#springhole

[mrspectreorgadgetcoat83]

Part one of me using random generators on Springhole for my original character Iris (more on her later). The generator this time? The random gown generator. I tried my best to follow the description, though I did incorporate some elements of that dress Sam wore in the recap in the first episode of the Sam & Max cartoon (which said episode has one of the weirdest endings I have ever witnessed in a cartoon, and this is from the very first episode). Yes, there’s also a picture of some zinnia flowers, so I could base the dress off of it.

[thescrump]

shoutout to springhole.net

[nepalsaysrawr]

Outfit prompts

Take them if you want. Interpret them how you'd like.

Your outfit is done in orange, brown, and dark green. You are wearing a medium-length dress with a poofy skirt, a high gathered waist, and elbow-length wide sleeves, as well as a pair of shoes with heels and a medium-length cloak. Your accessories include a silk scarf, a wide- brimmed hat, and a collar necklace.

Your outfit is done in dark gray, vivid pink, and brass. You are wearing a tunic with no sleeves, as well as a pair of boots and a corset. Your accessories include a crossbelt and a beanie cap.

Your outfit is done in gray, magenta, and silver. You are wearing a long tunic with a single elbow-length wide sleeve and a short frilled skirt, as well as a pair of short boots.

Your outfit is done in pastel yellow and dark turquoise. You are wearing a loose top with a single short sleeve and a pair of shorts, as well as a pair of sneakers.

Your outfit is done in orange, dark brown, blue, and white. You are wearing a tunic with round sleeves and a sash tied around the waist, as well as a pair of knee-high boots with heels. Your accessories include a narrow belt, a bowler hat, and an ascot.

Your outfit is done in pastel yellow and white. You are wearing a medium-length dress with a flared skirt, a loose waist, and a single long loose sleeve, as well as a pair of shoes. Your accessories include a pendant and a narrow belt.

Your outfit is done in gray, magenta, and silver. You are wearing layered robes, as well as a pair of tennis shoes.

Your outfit is done in gray, brown, dark blue, and gold. You are wearing layered robes with a sash tied around the waist, as well as a pair of loafers and a short cloak.

Your outfit is done in magenta, light green, and dark gray. You are wearing a shirt with elbow- length gathered sleeves and a short layered skirt, as well as a pair of sneakers and a medium- length jacket.

Your outfit is done in light turquoise, green, silver, and dark gray. You are wearing a loose top with a single short wide sleeve and a pair of calf-length trousers, as well as a pair of shoes.

[veryrealauthorthings]

[hapalopus]

When Moussa was 16 he was rebellious, and it only went downhill from there.

He was shirking his duties, as all teenagers are compelled to do. More than just doing it out of compulsion, Moussa took pleasure in performing this task in the least effective way possible. His sire, Raban, had asked him (or rather ordered him, Moussa thought with an eyeroll) to deliver a letter to another noble stallion. Lio of the Vazado Hearth - a big ornery bay, even worse than Raban. He hated Moussa's guts, but at least the feeling was mutual.

That colt of Raban's is too harebrained, he'd confessed once, after sunraising, when Raban had long left the temple grounds and Moussa was supposed to have left too. He's irresponsible. Useless. Everyone knows he cares too much for human affairs and too little for the future of our clan.

When Lio talked about "our clan" he did not include humans or horses. Moussa had heard it all before, the disrespect, the sheer disregard for his human friends. The scorn directed at himself, in specific. But hearing it again and again didn't make it hurt any less. If anything, it reinforced the tightening in Moussa's throat, the dull throbbing at his temples, and the hatred that'd been building up towards the entire Vazado Hearth and its allies.

So needless to say, he was in no hurry. He was in his human form, crunching gravel under leather soles, rather than kicking dust with hooves. Any other day, he'd be rushing about in horse or half-horse form.

But soon enough, with the twisting mountain paths, Moussa was out of sight of his own hearth. Away from the judgemental gaze of his sister and the much worse sympathetic side-eye of his dam.

