#and fail to grasp basic grammar somehow

[raven-eats-desks]

Okay this is a weirdly specific pet peeve but; I hate it when (professional) authors (who could do better) just cobble together a 'fantasy language' that is clearly just latin/ german/ [insert mainstream non-english european language here] by spelling the words weirdly/ overly phonetically. It's extra annoying when they then- by not doing their due diligence- end up muddling conjugations; and creating false languages with English grammar; mispelled words from [european language]; and somehow, 5 grammatical 'genders' because they've just been borrowing 'default' versions of languages.

The worst part is that I can't even be that pissed because I am equally lazy when it comes to language crafting but if you're not gonna try,, just don't try ;-;. I'd rather have author's notes explaining how "This phrase is actually translated from a made up language and more literally could be translated as this"; than some unhinged attempt at esperanto for your one shot minimal lore romantasy. Like, not every fantasy book needs a language!! Tolkien was just a dedicated nerd!!

[simonalkenmayer]

This Halloween marks the ten year anniversary of the day I began the experiment. It’s evolved a great deal, and this third iteration has proven the most useful, but truth be told, I’ve seen all I care to see.

Do you want to know a behavior you won’t see of me? I don’t go to other people’s blogs and leave hateful asks. In fact I haven’t ever used the anonymous feature even once. Do you want to know what else I won’t do? Air my grievances with people publicly before I take it up with them privately. Because it is basic decency to withstand the discomfort of confrontation in order to make certain you’ve heard everyone’s perception of events. What else do I not do? Read people’s blogs to nitpick or misrepresent what they say. I won’t correct spelling or grammar unless there’s some running joke. I don’t even follow a blog back unless invited to. I don’t seek out people. I don’t respond to anything but things said of me, specifically in order to generate conversation and keep this place one of discussion.

What do I do? Answer questions, share things I find interesting, make the odd joke, create a forum for bee and capybara lovers to sit and share. I speak out on social justice issues, keep people mindful of current events that will impact them or their loved ones. I share things I learn about the world. I tell people to be kind. I reblog pleas for financial help. I try to inform others how to escape abusive relationships and groups. I post music and art and food. My blog isn’t for me. It’s meant to be a place of discussion and community. It’s always been this way, from the beginning, and yet, somehow, because of the simple question “I am a monster and I eat people. Do you believe me?” my blog has become, of the last two years, a showcase for people using me as the fodder for their fetishistic enjoyment of making others suffer as much as they can.

The subterfuge they go through to make it happen is astonishing. Ive been sexulaized, stalked, sent all sorts of poisonous substances and dead things, been called every name you can think of, and accused of all manner of crimes, and yet have never once done anything I was accused of doing. I’ve watched people desperately try to solve the mystery, and become downright outraged when they can’t. I’ve seen people construct huge conspiracies and lies about my supposed identity, manufacturing evidence or just claiming they have the answer, in order to become some sort of what? Bully cult figurehead? Now there’s entire essays about how I dare defend myself from lies. Imagine the audacity of someone saying “roll over and take it just because I feel like giving it, and if you argue, you’re obviously a bad person”. I’ve even had a hate blog made about me for giving accurate and beneficial student loan information to a high school senior. I’ve seen people claim to have relationships with me, take their ire out on the people assisting me. I’ve even seen those people accused of heinous things. I’ve gone to a great many lengths to conceal myself from all of you, as I’ve said dozens of times, but it never fails that someone thinks they know the answer and wastes their time reveling in how completely immature and vindictive they can be without ever actually engaging with the sticky truth at the core of this.

I’ve been predicting it, waiting to see how long it would take for the behavior to reach a kind of critical abusive mass. But whatever it teaches me, it ought to at least educate you on the precise reason why I bothered to come here and do this in the first place, and why I was uniquely qualified. My qualifications include not giving a fuck what people think of me, and taking the time to learn what I could. They include wanting to shake you until you see what you’re doing and recognize your own toxic behaviors.

God damnit people. Learn for heaven’s sake. It amazes me you don’t have a better grasp of your own psychology. No wonder people from marginalized groups leave internet spaces. No wonder people commit suicide or harm others. No wonder the foreign fascist powers of this world have such an easy time manipulating your actions and ideas. No wonder you allow algorithms to polarize and indoctrinate you into extremism. There is almost no self-awareness anymore, no analysis, rampant narcissism. What are you doing to yourselves? Why?

What profit or joy does this weak-minded behavior give you?

[serialkillerinthemaking]

below the cut is my insanely long analysis of sa and its metaphors its bad but i did in an hour with a headache so it is what it is

analyzing sa even though it's been said so much it's redundant I just need a place to collect it all ya know

note: none of this is chronological to the story and its probably just going to be the song lyrics

there are many run-on sentences and grammar problems sorry. I'm writing this off the idea that everyone has a decent understanding of sa and its plot.

obviously, mama who bore is about Wendla’s mom not telling her about sex. mwbmr is the same thing except it shows none of the girl's mom tells them about sex.

all that's known starts with the boys robotically repeating Virgil's Aeneid before Melchior breaks out and starts singing. He explains that science and facts are pushed aside in favor of religion and his parents wanting him to fall in line and not question what is taught. that's the general theme of the song. he is determined not to become part of the hivemind and question what is taught. he wants to find and see and experience more than what they know of and are teaching in terms of the world and he himself.

He mentions the stars and them being sort of all-knowing. stars are brought up again in those you've known sort of being a metaphor for society and the children of his generation and the ones to come. In those youve known, he vows to read Moritz and Wendla's dreams to the stars because they are dead and can really communicate with him and therefore rely on him to spread the word of their thoughts and ideas and stories. this being a cautionary tale, those stories must be told.

he mentions the repression of free thought. children are naturally curious of the world around them but as they grow up the adults push them not to be and only to accept what we know now. he doesn't want to lose this and stop eternally searching for more. this is sort of put into the term "purple summer". meaning the story, the cause, the prevention, and the tragic beauty of the story. we'll come back to the meaning of purple summer itself.

he says one day all will know generally meaning what is happening beneath the surface and societies refusal to talk about it and explore it. in purple summer this comes back more concrete. instead of one day, more like a distant hope, he says all shall know. they will know now, soon, not one day in the distant future. In the end, his journey is complete and it goes from one day all will know to all shall know. 

tbol and my junk are pretty straight forward you guys don't need me for those.

touch me is basically about the yearning for sex and to know what is. there are some metaphors but they are pretty self-contained within the song itself and don't really have enough grasp on them to go too deep. either that or they're really not actually that deep lol.

woyb is basically about Melchior and Wendla wanting to be with each other and trying to resist the temptation because of oppression

The dark I know well is about the rape and sexual assault of Martha and Ilse at the hands of her father and artist friends, respectively. Again the song uses one central self-contained metaphor that is never brought up again in the context of the show and is pretty easy to understand. 

and then there were none has frau Gabor intermittently reading a letter she wrote in response to Moritz asking for money to escape. Moritz jumps in and sings his thoughts as he reads the letter and basically watches his last hope fall through. he feels she tries to sugarcoat the point of the letter. he is mad for saying things in an attempt to make him feel better and to try her best to help, such as writing a letter to his parents. she tells him she still cares for him but can't help him. he feels he has no other option left after failing his tests. you all know the plot you don't need me to explain it.

mirror blue night Melchior is horny blah blah blah I hate this song moving on

I believe while they disobey the church and its a church song irony yeah

(it's so late I'm sorry)

don't do sadness blue wind ohoho lets goooo

Moritz wishes to be a butterfly, no longer having to deal with life, and happily flying. he says he doesn't do sadness because he just can't handle it anymore. the failing the test hurt him and frau Gabor refusing to help was the straw that broke the camel's back. he can't take it anymore. Ilse comes in and sees he's sad. it's cold and dark outside symbolizing his current mood so she sings about the happiness of spring and summer to cheer him up. fall and winter are analogies for sadness and pessimism, spring and summer are happiness and optimism, hence spring awakening, the happiness coming back after the sad times. purple summer also references that but that's for later. she talks about when they were kids happily playing in the sun. wind, a cold sad month thing always comes back but it always goes away. happiness will always come and sadness will always go just like the seasons. Moritz is only living in fall and autumn, not seeing the spring and summer ahead. Ilse gets through her life through optimism relying on the blue wind never taking when it creeps up and always going away once again. and then it just kinda repeats you get the rest.

left behind. he never got to grow up and be an adult and its his parent's (mostly his dad's) fault. metaphor once again fully in the song not really brought up again.

you guys got the rest (more than sufficient critical conjecture on woybr) until WHISPERING whooo

she hears the ghosts because throughout she alive and dead. sort of. everyone is sad. she describes her family's grief at her funeral. the preacher uses her as a cautionary tale and warns others of her fate. they say she did bad things and this how she ended up. such a shame, such a sin. she feels powerless, like she didn't have a voice and only could do what was told of her. she didn't know any better despite her best efforts. she mentions summer longing in the wind. happiness being swept up by sadness was pretty much her whole "relationship" with Melchior.

👏those👏you've👏known

there is so much I'm just gonna analyze it line by line (i consider this the pinnacle of metaphors in theatre considering the buildup)

MORITZ

Those you’ve known

And lost, still walk behind you

All alone

They linger till they find you

self explanatory pretty much

Without them

The world grows dark around you

And nothing is the same until you know that they have found you

Melchior's world has crumbled, he feels like it never going to be the same without them, but he found them.

WENDLA

Those you’ve pained

May carry that still with them

All the same

They whisper: “All forgiven.”

He hurt her, and she's still hurting but she forgives him because there is love in heaven, all will be forgiven.

Still your heart says

The shadows bring the starlight

And everything you’ve ever been is still there in the dark night

everything she was was left behind, but she still finds it here.

WENDLA

When the northern wind blows

The sorrows your heart holds

There are those who still know –

They’re still home

We’re still home

he's still hurting, they're still there.

MORITZ (Sung In Counterpart)

Though you know

You’ve left them far behind

You walk on by yourself, and not with them –

Still you know

They will fill your heart and mind

When they say there’s a way through this

he's living and must continue without them but they are still there in his heart.

MELCHIOR, MORITZ AND WENDLA

Those you’ve known

And lost, still walk behind you

All alone

Their song still seems to find you

They call you

As if you knew their longing –

They whistle through the lonely wind, the long blue shadows falling

they are still there! 

MELCHIOR

All alone

But still I hear their yearning

Through the dark, the moon, alone there, burning

The stars too

They tell of spring returning –

And summer with another wind that no one yet has known

The stars are back! they are all knowing and tell of the sadness passing, the happiness returning, with something new.

(MORITZ and WENDLA Join with Counterparts)

They call me –

Through all things –

Night’s falling

But somehow I go on

You watch me

Just watch me –

I’m calling

From longing

a call back to all thats known

WENDLA (Sung in Counterpart)

When the northern wind blows

The sorrows your heart’s known –

I believe…

she still believes in forgiveness.

MORITZ (Sung in Counterpart)

Still you known

There’s so much more to find –

Another dream, another love you’ll hold

he doesn't have to be stuck on them and they are giving him permission to move on and find happiness again.

Still you know

To trust your own true mind

On your way – you are not alone

There are those who still know

a call back to all that's known, 

MELCHIOR (Sung Alone)

Now they’ll walk on my arm through the distant night

And I won’t let them stray from my heart

Through the wind, through the dark, through the winter light

I will read all their dreams to the stars

i dissected this line back in all thats known but STARS! they back

I'll walk now with them

I’ll call on their names

I’ll see their thoughts are known

they know now! all will know he knows and know they know! their story will be told!

WENDLA

Not gone –

Not gone –

they are still there!

MELCHIOR

They walk with my heart –

And I'll never let them go

they are still there!

I’ll never let them go

I’ll never let them go

You watch me

Just watch me

I’m calling

I’m calling –

And one day all will know

ALL👏WILL👏KNOW👏

P U R P L E  S U M M E R

purple has historically represented freedom, the kids now have freedom and summer here means happiness. so now they have both. purple summer is just yeah knowledge and freedom of oppression and the hivemind because this Germany 1890 bad (its a john Mulaney reference I'm so sorry im losing my mind)

And all shall know the wonder

I will sing the song of purple summer

All thats known, all will know all shall know. They will know because we will tell them.

And still, I wait

The swallow brings

A song of what's to follow -

The glory of the spring

The happiness! The knowledge! The freedom! Its coming! It waking it up! SPRING IS AWAKENING! ahhhhhhhhhh

[brightbeautifulthings]

"Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy."

Fun Fact: I ran a David Foster Wallace blog (andtoyouitsjustwords) for about two years while I was in graduate school. I closed it down and moved the content I wanted to this one when I finished school and realized I wanted to read Every Book Ever, not just the literary ones, but it was a fond time of my life, and he remains one of my favorite authors.

