#now i have to actually go out to find places to rp in but fitting in or integrating into groups of people makes me very anxious

[synthetic-sonata]

it is so fucking hard to rp when you have anxiety this shit sucks

[cuppajj]

[TF Mercy] No Longer Helpless

Kindred in their history, Fortress Maximus and Rung meet up to check in on each other's well being; but what was planned to be a simple conversation suddenly goes south, and the Autobot general suddenly finds himself in the midst of the hunter's abrupt and trauma-fueled panic attack.

[AN: So uhhh I ship Rung and Fortress Maximus in TF: Mercy >>;; it started out as a joke about them getting together because they went through some very similar stuff but then the joke turned out to have actual substance, one thing leads to another and here is my first fic for the game with them! It takes place after Reformed Predator, and hence has spoilers from the story. Just to be safe there are also spoilers for Space Adventure as well! If you haven't read Mercy's RP or SA Storylines then I encourage you to so you have better context of what's going on--but you can still enjoy it without nonetheless! Anyway without further ado!]

TF Mercy belongs to @emperor-kumquat​

-

    Fortress Maximus had arrived on time like he always did, knocking on Rung’s apartment door with a book in his servo. They had agreed to check in on each other, discussing their feelings, thoughts, and anything that had happened to them within the past two weeks. It had become an unofficial two-way therapy session, with a little amiable conversation about life thrown in, and the occasional book talk. As a librarian, Rung had given Maximus plenty of book recommendations, most revolving around the general’s flowering interest in nature and animals. Today, Maximus had finished his book on early cybertronian botanical practices, and was interested in returning it to Rung ahead of time. When Rung opened the door, the two greeted each other with friendly smiles, exchanging pleasantries as he let him in. A pair of energon glasses were already prepared for them, Maximus’s favorite blend, which carried a strong aroma. They sat on the coffee table, and the Autobot had helped himself to a sip as he managed to fit his massive frame on the couch.     He hadn’t said anything, but Maximus had noticed that Rung sounded gloomier, whenever they called each other. He insisted he was okay when he asked, blaming work or recent hunts for his troubles; but as much as Maximus wanted to leave it at that, he knew that Rung wouldn’t feel this way over work. He hoped to discuss it with him today, during their official unofficial session, when they were meant to divulge everything. He certainly hoped he wouldn’t come across as too nosy, especially if the reason was truly such a simple thing.     “Oh, I almost forgot our notes,” Rung had realized as he was about to take a seat next to the other. “I’ll be right back.”     “Take your time,” Maximus implored, setting his glass back down on the coffee table. Rung disappeared past the door to his habsuite, leaving both of them to their own thoughts.

    Thoughts that Maximus was unaware of, that had been in the back of Rung’s head for weeks. Every time he stepped into his room, he would pass Funeral, mounted on the wall. He hadn’t stopped to gaze at it lest he was pulling it off, but recently, he found himself staring at each intricate cut and scratch riddling its sleek gray metal, from the history of monster hunting that he would embark on. There were times when a sparkeater would round on him, claws and tendrils ready to scratch and stab relentlessly, and Gravemaker would use his gun to push them back, letting the weapon take the hits for him. He could fight back against the monsters he faced, capitulating not once even when all odds were stacked against him.     On any other day, Funeral’s battle scars would imbue within Rung a sense of pride.     Today was different. Today was when he interpreted those scars in a different way, when he saw something beyond all of the wear and tear. Yes, he could fight back now, but there was a time when he couldn’t.     Not when it mattered the most.     Not when he saw his old friend that day, or what was left of him.     As he neared his desk where his notes laid, he grit his dentae, attempting to shake the looming trepidation away. Now wasn’t the time to think about that. He was with Maximus, he had to stay calm for him! All of that could come later, when he had the right words to tell him. If he even wanted to, when he already had time and time before. Was it even worth it? No, no, but that was why they had sessions like these. Anything and everything could be said, no matter what it was or if it had been heard before. He knew, Max knew, so why was it so hard?     Then the thoughts, the memories, came back as fast as Rung had attempted to push them out. The helplessness that he once had, so long ago. He froze in place, inches away from his notes, head throbbing and optics agape. He pleaded for this to not happen to him, not now, not when the time was supposed to be lighthearted and sentimental; but he had pushed these emotions away for so long now, that his attempts to push even further were no longer possible. These memories, this new perspective of Funeral’s marks, were not new; he had harbored them for longer than Maximus had become aware of his sullen mood.     They were hungry, now; ready to tear at his mind and feast.     Like he’d been.

    Outside, Maximus had been playing with his digits, studying the simplistic living room around him as he patiently waited for Rung to return. He shifted a little in place, attempting to sit more comfortably on the couch, but he felt the legs scrape beneath him ever so slightly as his weight dragged them along with his frame. He pursed his lips and stopped immediately, resorting to pushing the coffee table a little further away from the couch so he could position himself closer to its edge. He was unaware of Rung’s condition in the other room until he suddenly heard the door slam open, and out with it scurried the smaller cybertronian. His quick and panicked breaths filled the room, telltale signs for the Autobot that something was terribly wrong.    “Rung!? Rung!” Maximus gasped, whipping his helm behind him. “What’s going on!?”    Confusion and shock grew exponentially as he watched Rung grip his chassis and helm, optics squeezing shut and blowing open at irregular paces. They gaped at nothing and everything all at once, seeming to lose sight of his own apartment, and Maximus along with it.

   Fog rolled into his mind, thick and humid like ghastly breath passing his face. Wherever he dared to turn to, he saw nothing but encroaching shadows and bitter isolation, with no one around to help--no one who cared enough, anyway. He swore he could hear Froid’s condemning voice just beyond the mist, but any desperate call fell short of his lips. He found that he couldn’t talk, or scream, or run, no matter how hard he tried. Not when the other voice told him to stop, to quiet, the familiar and horrendous form it belonged to stalking towards him, his giant servos outstretched and his glare piercing through the haze.

   “Rung!”

   Maximus planted one pede down as he stood half out of his seat, balling his fists as he watched--he didn’t want to think helplessly, no--he was only stunned. He’d seen Rung sad, he’d seen him cry too, when they had their moments; but he’d never seen him break down into a hyperventilating mess. The Autobot couldn’t figure out what to do, how to calm him down. He had to think, think of something!

   “H-h--”     Rung gripped his head, stumbling across the living room floor unevenly. In the midst of his hyperventilation, he accidentally bumped into the coffee table, causing the glasses to topple over and fall to the floor, shattering on impact.

    CRACK!

    Rung yelped at the noise, whirling around so violently that he lost his footing and crashed painfully onto the couch. The smell of freshly spilt energon nauseated him, mixing with the awful stench that doused him and the monstrosity in front of him. He could hear it now, feel it now, the snarling, the acidic drool dripping onto his orange plating, the hypnotic rays racking his processor over and over. Nothing stopped the ghoul from closing the space between them, malice and hunger in his eyes.    No! No!    “Rung!” Maximus cried. “Rung, please- you’re fine!”    Rung could only gasp and flinch helplessly as he felt the skeletal claws on him, the furious growling of the towering ghoul overhead growing louder and louder. Any desperate thought and attempt to flee was ripped from him, the power too great for him to resist. It was too much, the feeling of futility—all too familiar, dreadful all the same.    The ghoul’s optics bore into his own, drowning the front of his form in a sick purple light as the shadows behind him nipped and bit at his rattling frame, threatening to engulf him entirely. All Rung could see was his face, he could feel his breath on him, gnashed teeth parting for his long and dangerous tongue to flick out and drag along his tearful face…    He couldn’t be back.    He couldn’t be back!    He couldn’t—

   “Rung!“

   Instinctively, Maximus reached his massive servos out toward him in an attempt to still him, pacify him, but the sudden motion did nothing but cause the three-wheeler to sink backward, optics bulging wide as their pupils shrunk to mere pinpricks.    Suddenly, the ghoul was on him with an inescapable grip, teeth parting as far as they could as they lunged forward and-

   He gasped, “no-“

   Realizing what he’d done wrong a second too late, Maximus pulled back quickly, spark racing. He stood up and distanced himself from the other, hands raised in front of his chest. Red optics gaped woundedly down on Rung.    “I’m sorry,” Maximus uttered, shaken voice pleading for forgiveness. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”    Rung remained hunched, curled in on himself as his optics continued to struggle to read what was real in that moment. The ghoul’s hulking frame had slinked away so suddenly, peering at him through the thick fog that enshrouded him. The lone purple optic remained fixated on him, finials outstretched, ready to move at a second’s notice—then, another voice broke through into his ears, a stark contrast from the ugly noise grating at him.

