Drama is better kept IC. Respect is key between members; if you want respect you must give respect. If there's a problem with a member please contact either one of the mods or one of the admins.
TAOE is an intermediate to advanced, mature rated site [M], so we ask that all members to be just that; mature. There can be some pretty heavy subject matter so be warned. No characters below 18 years old. NPCs like children and such can be mentioned. There will be no child molester characters allowed on this site.
Though there's no word count, we ask that you try and match your partner's number of words. It's no fun when you write a nice big paragraph and you get a couple sentences back, right? Then don't do it.
Number of Characters
There's no limit to the amount of characters you can make, however before you can make a second character, we ask that your first character has 10 IC posts. Same goes for any subsequent character. PLEASE KEEP YOUR CHARACTERS ACTIVE IF YOU WANNA KEEP THEM.
Register your character as "First Last" on the site, with your character names. If you messed up somehow talk to an admin, they'll be more then glad to edit your name for you. OOC accounts are reserved for Admins and Moderators, so please do not make them!
Avatar pics are 250px by 300px. The personal image on the minioprofile is a square and will resize automatically. This can be an image that represents the player, much like the avatars on the cbox! The Gif is 230px by 110px. Since the skin was so nicely coded by YunoTheNine, we ask to have high quality images please, keep the site pretty. Here is a link to help crop images and gifs: EZGif | PicMonkey
We ask that all faceclaims/play bys to be of actors of age (17 and older). We also ask them to be of real people (actors, models, etc, someone you can get pics and gifs), no anime or other cartoon characters. If you want to use art of your character you can put that in your signature, if you wish.
There will be none tolerated. There are rules to character powers and such for that reason, please see those sections in order to make sure you're not making your character too strong. If you have any questions contact an admin or mod and they'll be more then happy to help!
We simply ask (please) that you use the basic template which is provided within the posts, super easy, either click on the button that says "template" when you write your post or write [template][/*template] at the beginning and end of a post (minus the star). Plotters are required to have a template, but there's lots of resource sites for that such as Caution to the Wind
Generally speaking, the only classification changes characters can undergo is from Pure to Imperfect. Characters can POTENTIALLY go back to Elisium pretending to be Pures, but that would be a very elaborate plot that needs to be discussed with either By or Jonah before it happens.
Everything on this site is copyrighted to the said members or individuals here on TAOE. Skin was made by YunoTheNine of Shine. Templates and Graphics belong to the rightful owners, and there will be no stealing characters either. So we will put it frank, you steal ANYTHING without giving the proper credit, you will be banned. No warning.
We're all here to have a good time! So kick back, write loads, and have fun~! Make some friends! Like, for instance, Steve Buscemi, who also happens to be the password that you need to send to an admin via PM in order to get accepted. ;)
TAOE is set in the biggest city, Haven, of the Isle of Man, an island reserved for those the government deems 'imperfect'. Sexual orientation, gender expression, mental and physical health, intelligence, your willingness to cooperate... It all leads up to your ultimate downfall, the one that brings you to the doors of Haven. The weather is harsh, the streets are filthy, and most of the inhabitants live in poverty, fighting for sport and profit, and joining gangs to get by. It's a tough life, that in Haven, but hey; someone has to be a scapegoat.
But little does the government know, there's something about the Isle of Man that changes its inhabitants. They call it the Flux, and it's quite the phenomenon, leaving people who were once only usual in spirit or body, now unusual in ability. It's like a power, one that can come suddenly, or over time, or even not at all. It all depends, person to person, and is, for whatever reason, all based around the citizen's personality. Whether you're Pure or Imperfect, you have a chance of being blessed, or cursed.
Yet, through this rejection and hardship this is where home lies, and this is your chance to make it so.
The Authority is in place to protect us. They serve us to the best of their ability, they protect the citizens of this country until their very last dying breath. Long ago was a time where there was no peace. War raged upon the land, death and destruction ravaged the people, destroyed their homes, split them apart into chaos. In their desperation for control over the anarchy and disarray, the Authority stepped into their ranks, unannounced, unwelcome at first. This did not last.