Tumblr doesn't have a large Wallace fandom, but @infinite-jest-again, @sylvanshiner, @gayjewish, and I are banding together for the summer's slowest rereading of Infinite Jest. I'm super excited to be revisiting a book that blew my mind the first time I read it--but I was also trying to pound it in a month on top of classes, thesis, and teaching. I expect this experience will be a lot more chill, and the slow pace will allow us to pick apart every detail (or, as Marie put it, to "notice the water " 😂). We'll be using the schedule designed by the Infinite Summer people, but where they average around fifty pages a day, we're giving ourselves a week for each benchmark for Infinite Slow Summer!

Week 1 (p. 1-63)

"I'd tell you all you want and more, if the sounds I made could be what you hear" (p. 9).

[tw: drug/addiction mention]

I love the first chapter of this book. Wallace really hits the ground running with what is chronologically the last event of the novel, and this scene sets up a near-endless string of questions for how we got to this place. It's clear that something terrible has happened to Hal Incandenza, and while he's having no trouble with a coherent thought process ("I am in here" (p. 3).), he is devastatingly unable to communicate with anyone in the room. I'd argue it could almost work as a short story because the metaphor made concrete is so strong. It's an inherent flaw of communication that what I'm saying may not be exactly what you're hearing, that there's always that gap, however small, in understanding another human. We've all felt that "familiar panic at feeling misperceived" (p. 8) at one time or another. For Hal, this is not a metaphor; it's terrifyingly physical. ("I am not what you see and hear" (p. 13).)

Somehow, Wallace manages to inject humor into a scene that, upon closer inspection, is utterly haunting, but the image of Avril Incandenza running around her garden screaming, "Help! My son ate this!" (p. 11) about a bit of basement mold never fails to make me laugh. The following Erdedy chapter also ends up being humorous with him splayed in indecision in the middle of the room (possibly another philosophical anecdote made concrete in Buridan's donkey). For both Hal and Erdedy, the ritual of getting high seems as addictive as the drug itself. It's reassuring, I think, to start the book off on a strong note, in case we worried we were in for a thousand pages of tedious slog. It can be both, but it's often heartfelt, insightful, and funny as well, and the payoff is well worth the effort. I could probably write paragraphs about every chapter in this section; I don't know how Wallace manages to pack every page with so much meaning, but there's nothing haphazard about this book, despite its size and varied focus. Everything seems to be there for a reason.

"...and some days presents with delusions about people's mouths moving but nothing coming out" (p. 30).

Hal's conversation with a professional conversationalist who turns out to be his father (J.O.I./Himself) is loaded with potential plot points and philosophical intention. J.O.I. is under the impression that Hal doesn't speak, but he seems to be alone in this; Hal is obviously talking to him in this scene, but the way that he talks is fascinating. As Marie pointed out, so many of the conversations in this book are non-conversations. All the characters struggle to communicate, and communication is a topic Wallace struggles with throughout his writing career. Hal has a really specific way of responding to how a person said something instead of what they said. He's commenting on the grammar and vocabulary of Himself's speech rather than on the content of it (grasping the mechanics more than the meaning, which is symbolic, basically, of Hal's entire problem), while Himself seems to have a pre-arranged script in his head regardless of the responses he gets from his son. The result is an utter failure to convey meaning on either side. Like a lot of Wallace stuff, it's funny on a surface level and haunting beneath that, since Hal and Himself's inability to talk to each other drives so much of the novel's conflict.

I'm including a Q&A section under the cut where I attempt to work out some of the major plot events of the story and keep track of the questions I have as I'm reading. However, since this is a reread for all of us, it will contain overall spoilers for the novel. Proceed with caution if you're not familiar!

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS. TURN BACK BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE.

Questions & Working Theories

[tw: drug mention]

Q: What happened to Hal? (Obvi) - Hal purposely ate the DMZ. He even says in this section, "I cannot make myself understood, now. Call it something I ate" (p. 10). I never bought this explanation, though, because later in the book it seems like Hal is making an effort to come off drugs. - The mold Hal ate as a child had long-term effects, and something (coming off drugs?) may have triggered his current condition. Also supported by, "Call it something I ate" (p. 10). - Aaron Swartz has a very convincing theory that Hal accidentally ate the DMZ when The Wraith placed it on his toothbrush. (Again, supported by above.) Hal is an excellent communicator but lacks feelings, and J.O.I. was attempting to create something that would draw his son out of himself. - Hal was injured when the A.F.R. attacked Enfield Tennis Academy. There's a weird line in this chapter: "I once saw the word KNIFE finger-written on the steamed mirror of a nonpublic bathroom" (p. 16). This is likely also the work of The Wraith, indicating some kind of violence, perhaps the A.F.R. attack on Enfield.

Q: Why was Hal hospitalized "almost exactly one year back" (p. 16)? - The side effects of the DMZ were first starting to appear. - Hal was injured in the A.F.R. attack.

It's clear, also, that this was when Hal met Gately. Although they never have an on-page scene together that I recall, Hal refers to the two of them attempting to dig up J.O.I.'s head to find the Entertainment, alongside a masked John Wayne.

Q: How did Gately, Hal, and John find out about the Entertainment in order to dig it up? How did they discover where it was hidden? - Himself actually mentions that the cartridge has been implanted in his head when he's talking to Hal as a posed conversationalist. However, this is all the way back in the Year of the Tucks Medicated Pad, when Hal is only ten-going-on-eleven. Hard to imagine that Hal remembered what was basically a throw-away comment, let alone understood its meaning.

Q: Who is mailing out the Entertainment? - Swartz suggests that it's Orin Incandenza, who later under threat of torture releases it to the A.F.R. This seems well-supported by the text, since the initial cartridge is mailed from Arizona, and it's conveniently sent to a medical attaché with whom Avril probably had an affair (per J.O.I.'s conversation with Hal).

Q: How did Orin find out about the Entertainment?

Q: What happened to John Wayne that he can't win this year's WhataBurger competition?

Q: What "sordid liaison" (p. 30) with the M. DuPlessis, who dies in a later chapter, did the Incandenza family have?

[fyrapartnersearch]

Cockadoodledoo, (M//M)

Hey! I’m Jonesy! I’ve posted on here before a few months ago, and I spoke with a number of people about starting RPs, and then some shit happened where I was literally unable to get to the computer, thus vanished for a while. For… four months. Yeah. (Anyone want to know what it’s like to wake up from a coma and get in a fist fight with a nurse because you have no idea what’s going on? Just ask.) Anyhoo, if I had something started with you, or even if we were just talking about starting something, and you want to hit me up again, please do! For time’s sake, I’m just gonna copy/paste part of my last advert, because… coughlazycough.

 I’m in my late 20’s and am looking for M// literate (advanced) rp partners, ages 25+ please. I do not fade to black or avoid mature themes. My writing style has a casual feel to it, but I use proper grammar, spelling, and punctuation, and I prefer that you have a good grasp on this, as well. I write third person paragraph style, and am looking for someone who likes world building and writing three dimensional characters. You know what I mean. If our characters walk into a town, I want to know who else is there, how the buildings are painted, what the air smells like. Take me to it. Paint me a worrrrrrddd pictuuuuureeee. If your character has a Maserati, I want to know how he treats it, how he drives it, and if he has that kind of money, why on EARTH would a Maserati be his car of choice?

 Absolute No’s: ….Well crap, I can never think of these until someone asks.

 Things I don’t like so much:

-Winey characters

-Super young characters

-Unrealistically serious characters

-Too much drama

-Posts that don’t move the story along (sometimes this is ok but not EVERY post…)

-Short posts.

-Spanish dudes (HA just kidding I LOVE spanish dudes.)

 Things I like:

-Spanish dudes

-All dudes

-Size differences

-Humor (Didn’t see that coming, did you?)

-Realistic dialogue*

-Open communication

 Genres I like:

-Sci fi

-Urban

-Steampunk

-Apocalyptical

-Dystopian

-Adventure

-Space stuff (This is its own genre, don’t argue with me.)

-Mild horror

 What I’m really craving right now is to use my character Ashby, and to find him a partner. I do have some other plots I’d like to write, or if you got something completely different and you want to run it by me, let me know! Worse that can happen is I’d say no. And then hunt you down and put sugar in your gas tank. (But mostly just say no.)

 So, Ashby. He’s a very complex character, thus kind of hard to explain while keeping it brief. Ashby Thornton Foster is a real strange creature. Not just because he’s very proper and likes to keep a position as the head butler in a household even though he probably has enough resources to never have to work ever. He’s tall, painfully handsome, with round antique glasses, and auburn hair. Sharp tongue, but can be a little daffy if you catch him off guard. He collects frightening tea pots, has been learning how to cook for 9 billion years but his chicken stew will probably send you to the can for the rest of the night, is excellent with mechanics and spends a lot of his free time tinkering, and has read almost every book ever written but can’t remember what happened in the last chapter of the one he’s currently working on. I should mention that this character is not human. He is a specific species of being that I created myself. I’ll go into it if you’re interested, but the basics are that he has handsomely jagged teeth, large amber eyes, and claw like nails that often lead him to be mistaken as a vampire, however when he shifts out of his human form, he looks more like a sphynx cat and a lady got together. That sounds awful, but he’s actually quite exquisite. (NOT a furry. He just looks a tad strange and has interesting legs.) Ashby is very sweet natured but runs a strict household. He is well respected and well loved.

 Ashby has a dark side to him that’s very calculated, very… intentional, if you know what I mean. He has the ability to make you the happiest person alive, but can turn around and cause you a lot of pain and suffering if you give him reason to. Battling with his darker side is a constant struggle. As far as a romantic interest for him, I usually play him as a switch, however he likes pretty masculine men (or beasties) who have the ability to dominate HIM because he doesn’t often run across many who can do so. (And I don’t just mean with sex. He can physically f*ck you up.) I would love to find him someone who can both talk him out of those times when shit gets a little too dark, but can also overpower him if need be.

 Usually, I play Ashby in a steampunk setting, and he’s the head butler of a household he runs pretty tightly, but I can also play him in other settings. He translates well. So if you’d like to Rp him in another setting, let me know! This character comes with an identical twin (Molocai, who prob won’t appear) and a Soul Eater character, who sets up camp in whatever town he settles in due to being promised his soul whenever he shuffles off his mortal coil. They’re best friends. (It’s a long story.)

 Here were some of the other stories I had ideas for, but if none of them tickle your pickle and you think we’d be a good RP match, let me know, anyway and we can do something else!

Made for one another:

Could fall under sci fi, apocalyptical, dystopian, adventure, hell it could fall under all of them. I have a really loose idea for this one. Two characters are genetically made for one another. Not romantically, but as in two parts that make up a whole. Both are genetically engineered to do something different, but both of their abilities need to be combined for whatever final outcome to happen. (The outcome being what they were created for.) Reasoning behind this was that maybe one person having both abilities, or the one ability that the both of them make up, would overload their system and kill them. Or significantly harm them in some way. Thus, two genetically engineered people were created.

The loose plot I had for this was that maybe one character has escaped the facility that created them. (Escaped a long time ago, perhaps.) This facility has some major unethical and downright inhumane practices (like lab growing people.) Character A. we’ll call him, decides to destroy the place, maybe from the inside out. (Perhaps he’s some kind of mercenary or rogue whatnot, living his life in secrecy so no one from said facility finds him, blah blah.) Ever see Alien Resurrection? With that scene where Ripley goes into the lab and finds all the failed experiments?.... No? Just me? Okay. Anyway, so while Character A. is torching the place, he finds Character B, who is the only experiment alive. He can’t just leave him there to die, so he takes him with him. That’s how they meet, but I don’t have much else for a plot for this story, other than that I see Character A as being kind of an asshole so they struggle a lot and much later they discover they’re literally made for one another.

 Mad Max:

This would be sort of based on the Mad Max world (as in the 2015 movie, even though I do so love the originals) though not using any of the characters, places, or… you know, anything. The world is a wasteland, but it’s not oil/gasoline that’s the hot commodity, it’s water. The wasteland is filled with different tribes, none of them very nice unless you belong to one of them. This pairing would be a character that’s kind of like Max, a lone wolf who belongs to no tribe and wanders, and…. I dunno, I guess he would be a POW? He’s a warrior from another tribe that was captured. Character A stops (cautiously) in one of the territories to trade for water and supplies. Character B is pretty roughed up and knows he’ll eventually end up dying if he doesn’t get away somehow, so his main objective is to get Character A to trade for him. Obviously, this eventually happens. Character A discovers that Character B has something that would be useful to him (maybe it’s just knowledge of mechanics and whatnot) so he ends up trading for him. Plot twist! They end up HATING one another. And maybe Character A finds out that Character B was lying all along and can’t really do the thing Character A traded him for, however now they’re stuck together, because they’re crossing the wasteland.

