crossroadsrpg

[crossroadsrpg]

sorry for the absence, 

but your admin is back ! and ready to dive in with a new plot drop and task coming within the next 48 hours ! this will be our first activity check - to all those who wish to remain in the game, you have until friday, may 15th at 8pm to ‘like’ this post - otherwise, your role will be reopened without chance of reinstatement.  from there, we should be able to fill our group and dive into the world of crime and chaos in our small desert oasis!

[crossroadsrpg]

welcome to crossroads, wyatt rogers !

about the player.

name / alias : kira age : 31 timezone : cst

about the character.

character desired : wyatt rogers faceclaim : kj apa birthday / zodiac : January 4th / capricorn sexual / romantic orientation : bi anything else : he has a tortoiseshell cat named turtle

writing sample.

Adam didn’t smoke; it wasn’t a dealbreaker, just an inconvenience that left Wyatt sitting on the creaking bench near the motel office, his cigarette the only warmth in the February night. The motel didn’t have a rule against smoking in the rooms but honestly, Wyatt was grateful for the numb sort of peace that came from leaving his Tinder match to sleep off their hookup in the now dirty sheets.

It had been fine. He’d had worse. On another day, Wyatt might have even been inclined to suggest they meet up again and make it better. Familiarity breeds interest and all that. But it wasn’t that day. For not particular reason except that he really just didn’t want to.

He didn’t really want to do anything these days.

Wyatt sighed, the smoke in his lungs disappearing into the cold air. His phone buzzed in his pocket, just another text from his older brother that he’d ignore. Just like he’d ignored just about everything else in his phone after Adam confirmed he’d meet him in Crossroads. A few emails, instagram posts, other notifications that didn’t actually interest him. It was the missed voicemail from a Vegas area code that caught his attention the most.

He listened to it, shook his head, deleted it immediately. But like some kind of cosmic joke, his phone started ringing with that same number. Again. Almost as if it had known it was being ignored.

“Rogers,” Wyatt said simply instead of a normal greeting.

“War Rogers!” the gruff voice said and Wyatt could practically see the man on the other end. Sitting in his office, a leather jacket too small for his shoulders, drenched in sweat that always seemed to start at his neck. Loud and old and overcompensating. “I have an offer you can’t-

"No.”

“-refuse, son!” Carey continued, barreling over his objection. “Three nights here in town, all expenses, and a guarantee you make it into the semi-final round. Top four, maybe even three.”

“I’m don’t do that anymore,” Wyatt said.

“You’ll be getting paid twice.”

Carey let that hang on the open line and Wyatt just knew the greasy moron was smiling like an idiot. Like he’d hooked up. And maybe he had.

“Yeah, that’s what I though War,” Carey said after a minute of silence. “it’s time to come out of retirement, kid. The tournament is going to pay you for appearing and then my friends are going to pay you for supporting their friend.”

“Just so throwing the match, Carey,” he snapped. “You want me get my ass kicked by some semi-pro boxer trying to level up and then throw the match.”

“The game hasn’t changed, kid. But I can definitely make it worth your time. And like I said, you’ll make it through the rounds. It’s just about getting this guy to the final bout.”

“He’s good enough to get through to me?”

“He’s good enough. He just needs help with the last hurdle.”

“And if he isn’t? I still get paid.”

“I’ll pay you myself.”

Wyatt grit his teeth. He hadn’t boxed in a serious fight in a year. Just sparring matches at the gym with guys who might have recognized him from the scene but kept it to themselves.

“When?”

“I’ll send you the details. You have about two months to get ready.”

“Fine. I’ll do it,” Wyatt said, a burn deep in his stomach that he couldn’t quite identify. Anticipation or regret. But he’d always been as good as his word and he’d just given it.

“Wyatt ‘War’ Rogers back on the bill. I love it!” Carey exclaimed loudly. Then just like that, he hung up.

All Wyatt could do was light another cigarette for the burn.

