#rp audition

[harmoniashines]

(( hello hello !! Quick ooc post here.

We, at Keeping Up With The Jashlings, are looking for a Mind! I have a Google form linked here for anyone who would want to audition for the role.

Good luck to everyone interested! ))

[strangerqueerthings]

Meeting the new "King."

He didn’t like parties. Not the kind that came to mind when someone mentioned “high school parties,” anyway.

His idea of a good party was a small group of friends deep in the woods or overlooking the quarry at night, shooting the shit around a bonfire, music playing from the speakers of an open car door or a portable boombox, with a cooler full of beers and Mountain Dew, a few pizzas, bags of chips, and a few well rolled joints.

Good, close, safe company. Like-minded friends, with shared interests and compatibility based on trust.

A party with music so loud that it’s impossible to hear, mixed with the equally loud shouts of people fighting to be heard over it, in rooms packed with dancing bodies, couples doing everything but fucking in corners, and meat heads over-estimating their alcohol tolerance and yakking all over the floor- or in the bushes outside if they make it that far- was not his idea of a good time.

Eddie Munson was rarely, if ever invited to these kinds of parties- and even if he was, it’s not because anyone wants him there.

When Tina approached him between classes- after everyone had vacated the hallway, because she couldn’t be seen actually socializing with him- and handed him the flier, it wasn’t because she wanted him there. She wanted him to bring his product.

“Think you have enough for most of the senior and junior class?” she asked, only half-way joking.

He studied her for a moment, considering his options. He hated parties, he really did. He could say no, that Rick was in jail and as his main supplier, he simply didn’t have that kind of stock. He didn’t want to go, but the prospect of that many sales was too much to pass up.

He was so close to getting the last hundred bucks for that gorgeous guitar he’d seen in Chicago, and sales of that level would not only get him that last hundred, but enough for the gas to Chicago and back- and even some leftover for new picks, maybe, if he was lucky, even enough for a new amp.

The shopkeep told him he could only hold the guitar for him for so long, and Eddie was pushing that deadline to the very edge.

The truth was, he did have the stock- Rick had shown him where he grew the stuff, told him how to care for it. The cops hadn’t found it, and now the crop was his. At least until Rick got back.

So he’d told Tina he’d be there, but because it was late notice, his prices would be higher. Tina had reassured him she’d let interested parties know, and told him what time to be there, and where to “set up shop.”

So here he was, in the back yard, just on the edge of the light and dark from the back porch’s flood lamp, exchanging bud for bucks, grateful he was outside where it was nice and cool, and not nearly as loud and overwhelming.

He was vibrating with nerves and excitement. Nerves, because he’d seen Jason Carver, Tommy Hagan, and Steve Harrington- and he never could trust if they’d rat him out or not. Excitement, because he had sold over half the product he’d brought, and his pockets were full of cash.

He’d made close to two hundred bucks tonight, and he wasn’t sold out yet. That guitar was as good as his- he just had to finish selling and get the fuck out of dodge.

“Hey Freak.”

Eddie’s heart sank. He knew that voice. Hagan. Bully. Hot-head, obsessed with his girlfriend, and butt-buddy to Harrington, who was right beside him, approaching with Hagan. Great. Harrington. Goody two-shoes who lived in Loch Nora in a fucking brownstone with a heated pool, drove a BMW and wore designer clothes with his perfect hair.

Eddie had heard what Harrington did to Jonathan, and he wasn’t keen on letting him know what mattered to him, or what his hobbies were, lest the jock decide to do something similar to him.

“Tina invited me to sell, so don’t start shit, Hagan,” Eddie warned. “I’m staying out of sight, so I’m not tainting your precious party.”

Hagan gave him a shove to the chest, lifting his brows when Eddie kept his feet planted and didn’t budge. When Eddie knew he had every right to stand his ground, he did, and wouldn’t move- and he knew he had every right to be there in the capacity he had been invited for.

“Still peddling for Rick?” Hagan sneered. “Is it that garbage he sells for stupid high prices?”

“If you’re trying to get a sample, it isn’t gonna work, Hagan,” Eddie shot back. “You can pay like everyone else- it’s fifteen bucks per quarter ounce, cash only, no receipts, or fuck off.”

Harrington rolled his eyes as Hagan stepped closer.

“Tommy, it isn’t worth it, just leave him alone.”

Ignoring him, Hagan stepped closer, almost chest to chest with Eddie- who refused to back down.

