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riahxoxo

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About riahxoxo

  • Rank
    Apprentice
  • Birthday 04/17/1999

Contact Methods

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    lydia.roberts99

Profile Information

  • Gender
  • Location
    Tennessee
  • Occupation
    being a human-shaped cat

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  1. Ventures in the Past

    Davin's disbelief and jealous fury was practically palpable, and her lips curved with the satisfaction of a scheme well-played. Goal achieved, Marjorie would have pulled away, but it was about then that a large hand came to encircle her waist, anchoring her in place. Unbidden, a sinful warmth spread generously throughout her body, drawing forth a surprised but contented sigh. She scarcely had time to wonder what this was that she was feeling than she was falling beneath the age old rhythm that played whenever men and women came together. Bluegrey hues shuttered half-closed and her arms lifted, tangling around the stranger's neck; she arched into his broad, strong chest, resting her elbows on his wide shoulders as her mouth was sweetly explored and tested, in a way that stirred curious feelings of .. tenderness? And then just as quickly as it had all begun, it ended: the same strong hands that had only moments before pulled her closer now setting her aside, as the stranger appeared to come to his senses. Marjorie would have done likewise, except she was all too aware of Davin's stare, boring wrathfully into her back. A discreet sideways glance confirmed that the troublesome pervert was indeed still nearby, watching them from his shaded post. Ugh. Unease skittered skeletal fingers down her spine when the corrupt Officer stepped forward, his beady eyes glowering beneath the rim of his hat. "You know, I'd hate to have to write the two of you up for tardiness," he remarked lowly, even as his expression suggested he wouldn't hate it at all. As if this were routine for them, Marjorie flashed her would-be boyfriend a sly smile and willed him to play along. She grabbed his hand and entwined their fingers together, squeezing once before whirling to face her father's goon. He did not get anything close to a smile---rather he received the sort of look that would have withered lesser men. "Oh, shut the fuck up, you shrew-faced dickweed," she hissed. "We're going. Aren't we, babe?"
  2. Ventures in the Past

    "You know, I really ought to take you in. A night in a jail cell might just do the trick to straighten your crooked little ass right out─" At the words, bitten lips writhed back from waxen incisors, in the sort of snarl one would expect to see on the grizzled snout of an old rabid stray dog──not the rosebud-shaped mouth of a young woman. But then again, when it came to this young woman in particular, such an opinion would depend on who you were to ask. Many locals would agree that Marjorie o' Seanáin had a lot in common with rabid stray dogs, as far as attitude was concerned. A hard tug, to no avail; her arm is stuck fast in the enforcer's sweaty, too tight grip. Irritation begins to boil red-hot at the whole situation, prompting the snarling lips to slant edgewise in a fiercely defiant sneer. "You really ought to stop thinking about my ass, Davin. I don't turn eighteen for another six months---what would your colleagues think? And besides, I have a boyfriend." Davin's eyes narrow into beady slits and he lets out a low scoff, clearly disbelieving. "Like hell you do." Of course she was going to have to sell this. Tossing her head, Marjorie angles jewel-like grey eyes up at her stepfather's friend in an affronted expression. "I do, actually." "Who?" he challenges. "Oh, you wouldn't know him," she deflects neatly, scanning the nearby crowd for a would-be boyfriend. No, no, no .. ah, yes, her mind singsongs as a pair of broad shoulders and tousled black hair come into view. The bewildered, utterly lost look on his face practically begged Marjorie to give him purpose. Oh, perfect. Please don't "Look, it's been great chatting with you and all, Davin, but my boyfriend and I are going to be late for school .." This time, she twists out of Davin's grip with relative ease due to its surprise-induced slack and leaves him standing on the other side of the street, as she makes a beeline for her new beau. Unfortunately, the charade couldn't just end here. Not if she wanted to really sell it and get the perverted asshole off her back for good. She reaches the dark-haired boy's side quickly, theatrical eagerness propelling her step. It's with equal vigor that she lifts a hand to cup his cheek and, bouncing onto her toes, presses an open mouth to his own in the sort of kiss that has prudish mothers nearby clearing their throats and old farmers whistling appreciatively. The hand on his cheek slides around his jawline, pushing slender fingers into the sweat-slicked mane curling at his throat.
  3. Pictures of Us

    one of the few photos from my graduation shoot that i actually like
  4. What is it that pushes your character?

