her skin was terribly scarred, an open cut here and there, and a gash on her side. There were a few stray tears in her clothing, one of them revealing quite the wound on her stomach. Slowly a pair of dark, liquid gold eyes fluttered open to look at Jenny, although they were light next to the thin black circle surrounding each eye. She was breathing very slowly and thinly, and it took a few seconds for her to be able to speak.
"I tried to tell you it'd be painful," she mumbled through two lips that could barely move. And Cindy's eyes closed.
Citrine Daisy Spilmor was dead.
Or at least pretty darn close.
.|*|.|*|.
Now Jenny felt really guilty. She'd ran away from the scene of Cindy's death--which in one aspect she herself had caused--with the magic locket, and didn't even mourn, or try to help, or anything. She just snatched the locket and ran away.
What an idiot, she thought of herself as she ran off. A cold, heartless idiot.
Jenny continued to run. Just seconds later she found herself releasing a brief but really high scream, flat on her face on the ground with a throbbing foot. Her fearful, wide silver eyes floated up.
"Whoa, sorry!" a man with a Southern accent yelped. He stammered an apology as he helped Jenny get back onto her feet.
Jenny was surprised herself to be showered by so much sympathy, apology--good things. She blinked, remaining silent, at the light brown haired man standing before her.
"I-It's alright," she stuttered, looking down at the ground to see if she'd dropped the locket. She had. Quickly Jenny dropped down and shoved it into her pocket.
"Sorry, beauty," sighed the man one last time. "I was walkin' and didn't see you walkin' too." His eyes fell to her pocket. "Eh, what's that?"
She seemed distracted for a few moments before shaking her head to reality. "Huh? Oh, this?" Jenny said as she jiggled her hand around in her pocket, the gold clinking together. "Just a gold locket."
"Ooh, a rich beauty?" he flirted, making Jenny's skin become a soft pink, even though she had no interest in him. "Care to barter?"
"N--" Jenny stopped to consider the possibilities. With a smile creeping onto her lips, she asked, "What for what?"
The man gave a toothy grin as he reached out of his own pocket three stones that sparkled like the ocean, and looked like water drops straight from one. "Sapphires," he exhaled with wonder, noticing Jenny's dropped jaw. "All three-a these beauties for yer locket and a kiss."
Jenny hummed in thought, a small index finger lightly touching her chin. "Minus the kiss?" she asked.
"You know, just for you, cute little thing, I'll go with that," he agreed with a nod, pouring the three into her opposite pocket and patting the denim. "Deal?"
Gladly Jenny handed over the locket. "Deal." she repeated with a smile.
The man chuckled happily. "Thank ya for the business, ma'am," he bid goodbye as he went on his way.
"You too!" Jenny called, and dashed off to wherever. She'd actually gotten rid of the locket!
Or so she thought, anyway.
.|*|.|*|.
Excitement and victory bubbling up inside her, Jenny hurried up to the final building she planned to get through: Blackheart's. All she had to do was give him the replica. Hand it over. Give an excuse to get out. Succeed in getting out. Then she'd be free. That's all it took.
Not too hard, right?
You can do it, she told herself as she opened the door a crack. Jenny winced when the hinges squeaked, announcing her entry and the time for an oiling.
"You better not have failed me this time," Blackheart's voice lingered in the air, sending chills down Jenny's spine. "Did you?"
All Jenny had felt just moments before solidified into a heavy weight in her chest. She swallowed down something in her throat before stuttering in reply, "No Sir." Jenny opened the door a bit more, allowing herself to slip in and close the door in the face of her happiness. "I've retrieved what you wanted," she called, her voice absorbed by the walls around her, as well as her footsteps. She searched for Blackheart, only to jump when he suddenly towered over her.
Blackheart looked down upon Jenny, hiding a grin with a smirk as she practically cowered under his powerful gaze. "And it is?" he asked.
"The locket," she replied, assuming it was the wrong answer.
"Don't stall, Genevieve," he snapped, impatience ringing in his already creepy voice. Blackheart put out a white hand, palm facing up. "Why is it not here right now?"
Jenny cringed. She hated being called Genevieve. It only gave her more fear with the memory of her parents, scolding her for helping "the other side." They never did understand. She placed her own pale hand into her pocket, digging out the golden treasure. "This is what you wanted, correct?" she asked.
"Ahem?"
Another lump formed in her throat, easier to swallow down than the last one. "Correct," she muttered, letting the chains slip from her fingers and onto his palm.
"There we go," he said, slipping it around his wrist, gazing at the gold intently. "I'm assuming you had to kill the wolf to get it?" he asked once his eyes lifted from the locket.