“How about you give me enough for a joint, and I don’t call the cops on you, you little shit.”

“Yeah, call the cops on an entire house of folks drinking underage, ruin the party, make Tina mad at you, and end up in the doghouse with Carol. Don’t be fuckin’ stupid, man,” Harrington said, shaking his head. “If you want some that bad, pay the dude.”

“Level headed intelligence from you, Harrington?” Eddie asked, unable to stop himself- even if his tone was tinged with gratitude.

“Don’t push it, Munson,” Harrington shot back.

“Make way for the KING!” roared a very drunk voice, and Harrington immediately walked away as a shirtless guy in a kilt- whose name escaped Eddie- approached.

Hagan grinned wolfishly.

“Have fun dealing with the new King of Hawkins High, Freak. He probably won’t be as gentle and understanding as I am- not someone who does nearly a full minute keg stand.”

He followed Harrington back into the house, and Eddie turned his attention to the guy approaching him- the guy in the kilt had sat down hard on the stairs, too drunk to keep going.

Eddie felt his mouth go dry.

The new “King of Hawkins High” was probably the prettiest boy he’d ever seen in his life.

Golden skin and flaxen hair, sharp blue eyes and a chest and abs left bare under a black leather jacket, with his jeans practically painted onto his sculpted thighs, he looked like a gilded Rob Lowe, or a fairer, tanned Richard Marx.

A modern day Adonis, and Eddie felt his knees tremble a little before he remembered to lock them.

“So you’re the guy who has the good shit. Eddie Munson, right?” the gorgeous boy drawled, white teeth flashing brilliantly in his golden face, his grin wide, dangerous and gorgeous in equal measure with a Marlboro dangling carelessly from the corner of his mouth.

Eddie swallowed, hoping his throat didn’t give him away as he nodded.

“Yeah. Grow it, dry it, cure it, and sell it myself.”

“Folks say your supplier is some guy called Reefer Rick,” the boy said.

“He was. He’s in jail. I’m tending his shit until he’s out,” Eddie replied.

The boy nodded, his face serious.

“I get it. Gotta fill the void, make a buck, skip the middle man. Good business, if a bit risky.”

“You buying, or looking to invest?” Eddie joked, and his heart skipped a beat when the other boy laughed. It was like the pealing of a bell during a rolling clap of thunder.

“Invest? No, no, too much time involved. I don’t plan on staying in this shithole after I graduate- I’m just wanting to buy and enjoy a buzz to distract me from the misery that is being in a podunk like this pit.”

His blue eyes glittered, staring directly into Eddie’s like a wary, hungry wolf’s, and he felt pinned under that predatory gaze.

“So. What’s your rate?” he asked casually, flicking the butt of his cigarette with his tongue to move it from one side of his mouth to the other.

“Fifteen per quarter ounce,” Eddie replied, and the other boy pursed his lips, the cigarette flicking upwards as he reached into the impossibly tight back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his wallet. He rummaged through it, frowning.

“All I’ve got is a twenty. Got change… or willing to do a special for a new customer?”

Eddie wanted to tell him he could have half an ounce for free if he’d tell him his name, but he swallowed his stupid star-struck feelings that would have him driven out of the state.

He put on a show of considering, frowning, putting a hand to his chin and rubbing at his lower lip with his index finger for a few moments before dropping it with a shrug.

“You’re new…. And I believe in good first impressions… so I can be generous,” he finally said, shrugging his bookbag off and opening it. He rummaged through his stock and pulled out a pre-packed and weighed bag containing half an ounce of weed.

“Twenty for half an ounce- but if anyone asks, you paid thirty for it. Can’t have anyone coming back for refunds,” he said, holding it out.

“Thanks,” the boy said, taking the bag and placing the twenty in his palm.

“Good doing business,” Eddie said, shoving the twenty into his pocket. “Just uh… go easy with that batch- that particular bag is pretty heavy. Don’t smoke any unless you don’t plan on going anywhere for a while.”

The boy grinned again.

“Just what I need- especially since there’s nowhere to go in this shithole.”

He put the back in the pocket of his leather jacket, and before Eddie could lower his hand, he grabbed it, shaking it. His grip was warm, firm, the tendons of his hands feeling like whipcord under the calloused skin.

“Name’s Billy Hargrove,” he drawled. “And I will likely see you again.”

Eddie sure as hell hoped he would.

