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Ravenwood

06/19/2022 12:59 PM 

Alicia Richardson(NPC)

Name: Alicia Jane Richardson Nickname(s): The Counselor Hair: Long, straight brunette hair that stops right after her shoulders Eye Color: An emerald green Height: She stands at 5’7 Weight: 137 pounds Body Type: Curvy Age: 36 Occupation: Student counselor at the prestigious Ravenwood Academy Family: There isn’t much known about Ms. Richardson. She is one that doesn’t really ever speak of her family or home life, but if she ever does mention such things, it’s normally her speaking of her twin siamese cats; Yin and Yang Current Story: Alicia Richardson is currently working at The University of Ravenwood and has been for the past five years. When the first of the murders began to happen on campus, Ms. Richardson had a rather odd calmness to her. She knows a lot of Ravenwood’s past and when it comes to speaking with her, one cannot ever tell if she truly wants to help you or if there is something more sinister to her motives.

Ravenwood

06/19/2022 12:51 PM 

Juniper Stone(NPC)

Name: Juniper Willow Stone Nickname(s): June-bug, Juney, June, (Olivia’s best childhood friend) Hair: Short, curly brunette hair that kisses the nape of her neck, her bangs are side swept from her face Eye Color: A marvelous bright blue Height: She stands at 5’4 Weight: 118 pounds Body Type: Slender and trim Age: 19 Occupation: College student at the prestigious Ravenwood Academy Family: Born from a poor family, Juniper is surrounded by her working mother and her older brother. She does not know whom her father is. Her older brother, Michael, is currently traveling the states while her mother stays at home, working two jobs to pay for her daughter’s tuition. They do not have any pets. Current Story: Juniper Stone is currently attending The University of Ravenwood. A free spirit and head in the clouds kind of gal. If she isn’t seen connected to Olivia Ravenwood’s hip, you can generally find her in the art room, doing something creative and imaginative with her mind. Though innocent looking, do not be deceived. Her and Olivia hold more secrets than one would think.

Ravenwood

06/19/2022 12:49 PM 

Cleo Connely(NPC)

Name: Cleo Abigail Connely Nickname(s): Mean Girl Hair: Beautiful straight ebony hair that goes to her mid-back Eye Color: Light brown with a mix of grey Height: She stands at 5’6 Weight: Hahaha~ Body Type: Athletic Age: 21 Occupation: College student at the prestigious Ravenwood Academy Family: The Connely’s are one of the first families to reside in Ravenwood. Cleo’s mother had left the family when she was only 5. Her father focused more on his business, causing Cleo to be raised by her maids. She had never had to face true parental punishment. She has a pet ferret named Jewel. Current Story: Cleo Connely is currently attending The Ravenwood University. There is a well known rivalry between her and Olivia Ravenwood. One of Cleo’s close friends had been murdered on Ravenwood campus their freshman year. Cleo holds hate and resentment towards Olivia for the lost of her friend. Why though? Did Olivia know more than she claimed? Or is Cleo just holding a hateful grudge?

𝒮𝒰𝒩𝒮𝐻𝐼𝒩𝐸

06/18/2022 08:53 PM 

The Observer.

"I know that I am impure. He made me that way... but it wasn't on purpose."Name: The ObserverAlso Known As: "Charlotte"Age: ??? ('Infinite')DoB: 3/5/13 [?]Gender: FemaleRace: CatHeight: 7'0"/213cmBuild: StockyDemeanor: Peaceful, silentAdd-on: SENECA/PSIPersonality: The Observer is very naive. However, she tries her best to do what she feels is right to keep the world safe from danger, even if most people don't quite take her seriously. The Observer is especially determined and strong-willed. She chooses to use her wits over her abilities, though that doesn't mean that she's weak at all. She is presented as the longest-lasting battle in the UNKNOWN timeline and one of the hardest battles in HOME.Appearance: The Observer has the appearance of a small, almost cartoon-like, coal-black kitten. Her eyes, which are far too big for her head, have a permanent look of sheer terror and her mouth is always left open in awe or fear. In her true form, she adopts a more anthropomorphic look, granting her a considerable boost in power, she also wears a red dress, akin to a princess of some sort. -Likes-Humans and HumanityWatching the StarsKnittingZack-Trivia-Charlotte [alias. The Observer] or (as seen in HOME) The Witness, is a small, round and chubby Oncilla. Despite its young and harmless appearance, The Observer is the wisest entity in the world she resides. She appears in the UNKNOWN timeline as well as the CLUELESS timeline, and HOME. This makes The Observer the first character that hasn't appeared in the original timeline but has made appearances in multiple timelines.