They lured the people into their grasp with the promise of peace and prosperity, a vow to food, the end of crime and violence. Of course, the good, the bad and the ugly wanted in on this pledge, and many started taking advantage of the system. Like leeches they sucked, squeezed what they could of the government, to the point where there was general alarm, the populace began to notice! And thus began the weeding.
At first it was but criminals, the worst of the worst, all raided and plucked from the public eye, sent away to an undisclosed location for the safety of the country. But their haul through time grew in size; illness causes panic, those who are sick must be put somewhere else, disability, lest it be mental or physical, leads to voids in the community, gender should be a norm of two, no more no less, and those who do not confirm are to be re-educated or removed... the list for their demands grew longer and more elaborate.
Soon, correctional and holding facilities for these so dubbed Imperfects were so overcrowded you might as well akin them to cans of sardines. The Authority realized they needed a different strategy to keep these people from their Pure society.
They found an island, abandoned from times past, a city crumbling from within. The Isle of Man, reclaiming the city as their own they called it Haven in order to mask the true atrocity behind their Elisium.
This was sixty years ago. We are now the year 2021, three generations into Haven's rebirth.
AHOY MATEYS, this is your friendly neighborhood By peeking her face through the blinds and saying hello~! Been at this RPing thing since I was just a WEE LASS and man if I've come this far I must like it eh? Currently known as your local thread hoarder and one of the admins of TAOE! We've all been working ultra hard on this site so I hope it fills all the little cackles of your writing hearts~
pssttt don't be shy, none of us bite, promise. 8D
Guess what! By's a dirty liar. I bite. I go right for the jugular, every time. My name's Jonah, I'm a cute little baby boy, and I've been at this writing biz for about three years now. I'm not completely dead inside, but boy, am I on my way there! I'm a lean mean posting machine, and I like to just eat chocolate frosting sometimes. I just eat it. Right out of the thing. Give me your love.
I’m a die hard potterhead, metal head, and coffee addict. I have four dogs, two chihuahuas named Tali and Liara, a pitbull named Surri Dog, and an American Staffordshire Terrier named Norma Jean. I’m a bit of a crazy dog lady, but I’m okay with it.
Yo, I'm Roman! I'm a little noodle who wears too much black with hair as red as a fire truck. I am a firm believer in the power of art, and one day I hope to free all the animals from Sea World while Fall out Boy's "Folie à Deux" album plays in the background. I'm always open to talk about anything from plotting to personal life, so don't hesitate to hit me up! Happy writing!
Hi guys, I'm AngelRayne, you can either call me Angel, Rayne, or some variation, just let me know my name and I'll respond! Anyways I'm the site's official cuddler/snuggler. So if you ever need a hug/cuddle/snuggle let me know and I will drown you in cuddles. And as you may have guessed, YOU'RE ALL MINE!
Greetings fellow earthlings! The name's Grace, and I'm the resident ninja and Queen of typos here. But aside from that, I'm just your typical random oddball who's into K-pop, watching anime, and loves shoving her face into books.... Well, not really. I just love to read x3 Anywho I've been doing this whole roleplaying thang since way back in 2008 and it's safe to say that I've become addicted. So why not come and be addicts with us all? Okay, yeah. That's a weird way to put it. Just join us pretty please~? We're nice peeps, I swear!
Omg, I get to type and say hi to you guys! Like, what?! Hehe, hi there, most of you know me from our time elsewhere together, but for anyone who came after I left on the old site: hello. My name is Yuno, or fully "YunoTheNinetales." I picked up coding about a year ago, a little more by now, and honestly I love it. Beyond just the coding itself, though, I love helping other people figure it out. So, seriously, if you ever want some help coding something, learning how to do it, or simply fixing a bug that you cant find; feel free to hit me with a PM~!. You're also more than welcome to make requests on my CTTW Bird House. Love you all, happy posting! -Regards; Yuno
Whether you're new or old to this community, one person we have always got to remember is out loving friend Kaityn Rayne. She was a very creative and great person, easy to talk to and always there. Anyone who knew Kaityn knows just how nice she was.