He was no longer regretting coming to this party.

[showfall-media-company]

Hey Cade, ya ready? Lemme know if you are

-💫

yeah, yeah, sorry. ready whenever, ive just been busy today. free right now though.

[could-they-be-a-pro-wrestler]

Oh what the hell.

Submitting my AU canon-divergent Commander Rourke from Atlantis the Lost Empire.

I have a fic series with him (I'm sorry, I couldn't decide which one best showed his character.) And I RP him here, so he has an info page.

I really hope people give him a chance, because he's very different from his canon counterpart.

If it means anything here, he was worthy to possess the power of Thor. His canon counterpart was not (Canon WAS, however, the lowest percentage of Yes votes, which is funny to me for some reason.)

*Photo edit done by me.

Can (AU) Commander Lyle Tiberius Rourke perform a…

[themountainscall]

There you lay, pelted by hundreds of rain droplets as you weakly try to compose yourself. Everything seemed to go numb. The only thing you felt was nature’s brutality striking your pelt relentlessly as you lay helpless.

The forest was so close, yet so far. You didn’t know if you’d ever make it there. The salvation you’d heard of… the stories detailing the barbarian felines who ruled the woodlands… it would only be seen in your dreams.

You shut your eyes, the roaring of thunder overhead causing you to flinch into the soaked earth.

You had lost all hope.

You were stranded.

. . .

You felt a presence.

Your eyes weakly opened, and you were shocked to see… a group of cats. Massive, scarred, terrifyingly tall… They watched you like a piece of prey. You could only pray that they’d make your death swift.

Until, the one with the purple stare spoke up.

“Join us.”

🌙

Welcome to The Mountain’s Call!

We are a literate, 15+ roleplay group over on discord looking for more people to join us!

In a prehistoric world where humans cease to exist yet, a group of savage felines roam the Swiss Alps, fending off their home from unrestrained predators we now know as extinct.

Deep in the dense woodlands resides a legion of cats known as Alpine Clan. However, these aren’t your normal forest cats. With augmented senses, larger bodies, sharper claws, keener vision, and overall stronger physiques, these animals are on par with their feline brethren, such as cougars and lynxes.

We offer many things in our server, such as:

Totally new and reworked ranks, including 2 new (Sage, Berserker) ones that are crucial to the lore of the roleplay.

Original and unique traditions to make the roleplay more well-rounded.

Constant opportunities to have your character be more involved in the lore.

OOC channels to share your artwork, create and search for character relationships, and give suggestions for upcoming lore.

And so much more!

We are currently on CHAPTER 2: INFESTATION PART I, and will be moving into Part 2 soon.

🌑

So you’re all caught up, here’s a run-down of the Chapter 1 lore:

CHAPTER 1:

The moon will overtake the sky, leaving the forest to awake the shunned, red-eyed giant.

The clan’s czar, Wind Star, is awoken by his sage, Crimson Peak, frantically running into camp and begging to speak with him. After visiting the caves to speak with the ancestors, Crimson claims he could not speak with the stars, but was rather face to face with a great horned beast with giant red eyes and blood stained across its brown pelt.

Wind Star does not know what to make of this, so he tries to soothe the manic tomcat before telling him to keep this a secret between the two of them, and to not even tell Crimson’s acolyte, Moonlit Paw. Who also happened to be Wind Star’s daughter from his late mate. Crimson reluctantly agrees, and they both keep this disturbing prophecy to themselves.

🌒

A moon later, Wind Star and his new mate, Snow Step, have a litter of three kittens. Crow Kit, Polar Kit, and Smoke Kit. However, tensions are still high within the high ranks of Alpine Clan. No one is able to contact the ancestors. No one has been visited, no one, not even the sages, are able to see or speak to them. They grow worried, but Wind Star is still reluctant to tell the clan. He persuades his subordinates to keep it to themselves just for a little while longer, and they hesitantly agree. However, a few days later… something terrible would happen to the clan. Something that many cats interpreted as a signal that the stars were angry.

🌓

A flock of Sun Wings (giant condors) flew over the camp and attacked the clan. Three cats died, many were injured, and everyone was confused. Crimson Peak begged to let the clan know, but Wind Star had begun to… act different. He began to lose it, claiming that all the bad happening to the clan was from the direct influence of Crimson Peak. The sage himself bore the only red eyes in the entire clan, Wind Star was certain that what Crimson Peak saw was an alternate version of himself. The tom’s grew distant with one another, both wanting to help their clan, however… both having different ways of wanting to do so.