M.C. RP

06/18/2022 08:05 PM 

Character Biographies (Formatted for mobile)

I do recommend the brothers going out in pairs, but ultimately the choice is yours. Weicht "Wrei" NatharaAge: Early to Mid 20'sEye color: #5ac3e3 (lt. blue)Hair: #f2f9ff (milk white)Skin: #f0ddd6 (fair/lt. peach)Does the character drink regularly? No, sociallyDoes the character smoke? No, asthmaticHeight: 6’3”Snobby pretty boy who will snark at your choice of shoesand defend you to the death against strangers.Ideal Settings: Somewhere and Somewhenhe can be a Prince- Or claw the eyes outof the current Prince and ascend their throne sans consequences, obvi.(Default naga - has magic)__________________________________________Tillian "Tilly" Diri-RuneAge: Late teens to Mid 20'sEye color: #678892 (gray blue)Hair: (opalescent white)Skin: #ad928b (sallow sunkissed)Does the character drink regularly?Never had a single drinkDoes the character smoke? Never onceHeight: 5’11”Soft, gentle boy with a pervasive darkness inside.Ideal Settings: Somewhen slow paced orwith deliberate pockets of direct interaction. (Default werewolf(ish) - has magic)__________________________________________Taeriun "Tae" Diri-RuneAge: Mid to Late 20'sEye color: #e6c377 (yellow)Hair: #b0b1b5 (dove gray)Skin: #b77d70 (tan)Does the character drink regularly? OccasionallyDoes the character smoke?Dislikes but weak to peer pressureHeight: 6’2”Frat Boy energy. Thinks he's a Himbo. Ideal Settings: Somewhen noisy, action packed,where he can take charge and fail spectacularly.(Default werewolf - no magic)__________________________________________DunnAge: Mid to Late 20'sEye color: #ab9313 (amber)Hair: #???Skin: #???Does the character drink regularly? ???Does the character smoke? ???Height: 6’6”Prefers to be nonverbal and thus appearsmysterious when really he's just a grump. Ideal Settings: Bodyguard, Anti Hero,Reluctant Sidekick. (Default human - no magic?)__________________________________________Vaethelian - ValAge: Early to Mid 20'sEye color: #9d32a1 (bright violet)Hair: #151221 (deep blue black)Skin: #fae6d1 (pale*)Does the character drink regularly? NoDoes the character smoke? MaybeHeight: 5’8”Never met a fight he wasn't willing to headbutt. *Secretly fantastic with cosmetics.Ideal Settings: Somewhen a troublemaker won'timmediately be hanged for crimesand generally disturbing the peace.(Default dragon - limited magic)__________________________________________Eundroe (E-uhnd-row)Age: Late 20's to Mid 30'sEye color: #68751e (moss green)Hair: #3c463e (gray emerald green)Skin: #c7b5a9 (cool fair)Does the character drink regularly? YesDoes the character smoke? RarelyHeight: 7’9”Shy giant who loves nature. Ideal Settings: Somewhen an Assistant, Medic,Mom Friend type is useful.(Default dragon - very magical)__________________________________________Aiden "Desdemona" WreignAge: Late 20's to Early 30'sEye color: #818c6b (hazy peridot)Hair: #e8d004 (blond)Skin: #99632b (midtone tan)Does the character drink regularly? NoDoes the character smoke? NoHeight: 6'7”Flamboyant bisexual. Will kill for love.Will kill for sport. Has killed unintentionally.  Ideal Settings: Hiring an assasin, being pursued by an assasin, rivals chasingsame target, Innocent A & Devilish B trope(Default Syphoner - somewhat magical)__________________________________________Adrastos "Adarra" ImamuraAge: Early to Late 20'sEye color: #2b9183 (cyan teal)Hair: (strawberry blond)Skin: #cd9b6b (light tan w/freckles)Does the character drink regularly? YesDoes the character smoke? YesHeight: 6’0”Clumsy, shy, clingy type.Keep your hands at thelevel of your eyes. His too. Ideal Settings: Just about anywhere/when(Default Shapeshifter - no other magic)

characters, MCRP, cheatsheet, info, brief

darkness prevails.

06/17/2022 07:17 PM 

Rules & Guidelines
Current mood:  accomplished

Rules && Guidelines. - I am a paragraph/multiple paragraph writer and I write in the third person format. This means I will be using complete sentences, proper grammar, proper spelling and punctuation but please don't think I am a nazi - all I ask for is to be able to understand what I am reading on my screen.- you must be 18 or older to interact with me. I do not roleplay with younger kids or characters. Karou is an adult and won't be interested in minors in any way shape or form so please don't try anything nasty or perverted. - I run a multi-ship love interest. It is unique to every roleplay. I do not have mains as I think that starts a lot of drama, headache, and situations I don't like to find myself in.- don't rush me. I do not always have time to be online; please respect that.- don't be rude if I don't want to date you. I didn't come here for smut roleplaying.- do not steal or cause drama here. I'm an adult and don't have time for high school he-said-she said bullsh*t.- effort must be made within the storyline I don't want to be the only one to come up with ideas, but I will participate and provide some for us to work on together. - no, I don't have a discord! I don't like instant messaging! - no one-liner's! I'm not saying you h ave to write a book, with huge detail replies I just want something to work with.Roleplay list more will be added soon: (open for other ideas)- Vampires. - Crime and Mafia.- Cop and Criminal- Private Investigator  / Criminal- Cheating Wife - Police Officer.- CEO of business - southside trash- southside trash and ceo's brother. - Demi-god and mortal. - gods and mortals.- vampires and mortals.-  demons and mortals.- half demons and mortals. - half demons and half demons.- angel and human- angel and demon. - demon and human. - vampire and vampire. - sorceror and sorceress- feudal and fantasy- feudal and modern. - princess and knight - king and queen. - prince and slave. - jock and nerd/goth. - boss/employee. - teacher/student. - nun/demon.- student and exchange student. - master and maid- police officer and prostitute - butler and mistress.

𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚅𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚝

06/17/2022 04:54 PM 

The Doki Doki Catalogues

{This work is a homage to Alex Kister's Mandela Catalogue series. If you are unfamiliar, I highly reccomend you check it out, if only for context! For a brief summary, the world is being taken over by creatures called 'Alternates', meant to take a person's place in reality so they mentlly assault their victim until they are 'out of the picture' to take their place. Oh and Satan killed God back in the age of Jesus to run this army of demons :) }Yuri stared at the television set, her pencil clutched firmly in her fist. It had been off moments before. It was off she swear it she turned it off she turned it off she-White static filled the dark room, illuminating the shadowy corners, reflecting in wide purple hues. Eyes that couldn't look away. Time paused like a grain of sand defying gravity in its hourglass.Suspended.Floating.What a peaceful image.Something she wished she could cling to. All she had been occupying her time with was idle prose, scratching words on a paper to present to her peers the following morning. Oh how she'd love to see the morning sun just once more.But the sharp blade of reality twisted in her gut. This was no time for fantasy. With quivering breath, she reached out a hand to grasp the remote for the television. The damned thing hardly got any use anyway. What a cruel twist of irony it would be that the appliance least used, was the end of her.But it would not.Click...clickclickclickNothing. The grating sound kept pounding the insides of her skull with the dread it carried. "Please. Please please, I can't, I can't-""Hello?"A voice, a voice so starkly familiar Yuri jerked from her tearful trance. It all blended together in a blur of white and black, of things slithering just beyond her view and whispers sweetly caressing her strained mind. They told her things, things no human should know. Things to drive her to the brink of madness."Yuri? Yuri please, let me in in in in ininin-"She clapped her hands over her ears, jaw grit so tightly she feared she may break a tooth. Sayori's sugar sweet voice wafted from the front door, caught like a broken cassette on it's last word. They had gotten her, oh god of course they had gotten her. The girl didn't stand a fighting chance against them. Head nearly splitting in two, she let out a cry of anguish and gripped at her hair, trying to will the whispers of temptation out of her mind.Her knife, she could stab it. But could she bring herself to kill the visage of one of her closest friends? Could she handle the sight of blood spilling down her rosy cheeks, the smile fading from her face as she looked into her gaze?She retched, stumbling to her feet as sweat dripped down her back. If she was going to die, she was going to take this thing out with her. Pale fingers landed to steady herself on the television set, now warm as it continued its tinny of sound. But another voice arose, joining the cacophony of sound."Bad decision, Yuri."Like she had touched a hot iron, she jerked back in the illusion of pain. Surrounded on both sides, a figure cloaked in black appeared on the screen. Face warped beyond recognition of a human, but a girl, nonetheless. It crooned from its screened prison. Sayori...no...that thing, still pounded on the door and wailed to be let in, that it was cold, they were going to get her."Let her in. Let your dear, dear friend in. Why won't you let her in?""That's not her!""How are you so sure?"How...how could she be sure? Breath picked up pace as she stumbled to the door, knife clutched in one hand like her final saving grace. She could open it. She could open it and see for herself. But the high whining form the door drilled the truth back into her mind. Like an electric malfunction. She could hardly stand it. She was surrounded on all sides.This was it. It was in her home. They all waited for her demise. Oh what a cruel world. Yuri could wax poetic about it endlessly if the very threads of her reality were not pulling apart at the seams. Her manic hues pierced the static on the televison set, making direct eye contact with the horrid picture on the screen. It...smiled? It smiled, but it had no lips. It cooed with no tongue.God, she must scream, but she found herself with no air to do so. Instead, a trembling laugh arose, a pained, horrid thing. The laugh of a girl who knows this is her last. It grew in volume. It became a screaming gasp for release. And yet she laughed, she laughed and laughed until she couldn't anymore, until her mind was empty from all things she wished never to know. They wouldn't have her. They wouldn't have the joy of seeing her slowly degrade before their eyes. She would escape.ShewasFREE. 

