Justin Prada Audtion.
Justin awoke early the next morning to be greeted by the sight of his cream coloured ceiling. He sighed and closed his eyes, as if hoping he could get a couple more hours sleep. Alas his mind decided it was time to get up. He turned onto his side, fingers delicately picking at his cotton pillow, the break of dawn shone through the window casting a warm light on his back. He lay there for a few minutes, just calmly allowing himself to succumb to the heat of the new day. The house was silent, deathly silent, usually he would have been troubled by such a notion but it was still early, his children no doubt still in bed. After a couple more moments he slowly rose from the bed, running a hand through his hair to try and soften it down. He allowed his body to slowly get used to movement before he pushed up from the bed and onto his feet. The cold floor sent a tingle up his legs making him shiver. He blinked his dry eyes hoping to get rid of the sleep in them and let out a low solemn sigh. Just another day he guessed. As he walked out of his room he noticed his children’s door wide open, he slowly made his way across the landed and into the room, a wave of panic took over him as he saw their beds were empty. “What”? He called out loud, spinning around on his heels and darting down the stairs. He called out his children’s names, when no one answered he felt his heart sink and his body become stiff. A sense of dread over took his mind blurring his vision. He ran from room to room, chanting his kid’s names, each second cut into him deeper and deeper until he was nothing but a shivering wreck. They were gone, they were gone? He clutched his head, nails pricking the skin of his scalp. Where were they? He dropped to his knees, laboured breathing rasping out of his mouth, his struggled breaths occasionally coming out in the form of sobs, biting against his lips. He screamed out their names one last time, but all he was met with was cold empty air. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and flexed and unflexed his fingers quickly, his hands jerking along with the motion. In a fit of anger he punched both his fists to the floor, knuckles cracking on contact with the hard wood. “Damn it…damn it….damn it..”. He hit the floor over and over again, his teeth clenching tighter together with each hit, the pain was above him, his mind to over whelmed with anger to care. He dropped forwards, head hitting the floor as well, his fists now more taping than striking the wood. Flecks of blood seeped into the graining of the wood, his knuckles red and raw, split down the middle. He needed to scream at something, his body shook with uncontrollable rage. He pushed himself off the floor, wobbling a little, his nausea causing him to loose balance. “No….I don’t accept this”. His body went firm, his finger curled into his palms until he was tensioning his fists so tightly he could feel his nails pierce the soft skin of his palm. Whoever had done this wouldn’t get away with it, he’d hunt them down, they couldn’t have gotten far in the six hours he had been asleep. He immediately began to look around for clues, his eyes snapped to the front window. He walked over and pressed his face against it, looking outside. His eyes rested on marks outside, marks that hadn’t been there last night. He could have smiled. He quickly grabbed his coat and shoes and walked outside. Inspecting the marks closer he saw they lead somewhere. He swallowed hard to hide his emotions, then, without a second though, he set off following them. And when he found the culprits who had taken his children, he would make them pay, dearly. He almost laughed at the thought, as he imagined. He would get his children first and make sure they were ok, then, once they were safely out of the way. He would make the kidnappers wish that he had killed them long ago. He wasn’t known for his mercy, or his patience, he cared about little, but what he did care about meant the world to him. And people who hurt that world tended to find their lives come to a rather painful end.
|Perfect, I just need a little more 'insane anger' near teh middle when he discoveres his children gone, and a little less description in the begining. but otherwise, PERFECT|
|Written By: [benjiNOmore]|
Justin sat in his favorite over-stuffed Lazy Boy recliner, reading an old book by the fire. It was around three-thirty when he scrambled up his belonging and headed for bed. As he trumped up the stairs, he pasted his children’s rooms. With a slight smile, thinking they would be fast asleep in their cozy beds, he left the door shut and tiptoed to his room, in attempt to not wake the children. As he crawled into bed, looking over to where his beloved slept, it was empty. Of course, Transia had been kidnapped a while back, and he practically went mad because of it. He search night and day for her, yet wouldn’t stray far from home for his children’s sake. They we’re all he had left of Transia now, and if anything ever happened to them…his anger stirred within in him. Now leaping up to go check on his treasure, he trudged over to his door and yanked it open, again tiptoeing towards his children’s room. Once he approached, he called in hushed tones, while he creaked open the door, “Children?” He glanced around the room, yet there was no sight of them. Outraged he threw the door open. His wide eyes darted around the room again, “CHILDREN?!?!” he called, now stomping around the room, tearing everything apart in attempt frenzy to find them. Indeed they, his little angels. They, his treasure. THEY, his pride and joy have gone missing in action! His blood boiled, his anger overwhelmed him. Everything seemed to crumble around him! In a fit of anger, screamed and pounded everything that was in his way. As he kicked, punched, and broke his children’s belongings, he knew this wouldn’t help him, not ever, not now. Justin ripped apart his children’s bed, again in attempt to find them somehow within the cushions. Blankets, pillows, and feathers flew everywhere. Justin’s anger boiled as bad as his blood, he was seeing red. In finding nothing but bed, he jerked up and bellowed out of frustration “AHHHHHHHHHHHH
|Deffianantly work on teh cold ness, less drunkeness.... etc ^^ but othewise, very very good~|
2009-03-11 [Rice]: You've somewhat confused me with this, what exactly do I have to do?
The wiki name and audition bit..what goes where because they sound like the same thing.
2009-03-11 [Rook.]: You audition on what you would do if you were the tyrant Justin Prada
2009-03-11 [Rook.]: and this audition is what YOU would do if you were JUSTIN... teh other is what youwould doif you were just rping.
2009-03-11 [Rice]: I mean the format.
What goes where..
2009-03-11 [Rook.]: the format... I'll make a example here in a sec...
You send me the audition, and I'll post them against any other person's audition, andthen I'll choose basing on the personality that I feel in it.
2009-03-11 [Rice]: Ok..I'm nearly done.
2009-03-11 [Rook.]: Its great !!
2009-03-11 [Rice]: Should I add some more crazy anger in now? Just a little?
2009-03-11 [Rook.]: sure thing.
2009-03-11 [Rice]: Ok ad this between 'but all he was met with was cold empty air. ___________ . He pushed himself off the floor...
'He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and flexed and unflexed his fingers quickly, his hands jerking along with the motion. In a fit of anger he punched both his fists to the floor, knuckles cracking on contact with the hard wood. “Damn it…damn it….damn it..”. He hit the floor over and over again, his teeth clenching tighter together with each hit, the pain was above him, his mind to over whelmed with anger to care. He dropped forwards, head hitting the floor as well, his fists now more taping than striking the wood. Flecks of blood seeped into the graining of the wood, his knuckles red and raw, split down the middle. He needed to scream at something, his body shook with uncontrollable rage. '
2009-03-11 [Rook.]: uuuhm, Keys... my mouse is acting funny, could you add it?? I can't copy it to save my life, adn when I click, it either boots teh page forard ro backwards... :S
2009-03-28 [benjiNOmore]: I want to play this part, yet i dont think i can be Cold, Harder, Darker, Stoicier, Insaner, angrier, Apatheticer, or Misanthropier, than Keyster.. *smiles wickedly*..BUT i got the sexi evil smile down pact!
2009-03-28 [¡Soy Bekah!]: *laughs* thats mean. but hers was serously good. Im sure you'll do fine ben ^^
2009-04-01 [benjiNOmore]: That drunkiness, is insanity! But thank you. I Had fun.