For a lot of us, she was the first person to speak to us and welcome us to the community. As of the 28th of June she has no longer been with us. It's a very sad thing, although Kaityn was the kind of person who wouldn't want us to be upset with her not being here. That being said, in her honor we are working hard to write amazing new stories. Her memory will always be with us. Kaityn, we love you. ♥
Posted: Sep 29 2016, 11:13 PM
Jac ran and she ran and she ran until she was certain her lungs would rupture, until her stick-thin legs would buckle beneath her, until she would collapse to the earth with the bodies of the yelling men upon her.
But none such thing greeted her once her feet stopped pounding the asphalt that gave way to sparse patches of grass and dirt. Only when she heard no one at her back did she glance over her shoulder to steal a look of confirmation. Behind her, the streets were barren, dark, and mottled with flickering street lights and slow bodies that slithered away from her view. It had been late afternoon when she started her trek into the marketplace. Most vendors were packing up, swatting away the nagging children and starving persistent citizens. Jac was careful enough that they never paid attention to her. She had never been worth a second glance as her hungry eyes combed over the molded vegetables and soft fruits. They'd never noticed her, because she never gave them a chance.
The pull of her flux came on easily, disguising and hiding her as she made off with what she could without drawing attention. (Most would look twice at seemingly floating objects.) She had been growing more brave over time, and on this day in particular, decided to test her luck. She swooped up a bottle of liquor, tucked it into the folds of her ratty flannel, and darted out of the market's square before the hollering commotion could follow too close.
It was a foolish feat at best. She didn't allow herself time to adjust to the come down of her ability and instead, ran onward with a paranoia fueled by sheer panic. Tendrils of that detachment still clung to her as she leaned over, bracing herself against her knees to catch her breath. She couldn't recall exactly why she had came to the park, or if there had been reasoning at all to it. Perhaps in the chaos of her mind's confusion, it had been a straight shot. In her other hand she still clutched the whiskey around the bottle's neck so tightly, her bleached knuckles groaned with the loosening of their tension.
She had meant to go back to her place and settle in for the night. She would savor the amber liquid and perhaps share it with a couple of the Brats. Now, she wasn't so certain. Creeping the streets after dusk was not a wise decision. Sleeping in the park seemed all the less wiser. The heels of her boots dug into the soil as she thoughtfully mulled over what few options she had, starting towards a cluster of park equipment in the distance. The swing set, slide, and teeter-totter jutted from the ground like skeletons, all bleached pale in the moonlight.
Posted: Oct 11 2016, 06:11 PM
Little did she know she was still being followed, little did she know Law man had a personal bounty on her head, and he would see her caught if it was the last thing he did today.
The beast of a man had been stalking the streets for the last half hour in a hunt for the young woman whom had stolen a bottle of liquor. He was not doing this for glory or recognition, no; she had been a young, impressionable person, and the time to correct her behavior was now, before she was set into her mold, before she could harden into something so negative.
Nirvasull, unlike her, could not blend in so easily. He was known around Haven, very well known, and understood that there really weren't many that were in favor of him or those he worked for. He was Authority, he was a Watcher, it was his job to protect and dicipline the citizens of Haven. Yes they had been rejected from society, from mainstream Elisium where they could have been happy go lucky, with nothing to worry about, ever, but that did not mean Haven was allowed to fall into complete and total chaos. His job was to try and maintain some sort of order amongst the streets and the large populace of this island. It was no easy task, in fact he knew that it was impossible. He was essentially alone, as most of the other Watchers could not care less for the safety of the streets.
They were in it for themselves.
Spotting her from afar, the big male stopped at the other end of the block, gazing upon her fiercely, fiercely, as though a bear staring upon a rabid gazelle. He rumbled as he followed the sidewalk now, his brows furrowed together roughly, his glare as intense and his intentions rather clear; he was headed right for her, and he did not plan on letting her go so easily.
His own flux was one he had been working with for many years, decades even. She was young, she did not have as much practice as he; he could catch her, he simply needed to be creative about it.
