| Welcome to The United Literates, or TUL! We hope you enjoy your visit! We're an all-genre, all-literate forum on the Zathyrus Networks, and we'd love to have you join! Our roleplays range from the fun to the mature, and are all member-run and created; they extend from Fictional roleplays set in the past and future, to Real-Life and Fan-Fiction categories. In addition to roleplays, TUL also has a vibrant community of artists and writers, featured in The Cafe section of the website, who also love to do things out of character through our Lounge area. Right now, you're viewing the forum as a guest, which means you only have limited access to the board and its features. To join TUL and start roleplaying with us, all you have to do is click the link below, register, and pass through our brief application process. So what are you waiting for? Welcome to TUL! Register today! Once you've created an account, please head to The Application Center and follow the instructions to become a full member. If you're already a member, please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Eyrie's Application; Good lord I hope I posted this into the right section. | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 15 2012, 02:32 AM (212 Views) | |
| Eyrie | Feb 15 2012, 02:32 AM Post #1 |
Welcome to the Club
![]()
|
OOC Information Name: You can call me Eyrie.(Like the griffin, not the neopet.) Gender: I’m a girl. Who were you referred by? What site were you referred from?: I was a member of the old TUL several years ago, when I was thirteen or fourteen-ish. I’d tell you my old username but I honestly can’t remember it. Age: I’m 19 . Contact: On this site is fine. I imagine I’ll be checking it regularly. Role Playing Experience: I started roleplaying on neopets when I was around nine years old and I was really passionate about it up until I was fourteen or so. I continued to do it a little bit on-and-off through my earlier teenage years, but I haven’t now in a really long time, and I’m looking to restart. IC Information Role Play Sample:(don’t hate me, but I go forty-seven words over one thousand. I apologize.) She trudged along the slick black pavement in the dim morning light, her gloved left hand crammed deep into the pocket of her parka. The snow-covered evergreens exploded forth from the woods on either side of the road, crowned at the tips and hyper-dramatic with the glare of the rising sun, like countless atomic bombs, detonated and frozen in time. She glanced to the motionless branches now and again, each as indistinguishable as the last. In a bored sigh, plumes of white air billowed up to the indifferent sky, a boring battleship gray, and she paused to watch it until entropy overtook the wisp and it vanished. She was in no rush, on the empty streets that stretched forth repetitively like a Hanna Barbara cartoon. She shifted her right shoulder to reposition the loaded shotgun that made the hypotenuse of a right triangle with her slightly extended forearm and her body. It wasn’t very heavy, but time and distance gave it the illusion of weight, along with the large olive green pack that slung over her shoulders. She shifted the gun again, but again it did not find a comfortable resting place. Irritated and discontented, her feet stopped again, and this time she sat in the middle of the road. Cars were not a concern—she tended to doubt that many of them ran any more. And if they did, they had no reason to be in freezing, unpopulated upstate New York. Although she tended to doubt that anyone cared too much about geography any more. Once the army of half-dead mongrel strangers emerged from some origin unknown, the world as she knew it fell apart instantaneously. She had always assumed that the so-called “zombie takeover” was something of a joke. Something of sci-fi books and poorly directed movies. But as her family and friends transmogrified into bloodied, personality-bare versions of their former selves and staggered towards her in an attempt to get her to join their ranks, the joke was over. She took her father’s shotgun, which she barely knew how to work at first. Packed carton upon carton of ammunition into every pocket and every crevasse of her bag. No room for food, even. And she ran. She hardly paid attention to where she was going, and so she ended up in the North, on some monotonous stretch of road, miles from what used to be home. She regretted having forgotten a bottle for water almost immediately after leaving home, but because it was winter, the snow could satisfy her dehydration if she packed it tight and let it melt onto her tongue. It wasn’t long before she regretted choosing all ammo and no food, as well, but she learned quickly that she didn’t need too much to survive, and she somehow always managed to find something palatable before starvation got the best of