   A voice, soft and deep, hurt…    Max?

   Rung blinked as the new voice began to lift the fog and shadows away, the hisses and breaths retreating with them. His optics struggled to register, the silhouette of the ghoul shifting and changing, before the light drowned it out. Optics once purple were now red, brown plating now blue. Gradually, the smaller bot returned to his senses, his quick and heavy breaths slowing down. However, the aftershock of the episode kept his frame trembling.    Maximus found his own breaths slowing down, recognizing that the distance had helped. With softened optics, he inhaled deeply before whispering, “I’m here.”

   Tears streaked down Rung’s cheeks, the gravity of the situation now aware to him. His horror turned to sorrow, and his grip on the armrest loosened.    “Max,” he whimpered, “I…”    Maximus took one step closer, and after gauging his response, slowly approached his side once more. His servos fell to his sides. Rung thankfully didn’t flinch or curl further into the corner of the couch, instead sitting back upright. With his optics on his pedes, he slouched and hid his servos between his legs. His lips quivered and his breath continued to tremble. Maximus finally sat back down next to him, eyeing him with deep concern. He extended a digit to him, which the other took and squeezed on.    “I didn’t mean to,” Rung moaned. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”    “Ssh, it’s alright. It’s alright,” uttered Maximus. “Let’s calm down. Let’s calm down, okay?”    Rung echoed his words, nodding quickly and wiping the tears from his optics, but still they continued to fall. He began to breathe slowly and audibly, as deep as he could, and kept the pressure on Maximus’s digit the whole time. He could gauge how badly he shook through his servo, and over time, it slowed in pace. Minutes would pass until the gray bot was finally still. When he was, he opened his optics once more, tears now dripping lightly down his cheeks. He stared at the thin air in front of him, riddled with the same thoughts nonetheless.    Maximus spoke first.    “It was them, wasn’t it?”    After a moment, Rung nodded.    “Yes.”

   He didn’t see Maximus’s gaze darken with the recollection of what he had heard from him of his oldest friends. Rung had trusted him enough to divulge everything that had happened, from their softest moments to the moments where he believed he would die. The betrayal hit too close to home for Maximus, even if the connotations were different; Rung’s sparkbreak was closer than his. Rung saw them as friends, potentially even more than that, for one or both of them. And for them to turn against him… Rung always discouraged his brasher ideas, but even so, they were still there.    But now wasn’t the time to dwell upon his pointed anger; he had something more important to concern himself with.    Maximus’s expression relaxed, and he angled his frame to face Rung, so he could better look at him. He found that Rung did the same, turning from the emptiness of the room to him, though he still didn’t look up. He let go of Maximus’s digit, which fell back to his side, and took a long, tired breath. The other frowned, squeezing his palm lightly before one of his servos rose.

   With servos so huge, capable of crushing the smaller cybertronian’s helm within their grasp, Maximus paid extra attention to the way he reached up to hold it with the utmost care. The sides of his fingers met Rung’s jaw as his thumb reached up to wipe the tears away from his cheek, Rung’s optics closing and frame relaxing at his touch. A shaky sigh left him, and before Maximus’s servo lowered, his own servo lifted to rest atop it, stopping it in place as it cupped the side of his helm.    “It’s been… so long,” uttered Rung, helm leaning into the other’s servo, “since all of that happened. I know it was a traumatic experience for me, but I feel as if I should be past it by now.”    His optics opened to gaze into Maximus’s, the red optics of one who knew what he meant more than most. When he vented to the general of his woes, all the rigidity he was notorious for would disappear, replaced with the understanding features only one who suffered similarly could have. This was no different. Even stronger, perhaps, as Rung had never broken down in front of him like this. Maximus understood him, he could see it in his face; yet he could also see the sorrow and concern behind it.    The giant shook his head.    “It changed your life,” he breathed. “He did. They did, after you trusted them and cared for them for so long. That kind of betrayal wouldn’t leave anyone easily.”    “It’s not just that it was… betrayal,” Rung winced, as if the word was difficult to fathom. “Max, I tried to run. I tried to do the right thing for everyone. And they dragged me back… he kept me there, and- Max, it was torture. I was trapped in there, struggling to survive all because- because-”    Maximus heard Rung’s voice tensing up once more, and he hushed him gently. “You don’t have to talk about it anymore. You’ve had enough for now.”    Rung’s silence agreed, the slow nods brushing up and down Maximus’s palm. His optics closed once more, and he squeezed down on his giant servo.    “To have someone you care about, who cares for you just as much…” Maximus thought with a low voice. “...I know. And I know you know that, Rung. And things like that won’t leave overnight, as I was saying… but the least we can do is find any and every way to speed the whole thing up, I think.”    Rung continued to nod. The general’s words, complimented by his deep and soft voice, helped put him at ease. In his current state, he could simply listen to him go on and on, until the reverberating tone lulled him to a calming sleep… but to admit it now, he wasn’t sure if it was ideal.    “You’re right,” he murmured. “I just hope it’s sooner than later.”    “It will be,” promised Maximus.

   The three wheeler’s lips pulled back into a small smile. To Maximus, it was all he needed to know that his words had reached his spark, clearing the last of the dread that had choked him to tears.    Rung couldn’t see the ghoul anymore. No more shadows gripped him, the hisses had been silenced, and the biting cold that racked his frame had been replaced with the warmth of his gratitude for Maximus’s company.    Gratitude, among things he was still struggling to wrap his helm around.    He truly did care about Maximus, and he knew that Maximus cared about him the same… yet that thought carried such caution, pressure, and history, that it made him hesitant to truly accept it even though he wanted to. Maybe--no, definitely--because of what had happened to him; and even though Maximus understood, a part of Rung nagged on and on that he couldn’t say everything he wanted to.    He hoped that would change someday    Maximus’s words echoed, it will.    He held them close to his spark.

   “Thank you,” Rung hummed, and the two finally lowered their servos. “I am truly sorry you had to see that. I suppose I’ve had some bottled up feelings over the past few days…”    “I’ll always help you out,” Maximus assured. “Please, tell me next time. Bottling things up isn’t good for you, you hear?”    Rung’s optics fell to the side, and he smiled. “Yes, you’d know that, wouldn’t you? Always exuding your emotions like so…”    He looked back up right as the telltale blush met Maximus’s cheeks, and just as fast, the other averted his gaze. “‘Exuding my emotions’ helps. For me at least,” he smiled sheepishly. “You should try it sometime.”    The two fell silent after their exchange of warm smiles. As Maximus sat next to Rung, the other began to observe the state of the room with renewed clarity. Noticing the two energon glasses spilling their contents across the floor, his smile wavered, a silent “oh” falling shamefully under his breath. He knew he didn’t mean to, but he’d prepared them for them to enjoy together as they talked about all of the-    “Rung, it’s okay,” Maximus said suddenly, reading his thoughts from his frown alone. “We can prepare more later.”    “But shouldn’t we do that before we talk?” Rung blinked back at him, bewildered. “I don’t mean to get up so suddenly, but I should clean that up and prepare us more- ah--”

   Strong servos enveloped his thin gray frame, pulling him delicately forward as he let out a soft gasp. Maximus adjusted himself and leaned backward on the couch, kicking one leg up onto the as the other slid over the edge to plant itself on the ground and balance his massive frame. Rung was hoisted up to sprawl atop Maximus’s chassis, and his awestruck expression, he didn’t resist at all. Heat quickly built up in his frame as the giant finally relaxed his servos, keeping them in a blanket across his torso. They eyed each other, and Rung could see the blush across Maximus’s face. He wasn’t used to doing this, picking him up and laying him against him. It was very… forward? Intimate? Words that made his blush deepen, but his gaze remained focused on Rung despite his swirling bashfulness. Part of him hoped Rung wouldn’t take it so intensely.    “We’re already talking,” he spoke, their closeness bringing his voice to a hum.    “Max…” Rung released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.    “The drinks aren’t as important,” replied the other.    Rung wanted to protest, insisting that complimentary drinks were courteous and deserving for both of them, but he was aware of how his entire frame relaxed in Maximus’s embrace. Maximus didn’t want him to get up, and something told Rung that his tiny frame didn’t want to either.