    What pushes my characters? Why, whatever the fuck I want.
  5. Tavern of Legend OOC

    omg acies pls make an exception i can be a mentor person or some shit ;)
  6. Tavern of Legend OOC

    @supernal even though i'm not a newb, i can rp in TOL, right?
  7. Quest: Hounds and Helping Hands

    I'm still going to be involved (barring any opposition from the OP @Grimmholt). Just waiting for the right opportunity to insert Barnabas.
  8. Quest: Hounds and Helping Hands

    you had me at hounds can i play an asshole cat
    • hey dickhead come rp with me
    1. Show previous comments  1 more
    2. riahxoxo

      riahxoxo

      NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

    3. Die Shize

      Die Shize

      BUT FOR YOU I JUST MIGHT MAKE AN EXCEPTION MY LONG LOST SOMETHING OR OTHER

    4. riahxoxo

      riahxoxo

      YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS

  9. [Closed] Looking for a sparring partner

    i wanna fight, too ! >:D < insert fucking funny cat fighting gif here >
  10. just another blood bank

    ┌──────✮☆✮──────┐ barnabas └──────✮☆✮──────┘ ╭ — ╮ general ╰ — ╯ clan — none ; mafia rank — boss past names — none nicknames — barney, barn, the barnabas™ gender — male age — 6 years catchphrase — "i don't give a shit" breed — rumpy manx [pic] ╭ — ╮ physical ╰ — ╯ pelt color — black texture — coarse; tangles easily length — medium markings — silver ruff creeping in around his neck, due to age tail features — doesn't have one, see breed pad & nose colors — peach claws — long; yellowed scars — ears are notched/tattered eye color — orange-amber, amber-golden symbol — other — is microchipped [pic] ╭ — ╮ personality ╰ — ╯ detailed persona — he's like rocco, but he's even more of a douche and has a cruel streak. sometimes it seems like he doesn't have an actual conscience; he just acts on instinct. likes — hunting, fighting, killing, order, loyalty, winning, purina fancy feast dislikes — weakness, dishonesty, ignorance, stupidity, traitors, laziness, cages seen by others — most cats who come into contact with barnabas usually realize pretty quickly that he's just plain mean. he values strength and power above kindness and humility; he rarely if ever censors himself for the sake of others, caring very little about others' feelings. as a notorious mafia boss, barnabas often commands respect simply by his long-standing reputation. every city cat knows him and his associates—even a few outsiders are aware of his empire. representation — i play barnabas as close to an actual feral cat as possible. i do nothing to soften him and will only censor him in order to comply with the community's rules. he uses human curse words, but understands very little about them as a species; they're two-legs and are shrouded in mystery to him, despite his many encounters and entwined history with them.
  11. just another blood bank

    ↯ IDENTITY ⌁ NAME ≠ JACK AKA ≠ "THAT FUCKING CAT", "PIECE OF SHIT", "ASSHOLE" GENDER ≠ MALE SPECIES ≠ FELIS CATUS BREED ≠ MANX AGE ≠ OLD AS FUCK D.O.B ≠ NO CLUE OCCUPATION ≠ BEING A FUCKING BALLER LOCATION ≠ WHEREVER THE FEMALES ARE
  12. just another blood bank

    omg ssh i went to bed
  13. just another blood bank

    NAME jack GENDER male SPECIES felis catus AGE unknown DESCRIPTION if one were only to glance at jack, they would make the assumption that he's just an old, travel-worn tomcat. perhaps fourteen, if not older, and his stiff-legged gait suggests that the years have taken up in his very bones. shaggy marbled fur hangs limply from his large, emaciated frame, visibly flea-ridden and scarred. he's HISTORY
  14. just another blood bank

    I mean, character bank. Repository. Database. Whatever. Fuck catchy titles, man. You'll find all my characters and like-minded shit here.
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