There was a third lump to shove down, and it barely disappeared without her choking on it. Cindy. "Yes," Jenny replied as truthfully as her knowledge could take her.
Blackheart's coal black eyes examined Jenny up and down a time or two. "So where is she now?" he questioned.
She hadn't expected to be asked that. Quickly Jenny flipped through possible scenarios to give for cover. Someone else took her, she'd incinerated mysteriously.... "It was an underwater fight," she settled with. "I ended up killing her in the lake, and she ended up sinking to the floor, and you know how deep--"
"Bring the corpse to my feet," he demanded, and pointed to the door abruptly.
He did not just ask that! she thought. "Yes, Sir," she stammered before nearly tripping over her own feet as she hurried out the door, Blackheart's eyes weighing her down with every step she took.
Was this freedom? Or deeper slavery? She wasn't sure anymore. It all depended on who she ran into, her choices as well as theirs, and what fate had in store for her this time.
.|*|.|*|.
Sitting behind a desk with her nose in a book was none other than the "long lost" Claire Marphi. She hadn't changed much from her teenage years: short, fair skinned, short red hair, and sparkling brown eyes. Just instead of a t-shirt and jeans, she had on more dressy clothes.
No one knew she'd inhabited the old building that once belonged to the Spilmors (not that she knew that or anything). Few people even knew Claire was working there as a lawyer, age 21. And she was the only one there, because she'd found success in finding a way to do her job and stay home for most of her time.
To her surprise, the phone rang. Thrill running through her body, a bookmark flew onto the page she last had her eyes on, and the phone was at her ear.
"Hello, this is Claire Marphi, how can I help you?" she gave her practically automatic, and yet cheery, greetings to the caller. The bright look on her face softened to a casual look as she readied her paper and pen to take notes if necessary.
"Just tell me how, I'll try," she assured, and paused to listen some more. The casual look on her face flashed a bad memory at what she heard. "To my misfortune, I am," Claire replied. Her hand began flying across the paper, taking notes in a neat, somewhat wavy handwriting.
"So you need me to have a talk with him about a compromise," she summarized all she just heard. When the caller confirmed, Claire sighed. "If I die or get kidnapped, you will have to pay me somehow." The caller gave a few more words. "I'll do my best." Claire hang up the phone, and looked down at the notes she had down:
Crys
Blackheart
Be done by Friday preferably
No more curse -- everybody
Imprison -- or enslave, kill, injure, etc.
Jenny free
All others safe
No harm intended from Crys
Get paid if harmed
She couldn't believe she was actually doing this. Over and over again Claire reread her notes. Really? Of all things she had to do, she had to do this?
"You took this job in Baradia for a reason," Claire reminded herself. With a nod, she slipped her notes in a small manila envelope, URGENT stamped on the front in red ink. On a free section of her desk, Claire began to work on specific sentences and questions to say, and their tones. "For a very good reason."
Last edited by Cyn431 on 1/3/2010, 8:24 pm; edited 9 times in total
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Re: Cyn's Self-RP Posts
by Cyn431 1/2/2010, 1:26 pm
Yesh. xD
But hey, she's been under pressure and slavery and partial fear for the past eight years...
And now I'm mad 'cause I had a whole new post done, but no, it took me longer than half an hour for me to type it and I forgot to copy it so I lost all of the text. T_T
But hey, she's been under pressure and slavery and partial fear for the past eight years...
And now I'm mad 'cause I had a whole new post done, but no, it took me longer than half an hour for me to type it and I forgot to copy it so I lost all of the text. T_T
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Re: Cyn's Self-RP Posts
by The Mad Hatter 1/2/2010, 1:33 pm
oooh...
that shucks.
usually i can just click back, and it's there. luckily.
Once I lost 2,000 words.
that shucks.
usually i can just click back, and it's there. luckily.
Once I lost 2,000 words.
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Re: Cyn's Self-RP Posts
by Cyn431 1/2/2010, 1:54 pm
Yeah.
Lucky.
Ouch. xP
I just added the Jenny+Blackie post.
Lucky.
Ouch. xP
I just added the Jenny+Blackie post.
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Re: Cyn's Self-RP Posts
by The Mad Hatter 1/2/2010, 9:06 pm
*grabs Alexis by head like a Mii character on the Wii**drops into situation*
What the--
This would be a time when Alexis would walk in. xDD
What the--
This would be a time when Alexis would walk in. xDD
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Re: Cyn's Self-RP Posts
by Cyn431 1/2/2010, 9:40 pm
Well, if you wanted, we could do this at the DE, and then Alexis can hop in, 'cause technically if I RPed as Alexis for something on the front post I wouldn't do her right... 
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