callmeoperator

[callmeoperator]

more characters should be 30+ years old

[callmeoperator]

I did a thing.

I still need to get an about and what have you up, I might tweak the theme buuuut... That's where I'm at for now.

[callmeoperator]

I did a thing.

I still need to get an about and what have you up, I might tweak the theme buuuut... That's where I'm at for now.

[callmeoperator]

WHAT LOW ACTIVITY & SLOW REPLY MEANS:

it means i want to be here, i really do 

it means that i have, whether i like it or not, more important things to do than roleplay at the moment

it means that replies are going to sit for a moment

WHAT IT DOESN’T MEAN:

that i care any less

that i don’t want to talk / plot with you

that you aren’t allowed to IM me or ask for my disco

Sometimes Tumblr has to take a back burner, and that’s fine! Roleplay will still be here when we get back. So take that day to yourself. Don’t worry about drafts. Don’t worry about how “slow” you are being. Everything is okay!

[callmeoperator]

As Sterling talked, Micah listened and nodded slowly. While the nervousness wasn't leaving, there was a relief in getting the question out. It was at the same time uncomfortable and like a small bit of weight came off his shoulders. A complex and strange feeling.

"I... Yeah. I think... I'll be there." He nodded again as he took the piece of paper. The idea of being around others who may have gone through something similar and could, on some level, relate was... Well, nice wasn't the word for it. Reassuring? He stared at the paper for a moment, committing it to memory. ".... Thanks."

It was easy to catch onto Micah's nervous energy the more he talked and hesitated. Sterling put the book down onto his desk and stepped around it toward his visitor to give him his full attention. This was obviously something very hard to say and therefore important.

Ah. The support group.

It had been largely unsuccessful at first and still was in many ways. It was no secret SHIELD agents were more than tight lipped about their own traumas. Therapy, especially group therapy with people you saw on a daily basis, was arguably so much worse. Over time, however, people began to trickle in. Most still never shared but just them being there was certainly helpful in some capacity.

"Yeah, of course." Sterling said, stepping back behind his desk to get a pencil and paper. He scribbled down on it before tearing the page off the legal pad and handing it to him. "We meet every other week for an hour. It's a pretty small group. There's snacks. You don't have to share if you don't want to. I'm not a therapist or anything. I just... I just wanted people to be able to talk about it. And if a group setting doesn't work for you my office is always open. Again, I'm not a therapist but I'm a decent listener and... I can relate. Most of us can on some level."

[callmeoperator]

Starter call

[callmeoperator]

I was thinking about how fun it would be to play a campaign of Masks or Monster of the Week with some of you all.

[callmeoperator]

RPC RECOMMENDATIONS MEME

Send ✒️ + the url of an rp blog you think I should follow!

Bonus: specify what you love about them or why you think we'd be compatible!

[callmeoperator]

"Yeah, that's right." He nodded, a small but awkward smile on his face as he tried to tamp down the sudden wave of nervousness that threatened to rise up. Even though this was just about asking some questions, the very nature of this required a level of vulnerability that was always a little bit scary. Because asking the question was an admission of the things he had been through and that wound felt quite fresh.

"Umm. Well. I was wondering... I heard that..." Micah sucked in a breath as he mental berated himself. Just spit it out already. "I heard about your support group and umm, was wondering if I could get details on that."

Sterling had his back to the door. His suit jacket was draped across the back of the chair he was now standing on to grab a book off of the top shelf lining the back wall of his office. Upon hearing Micah's voice he turned, lost his balance slightly, but corrected before he fell.

Ah, go fish guy from the elevator!

Of course, Sterling knew him from the original New York base from before the fall but the time they got stuck in the elevator was really their first interaction, weirdly enough.

"Warren, right?" He greeted, jumping down from the chair, book in hand. "Of course. How can I help you?"

[callmeoperator]

✿‧̥ remember that roleplay is a hobby not a job ! you shouldn't hold yourself to any obligation with roleplay as a hobby. be here when you can , not when you force yourself to be. it's okay to not have muse, it's okay to just want to yap on your blog. you're not a robot , you can't turn out replies all the time. burn out is real and it's okay to take care of yourself when you have it. never let anyone pressure you into being here, including yourself.

[callmeoperator]

@sacredpyre

It had been a a little over a month since Micah had come to the mansion to talk to the professor. It had been a difficult conversation but a necessary one. Micah needed help and that was never easy to admit. He had been broken and used because of who and what he was and even though he saved himself from that situation, wounds like that don't heal quickly or smoothly.

Micah was thankful for the therapist that Xavier had arranged for him to see and space for them to have their session. It was an interesting experience to be in place with so many mutants. While there was a handful in the employ of SHIELD, he never really worked closely with any of them and before that... He had been the only one he had ever known.

Maybe that was why he always came to these appointments far earlier than he needed to. It gave him time to sit and absorb his surroundings as he waited.