His fingers worked the envelope with a practiced deftness, and he opened the letter, as any other courier with too much curiosity and too little interest in his job would do. He quickly scanned it.

Raban's cursive was neat and boldly calligraphed. Moussa couldn't help but think of his own chicken scratch and felt his ears flatten against his skull. Comparing himself to Raban was becoming a bad habit.

The letter said something about foreign trade and sending out a party to acquire more metals for their toolmakers. Few hrihriwa clans mined, and the A'atwe clan was no exception. Anything that couldn't be grown in a field or raised in a pen, they had to get from foreigners.

Moussa couldn't possibly care less. He expertly resealed the letter, stuffed it in his belt pouch, and continued on, sauntering more than walking, kicking pebbles, and paying attention to everything other than the task at hand. It was a balmy summer evening, cooling down after the midday heat, yet warm enough that the mosquitoes had yet to come out, and he enjoyed the last rays of sunshine bathing his face. Could anyone really get mad at him for just enjoying himself?

As he rounded a bend in the road, a well-know hut came into view. It was small and shabby, surrounded by flax fields and olive trees, and it made Moussa's heart skip a beat. Without realizing, his feet had let him to Zélie's house.

He had to make a choice. Thankfully for him it was an easy choice.

He'd barely knocked on the door before it opened and he found himself face to face with an enormously tall, broad, and surly-looking human.

"Is Zélie home?" Moussa asked, all irritation forgotten.

The man shook his head. "She went off with some friends half an hour ago. Said something about a game of summit ball." His voice rolled like distant thunder, in stark contrast with Moussa's sing-songy inflection. But Moussa had been coming around here for almost a decade and knew he had nothing to fear from Zélie's dad. A human farmer couldn't raise a finger against him, and he expertly ignored how his stomach turned at that thought.

"Thanks! I'll go find her." Moussa turned and waved at the man, who just shut the door in response.

Re-energized, Moussa willed his human legs to give way to a horse body, and trotted back up the road.

They had codewords, the kids of A'atwe. "Summit ball" was an old game - older than living memory - family friendly and beloved by all. In other words, it was a fantastic cover for the sparring games, hazing rituals, and dance parties that their parents either didn't or feigned not to know about.

Moussa broke into a canter, all duty forgotten. The gang had to be in the abandoned olive grove; no adults ever went there. It had become their usual hangout after Tarok discovered it a year ago. Sheltered by huge unpruned canopies that no longer bore much fruit, the kids could be as loud as they wanted with no parents being any the wiser.

And sure enough, as Moussa entered the woods, faint yells and cackles reached his ears The path was barely visible beneath cumulative years of fallen leaves, but he knew where he was going, and expertly dodged low-hanging branches and high-reaching roots. This was the only place he felt comfortable use his centaurine form without judgement. His sire in particular hated when he took on unconventional or 'unstructured' shapes. But to Moussa, unstructured shifting was synonymous with freedom. That was not to say he didn't shift at random back in town, but that was always a willful act of rebellion. Out here, he was just being himself.

◇○◇○◇○◇

Soon he saw the usual gang: Tarok, a dun stallion, and Flori, a flaxen mare, fighting as horses, while two humans - Nadica and Vahide - egged them on and took bets. Their shrill whinnies were pure animal excitement, with not even a hint of horsetongue. Hooves flashed as they grappled each other with their front legs, their hind legs kicking up dead leaves and dust in the setting sun.

Moussa looked past them. Sitting in a ring of tree stumps, passing around a flask of something amidst a heated discussion, was Edessa, Tapio, and Torian... and Zélie. Moussa's face cracked into a huge grin.

"Hey guys!" he yelled, struggling to be heard over the noise of fighting horses and cheering humans.

"Moussa!" Zélie yelled back. The rest of the gang looked up and muttered, cheered, or groaned their various greetings.

He crossed the clearing, jumping to avoid an accidental hoof to the face, and instinctively kicked at the two sparring horses. But it was all in good fun and his kick didn't connect.

