#blog: moved rp

[reallyrandomtj]

Moved from HERE: @monenblogi

“Yes. From our perspective as residents of the Express you managed to breach the entrance and boarded without permission and the feedback caused from such actions not only could have severely injured everyone on board but also rendered the engine useless. We would’ve likely ended up stuck here until the end of our days if the shockwave couldn’t have been redirected.”  She at least appeared to be genuine in her explanation, and at the moment that seemed to be the only thing she had going for her. What a strange situation this was looking to end up being, not to mention that apparent portal... magic?  Was there another species out there that had the ability to cross the threshold of the Tree? Was this someone who jumped from leaf to leaf or a bit further like himself?   “Alright, Miss Meilu, for now your story will be believed. As for the rest, unfortunately you don’t get a choice as to where you may be left if we decide to forcefully evict you from the train.” He sat back in a nearby chair and folded his hands. “Some of the others may suggest we take you to a nearby detention center, but I don’t believe you deserve that. As for the other part to why you don’t get a choice: this train is traveling on a pre-chosen route through the stars, and we’re not even sure where we’ll end up next. So very realistically you have just as equal of a chance to end up somewhere with extreme weather as you are somewhere that is relatively nice.” 

"A detention center? I see... clearly I wish to avoid that and worlds with extreme weather... I don't know how you or this universe views dragons but when I'm exposed to extreme elements of heat or cold, my body attempts to send me into hibernation. That unavoidable deep sleep makes things incredibly difficult for me to protect the world or its people if my body is forced into hibernation. Wouldn't you agree with me on at least that much, Welt?"

Meilu practically handed Welt a way to subdue her if necessary, she called it an unfortunate weakness as the Adeptus has met plenty of individuals she would consider 'dating' or 'mating' with that wielded those extreme elements of fire and ice. Another sigh escaped her!

"I'm not trying to undermine your authority or how things are handled upon this Express... All I'm asking is to allow me to stay long enough only until the trains destination reaches a world with weather that does not rob me of the main reasons I chose to make that blind jump through the portal in the first place. To find a place to call home and eventually start a family of my own and in exchange for that opportunity I will defend the planet and its people with everything I have, including my life if it means my mate and children survive--" her eyes averted, unfortunately Meilu was unable to find that in her home world but she was determined to make it work here.

"This request is NOT at all one sided , should the residents of this train allow it, I will do my best to make up for my terrible first impression and follow the rules from now on-- once I am made fully aware of them all. Rules and agreements are important to me and I do not make them lightly, my predecessor was known as the God of Contracts in my home world." She stopped herself from continuing, already saying enough - actions speak louder than words. If Meilu had to protect those from the Express that step foot on a new world just to find a 'home' for herself than she wouldn't hesitate.

[timblrdrake]

do you guys ever get a headache so bad it just stops?

i headached so hard it timed out

i won. i beat it.

[thepyroprincess]

Intro Post

Greetings, I am the princess of the Sol Empire, but you may refer to me as Blaze the Cat.

I have been informed of my friends' presence here on tumblr and wished to participate as well. Sonic, Amy and Cream have shown me how to start up this blog.

Things to know:

Suggestive stuff.. is acceptable but also if you try anything with blaze you will be smited

I do not mind talking about darker topics but will try to deviate away from the topic for it seems to me what the character would do depending on the situation

There will be cursing, cannot say how much but if the roleplay escalates a lot, so will the amount of cursing

There might be personal headcanons and/or assumptions about this character made by the roleplayer but please understand I'm acting her character out the best I can

Anons and OCs are welcomed here

DUE TO RECONNING, SHIPPING IS OPEN AGAIN

Will add on to this if necessary

Other cool sonic rp blogs:

Sonics:

@ur-fav-blue-blur69

@ghostintheprism

@twink-sonic

Shadows:

@theultimateshadow

@twink-shadow

Silvers:

@silverthefutureboi

@voxfuturi

@twink-silver

@butch-silver

@absolution2206

Blazes:

@set-it-all-ablaze

Knuckles:

@echidnawarrior94

@unknowntome1994

Tails:

@two-of-tails

@doubletaileddoubletrouble

Amys:

@femmeamy

Rouges:

@driving-you-batty

Creams:

@dacreambun

@teatime-with-cream

Surges:

@the-green-mean

Espios:

@the-devoted-ninja

Tangle:

@tanglelemurus

Nine:

@9oftails

Multi:

@silver-heroes-rp

@the-sonic-crew

@aburningmemory

[deceit-and-knowledge]

ooc: *drops this*

Lyrics from cosmic rendezvous by deco 27/Hatsune Miku

[1-pupp3t33r]

Come Inside

"Welcome, you beautiful soul! My name is Circe, and welcome to Aeaea. Careful, you're soaking wet! Why don't you come into my Palace so we can go get you nice and warm?"

BLOG INFO

Meet Circe of Aeaea, daughter of Helios, and then Ocean nymph Perse.

Circe is a minor goddess of Sorcery, so be careful. You may fall under her spell~

If you're a woman, let it be known that she will much more easily trust you (though she may still be wary around you).

However, if you're a man... let's just say true colors shall be shown with a simple bite of her food.

#Come Inside 💕 - New Interraction

#Labour 💔 - Interraction with Enemies or Hermes

#Dancing in The Dark 💜🩷 - Circe and Calypso

#One wrong move🗡 - Circe and Odysseus

#A woman. - Circe and Eurylochus

#Barefoot on the Grass 🌌 - Romantic interraction

#What's that Puppet Boy? 🪀 - Toxic

#Vampire - Angst

MORE INFORMATION TO BE ADDED

FRIEND LIST

@isl4ndl0v3 - Calypso, she's... nice

@lowkeysleepdeprived - I'm adopting him and nobody can stop me, not even Nobody

@sunflower-azura - my Sister, apparently. The daughter of Helios

[gotham-bird-watcher]

Special shout out to Red Hood because rent is normally pretty affordable in this city, but my new place is exceptionally cheap for how nice it is and according to my super it’s because a lot of folks were put off by how you came onto the scene and don’t want to live in apartments along your patrol route, so I am now your #1 supporter. Keep doing what you’re doing, you can literally do no wrong in my eyes at this point.

[gunners-and-feathers]

RAAAARGHHHH jumpscares and kills you

How's that going for you?

[murderhousemanic]

Stop coming into my house. because I know what you did with the car.

Sorry, missed the part where I'm supposed to care. Not like you're gonna get to use it anyway.

Besides, killing yourself is really lame. That house owns you now, I'd listen to it more than you.

[circus-au]

( @chaoticcyprus continuation)

"Oh, yes! The new performer, Colle! He's been here about two weeks now.. He's a nervous lil thing, but quite sweet!" *His smile widens as he mentions Colle..*

[meet-the-net]

𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

Just half a year later. Mere four thousand three hundred hours. Squeezed between had been some off days, but generally, Ned had lived through six months of hell. An infinite seeming loop of killing and dying. Uncountable rebirths through technology. Each free moment spent trying to get a hold of his displaced parents. Each foiled plan of establishing contact fueling his belligerence. At least the village itself held enough memories to soothe him into reminiscing better days. Until the dreaded letter was delivered.

The unsigned paper informed Ned of a thing called "location rotation", that BLU's and RED's time on Selbyen was up. Furthermore, they reported that the buildings of Selbyen had been riddled with bullets beyond repair that its upkeep was no longer a viable strategy for the company. Two small passenger airplanes would arrive the following day to take the teams “back” to the USA. Petrified of forever leaving the only place he’d ever known, Ned’s flight instinct overpowered him once more – as it did when Team Fortress Industries had first arrived – and he crammed himself beneath the floorboards in his bedroom that usually held his secrets. That night, he was the secret. An ever so disorganized stampede of indifferent mercenaries boarded the planes, navigated by administratively decreed pilots. A head count only came to one of their minds, halfway across the Atlantic at that. Short of one head – and a bit ashamed of not having noticed earlier – the “bravest” member of BLU was determined by vote and pushed stepped forth to gingerly admit their mistake to their purple pilot. To not delay their arrival any further – transporting a bunch of assassins with twitching, trigger happy fingers and immense boredom was a hazardous job – administration decided to deploy their fallback. Ripped from his Manndatory vacation, The BLU Pilot was tasked to either capture and return The Net… or “terminate his contract”.