   Oh.

   His head flicked left, then right, searching for any spot to obscure the blush building up in his cheeks. He ultimately folded his arms in front of him and hid part of his face in them, covering all but his glimmering optics, and to his misfortune, the blue hue that surrounded them. His optics remained glued below him--which didn’t help as much as he wanted to, considering he was now staring into Maximus’s chassis. He emitted a short unintelligible mumble, shifting in place. Even though Maximus hadn’t said anything, Rung was predicting what words would come next: “This isn’t about them, it’s about you.” “You and I matter more than that.” “Let’s just have this moment between us.”    But Maximus didn’t feel the need to say any of those, as he read Rung’s body language. As the three-wheeler shyly tucked himself into his chest, he knew what he meant.    “You don’t have to see them ever again,” Maximus said instead, alluding to the subject of Rung’s distress. He squeezed down on him, as tightly as he could with his restrained strength for the other’s comfort. “You’re in a better place now. It’s what you deserve.”    Rung bit his lip, legs curling into himself. Those two were his… no, Maximus was right. He never doubted that. If his new perspective meant that his memories of the past would be interlaid with bitterness and pain, then so be it. It was the past. He could make new memories today and tomorrow.    And Maximus, he could help. They could make them together.    “Thank you,” Rung’s stiffness eased, helm rising from his arms to smile gratefully up at him. Hope glimmered in his optics, which Maximus noticed. He wouldn’t admit it then, but he loved to see that gleam of his, every time…    “Of course,” Maximus’s optics lidded. “And I’m here for you. You’re here for me, after all.”    We have each other, he almost said, but those words were too much for him and his already blue face.    Rung hummed, “yes…”

   Perhaps they didn’t need to talk through anything today anymore. The company of the other was enough, the consoling words and equally soft and sympathetic voices the cures for the dread that plagued them.    Rung uncurled his limbs, slowly splaying them into a more comfortable position to relax atop Maximus’s broad frame. He rested the side of his helm into his chassis, hearing the faint hum of his spark underneath his tough plating. It was funny, how it was usually him who’d lay against him to his surprise. Maximus was the one to surprise him this time, picking him up and holding him here… he’d be too shy for that. Though maybe he still was, if his facial expression said anything. He was too familiar with it, the cute flush on one so infamous for his scowls…    “Could we stay like this for a little longer?” Rung wished to ask, but he listened to Maximus’s slow and deep breaths, and noticed his optics were closed to allow himself to savor the moment.    He did the same.    It seemed like he didn’t have to ask, when the answer was already yes…    The drinks could wait.

[aces-and-kings]

LF RP Partner (in crime)

"Wow..."

In addition to my fc recruitment post here, I am also opening up to looking for an rp partner (in crime). It'll probably seem weird to anyone not seeking the same (and that's okay). No one is obligated to like my flavor of ice cream. Please note this isn't just looking for more rp partners to write with. I have a handful of awesome friends I'm already writing or planning writing with and won't be able to take on more casual rp until the fc plot is established. I am looking for someone who...

• might become my fc officer and co-captain.

• has interest in knowing / interacting (on some level) with my boys, platonic is fine, but I am leaning towards finding a ship for Thor at the very least, going forward. [No au, multi or poly interest, sorry!]

• enjoys mundane pve between rp. Leveling. Clearing quests etc.

• is active for rp/pve (at least) 3-5 days of the week.

• likes angst, fluff, combat, adventure, slice, piracy, far-eastern themes, western themes, bar, ship and such.

• doesn't mind discord rp for now but is eager for in-game rp once the ship is established and closer to 7.0.

Basically a friend, to hang out with me and my/your friends, but who'd like to take an rp place by the side of my char(s) and create these adventures with me.

For those strictly ship interested here are some tropes I have interest in: [no particular order and it'd vary depending on oc interest. Also, Nik is spoken for. Since I don't want a ton of ship partners, ideally I'm looking for someone interested in at least Thor. Seven, Alex and Grey would be bonus. Ravka I'm fine with being /if/ it ever happens]: Arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, noble and bodyguard, opposites attract, slow burn, co-workers who blame the job, fake dating turned real, not actually unrequited love, tol/smol, race differences, misunderstandings and mutual pining.

It can be hard to post and reply to posts like this cause we likely don't know each other well, our ocs don't etc. So please consider this a casual I'm interested in (lf post). I'm open to discussing the idea(s) if there's interest and if it isn't a good fit, no harm no foul.

Thank you for your time!

[wordgirlnextgen]

Next gen meets mbgau rp Steven was happily whistling to himself as he was carrying the laundry basket upstairs. He liked to enjoy doing the simple, mundane, tasks of everyday life. It was something he valued and felt as a reprieve to his chaotic and suffering past. As Steven passed the bedroom of his eldest child Chase, his ears caught the sound of verbal grunting and shouting. Steven paused, a confused and worried expression now plastered on his once serene face. He stopped whistling to try and hear what was going on. "Stupid...dumb...no way...Augh! Son of a..." was all that Steven could make out. The man clearly recognized his son's voice. Steven knocked on the door gently but also with some firmness. "Chase is everything okay?" Steven called out. There was silence and faint sounds of shuffling before the door opened. Steven looked up to see his 18 year old son Chase who now was even taller than his father due to his alien genetics. Steven took mental note how puberty also affected his son's physical appearance somewhat as Chase now exhibited some of...Alex's features. Steven internally shook his head. He did not want to go on that emotional tangent right now. By the look on his son's face, Chase was clearly frustrated and upset about something, though due to his inherited Boxleitner stubbornness, it didn't seem like he was ready to come clean about his issues yet. "Oh hey dad. Uh yeah everything is fine just working on something." Chase admitted to his father. "Oh what are you working on?" Steven genuinely asked. He wondered if it had to do anything with Chase leaving for college soon. Once again, Chase seemed hesitant to give a straight answer, opting to scratch the back of his head. After a few moments of silence Chase finally opened up. "Well actually I might need some advice for something. Since I'm 18 now, I decided to change my hero name since Amazo Lad won't fit anymore. Could you help me with that dad?" Chase hesitantly asked his father. Steven beamed. "Of course I can help you son. I'm sure we can find a new hero name for you." Steven replied. He set down the laundry basket and followed his son to his desk. Steven could see there were a lot of pieces of paper tossed about. Some were crumpled, some had a lot of pencil scratches on them. Steven could tell his son had put a lot of effort into this name change. "So do you have any ideas for what you want to be called yet?" Steven asked Chase.

"that's the tough part...I don't want to let go of the name fully." Chase admits. It's was painful to guess why. Infact Steven knew exactly why. He placed a hand on his son's shoulder giving him a comforting squeeze. Steven thought for a moment. "Well we can think of something similar to Amazo..." Not Amazo guy. But Amazo something... He thought.

Something that was still connected to the roots whilst being it own thing.

He held his chin as he pondered. Walking deeper into the room.

"will tell you what we can take this and try pairing it up with some qualities about yourself. " He picked up a few of his son's crumpled up failed attempts to take a look over at them.

[omniblades-and-stars]

📻 peas peas peas for korak and crash ily

Korak:

Darkness shatters Rhythms changing Breathe new life If we come together When life's broken It can be remade

So now it's time to admit that I actually do not have playlists built up for Korak or Crash yet. But regardless, I've been going through my library, picking through songs and this one, despite being a very gentle song, reached out and hit me in the face with Korak feelings.

I really should probably post the story I wrote for Korak since I talk about it all the time, but his story is about losing everything he knows and loves during the Reaper invasion. His story is about building a new life with his daughter. For those that don't know, Korak is an RP character, and we've been exploring him learning to stop hiding his grief away, unsealing it and relearning how to do more than simply survive to the next day.

I also think it's fitting in name. Korak is a quietly spiritual guy. He prays to his own gods when things are quiet, when he's alone. But he also tries to keep Aumellio's beliefs close to his heart. Aumellio being his turian husband (well, they weren't married but for all intents and purposes they might as well have been), who died on Menae, defending his home planet in it's time of need. Korak finds himself asking the turian Spirits, as he understands them, to keep and guide Aumellio's Spirit.