her. She wasn’t sure exactly where or when she was. Morning, sure. But what day was it? What month? What year, even? She had lugged along her cell phone at first, but reception was gone on the third day and she was entirely sure that it was not because of her location. Since having thrown it away, she had stopped trying to keep track of time, and relied more on the position of the sun, although wintery cloud-cover made it hard. Because she knew she was alone, she remarked aloud, “haven’t seen anyone for days”—neither living, nor dead, nor somewhere in between—no one. In a way it was a comfort. Other, living people could be just as scary as zombies, if not scarier. They were just as dangerous and unpredictable, at least. But that was why she had figured that the Northern direction was a good idea, once she had figured out which direction she was going in; according to the news, when it was still broadcasted, mobs of people began moving south when the epidemic broke out. According to the news when she last saw it, most people headed towards Florida or Texas, or even Mexico. She didn’t know if there were zombies there, but with how fast the sickness seemed to travel, it seemed likely. But she’d prefer to be on her own. Partnership meant the formation of trust, and formation of trust meant the fear of loss. And those were things she’d rather not deal with. With how quickly government and societal organization fell apart in the United States, she had figured that whichever Canadians stayed in their country weren’t in great shape, either, due to its geographic contiguity. There wasn’t a way to effectively stop the spread, as far as she was concerned. The good news so far was that there was nobody on the road, although she wasn’t expecting any zombies. The strange creatures seemed more attracted to light and noise, and in the middle of nowhere, their open wounds would cause them a slow surrender to hypothermia and eventual death. She dug a granola bar out of her backpack—she’d rummaged through an abandoned house the other day and had found a few supplies to fill the space that she had emptied by having used some ammo. She kept her eyes up as she ate, her head constantly turning as though it were attached by an axis to her shoulders. Other than the panic and chaos of an unexpected attack, zombies weren’t even that scary. At the thought, she stifled a quiet laugh with the irony. Sure, they’re the new number one cause of death, she thought, but their motor skills were generally poor, their muscles weak, and their gait a moderate pace at best. Humans were so much worse. The shotgun she kept hugged to her right side wasn’t entirely reserved for the undead. She figured that she would kill anyone or anything that touched her. Which has already happened a few times in however long I’ve been out here, she thought with a shudder. It was strange, how circumstance could turn anyone into a monster, figuratively or literally. She shouldered the pack again, pocketed an uneaten half of the bar, and stood, stretching her tired arms. “I guess that in that way, there’s people who act like monsters and monsters who act like people,” she said to nobody in particular, and continued slowly down the road to nowhere. The Genres: I don’t really know any more, seeing as my hiatus was so lengthy. I’ve never been much into fanfictions and I honestly know nothing about the realm of anime, but I’m willing to try anything that I feel I can write about at least once! I’m big into modern fiction and I’ve been very into pseudo-medieval and steampunk genres as of late. And zombies. So many zombies. |
![]() |
|
| Walking Softly | Feb 15 2012, 11:56 AM Post #2 |
![]()
Old-Timer
|
![]() I'd like to welcome you to the TUL community and hope your stay with us will be thoroughly enjoyable. If at any time you find yourself stuck, confused, or in need of answers; please PM an admin or post in the Shout-out board. We will be more then happy to answer what ever questions you may have. If you'd like an in-depth review of your admission, please contact the staff member that accepted you. Be sure to keep up to date with our Broadcasts as the information posted will effect your experience here on TUL. Check this out! Here is a list of some features to check out on your stay here. These are not all the features we have, but some of the larger ones.
Please be sure to read the rules before proceeding, for they will prevent you from So, without further ado, welcome to The United Literates! Enjoy yourself!
|
|
~Burn the land and boil the sea, You can't take the sky from me~ Long Live Firefly The Battle Arena - participate and vote! Seriously, click on it. My signature shall never again include reference to pole dancing. | |
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Accepted Applications · Next Topic » |








8:14 PM Jul 10