He didn't want to transform into human (a part of him enjoyed the mix of fascination, aversion, and envy that the humans tried not to show at his half-horse form), so he stayed four-legged from the waist down, even as he came to rest with the humans. They all pretended to pay him no mind, but he was sure he caught a stolen glance or two at his horse half.

He laid down in the dirt next to Zélie and rested his head on her shoulder. She hugged him tight and passed the flask, which he gratefully to a swig from. It burned his throat and he loved it.

He passed the flask to Edessa, who was sat to his left, and so it went until they'd emptied every last drop.

◇○◇○◇○◇

The discussion continued on through the afternoon and eve, covering every flavor of insular small-town drama imaginable - mostly who slept with who, who was willing to sell alcohol, and how their first juvenile attempt at bootlegging was coming along.

Moussa didn't have much to contribute. As a noble, his eventual marriage would be arranged. His sire and dam kept him secluded from commoners with a mix of political meetings and menial tasks (the letter suddenly weighed heavy in his pouch... but it could wait). He couldn't sleep around or get any good gossip. All he could bring to their gatherings was the occasional stolen drink or snack from his hearth's pantry. But the others didn't seem to mind. They let him sit with them, and that was all he ever wanted.

They were eventually joined by the last four kids. The two hrihriwa had turned human and were busy cleaning up their scrapes and rubbing their bruises.

Tarok and Flori's wrestling match had ended with the dun on the ground, pinned beneath the flaxen. Vahide was still grumbling about losing his bet when the sun sank below the horizon and they lit their lanterns.

They daren't light a fire, no matter how secluded their grove was. A lantern could be extinguished far quicker than a fire.

With the soft light and their softer mumblings, only occasionally broken up by laughter, and with the moonshine running through his veins, Moussa lost track of the conversation. A thrush sang its eerie dusk song somewhere in the distance and the warm, comfortable buzz grabbed a hold of his head. He drank in the smell of Zélie's dark curls, peeking out from under her headscarf. Before he knew what he was doing, his lips met her neck, and planted a kiss on that pretty little birthmark he always longed to caress.

She stiffened and pulled back. But discreetly, not unkindly.

Moussa was about to insist on his affections, before he caught himself and looked around. Had the others noticed?

It didn't seem so.

He glanced at Zélie who refused to meet his gaze. But he thought he saw her blush. Or was it just the alcohol flushing her cheeks?

He shifted around a bit as his lower half gave way to human legs, and he scooted up next to her, resting his head in his hand instead of on her.

The others had definitely noticed that him and Zélie were close, and that long ago. A hrihriwa noble and a human farmer. It made no sense. But as long as no one saw truly how close they were, no one could fault them. Friends hugged. Friends went on walks together and hung out alone. Friendship was allowed. It's not like they were braiding flowers in each other's hair and eloping on new moons.

Speaking of the moon... Moussa looked up at the sky. There was a sliver of greenish blue light left where the sun had gone to rest, but it would be totally dark within the hour. The moon had already risen.

"We should go back," he said, interrupting everyone. The conversation halted as they took a second to absorb how dark it'd gotten, then it picked back up (with a few groans of annoyance), as one by one they all rose; three hrihriwa and six humans.

Moussa turned to Zélie. "Do you want a ride back?" It was comical of him to ask her like this, as she was half a head taller and significantly broader than him, but he would have no problem carrying her in his horse form.

Zélie finally looked him in the eye, then lowered her voice. "Let's hang back a bit. I need to talk to you."

Moussa's stomach dropped and his ears pinned flat against his skull.

"Don't be so alarmed. You look like a mouse who spotted a cat." But she smiled as she said it and he relaxed a little.

Tarok was the last to leave. "Aren't you coming?" he asked.

Moussa shook his head and was about to say something when Zélie opened her mouth. "Not yet. Someone's gotta clean up, right?"

"Yeah," Tarok said, but there was a strange note in his voice. "Well. Smell ya later." And with that, he turned horse and cantered away.