[callmeoperator]

@agentsterling

"Do you have a moment?" Micah knocked softly on the frame to the open door of Sterling's office.

He had been back at SHIELD for a little while now. Even with all the bumps in the road and the new quirks he had picked up over the years, it was surprisingly easy for him to find his footing again... In the sense of his works duties anyways. Life outside that was still a struggle. While it was very tempting to try and drown it in the distraction, to take on as many hours as he would be allowed, that probably wasn't very healthy. Or good for anyone in the long run, as much as that sucked to admit.

So when he heard through the grapevine (communications was the place to hear gossip and rumors) of a trauma support group... Well, it doesn't hurt to ask questions, right?

[callmeoperator]

Food was currently a complicated topic for Micah and being around a bunch of people made it worse. He frowned as he pushed bits of his microwaved-warmed frozen meal around in it's plastic tray. It was difficult today and it didn't help that this meal he picked out just... wasn't that good. He made a face as he forced himself to put a bite in his mouth. How did this bite manage to be lava hot when the last one was ice cold?

He glanced up as he heard a voice address him. The voice wasn't unfamiliar to him, so he wasn't surprised when his eyes confirmed it. He knew some agents seemed to think that the psych department was the scariest place to be and avoided anyone and anything from there like the plague. Micah thought that was rather silly actually. "Oh, sure, go ahead."

@callmeoperator liked for a starter from grace

She feels stupid. She feels like the new kid in school trying to find a table in the lunchroom. It's just the canteen, which she usually avoids at all costs, but she forgot to bring a lunch (or, more accurately, packed a can of soup with no bowl or can opener while half-asleep this morning) and needs to eat or she'll become a monster by 2PM. So, canteen. Grace, standing there with her pitiful little sandwich, staring over the few tables scattered with agents she doesn't feel comfortable imposing upon with her presence when half of them think she's basically a demon in human form: the shrink.

There's one table occupied by only one person instead of several, which seems to be her only option. "Do you mind if I sit over here?" she asks, indicating the seat furthest from him with her elbow. "I won't be a bother, I hope."

[callmeoperator]

let your muse have ugly traits! let your muse have unhealthy coping mechanisms! let your muse be toxic! let them be a hypocrite! let them do things that make you cringe! let them relapse and spiral and experience moral decline, as a treat! it’s roleplay. it’s supposed to be fun, and it’s even cathartic for some. embrace your whole muse. 

[callmeoperator]

Micah nodded along as she mentioned Sterling's story. "We're all a bunch of fucked-up weirdos with jagged edges that don't fit in that particular jigsaw puzzle anymore."

He watched as she took a bite of food from his plate, listened as she talked. "I know. I know." He let out a frustrated sigh. "I know, which is the annoying part. I know it's fine, I know it's safe. I know that there is no reason to doubt this. And yet." He let his fall back against the couch back, his eyes focused on the ceiling above them. "Brains and emotions are stupid."

"... I don't know what I told them. I wasn't super lucid a lot of the time." He frowned at the thought of it. Some of those memories were hazy and feel through his fingers like sand when he tried to grasp at them. Others were burned in his skull forever. "I don't think I want to be a hero, I just want to do the right thing and... that's enough."

"I know what you are doing, and no bears need to be released." He let his head roll to the side to look over at her. "Unless the bears really want that I suppose."

"I heard Erik, you met Sterling, right? Back at SHIELD? Whatever. He's married to Chen from records now. I heard he ran in with a gun when he heard a coworker scream. Turns out it was just a roach." He put a forkful of food into her mouth and began talking with her mouth full. "SHIELD fuckers are built different. We can't handle normal people shit anymore."

She was thankful she swallowed her food before he said manfriend because she would have spit it out with laughter. "Damn, you're right. I hate that. Never ever say manfriend again."

And just like that the mood was back but Joon didn't seem bothered by it. Part of her was relieved. She never really... talked about what happened. Mason didn't talk about it much either. Knowing she wasn't alone in terms of what Hydra did to them made her feel better and yet so much worse.

Joon paused a moment, taking in his words, before leaning over and taking a forkful of his food. She popped it in her mouth, chewed, swallowed, and showed him her empty mouth before closing it. Before she spoke, she placed a hand on his arm and began breathing slowly in and out.

"Your food is not laced. You are somewhere no one would expect. You are with a friend. You are safe. You've had a shower. You're eating good delicious food. You are going to sleep soon and someone will be here to watch over you while you rest. Tomorrow you will wake up and you will still be safe. We will get food that is not laced with anything, we will go talk to the head of Counter Terrorism in SHIELD, and you will still be just as safe, if not moreso. Anything that wants to get you will have to go through me and they do NOT want to do that. I've been known to release bears."

Even after 10 years she was sure Micah would recognize her dispatcher voice. Calm. Level. Grounding.

"Tomorrow you will tell him about your vision and you will be a goddamn hero. And you. will be. safe. Breathe."

[callmeoperator]

Starter call

[callmeoperator]

Starter call