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  1. Decline

    Realistic or Modern The Dead Are Walking -Roleplay-

    "Micah." The man had replied somewhat shakily but was relieved when the man had offered him a bottle of water. It was sealed, which had always been a pleasant sign. Quickly his fingers worked the lid. The cool refreshing taste of water reached his lips before down the back of his throat before...
  2. Decline

    Realistic or Modern The Dead Are Walking -Roleplay-

    The sound of the woman attempting to smother his guilt like the oxygen from an uncontrollable wild fire had been comforting. It was hard for him to focus, as every time his eyes closed and opened he’d be in a different location. Micah had been fatigued and slipped in and out of consciences but...
  3. Decline

    Realistic or Modern The Dead Are Walking -Roleplay-

    Everything had been happening far too quickly for him to be able to understand fully of what was going on. The man that helped dress his impaled wound upon his lower left abdomen had been popping shots that illuminated the odd lifeless face that began to surround them. Regret and guilt had taken...
  4. Decline

    Realistic or Modern The Dead Are Walking -Roleplay-

    It was hard to describe the feelings and sensations that surged through his mind as his laughter eased itself into soft guttering whimpers of discomfort. The sound of the alarm had dimmed and he had convinced himself that it was due to the battery of the truck. Though in reality his senses had...
  5. Decline

    Roleplay Pet Peeves

    I’m not going to lie, I haven’t read through everyone’s pet peeves so I apologise if it’s been mentioned before but the one thing that I absolutely hate is what I call “ghosting”. You construct and lay down foundations and are able to write a few posts back and forth and then poof. They...
  6. Decline

    Realistic or Modern The Dead Are Walking -Roleplay-

    It wasn’t a quiet thud as the man fell against the truck that had not long since parked up, his shoulder taking brunt of the impact as he let out a small holler of discomfort. His dominant right hand stayed firm over the punctured wound that continued to seep that deep crimson liquid that flowed...
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