"Do you think he's onto us?" Zélie mumbled when Tarok was out of earshot.

Moussa shrugged.

"Eh, he's harmless. His hearth is loyal to the Hessado, he can't raise a finger against me. And anyways, I've known him since we were foals."

"Moussa, I don't think you're taking this seriously. Our friendship, our..." She lowered her voice from a hiss to a barely audible whisper. "Our courting."

"Our courting," he just repeated with a dreamy note in his voice. But then he shook his head, as if to shake out his intoxication, and took her hands in his. "Zélie, my flower, when I become Grand Lord I will rewrite our laws for you."

She blushed and her hard expression faltered for just a second. But then it was back, cold as stone, and she ripped her hands free. "But you're not Grand Lord, you're just a noble brat with your head in the clouds. And this isn't even about laws. It's deeper than laws. The will of the Sun, remember?"

Oh yes, he remembered.

He turned from her, suddenly sullen.

"We're just fooling around. The Sun has never forbidden that. Courtship doesn't mean mating." He sat down, his back to her, and tore apart a wilted leaf just to occupy his hands.

Zélie read between the lines better than he would've liked. Their laws forbade interspecies courtship. Their gods forbade interspecies mating. "You don't agree with our gods." It was a statement, not a question.

"I never said that..." But he might as well have. Courtship, mating, whatever he said, it was clear he felt that one should follow the other. He could keep no secrets from his lover.

There was silence for a moment. A loaded pause as he mustered up the courage to speak his mind. He hoped she didn't hear the crack in his voice.

"How can our gods forbid love?"

Zélie was by his side in an instant, a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Oh Moussa, you already know. It's for our own protection. If the hrihriwa lost their powers, our people would be doomed."

Heresy sat at the tip of Moussa's tongue, threatening to burst out. But he held it. He knew he could tell Zélie everything, but some things were easier to bear if not spoken aloud.

Still, it ate at him.

He gently shook off her hand, rose, and changed into horse.

"The offer is still on, if you don't wanna walk all the way home."

"Thanks."

◇○◇○◇○◇

Her weight on his back was familiar. He felt every shift of her body, the way she held onto his mane and steadied herself on his withers. Her smell, her warmth. Every twitch of her thigh muscles holding onto him. They were in no hurry, thought the should've been.

They had to go through dense growth to reach the main path, and she ducked down to avoid low-hanging branches. Her anger was evaporating fast, and as she embraced Moussa's neck, she couldn't help herself.

She stroked his fur, lightly at first, but then rougher. Reaching for his chest, her strokes became more of a massage, and Moussa hummed in pleasure.

"I still like you," she whispered in his ear. "And I don't want to stop courting."

"I know," he sad.

Before the reached the path, he stopped. She didn't, but kept on petting him.

His neck stretched out, giving way to a human torso, and what had been his horse chest was now his abdomen, dangerously close to where his crotch could've been. Her strokes lightened, but didn't relent, becoming a soft tickle that made Moussa's entire body buzz.

He regretted wearing tight clothes. His shirt, which had been tucked into his pants, was currently fused with his horsehide and couldn't be freed unless Zélie got off his back and let him turn fully human. Had he worn a looser tunic or shorter shirt, this might not have been a problem.

But Zélie kept stroking him, teasing him, almost as if she knew she'd trapped him and liked watching him squirm.

Moussa reached back, grabbing her head roughly, and kissed her. It was awkward and their teeth knocked together. But he couldn't just stand there, unreciprocating, while she teased him.

Zélie broke the kiss and slid off his back. He felt her hand on his rump, and a tingle went through his entire body.

"Someone's excited," she snorted.

"Please..." Moussa's face flushed and he side-stepped away from her, immediately turning human. He hadn't meant for her to see that.

"No mating," she said seriously.

"No mating," he confirmed.

Zélie crossed the distance, took his face in her hands and kissed deeply. Moussa broke the kiss just long enough to whisper "you're beautiful."