[crossroadsrpg]

welcome to crossroads, chloe hendricks !

about the player.

name / alias : r age : 25 timezone : gmt

about the character.

character desired : chloe hendricks faceclaim : anya chalotra birthday / zodiac : november 29th / sagittarius sexual / romantic orientation : bisexual / biromantic anything else : myers-brigs - ENTJ , alignment - chaotic neutral, sorting house - slytherin

writing sample.

(alcohol & drug abuse - just weed but still tw)

Chloe always knew when her dreams and hallucinations weren’t just that but rather another premonition, she couldn’t explain how she knew, it was a feeling. Once again waking up with a gasp, the sweat dripping down her forehead and she immediately looked at the empty bed next to her, almost excepting to see someone there but of course, it was empty. Who the fuck did she think was going to be there? Her grandmother? The old bag hardly cared about her in the first place, only used her to get more money and attention.

“Fuck.” Chloe almost gasped as she threw the covers away from her and stood up, going to the bathroom to wash her face. Staring in the mirror, the face that stared back at her was barely her own. “What?!” She told it, angrily. Chloe loved her tricks, entertaining the guests and sometimes having them play against their money in a game she would always win because that’s how cons work, the player never wins. In some occasion she would read the guest in tarot cards but they’ll usually just scare them, the cards rarely showed anything good and Chloe wondered if it was because of her energy at times.

But the premonitions? They were a curse and a blessing. When it came in dreams they were manageable, at least she didn’t wake up screaming this time. It’s the hallucinations that scared her the most but she never showed it to anybody. Chloe closed the water and went back to her room, it was so dark but at this point she wasn’t tired and so she decided to open another bottle of whiskey, drinking straight from it.

What else could Chloe do? Sometimes her dreams and hallucinations became too much for her to handle and the alcohol helped her sleep soundly. It was either the alcohol or weed that she smoked at times. “Fuck you.” Chloe mumbled, in her mind it was to her strange abilities, the shadows that at times morphed into another vision.

anything else.

plot ideas:

believable or unbelievable premonition: a vision that nobody believes and it has tire consequences or they do believe and make all the preparations and it doesn’t come true?

roommate: sometimes she wakes up screaming from the premonitions so it would be interesting to see how a roommate would react to that, will they help her out? will they want to move rooms? etc

influence: either a bad influence on her or she’s the bad influence on someone else, since she likes drinking and smoking weed.

romantic/fling: I don’t think Chloe ever thought about having a serious relationship in her life, she probably sleeps around but nothing that you can have a future with at the moment.

a con that went too far: maybe she coned the wrong person and they’re looking for revenge? It could be one of the random clients that come to the motel.

[crossroadsrpg]

                             the first time                                                                           crossroadsrpg task 002

a moment. a decision. spur of the moment or planned for months. one way or another, they descended into a mad world full of dark secrets. this task is all about the first time - how it happened, when it happened, why it happened. a life before crossroads. a look into the deep psyche of just what makes your character a criminal - if they even see themselves as such. 

                                            ☾ guidelines ☽

this task is optional. it is meant to help muses, not hinder them !

this task is ongoing - it’s also a great writing prompt for future applicants ! you can do it now, later, three weeks from now - whenever suits your needs. 

this is a writing / development centered task - meaning that while you’re more than welcome to create playlists, aesthetics, moodboards, whatever for it, we’re looking for more ‘self reflecting’ type posts. self paras, journal entries, poems, something of that sort to tell us the story of what happened. 

while the majority of the characters dabble in crime in some aspect, not all of them do ! if your character is one of those who don’t partake themselves, you can write about how they wound up helping their friends, or what makes them not dive into the world of crime that surrounds them. 

some things to consider: 

how old were they?

was it premeditated, or spur of the moment? 

did someone teach them? did they have help? or was this an act on their own? 

what’s their preferred crime? how many times have they done this since? 

how does this effect them today? how long ago did this happen? 

remember to tag all posts with ytigc task and creations with crossroadsrpg so all players can see them as they come out!

feel free to send in any questions, and all previously answered asks will be HERE.

have fun !

