Jump to content

VOLK SIZOV | LONE WOLF


votefortaco

Recommended Posts

sleep1.thumb.png.90d2aabdf9d1487ac6607d56692fc271.png

 

G U I D E  L I N E S

 

-This thread will follow the standalone adventures of Volk Sizov.
-No sensitive faction related roleplay will be posted here.
-These posts will not be in any sort of chronological order.
-The posts will be backstory oriented / interactions with the current world / excerpts.
-Certain details may be excluded at points to combat meta gaming.
-Some posts will purely be screenshots with no other context.
-All screenshots are taken on the server unless otherwise stated.

 

-Volk, as much as he is entertainment to myself, was conceived as a way to bring quality roleplay to others.
-He should help shape other people's plots in varying degrees and help round out the world at all times.
-Value should always be added, whether positive or negative, to everyone's story that his path crosses.
-This character is my way of continuing the depth of my six-year LSRP character, Volchitsa Sizov, through spirit.

 

-BUMPS and COMMENTS are welcomed and appreciated.

 

T H E M E S

 

Spoiler

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Edited by votefortaco
  • Upvote 8
Link to comment

ACTIVE ROLEPLAY

D I S P O S A L


V9tfeFV.png

Volk’s features crept into a grim line, eyes as motionless as the many billboard posters littered in the sky. He had all the emotion of wet concrete, facial muscles just as loose. There was no anger, no sadness - no shock or excitement. He didn’t even appear horrified by the scene, as that at least would have been something. For all the presence he brought to the subsequent atmosphere he might as well have been a store mannequin.
 

WE5bgmr.png

The scene had reached its crescendo in mere seconds and the aftermath laid inside the trunk like a broken doll. Volk had little sentimentality for the dead. A corpse was a corpse unless someone who loved them entered the room. Honestly, he thought it was easier to not think of them as people at all. Only mere husks for the soul that leaked past their teeth and over freshly cold lips, escaping as if it never knew it was welcome to stay. 

 

DUA5j0U.png

A flip of the old canister sent waves of pungent gasoline onto the sun-bleached earth. The flames that consumed demanded everything was reduced to ashes, the heat radiating outward as it consumed the evidence into something molten and foul. A short conversation confirmed everything was ‘taken care of’ before the cellphone joined the ever growing fire.

 

Edited by votefortaco
Link to comment

ACTIVE ROLEPLAY

P R O W L I N G


QTtwYnM.png

The fiery orb of day slowly crept beneath the horizon, casting threads of light to linger in the sky, mingling with the rolling clouds. It dyed the canvas first amber, then scarlet - until all that was left was a chalky mauve. All melted away in turn as inky darkness consumed the sky.

 

4cNgC9d.png

The inner city grew out from the cracked sidewalk like the jagged gap-toothed grin of a Grand Senora junkie. The only splash of color in the grime came from the lurid graffiti and neon lights. Below him laid a road of monochrome patchwork, each lined with a shiny border of fresh tar.

 

20xU3KH.png

The path he took, for the most part, was still scattered with the litter of the previous day and debris of abscission. Wires hung from building to building, dangling at a great height, beyond the regard of pedestrians who crawled, belly down, from destination to destination.

 

 

 

Edited by votefortaco
Link to comment

ACTIVE ROLEPLAY

C H A O S


6cuoPjt.png

 

беспредел

(bes-pre-dél)

 

This Russian term is close to the English words “lawlessness” and “arbitrariness.” It indicates a complete rejection of any and all rules. Its literal meaning being “without restrictions or limits” - however, the implication is much broader, referring to the behavior of a person who violates not only the law, but also moral and social norms.

 

Hr5Kqdf.png

Edited by votefortaco
Link to comment

ACTIVE ROLEPLAY

D R I F T


WTl4cyG.png

 

Once more did a cloudy night invite itself into the city, strangling the stygian sky. Rolling grey nimbly spread, becoming as invisible as the stars it concealed, blanketing the humid post-shower air against the world with thick puffs of haze. The moon still fought to shine through the stubborn thickets of cotton, giving the road a hazy, ominous feel.

 

vWb9IDW.png

Edited by votefortaco
Link to comment

ACTIVE ROLEPLAY

T I M E


J3sv1cy.png

 

тоска

(tas-'ka)

 

This word roughly translates as a deep, wordless emotional pain or melancholy - it is more akin to a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. Native speakers will claim that no Russian can possibly understand its depth. A dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing in particular to long for. A vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. 

 

igwhm9v.png

Edited by votefortaco
Link to comment
Guest
This topic is now closed to further replies.
×
×
  • Create New...