🌔

Three cats, War Cry, Bee Paw, and Mountain Caller all had their sleep disturbed with a nightmare. However, it seemed… all too real to be any type of dream. War Cry’s dream consisted of a giant beast with reddened eyes destroying their camp while she was cemented to the earth, unable to move. Bee Paw’s had him morph into the disgusting creature, soon being attacked and killed by everyone he loved. Mountain Caller’s dream had him faced with his brother as a kit, being forced to kill him. He refuses, however as he blinks away his tears, the kit transforms into the czar he knew, and kills him.

🌕

It all came to a climax when Crimson Peak stood at his altar inside of the sages den. He sobbed, begging for the stars to speak to him, give him a sign, do anything to let him know that he wasn’t alone. His wallowing was interrupted by Wind Star. The tom entered the den and began insulting Crimson, claiming it was his fault that the stars had gone silent. However, when Crimson turned around to defend himself, he was met with… purple eyes rather than the familiar fiery ones he was used to. Wind Star attacks Crimson Peak, pushing him into the old wooden altar, shattering it. Inside of the czar’s head, Wind Star’s consciousness fights brutally against the plague that had infected him. However, it was futile. The czar was killed, banished to the dark forest, and his body had been transformed into nothing but a hollow vessel that this imposter had full control of.

The czar rushed to call a clan meeting, his mania prominent as he demoted Crimson Peak and his own daughter to prisoners. Alpine Clan could only watch in horror as the czar they once respected had seemingly fallen off the deep end. Cats rushed to defend their sages, angering the imposter. Wind Star’s mate had tried to soothe the angered crowd, begging Wind to stop the meeting before he did anything else he regretted. Crimson Peak suddenly called the imposter out on not being their true czar, glaring up at him with no intent of becoming scum in the prisoners den.

The fake czar looked around, and upon realizing no one would be on his side, decided his fate then and there. Purple eyes gazed upon the throng once more before they launched down upon the sage, swiftly snapping his neck with one bite. The crowd erupted in shock, however before the imposter could do any more harm, he was killed by his luminary, Mountain Caller, Wind Star’s little brother.

The clan had no time to process what had just happened. As the prophecy that Crimson had tried to warm everyone about had just come storming into camp. A gargantuan beast the side as the trees raged into camp, blood on its tusks as it rampaged through the clearing. Mountain Caller, now Star, called for his clan to evacuate towards the river. There was no way they could fight against it. The camp was demolished via the beast's dirtied hooves, with countless cats being crushed, injured, and killed. Its eyes glowed an angry red. It seemed the beast only had intentions to kill.

After what felt like moons, the great tusked mammoth grew tired, and its eyes faded back to their more gentle brown. The creature seemed… confused. It didn’t seem to know how it ended up in the camp. It roared before stomping off, leaving a trail of purple flowers in its wake.

Many cats were killed. Many cats were lost in the chaos. Moonlit Paw, and Crow Kit, Wind Star’s two daughters fled to the moors in a desperate attempt to survive the attacks. No one knows where they went, or if they are even alive.

🌑

Chapter 2: Infestation, will be split into four parts —

Infestation I:

Beads of purple begin to decorate the territory as the drift fades into its colder months. Star Clan is completely silent. No one can speak to the stars. Cats are acting worried, but normal.

Infestation II:

Stalks of purple flowers bloom in camp, the sawbones begin to examine them, testing and tasting to see if they could be used for any medicinal properties. They find out that the flowers are poisonous & being in the vicinity of them can cause aggression, confusion, and volatility. Alpine Clan tries to remove them, but it seems they just grow back faster. Cats have begun to hallucinate, claiming they can speak to the “stars”.

Infestation III:

The clan has descended into shambles. The flowers continue to bloom, infesting the trees and thistles around the camp as well. Birds have begun to die from them, and it seems not even the snow can eliminate them. Cats claim they are closer to the stars than ever. They have begun worshiping a cat called ████, and have begun to shun all non-believers. Non-believers seem to be completely healthy, even when surrounded by the plants. Alpine Clan is at an all time low.

Infestation IV:

Alpine Clan is introduced to their salvation.

—

If you’re interested in applying, feel free to DM this account and I’ll send you a form!