Ⱎᗅⵢᗅ𐌇𐌠 ϺᗅϺ𐌠

06/16/2022 09:35 PM 

Rules & Boundaries
Current mood:  hopeful

About The MunThe only information being divulged about the writer behind the character(s) on this account21+ - They/Them - Eastern Time - Discord User; Banter/RP only - Works 40 Hours A WeekI am here to roleplay. Not chat ooc and make friends.Discord: Banter/Roleplay/S--t [with chemistry only]Comments: GreetingsMessages: RoleplayStatus: Updates1: Real life. Roleplay. See how they're separated by periods? Let's keep it that way. Muse x Muse  Mun x Mun2: Do not rush me. I work 40 hour weeks and barely manage to chat with those I hold dear on Discord afterwards. Expecting me to muster up enough energy to log on here and dish out full roleplay replies is preposterous. 3: Deleting & Ghosting: Please feel free to delete me for whatever reason you see fit. I'm completely serious. No one should ever feel any sort of obligation to keep someone on their friends list for any reason. I've been on both ends of that stick and yeah. Honestly it really stinks if you have a roleplay going with someone and you enjoy it so much. And then suddenly that person is completely gone out of your life. But ya know? C'est la vie, mon cheri.4: Drama. Do I have someone on my friends list that you have beef with? Cool beans. That's between you and them. The people I choose to keep on my friends list haven't "done me dirty". So I intend to continue enjoying their company. Got a problem with it? You can leave.5: Please be aware that my character(s) may have dark pasts. This includes major heavy triggers from childhood abuse, sexual trauma, mental illnesses, self harm, etc. These may be brought up in detailed flashbacks in roleplays or written in their actual bios. If you notice these things in their bios and they have a negative impact on your mental health. I politely implore you to choose another character to write with. Your mental well-being should be your priority.6: This account is mainly for Ziva. She is the main role I play here. But I do also have npc's that I am going to create small bios for as well as have albums for. If for any reason you're more interested in one of the npc's, please let me know. I don't at all mind writing as them with you. I adore them and would love for them to get some love too!Thank you for reading this blog. I hope that we are able to write and enjoy some wonderfully woven stories together in the near future!Please note that if I make updates to this blog. I will post the link in a status update with a notification as to what was updated so that you may take another peak should you wish to do so to stay informed.

Boundaries, Triggers, Rules

pretty bird (Taken)

06/16/2022 02:49 PM 

hand-holding

The nose “kisses” made her grin. He was an adorable dork. Then there was a lot of movement. Raising hands, twirling, fingers intertwined. Carol wasn’t entirely sure of what to do next but Hal did and she let Hal take control….for this moment. He knew what he was doing and she’d need to follow his lead if she didn’t want to fall on her face. “I like it a lot” she murmured. Nothing loud was needed since they were close again, cheek to cheek. “It’s nice.” His hands fell away from hers. Fingertips grazing across the beautifully soft dress she wore and dragged his hands to her backside. Hal definitely took his time as they swayed together under the tree branches that rustled in the light wind. Hal squeezed affectionately before pushing her hips to compete the twirl. His eyes sparkled over a cheeky grin. He was that kind of person. The touchy-feely, nose kissing, hands exploring, physical touches kind of person. There was not better way to tell Carol what he thought of her. Words couldn’t express how in awe of her he was everyday.  “I’ll make a notation.” he grinned. “Or rather, I’ll have Friday make the notation.” “You don’t need to make a notation that I’m enjoying dancing with you.” Carol leaned into him, wanting to continue the closeness. She was dangerously falling for this man, her friend, and whether she was prepared for it or not there was not much she could do. Well…maybe there was but Carol didn’t want to do anything about it. “You can just” She pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth gently, just a tease of a proper kiss. “dance with me.” She finished.  Get your own valid XHTML YouTube embed code

pretty bird (Taken)