Korak didn't get a funeral. All he has left of Aumellio are his memories, a picture, and what amounts to a scrap of cloth with the insignia from Aumellio's military company. So he does cling to the idea of spirits as one of the few connections he can keep in the aftermath of losing everything.

Crash:

I'm not a fucking third class citizen You can try all you want but you'll never have a grip on me

Bully all you want I'm building a foundation I respect where I am But also where I came from I adapt my ways But never my integrity You think I am afraid But I keep growing my dignity Respect motherfucker

I know often times when I talk about Crash, it's about how she's kind of a jovial jackoff who loves making sus food, drinking and gossiping with her friends. I usually mention how she takes care of her community, helping to arrange mutual aid, and she has definitely turned to violence to solve some of her community's issues (gang bullshit, slavers, that sort of thing.)

The thing about Crash though is that she has VERY strong feelings about authority figures (Aria, gang bosses, etc.) pushing little guys around just because they don't have the power to fight back. Crash makes herself a very loud nuisance against injustice.

Back in her younger days, she had a hair trigger when people talked down to her, or otherwise tried to tell her how she should be living her life. She's in a place now where she largely just doesn't give a shit what anyone thinks about what she's doing. But she will stand up to people who think someone else is lesser for any host of bullshit reasons assholes hang onto to justify what they do.

Anyways, I love Crash and I'm glad you do to.

||Send me a 📻 and the name of one of my OCs and make me scramble to find a song to share that I identify with them!||

[paperzombiie]

How is Nohreh doing?

he's... surviving(?) this is gonna be a long post bc i've been wanting to talk about this so i apologise in advance fndjksnfjd

right now his story and the rp is on hiatus for numerous reasons but to summarize it:

-original rp discord group closed suddenly bc admins were antis, threw a hissy fit and didn't want anyone to have fun if it wasn't on their own extremely sanitized """moral""" terms (like, every time a character did anything wrong we had to clearly state we didn't support what they did... and other even worse things like that ugh)

-we (the users) made a new discord group to continue with the story as we pleased (hence the change from "azalea valley" to "rhododendron island". the tag is now called "rhodo island")

-we had a few rp events but eventually we all got busy with our jobs/uni so we had to make a pause

story wise, Nohreh has:

-found out Demian bit Coni on a full moon and went hiding from everyone

-went looking for him when he didn't reappear after a week and become closer after taking care of him

-had a period of "peace" until they uh... let's say they both fucked up and had sex again when they didn't even know what they wanted from each other. that put a strain on their friendship, Demian refused to talk to him but only bc he was so afraid and anxious (he doesn't hook up with the same person twice to avoid getting attached and this went against all his own internal set of rules), Nohreh thought he was mad at him, communication issues ensue

-they finally talked about it (or at least tried to) and both concluded they needed a bit of time away from each other to think but agreed to talk about it again after some time passed

-Nohreh took that opportunity to go to the sea and finally dare to search for his grandpa following a lead he obtained a while ago

-not only he did find him but he also found his grandma! they were both alive living in a mermaid city but grandpa couldn't go back to the surface due to a curse. his grandma was actually the mermaid witch who lifted the seal that suppressed his mer self from birth on this comic (she's the one saying "welcome back")

-spent some time with them catching up and learned a bit of his own family history, along with the reason they decided to stop living as mermaids and forget the rest of the family (said reason is still a WIP, sorry 💦 let's say it was just good ol' family drama with a mix of magic in it)

-came back to the island and reunited with his friends and Demian. they talked, agreed to take things slow and take care of each other

-had a halloween party organized by the villagers and almost had a date night with Demian. as the island is located in the southern hemisphere that means it was summer storms season... a particularly bad tropical storm quickly developed on halloween night and plunged the whole island into chaos. lighting caused the lighthouse to malfunction and the electricity of the whole place went down for a couple of weeks. a dense fog seemingly undisturbed by the storm engulfed the town and strange things started to happen, with voices being heard at night and weird silhouettes seen stalking the villagers in the fog

-Nohreh and his friends had to go through a few chilling adventures to restore the power to the lighthouse and the island, and finally succeded! the fog disappeared and everything went to normal... or at least as normal as one can be after a strong tropical storm

-in the process he discovered the lighthouse acts as a guardian for the island that keeps the paranormal fog at bay. it's inhabited by a lady who's some kind of brazilian fairy whose name escapes me at the moment, the thing is, she controls electricity and provides the whole island with power

-he's helping rebuild a few places and trying to return to his normal life... but things feel different. dead animals keep washing ashore on the beaches and Fay has told him he had a premonition about a new danger lurking in the island after the storm awoke it...

aaaaand that's all i have for now lol

i suspect this is not the kind of answer you were expecting, maybe something with a little drawing on it but i honestly been too caught up with what's happening with my country so i apologise for the lack of drawings ;__; still, it fills me with immense joy to know someone still wants to know about Nohreh so, thank you for asking!!

[general-kalani]

(CHARACTER NAME)’S RP PLOTTING CHEAT-SHEET

Want new-and-exciting plots for your character? Long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? Fear not! Fill out this form and give your RP partners both present and future all the of juicy jumping off points they need to help you get your characters acquainted. Be sure to tag the players whose characters YOU want more cues to interact with, and repost, don’t reblog! Feel free to add or remove sections as you see fit. Template here.

Mun name(s): Kalani, General, Killer (gamer name lmfao) Mun pronouns: Any I don't mind!! OOC Contact: Discord (ask if we're moots!) & tumblr ims

Who the heck are my muses anyway:

My muselist is a little all over the place! If the bio to each character doesn't cut it, ask me instead for how they are! Most are military, few are ex-military, one's a horse, there's a cult leader in amongst all of it. You name it, I probably have it.

Points of interest:

Some of them are kinda boring (in my opinion LMFAO) and most of the weird shit is from the Far Cry muses, the kinda cooler ones imho are the zombie-genre ones. Check them all out anyway I recommend it <3

What they’ve been up to recently:

The most important character arc for Voice right now, is acceptance at the fact that no matter what he does he can't change history when it comes to Joseph. What's done is done. The other most important character arc is for Joseph and that's just realising he's traumatised and seeking therapy that "actually works". Lots of others ofc on the blog but those two are the main ones lmfao-

Where to find them:

Most can be found in America! Some (Dead Island) can be found on Banoi. In SBY some can be found floating in space between Gamilas and Earth. Borderlands it's a wildcard on where they'll be you'd have to check bios on that lmfao. Expedition characters are on Darwin IV, but can also be dragged to other places! Far Cry 3 is on two islands, depending on North or South island, will decide on who you meet. Far Cry 4 is the same deal, only taking place in Kyrat! New Dawn is a post-Apocalyptic America. Far Cry 6 takes place in Yara. Protect the boy if you go there! Frontier is an 18th century historical drama for America/Canada. I only care about Cobbs/Grant though- RAGE is a post-apocalyptic world once again. Which world? Yes. Silver Brumby actually takes place in Australia but Brolga is a helluva fun muse to interact with!

Current plans:

Specific upcoming arcs are hard to think of when I keep changing my characters, how they act, etcetc, but there is one exploring how Joseph became the Voice, I'm just figuring out how to do it :3

Desired interactions:

Enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies, lovers to enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, enemies to-

Offered interactions:

All depends on the character one is interested in! Remember to look at the bios for each character. For example as a leader, there better be a good reason someone would want to meet Dessler and Joseph Seed. As an important person someone needs a good reason to meet a military figure like Gimleh, Ryder, Knoxx, etc. Just find the one that works for you!

Current open post/s:

My open starters, starter calls and plotting calls are here for your leisure to click on <3

Anything else?:

Rq, as I'm Australian (Queensland) don't expect me to be awake at your time I am an eepy gal that's typically awake at 10am-11am to 11pm-12am Other info you'll need though; interest tracker, muselist, rp rules, rp prompts and this rp guide I did a while ago (plus an RP plot idea prompt)

Tagging: Whoever wants to do this <3

[silent-lily]

- But... what would happen if you take off all your inhibitor rings? - Well, nothing good - that's for sure. I'll probably just burn out after a while and collapse. - Huh. Better leave this as a last resort for sure. It's not like there's gonna be such a dire situation you'll need to go all out, right?..