He could wear her down. He would wear her down. Such was the nature of his strength; he had a lot of it, and it did not come out in short, simple bursts.
Posted: Oct 20 2016, 12:04 AM
She grew too comfortable too quickly. Once her eyes landed on the rusted bones of the park equipment, and nothing akin to danger pressed at her peripherals, she started forward.
Her hand was sore from clutching the bottle, but it still managed to twist off the tight cap before she stuffed it into the pocket of her worn leather coat. The fear had ebbed away. Her adrenaline was replaced by the tightly strung anxiety of nerves that pushed her to take a swig from the bottle. The liquid inside tasted hot and bitter, stinging her eyes and raking her throat all the way down. She'd recoiled back and stared at the label as if it would make any sense to her -- as if she would know of anything in particular to compare it to. At this point, alcohol was alcohol and the moment was all about enjoying her prize.
Lanky legs stretched over the swing set as she settled down into it -- back facing the city behind her -- to admire the view of the sprawling thicket of woods before her. The park felt like another world some times. She had not visited here enough, but when she sat with her lazy gaze adverted away from the crumbling buildings and structures behind her, she could pretend to be somewhere else entirely.
She took another pull from the bottle before kicking her feet from the ground. One hand clutched the chain of the swing as she started to sway. There was a flightly feeling jittering inside her stomach that pulled her back to the nostalgia of childhood. But that was not a place she wanted to be, so she drank again and kicked herself harder into the air, entirely unaware of the stranger at her pursuit.
Posted: Oct 25 2016, 05:55 PM
It would not take long for him to be close enough that he could quite literally grab her by the hair and yank her out of that swing if he wanted to. Not that he did, he would not engage in his own violent thoughts beyojd what was mostly neccessary. True, she had been running away with a bottle of stolen alcohol, and so the crime in itself had not been a terribly violent one. It had been petty, childish, worthy enough of a member of the Brats, which he was sure to find out if she was or not within the next few minutes he was sure.
In his total silence the large male sauntered his wayy fowards, joining her on the swings, and comically moving in so he could have himself a seat. Shockingly enough for a big individual as himself he made absolutely no sound when he moved. Not even his shoes crunched on the gravel, he held himself at a mysterious decibel level of below even the lithest of individuals.
What made up for the lack of kinetic sound was his voice, suddenly booming as he lifted words out of his chest, and into the air besides him. "Yer knohw, 'Ahvehn wouhl' be much behttehr eehf peohple laihke yer deehdn't puhll shehtteh treehcks.[/color] his tone a thick, obviously displeased growl, one that rattled the very air around him and her, vibrated the skin of his neck and chest slightly with every vocal exertion.
"Thehre's nohtheehn' wrohng weehth alcohohl, hahd yer noht stohlehn eeht, aye wouhldn't beh 'ehre. Eehn fahct, aye'd leahve yer ahlohne 'ahd yer noht taihkehn' whaht doehsn't behlohng ter yeh. Soh, weehth tgaht eehn maihnde, yer 'ahve 'er choihce..." the man trailed off for a second so he could pull out a small tin of cigarettes from inside a thick jacket. "Yer cahn eihther 'ahnd eeht ohvehr, 'n aye'll leahve yer beh, ohr yer cahn geehve meh 'er 'ahrd taihme, 'n sleehp weehth Stehve. Stehve beehn yer nehxt cehll mahte." he said, and looked back to her as he put the clove cigarette between his teeth, chewing on the end for a moment as he stares her down with his scarred face and his eyes that seemed to span centuries.
Posted: Dec 8 2016, 12:15 AM
What color remained instantly drained from her already pallid features. Her dark eyes widened, swallowing the shadows surrounding her, but it was not dark enough to disguise the bulking silhouette squatting like a giant to sit beside her. She nearly leaped from her own skin and ran away.