Caught staring at the horizon that’d swallowed the plane containing the teammates he’d become accustomed to, the roaring of a small private two-seater plane from behind him left him exposed as a deer in headlights. Hiding quickly turned out to be a futile endeavor with every meter the plane crept closer to the short rocky path serving as an impromptu runway. After short, exasperated exhortation – The Pilot really had better things to do than chauffeur this stubborn fisherman across the globe – Ned agreed that the agonies endured and the time spent getting moderately accustomed to everyone in that half year would’ve been for naught, if he were to cast away his life contract, and therefore his family’s steady income, due to such rashness. After whispering bitter farewells to the sand, the shells, the seagulls and smoking his last cigarette on Norwegian grounds, Ned and his entire life contained in solely the two suitcases they’d found in the cargo hold, entered the airplane. Eighteen hours were spent in the air – it took Ned about four of them to cast a first glance out of the window, viewing the sea from heights he’d never been at in his life – and six hours in different airports for refueling the plane, their stomachs and their minds. After countless amounts of cigarettes smoked inside the cockpit and conversations made unpreventable by the confined space, but eventually appreciated and sought out, the airplane wheels touched American ground. The Badlands await him.

[crescent-blades]

"Everyone's carrying something that matters. You just don't realize when you're carrying it. It's only after it slips out of your hand that you realize how heavy it was in the first place. So many times I thought that I'd never carry a load like that ever again. And yet, before I realized it, I was carrying it again. I'd feel so much better if I just got rid of it. But I just can't bring myself to do it."

Was all this power really worth it? 

Once again, this question would loom in his mind, a contemplation that had now become his constant companion. All this immense strength he had fought so hard to attain was once a singular desire of his heart—it was the only thing that truly mattered to him; it was the only thing that would truly bring him peace. To become the strongest samurai in the land—a dream he had envisioned ever since he was a child. It was a weight that he carried ever since he was young. 

—Everyone carries something that matters. 

With each passing day, he fought against his own limitations; with every sunrise, he pushed himself further, extending his limits. Fractured bones, damaged muscle fibre, and the splinters and abrasions on his delicate hands gradually transformed into an increased muscle mass and rough callouses that now marked him. The repetitive motion of swinging the shinai, day in and day out, became a ritual, all in pursuit of a glimpse of that elusive power.    

The days would soon pass by, dragging on slowly, taking away his youth and turning him into a man who would eventually get married. All the duties that would now be placed on his shoulders, as he had now finally attained what he had long desired. This power.. everything he had worked for—as he ascended to a position of authority, commanding even those seasoned warriors who had once been his superiors. All this power.. that had drawn the gaze of rival lords and samurai, each one eager to claim his head. All this power that the commoners had learnt to fear throughout the generations; instinctively parting ways and bowing before him. All this power— 

And he sacrificed it all for more.

Soon, all of his burdens, his obligations—all this weight slipped away through his fingers like fine sand carried off by a gust of wind. He had achieved everything he had ever yearned for. As his six eyes surveyed the fallen swordsmen at his feet, their bodies sprawled across the ground—lifeless; only one remained, clutching a black blade, standing before him in complete solitude. Another lay marked for death by his blade. He was truly untouchable. The relentless struggle for power had now come to an end. 

No one could rival his might; he stood alone at the summit, like a solitary wolf among a herd of sheep. In this ruthless game, he walked a path devoid of allies or equals, for anyone who dared to approach him would inevitably disappear. And he would remain untouchable for many years to come..