Another doodle thingie for our AU RP. We haven't actually gotten to this moment (yet), but the concept is all thought out.

It kinda spurred out from one question I've been thinking about for a while: how exactly did Gerald give Shadow a soul? How did he create one (if he even did)?

Details under the cut! (because I can't NOT ramble about it)

Yes, I know it's been said numerous times that Shadow has "a soul one like Maria's" and that they're basically literally soulmates. But how exactly did Gerald manage to give him one in the first place?

... After going through Frontiers's story it clicked.

Gerald probably knew at least something about Cyberspace and the Ancients' technology of transforming everything about a person into data.

After all, he conducted numerous researches at the time he's been working on Project Shadow.

So then, an idea for the AU was born.

---

While researching Chaos Emeralds and everything connected to them - now puzzled about how to create a truly living being - Gerald tried seeking answers in Mystic Ruins and nearby.

There, by accident, he found a strange mechanism. A tall tower with a platform, with a gear installed in a panel at the base. It was clearly weathered down by the sands of time and seemed defunct. But when Gerald touched the gear, that actually reawakened the machine mechanism - the tower started glowing blue, emanating a low hum. And then a tall figure appeared before the scientist...

Their name was Mantis. A being from an ancient civilization known to be long gone from this world. The last guardian of one of the passageways to distant islands where something terrifying and dangerous has been shut away a long, long time ago. They've been dead for centuries - and yet all their memories, feelings, emotions, their everything was still here, right in this peculiar piece of machinery.

Gerald had to know how this was possible.

Mantis could share the knowledge with him - but only on one condition: that the scientist would keep this just to himself and use it only and only for good. And then, they told Gerald what they knew about Cyberspace...

But one problem remained: how can you just create a soul? You had to have at least something for a base here. And not just any person's data would suffice - though, Gerald had a thought about copying some of it from his beloved granddaughter Maria (her kindness and compassion for sure). It would probably take time to find someone truly fitting.

... But what if not?

Risking it, Gerald proposed to Mantis that he'd take their soul to create a new life. A noble, dedicated warrior that used to protect their kind from any danger - that way they could continue on with their duty and also have a chance to see the world as it was nowadays.

Mantis was silent for a bit - then agreed. But added:

Only if you destroy these Gates. You'll have to fully extract all of me from the system - and after that, nobody will be here to guard them. And they can't just be left like that.

An easy thing to do - and not so at the same time. It always hurts a scientist to destroy something of a great significance. But alas, Gerald had to comply.

He did it after he took all of Mantis' data from the machine. And then returned to The ARK, already thinking about how his new creation was finally coming together as intended after all the brainstorming, searching and testing. Now only to hide some things from Black Doom and the government...

---

So yeah, tl;dr Shadow's soul is actually that of one of the Ancients (albeit modified, of course). Which (partially) is why he's that powerful in terms of chaos energy and using Chaos Emeralds.

Taking off all his inhibitor rings AND being in superform can cause a major overload for him, knocking him out - but not fully. If the will and the need to fight are strong, it will release Mantis from deep within, and they will take his place in the battle.

But that would be the end for Shadow - he'll just literally burn away, torn apart by the continuous massive chaos energy outburst.

Thankfully, no battles have required such dire measures in the past - and probably won't in the future. Right?.. (haha suuuuure)

Bonus: additional scribble of Mantis as they actually are, not influenced by Shadow's own looks! They're overall very chill with strong sense of duty. Wow, a Sonic OC that's not a mobian... Way to go, me.

[unrealization]

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ(ꜱ) ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ?

Well, this account was me desperately grasping for the feeling doing RP used to give me. It started with a desire to write certain characters from Dead By Daylight, but I figured I may as well add every character I've written in the past as well so I could finally have the space to keep them all at least somewhat alive. I could go into more specifics for specific muses, but we'd be here all day.

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ?

To be honest? No. Unless I get stuck writing the same type of plot over and over again I'm pretty much happy to do anything. I'm sure everyone gets the ick from something every now and then, but it tends to be something I stumble into. There are a few ships that I simply won't write if that will suffice as an answer.

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ?

Angst, I guess. I like putting characters in dark places so they can really show you who they are. I actually struggle with characters who are too well-adjusted and happy. My home is in the cracks in their psyche.

ʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ?

Oh of course. Every single character I've ever thought seriously about has a few. I don't think anyone doesn't, despite some people saying so. There are simply so many gaps in your average story to be filled that we feel compelled to fill them. Canon tells me how a character behaves in their element, and I NEED headcanons to take them out of that element.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ɪɴ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏʀ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ?

Music, for sure. I have a very large writing playlist that I've compiled over the years filled with music that inspires me without being too distracting. Sometimes I will actually pick music to fit the mood of what I'm writing to keep myself focused. It is basically the only antidote for losing myself in a thought black hole at times.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴘʟɪᴇꜱ ᴏʀ ᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ?

It depends. Generally I like to give myself a little outline if I can. Plan out certain beats that I need to hit in a reply. Other times the idea just hits like a wave and I just let it carry me out.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ꜱʜɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ?

Oh yeah, of course. Its funny because in the context of RP I've actually found myself enjoying really random ships I would have never considered otherwise but I had a great partner and we made it work somehow.

ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀʟɪᴀꜱ/ɴᴀᴍᴇ?

Irons! Yeah I'm not sure I even remember where it came from or when I started using it, but it is unique enough, and I'm attached to it. Several IRL friends even call me Irons. It is literally nothing like my real name, either.

ᴀɢᴇ?

30. Been writing since I was 9 if you want an idea of how much time its been for me.

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ?

August 15th!

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ(ꜱ)?

I tend to be drawn to reds. Go figure, right?

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ(ꜱ)?

Impossible to pick a favorite.

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

I think it was When Evil Lurks. Very interesting movie, but don't watch it if you're not down to see some fucked up shit.

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

Invincible.

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ?

No More What Ifs

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ?

I'm very into sushi. Please try to find a good sushi place near you, I promise you won't regret it.

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ?

Autumn. Big Haloween fan, and it means Summer is over.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ?

Honestly? No. I don't know what it is, but I feel like I barely talk to anybody here. Its not that I don't want to, I'm just never sure what the best way to engage is. I guess I'm inclined to say topaz (@ruiination/@ochazos) But that barely counts since we know each other outside of the site. Still I wouldn't be here at all if it wasn't for them always encouraging me so I'm comfortable naming them as such.

tagged: Stolen from @yukcri

Tagging: Anyone who wants to!

[fangirl-saya]

@codepend3nt There's a pretty long RP below, so to avoid taking over your feeds, hiding it under "read more." (Crossover between Renfield and Korean Odyssey ftw)