[crossroadsrpg]

hey, can i get more suggestions for chloe if it's not too much trouble?

on the off chance that this isn’t for the application in the inbox ( or if you’re still debating ! ) a few suggestions besides the ones listed on her biography could include : chloe bennet, alexa demie, hailee steinfeld, vanessa morgan or margaret qualley !  as always, our motto is : a faceclaim only matters as much as your vision for the character. while we have suggestions, they’re merely a jumping off point - who you choose should be who you want and who you picture for the character! 

[crossroadsrpg]

                             no vacancy                                                                           crossroadsrpg plot 001

it was bound to happen sooner or later - everyone had just hoped that the answer was really, truly ‘never’.  it started with a popular blogger - something about ‘spooky places’ across america, ‘haunted vibes’ and ‘liminal spaces’. what it did was bring photographers, writers, tourists into their small town - a town that barely had room for the residents within its halls in the first place. for almost a month now, crossroads motel & diner has been at full capacity, its employees almost overwhelmed with the influx of customers, and never has a town full of lost souls been so on edge.  people come to crossroads to get away, to hide - but now, they’re being noticed, people drawn to them for their isolation. it’s a danger - to the town, to the staff, but most of all, to innocent bystanders who would have never come near the desert if it hadn’t been the lure of a place better left alone.  only one thing’s for sure : the sudden influx has to die down soon, and the staff at crossroads is prepared to do what they have to to ensure it does.

                                            ☾ guidelines ☽

this is our first plot drop to open the game ! as of now, you are free to begin interacting in character - feel free to post starters, social media, whatever you want !

the blog in question will actually be our inspo blog for future inspirational posts ! you can find it HERE, and the post in question is HERE. feel free to reference it by name if you’d like !

going forward, you’re free to follow if you’d like to, as it will be our primary source of inspirational posts. content that you create will also be reblogged, as a way to see a collective of what we’re creating together ! 

as a general note, this place will be coronavirus free - while we operate in real time ( as in, today’s date is april 29, 2020 ) we won’t be living in a world with the current pandemic. roleplay is supposed to be a place for escapism, and we plan to utilize it as such here. 

remember to tag all starters with ytigc start and to send them in the ‘updates’ channel on our discord, so that all players see them ( when tumblr inevitably makes them disappear from tags ) ! 

as always, if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask ! 

[crossroadsrpg]

welcome to crossroads, maisy james !

about the player.

name / alias : shreya age : 24 timezone : pst

about the character.

character desired : maisy rachel james faceclaim : naomi scott birthday / zodiac : nov. 11 / scorpio sexual / romantic orientation : pansexual / panromantic anything else : tag 

writing sample.

(family death tw)

it was only noon, but it already felt like today was going to be a long day. last night, a traveler who was passing through town with some suspiciously-stuffed duffel bags got into a parking lot brawl with one of the motel workers. what started out as a fist fight and ended with knives and her fellow co-worker left battered on the ground. maisy knew what she had to do when she found out about it early the next morning.

it probably should have scared her that she didn’t think twice about the solution she came up, but her new, unforgiving code of ethics was all too familiar now. she didn’t know why she was so hell-bent on exacting her revenge whenever something came up, why anger constantly simmered underneath her cool, amicable surface… if she took the time to think about it, the answer was obvious – it all came back to her father. but to confront this truth, she’d have to confront the deep heart-wrenching pain left inside her when her father was killed. the grief was too much, and it could only be tamed with rage. a rage that maisy never knew she was capable of until then, and a rage she feared would never leave her now.

“let me handle this one,” she pleaded with guy after going to his door first thing in the morning. he already knew about the situation of course and likely already anticipated that she would want to take care of this.

“come on, guy, i saw him this morning and he doesn’t look like someone you, or anyone else, should be getting in another fight with. let’s just make this quick and easy, no one else has to get hurt.”

maisy may not have been as violent and physical as the other guys, but her methods of handling a situation were just as effective as theirs. and more refined, if she might add. when guy conceded, she headed to the diner, feeling satisfied and dare she say – a little excited?

lucky for her, their visitor had stayed the night at the motel and was stopping by the diner for lunch before heading back out on the road. she didn’t get to flex her cooking skills very much making yet another order of onion rings and a cheeseburger, but the secret sauce was where the real magic happened. with the help of more experienced motel staff when she first moved to town, she quickly discovered a knack for seamlessly mixing nearly undetectable, and quite frankly, delicious poison into her meals. most often in the form of her infamous secret sauce.

