moonslaura

[moonslaura]

this season of rings of power has definitely confirmed me that halbrand sauron did not have a big overarching plan for the whole season and was just seeing where life would take him because he seemed extremely laid back and chill compared to annatar sauron, who has a 600 step plan for world domination and looks like he's about 5 seconds from telepathically exploding people with his mind whenever they disagree with him

[moonslaura]

𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐒 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐅

first scene in the fellowship of the ring.

[moonslaura]

The Office — 4.08 | “Money”

[moonslaura]

"Sort of establishing a very important aspect of Elizabeth’s character in this scene, which is… She and Will have been together now for a year. And as far as it seems with the movie, the physicality of their relationship is sword-fight practice. And it’s driving her a little nuts, I think."

"And again, Elizabeth makes the point similar to what she made in the jail cell. She’s bothered."

Ted Elliott and Terry Rossio - Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest audio commentary

[moonslaura]

Here he spoke for all of us. Go off, king!!!

Mark Rylance as Thomas Cromwell Wolf Hall: The Mirror and The Light | Episode Five 'Mirror'

[moonslaura]

Site Link: https://gravitas.jcink.net Activity Requirements: currently we ask that members post at least once a month to keep their characters active Rating: 3/3/3 Types of Characters/Creatures Allowed: humans – royals, nobles, mages, commoners, etc. Time where the RP is set: Original world, but in game the year is 609 R. Gravitas is a Medieval Fantasy set in an original world. The burgeoning Alba is where we lay our scene — risen from the ashes of a long-dead empire. In the power vacuum left behind by the fall of the Laurentian Empire, five realms have emerged to govern. Trade flows freely now like the rivers of Alba, filling the coffers of the ruling classes. Art, music, and learning have taken a new importance, pushing the Albians to the precipice of enlightenment. Ambition accompanies this amassment of wealth & clout.

It is the dawn of a new age.

SEASON 2 BEGINS – War has come to Alba. The imperial ambitions of the Volarra and her High Steward have spilled blood, leaving behind decimation. New paths open while a religious riff changes the landscape for politics and a new reality for the witches of Alba. When grief, uncertainty, and revenge are at play one may never be too careful with the alliances one builds. The future of the region teeters on the edge of a precipice – it is the people of Alba who will decide whether to look to the future or the past.

The decisions of the players of Gravitas will guide the Five Realms into the future and decide the fate of Alba.

Other Notes: Advanced/Multi-paragraph writers preferred, profile application, additional discord server for OOC chat.

Multiple subplots for players to join. Players can create originals or canon characters, royals or rogues. There is an overarching political subplot that will affect the game - and players can decide if they want to react to the changing world around them...or have a hand in shaping what that world might be.

Contact Details: Those interested in joining Gravitas can join or Discord via the site link or DM this account if further information is desired. Thanks!

[moonslaura]

rotten woods  —

tldr: former camp counselors who survived a cross-country trek after the blast, vaguely based on the breakfast club.

please note that below the cut there are vague mentions to the demise of like...so many people.

 

LABOR DAY, CAMP IDLEWOOD —

SEPTEMBER 2020 - After another idyllic summer in the Kennebec Valley, Maine, CAMP IDLEWOOD has emptied out, leaving behind the staff to pack up the canoes, close down the barn, and lock up the cabins. But first, there’s the end of the year bonfire, where beer flows steadily and counselors enjoy the camp just a little for themselves. It teeters on the edge of a John Hughes movie and a bacchanal for the most part, but THE BLAST turned IDLEWOOD summer slasher. How they survived ranges anywhere from happening to be down in a basement to drag out more frozen burger patties to other strokes of dumb luck. But when the sun rose, all that was left were five twenty-somethings in the gore-splattered woods. Not friends, not all of them at least, and certainly not prepared to explain what had just happened -- they buried what they could and cooled their heels. Someone would come, right? Some sort of authority?    PRESENT DAY - Bound together mostly out of necessity, the IDLEWILDE FIVE mostly stumbled their way to outpost in Carlsbad by accident. As conditions grow worse, they’re thinking of trying their luck on the outside once again. 