For countless years and centuries, he would seek the finest warriors, travelling far and wide to seek the strongest within the lands. However, engaging them in combat felt like crushing ants. Yet still, day after day, he relentlessly pursued them, pulling time along in his wake, biding his moments until they reached their zenith. He even took it upon himself to train some of these warriors, nurturing their skills only to ultimately take their lives, all in the pursuit of an ounce of thrill, a worthy challenge, and soon—  

He knew that he was carrying that weight all over again.

A weight he had placed upon himself—a burden he understood would lift if only he could let it go. Time and again, he found himself reflecting on this, disappinted yet again as he clutched the entangled hair of the beheaded swordsman in his palm—weak, just like the rest. Just another offering to present his lord as was customary, as he found himself pondering once more—

 Was all this power.. really worth it?   

[f1nns-archival-survival]

Sweetie honey darlin’ you have GOT to stop talking to and about your ex. It’s obvious you’re not over him. Go to therapy or somethin’ babes. (Maybe not in Gotham though… the therapists here are hit or miss)

My work insurance doesn’t cover that, but I’ll try someone in Jump City or Metropolis maybe.

[the-kipsabian]

[deceit-and-knowledge]

Sooooo (*looks over at Sage and Recluse*) how's my favorite yaoi doing ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

-Jamie-Of-Ithica

f: h-huh?...

t: ..mm.. *yawns and wakes up*

What's... going...on....did.. *notices where his hand is* ....

*takes hand away*

f: .........!?...

t: did I fall asleep.........?

f: y-ye-yes.. you did.

t: are you okay...?

f: I'm quite alright! I just feel...very warm haha....

t: ...warm.....? Hm.. I feel weirdly warm.. *sneezes* ....too..

f: oh no you're sick!..

Hmm.. I'll make you some nice warm soup when we all go back to the castle!

Um.. not sure what that word means but we're alright!

t: *yawns* ....sage.. *rubs eye* you're comfortable...

f: thanks??

[damianwayne-thebloodson]

The feeling of a cat settling down next to you >>>

[gilded-sunrays]

@fallesto

 He was a cursed man—

It was his fate. The gods had woven a tapestry of misfortune around him, a design he could neither alter nor flee from. Acceptance became his only refuge, for he knew that defying the will of the divine was a battle he could never win, and he never intended to either. It was futile fighting against fate, to struggle that the hands of gods, who would always guide you back to your destined ruin.. He understood this all too well, having encountered these same teachings repeatedly throughout his life.     

And he played into that role diligently too. From the moment his father revealed the nature of his curse at the age of two, he committed himself to his responsibilities, as he would ensure to minimise his presence—his steps light as a feather upon the ground, soft like an unexisting presence. Silence became his ally, and he understood that even the faintest sound could spell disaster for his father and their clan.

He would ensure that he would remain unseen. Whenever he ventured out, he blended into the surroundings, positioning himself behind the trees to quietly observe his older brother from afar, remaining unnoticed and unheard— like a mere specter. 

It was a life he had grown content with, however. Isolated in a small hut, built solely for his presence, he was often the last to be noticed, seldom remembered.

Although his days were comforting and predictable, the world outside his four walls continued to dance, and he had learnt to find joy in the simplest of things—the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the trees, the gentle whisper of leaves swaying in the breeze, and the distant melody of a bird's song would spark a flicker of happiness within him, even if he kept it hidden beneath a stoic facade. Life, in all its beauty, filled him with gratitude for the mere chance to be born. However, to express such sentiments openly would be to court danger, a risk he was not willing to take.     

—Yet, fate always had a way of twisting unexpectedly for him. Twisting and contorting into something else entirely. Each tranquil moment, filled with the promise of peace, would inevitably plunge into shadows far deeper than he could have ever imagined.  

Years slipped by like grains of sand as time mercilessly claimed his youth. What was once a mane of jet-black hair now lay like silver strandslike ash. His once strong and sturdy frame was now withered and aged. But most importantly—his vision had abandoned him.