06/16/2022 02:46 PM 

Skin Deep

People always think it's the memories that aren't a part of her. None of them really understand, though, that the memories are the easiest part of being Rogue. Memories are just thoughts attached to images attached to feelings. Marie can absorb those, make them her own. It doesn't matter where they come from—from her own past, from someone else's. Once they're inside her, they're hers. But doesn't it get confusing? Bobby asked her once, squinting at her as if he'd already decided the answer was yes. She'd searched for words to tell him, tell him no, don't you see? Once they're in there, it's not like havin' someone else in my brain. It's all just me. But she could tell from his expression that the meaning would be lost on him. Marie also doesn't bother trying to explain to them that it's her skin that's no longer her own. She can handle the strangers in her head; she can handle the powers that shouldn't be hers. What she can't handle is the stranger that covers every inch of her body, and keeps her at arm's length from herself. ✵ Afterwards, after needles and condemnations and dirty looks, it's like meeting an old friend after years of separation. She keeps the gloves for a few months, still scared of what might happen—what she might do—but after a season has turned and she hasn't hurt anyone, she starts to trust. Maybe she's really at home, again. She sits in the new summer sun, feeling as shy as an eleven year-old just becoming aware of her femininity. It's an appreciation she didn't have growing up, an acute self-consciousness forced upon her by image after image of pain caused by her touch. The names and faces well up behind the specks in her eyes when she glances up at the noon-day crest of light. She sighs with the wind on her skin. No needle can grant her asylum from this, from the layers of guilt that are the basis of the power she had. She's not sure she can excise it, not even one cell at a time. ✵ She didn't do it for Bobby, but she's sure as hell ready to kill him when she catches him with Kitty. They don't even have the decency to pretend they're doing something innocent—he just looks down, unable to meet her eyes, and, really, that's all the answer she needs. She didn't do it for Bobby. But she'd be lying to herself if she tried to pretend that she hadn't thought—hadn't hoped— Well. None of that really mattered now, did it? Marie's used to being on her own. ✵ She's ill at ease with the X-Men. They don't quite know what to do with her, anymore, and she doesn't quite know what to do with them. Logan tries to include her, come up with ways that she can be a part of the team even without her powers, but Ororo waits for no woman, and certainly no "misguided young girl who has alienated half of her classmates." She wants to tell Ororo that being able to wear a tank top and dance until her chest burns at a club doesn't make her any less a member of the team. That losing the last traces of chains around ankles and claws emerging from her knuckles doesn't make her human. The absence of power isn't what makes her human. It's not in her genes, or in the crest she wears on her uniform, or in the political party she votes for. She isn't sure yet what will make her human, or if she even wants to be. ✵ She gravitates to other mutants, a moth to new flames. There are others who don't compare her to what she was, all the things that they think she could have been: she likes meeting someone and not seeing a hint of disappointment flicker in their eyes when she can shake their hand. They don't challenge her right to call herself Rogue. She goes to a support group, meets some others who've been cured. Marie stays quiet, for the most part, but loves to listen, absorb the stories: here, she can do that, and no one has to get hurt. And it's nice not to feel alone. ✵ She meets Carol outside the building on a rainy Wednesday night; between closing her umbrella and juggling her backpack, Marie can hardly see where she's going, and they would have been a fast tangle of limbs on the ground if not for Carol's hand on the small of her back. I'm so sorry, she says breathlessly, straightening up. Carol's smile widens the more Marie tries to apologize, and Marie stops when she realizes that the woman's hand hasn't moved although she's completely steady on her feet now. I'm so sorry about that, she says again, swallowing, her throat dry despite the high humidity in the air. I'm not, Carol tells her, her fingers smoothing over Marie's waist when she does let go. I'm not sorry in the least. ✵ Carol, Marie finds out later, was there for a group of her own. Joe, she explains over coffee. They told us he died in battle. It's another six meetings (at which point Marie is thoroughly tired of talking about her feelings) before she has the courage to say yes when Carol suggests a movie. Dinner takes another three, but by then, it's Marie doing the asking. ✵ Carol's strong—stronger than anyone Marie has ever known. She let nothing stand in her way: not her father, not the instructors who told her women weren't meant to be pilots, and certainly not Ms. Marvel. Each obstacle in her life she overcame with a single-minded determination and refusal to acknowledge that anything less than victory was an option. Marie's glad she'll never have to face Carol on the opposite side of a battlefield. ✵ Some nights, she wakes up in a cold sweat. Her dreams are vivid splashes of color—faces she's not supposed to remember, places she's never been. Her skin crawls, goosepimples rising all along her arms, but there's no cool air coming in. She keeps her window closed at night. She scratches until pale pink turns to red, until she can't feel her heart pound with the knowledge of the last time her skin felt like this, and tosses and turns well into the dawn, swatches of light showing her things she doesn't want to see. ✵ Y'all don't think…don't think it was only temporary? She's braved the beige-and-blue meeting room again, gloves bunched nervously in her hands, knees locked tightly together. It's the question she refused to ask those first few months, sure she already knew the answer. But a room full of heads shake at her, and Mrs. Hertzfeld tells her it's completely normal to still feel ghost sensations. Like phantom limbs, she tells Marie, patting her comfortingly on the hand, give them time and they'll go away. ✵ I don't know what to tell ya, kid. Logan neatly slices the apple in half, eating one-half of the green fruit with a decisive clench of his jaw. If Hank couldn't find anything, why're ya still worryin'? Marie shrugs, her chin resting in her palm. He offers her the other half, and shows no fear when her fingertips brush his knuckles. Then again, he never has. It's why she likes him, and why she'll never completely trust him. ✵ I don't think it's safe, she tells Carol, looking out the window so that she doesn't have to see the effect of her words. She's seen more than her share of disappointment and pain for one lifetime. At least this time it's for the best. But Carol's strength, the same strength she admired, refuses to hear her. Carol's hands are sure, and they know all the places that Marie—that Rogue—can't say no to, those places that she's still getting re-acquainted with, the ones Carol has helped her make home again. Carol tells her that Marie doesn't have the right to make this choice for her, and Marie knows she's right. And she finds she can't say no when her body says yes. Even now, she's the weaker of the two. ✵ She's known all along that Carol has precognition—it's the excuse Carol used to take her on dizzying flights through the city, barely dodging buildings and trees in a mad aerial roller coaster ride. I sense immediate danger and avoid it, Carol said, with her cocky fighter-pilot's smile. I won't let anything happen to you, love. And she didn't. Every flight, they landed unscathed. Marie hadn't seen Carol's pre-cognition as it was happening, but she recognizes it immediately, even before her skin screams out with a thousand pricking needles bursting up from under the surface, even before she collapses against Carol in a helpless throe of joint-wracking pain. Carol looks at her, takes Marie's face in her hands; her eyes tremble, glaze slightly, and she just has time to whisper this my gift before the world goes white and Marie stops being Marie and Rogue is born into a world of searing agony and power. So much power. Carol hadn't lied to her: every flight, Marie lands unscathed. But in their last one, skin to skin, it's only Marie who lands, and Carol who keeps flying, aware of the danger, and shooting straight up into the white-hot glare of the sun. ✵ Rogue knows hospitals. She knows the sound of heart monitors, the squeak of sneakers on linoleum when the uninjured party standing at the bedside can't stand to look anywhere else. She went into County General a young girl unready to face the consequences of actions she hadn't made the choice to commit, unwilling to believe that a kiss could really be responsible. She apologized through glass and didn't make it past the door until he'd been discharged. She enters New York Presbyterian three years older and lifetimes wiser, clothed from head to toe in black. She has made a vow that she will never again set foot outside without this uniform again. She recites the names to Carol, each and every one: they are a line, not a path, but a living and breathing lineage that her skin remembers. Carol's brow feels cool even through the material of the gloves; she doesn't stir when Marie's lips press down on the velvet barrier. She flies, that night, for the first time, crazy with Carol, crazy with grief, but the wind is on her skin, and then she knows, as sure as she knows the hum of power: they're all with her. There are no strangers in the map of her skin, anymore, no doubts about who she is. She is Rogue, and is everyone she has ever touched. She isn't alone. They'll always be with her.