“THE PRINCESS” / OPEN / RESERVED FOR MOLLY Formerly a camper, THE PRINCESS came back to IDLEWOOD because she loved it, point blank, and spent the summer ensuring that GIRLS BUNK A had equally sunny memories. Perhaps: a silver-spoon daughter of a scion with soft hands, she’s taken the end of the world mostly in stride, despite possibly being unnfairly established as a weak link at the start of their adventure. She’s worked tirelessly to keep the group together and perhaps indulge in their humanity more often than not. What’s the point in surviving if there isn’t anything to look forward to?  “THE ATHLETE” / OPEN / RESERVED FOR JAY Tapped astThe de-facto leader as they stuck out from CAMP IDLEWOOD after THE BLAST. The prototypical golden boy, a consummate optimist, product of generational wealth — THE ATHLETE almost found a thrill in everything going shit-sideways. For once: there wasn’t a playbook to follow, no more eventual picket fence with 2.5 kids and a golden retriever, no more family firm and corner office or endless games of golf looming in his future. Currently, the most skeptical about leaving the safe-haven of Carlsbad, his constant optimism is starting to fail him. A straight shooter, a Fred Jones archetype, but who stays the same when the world ends? “THE CRIMINAL” / DARCY FARRELL / RESERVED 4 THE #1 CROCS APOLOGIST (SAV) He spent the majority of summer in the craft yurt or slipping off to smoke on the jetty dreaming of the different life he would have when he finally got the fuck out of dodge. Had a kindred relationship with “THE BASKETCASE” out of all of them before THE BLAST, though perhaps he didn’t quite understand how deep that went for her. A never-do-well that was only sort of straightened out after the apocalypse. A townie who had a golden ticket out of Maine, but that got blown to shit with THE BLAST. Adaptability is with its weight in gold these days, and he’s not gambling on Carlesbad anymore. “THE BRAIN” / NAME NAME / OPEN Took the job at CAMP IDLEWOOD because he thought it would help differentiate his already packed resume going into INSERT IVY LEAGUE SCHOOL HERE. THE BRAIN has always been determined to move up and onwards, high school sucked but eventually, he’d be the one to call the shots. Perhaps he wasn’t the most popular counselor at camp, but he’s found his opportunity to be a team player in the apocalypse, despite initial misgivings about “THE ATHLETE”. A “well rounded overachiever” in a previous life, THE BRAIN’S encyclopedic knowledge about science fiction constructed the “Don’t Be Stupid Rules” that have more or less kept them out of trouble as they trekked across the country. Sometimes feels like an unsung hero, but hey — the meek inherit the Earth, right? “THE BASKETCASE” / NAME NAME / RESERVED FOR BRETT Probably didn’t have any business (desire or inclination) being a camp counselor, but when your mom is the longtime camp director, it was more or less an expectation. Something of a loner, avoided the general jocularity of her coworkers and preferred to spend time by herself in the sick-bay or waiting for “THE CRIMINAL” to put down his hemp bracelets for a minute. Unrequited pining aside, the BASKETCASE has become something of their walking first-aid kit, but is itching to be a little braver at the end of times. Has certainly found her voice and a purpose in Carlesbad, and while she isn’t eager to strike out again, she figures that it's better to stick together than to be alone. 

[moonslaura]

In the source, you will find 55 gifs of English actor Ewan Mitchell in his role as Aemond Targaryen in the ninth episode of House of the Dragon. Each gif is 250 x 150, and were made for RP purposes. Please do not add my gifs to gif hunts. You may resize for RP purposes, but do not re-upload and claim them as your own. Please do not use any of my gifs to portray minors.

All gifs were made by me from scratch, including adjusting color grading.

[moonslaura]

broken crown of amar

[ INDEX ● DISCORD ● GUIDEBOOK ● CANONS ● REQUESTS ]

21+ - JCINK PREMIUM - FREEFORM APP - NO WORD COUNT

The trailblazing medieval fantasy rp returns.