 Space Pirates (Totally not nerdy AT ALL.)

I have a space captain. He’s an alien. He has a super cool space ship and a super cool crew. His species is rarely seen in this part of the galaxy, usually they are a very secretive race living in deep, deep space, that remain secluded, however Janka has been exiled, and now creates a lot of havoc and headaches for anyone he encounters. I have a real old descrip of him from… jesus, like 2010 that I haven’t updated, but I’ll send it if he sounds interesting! Anyway, he’s a sarcastic, lazy sh*tface, kinda pretty gross without meaning to be, but he’s a real loveable character. Likes blowing things up. Kind of clumsy, which isn’t the best thing for someone who’s built like he is. He’s well known in space ports all over, so he sticks to the real shady ones, where he’s somewhat popular. This character comes with an entire crew, and bonus interesting genitalia. He really needs someone to take care of him (emotionally.) Very hard headed when it comes to relationships (“What? No, I didn’t get you anything for your birthday. You said not to get you anything.”) but when he falls for someone, he falls hard.

 *Please note that all of my characters are usually in their late twenties or older with VERY few that are mid-twenties. I also do not play with younger characters, and prefer them to be around the same age category.

 *Let me explain about the realistic dialogue. Two OC’s walk into a bar. My OC walks up to the bartender and says “Ay, Sugartits, I’ll have the usual.” Your OC says “I will have a beer.” Unless your OC is either a.) An android or b.) Two 12 year olds in a big coat, or c.) Horribly constipated, he’d better say something an actual human being would say. “I’ll have a beer.” “Gimme a beer.” “Just whatever you got on tap.” “Uh… Beer’s fine.” Don’t make your character sound like they’re reading a bad script.

 If I haven’t scared you off, shoot me an email at Geisterkommandant@hotmail.com

My RP mediums are usually Skype, Email, and I can be persuaded into Discord.

 And just to clarify. Gay RP. Plot before Porn. Thank you

[nea-writes]

Hi! I've got an AU ask for Linkllen week: If Prince Neah goes missing and needs a double until he's found, how does his attendant/personal guard Link do in making a nearly identical commoner, Allen, a convincing Neah? Allen may or may not have been coerced into playing this part by a royal advisor. Link's main assignment is to make Allen pass for the prince at an upcoming ball to be attended by the royal court and nobles from neighboring countries. (pls disregard this if it's uninteresting;;)

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I LOVE THIS 

rubs m hands all over it, im absolutely going to take this, thank you

I had so many thoughts for this at once that it overloaded and now I can’t focus on a single one aside from (read for more)

“You don’t know how to dance?”

“Of course not, Link. When would I have had the chance to learn?”

“You don’t know how to dance?”

“Of course not, Link. When would I have had the chance to learn?”

Allen’s defensive, which is fair enough since Link came at the question with such incredulity. He holds back a sigh and eyes Allen up and down, trying to ascertain where they should even begin. “…if you know nothing, then starting you from scratch is easier than having you unlearn terrible habits. Perhaps it’s for the best. Then, shall we start?”

Allen blinks, eyes wide and mouth slack with not only hesitance, but disbelief. “You’re going to teach me?”

Link scowls. “I’m perfectly capable of not only dancing the waltz and other ballroom styles, but also of teaching it. Come here, Walker.”

With less confidence in his steps than Link would like, Allen crosses the short distance, stopping short of Link. His eyes flutter from Link’s, to his hands, across the room and then back. Then, with a settling breath, Allen dispels his nerves and meets Link’s steady gaze with resolve. “Prove it, then.”

It’s another test, one of the endless many Allen keeps subjecting Link to. He never quite knows if he passes or fails, or even what the tests are for, but there’s something weighty in Allen’s gaze, something indecipherable and heavy when it falls on Link. Lifting one hand shoulder level, Link reaches and, shoving down the brief flutter of hesitation in the vicinity of his chest, grasps Allen’s waist with his other hand, pulling him closer.

It was too rough and Allen stumbles forward, catching himself just short of falling on Link’s chest. “Relax, Walker,” Link grits out, squeezing the hand he holds. “No one’s watching.”

“That’s the problem,” Allen mutters to his feet before drawing himself up square. “I don’t suppose you’ll be dancing the woman’s part?”

Link almost quirks a smile. “Let’s figure out the steps before moving forward.” Then, with a repetitive one two three four— Link pushes Allen backward, guiding him slowly through the proper steps.

Despite how utterly frustrating Allen could be with his lies and misdirection, he’s quite good when given a task to focus on. It takes little to no time before Allen catches onto the four-step, leagues better than it took him to understand basic grammar. 

“There we go,” Link murmurs, watching Allen’s feet as they glide through the rhythm. 

Then, he makes the mistake of glancing up.

Allen’s watching Link.

Link falters, eyes catching on Allen’s storm cloud gray ones. 

“Link,” Allen says.

Before he can reply — nothing, there’s absolutely nothing on his mind, thoughts gone and all he can think is how gray, how deep, how soft Allen’s eyes are — the door to the ballroom slams open.

Link stiffens and immediately pulls away, finally breaking whatever had been building between them.

That aside, there’s so much to delve into here.

Dining manners, fine eating, the names of nobles, family members, current politics, how to dance, how to talk, how to walk (laugh). Then, there’s even Neah’s mannerisms Allen would have to learn.

It’s alarming how quickly Allen catches onto Neah’s personality.

Link had been by Neah’s side for years now, but even he still questions Neah’s motives for why he does what he does.

Allen, however, is right on the nose.

He smiles, frighteningly like Neah, and Link feels his heart in his throat, roaring in his ears. This isn’t Allen. It’s as if he’s somehow breathed Neah to life, replaced all of himself until all that remains is the wicked grin of the prince Link had served. 

“Link,” Neah demands, smile curling and sharp, “don’t tell me you’re going soft on me now, after all these years?”

“Never,” Link says, tongue numb, lips moving to a rote. 

“Good,” Neah is glittering, like he’s been given all he ever wanted, like he’s got the world cradled in his palm. “Prove it, then.”

Neah holds his hand out, fingers almost curling with indolence, and Link barely thinks before he’s kneeling, grasping Neah’s hand, fingers curling around his, and kissing the back of it tenderly. 

“I see,” Link hears whispered above him. “No wonder he nearly stayed.”

When Link glaces up, whatever doubt, fear, hesitance, that had tainted his voice before is gone, expression cleared. 

It almost feels as if he lost Allen.

It’d be a story like the prince and the pauper. Neah meets Allen, his nearly twin, and runs away for a taste of freedom. Allen takes his spot, but the longer he stays, the harder it’ll be the leave. He’d never expected to grow attached to Link, or the noah, or the life with the fine dining, good food, soft sheets and softer bed, to the man kneeling before him with his lips against the back of his hand. Allen’s too soft and Neah’s a fool to think he could’ve held himself above it all.

THIS GOT P LONG LOL but I LOVE THE IDEA thank you bianca, this is beautiful. I hope I understood the au the way you intended it,,,

[identitycris1s]

im back

hi just thought id pop in with a status update! maybe i’ll break this down into categories. feel like im doing an email update (ew!) but this rly is probs the best way to structure this post...

work / school (?)

work has been....aite. idk what to say. idk if i have unrealistic expectations of what work is supposed to be, but the idealist in me thinks its wrong to not even try and find something that seems meaningful / is deeply fulfilling. i think im mature enough to get that work isnt supposed to be fun / exciting every single day but bro this daily grind / sense of dread / utter disinterest / feeling of futility / frustration / disenchantment surely isnt the correct state of affairs.....at least let me try and find something that is a better fit, thats more stimulating, that feels more NATURAL to me? i just dont think im cut out to be a lawyer. sure i sometimes like arguing and making my point and i like that everyone i work with is smart and interesting and generally kind and reasonable and i like the prestige of the job and feeling like ppl respect me and i like the decent pay and the humane hours but.....i feel unmotivated to be a good lawyer. i think i find it difficult / disingenuous to always 100% get behind my client and advocate for their best interests. i tend to see things from a zoomed out perspective, like WHY are we fighting, WHY cant we just settle, WHY are the claimants pursuing this absolutely crap and unmeritorious claim and WHY do we have to defend it when its stupid and bound to fail (cos access2justice i guess but still, WHY), WHY cant we just hash things out in a meeting instead of sending emails here and there and wasting time, WHY do we have to answer stupid questions, WHY WHY WHY

and i think public policy is sort of an answer to that....i think theres more questioning of why we do things and why a policy will or will not work, in a macro sense - what is good for society at large. whereas in law (at least in litigation) its how can we just move this case forward and help the client, which is often not the most productive thing to do in a macro sense - very much a zero sum game. i get that shitty / unmeritorious claims still need to be defended against and someone has to do it and I GET IT but i just dont think i want to be that person defending these claims...or bringing them for that matter.....ultimately i cant fully / sincerely separate the overarching sense of futility from the duty to do a good job.

sigh. well at least ive kind of figured out this isnt for me. which is scary cos being a lawyer in this firm is pretty much a career for life - truly an iron rice bowl, i could probably make partner in maybe 4 or 5 years and live a comfortable upper middle class life...but i cant bring myself to do that. i cant bring myself to not give myself a shot at doing something i actually find interesting, stimulating and that i care about deeply. call me crazy! we’ll see where this brings me in 5 years’ time....:) 

anyway most ppl at work (at least in my team) know that im most likely gonna leave soon. i rly only told 2 ppl (my boss cos he had to sign off on my testimonial and G cos she was quitting anyway)...but somehow ppl found out one way or another. i dont rly mind and ppl have been taking it pretty well and have been kind and encouraging (i guess why would they not take it well, im hardly indispensable) but i get a bit antsy thinking - what if i dont get in...then what? do i just put my head down and continue here (BUT IM SO SAD) or do i just quit without any prospects and try to find a policy-ish job??

idk. will have faith that God will put me where I need to be. he is in control of it all and I BELIEVE THIS !!! I am just a bit scared that his plan is different from what i  think i want....but this is just my human instinct and i know in my head that there is no reason to be scared cos his plan is always the better one. head knowledge just needs to translate to heart understanding and real trust / faith.

ermmm relationships...???

i started using...cmb...idk why i find this so cringey. i guess about a year ago i couldnt imagine doing this and i kept thinking EW what if ppl i know see me and they think im a desperate saddo who cant find a bf irl and has to resort to an app EW shes so lame and ugly and gross. and i realised that is so stupid no one actually thinks that way and its very backward and dumb and insecure of me to be thinking that. and anyway as i get older i rly dont quite give a shit what ppl think of me (at least i tell myself that....)

i suppose i was also inspired by csm who has been quite actively using apps and meeting ppl and taking real..strides..(LOL) in her dating life. i used to tell myself hey God will provide u with a mans if he wants u to be with a mans. but also God can use an app to do that...and if i dont step out in faith that he will do something and i dont take any action at all, how is God gonna work?? should i sit at home and expect a man to fall into my lap??

for some ppl it has been way easier, e.g. my parents meeting in uni and falling i love. i always wanted that - the organic relationship, the meet-cute, the friends to lovers thing. (i guess i tried that last one before and it didnt work...) but i think theres no point in romanticising relationships anymore. thats a very modern thing to do and its not necessarily a good thing? like who’s to say a relationship that had organic beginnings is intrinsically better than one that started from an app?

anyway i havent had much luck haha i think its hard to find genuine GCBs (or maybe theyre just not attracted to me....) although recently ive been talking to this one guy B for a week or two and its been...ok i guess. hes rly nice and seemed cool at first - we talked about travelling and hamilton and the office, which was a good start. he is thoughtful and kind and doesnt seem to be put off by my very slow replies (he replies so fast......its stressful a bit) and he does the whole good morning text thing (which i frankly find a bit bizarre, we barely know each other..?? and ive never even met him irl.. but its sweet i guess :))

but DUDE his english seems to be not great - at least thats the impression i get from texting him. which is an issue for me. i dont want it to be BUT IT IS...first red flag was when he said some weird thing about not wanting to wear a mask at work (not a literal mask - like he didnt know if he could be his ‘true self’) and the wording was very strange. then he said “the weekends are almost here” ?? the weekend is not a plural though? then he used the wrong tense a few times and his apostrophe usage was wrong (”Gods’ love” - bro there is one God). he also uses way too many commas which irks me.

i mean i get that text is supposed to be an informal medium - come on look at this post, there r hardly any capital letters and plenty of short forms and hardly any apostrophes but u see its CONSISTENT and its obviously cos of laziness / convenience - but i think his problem is a bit different...u can sort of tell if someone doesnt have a 100% strong grasp of english. those r basic grammar mistakes man...i get that i sound petty and stupid and this isnt a huge deal but i feel like im settling by even talking to him cos this is not something i wld normally tolerate but hey maybe im getting desperate with age :(:(:( urgh 

on the other hand maybe i just need to be more generous with ppl and l have an irrationally high standard for english cos i am a lawyer and my friends all speak well / text well?? maybe im just being too nitpicky?? honestly hes very nice  and communicative and straightforward and seems mature and very God-fearing and idk why hes still talking to me cos ive been a bit cold and slow to respond. hes very patient which i dont rly deserve.....i myself have a million flaws that are probably way worse and egregious (ahem PRIDE...ahem ego....ie the source of this dilemma in the first place...) so maybe i should just close one eye abt the bad grammar.

i also realised how fked up i am - confirmed my suspicion that i am naturally attracted to emotionally unavailable ppl / ppl that just seem distant / out of reach (thats my avoidant attachment style right there). i think there was one day he didnt text me at all and omg...i couldnt stop thinking what i did wrong...like did i piss him off by being too cold for too long...did he get scared off cos i said i wanted to do a masters (idk this seemed like an irrational leap but i was being irrational)..then i started being nicer to him and replied more promptly hahaha turns out he was just rly bz at work that day. omg this pattern is real i think i did this with xj also - was eager to speak when he was in japan but after meeting irll i was just over it... (i am drawn to distance like a moth to a flame and i am repelled by availability like....a fire by a fire extinguisher (??)). yucks i rly hate myself sometimes but yknow what at least im self aware and im trying to fix this...kind of.. gonna hash this avoidant thing out with my therapist at the next sesh.

on the topic of xj i got a bit nostalgic and wondered why we stopped speaking (surprise surprise it was my fault, didnt reply then felt it had been left to long to pick it up again...) went back to look at our texts and aw we rly got along so well, i do miss him as a friend and im sorry about how poorly i treated him especially in dec 2018 / jan 2019 sigh.....i was a real bitch....

anyway im just gonna see how things go with B... if he asks me out i prob will go... just to give it a shot. update if / when that happens!

