My name is Judarius and I'm an admin on wightwold.net. This is a place to put all of my character nonsense and rp memes. Generally a trashcan on fire. Sometimes full of character insight.
I am so glad that the word blorbos exists now. It’s so much more evocative and accurate than “comfort character”. Like, they’re different things. He doesn’t bring me comfort, he makes my hands itchy and I want to polish him with pledge. I want to put him in a Pringle’s tube and shake him. I want to brush his hair and put little shoes on him like a Bratz doll. That’s a blorbo.
Charles [to Erik]: Yeah, I know, you wanna do that thing where we’re arguing and fighting but then suddenly it’s like ‘WOAH, this is hot’ and we start making out. Well DREAM ON.
Charles: ...or whatever, fine, let’s just do it.
that fake uncited article that claimed odysseus was said to have hetrochromia in antiquity (he was not) led me down a rabbit hole of attempting to find any source on odysseus' eye color at all, only to discover there is none, which i find utterly hilarious given the repeated descriptions of his physical appearance. homer said "don't ask me the color of nothing he has MASSIVE TITS and THUNDER THIGHS. ive never looked him in the eyes in my life"
My local pharmacy had this really fucked up old medicine called WIZARD OIL behind the counter so of course I had to ask if I could look at it and it's an oil that you are supposed to rub on yourself when you have a headache until your skin becomes literally red hot which sounds awful. Probably melts your brain a bit too considering the list of ingredients. Anyways who wants to buy some of my premium WIZARD OIL
just throwing a theory out there about lucanis’ basement room:
have you ever been in a place where you can feel the eyes at your back? calculating, assessing, observing- the back of your neck prickling with a thousand heated daggers. you are never able to get comfortable- comfort is a blade turned inward. lucanis has lived with that feeling since he was a child.
at a certain point the claustrophobia of a locked room becomes the only sense of safety he has ever had. the bed is not so comfortable that he would lose his vigilance to oversleep. here his back is always to the wall. here he is never denied food. his things are safe. he has a key to a door that locks. here he can breathe.
that moment when you cross the point of no return with a character should be accompanied by a specific chime i think. like 🔔 congratulations! this one has been installed in the Permanent Collection and you will never stop thinking about them as long as you live
big fan of liars. big fan of characters whose entire existence is a facade. love it when everything's stripped away from them and the lie is the only thing left of their identity. love it when the lines between an act and the truth are blurring. are they even them without the lie? the lie doesn't become the truth per se, but it's now such an intricate part of them it might as well be.
your teens are for learning how to rp and your twenties are for the trial and error of rping around a rotating door of some of the most bugfuck unstable people you have ever met and your thirties are for finding contentment rping with somewhere between three and ten people who all came out of it stronger together 🙏