⁻ˢᵉᵉᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵀʳᵉᵃˢᵘʳᵉ

06/16/2022 02:14 PM 

--PKMN Team

Level: 25 Ability: Levitate Met: Route 121 Gender: Male Nature: Bashful Characteristic: Strong willed Moveset: Shadow Sneak, Disable, Will-o-Wisp, Payback Level: 35 Ability:Thick Fat Met: Lilycove City (as a Spheal) Gender: Male Nature: Mild Characteristic: Mischievous Moveset: Brine, Aurora Beam, Rest, Snore Level: 37 Ability: Chlorophyll Met: Route 121 (near Lilycove) Gender: Male Nature: Hardy Characteristic: Loves to eat Moveset: Stomp, Leaf Tornado, Dragon Dance, Air Slash Level: 37 Ability: Levitate Met: Route 111 (as a Trapinch) Gender: Female Nature: Jolly Characteristic: Impetuous and silly Moveset: Dragon Tail, Screech, Bug Buzz, Steel Wing (TM) Level: 20 Ability: Battle Armor Met: Grand Underground in Sinnoh Resurrected: Rustboro City Gender: Female Nature: Brave Characteristic: A little quick tempered Moveset: Water Gun, Metal Claw, Ancient Power, Bug Bite

M.C. RP

06/16/2022 05:59 PM 

Reply/Writing Examples (recent & active!)