EDIT - he asked me out lol we shall see how it goes. 

[ld-pandamao]

Daily Report 19—Tuesday, April 7th, 2020

   Somehow, I want to stop writing this blog. It makes sense that I have this sentiment. After all, I’ve slowly drifted away from my previous goals; this is the only one left to lose. Perhaps not the only one, but one of the last. The cracks have already begun showing through the constant late posts, and the numerous contentless, meaningless ramblings just trying to fill up 500 words.    I do not want to stop. Rather, I feel like I cannot stop. I am still hung up on the fear that were I to stop this, something as simple as 1,000 words per day, I would not be able to accomplish anything more difficult and meaningful, regardless of freed up time or different circumstances in the future.    That is why I have been pushing myself, writing down random ramblings with naught but determination and stubbornness. Media portrays persistence as the key to everything, but truly, it is not. Persistence can grind a boulder into a needle, but it would be much more efficient to simply go and buy a needle, or fashion one by melting some alloy. That needle would be stronger too.    Anyway, I may be able to accomplish a little through persistence. I might be able to memorize a mere few hundred words or grasp the basic grammar rules of another language, I might be able to tidy up my living space and organize a daily schedule, I might be able to run through some simple exercise routines, but that does not mean I have accomplished anything. Language mastery is much more difficult. My exercise routines are weird stagnant, much like my schedules, which are meaningless if I cannot muster up the willpower to follow it through wholeheartedly.    Tenacity is not the answer. Perhaps Passion is, at least, a little bit closer to the answer. When one is passionate about the topic, daily routines revolving around it do not seem like a chore. Instead, it is enjoyable. The allotted time lapses yet one still wishes to continue. That is why Passion is so amazing.    Yet I do not grasp it well. Instead, I get sparks of inspiration. Inspiration may lead to Passion, but it does not guarantee it. Thus, I follow little sparks of inspiration and start projects at random whims, but never see them through because that spark fizzles out long before it may evolve into Passion. Then, it becomes a chore. It spreads like a plague too, the counterpart to a wildfire, dousing everything until everything seems a chore, and I am left tired once again, of everything.    How annoying.    Well, this is my Passion Project. I am going to find a Passion and I am going to keep posting messy rambles that make me cringe. However stupid, however cliche, however many different manners and times that I fail...    ...    ...    ...I will probably give up at some point.    But for now, it is just one unbalanced step in front of another. Hoping for a better tomorrow.

[robsonnwty900-blog]

What else you know about Farm Expert 2017

As a youngster, did anyone actually dream of increasing up to become a farmer, wasting your date charging near the support garden on your toy tractor with attempting to catch sheep in a regional field to bring home with you? No, right us? So never mind, even though this was there the childhood ambition, Farm Expert 2017 gives you the possibility to have then control your very own farm! The action is nicely varied, with you having to fully prepare fields before plants can be expanded, to making sure you sell livestock before they move very ancient with go down, that competition will certainly boost the organisational skills.

Farm Expert 2017's been buried, cultivated and gathered by Silden and sold on the local produce industry by PlayWay S.A.,FE17 certainly experience a little preliminary appeal for those who have a good simulation game. The game boasts some rather beneficial impression as far as the weather is concerned, a ready soundtrack each time you hop into the tractor and ample to do and keep people tiling away for hours on end.

However, all these pieces are allowed behind beside approximately unfortunate and persistent bugs, together with some very horrendous running and physics for the vehicles. And though it is very varied, it suffers from the lack of depth which could give a little underwhelmed. There is also a multiplayer look to the game, though causing it to actually work becomes far more akin to dark secret than computer games.

With no story to talk about let's walk well down to the nitty-gritty of what we can do in the game. Since there is quite a bit. Now otherwise I right start, I do first want to come orderly then participation that became my own primary ever really farming sim game (unless I can count Stardew Valley?) so I just want to step forward also shout sorry for any really noob-like comments. Start about…

Setting up is beautiful easy, with fill in you're met with a menu asking to build a profile which is a question of forming a call also becoming by here. FE17 enjoys a number of modes you can choose from including Free Journey and Multiplayer (I'll talk more about the multiplayer in the time). For me, but, the first go-to room stayed the Tutorial. There's a bit of a language barrier with about incorrect cause and grammar, but when you walk beyond that that all relatively easy. This did, but, carry me on five minutes to figure out just how to help undo as I stupidly believed it was a basic WASD setup rather than having to press Z first in order to change government. Yet considering these hiccups, I did get myself enjoying the game. There's something strangely satisfying about having to go through the motions of reversing up to a piece of equipment, problem it in place, folding this away and then merrily tootling coupled to help the ground used for a living work.

Once I had grasped the basics of truly shifting and farming, I jumped organized in work my own fully-fledged farm. You get several options to take from, basically ranging from Easy to Hard. Naturally, as a complete amateur, I vote for the Calm solution. Thanks to the choice I started out with a sizable figure of notes and a good healthy total of systems already in my possession, so I could push right on with believe the head field, gathering a few plants and dealing with work. I found myself rather having my time as a character, finally doing our aim of need a tractor.

But, I gradually started to see several factors. For beginners, the selling of the systems is simply not up to scratch, especially for the way that you'd think would be easy except for many ungodly reason cause the cars to bump along constantly. The game also makes seem to element in the combined power of incidents you hitch upon the tractor, allowing you to accelerate in much the same time as you normally would. After a while, I learned that the physics in the activity might cause some rather horrendous cock-ups.

And later on, I and found out that the land actually held absolutely no influence on the quickness regarding your own vehicle, allowing you to charge full speed up high hill then carry on your own mini-adventure…

So sure, the real physics with the entertainment put something to get desired. But the true gameplay is pretty varied. So if you don't want to really need around standing and collect crops all the time, then no worries! You can go into animal husbandry having a little different options that animals to hold and making sure to keep them fed as well as pushing them for meat otherwise they fail of ancient time. Before you can grow orchards to make your delicious fruit, having to fertilize and understand the make yourself, and even have to lug the envelope to the truck! But maybe you do just want to staff with mild old-fashioned crop farming, in which case you have to choose your plants depending on the season, carefully cultivate fields properly and then make sure not to stretch them over or else they'll be ruined!

There's also vehicle maintenance and concern to take into thought, so you have to cram up your tractor with gas to maintain it moving, make sure this wonderful and fresh (as obviously, this is valuable for tractors?) as well as repair or better that now and again to make life easier.

Pretty varied, absolutely? Right. Unfortunately, this kind does not change to detail or order. So sure, you can raise the plants, care for dog with produce fruit orchards. But there's no selection in rate in the shops, so there's no need to research for improved purchase or market cost what every shop will give the same results. This lack of economy frankly lets down the whole process. The dog do need food, but not any run before time outside their pens. You don't even have to supply them yourself because everything you buy gets automatically transferred to the pencils then the animals somehow get approach for the food themselves. And with orchards, after growing and fertilizing them there's nothing else you really need to do until they're prepared to be accepted. That lack of depth turns the game into other of your calendar watching experience.

You can hire a workforce to help you out, watching them start their do is vaguely interesting at first, but soon loses its novelty. Other NPCs in the game don't offer any relationship with Real Farm basically, doing to now hear and give the world a air of go. Without success, I must tell.

There is too supposed to be a multiplayer part on the sport, but lord only gets how we may really join people. I've trawled many forums with others say related issues with no resolution forthcoming. Multiplayer becomes amazing that was added last minute, so perhaps it will be improved in the future?

The first thing I'd influence is that the game does not really have the most amazing video, with some of the textures looking very complicated and a good few popping issues going on. But I'd ponder the vehicles looked very good generally, and the weather effects were fairly well done. There's something oddly fascinating about watching puddles form with a subject while that raining.

It also take many terra-forming effects as well, so when you're preparing your take some of the machines you use actually found trenches and other changes in the soil, that changes the way the vehicle can make over them, which is very awesome. Then starting what I understand by making a bit of look at, something which makes take place in Farming Simulator games or new competitors. Character standards are pretty ordinary and forgettable, but besides the pointless NPCs, there's not really enough characters about to take much notice.

I personally acquire the soundtrack really enjoyable. There was something mildly entertaining about the music opening up when you hopped in your tractor. The fact that the strait of your engine changes depending on whether your secret or outside the vehicle was fairly nice too. But, once you perceived the looping positive impact, it leaves as a bit annoying. Also, when you got out of the tractor your personality would for some reason believe they were flying and meet the right sound. As well as that a number of the cars which gave absolutely no doors still played the door shut sound each time you got off. A problem for me, but still a problem.

Due to the lack of exposure to previous farming sim games, I found myself enjoying Farm Expert 2017 at first, but when I had partaken in all the changed tasks I found myself getting bored pretty at once. And eventually a number of the error could confirm to be quite frustrating. If that match lived a bit more polished and included some detail added to it, then I would undoubtedly charge that higher. The multiplayer certainly feels tacked with and the main experience just becomes a bit of a drag eventually.

[sunkissis]

Bonjour guys,

I’ve had the most formidable (as the French say), chill summer. We hosted many special and dear friends and family that we ended up staying in Paris all summer. I started a new venture called Mon Ami Paree walking tours and this weekend we are hopping on a train for our 17th wedding anniversary. It’s completely bananas to me that I have done anything for as long as seventeen years but I’ve been with lovely Antz for half of my life so I consider myself lucky. I’ve been thinking about how I am getting closer to the midpoint of my life (fifty is creeping on me) and all the things I’ve learned, failed and grown from. Here’s my list of real talk life advice that have shaped me thus far.

Don’t pick at your face. I am so old school in my skin regime that I still use toothpaste on my pimples and I never touch my face. Now that I live in a city without a car, I feel the dirt and sun more than ever. So, everyday I wash my face with Bliss fab foaming 2-in-1 cleanser & exfoliator with bamboo buffers  (I bought a huge bottle before we left LA) and moisturize with my Holy Grail Aveeno Positively Radiant Sheer Daily Moisturizing Lotion. That’s it! I try my best not to frown but I am embracing my laugh-line wrinkles.

Manners first in everyday situations. When I was 11, I spent a summer in Oklahoma with my Grandmother’s sister. My Great-Aunt was super traditionally strict and she basically put me in charm school boot camp that summer. No elbows on the table, ask to be excused from the table and always say Good morning when you greet someone. These are no-brainer rules for Liv, lucky me I rarely have to remind her but it’s such a dying part of our society. Bring a gift the first time you visit someone’s house, hold the door for people struggling, make eye contact when you speak to someone. So many people have a hard time learning names but I always say the person’s name when we meet to remember it. I also write myself notes to remind myself (cute family we met at the park with two kids and live in the 2eme). Please learn a strong handshake. When I meet someone with a weak handshake I want to head bump them so hard. How far will you get in life with that weak grip? I don’t trust weak hand shakers. I often have to catch myself from saying “Bless you” out loud when someone sneezes on the bus because I get such strange looks (I forget, no one speaks English). One of the most charming things I appreciate here in Paris is you must always speak to a shopkeeper or bus driver when you enter. I also love how people offer their seats to elderly or pregnant women without a thought. From my observations, pregnant ladies get treated like princesses here. Remember, politeness goes a long way and shows integrity.