The heavy petting went on until darkness fell, but like the good kids they were, they never went further. It would've been sacrilege. The clergy had made it clear: hrihriwa should stay with hrihriwa, or the gods would take away their powers as punishment.

◇○◇○◇○◇

As they continued down the path, back to town (Zélie once again on his back), Moussa's thoughts drifted.

Everything could be traced back to the first hrihriwa, who were created when the goddess Eenestra brought a foal and an infant to the Sun and the Sun melted them, molding them into a holy, perfectly balanced, union of human and horse. In return, the hrihriwa had vowed not to tip the scales in favor of either side, by always shapeshifting and only mating with other shapeshifters.

But Moussa had his doubts.

They had many other tenets - other than forbidding interspecies love. Never harvest after sunset. Raise and lower the great seal on the Sun Temple every day. Never stay out on full moons. Don't cut your hair. Hair was the only thing that didn't seem to chance between human and horse form and, according to their clergy, cutting it could irreversibly damage (or outright take away) your ability to shapeshift.

But Moussa had cut his own hair once. As an experiment. A single lock, hidden under his fluffy auburn mane.

He didn't really know why he had done it. Boredom? Curiosity? The careless experimentation of someone who has otherwise no control of their life? Whatever the case, nothing had happened - except that a tiny seed of doubt had taken root in his heart.

Soon enough Zélie's farm came into view. She slid off Moussa's back and he turned fully human.

He wasn't sure if Zélie would understand. He knew Tarok wouldn't understand him. And he wasn't close enough with any of the others. But it was a burden to carry around this secret.

◇○◇○◇○◇

"Zélie, I... There's something I need to tell you. Tomorrow."

She frowned. "My dad is away from sunrise to midday. You can stop by then if you want."

[chrimsone]

Here is my recommendation for a name site :3c

as I am the type to allude where I can, I like to pick out names by meaning. This one has a pretty comprehensive list, with user submitted names too if you're unlucky

The final stage of every OC's creation is having to go through websites like this to name it:

[trilliumprince]

save me fantasynamegenerators.com saveme

[goodmode]

a silly Springhole generator prompt mashup challenge i did with a friend at a café last month

Random Teen: rambunctious teen boy, wants to be a mechanic

Horror Creep: ghost cowboy, distorted arms. witnesses die of "mysterious symptoms"

he will fix your carburetor. and if you don't have one, Now You Do :)

[144]

adding "roleplaying meta section" to my neocities plans cause i have so many thoughts

i do have a lot of thoughts about roleplaying... playing pretend was my fav thing as a kid which is telling. when i learned abt online roleplaying i just never ended up stopping. i get demotivated doing creative stuff by myself, but still want to make it, so it helps a lot to have a group of people doing it alongside you

its genuinely saved me cause for a while i was intensely depressed and borderline suicidal. what kept me going was talking to my friend about a storyline we were planning for the rest of our friend group and the little scenes we wrote together of some characters interacting :')

[dagbert-endless]

with all due disrespect (which is all of it), I hate art I I hate art I hate art I hate art I hate art I hate art I hate art I hate art I hate art I hate art I hate art I hate art I hate art I hate art I hate art I hate art I hate art I hate art I hate art!!!!! So here's my ocs but woe, picrews be upon ye

For context, the story is that these 5 were all at the same endowed school (St. Claire's) until one of them transferred to Bloor's in the 4th book.

In order from CotRK OC I made first to newest OC:

link to picrew

Starting with Tanya! Her endowment was to feel other people's emotions, which was toooootally not a ripoff of Gabe's lmfao. So I used the Springhole Superpower Generator and now her endowment is that she can detect when someone is (intentionally) lying. It's not the best power, but there's worse coming up so she's pretty mid as an ally.

Tanya is a basic bitch. She's a cheerful girl and incredibly fucking stupid, but also incredibly fucking optimistic.

At 12, Tanya's the youngest endowed at St. Claire's but average at Bloor's.

Tanya is one of two Good kids, so between this and her age she isn't close friends with any of the other ocs. She looks up to Annie, but Annie isn't interested in a twerp like her.