Excerpts! (Style in parenthesis after description)Sorry in advance. Grammar is secondary to flow/pacing and character's personal style. How I Set a scene (Novella):As the horses lurched them forward, Iliana swallowed back a telltale prickling of tears. Glass clinked, wood crates shifted, the smells that’d overpowered the worn almost dusty smell of the wagon began to fade as she shuttered her eyes from the view of her dwelling becoming the horizon. Determined not to dream of what it might be like to be loved enough to inspire political schemes with scant luck of success. To possess more than a lonely grave-full of devotion. To rise and lay down again cocooned in the surety of loyal family. Not for the first time, her determination afforded her nothing. Iliana dreamed she had the childhood she never allowed herself to yearn. Waking from that security in the barbarian’s encampment, the place where she would be married and live until discovered or disposed of, cut deeply into her weary marrow. As the last vestiges of sleep scattered to the wind, she climbed out into the midafternoon haze. Breathing deeply of the bittersweet almost-freedom. When she stood alone like this, it grew harder to resist the labels affixed to her spine. A bastard princess by birth, false princess by the machinations of cowards, a bride as likely to be wed as to be slain, how many banner-less titles would she carry to the afterlife? Would Death take pity and present her with a crown? Some form of compensation a requirement to dare entreat her forgiveness of indignities she’d suffered, so she wouldn’t haunt her half-sister’s linage until the covenant of realms came to an end.      (This was less than 20% of the whole starter) _____   How I Respond (Para):    However rusty, Donahue and Blot weren't smooth-brained to the notions of Orcish magic. Nor were they ignorant of suffering, sincerity, or the expedient changes their young perch underwent. Rather it was the overwhelming reek of warmth and lust radiating from shrinking build that struck both half-lizards wholly stupid. Nevermind Blot, smushed beneath Cutter's abrupt collapse, unaffected by the blow of his head loudly connecting with the floor. Donahue became an impromptu pillow for how he was tucked behind, beneath, Cutter's head and neck. It was Donahue who moved first. Releasing Cutter and clattering to the ground, hurrying to assist in guiding troubled youth in sitting up. Careful hands at his shoulderblades as former gecko slid close to offer bodily support. Witnessing increasing distress, Blot snatched the limbs he could away from himself and Cutter. Wriggling helplessly from the combined difficulties of a pant leg that hadn't become smaller when its contents did. Blot glancing to Donahue, who widened his eyes and shook his head, clearly refusing to be the one who considered possible solutions. Narrowing his eyes, Blot leaned his face towards Donahue as if making his frown more apparent would change his partner's mind. It worked immediately.  (This is about 45% of my response) ______  How I Move scenes (MultiPara):Being in no immediate danger, Henry forcibly stretched his shoulders down from his ears. Another warm surge freshly coated his fingers. Instinctively, he blew his nose. The evidence of exploding pain tore through his face. Gritting his teeth, which ratcheted up the pressure in his jaw and temples, he screwed up eyes and brows to keep out much of the sunlight as he could. Attempting to meditate as his breathing evened out. It’d not been a significant distance from the room they’d fled and the outdoors. Certainly his nose wasn’t impeding him worse than whatever waning aperitif edged off the champagne buzz Bash curated prior to the disastrous pronouncement. Well, Henry was familiar with the other entailments. Prying open his eyes, he felt the familiar comfort of strategizing smoothing over his raging anxieties. He pulled the handkerchief down and leaned over the grass again, carefully shooting off an email to Margret’s solicitor, his lawyer, and the unfortunate bowling pin who’d gotten caught in the bear trap of this last will and testament same as the rest of them. It might kill him to speak anything remotely complimentary to Bash. Didn’t really consider trying. He wasn’t going to express appreciation for being literally dragged along into Bash’s side of things. The messier side. Especially if this wasn’t an elaborate prank or a virulent misinterpretation. “Shut. Up.” Meant to be a derisive hiss, Henry gruffly sighed instead. “I have a ride coming. I’ll get a copy of the documents now they’ve been made public record.” Pressing the handkerchief back, the stiffness of its unevenly drying patches prodded sore, tender, skin. “Lay low f-“ Groaning, he bit back the command. “Nevermind.” Stepping closer to swipe his foot out and strike downed downer’s lower leg with his lightly muddied shoe, “Get on your feet, Sebastian. The sky isn’t falling on you yet.” With a vague gesture towards the sleek towncar picking its way through the brimming parking lot, he dabbed his nose experimentally and pocketed his phone.“Don’t antagonize me right now unless you want to march yourself back to the wolves.” Maybe he was saying ‘thank you’ after all. In actions more than words. He’d never had a decent grasp on language when they’d been alright. An odd detail to recollect then. Throwing the handkerchief away, Henry straightened out his clothes and hair before sauntering off to the summoned vehicle. Ducking in, he rattled instructions to the driver and settled back with a frosted gaze. Numbness lingered in his periphery. He pushed it away. Denial tripped in his gut. What if this was real? What was he, any of them, actually meant to do? Forfeit the ultimate Coup de Tête and final trial set forth by the ever-baleful Mrs. Moors? If it was true, he reminded himself almost desperately. Sacrificing his pocket square to his trickling nostrils; Henry had the wild thought he’d cried more for a busted snout than his dead mother. The ride to Henry’s private loft in the city may as well be a thousand miles from the main house and the rest of their abhorrent family. Traffic made the journey thrice as long. He’d already called-in a delivery of his favorite comfort foods from half a dozen restaurants on the block across. Everything from Pho to Italian. Bash had been the furthest, close to anyway, thing from his mind when he indulged the urge. Henry wondered if the rattled deviant would demand he share. Frowning at the thought, Henry chose not to mention it. Henry’s building was a recent construction. Heedlessly shining as the sun set. He moved with decisive swiftness. If Bash fell behind, it was his own problem. There was likely nowhere else for him to go, no one whom he could trust, and a serious chance he could be murdered in a million different ways before Henry received the copies he requested and started to unravel something of relevant consequence. Presuming there was a measurable dribble of sense puttering around in his pickled brain, Bash would catch up and stay close.  (This is probably a cool 60ish% of the total reply) ______  Thanks for reading!

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black flamesx

06/16/2022 01:30 PM 

{ Rules && Guidelines }
Current mood:  awake

Rules & Guidelines. - I am a paragraph/multiple paragraph writer and I write in the third person format. This means I will be using complete sentences, proper grammar, proper spelling and punctuation but please don't think I am a nazi - all I ask for is to be able to understand what I am reading on my screen.- you must be 18 or older to interact with me. I do not roleplay with younger kids or characters. Sachiko is a child herself so please don't try anything nasty or perverted.- I run a multi-ship love interest. It is unique to every roleplay. I do not have mains as I think that starts a lot of drama, headache, and situations I don't like to find myself in.- don't rush me. I do not always have time to be online; please respect that.- don't be rude if I don't want to date you. I didn't come here for smut roleplaying.- do not steal or cause drama here. I'm an adult and don't have time for high school he-said-she said bullsh*t.- effort must be made within the storyline I don't want to be the only one to come up with ideas, but I will participate and provide some for us to work on together.- no, I don't have a discord! I don't like instant messaging!- no one-liner's! I'm not saying you h ave to write a book, with huge detail replies I just want something to work with.Roleplay list more will be added soon: (open for other ideas)- vampires.- Crime and Mafia.- Cop and Criminal- Private Investigator / Criminal- Cheating Wife - Police Officer.- CEO of business - southside trash- southside trash and ceo's brother.- Demi-god and mortal.- gods and mortals.- vampires and mortals.- demons and mortals.- half demons and mortals.- half demons and half demons.- angel and human- angel and demon.- demon and human.- vampire and vampire.- sorceror and sorceress- feudal and fantasy- feudal and modern.- princess and knight- king and queen.- prince and slave.- jock and nerd/goth.- boss/employee.- teacher/student.- nun/demon.- student and exchange student.- master and maid- police officer and prostitute- butler and mistress. -