Always bring a umbrella! I have learned the hard way so many times since I moved to this land of unpredictable rain. I have gotten caught in rain and hailstorms without even a jacket. I am so LA that I forget to wear a jacket when I leave the house and the sun is shining bright. Little did I know it can take less than an hour for the weather to take a major turn. We have acquired so many cheap umbrellas because we get caught in the rain. Now we carry a bag every time we go out with two small umbrellas, a pack of wet wipes, portable phone charger and cords, hand sanitizer, our table tennis rackets (almost every park has a table) and a water bottle. These things used to live in the trunk of my car but now I have to schlep everything myself.

Invest in quality lip balm. I used to throw Vaseline on my lips if they were chapped for years in my twenties. Then I got an Anthropologie gift card for my birthday so I bought some fancy Smith Rosebud Salve. I loved the smell of the balm but the container would get bent in my bag and it was too cumbersome and messy to open. So when I found EOS in sweet mint at Target, I was addicted. I literally brought 20 of them to Paris with me because I fear running out. My Mom even sends me more in my care packages because she knows I am obsessed. Find a quality lip balm and never leave home without it in your purse. Trust me, I had to stop at a 24 hour grocery store to buy some lip balm while I was on my way to the hospital when I was in labor with Liv.

My Mommy keeps me stocked with LA necessities.

Don’t buy something with the hope of losing weight to wear it later. I bought a cute baby doll dress from Target thinking, it’s so cute and not expensive, I’ll lose some weight in my arms and be able to wear it in a few months. That dumb dress sat in my closet for five years. Why mentally psyche yourself up for something you can’t enjoy now? I no longer starve myself, or beat myself up about my weight. I am healthy and loved. I walk more now than I ever did and I feel great in my clothes. The apparel industry has come around to accepting that all women aren’t size six, so I feel great about being able to buy clothes that don’t look matronly or feel left out of what the cool girls are wearing. I was even asked to try-on clothes for two brands I adore (my darlings at Ace & Jigand Ban.do)  This 42 year old lady is still as rad as I was at 22!

Never not wearing my favorite Ace & Jig dress

Embrace your quirky self! I used to have an unhealthy relationship with my hair. I have bleached it to death, chemically straightened it for years and mistreated it out of sheer laziness. The straw that broke my hair unhappiness was in January 2017. I was putting a chemical straightener on my hair when I had to take off my Olivia pendant necklace (the chemicals would ruin it)  I somehow lost my necklace that day so I vowed to never use that stupid (and damaging) stuff again. I haven’t put any chemicals or color on my hair since then. I replaced my necklace too. When I want to change my look, I get colorful braids. Now that I live in a more humid climate (my hair literally turns into a mushroom the second I go outside)

I’ve learned to embrace my natural curls. I have an established hair routine that I do once in a while because I’m still lazy but the less I mess with my hair the stronger and healthier it’s been. I bought products I know keep my dry, damaged hair moisturized and leave it alone. I broke my expensive flat iron when I first moved her because of the dumb voltage. I bought a new Euro flat iron but it doesn’t work as well as my old one so I decided, why go through the time and energy trying to make my curly hair straight? Now I throw tons of leave-in conditioner in my hair, or sometimes I wear flexi rods overnight and poof! I’m little orphan Lizzie.

Young Lizzie and Lizzie in her 20s (with extensions)

I’ve retired my signature braids for the summer to give my hair a rest and let it breathe. Braids are a protective hairstyle in the Black hair community but they can also cause breakage if you use the wrong type of hair or have them braided too tight. Plus they are annoyingly hot.

Please for the love of God know the difference between homophones (words that sound the same but are spelled and mean different things!) I am in a Facebook travel group and when I see adult people typing “I waisted a ticket because the whether was bad,” I have a brain meltdown. Listen, I am no grammar snob, I am completely aware my spelling is atrocious (thanks autocorrect for fixing that for me) and I am a serial run-on-sentence writer, but if you aren’t sure (NOT SHORE) which word to use, take a second and Google it. It took me years to grasp the difference between stationary and stationery. I subscribe to Word Genius which emails me a new word a day. I really wish I had a reason to use the word hornswoggle on my blog. Learn new things all the time.

Master your penmanship. I may sound so old-fashioned and prissy in my unsolicited advice but have you ever tried to read a doctor’s prescription? I now live in a country where they write in lovely italic cursive however, I can’t tell an S from an R. Liv has beautiful penmanship, I have always instilled taking pride in your handwriting in her from an early age yet the French education system has taken over and she writes so teeny tiny, I can’t figure it out. I bought her a calligraphy set and she loves to practice writing fancy.

Not everyone is going to like you. Believe it or not this is hard for extroverts like myself to accept. I can be hypersensitive and get anxiety around new people. I am an only child so my friendships are everything to me. I have been told that I am a people person but I really have a small inner circle of only about five or six people who really know the real uncensored me. I’ve had to deal with people flaking on me, people mischaracterizing me and many people doubting me for years. My confidence comes from learning self-trust. I am okay being the loud girl who listens to weird music or dresses like a toddler obsessed with rainbows, that is who I am, not sorry about it. I can’t help but be selfish about my happiness. I try my best to set an example for my (sometimes shy and quiet) daughter because growing up is hard and things like bullying, eating disorders and now the fake Instagram perfection standard makes it even harder. I never had a sibling to give me advice or tell me I look crazy so I’ve made great friends and spent time listening and learning. I now have many sisters (by marriage and my bff) but I wish I knew at 13 that just because someone didn’t like me meant something was wrong with me. As you get older, you stop caring what other people think. What they think doesn’t matter and are inconsequential to your success! 

Proud Pokemon Go Mom. If you play too, let me know so we can be friends!

Fail, ugly cry and then try that shit again until you succeed! OMG, this was a hard lesson for me to learn y’all. I am impatient and when I don’t immediately get my way, I turn into the biggest brat ever. I have gone through every type of disappointment, felt like life was over for me and through all the drama and heartache, always came through better than I started. It’s weird when you are going through something serious, it feels like being stuck in quicksand. I now know that the harder something is for me to achieve, the more it’s worth it. I also know that anything worth doing requires sacrifice and commitment. You may sacrifice sleep, spending money, eating desserts but will it be worth the sacrifice in the end? Ask yourself this when going into a new venture. I have learned in the past twenty two years that my internal stress and anxiety is a complete overreaction. I know deep down things will work out because it always seems impossible until it’s done. The word is literally I’M POSSIBLE!!

Have a lovely rest of the summer. I am still working on last summer’s travel posts, it’s taking forever because my laptop memory is full so for every photo I upload I have to throw away three. It’s moving slow but it’s possible.

Bisous

My mid-life check in Bonjour guys, I've had the most formidable (as the French say), chill summer. We hosted many special and dear friends and family that we ended up staying in Paris all summer.

[ghostofsound]

Rant that you should not read because I just have shit on my mind that I needed to write down, plus it’s over 3,000 words and somehow I wrote it in an hour when it takes me hours plural to write 1,000 word essays, but yeah it’s too long and not worth your time trust me

I just need a place to vent so please don’t read this cuz it’s basically stressed nonsense. I often find a correlation between my educational path, my romantic pursuits, and my journey to discover myself. These are all vital in the future of my life, with the whole life discovering shit being the primary objective. Who the fuck am I? Why am I here? What put me here? Why does, say, my trash can not have a soul coursing through it, yet I do? I did not do anything to earn this, nor have I done anything to prove I deserve it. I would argue I don’t but to judge my life off of 2 decades is equitable to judging a film by the first 20 minutes, which I have done so I guess I should stop doing both.

Our lives are consumption. I enjoy watching certain things, reading certain things, consuming certain things. Why do I enjoy these things? And why does my joy for certain things outcast me in specific settings? Why does it make me accepted in others? Why do I sometimes enjoy the outcast moniker, yet others it leads me to feeling unsatisfied and depressed? I don’t even know if depressed should be the word I use. 

I think the main thing I want from my job is to aid others. That is the type of person I am. However, I have so many selfish moments in my life as well. There are certain things I do that get tail-ended by me saying “well hey, it doesn’t affect me”. What a dick. That’s me. That’s the person who wants to aid others. I feel like I want to steer others in the right track, but I can’t fucking steer anyone, shit, as if I had that amount of influence. I can’t influence myself, let alone another human with separate ideas and destinations. But what job would fit me other than teaching? It’s really perfect, because it is high class enough that I can have mentally stimulating conversations and thoughts on, at the least, a weekly basis. It is also low class enough that I do not feel constantly stressed that I will not be accepted by peers who are older or smarter (which often correlate in some fields). In my current job, I work with 24/25 year old people (most graduate students), whereas I am a couple years below that, AND I’m an undergrad, so I constantly feel a need to prove I am at their level of knowledge or effort, but why? What does that do for me? I go home equal amounts tired and stressed; it is not a stress-relieving activity nor gratifying enough to exert that energy. Anyway, I hate chasing down acceptance, but I also would not want to work with idiots (been there, done that) and constantly feel superior. I resent the superiority. I reject the inferiority. I reject so much, and I have no idea how much until the opportunity to reject is gone.

Relationships are fucked. Plain and simple. I feel like I constantly try to understand them, and different ones teach me different things. For example, when I dated a girl I barely knew and instantly realized she was crazy and somehow by my own mercy she moved and got married in Texas at the age of 20, that taught me to get to know people before pursuing anything with them. True story. I’ve only had one major relationship, which I think was such a terrible thing for that relationship. I never cheated, but there were times in my head I had “What if?”, because I knew I liked the girl I was dating so much that I got scared of being tied down. We had our ups and downs, and of course as I look back it becomes harder to remember the downs, and the ups just blare in my mind as if my head is screaming at me that I fucked up. Family members tell me I will be with this girl again, but at first I found that ignorant, as if they are so in denial they just say it will revert to the norm. Reverting to the norm will be brought back up in the next paragraph. But my family had a unique outside perspective that I did not earn until the relationship ended, which was a mutual decision. We both go to separate schools, and keeping up grades, social groups, work, mental health, etc., it leaves no room for a solid relationship. That leads me to thinking about if my life had a different course, one where those years are replaced with different experiences, and then this relationship happened after I have gotten an answer to “What if?”. If I enter a relationship with all the answers, can I still gain? And is that gain, and the place where I gained, all a comfort zone for me? This all relates to my theories of God, or lack thereof. The belief in God seems ignorant to me, but so does believing I end up wanting to be back with an old flame, yet here I am somewhat admitting to that desire. Do this relationship strive in different time periods? Was my gap of time between relationships just an essential element to mending this old flame? Or am I so absolutely stressed, so absolutely defeated by life’s onslaught, that I retreat. As if this old relationship is a dome in which I can retreat. For all I know they want nothing to do with me, and I don’t blame them. I was disconnected. We were moving through the motions. I didn’t know what I wanted, and honestly I still don’t. I keep thinking I want kindness, physical satisfaction, and care (which I purposefully distinguish as separate from kindness, because I myself feel moments where care is lost but I always strive to be kind). However, is that really what I want? Our relationship felt like constant chaos, it made me feel anxious, it kept me on my toes. Hell, maybe I want the chaos. It seemed like a big portion of what did not work was how alike we were, to the point where it was actually an issue. There was an aspect where I needed to be the opposite, but I could not fulfill that. I know it appeared as a lack of trying, but it was not. It was simply a lack of skill to become what was desired. But looking back, and seeing who I am, I think I could make it work. I don’t know if you will find someone who is willing, and you probably think I am in the pile of those who aren’t, but I am in the pile that can, and now, shit, I may want to. It’s getting late, I am maximum stressed, I have made decisions that I cannot go back on. I have had three moments of rapid depression, where it all just hits and I begin to cry and say “why?” and “what the fuck?”, which I don’t get around to answering, mainly because I do not know the answer. And all this could be a reaction to knowing you have moved on and perhaps even had physical interaction with other people. That is fine, it is not my business, and I have too so it would be hypocritical. But it’s odd that that was the moment I realized the relationship had ended. The actual ending did not impact me as much other than one of those quick breakdowns, but realizing there may be no going back, that hit me the hardest. All weekend this has been in my mind, hence the longer rant on it, but what has been in my mind the most has been the ups of what we had, the moments you made me genuinely happy, the times I felt I could be myself around you, my real self, the one I hide almost always; that self came out around you. I feel a weight, and I don’t know what to do. I have someone I have been talking to but as it goes on I can see myself slipping into routine, a routine that was not developed when I met her, nor when I met you, but both relationships have their routine. Do I really hate the routine? I mean, right now I’m basically clamoring for the routine with you to return, why? And routine just leads to lack of fulfillment, which leads to a mutual breakup, hence ours. I am failing to see what I want, and this whole routine discussion blurs that line even further. I’ve thought about openly sharing my thoughts on what went wrong, or times I could have been better, but that fails to accomplish anything besides relief that it is off my chest, and when that is all I got left of that relationship, I want it on my chest. You were better at explaining what was going wrong, I was always quiet, and in most cases it was blindness, not silence. I was not quiet because I didn’t want to assert a grievance, I was because I did not even see the grievance existed. For what it is worth, and to just get it out there because nobody will read this rant fest that at this point has gone on for too long (reminds me of that Drake and Josh where he yells at the harp player to stop playing, but I digress), I want to write that absence has indeed made the heart grow fonder. I look at the film Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind: I mean just read that sentence. It’s equal to the notion that ignorance is bliss. I wish I had an empty mind, moreover I wish you did. What if we met up for the first time post-educational pursuits. We both are working in the jobs we set out to work in, and we both have had experiences with different people. The absence of purity does not drive me away. I have been searching for an answer and to think I may have overlooked it has caused this rant (along with other things). Last thing I have to say is that you and I were special, and I don’t even know if I should be in a relationship, that’s how messed up I am. 