🪻

[draculas-curse]

It had been so long since he’d last stepped foot here. Arikado looked up at the ivory walls, the sprawling patterns across marble, the elegant high roof that coalesced into a glassy top. Pillars stood high, seeming to support the weight of the very heavens, built smooth and unyielding, carved with the utmost skill and accented with a golden flare. From the ceiling hung sheer curtains, lavender, surely of what would be a most coveted material were he to reach high enough to touch them. He sighed, footsteps ghosting soundlessly across the floor, and considered it. Would anyone see him here, were he to indulge himself in such a way? It would be so childish of him, a long-forgotten urge he’d left behind along with his twisted innocence.

No, nobody would see it. He was alone in this room. Shielded, perhaps. Chaos thrummed through his veins with a steady hum, warm, permeating his senses. If he reached out, spread his fingers just a little, he could feel it, how the Castle shifted, the monsters dazed and stupefied and the people grouped around the entrance waiting in terse suspension. He did not recall having such a connection in his youth. Was it the Castle’s desperation for a lord, any lord at all, that lended it such lenience, the ability to open itself back up to a traitor? Or could it sense his compliance? He had no directly harmful inclinations. His own activities would not be ill-intentioned. Whatever it was, he was left to himself, just for a moment, for a fragment of time. Until Jones appeared, until Soma appeared, Arikado could do what he liked.

Carefully, he ascended the steps to the throne, and lowered himself into the lonely seat. It sat elevated, unaccompanied, a place reserved for the Castle’s most beloved monster – the one that would be its master. Yet, it did not complain when the disgraced prince settled back into the ruby cushioning, the colour of the pocket square against his breast, the colour of the blood beneath his shoes. He could overlook the throne room in its entirety like this. The beauty of its construction, he could see, was marred by the inescapability of its inner monstrosity. On the stairs, blood sat wet and thick, pooling forever fresh. It was where Dracula had bled, years ago. But his blood had been black, and sticky, and more like tar than not. Arikado remembered that very well. He had been soaked in it. It was the same blood as that which ran in his own veins. Leaning back, he rested his head. The throne was too tall for him, too wide. His eyes gazed half-lidded at the farthest corners of the walls, where the marble was strewn with cracks. Behind him was a face that curled in agony, letting loose with eternal tears.

When he was young, he had often entertained the idea of sitting in this very position. A whimsical desire to do naught but tease his father, he thought, though the memories blurred at the edges. He tried not to think of those times. Now, this throne was bereft and cold. There was no king to rule over the hordes of ghouls that clamoured aimlessly for direction. The only person Arikado teased by sitting here was himself. Was Death here? They’d caught sight of one another. Perhaps Soma had already dealt with him, and held his soul under command. He doubted the old man would mind such a thing. The shinigami had always lived to be used. Arikado did not.

The curse in his genes was one with the curse in the Castle’s walls. It bolstered him. Somehow, he knew already that Graham Jones was making haste to claim this very throne, rushing up flights upon flights of stairs, wrenching himself through the mindless undead he would soon make his subjects. Yoko’s scheme had failed. Their scheme, even. He should not cleanse himself of culpability for allowing her to come to harm. In the end, it had proven convenient, of course. The mistake had allowed for an unseen benefit, in that it had simply incentivised Soma to hurry. Arikado couldn’t afford him going too far off-track. Not if he wanted this to end according to plan. Of course, he always could have stayed using the girl for motivation. The Castle loved nothing more than to chip away at the guileless young ladies of her ilk. Her sanity was wavering, proven every time he returned to renew his barrier, the barest measure of protection keeping the skeletons from inviting her to join them. Yoko didn’t have to get hurt. The scent of her blood didn’t have to intoxicate him, and had no occasion to swarm his senses like that. It was senseless. But weren't two responsibilities more pressing than one?

If Jones was soon to arrive, then Soma would be right after. Things could still go well. Jones would still be dealt with, and then he could continue to proceed with his own goals. Yoko would still be freed of her problem. He owed her that much, for helping him like this. Arikado rose, slipping away from the throne. A spot of black in a sea of white, he moved like a shadow, heading for the balcony just ahead. He didn’t need to be inside the room to know what would happen, and like this, it would be easier to mask his presence, at least from an inexperienced sovereign. Him and the Castle, twin creatures of Chaos, beholden to their roles; Arikado felt the rabbit hops of Jones’ hurrying up the stairs as if he was walking over the dhampir’s own flesh. Soma moved more like a wolf on the hunt.