"False" Spawn

06/15/2022 08:07 PM 

Reimi backstory slight redux

Reimi, the demon lord's spawn and watcher of the leylines or so she claimed.  The demon lord always brushed it off whenever the subject of her claim of being his child came up.  His upper class subjects cudgeled their brains trying to figure out how someone so completely the opposite of their lord was related to him.  Their lord, a monster amongst monsters in physical strength, his "daughter" so physically weak, she is actively bullied by her own familiars.  Though it was brought up by some of the mages, it was discarded as a pointless argument.  What Reimi lacked in strength she far more than made up for in monstrous magical prowess which could be why she was so pathetically weak even amongst mages.  There has never been a mage in history who ever got bullied by their own familiars before her.  Then there's her own "siblings" who also mess with her.  The sisters often forced her into getups or attire she refused to wear, such outfits with the bananas, strawberries, pumpkins, or sunflowers on them.  They also tended to throw her between each other playing catch due to her being of a rather low weight.Though bullied by her familiars, they always stuck close to her during meetings and the like as her personal guard.  They'd guard her until the meetings over then go back to bullying her, but the majority of the bullying was of a more playful nature known only to be so between them, to the outsiders looking in, it often seemed to be serious bullying.  Her familiars do enjoy making her flustered  at inopportune times, using her as a rest, and lording over her their very noticeable size difference.  There have been reports of siblings occasionally using her as a shield to block incoming magical attacks, but never truly confirmed by witnesses when asked.  They instead averted their gaze and acted as though they hadn't seen either at all even if reports put them in the same area or were confirmed by many to have. Reimi for many years was forced to have a sitter whose sole responsibility was to train her in her magic and to stop any more major mishaps after she accidentally erased a series of magma lakes from existance, filled a human castle with some kind of sticky white substance, turned a lake into a misama pit, and turned a human prince into a cat in the same day until she learned to hone her magic.  

Jack

06/15/2022 07:18 PM 

Skills and Combat abilities (Under Co)

Abilities Death's Gaze: The main ability of all Reapers, the ability changes their eye of their choice on activation however once an eye is picked for the first time that eye cannot be changed ever again. On activation, the user's sclera become black as night itself along with a spectral blue flame surround his entire eye. When activated, the user can see the colors of one's soul, each color representing how sinful they really are and what they have done for their soul to become that color. Other than seeing the colors of one soul, the user can also see the very "Strings of Fate" that bind them to the mortal world, giving the Reaper a mean's to permanently kill his target. This does not lead to a instant kill by any means, all it does is show how close the user is to killing there target as some require more finesse or forward planning than others. White to blue- The soul is pure or has pure intentions, to reap this soul would make the Reaper no better than the murderers and creatures out there that kill to kill. Blue to Orange- The soul is one that had started out as pure or is on the work of being pure, however somewhere down the the road they may have committed a sin or two whether for the greater good or did not have a choice in the matter. Orange to Red- The soul is one on a rocky path, a slippery slope, they have committed many crimes or sins but still have a possibility of being saved, even if the hope is little to none. Red- The soul of those who murder, kill, rape, and commit other henis acts. These souls should be Reaped on the spot if possible as nothing could save them from there selves anymore. Black- The Black Soul is those that are specifically targeted by the sanctums, the target that the Reaper was given to exterminate on sight. No amount of begging or pleading can justify on whey they are being targeted by the sanctums. Grey- Souls of the weak and ill, those who are meant to proceed to the afterlife within a short amount a time. The Reaper will take there time and ensure them a safe passage to the after life, reassure them that there is nothing to be afraid of. Strings of Fate: The very strings that bind both mortals and specific immortals, supernatural or mythological to the world of the living. When Death's Gaze is active, it allows the Reaper to see these very same strings. The strings can be anywhere from one string to over a hundred strings, but for each one the Reaper must successfully "Cut" these to bring them closer to death, as mentioned before it does not mean a instant kill or a instant victory as it's determine by the vitality, strength and willpower of the target on how these strings are "Cut". A example is a normal human could easily have one string, and the cut could be as easy as putting a bullet between there eyes. Another example is that of a Lich, who's power and "Life" is bound to a object of some sort giving them the appearance of being "Immortal", though the strings may not be "Cut" while causing physical damage to the Lich they may end up being "Cut" when the Reaper get's closer to the object/damaged the object that is bound to the Lich. Torments Pain: A passive ability that is given to most Reapers from the Vicars of the sanctum, the enchantment thats placed on the body turns pain and damage into power. The more damage a Reaper takes, the stronger both there physical and spirtual abilities become. The Idea of the ability came from the first Vicar that started it all, believing that damage means closer to death, bringing the user closer to the very gods they serve, becoming more attune with how there abilities work. Spectral Grasp: Focusing there spirtual energy, The Reaper can form a astral projection arm that mimics there own arm. The Arm can apper in various sizes and shape depending on the user and what the arm overall design looks like. The spectral arm can be used for various situations and tasks such as grabbing another person/creature using it to hold them in place, throw them, slam them, whatever comes to mind to the Reaper.




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