His body was betraying him—vital organs faltered; the blood that once surged with vigor now trickled sluggishly in his veins. It was evident—that within mere moments, he would take his final breath. 

 To the outside world, one might indeed assume that he appeared to have transformed, that his life had changed completely—from a wretched, doomed child to a man who had risen to become a figure of admiration, from a quiet boy who spoke little to a man who had grown more talkative, from a man who once was a beacon of hope to many to a man cast away in the shadows, from a man who once had a family—-

..The truth was—nothing had changed. Years had passed, and everything he had built his life up to always led to the same conclusion—that he was destined to be alone; that nothing he did would ever truly matter.

The small, barren room of his childhood mirrored the one he now occupied, both spaces echoing with a haunting familiarity. Even with his impaired vision, he could still see the same world as he did long ago. There seemed to be no escape from this fate—a fate marred by constant battles and bloodshed. He was born to kill, yet his heart lay not in the art of the sword.  

The emptiness in his heart, a deep yearning to vanish, to embrace a life of "simplicity." All his desires.. everything still lingered within him—mere shadows of hollow dreams that he had set aside, fully aware that they were unattainable. Resisting fate was pointless. All these years had passed, yet nothing had changed.. Except.. for one thing—  

—HIS BROTHER  

The only person who ever understood him, he was the only person who genuinely cared. In the emptiness of his room, his brother was the only one who kept him from simply withering away; he was the anchor that kept him from fading into nothingness. Providing him some of his own food, making sure he was well fed, tending to his unkempt hair as he'd comb them, washing his face by the nearby well, and playing with him to keep him happy. He was the true gifted child—born with blessed eyes, as he was the only person who could see through him. 

But now.. before him stood a twisted reflection of the brother he once admired, a figure he had looked up to in his youth. The familiar features he once was used to were now marred by an unsettling pallor. Although he could not see him directly, he was able to discern all of this using his cursed eyes—the structure of his muscles and bones and the same blood that coursed through them were all too familiar to be mistaken.  

But what struck out the most was notibly those three pair of eyes—grotesque extensions of his visage, useless as he knew that in reality they served no true purpose in the world they inhabited. There was nothing truly beneficial in seeing the world as he did—the transparent world; and there was no reason to follow his footsteps either. It was a lesson he had learnt in the harshest of ways; this was not a gift but a burden, a curse—akin to a ticking time bomb tethered to your very lifeline, something that he had unknowingly spread to his own students, stealing their lives. Anyone he reached out to would inevitably fade away, leaving him with nothing but the weight of solitude.

There was nothing to be found in following his trail—only despair awaited those who dared to step in his shadow.  

With a heavy heart, he took a final stance. He exhaled slowly, a final apology lingering on his lips as he lunged toward his brother. The blade glinted under the moon's light, a swift arc that would sever the bonds of suffering that had tied them together for far too long, ushering his brother into the embrace of the afterlife as he prepared to draw his final breath. 

It was the peace he had longed for.. 

—But.. that last breath never came..   

「—what..? No.. This.. was impossible-」

No—he must have overlooked something.. He had neglected a crucial detail—an important lesson he had learnt and forgotten too many times to count had slipped through his fingers once more. He had strayed from his purpose, and fate had to intervene yet again, steering him back to the truth he had evaded—time and again, he had to be reminded that—  

—Nothing he did would ever truly matter.         

Unexpectedly, a sudden sensation of weightlessness enveloped him, a gentle touch of someone picking him up, tenderly cradling him for a moment. As he slowly opened his eyes, the old man gazed upward, only to find the same demon looming above him, its expression mirroring his own bewilderment. 

—Nothing had changed..

“You're not real... just a specter.”

—Like a mere specter..

“What..? Michikatsu—” 

 —Fate always had a way of twisting unexpectedly for him..    

..Each tranquil moment, filled with the promise of peace, would inevitably plunge into shadows far deeper than he could have ever imagined—  

HE WAS A CURSED MAN