Welcome to the newly united kingdom of Amar. The young King Brannon has sat the throne for ten years, now seeking to bring the icy, wild north to heel. A deadly plague threatens to erupt across the land, and those who remember what it was to rule themselves become more bold by the day. And all the while, something stirs in the remote corners of Amar, something older than the land itself.

[moonslaura]

broken crown of amar

[ INDEX ● DISCORD ● GUIDEBOOK ● CANONS ● REQUESTS ]

21+ - JCINK PREMIUM - FREEFORM APP - NO WORD COUNT

The trailblazing medieval fantasy rp returns.

Welcome to the newly united kingdom of Amar. The young King Brannon has sat the throne for ten years, now seeking to bring the icy, wild north to heel. A deadly plague threatens to erupt across the land, and those who remember what it was to rule themselves become more bold by the day. And all the while, something stirs in the remote corners of Amar, something older than the land itself.

[moonslaura]

DISASTER BOY WANTED FOR FORMER PROM QUEEN & MIDDLE BROTHER TO A SHAMELESS FAMILY

 “the intimacy of being understood”, the eddie munson to a chrissy cunningham, the unparalleled gravity of finding a home in a soul and not a home in a place, growing up but not really growing apart, getting back together after fucking up, that invisible string that taylor swift was talking about, a slowburn that got it’s aux cord pulled without ceremony, reconnection and pining, the running compass leg and the fixed.

request is linked here darlings with the secondary request at the bottom of this ad!

[moonslaura]

all my friends were vampires  —

tldr: Umbrella Academy with a heist angle that has sort of devolved into a Count of Monte Cristo (the Italian Job, if u will) situation.

please note that below the cut involves content regarding adoption. 

PROLOGUE: Aging thieves seldom leave a legacy. At least, they don’t if they’re any good at what they do. No fingerprints, no family.

But he collects the Seven like trophies over the years - this one from Iowa, that one from Louisiana, and another plucked from the shores of the Pacific Northwest. Their origin stories are forgettable, sometimes mercifully so. At home maybe they were just another mouth to feed, but with him they had potential to eclipse the ordinary lives they would have otherwise led.

They are all tasked with the same challenge: flourish or wither. They all chose the former. 

The Seven learn the rules like a crooked scripture: honor thy father but remember there is no honor among thieves. 

The Penderghast kids were not raised to be upstanding but they were brought up to be professionals. They didn’t receive a pearl necklace for their sweet sixteens, they stole it as a right of passage. It was not a conventional upbringing, or perhaps a particularly well-adjusted one. But Papa breaks it down into simple choices: black or white, sink or swim. Valor is for the storybooks — here you were either quick or you were dead.

ONE YEAR AGO: A job goes wrong. A sibling vanishes, figuratively and literally. He’d forgotten the first rule of the family: there is no honor among thieves. 

[moonslaura]

[moonslaura]

—  to love someone is firstly to confess: i'm prepared to be devastated by you.

There is a spectacular horror in growing up in a small town.

You are defined first, by your family name — you settle in the valleys and the peaks that are carved out by the erosion of legacy. Both of you fit like crooked teeth (she wants pom-poms and Pop Warner and a white picket fence, he wants something more than the dead-end preordained to him since birth) and still you both cling to those mantles. 

Those Carter girls: clever as the Devil and twice as pretty.

And those Hathaway boys  — burning the candle at both ends.

You both have a lot to live up to, and for some reason, you’re always falling short of the shadow cast by taller relatives, who stand stalwart in the glare of a family tale.  Common ground is a Saturday in May, as senior year edges to a close. Her tennis whites were always second hand, her bleach-job done in her grandma’s kitchen, but she’s the prom queen, the cheer captain, and she’s floundering  —  better to drown in quiet obscurity like Ophelia than to make a fuss. He grew up with a perpetual black eye (the origin story was always changing, an argument with an older cousin, or a story involving a tree branch and a dirt bike) but Romeo learned to scale a balcony nonetheless.  He crawled through the window of Barbie’s kitchen, narrowly avoiding the fryerlator and June Carter’s famed “attitude adjuster” (read: baseball bat stored behind the bar). They decided to burn the candle at both ends together that summer. What came next was the prescribed heartbreak: he says he’s leaving, she says she can’t leave home. They smother their hearts with bare hands. One compass leg runs, the other anchors itself in Gainsborough.  And still, they meet at a fixed point.