“order up,” maisy said with an innocent smile as she slid the finished order, marked with a red napkin underneath the plate, to the waitress, who acknowledged her with a knowing look. the waitress picked up the plate and made her way to the unsuspecting patron. maisy watched as he roughly grabbed the plate from her, no ‘thank you’ or acknowledgment of any kind, before taking a disgustingly large and messy bite of his burger, a little bit of the secret sauce dripping down the side of his mouth. she turned back to the kitchen just as she heard a loud gasp from his direction, already focused on plating the next order on her list.

anything else.

headcanons/character expansion –

maisy may look the part of the ‘girl next door’ (and use it to her advantage when needed), but she’s not the innocent, naive girl she once was. while she doesn’t partake in all the illicit activities around her (murder aside), she’s dabbled in a thing or two that she would have balked at the idea of a few years ago, and she has no judgment on what people do to have fun, fill the void, or simply get by. sometimes, she longs for the past when her life and morals weren’t so complicated, but she knows that there is no going back now. anyways, she likes this more bold, true version of herself that she embodies now.

maisy is fiercely loving, loyal, and protective. she would do anything for her friends, who she considers more like a new family than anything else. she’s slow to trust new people, but once someone has earned it, she quickly adopts a ride or die mentality for them.

despite having (and craving) close connections, she tries to keep her heart somewhat guarded now that she knows how gut-wrenching loss can feel. when it comes to relationships, she usually goes for casual flings and hookups over committed relationships, where emotions get complicated and her vulnerability sets in. she tells herself it’s okay because she doesn’t need protection and someone taking care of her anyway, but deep down she knows it would be nice to have someone to share the deepest corners of their soul with.

there is nothing more important to her than her loved ones, and she misses her actual family more than anything even though she hasn’t seen them in years now. she calls her mom from a pay phone every now and again to make sure everything is okay, but her heart aches to be with her family in person, though she doesn’t know when or if she’ll ever be able to. she’s not exactly on the run anymore, but she still has a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that someone is chasing her.

while maisy always looked forward to taking over her father’s restaurant one day, she never dared to dream much bigger than that. maybe it was because she liked a simple life, or maybe it was because she was scared of what existed beyond the comforts of what she already knew. all of this changed, of course, when she left atlanta for an even smaller town in the middle of nowhere, california. now she’s not even sure where to take her passion for cooking, which has become more of a hobby than anything else because cooking diner burgers and fries does not count as cooking. what she doesn’t tell most people is that she feels a little lost about her ambition – of lack thereof. should she want more? or is she truly content with her new path?

plots –

i would love for her to have some bffs to get into trouble with and defend. i’m looking forward to exploring aspects of this tight-knit group dynamic where everyone has each other’s backs no matter what. i’d also like to play out some kind of friends w/ benefits or one-night stand dynamic.

for the group as a whole, it’d be fun to see what would happen and how everyone would react if the police/feds do investigate the area. or if some outsider or npc threatens to snitch or blackmail someone. idk, i feel like there are so many fun opportunities to explore here.

wanted connections.

[crossroadsrpg]

welcome to crossroads, jack lindsay !

about the player.

name / alias : KT age : 28 timezone : PST

about the character.

character desired : jack lindsay faceclaim : robert pattinson birthday / zodiac : dec 20 / Sagittarius sexual / romantic orientation : bisexual / bi romantic anything else : since jack is a musician i’m going to use brian fallon as his voice claim when i post any of his “original” songs & use brian’s band the gaslight anthem for jack’s most recent band’s sound

writing sample.

tw: drugs & murder

“Shit, shit, shit,” Jack mumbled to himself as he scrubbed his hands beneath the running hot water in his bathroom.  The ancient water tank couldn’t get the temperature hot enough to burn the guilt from his fingertips as blood circled the drain.  It wasn’t supposed to be like this.  His clunker of a classic car with the deep trunk was supposed to be nothing but transportation.  Jack offered to dispose of the body himself, he was so on edge, he couldn’t promise there wouldn’t be a second body to put six feet under if anybody even so much as looked at him the wrong way.  