One of them was going to die tonight, if he was lucky. Two if he was less lucky. No matter what, there would be death. He had enough cards left up his sleeves to guarantee that, at least.

[theotherdeerinhell]

Looking for an Alastor Player

This is pretty much for a Discord server for an AU idea I have. (Weredeer AU)

AU info that's been worked out so far:

Alastor is a scientific experiment gone wrong, where he is a deer man who can turn into a whole-ass deer, and he is essentially patient 0 of a new species where their main form of spreading their kind is by going nom vampire style.And it's just...a wholesome found family, and the victims are like...the best society has to offer. Genius engineers, brilliant architects, caring doctors, kind and generous, etc. Stealing heaven's candidates to vibe in a hidden fantasy-style village as deer people, basically.

There will just be the weredeer to start with, but it will eventually lead to more beasts popping up IE failed victims of the turnings, and there would be like wars and stuff...along with a werebeast hunter problem plaguing everyone. (Pre-determined allies: werecats would be their pets (likely ended up that way IE losing a battle against the weredeer) and wereroaches are willing servants)

Even with other species of werebeasts, weredeer will still be the strongest and biggest, just from being around the longest. Thus, they would've had more time to train in combat and multiply. But once there is a weredeer kingdom, the towns would be a common target due to them being well designed with good quality architecture and infrastructure. The werebeast world is a hidden world.

Not about self:

I just want a place where I would get to have fun roleplaying as my boi, starting out as his pre-transition self because becoming a werebeast is gender-affirming. (Alastor and Rabo meeting and becoming family would be more satisfying if done on screen and is not just backstory stuff). My rp length matches with my partner. If any candidates would like to know more about Rabo, let me know. I'll send his Toyhouse profile over. (Note: It doesn't work on all devices, especially the images. Discord is a very weird host for images for some reason, and I'm just too lazy to hunt all the images down in the code and change them. No clue what the mobile experience is like, probably miserable.) Not all of Rabo's info will be relevant for the Weredeer AU because...different timeline, adoy.

Note about Alastor:

Due to the wholesome nature of the AU, Weredeer!Alastor is likely sweeter in personality and less villainous. An alpha who cares about his herd (even if it's in his own way). He still very much eats the bad people, though. But while his personality may be a little different, he is still Alastor. Whatever that means is up to interpretation.

I pretty much just need a player who is willing to have an adopted fanchild, doesn't fuss as people for shipping Alastor with characters (they don't have to want to ship or have to ship Alastor if they don't want to, I just don't need to introduce that kind of arguing in my friend group), and has a decent understanding of the character.

I'm not super fussy over rp post length, just have it be more than one sentence per post. Rp is something I personally do purely for fun, and had my start on ROBLOX a looonng time ago (before they removed Tix), so I don't take it super seriously. So the most important part is that the player has fun with this goofy little thing.

You can apply either by giving around a drabble of written Alastor rp passage, or we can do a short rp. Both options should be sent VIA DMs.

Note to rpers who don't play Alastor, but read this far in:

Due to the large scale I want for this rp, shoot me a DM. It could just be a character idea, a drabble, or anything else depending on what you want to do.

There isn't a server yet, since there's no point in creating it until an Alastor player is found.

[unrequiteddeath]

Audited Morality

@villagerain liked for a starter! If only Lazard Deusericus had known that blackmail was the easy part. Perhaps then he would have reconsidered. But it was almost insidious how simple it was to gradually snake up the corporate ladder. One might have more difficulty plucking the wings from a butterfly. All it required was a simple letter, delivered on one President ShinRa's desk, and some weeks later, the documentation of whatever had been requested would be returned to him, hand delivered by one of the many shadows that slithered within the dark heart of ShinRa. But it took more than senseless cruelty or leveraged information to rise where he did now. It took competency. It took proving that every ridiculous height Lazard aimed to climb next would be done so in stride. And while he had more or less sold his soul to achieve that mostly new title of Director of SOLDIER, he would be a liar if he did not say that the look on Heidegger's face at the conference table was more than priceless as his department was forced to split under Lazard's relentless pressure. Nonetheless, no matter how shiny his freshly printed block label looked at his new office space, there were plenty more piles of paperwork that flooded his desk like a ceaseless tide of passive aggression from his fellow, downsized, Director. Lazard took it in stride, laboring with minimal distraction until an alarm gently beeped from his watch. Swift to arrange the documents he was in the middle of reviewing in such a way he could return to them later without too much confusion, Lazard collected his pinstripe suit from off the back of his chair, collected his soft leather satchel to make his way to the elevators. With a swipe of his badge, he punched in the floor dedicated to General Affairs. Evidently, PR had a bit of a conundrum. War was never a pristine or pure sort of thing, and it was inevitable that a situation could devolve rather quickly. When survival was on the line, all sorts of things... 'happened'. Not all of them were public friendly. And in this particular instance, the significance of the 'won' battle was too important to simply fail to report it. But the casualties were steep. Too steep for PR's taste.