tldr: “the intimacy of being understood”, the eddie munson to a chrissy cunningham, the unparalleled gravity of finding a home in a soul and not a home in a place, growing up but not really growing apart, “who’s the deadbeat now?”, a slowburn that got it’s aux cord pulled without ceremony, reconnection and pining, the running compass leg and the fixed. honestly there are a lot of open components..........like whatever he’s been up to since graduation. vaguely in their early-ish twenties but happy to be a bit flexible on that point as well. would also be down to clown with the rest of the beats of the breakfast club for the fateful saturday. if interested, please boop into my Discord @ holly gofightme 0001 

[moonslaura]

maybe that's what it means to be in love, to willingly be at the mercy of another person.

                                                        - tayari jones, an american marriage It starts in the summer, when cicadas sing at a fever pitch and the air sticks, thick as mosquito netting, against sweat-salted skin. It is in that haze they find themselves, alone when they shouldn’t be, out of place and awkward. But their manners fill the polite silence, a dance in a hospital waiting room: her, a chipped tooth and a bruised lip from an unfortunate dive in the family pool, him: a broken arm from “something stupid”. 

They pass a note etched in shy smiles like a shared ice pack: I won’t tell if you won’t.  And they don’t.  That first summer unfurls like a peony, petal by petal they peel each other apart. It is a delicate undoing: to know someone down to their marrow. They don’t have to ask: are you lonely too? They smother it in kisses. For Bellamy: it is so close to the magic that pulls at the edges of her being, a reprieve from the burning in her bloodstream. The Marrows were rotten at their root and still they flowered. It soothes her, this fever that burns between them: sweet like spiked lemonade snuck at Founders Day that makes their head spin. They are drawn to the dramatics like moths, the word forbidden as binding as a spell: nobody can ever know that I love you.  But “love” folds into the past tense. If it cannot be, it shouldn’t have tried in the first place. It becomes: Nobody can know that I tried to love you.  When they look back: it is so achingly sweet. The saccharine hides the sour, the fissures of their own anxieties that in their childishness they exploit. When they get older, these habits grow teeth. It is hard to remember that they were still children when they met, that there was still that itch to pick a scab to see if it had scarred over. In the end, they remember things differently:  She heard: “This will never work.” He remembers: “We want different things.” And still, they come back to one another — like birds that follow the same migratory patterns, like gravity, like soap bubbles circling the drain.

tldr: A surprisingly long-lasting, mutually destructive and bizarrely equally tender on again/off again/on again/off….“”romance”” for Bellamy Marrow (I don’t like to give my characters nice things). Are they technically exes? Sort of?? I honestly have no idea at this point. Said relationship probably looks better when viewing it through rose colored goggles which these two dummies have absolutely fused to their craniums. Leaving the rationale as to why they weren’t “suitable” for one another up in the air because I prefer to be collaborative, be it a divide of family values, good ol’ socioeconomic differences, deep-seated parental distrust, or whatever! Totally open for bellamy to have not been the one to do the dumping (tbqh it might be fun for someone to have told her that she’s not good enough). Faces are flexible but should be 30+ (as I’m still…..pretty flexible as to where Bellamy will land but probably around 30-32), and also gender is flexible as well, I just used ‘he’ as I had already made the graphics and was too lazy to redo! 

[moonslaura]

LEAVE THE REST AT ARM’S LENGTH — 

“One need not be a Chamber — to be Haunted — One need not be a House — The Brain has Corridors — surpassing Material Place.”

tldr: group of former (and somewhat complicated) friends now about 25/6 who used to be thick as thieves but experienced an ~adolescent tragedy~ together that left them all *taylor swift voice* fucked in the head. please let this serve as a cw for mentions of an untimely demise, drug usage, and some questionable memories beneath the cut. lite inspo from i know what you did last summer and a very much more chicken fried version of the secret history below. pls reach out on discord [ holly gofightme #0001 ] if u want to clown.