It's early 2000's. Ogong, the disgraced deity known as the Monkey King, has just been “accidentally” sprung free from his 500 year imprisonment in the Marble Mountains by his bestie, Ma-Wang, and now both of them have to pay. Ma-Wang’s determination to get in Heavens’ good graces and attain godhood are unwavering. He needs to help someone dear to him, and the only way he can do it is by becoming a god. To become a god, he needs to collect a number of good-deed points (GDP? lol), and he lost a bunch of them when he freed Ogong. Ma-Wang (mostly) plays by the rules, maintains a facade of a human existence (via a persona of an owner of a huge entertainment company in Korea). Thus, while filthy rich, he is somewhat limited in what he’s willing/able to do. Ogong’s main objective is to be able to drink alcohol again. This prohibition is one small way the Heavens are still able to punish him. After 500 years of being under house arrest he is restless and eager to enjoy the world. He has friends in high places and enemies in even higher places. He mostly doesn’t care. Still, he feels he owes Ma-Wang for orchestrating his escape, so he works on collecting GDP by taking Heavens’ assignments to dispatch various baddies. For the most part, he’s been getting assignments around Seoul, but on this particular occasion, the assignment will take him to Seattle, WA, USA. To his surprised protests (“Why the hell are you sending somewhere so cold and dreary? Why do I have to be so far from my beloved car, Ma-Wang’s big TV and my cozy hot tub?”) the heavenly official only shrugs, and says the order came all the way from the Top. And so Ogong has to pack. To his relief, his car actually fits into his suitcase, though registering it at the destination may be a nuisance. There’s also not a ton of space left, and he eyes his collection of fur coats critically. It’s always raining in Seattle. Will he even be able to wear them, or will they get drenched the moment he walks into the streets? He stuffs a couple of his favorites into the car’s trunk and sets off to the airport. A private jet is already waiting for him, along with a brand new identity and a healthy bank account. Finding Dracula in a city of 700k+ residents is no easy task. Cut off from his regular channels, he bribes some humans and threatens some spirits to find out that an unusual number of homeless people have been going missing in the recent weeks - information that hasn’t made it to the press. Human souls are human souls, homeless or Fortune 500 founders. And so, while he’d much rather be somewhere warm and cozy, he is stalking foggy, cluttered alleys on the periphery of downtown Seattle, where the impromptu homeless encampments tend to spring up seemingly overnight. It’s been two weeks with little progress. Interviewing the not-always-coherent local residents revealed that the disappearances happen all over the city, that besides being homeless, the victims seem to have little in common - age, gender, health, origins, race, personality - all over the place. A couple of particularly inebriated fellas told him of a lanky guy with “glowing yellow eyes, dude!” that they’ve seen around their encampment a few times before one of their drinking buddies disappeared. “Do you think you’ll be able to bring Sean back?” “Unlikely,” Ogong answers bluntly. “Y’all make sure you stick together. Safety in numbers and all that.” Finally, on a Wednesday night, wet and dreary like any other, Ogong spots someone observing a small encampment from the shadows. “That’s definitely lanky,” he thinks to himself. And in the next moment he’s standing behind Renfield, a hand on his shoulder. “Hey there buddy. What brings you out here on such a fine night?” If Renfield were to turn around, he’d see a Korean young man, 5-11, almost comically overdressed for the relatively warm weather, with an oversized scarf and a heavy wool coat (let’s say it’s summer, and it’s around 65F?).

Renfield couldn't help but jump when he felt the hand clamp down on his shoulder, bright blue eyes going wide at the sound of the voice. "I...um..." he blinked a few times, slowly turning to face the man. Despite having a few inches on the guy, Renfield still seemed to cower under his gaze. Was he a cop? He was dressed kinda funny for a cop, even an undercover one. But still....Dracula would not like this one bit.

From inside his pocket, he let go of the handkerchief and the bottle of chloroform he'd been about to pull out. Then slid his hands out of his jacket so they were visible, just in case.

"I lost my cat. He got out of my apartment, and I was looking for him." He turned his head, looking back down the alleyway before calling out, "Fluffy! Fluffy, where are you?" A blatant lie, but one he was determined to stick with. He'd find someone for Dracula to eat somewhere else.

“A cat, huh?” Ogong gives his customary sardonic half-grin. “That simply wouldn’t do. Shall I help you look?” The words are dripping with mock concern and sarcasm. Ogong’s hand remains on Renfield’s shoulder, and while he isn’t squeezing it, exactly, Renfield can feel that the grip is pretty firm, and he’s unlikely to be able to twist away with human strength alone.

[axe-trio-commanders]

I'm curious about Olirus! What's their Deal(tm)? (Also I would like to hug Zori. Not because of any particular reason but because I think she needs one)

- @fractal-quadrilioquy

Yesyes Olirus!! (sorry this took a lil, needed to get screenshots and also. Awakeness) So- Olirus Quickshot is one of my newer cats, and sort of like... I dunno, my most lowkey, normal-ish character...? Which is. Completely relative considering the nonsense everyone else gets up to, but here's the gist;

Olirus was, originally, just a pretty darned good sniper, originally working under Iron before joining the Vigil, primarily because she thought Almorra was just really, really cool the first time she heard about her, and Olirus really wanted to go all-in and fight dragons. She was pretty renowned for taking shots with pretty good accuracy for how many shots she could take, and how quickly- she's not an assassin, really, but she's good at taking out a large number of pretty long-range targets. So she joins the vigil, climbs a few rungs up the ladder, everything's going great! They actually defeated Zhaitan! Woo!! ....And then Maguuma happens, and- pending probably another post and a heavy TW- Olirus is suddenly Much Less Jazzed about the Vigil. Not that she things the Vigil is wrong, just... wrong for her. And her continued mental health. So, after taking the airship to Elona, Olirus just kinda... bounces, trying to just. Disappear in the chaos. She eventually finds a job as a guard for this exotic raptor racing facility, which is... well, it pays money, even if she doesn't like her boss very much. ....Until a group raids the place, she gets shot in the arm with a necromantic-energy-packed ammunition that is now attempting to slowly rot away her arm, and instead of, say, doing anything to help with that, her boss just fires her instead. So now she's slowly losing an arm, and doesn't have a job. So she does what any reasonable charr would do, which is steal her favorite raptor (Her name is Cherry) and book it again. (This is Cherry)

Eventually, she recieves help with the arm from... (admittedly I have this part less decided, so some necromancer/scientist someone who decides to be nice without immediate payment)- which stops the decay even if it won't heal the arm. It's still functional, though it is pretty smelly and she's worried it'll be more fragile than normal, so she's made a special glove to fit around it. At this point, she decides she's honestly done with any job involving having to use violence, and you know what she figures is the furthest possible thing from her prior occupation in the Vigil? Candy-making. She's going to make a candy store. And run it. And use the proceeds to take care of Cherry. And anyone who threatens her candy store, or the children who come to buy from it? ...Well, she does still have a rifle, and she isn't half bad with a pair of daggers, either. They just have fun themes, now.

(.....this character was at least partially inspired by the fact i thought you could flavor the azure railgun skin as mint-chocolate themed. Also I wanted a character I could just kinda fit into any au or rp space...)

[spacemanxephos]

“Fireworks” [Xephna]

Title: “Fireworks”

Pairing: Xephos and Lalna [Xephna]

Rating: General

Genre: Fluff and a tiny bit of hurt/comfort

Words: 1,292

Warnings: A tiny bit of sensory overload and vague PTSD mentions. Alcohol mentions as well.

A/N: This is what happens when you take out your sensory issues on your favorite characters. I wrote this in like an hour and didn’t beta read so don’t judge too hard. *Please don’t reblog to kin/rp/introject blogs!* This takes place pre-relationship during Jaffa Factory :]

Xephos hated these Sips Co. parties, he had decided.

It was New Years Eve, apparently a day meant to celebrate the ringing in of the new year.

And to do that effectively they had to go and get drunk and socialize at a Sips Co. holiday party.

Apparently.

“Didn’t we just go to one of these?” Xephos had griped as they walked towards the building. He had his shoulders hunched up to his ears as the biting cold seeped through his coat. A few flakes of snow were falling and settled in his and his friend’s hair.

Honeydew grinned at him. “That was Wintertide, this is New Years! Whole different deal,” he explained joyfully. Xephos did not share in that joy.

Both his companions had abandoned him rather quickly to go visit with their friends and get drinks after they arrived. Xephos had lingered by the walls, waving to Sips and Sjin when he saw them. Sjin had chatted with him for a few moments before disappearing into the crowd of what he could only assume were Sips Co. conglomerate associates.

He’d shuffled off to Sjin’s office when he saw Honeydew challenge Sips to a drink-off.

The fireworks had started not soon after he’d tucked himself away in the small office. It was decorated sparsely, except for a wooden desk and chair labelled in stark dark letters ‘MAHOGANY.’ He settled himself against the far wall and let his thoughts drift. The moment the fireworks had started he tucked his legs up into his chest and clamped his hands over his ears.

He’d had a complete fit the first party they’d gone to when the fireworks had begun. A panic had sprung in his chest as he tried to convince his friends they needed to evacuate or escape, because clearly they were under attack. Honeydew and Lalna had patiently explained to him the actual reason behind the explosions, which had left him utterly embarrassed. Now the panic still rested tightly under his skin, but at least he was able to save face and hide from the abhorrently loud noises in the privacy of Sjin’s office.

He sat there in his tight balled up position for a while, he wasn’t sure how long. He jolted at a knock on the door. It opened, and while he had expected Sjin, to his delight, or perhaps to his distaste, Lalna poked his head through the doorway instead.

The blonde seemed to have sobered up considerably in the time since he’d last seen him, which allowed Xephos to relax slightly. At least he wouldn’t be dragging home two completely drunken men now.