I am. But why? Why am I? I have been questioning my existence for a long time. I had many nights when I was young where I cried myself to sleep trying to grasp the concept of forever, or trying to understand the afterlife, or searching for my purpose in life. This was at like, 10 years old, and I don’t say that in an attempt to sound impressive, I say that to display how frazzled my brain has always been. The materialistic knowledge like quotes from movies, or which team won three weeks ago, or how to correctly use grammar, they all feel so pointless to me when I enter the realm of discovering my existence. At the beginning of this year I told myself to decide on my stance on religion. I stood as an agnostic, but felt that was a cop out. I later sat down and truly thought about where my religious beliefs lie. In one case, there’s science. I love science because it is purely facts, but this is also why I hate science. I love English because everything is (I am really sorry for this pun) an open book, but that is also why I question my love for English. When deciding on arguments, I lean towards the facts, but the movies and books that interest me the most are the ones with numerous interpretations. I guess my love for interpretations lies with knowing how a certain aspect of one’s life coincides with the material they’re experiencing. I hate to bring this back to my breakup with my only real relationship, but after that I watched one film and read one poem, and they both changed my thought process on relationships momentarily. The film was Annie Hall, and the poem was I cannot live with You by Emily Dickinson. Annie Hall has a few quotes that scream into my ear as important and noteworthy, one being about how we make things perfect in art because they aren’t that way in reality. Another was a joke Allen told about two ladies sitting in a restaurant, one complaining about the quality of the food, the other complaining there wasn’t enough of it. Allen relates this back to life, noting that life is exactly that: shitty and over too quickly. His other two quotes are one that states they would never join a club that would accept them as a member, and a joke about a boy complaining that his brother has gone crazy and thinks he is a chicken, and when the doctor says turn him in, the boy responds that he would, but he needs the eggs. Allen relates both of these to relationships, saying why should he date anyone who would date his crazy ass, and relationships are a mess, but we deal with it because we “need the eggs”. That’s where I stand, I don’t think I should date because I often have these random cravings for solitude, but prolonged solitude concludes with loneliness and self-deprecation. If it wasn’t clear, I am currently in this prolonged state. The Dickinson poem goes into the eventual downfall of every relationship, and no matter how strong the relationship, if we include afterlife, no relationships will truly be together forever. Think about all the widows out there who cry over the loss of their “true love” only to marry again a year later. Dickinson seems to be striking this note. She notes that she is so aware of her life that adding another vessel to her conscious means knowing there is an eventual downfall, whether it is she is broken up with, she does the breaking up, her SO dies, or her own demise surfaces. No matter the ending, there is heartbreak. I once was talking to a girl (before I had my first real relationship), and for some reason with this girl I knew things would not pan out well. She liked me, and I had moderate feelings for her, and anyone else would pursue these feelings and test the metaphorical waters, but I opted out and went with brutal honesty. I no longer talk to this girl, of course. Anyway, I was talking about God. Ah yes, fact vs interpretation. See, I think there may be a force we cannot describe that in some ways controls how our lives pan out. I don’t think this is a Westworld situation where we are all predetermined androids, but I think there is a possibility that fate, karma, destiny, miracles, God, Jesus (yes, I know people say he was a real person, but fact of the matter is he is the result of a centuries-long telephone game. Sure, he could have existed, but was he really the son of God? Was he really this “almighty” force that died for our sins? What does that even mean? He died so I could say fuck and the apologize for it later?), I think all of these forces that appear mythical and wondrous, these forces we cannot even explain the origins of and instead just say “it was God” because we have a tendency to humanize everything that has the potential to be, I think these forces COULD all be one force. The ignorance and hubris of humans to believe God is an anthropomorphic invisible force is ridiculous, hence why I reject Christianity and the belief in God, but I am open to the belief in a force that has a say in our destinies. However, it rejects the facts. The facts are planets can be made from spacial activity, and life can and WAS created spontaneously through chemical reactions and evolution. Knowing how small of a piece I am in this puzzle is the only thing that gives me any morsel of confidence when I need it. Humans are barely even a scratch on the surface of Earth’s history, and my personal life is not even worthy of being called a nick, a tap, or even a breath. What I just said, and everything I have and will ever say, means so much to me and my life, but means absolutely nothing in the grand picture of life. I will not change the world. We are overpopulated with people, and I am simply another body in that crowd. Even celebrities and famous scientists or entrepreneurs are barely a mark on the history of life. There is no man other than Jesus who, in the grand timeline of life, would get specific recognition for their achievements, and like I said who even knows if Jesus did all that sin dying bullshit. The reason I bring up fate is because I feel like all my life has had a slight dictation, as if I silently beg for something to get thrown my way and then blam, there it is. I may just have luck, but fuck that, throw luck in with the rest of them. I want to name this force, and I won’t be a cheesy nerd and opt for “The Force”, especially because that’s just midichlorians, but I think a fitting name would be one we have already mustered: fate. I think fate fits perfectly because miracles, destiny, luck, karma, they are all acts of fate, they are all under the notion that what is intended to transpire will. God and Jesus are ways to humanize fate, but I reject that humanization because human are not important enough to be in control of everything, and I believe this force has been around forever and caused the birth of humans, so why would it be human if it was around before humans? It isn’t, that’s my point. My semi-belief in fate also points to my realization that often I tend to slightly stray from my comfort zones, only to find I am back in them later down the road. I see this with other people too, and I theorize that no matter how hard we try, many of our conquests will now pan out because they do not fit our comfort zones. This could be why I feel like I should go back to my old relationship, but also makes me realize these comfort zones are not a negative per se. We all strive to be comfortable, and yes challenges are good but there is a balance there that this past relationship seemed to meet the requirements of. I don’t know, I am so fucking lost and I understand I have the right to be at my age but that doesn’t dampen my fear. I am not old, I age in a month but hey, I’ll still be 1/4 of the age I assume I will meet my demise. there is still 75% of my life left to live (hopefully), so I am of course not suicidal, in fact it would be stupid for me to kill myself considering I am still trying to understand life; the solution to that problem would not be leaving life. I have met many people, some have made bigger marks on my life than others, and I don’t quite know whether I should accept things as journeys, or hold onto things like rewards, but I am sure that I will continue to try to figure this out, to figure life out. I know I need purpose, I know I need to figure out what all this is for (piiiinch me). I am beating myself up right now because I keep thinking of happier times. When I was younger, I used to cry after having an amazing day, because I feared I would never be that happy again, and because I realized I will never have that exact experience again and my love for it was so strong that not having that experience again made me cry. I cried a lot when I was younger, and I barely do now, but like I mentioned I have twice over this weekend, and a few times in the not too distant future. It could be stress, it could be fear, it could be loneliness, I have no idea. All I know is when I cry I feel like a coward because I often cry when I am avoiding expressing my true emotions. I see myself and my life as one giant chicken, but at the end of the day, I need the eggs.

[brilliantheartbeautifulmind]

on writing pt. 1 + a beginning

I mistakenly read six chapters from the third section of Stephen King’s book On Writing before realizing that I should, perhaps, check the assignment again. Back I flipped in the book and found the section marked Toolbox. In it, King describes the necessary components found in every writer’s toolbox.  The top shelf, easily accessible, is lined with vocabulary words and grammar knowledge.  The first is unique to the writer: the words we know and use are linked to our background and lifestyle and education.  What matters is not the syllable length or usage level but the comfort we have using the words we do.  If you commonly use large words when you talk, if you are comfortable with their meaning and syntax, then that’s how you should write.  Whether you put purposeful pen to paper every day or not, you still manipulate language through your speech.  Whether through elevating or lowering, altering your normal speech patterns when writing will result in unnatural, stilted narrative.  Grammar is more universal, in that we all use the same, basic rules.  Verbs and nouns combine to make subjects. Adverbs drive Stephen King up a wall. The passive tense should be avoided (yes, that was intentional).  Both grammar and vocabulary should be a tool that you can find blindfolded, in the dark, with one hand tied behind your back.  The handles are well-worn, fitting into the contours of your hand, and polished by constant use.  

The second level is only accessible after steady use of the first.  In this level are found the elements of style, both official and personal.  King talks about general ideas presented in The Elements of Style, but also dives into several specifics such as paragraph length.  Different authors have different paragraph lengths; some may have pages go by before a paragraph break, while others use short, choppy writing to emphasize their writing style.  He leaves the other tools in our individual toolboxes lying about, ready for us to pick up. I thought it would be interesting to list a couple discipline specific tools:

Interviewing -  This skill would mostly be used by journalists, as they often have to work directly with a source.  Interviewing requires treading a delicate line between setting your source at ease and asking hard-hitting questions precisely aimed at their most vulnerable spots. You also have to remember to ask all the right questions – no interviewing a Pulitzer Prize-winning author and forgetting to ask them about their writing schedule!

Disseminating scholarly work – As a writer who most often focuses on academic essays, I have learned that research is a toolbox skill in and of itself.  It’s easy to find short snippets of quotes to pull out of context and use to support your point.  Not quite so simple is understanding the point each author you are researching and accurately incorporating that into your paper.  

Dialogue only – Here, I’m thinking of dialogue specific to playwriting.  While some stage direction is needed and accepted, part of the beauty of drama is leaving certain details up to the director, not the playwright.  This means that you have to convey detail, movement, and setting only through your characters’ speech.

*****************************************************************************************************

The setting sun had finally emerged from the clouds as Emma wandered home, taking the longest way possible. She had stayed at school as late as the teachers would allow, leaving only when the janitor came to the library and kicked her out.  

“You’ve got to leave, Miss Jones,” he said.  “I’m headin home and I gotta lock up.”

She acknowledged his words, packed up her books, and headed toward the door.  

“What time do you get here tomorrow?” she asked.

“Round five, I spose.”

“I’ll see you then.”

That had been forty minutes ago.  She had made a deliberately wrong turn out of the schoolyard and spent at least fifteen minutes backtracking before starting her walk home all over again.  Today, she was challenging herself to walk back using only left turns.  Left on Maple, left on Elm, left again on Cherry.  Why are all the streets in this godforsaken town named after trees, she wondered.  After all, the only trees to be seen for miles around were the scrappy, sticky cedars that were the bane of her existence.  Each year she tried to clear the backyard of the little ones.  Her hands would blister and start to bleed from the rough wood of the shovel, but she managed to stay outside all day long. Every year they returned the next spring and every year there seemed to be even more of them, taunting her with their very existence.  

Emma was so lost in the thoughts of her long vendetta with the cedar trees that she barely noticed the sounds coming from the ditch beside the road.  She had long since left town and was walking along the edge of the gravel road, each treacherous step taking her closer to home.  The faint mewing noises caught a strand of her attention and pulled her to a stop.  She turned around and slowly approached the tattered cardboard box that was lying, half-open, in the ditch.  The noises coming from it sounded almost human, like a baby just waking up.  

“Just keep walking…you don’t want to know what’s in that box,” she murmured under her breath.  “Nothing good in there.”

Her curiosity won out and she carefully lifted one of the flaps to peek inside the box, poised to run at any sign of danger – or snakes.  She let out the breath that she didn’t realize she was holding when she saw the contents of the box.  Three puppies lay on a tiny scrap of faded fabric.  They couldn’t have been more than a few weeks old as they squirmed around each other with their eyes still shut.  

“Oh no! Poor little babies!” She sat down with a bump and tried to take them all in her arms at once.  They immediately started snuggling against her body, trying to absorb the measly amount of heat it was putting off.  “Poor, poor babies.  Left here all alone, no mama around or anyone to take care of you.  It’s ok now, I’ve got you.  Emma’s got you, poor babies.  I’ll be your mama now.”  