The elevator arrived shortly, and after briefly approaching the closest occupied desk and the Turk evidently working there. "Pardon," He intruded softly. "My name is Lazard. I have a meeting with someone named Balto? Are they in?"

[soulaihiko]

Auditions!

Hey hey, my name is Soul and I'm currently making a Bedrock Minecraft roleplay that is a Yandere roleplay. It has slightly darker theming due to it taking place in Kaiju Academy, a collage for both monsters and humans to learn together. It's a slightly more mature roleplay that anyone can try auditioning for if they can handle the topics we'll be including in the roleplay.

Some parts of this roleplay are inspired by LadyMania's yandere series and Akuma Academy by SirCutieYuki. But even with these inspirations, this series is completely original.

Most art will be done by NenaFirerose and (my friend) Soul.

This roleplay will have some restrictions due to it being on Bedrock Edition, but we're currently lovingly sculpting the roleplay with our team and some volunteers. All characters up for auditions are customisation for each voice actor who gets the role, you can design their backgrounds and character from what the descriptions are. But if one doesn't want to, you can ask either me or my closest team members to create a background for you.

[farginen]

can someone explain to me why there are GROUP ads in the indie rp tag? y'all already colonized the regular rp tags instead of using the rpg (as in rp group) tags and now you want to spam the indie ones too? i'm gonna start bullying.

[whatrealbeautylookslike]

THE WAY I WASNT EVEN ROLEPLAYING HERE

[ccrp-qna]

Ted don't call any animal sexy you will get put on a list

I don’t mean an actual fuckin’ rabbit, jesus. I mean like bunny costumes, cartoon rabbits and shit. Like that bunny from Zootopia or whatever.

[backgroundwizard]

New fear unlocked: auditing a class you're not in, only for nobody who is actually in that class to show up so you're stuck there with a really enthusiastic teacher who starts asking you weird questions about your magic.

Someone come to sorcery class with me, please?

[bolinity]

for the meta meme: I noticed how you write Bolin's tendency to ramble. it is very ic ! I was wondering if you have any thoughts about this.

❖ || send me a topic to write meta about my muse on!

Oh gosh, thank you so much!

I guess for any character I write for, I really like to pay attention to those little things they do with their speech when I watch back for reference (because it's okay to rewatch things to keep your characters fresh in your brain!) — even their hesitation markers, where they speed up/slow down, how much they talk, when they interject/join conversations, how they speak when they're specific emotions like disappointed, bashful, excited, etc etc. When I'm typing, I try to also hear them say the words I type in the my head, and if I don't like how it sounds/can't hear them say it, I backspace lol.

Especially with characters like Bolin and Wu, they have BIIIIIG personalities and wear their emotions on their sleeves, so it's fairly easy for me to capture their emotions in order for me to write replies lol.

With Bolin specifically, I like to think that his mouth is faster than his brain — very much talk now, think later. And then when he actually has a moment to understand what he said, he backpedals a little to make sure that he's actually understood in his (very fast) train of thought. When he's trying to be thoughtful, his speech is slower, but he also gets caught up in his feelings which will make him deter and ramble again.

He also likes to just say things for funsies, no matter how absurd they are — if the situation calls for it (some of the time). Like who the heck exclaims "I'm a boy!" when Meelo says he's going to take the boys to the boys' side of Air Temple Island? Like, Bo, you goober; people know this already — why did you have to say that lol

[thistleandthorn-promos]

We’re an active 20+ roleplay group with adult themes of BDSM in a fully D/s society. We've been open six years! OCs are welcome, and siblings/multiples are also possible and encouraged. Semi-based on Riverdale characters and themes, but knowledge of the Riverdale universe is not required.

RP Main Blog: @thistleandthorn-rpg​

Full Plot

Masterlist

Applications

Full Navigation

[psiidol]

tag dump 1/?