“Hey Xeph,’” Lalna greeted him happily. His cheeks were a bit flushed. Xephos wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or simply being stuck in a stuffy room full of fifty people downstairs.

He managed a smile at him. “Hello, friend.” He said. That was an easy phrase, it rolled off his tongue smoothly without him having to think about it. Lalna grinned back at him.

“Sjin told me I might find you here,” Lalna replied with his typical easygoing lilt.

Ah, Sjin. He had been the one to show Xephos his hiding spot the last time they’d had a party, it would make sense he’d tell their friends where he was if they asked. He couldn’t help but be a tad frustrated at the man, however. He didn’t want his friends to see him like this, hiding from parties and noise like a frightened dog. He didn’t want them to think he was… well, weak.

Lalna walked over and sat down next to him on his spot on the floor. His blue-green eyes were lively and reflected underneath the florescent lights.

“How long have you been up here?” Lalna asked.

Xephos raised an eyebrow. “I left when Honeydew started that drinking contest with Sips, so however long ago that was,” he said, a hint of disdain seeping into his voice. “Are they still going, by the way?”

Lalna grinned lopsidedly. “Oh, you know it. We’ll probably be dragging home a dead dwarf at the rate they’re going,” he snickered.

Xephos groaned and Lalna laughed a bit more at his expression.

They sat quietly for a moment before Lalna gestured to the door. “C’mon, I think I saw Lomadia down there, I’m sure she’d love to talk to you-“

Xephos visibly flinched at a sudden boom above them. He cursed himself for letting himself relax enough to be surprised by the noise again.

“Oh, the fireworks?” Lalna realized at his reaction.

Xephos screwed up his face with frustration. “It’s such a stupid activity- what a waste of resources! We could be mining with that dynamite, instead someone’s decided to make bombs and shoot them into the sky for no good reason.”

“I mean, they are pretty,” Lalna offered thoughtfully. “Colorful. Bright.”

Xephos scowled and hunched further into himself. “Loud,” he added scathingly.

Lalna snorted at his tone, but softened a bit when he saw the distress plain on the other’s face. Xephos instinctually stiffened as Lalna wrapped an arm around him.

“You know they can’t hurt you,” Lalna offered gently.

“They can hurt my ears,” Xephos snapped back. Lalna’s eyes flickered to Xephos’ ears which were flattened tightly against his head.

“Oh. I guess I didn’t really think about that.”Lalna mumbled. “Probably a lot louder to you, huh?” He said lightheartedly, his joking tone wavering slightly.

Xephos huffed. He was mad, mad enough he could feel it in his skin. Not at Lalna, necessarily, but at the situation he was currently in. It felt like everything was enough to make him feel irritated right now, simply for existing. He looked at Lalna, the human clearly feeling slightly sorry now. A twinge of guilt settled in his stomach. Xephos sighed and slumped his shoulders. He rubbed at his face tiredly.

“I’m sorry, friend. I’m not mad at you. I just don’t like them. It’s just almost like they remind me…”

He trailed off. The memories and words were at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t reach them. It felt like for a moment he had almost had it but then it fluttered away again, leaving him only with an unshakable feeling of discomfort. Lalna looked at him curiously, imploring him to continue, but Xephos didn’t have an explanation for him.

Xephos waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t know. Never mind.”

Lalna looked like he wanted to ask him more, biting his lip. Suddenly, what sounded like dozens of fireworks began going off at once, and they didn’t stop. Xephos flinched again and instinctively hunched his shoulders into his ears. His face contorted with pain and discomfort. He almost jumped when he felt a pair of hands cover his ears.

Lalna’s hands were larger than his, very warm and slightly sweaty. They closed over his ears and muffled the noise. He could feel the man’s breath ever so slightly move his hair.

After several minutes, Lalna unclasped his hands.

“Finale’s over. Might have a few more over the course of the night, but that’s probably it,” he said. Xephos nodded, forcing his shoulders to relax.

Xephos shifted slightly, feeling an unexpected heat bloom in his face. “Erm, thank you,” he finally managed, not exactly sure what the right response was.

Lalna’s face was flushed as well. Xephos wondered if it was still that way from earlier. The human cleared his throat. “Y-yeah. Um, well, I’m sure we can head out now. Probably want to before Honeydew gets anymore mead in his system.”

Xephos tilted his head back and groaned again. He’d almost forgotten. Lalna was giggling at his expression again. Everything was back to normal.

He nodded and stood up. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

[maliro-t]

nat 20, crit fail, prep and tpk!

nat 20: What's the most memorable RP scene you've been a part of?

I know this is technically a question for me as a player but as a DM, there was an exchange with one of my players (in blue) as this little kid NPC (in red) after they'd saved him from a pretty horrible massacre that just went:

"Have you seen people die?"

"Yeah."

"Did you like them too?"

"Yeah. But there's nothing I could do for them. And they're happier where they are now."

"I wish you could be happy too."

"Yeah."

Which just got me real in my feelings about Mr. Mumford and made me real proud of his player :)

crit fail: Have you ever had a character death? What happened?

I personally have not! I think that's in part because the longest campaigns I've been in as a player were only over about 7 or eight months, so I haven't had a ton of opportunity to be thrust into mortal peril. Although I guess you never know lol, especially at lower levels.

prep: How much prep work do you do? How far out do you prep?

I would say it varies session to session, which is probably normal. I've played around with completely homebrewing some shorter sessions, but there honestly isn't a place for that in my work life balance, so I've turned to running published material (namely Curse of Strahd). That takes a lot of the burden of prep off, since I more rarely am designing things from scratch-- although I do my fair share of modification, and there still is plenty of stuff that I have to figure out myself! For most games I will make sure I have the sections that I will need from the book marked out and available, and especially if looks like it's gonna be a sort of open-ended RP game, I'll write out certain guidelines for myself into my campaign notebook so it's easier for me to keep track of things (I also do this for combat, in that I'll usually write a few lines about major figures' goals, if they're relevant, and maybe their first move or two). I try not to prep much beyond what I think will fit in a session (because I frankly don't have time), but sometimes I overestimate, and will end up with notes that last me three sessions. But beyond sort of vague notions of bigger picture building blocks that are moving in the background, I try to only prep stuff I think will be immediately pertinent. And I do trust my improv skills enough where a lot of that will be vague sketching! For example, in CoS there's a festival that's upcoming in one of the major cities, but the book has truly no information about what the festival itself entails beyond sort of a morbid procession, so I went into that game with an opening scene, a vague thought about ring toss, and a vague thought about local card sharks, and just kind of played it by ear from there. And it was one of our most fun games! I do prep a LOT for combat though-- we play on roll20 so I'm cobbling together maps (which usually will take an hour or so depending) and will often times write out entire stat blocks so I don't have to be looking for them. I do use the dnd beyond encounter tracker some of the time, but in big, complicated encounters, I find that can actually make my life extra confusing, so I do a lot of handwriting shit out on paper.

tpk: Have you ever had a game go completely off the rails? TPK? How did you adjust?

I did in fact facilitate a TPK in my current campaign which was !!!! yeah I would say off the rails is putting it mildly! The entire party was slaughtered by dire wolves, which was a random encounter on the way to a completely different objective so. very unexpected. It was one of those games that truly makes you feel insane, and it was almost entirely down to rolls-- I was rolling very well for these wolves (I think I crit 3 or 4 times?) and they were rolling extremely poorly. It was honestly easier for me that everyone went out than just a few people, because it meant that I could make on the fly decisions for the group and no one had to sit out the rest of the session. So, once the last person went down I gave everyone a kind of solo limbo vignette where we zeroed in on some character/backstory stuff for each of them, just to kind of settle everyone (which was really fun to do, especially since there's a lot they don't know about each other's histories, some more than others), and took a five minute recess to figure out what to do next-- I was lucky that unbeknownst to the party, they were on their way to knock on the door of a hag coven, who had their own reasons to want them alive, so I ended up having them all wake up as their captives. Congrats, you made it to where you were going! Sorry, you're still fucked! And THAT ended up being one of the most fun, intense encounters we've run. And I certainly am weaving some threads in the background about how exactly they survived and what the long-term consequences of that are.