Percy Moon shouldn’t have ended up where he did, there are only so many ways to say it, though they were often repeated. Such a tragedy dripped from honeyed lips, cloyed by the powdery scent of lilies and endless parade of casseroles. Hector Moon shouldn’t have drowned that summer night, just three weeks shy of September. But he did. 

The official story was that it was an accident, plain and simple and brutal. It was meant to be a last hurrah, before everyone parted ways for college or whatever. A few bottles of booze, a few tabs of acid, it was nothing new to any of them. But it was a camping trip that blended seamlessly into a nightmare that ended with a body tangled in the marsh grass and the rest of them looking worse for wear. It was a story that didn’t need to be complicated: a few bright filaments that burned too brightly one night and ended in an unfortunate tragedy. 

It was easier to sweep the truth under the rug. It was easier to remember Percy fondly, bathed in the glowing amber of his youth. It was easier to bury the memories more sour than sweet, more Machiavellian than Hardy Boys. It was an easier pill to swallow: that they were all just best friends. But childhood scars stack up and some bruises don’t show. The medical examiner never ran the bloodwork or thought anything of the bruises on any of them, the truth tickled at the tips of their tongue: there were no saints that night. But it was a secret that went to the grave, literally and figuratively. 

The center of their gravity gone, they split at the seams, torn asunder, and were cast into the wind. They drifted, away, away, away — 

THE LEFTOVERS —

CHOLERIC - [ RESERVED ] The former best friend of Percy Moon and Penelope’s former boyfriend, a former jock and golden child that was always going to do something with his life but has remained a big fish in a little pond. Currently: learning the ropes at the family dealership and trying not to get bloody knuckles on the weekends. Me and the devil walking side by side. And I'm gonna see my woman 'til I get satisfied.

MELANCHOLY - [ ELIAS MOODY ] Always the artistic temperament, melancholy never put their smarts to anything constructive, instead reveling in rabble rousing. Has since only become more unmoored since the accident, as they were the one to supply the drugs. Moon river, wider than a mile, I'm crossing you in style some day. Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker, wherever you're goin', I'm goin' your way. 

PHLEGMATIC - [ PENELOPE MOON ] Percy’s twin sister who hasn’t set foot in Magnolia in the last seven years. Has almost successfully bleached her southern accent away but it clings to the edges still. Runs on cigarettes and coffee, unfortunately. Tomboyish pixie turned wannabe New Yorker.  I lost my heart under the bridge / to that little girl so much to me. 

SUPINE - [ OPEN ] Formerly, “the new kid”, eager to please, eager to fit in, and somehow the most rooted of the bunch. Remained in Magnolia and has tried the hardest to keep in touch to varying degrees of success over the years. Their brand of sadness is nostalgic, wistful, though they dream of that black night in vivid detail. Maybe they remember too much, maybe they remember nothing at all. Black light, old heart is breaking slowly / feet pacing the floor, my hands are ready.

SANGUINE - [ RESERVED ] The most well adjusted of the bunch, former cheerleader, former girlfriend to Percy, has buried her heart underneath seven layers of Spanish moss and a cocktail of antidepressants. Probably a raging insomniac and the human embodiment of whatever kind of fine a Lana Del Rey superfan projects but that’s kind of hot. Potentially the youngest real housewife of Magnolia or something dumb. There’s nothing in my eyes so I smile with my mouth. 

 SOUL - [ PERCIVAL MOON, RESERVED ] I’m not calling you a ghost, so stop haunting me.

[moonslaura]

PENELOPE MOON — 25,  JOURNALIST— WITCHY BINCH

capricorn sun, cancer moon, scorpio rising / the star / chaotic neutral / spent too much time idolizing scully as a kid, down to the sharp suits / when i say a “menswear icon” i mean it / half of a whole, the only remaining / loss that aches bone deep / camille preaker but somehow “slightly better” adjusted / deadpan snarker / swears only on the docs the crocs and the ‘stocks / a stiff upper lip / acerbic wit / ink stained fingertips / a jumped fence / flexible ethics