Earlier that evening Jack had driven deep into the desert, chain smoking an entire pack of cigarettes as the highway stretched beyond him like two tightropes.  He pulled his car off the main road and kept driving for a few miles until he was at the base of some rocks.  It seemed like a good enough burial spot as any.  Then he began digging.  Turns out grave digging gave him plenty of time to contemplate his own mortality: the countless times he could have wound up in the ground himself.  Jack was once on his way to greatness and now— he was on track to wind up in an unmarked grave of his own.  

Fuck.  He needed a bump a hit of something.  Jack wasn’t feeling particularly picky about which vice to give into.

The sight of blood didn’t turn his stomach anymore.  Jack told himself it was from all the drug induced nosebleeds that would force him to stare, hyper fixated, on his own face until it looked more like an surrealist painting than flesh.  Even that was easier to stomach than thinking of all the blood he’s seen pooled on the tile of various motel bathrooms or beneath the pale glow of street lamps.  So, as he pulled the tarp covered body from the trunk of his car, expecting just to cast it into the earth, head back to his place and numb himself with a bottle of whiskey and cocaine— the last thing he expected was to see any signs of life.  

The tarp rose and fell shallowly— but the movement was unmistakable.  Jack wanted to blame the wind, but the night air was so still he could hear the echo of the coyotes howling from canyons away.  Theoretically Jack was left with multiple options here: drive back into town and see if this life could be spared, bury this man alive, or finish the job himself.  

Jack knew what he had to do, so he retrieved a tire iron from his car.  He swung, and swung, and swung until hot tears of guilt brimmed in corner of his eyes and the sounds of a cracking skull ricocheted between his ears.  Jack hastily buried the body and headed back into town– eager to escape reality..

anything else.

filled connection: I’d love to offer Jack up to fill Gemma’s roommate connection if that works!

wanted connection: jack has a soft spot for your character (whether bromantic or romantic we can flesh out) so he offered to bury a body for them.  when jack got to the burial spot he realized the person wasn’t dead… and now he’s killed for them too.  

task 001

aesthetic

[crossroadsrpg]

welcome to crossroads, theo slater !

about the player.

name / alias : amanda. age : 29. timezone : est.

about the character.

character desired : theo slater faceclaim : sean teale birthday / zodiac : june 19th / gemini sexual / romantic orientation : heterosexual. biromantic. anything else : chaotic neutral. ESTP. slytherin (doesn’t actually know what that means; he has absolutely never read or seen harry potter)

writing sample.

The metallic key ring was heavy in Theo’s hands as he locked the maintenance office for the evening. He had once tried convincing Guy that a master key made far more sense than a thousand of them looped together, but it had fallen on deaf ears. The desires of his glorified plumber were so far down his boss’s list of priorities, they were barely on the list. So Theo sated his own frustrations with fantasies of wrapping those keys around his knuckles and bashing Guy’s brains out. It worked well enough.

There wasn’t much of a scene in Crossroads after work hours, even if Theo’s hours didn’t extend to those liminal hours of not-quite dawn. He’d always been shit at keeping track of time and it was worse in the middle of the desert. The hours melded together out there, minutes crumbling like dust until 3am felt normal to him.

It didn’t matter. He had a case of beer in the back of his truck and a road that called his name.

He usually ventured out by himself. Drove until he lost the motel in his cracked rearview mirror. Parked his rusted Chevy next to whatever managed to exist out there with all that death. He would climb into the truck bed, crack open a cold one, and drink the night away with only the stars for company. Out there underneath a blanket of them, it was enough to make a man believe in God.  Though Theo suspected God didn’t like him so much those days. He’d drink to that.

That night, ‘lonesome’ didn’t feel as appealing. He wandered toward the stairs, casually making his way to Gemma’s room. The jingle of his keys harmonized with the buzzing of insects and a whistle of that dry desert wind; a nightly Crossroads soundtrack. He beat his fist three times on her door.