[bells-of-black-sunday]

Egg has me feral over our league verse we've been developing so let me ramble-

One thing me and Egg discussed heavily in terms of Tarhos was his lore and how kind of not bad, but weird it is and how it's framed. Granted I do wonder if it's because of some of the leaks we got and things being backed out of, because that has happened due to leaks before, but with him in particular it's just this weird framing of trying to make him being this big angry person who reveals in the misery and violence of others, but the way he speaks and his inner thoughts that's not the case at all.

No one who enjoys the cruelty and violence the inflict on everything around them sits there and complains about everything about it that much. The cruelty of nobles and men who preach. He is fine with it, because he doesn't lie about what he does. That sounds more like a trauma response than someone who actually enjoys it, like he knows what he's doing is bad, but it's all he knows how to do so he's not going to burden himself with the guilt. Granted I could go on and write a whole different novel about that, but I will refrain.

Generally when I made the first iteration of his league verse I thought about it for maybe 5 seconds, because as someone whose primarily a horror rp blog, I don't really keep up with l.eague lore and most big lore drops are tied to in game events that I can't participate in anyway. That being said: when I made him single ship I knew I'd have to update it at some point and after I started doing the research for Aatrox, the darkins themes really stood out to me as fitting pretty closely to how I write my Tarhos.

Being forced to get along with someone like Haru and learning how to see life through the eyes of something he'd deem lesser definitely has made him soft in the eyes of his kin, but he doesn't care. He's tired of the in-fighting, the way they lashed at each other like rabid animals instead of the proud warriors they once were. And most importantly he's not even sure if anyone else is awake. He was stuck in the sea tossed among the waves for so long he doesn't even remember.

Haruko found him during the Noxian invasion wedged in the rocks of the tidepools, broken, but calling to him and while Tarhos would be frustrated for a while they he's unable to claim the vastayan as a vessel he is well aware he is reliant on Haru if he wants to find another lest he be left alone again and he can't stand the silence anymore. Together they kill any Noxians they stumble across and Tarhos keeps him safe watching his back for any potential threats that might appear.

Becoming so in tune they can read each others thoughts and feelings as if they were one being and the darkin stops wanting to try to end the cycle of his own suffering and instead wants to live for the man he loves and cares for. He is learning how to heal and it's a slow process and the brutality of his nature still appears, but when Haru's around he's so soft. He'd do anything for that man. And that man would do anything for him.

When he does eventually get a vessel he can consume and bend to his will, he stays. Preferring to lay in the forest and let his lover worship him like the god he once was even if his meaning has been long lost and the images of the void are forever scarred into his mind. He has a place to rest now, he's no longer at war even if he still fights.

[its-the-val-pal]

This is long and entirely OOC, so I don't expect anyone to read! It's fairly personal, but I need to get thoughts out and all that. So feel free to bail <3 thanks for clicking either way and ily, whoever you are.

I am a very private person, normally. I keep to myself, my one or two contacts, and just sort of go about my business. But lately I've been told that, due to my overactive mind, it would probably help to toss my thoughts out somewhere and get things on paper. A confession, if you will. And I was also told that I don't have to send it; that people often write letters and burn them up and.. whatever.

But that doesn't suit me, because I don't like wasting time and I don't like doing things that--at least to me--don't have a purpose. And I can argue with myself that writing things down and out certainly has a purpose, but it doesn't feel like it unless it's actually thrown out somewhere.

That being said, I don't expect to do these often. Or maybe I'll post the rest privately or something. I'm not sure. I'll probably figure that out as I go. But this is, for now, a confession of something I've realized about myself.

I really, really started to think a lot of things I enjoyed were dumb. I hid myself away in work in the desire for progress and betterment and.. that's fine. All things in moderation. But I don't do moderation so well. And in that, in being surrounded by people that often thought my favorite hobbies were ignorant, I started to feel the same way about them. And so I did a lot of it less and less. And that, in turn, hurt a lot of people I really care about. People that I've alienated for one reason or another and lost sight of that close bond and friendship.

And.. lately, I think I've come to realize how much I miss those things. It's a big part of why I've returned. I had only unsubbed for about three months, but the truth is I've really been gone much longer than that. And that was disrespectful to a lot of people, chief of those being my RP partner at the time who for some reason stuck around far longer than they should have. And I'll never be able to apologize to them enough for it. Or probably get that back.

I've really enjoyed exploring my characters and writing again. And how much the use of mods, which I once abhorred, really helped breathe life back into characters in a game that the aesthetic just never seemed to match. Val never had cool jackets and pants like he should have. Melfice barely got dark clothing to wear. The rest were.. okay, but those two were always my main characters and not having something to fit them felt very limiting.

So yeah. All things in moderation, and I keep telling myself that, and I'm not entirely sure where Val's current story will take him or where he'll end up, but I am definitely looking forward to it. There are certainly places I'd like for it to go, but whether he ends up there or not is out of my hands. And if I'm being honest? I hate that, too. Lack of control is something I've always struggled with. I don't do well when I can't manage things myself. And while this arc has been great, I've found myself missing Miqo'te Val and all the RP and fun I used to have on him.

Will he ever get that back? Sure. I'll bring him back to a Miqo'te once this plot has ran its course, assuming he lives through it. I've always had a big "if my character dies, they die" thing and.. I'm not going to shy away from it. I don't mind. It's part of the fun for me, really. Will he ever find another? Or get over his lost love? Or even be able to move on? Or, gods willing, reunite with his one true love?

I suppose time will tell.

[indigo-flightly-falls]

YES

(I'm assuming this is about the minecraft OCs)

Okay so I have a bunch so I'm splitting everything into three categories:

No story impact (mostly mob based)

Little story impact (minesonas that are basically ocs now)

BIG story impact (ocs that are inserted into canon)

Anyways, here we go!

No story impact:

These guys are mostly made up of some older ocs from summer 2022, all of which are based off certain mobs!

Some of my favorites are the following:

Endi, based off an enderman. This dude (gender neutral) is super fun, really sweet, and would kill a man for fun. They've never had a set gender, but they/he/she pronouns work pretty much all the time. Some fun deleted lore for them: he was suppose to be a recartnated Ranbulter. That storyline was scrapped but still, it was an important part of her backstory :D

Purple, who I really really need to rename lol. A bunch of these guys were based off dsmp characters and then got revamped. He/it for pronouns! He's actually dating Endi, and they've got a 'tired bodyguard X sunny charge' dynamic going on. Also he was a pirate for a while.

Candee, a rabbit/watcher hybrid! They're just chill. Like I don't have a lot put down for them story wise, but I love them sm.

Honestly most of these characters are just there. They've got some stuff going on but I don't really use them much more.

Little story impart: (note, these guys mostly started out a minesonas and now just vibe)

Indigo (she/they). My very first minecraft character. I was going to make a minecraft rp with my old irl friend. We planned out the lore as well. Here's a quick summary:

Indigo and Firefly founded a city in a ravine

They start building around and at some point end up in the Nether

They fucking get corrupted by the Warped & Crimson vines.

Cue a cult similar to the egg from dsmp.

They eventually get kicked out and fall victim to the corruption.

Indigo fucking dies from fall damage (cue username), Firefly goes nuts.

After that things got really muddled but I think Indigo got revived at some point.

There was a lot going on lol.

I think I wrote for her to have a crush on Firefly, which is weird because that would be basically me having a crush on my irl friend. I try to forget that.

Mostly she's been forgotten about, but I do hold a specially place in my heart for the memories.

Nothing (they/it). My newest minesona! They're what's called a polymorph, a being made of the void itself. They basically have no set form and like to shapeshift into whatever it wants!

So yeah, that's it for little story impact.

Now time for BIG story impact. (aka ocs inserted into canon)

Starting out I need to mention Starling. This dude cannot beat the Watcher allegations. Except he's actually not a Watcher lol. He's a violet backed starling hybrid with Starborn ancestors! Also he's like 10. Also he's adopted by Hels & Ex for some fun backstory lore.

Shelly (she/her), this one's actually a Watcher lol. She's like 9 and I love her dearly. She's just a kid who lives in Helscraft. I love her.

I actually think 90% of Helscraft fits in this area but I'm not listing them.

Elli! My newest character! They're a dragon hybrid! Specifically a slithersong hybrid. I created them less then 24 hours ago so not much to note.

Yeah I don't have much to say now. I'm gonna go find toh fics because I just watched the finale