And then, that voice... That voice grated against her nerves, steeling her resolve and making her dig her heels into the sand, halting her swinging. Just moments ago, she had been nestling into the confines of her mind's comfort with the wind in her hair and the warmth of the liquor in her belly. Now, every fine hair along her arms stood on end as she readied herself for whatever dismay this stranger meant to bring. People didn't simply follow others in the dead of night unless they had unpleasant intentions. Instead, the man just kept talking. He talked and he talked with that voice that dug into her, filling her chest with the vibrations of his disappointing tone. He lectured her like a father would a child and it instantly pissed her off.
"What?" She narrowed her eyes to him, her biting words coming more from confusion now than fear. If he had meant her harm, he wouldn't be casually poking about, swaying his massive form in the swing next to her with legs likely as long as she was tall.
She couldn't quite make out his accent. It itched her ears and ached her brain, forcing her to strain to listen which was already more attention than she gave most. The quell of panic nagging her to run had ebbed away to curiosity now as she peered over to him, still clutching the bottle in her hand. For the time being, it had been forgotten despite his mentioning it. "Why do you talk like that?" In fact, she completely disregarded any of his words -- or what she could make of them -- and instead, her severe stare zeroed in on the bobbing cigarette pinched between his lips.
Posted: Dec 29 2016, 11:32 PM
Nirvasull wanted to be mad. He really did, and usually when asked such a question as to why he spoke the way he did it was an instant trigger into fury. But no, not this time, mostly for the reason that instead of mocking him she'd cut straight to the chase and asked him. There was no sneer, there was nothing but confusion in her pointed stare straight to his mouth.
What a bad watcher he made, he knew better then to let these folks know why he was the way he was. Quietly the big male paused, lifting a large hand to the right side of his face where there was a small click. The motion was repeated on the other ear, a minute snap as though a switch had been engaged, and he growled again.
"If yer smart enough yer'll figure it out." the tone he'd been using before instantly cleared into something more comprehensive. He knew that if he was going to be teaching her a lesson though beyond simple street fighting he'd need to turn off those cochlear implants. Only then could he harness himself to the full potential he carried.
"Back to ther point, yer stole that booze. And behcause yer didn' understan' me the first taime, Aye'll repeat myself once; give me ther bottle, 'n yer can go free. If yer don't, ther only place where yer'll be sittin' pretty is in a cell." the threat was real, he was significantly bigger then she was, and he would not hesitate to grab her by the throat and drag her if he needed to. Violence wasn't something he wanted to rely on too much, but.... he knew he could if he needed to.
It wouldn't be hard, he assumed, considering just how scarse she really was in terms of musculature and years of experience.
Posted: Jan 14 2017, 07:52 PM
Jac felt her expression crumble with understanding. The stitch between her brow softened as her jaw relaxed, even her steely gaze widened with wonder. In just a matter of a few gestures (button pushing? flip switching?) he was speaking in such a way that she could tolerate, only because the words made sense now.
Still, his threat fell on deaf ears. (No pun intended.) She looked away from him to stare at the very much, still full bottle in her hands, her thumb stroking the elegant script of it's label as she mulled over his words as if they were a real choice. The toes of her boots dug into the ground beneath her, trenching at the dirt as she hummed thoughtfully.
After a few moments, she glanced back to the stranger. Even in the darkness, it was plain to see he was much larger and obviously stronger than she. There would be little she could do but up and attempt to run from him -- but her lungs still ached with exhaustion. "Does said cell have food? And a mattress off the floor where rats won't nibble my ears?" She remarked sarcastically, obviously entertaining the option. It was clear he had no intention on leaving her be -- and she really did not intend on spending the rest of her worthless life in a cell over a bottle of alcohol.
She brought the bottle back to her lips and took a final, long pull from the liquid fire inside. It curled sourly in her stomach and left her unsettled. She hid her disgust in the crook of her arm where she wiped her lips one final time before capping the bottle. However, there was no motion to hand it over to him just yet. She wasn't finished. "Where I'm from, it's frowned upon to chase little girls around in a park."
Though dumb by design, but not entirely stupid, she quickly shoved the bottle towards him before he had a chance to lash out at her obvious lack of consent. She didn't know who, or what, he was but the reality of the situation was just that: she was a little girl hanging around outside in the dark, by herself.
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