She went to put them back in the box but their pitiful cries once she set them down tore at her heart and she picked them up again.  Carrying the puppies in one arm and the box in the other, she set off for home again at a much faster pace.  If I make it home before sundown, she thought, I can hide them in the barn before Father knows I’m home.  Within five minutes she had reached the entrance to the farm yard and hidden her precious cargo in the barn.  She checked and double checked that the puppies were safely hidden in the straw before sighing, turning away, and trudging up to the house.  She rinsed off the dirt that caked her bare legs after the walk from school and shook out the dust from her thin dress.  The house was dirty enough already and since she was the one who had to clean it up, she tried to prevent messes before they could happen.  Realizing that there wasn’t anything else she could do to delay anymore, she grasped the door handle with one hand, placed the other on the door for leverage, and turned the knob as silently as she could.  It wasn’t enough.  

“EMMA.  Finally home, your royal fucking highness?”  The first syllables out of her father’s mouth still made Emma jump but she shook her shoulders back and tried to hide her fear.

“Yes, sir.  I had to stay late after school,” she replied, trying and failing to keep her voice from shaking.

“Oh I see they’ve figured out that you’re as dumb as your whore of a mother.”

“No, sir.  One of the teachers asked me to stay late and help her clean the blackboards.”

“Oh so they’re putting you to work cleaning.  That’s all you’re good for, heh heh.  If those dumb bitches at the school are tryna put my daughter to use, they better pay me.”

“Please don’t call the teachers that, sir.”  She braced herself for the angry response she expected would follow her slight disagreement, but the silence that followed chilled her to the bone.  Every nerve in her body felt like it was on fire and she was aware of every little sound that wasn’t being made.  After an eternity of silence, she let out a shaky breath and turned on her tiptoes to run to her bedroom.  

She walked straight into the waiting form of her father.  Somehow, he had avoided every creaky floorboard and snuck up behind her, waiting for the moment she would let down her guard.  He grabbed her by the throat and pushed her up against the wall.

“Don’t you ever talk to me like that ever again, you hear me?  Ever.”  He hissed the words a few inches from her face, so close Emma could smell the liquor on his breath and see the bits of dinner remaining in his teeth.  “I am in charge here and I take care of your scrawny ass.  You don’t talk back.  You don’t argue.  You do what I tell you.  That’s all. You don’t do anythin else.”

Between the firm grasp on her throat and the stench of her father’s breath, it was hard for Emma to breathe and her father’s face swum in her vision.  She frantically nodded her head, knowing that any other movement would be punished.  The first time he hit her, she had squirmed and tried to get away.  He made sure she didn’t sit down for a week after that. The only option was to do exactly what he said. Just as suddenly as he grabbed her, he released his hold on her throat.  She wanted to double over, gasping for air, but knew from experience that he would only add to her pain.  

“Clean up the kitchen. I’m goin out to the barn.  When I get back, this goddamn house better be clean and you better have your ugly ass in bed.”  Emma stayed pressed against the wall, eyes closed, as she listened to his footprints, audible this time, head toward the door.  The screen bounced against the door frame as he left the house and she finally slumped to the ground.  After so long, tears no longer came, but she waited for them anyway. She allowed herself a few moments of rest before pushing herself off the floor and beginning her task.  

She was halfway through cleaning the disaster zone of a kitchen when she remembered the puppies. It was too late to intervene at this point.  All she could do was hope they would be quiet.  As fast as she could, she finished cleaning the kitchen and hurried to bed.  At some point, the worrying and fear faded to an uneasy sleep.  She awoke in the pale, pre-dawn light and rolled to her side. In a precise line, next to her pillow, were three still, dead forms.  

[rooseelyy-blog]

From the first page . . .

      What’s the fun fact of being a human? What’s the only thing in this world that money can buy? Love? No . . . these days, I think one can buy love, but what can’t we buy in a world in need of a money? Okay, think about it.

Think . . . 

Think . . . 

Think . . . 

Still can’t figure it out?

     Okay, okay, I’ll tell you: People are free to dream, no one will ever ask you for money just to think of a dream you have, whether it’s short-term or long-term, a dream is a dream, subdued with goals, dreams are what humans are made of, the one freedom that can never be taken away from us. Whatever the possibilities maybe, or whatever the situation is, no one has ever spent a nickel just for a dream.

     A childhood maybe is the foundation of a dream, it may alter in the future, but as a child who’s wealthy with great imaginations like believing that toys are alive when we’re not looking and imagining ourselves as some sort of fantasy character using a stick to pretend that it’s a sword to simply fight with the air when in the eyes of daydreaming, there’s an enemy we’re facing. Okay, those dreams are bogus, let’s get into the real thing here. Remember when we’re in grade school, and the teacher would ask what we want to be when we grow up? Then someone from the class will raise his/her hand, and state some stereotyped careers like yearning to be a doctor, or a teacher, or a police, or an ASTRONAUT (LAUGH PLS T_T), whatever thing that pops out from a child’s mind that can be a role model to someone. But some of us has a foundation, an established monument of ourselves that still is running on a higher post up until this day, like me--and I’m writing this to inspire others who’ve yet to confirm a dream career for themselves or people who’re in the same page as me.

      Dreams . . . oh, how fun is to dream. Something that’ll make you float on the clouds imagining things like bearing success in life and a never ending playback of me swimming in a pool of money. Of course I’ve dreamt of that too, up until this day, who doesn’t want a pool of money? But what else? Being rich does not mean being happier than others, so there comes the love of your life. Yeah, I’m shouting today that it’s fun to be single, but obviously, I’ll need someone to be there for me, to protect me, to love me, and a woman who’ll build my world. We’ll bear children and live in this fancy mansion inside an expensive subdivision of nature. What else? There’s so many dreams of mien that I could identify right now, short-term and long-term it is, I can list a hundred in here, but I’ll be too tired and too senseless if I put it in that way, so let’s turn into the main event of the text.

      Dream career?

      Those 2 simple words one could ask you out of the blue.

      As far as I could remember, the first career I ever imagined myself seeing in the future is in computer engineering. I think I was about in pre-elementary schooling in kinder and heard that my father graduated chemical engineering, and all that mattered to me was to change the concept into the word “computer” because I was a child who learned to use a desktop computer at the age of 3, and I was breaking things.

     That dream suddenly vanished when I learned the beauty of food, when I appreciated the taste of the everyday need of one individual, and for that, I yearned to become a chef, and told it to my parents. I was in 2nd grade I believe when I learned to cook nothing. My parents meanwhile encouraged me that it was a pretty nice dream, but I never was like my older brother who dreamed of becoming a doctor from the start of his early mind, and now he’s starting to pursue it.

      I discovered Diary of a Wimpy Kid series when I was in 4th grade, and that’s when I found my liking in books, children series that are way too easy to read than a thousand-word novel, but you thought that I’m going to dream about writing! JINX! NOPE, I wanted to draw, sketch, and paint, cause you know, the novel has drawings. Again, my brother is a pretty good artist, I’m serious. I couldn’t believe the talent that guy has, he’s good in science, and his good at art? What the heck? Why did I never receive such gift when the person relatively close to me acquired it? But I tried, bought a few pad and pencils, and erasers, then started trying to sketch anime characters that I’m so addicted to, but then again, for not being a prodigal worker of a graphic art, and so did my maturing mind gave up, and somehow resorted to something like figuring out in the later part of my adolescence.

      Eventually, I continued collecting the series of Diary of a Wimpy Kid, but never got the hit of something that might occur to the future, and then on my 6th grade in elementary school, it was a rainy October afternoon, just any random thingies happening between kids who’re looking something interesting to do rather than playing toys that were starting to bore us, two of my close friends came to me with a plan of writing a book. WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? WAITWAITWAIT, you’re asking me to write a book with you? Why was I so surprised? Of course I was not overly melodramatic at those types, I kept my cool, but why was I so surprised? He said that we should write in English--since he was a transfer student from Saudi Arabia and he speaks English very fluently--but I was probably the worst English speaker in class, I always fail when it comes to spelling examinations, and I couldn’t compose any sentences with the right grammar, and now he’s asking me to write something in English, not just simple writing like an answer to a question or an essay, but it’s a book! A BOOK I SAY! I have no idea how to write one, and I’m pretty much sure on those times that it’s hard as hell to even try to write one. From all the traffic jams trying to stuck inside my head, I was amused, excited, and agreed upon the terms. The three of us will write one novel that composes of a story every kid needs: FANTASY. Yes, we want fighting, we want war, and we want blood, that’s what it is. I could still remember, Aftermath was the title of the plan, and we decided to use our pocket money to buy this brown notebook to write into. I have no idea what aftermath means, so I just went with the flow, not until the time that my friend who started the plan started getting selfish and wouldn’t let us two write our opinions in there, and all he did was to write up whatever flashes down his head. I never thought it was hard, but it was harder when someone starts a debut novel with co-writers. It’s hard to cooperate with one another’s plan, and 12-year-old beginners who haven’t done any research about writing would be something as messy as your closet.

      Months later, the two of them started to give up, we never touched that notebook again and never planned to try and grasp a story inside our heads, simply, we gave up, or THEY gave up, while I was there, lying on my bed trying to think of things from my maturing mind, nostalgic of things, like what was I doing with my toys when I was younger, creating a city of Legos and stamp a story behind every person, or a crossover story of toys of Snoopy, Patrick, Jollibee, and Minnie Mouse, I’ve actually created a story out of it, and mind you, I was so young when I played those toys. I’ve learned so many things of being a video game addict. My vocabulary improved because of the knowledge I gained from it. That one nostalgic day of a 12-year-old boy finally realized what might be his true intention, his passion, and his purpose in life, that is to become a writer.

      So I started, started all over again with the basics like buying tons of books from the money that was mugged out of my piggy bank, and my mother started complaining, and my older brother started laughing at me when I was trying to read his Michael Scott collection when he said that can never read a book without any pictures in it, but I showed them, I showed them what I’m really capable of when my mind’s suddenly became maturer because of an establishing dream. I read . . . 

and read . . . 

and read . . . 

and read . . . 

and read . . . 

until I couldn’t anymore.

      I’ve taught myself how to write novels of different genres by checking out the internet, any articles, anything that could help me, then I started when I was 14, I think it was on about late August and I was bored, and tried to stick with the founding dream of mine. I bought a Corona notebook out of the bookstore with a Maped pencil, and started trying, trying, trying. I got something out days later, it was entitled the Oblivion Well and I went overly assuming when I tried thinking of it as a kind of a Harry Potter book that would rise up to the word as a series, but mines a six series book of a fantasy novel that came from different references of books, anime, cartoons, movies, and etc, but they all came from pure mediation of mind. I still remember the name of Kairi Harrison, a woman that has sharpened eyes, long curly hair, fair skin, and slim that has an ability to cast lightning out of her fingertips, but the story never got an ending, never got a solid foundation, or a character profiling, or an outlining to guide me, I just wrote carelessly, until an unfortunate time came when I encountered a writer’s block and I couldn’t do anything anymore but to start all over again.

       I started with the learning progress again, I taught myself about outlining, character sketching, and everything that could improve in order to build something anew, and then I got it, when my brother got himself a new laptop, I secretly sneak in to use it and try to write on Microsoft Word. And I was underway, I was able to create an outline on my late 14-year-old view of life, and I wrote my possibly debut novel of We’re in Heaven (which title soon altered as White Flowers from Heaven). 

      I never realized that I was investing so much time on something that possible couldn’t give me something as an output, but it could also go the other way around. I never realized that it’s a passion, that writing for me is like eating and drinking, I need it everyday, it has become an everyday habit of mine that sometimes I ignore some school works just to create time for writing my novel. That’s the time I finally grabbed it, that the real me must deserve to be a novelist.

      White Flowers from Heaven is a story of Skyth Labrith’s quest to find friendship’s way into his vocabulary, but it went deeper into that when the love of his life appeared before his very eyes. I stayed working on the progress from 15 years old up until now that I’m almost 18. It’s almost three years when I planned the scene, and I successfully wrote 438 pages without the knowledge that I did so. It’s in its fifth draft-fourth revision, and I still need critiques to read and improvements to gain before officially presenting it to the public--and I still don’t have the money to publish a book, but eventually, time will come from all I’ve done.

     I may not have said everything that could be running in my mind from the start of dreaming, the process of my everyday life when it comes to writing never changed from the past 3 years. I’m a workaholic boy who’s willing to cancel all his plans just to give time for writing, that’s how I am today, but of course, I still prioritize going to school because it’s a way for the improvement I still need. I know I’m still way beyond the stages of J.K. Rowling or George R.R. Martin, I’m nowhere near them, but I still thing optimistically that time will come and I can be like them, a renowned author/novelist is what I want in life, and nobody, and I mean NOBODY is going to stop me.