“Maintenance, open up. There’s a gas leak centralized in this room. I need you to vacate the premises immediately, for the remainder of the evening.”

anything else.

if you’ve ever seen the florida project, that’s how i imagine theo’s upbringing. constantly unsupervised, scamming disney world tourists for money and food. selling things he stole from them to other tourists. he’s basically been a con man his entire life. he started running around with a 'gang’ when he was a teenager, which is ironically what eventually inspired him to live the 'straight life’. there was a death the gang was involved in, someone snitched, and everything started falling apart from there. theo lucked out enough to skip town before anyone could name him as being involved. so his big thing on the road is like… seeking freedom and adventure. he’s always in search of a different life but he doesn’t know what it looks like, just that he doesn’t want to go back to florida and settle into that miserable existence.

[crossroadsrpg]

welcome to crossroads, gemma mack !

* this is a sample application, filled out by the admin for an example of what we’re looking for ! anything with a * next to it will not be posted for applicants. 

about the player.

name / alias : ashley age : 30 timezone : cst triggers : * family death ( #family death cw ) banned faceclaims : * none!

about the character.

character desired : gemma mack faceclaim : florence pugh ( second choice : ester exposito ) birthday / zodiac : april 3, 1995 / aries sexual / romantic orientation : bisexual / biromantic anything else : myers briggs - istp. hogwarts - ravenclaw. alignment - chaotic evil.

writing sample.

3am.  It was the slowest hour they had on the night shift. Truckers were usually pulled over to the side of the highway somewhere, those who lived in town and drove out to ( sort of ) close by towns for work weren’t yet awake for coffee and pancakes. The only people awake - or alive, it seemed - were Gemma and whatever cook was playing tetris on their phone in the kitchen.  It was also the time her restless nature settled in the most; sometimes in a fit of nostalgia, she’d lurk former ‘friends’ instagrams, looking at the life she gave up without a second thought. She’d hover over her mothers email address, wondering if she should bother to reach out - not that it mattered, really. They knew where their darling daughter Grace was - dead, left behind in Beverly Hills with the Vera Wang gowns and designer jeans that made her ass look good.  ( okay, so, she still got jeans that made her ass look good, but she wasn’t destitute, she was just a little more frugal. ) “YES!” she heard Jack proclaim from the kitchen - probably beating his own high score in Candy Crush - as she settled down in one of the booths, pulling her knees up to her chest.  It had been almost three years since the last incident - a trucker who got too handsy - but she knew the familiar itch in her veins, the bloodlust that caused her to bite her nails down to the cuticles, the thrumming that made her veins sing with desire. Violence, she’d once told Wyatt, is what kept me going from place to place. It’s what kept most of them going. She settled it down with small cons and the occasional fight in the parking lot, but she knew she’d snap - and soon.  She just didn’t know over what.  But it couldn’t be tonight, and not against anyone she sort of genuinely cared about - especially not Jack, who was humming to himself in the kitchen. So she rang the bell in the window between them, smiling when he looked up at her. “Whatdya say we eat some pancakes to kill time? I could die for some chocolate chips right about now.”  It wouldn’t feed the hole, but it might tame the beast. At least for a few more days. And sometimes, that was all that mattered. 

anything else.

link to blog, pre opening aesthetic and task 001 playlist.  wanted connections //               on again / off again fling - someone who knows everything gemma’s done, but still puts up with her. a vaguely toxic relationship with infidelity, fighting and the constant threat of one ( potentially literally ) killing the other that neither would ever truly make good on.                roommate - preferably a male muse, but open to anyone ! someone gemma’s lived with since settling into town ( or vice versa, depending on who came first ). they get along but the tension of living with someone ( especially as chaotic as gemma can be ) gets to them sometimes. 

[crossroadsrpg]

can we reserve one of the spots if we can’t apply right this second?

absolutely ! we won’t be closing apps until a minimum of three days after the first one comes in, but if you’d like for us to wait for an application for a particular character, feel free to let us know off anon so we know who to look for!