      The first story the build my novelist foundation which is the The Oblivion Well is now going into the depths of a real fantasy story. The protagonist is now named Autumn Farleigh, and the information and characters within the story are now being polished.

These things are something I could never have done if it weren’t for other people’s motivation. They told me I couldn’t . . . that’s why I did.

“There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are.”

[fyrapartnersearch]

M// OC RP (Read my dumb gay post)

Hi! I’m Jonesy (or JJ) and I’m on break from uni so I have a lot of time on my hands to-- lel jk, I’m grown. Anyhoo. I’m in my late 20’s and am looking for M// literate (advanced) rp partners, ages 25+ please. I do not fade to black or avoid mature themes. My writing style has a casual feel to it, but I use proper grammar, spelling, and punctuation, and I prefer that you have a good grasp on this, as well. I write third person paragraph style, and am looking for someone who likes world building and writing three dimensional characters. You know what I mean. If our characters walk into a town, I want to know who else is there, how the buildings are painted, what the air smells like. Take me to it. Paint me a worrrrrrddd pictuuuuureeee. If your character has a Maserati, I want to know how he treats it, how he drives it, and if he has that kind of money, why on EARTH would a Maserati be his car of choice?

  Absolute No’s: ….Well crap, I can never think of these until someone asks.

  Things I don’t like so much:

-Winey characters

-Super young characters

-Unrealistically serious characters

-Too much drama

-Posts that don’t move the story along (sometimes this is ok but not EVERY post…)

-Short posts.

-Spanish dudes (HA just kidding I LOVE spanish dudes.)

  Things I like:

-Spanish dudes

-All dudes

-Size differences

-Humor (Didn’t see that coming, did you?)

-Realistic dialogue*

-Open communication

  Genres I like:

-Sci fi

-Urban

-Steampunk

-Apocalyptical

-Dystopian

-Adventure

-Space stuff (This is its own genre, don’t argue with me.)

-Mild horror

  So what I have is a bunch of ideas for weird couples, some with loose plots, others with none at all. I’m looking for someone to plot with. Even if none of these characters take your fancy, or the stories, but it looks like we think along the same lines and might get a whole new story with new characters together, contact me anyway. I only bite if you have dumb ideas. (Hard.)

  Characters/Plots:

  Made for one another:

Could fall under sci fi, apocalyptical, dystopian, adventure, hell it could fall under all of them. I have a really loose idea for this one. Two characters are genetically made for one another. Not romantically, but as in two parts that make up a whole. Both are genetically engineered to do something different, but both of their abilities need to be combined for whatever final outcome to happen. (The outcome being what they were created for.) Reasoning behind this was that maybe one person having both abilities, or the one ability that the both of them make up, would overload their system and kill them. Or significantly harm them in some way. Thus, two genetically engineered people were created.

The loose plot I had for this was that maybe one character has escaped the facility that created them. (Escaped a long time ago, perhaps.) This facility has some major unethical and downright inhumane practices (like lab growing people.) Character A. we’ll call him, decides to destroy the place, maybe from the inside out. (Perhaps he’s some kind of mercenary or rogue whatnot, living his life in secrecy so no one from said facility finds him, blah blah.) Ever see Alien Resurrection? With that scene where Ripley goes into the lab and finds all the failed experiments?.... No? Just me? Okay. Anyway, so while Character A. is torching the place, he finds Character B, who is the only experiment alive. He can’t just leave him there to die, so he takes him with him. That’s how they meet, but I don’t have much else for a plot for this story, other than that I see Character A as being kind of an asshole so they struggle a lot and much later they discover they’re literally made for one another.

  Mad Max:

This would be sort of based on the Mad Max world (as in the 2015 movie, even though I do so love the originals) though not using any of the characters, places, or… you know, anything. The world is a wasteland, but it’s not oil/gasoline that’s the hot commodity, it’s water. The wasteland is filled with different tribes, none of them very nice unless you belong to one of them. This pairing would be a character that’s kind of like Max, a lone wolf who belongs to no tribe and wanders, and…. I dunno, I guess he would be a POW? He’s a warrior from another tribe that was captured. Character A stops (cautiously) in one of the territories to trade for water and supplies. Character B is pretty roughed up and knows he’ll eventually end up dying if he doesn’t get away somehow, so his main objective is to get Character A to trade for him. Obviously, this eventually happens. Character A discovers that Character B has something that would be useful to him (maybe it’s just knowledge of mechanics and whatnot) so he ends up trading for him. Plot twist! They end up HATING one another. And maybe Character A finds out that Character B was lying all along and can’t really do the thing Character A traded him for, however now they’re stuck together, because they’re crossing the wasteland.

  Space Pirates (Totally not nerdy AT ALL.)

I have a space captain. He’s an alien. He has a super cool space ship and a super cool crew. His species is rarely seen in this part of the galaxy, usually they are a very secretive race living in deep, deep space, that remain secluded, however Janka has been exiled, and now creates a lot of havoc and headaches for anyone he encounters. I have a real old descrip of him from… jesus, like 2010 that I haven’t updated, but I’ll send it if he sounds interesting! Anyway, he’s a sarcastic, lazy sh*tface, kinda pretty gross without meaning to be, but he’s a real loveable character. Likes blowing things up. Kind of clumsy, which isn’t the best thing for someone who’s built like he is. He’s well known in space ports all over, so he sticks to the real shady ones, where he’s somewhat popular. This character comes with an entire crew, and bonus interesting genitalia. He really needs someone to take care of him (emotionally.) Very hard headed when it comes to relationships (“What? No, I didn’t get you anything for your birthday. You said not to get you anything.”) but when he falls for someone, he falls hard.

  Steampunk Whathaveyou:

Ashby Thornton Foster is a real strange creature. Not just because he’s very proper and likes to keep a position as the head butler in a household even though he probably has enough resources to never have to work ever. He’s tall, painfully handsome, with round antique glasses, and auburn hair. Sharp tongue, but can be a little daffy if you catch him off guard. He collects frightening tea pots, has been learning how to cook for 9 billion years but his chicken stew will probably send you to the can for the rest of the night, is excellent with mechanics and spends a lot of his free time tinkering, and has read almost every book ever written but can’t remember what happened in the last chapter of the one he’s currently working on. I should mention that this character is not human. He is a specific species of being that I created myself. I’ll go into it if you’re interested, but the basics are that he has handsomely jagged teeth, large amber eyes, and claw like nails that often lead him to be mistaken as a vampire, however when he shifts out of his human form, he looks more like a sphynx cat and a lady got together. That sounds awful, but he’s actually quite exquisite. (NOT a furry. He just looks a tad strange and has interesting legs.) Ashby is very sweet natured but runs a strict household. He is well respected and well loved. This character comes with an identical twin (Molocai, who prob won’t appear) and a Soul Eater character, who sets up camp in whatever town he settles in due to being promised his soul whenever he shuffles off his mortal coil. They’re best friends. (It’s a long story.)

  *Please note that all of my characters are usually in their late twenties or older with VERY few that are mid-twenties. I also do not play with younger characters, and prefer them to be around the same age category.

  *Let me explain about the realistic dialogue. Two OC’s walk into a bar. My OC walks up to the bartender and says “Ay, Sugartits, I’ll have the usual.” Your OC says “I will have a beer.” Unless your OC is either a.) An android or b.) Two 12 year olds in a big coat, or c.) Horribly constipated, he’d better say something an actual human being would say. “I’ll have a beer.” “Gimme a beer.” “Just whatever you got on tap.” “Uh… Beer’s fine.” Don’t make your character sound like they’re reading a bad script.

  If I haven’t scared you off, shoot me an email at Geisterkommandant@hotmail.com

My RP mediums are usually Skype, Email, and I can be persuaded into Discord.

  And just to clarify. Gay RP. Plot before Porn. Thank you.

[fyrapartnersearch]

A dangerous Game we play

(I didn't know what else to title this ad, I apologize)

Hello! The name is Ally and I’m a passionate role-player, student, and (unprofessional) hobby writer. Just to give you a quick little description of myself. 


Age: I am 27

Gender: female

Timezone: CET


 And I have had my fair share of experiences in roleplaying. I am more or less a veteran - but far from the perfect writing machine since English isn’t my first language. Usually, I post novella style ads, but I decided to compress the info and make it more short and sweet! :)   I’ve posted here a few times before and always met some intriguing individuals I’ve had the pleasure to start a partnership with. But since Covid-19 remains strong, I have a lot of free time at my disposal, as I assume most of us do. And my muse has been inspired quite a bit lately, due to having more free time to concoct some ideas. 
 What I am looking for is something original, a story that we can truly call our own. Of course, I drew some inspiration here and there, but the concept is something I haven’t done before. I am not a history buff, nor an expert on mythology, but I’ve done some research on symbolism, legends and ancient tales of gods and monsters. I am always happy to meet a fellow geek who finds similar interests in such matters. :)   I am a huge nerd, aka. a fan of both science fiction and urban fantasy, specifically horror and the supernatural. However what I am not looking for are, slice of life plots, nor do I particularly fancy heavily smut-centric narratives. A good balance of multiple elements is paramount, however, I’d like to strongly emphasize that this will be an adult RP. And it will be heavily focused on complex characters, character development, horror, psychology, carnal desires, violence, conspiracies, and intrigue The plot:

Absolute power doesn’t always corrupt. Power can cleanse. But it does not change a person, rather, power reveals… In the end, Gods and Monsters are one and the same.

Since the beginning of human history, the idea of godly beings, spirits, and monsters have both fascinated and terrified mankind for millennia. But what if some of these legends were actually true? Would that mean humankind had already encountered otherworldly beings? And if so, what kind of effect did it have on our species? This question has plagued many scholars, leading to specific groups to create cults, organizations, and brotherhoods that became infatuated with the idea of becoming gods themselves. An underground organization, derived from a fanatic esoteric cult, dedicated their cause to research on ancient artifacts, tombs, and ruins, with their goal to ultimately create a new superhuman species that will rule the world. They are publicly known under the guise CYPHER, a corporation that focuses on the scientific exploration of medicine and the improvement of human health. However, this only serves as an act to smokescreen their true nefarious purposes. As they finally come across a tangible discovery, they found it was still… somehow alive. And with it, their experiments began, tampering with forces beyond their control, resulting in a terrible catastrophe. Failed experiments were quickly swept under the rug… but couldn’t be kept for too long when hell broke loose. To counteract their ‘mistakes’, CYPHER founded a militant intelligence initiative to make sure all of these monstrosities were either neutralized or brought back to CYPHER’s headquarters. The program was immediately shut down… officially. However, a few split from CYPHER to continue their unethical, monstrous research on an unknown, privately owned island. As the years passed, they continued their ‘conquest’ by creating new experiments. Unwittingly, they awakened an ancient and mighty entity they could not hope to control. It quickly outwitted them, initially traveling across the sea to ‘affect’ innocent lifeforms, infecting and cultivating its influence to gain more ground, but it was not a virus, but a supernatural life-form that exceeded human comprehension and resource. And with it, a successful experiment subject managed to break free as well. 
 This is everything I got so far. I am open to discuss and willing to go into a lot more detail, explaining everything from A-Z, what the initial characters are, what this supernatural entity is, and so on and so forth. Themes that are definitely included are

Violence

Gore

Romance

Drama

Horror

Action

Adult topics (18+)

So if this is not up to your alley, feel free to skim past this ad. Concerning off-limit topics, I am pretty lenient when it comes to certain matters (It is a horror-action-gore based roleplay after all). The things I am not really a fan of are pedophilia, necrophilia, incest, bestiality graphic rape scenes, and toilet play. Other than that, we’re good to go. I roleplay both male and female characters and strongly prefer doubling when it comes to pairing. However, I can make exceptions and role-play in the regular format if I am compelled by good character chemistry. :)   As far as other things go, my partner should be literate and have a basic grasp on grammar. And we share 50-50 of the burden, meaning, we both do the brainstorming and allow both our characters an equal amount of attention. That includes length in word count. Typically I write in elaborate paragraph style format, but I tend to stay away from extremely long replies as they can get a bit too time-consuming Big pet peeves are text-talk replies one-liners! If you message me, we can discuss things in far greater detail, including the plot and how I write. I am really dying to try this out since I have ideas for multiple characters! The idea I’ve pitched goes far deeper than this excerpt, so don’t let it fool you just yet >:) If you seek to message me, please be sure to introduce yourself, how you write, what your preferences are, and so on (absolutely not necessary, but greatly appreciated would be a writing sample). I am a chatterbox, so I love chatting outside of the RP, getting to know my partner a bit more and exchange a few ideas while brainstorming.   We can take our chat to Discord, but I’d rather prefer to have the first message on email before we continue on.  If I managed to spark your curiosity, I’d be more than happy to hear from you :) If not, I hope you have a great day regardless!


My email: aylosreverie@gmail.com

I am looking forward to your message! And stay safe! Best regards -Aaliyah