If Tanya moved to the King's city, it would be because her parents divorced and she followed her mom when she moved away. At Bloor's, she'd be in Drama but wouldn't be very good at it.

Tanya's impact on the canon story would be the most minimal. She'd get along well with the other Good kids, but lacks the power to change anything to come.

link to picrew

Second oc is Isadore. I made him when I was a kid and thought you could use moonlight to start fires the way you can with sunlight, so his endowment was manipulating moonlight and he used that to set stuff on fire. By 2020 I knew you could not actually do that. Instead, I opted to keep the endowment of "moonlight manipulation" but he starts fires the way any other person would, with matches.

Today, Isadore... isn't much different to his 2020 counterpart. The general idea behind his endowment is that it's actually pretty lame. He glows and at night he can move moonlight like it's something physical to wave around like a flashlight. His only use is saving the money on buying a real flashlight.

He is extremely nocturnal, and in the daytime he's always falling asleep somewhere. At St. Claire's, he is failing his classes and relies on his friends to keep him educated enough to not get held back (it is not working). At night, he stops feeling so drowsy and can actually Do Things. Unfortunately, most of the other kids are sleeping. One stays up late and one wakes up early to hang out with him, otherwise he misses out on most of what goes on between the endowed.

If Isadore transferred to Bloor's, it would be after he failed his entire grade and his parents decide to throw him in a different school as a weak attempt to fix it. At Bloor's, he'd be in Art. He'd be a decent artist, but only when he can do the project at night and turn it in the next morning. Otherwise, his paintings are all aimless squiggles where he passed out and let the paintbrush roll away.

Isadore's impact on the canon story would also be pretty minimal. He'd sit with the Evil endowed but not get to hang out with any of them very often.

no picrew link because I forced myself to draw this and I'm not wasting all the time I spent to not post it

This is Garnet. He's an oc that I revamped in 2020 to be a CotRK oc, but he wasn't originally a CotRK oc. So he was fandomless -> CotRK -> fandomless -> CotRK.

Garnet's the ""leader"" of the evil endowed at St. Claire's, in that he's one starting most of the beef and telling the other four what to do. His beef with the good kids is part them foiling his plots and part personal beef with one of the good kids not in this post.

Garnet's a shapeshifter. Because he needs to eat more to have the energy to shift (idea "stolen" from B lmao) + he stays up late, he doesn't often do much actual shifting. He can, but it's taxing the more he does it.

Garnet's family has an interest in "collecting" magical objects, and have been for many years. None of the kids are allowed to use any of them until they graduate school, so Garnet doesn't get access to them at any point.

A moderate amount of conflict, at either school, comes from Garnet deciding to steal from other people and the good side putting a stop to it.

If Garnet transferred to Bloor's, it'd be because his parents dragged him to the city while hunting for something mystical and probably not real. His parents only send him to Bloor's because of their Drama department; Garnet's siblings all go to normal school.

Of all my ocs, Garnet would have the biggest impact on the story. He'd be an antagonistic klepto whose shifting powers aid the Bloors well. Despite it, evil would still lose and his family would leave after the final battle.

Picrew link

Moving on to OCs I created just this year in a previous failed attempt to make CotRK ocs from scratch, it's Aneira (Ann/Annie for short).

Her endowment is control over ice, snow, and cold.

Annie and Azalea used to be girlfriends, and I'll elaborate on that later, but Annie is still bitter about the breakup and often targets both Aza and anyone Aza dates.

Unlike Garnet and Finley, Annie doesn't care about Isadore enough to stay awake to talk to him. She's a snob about endowments, if you don't have a powerful one she isn't interested in you at all. As a result, whichever side has the greatest amount of "impressive" endowments is the one she sides with. At both schools, it's the evil side.

If Annie moved to the City, it'd be because her parents found a nicer home their current one (probably in the Heights) and they moved. She would be in Music and be decent at it.

Her impact on the story would be minimal, though it's likely she'd delay things with a heavy blizzard or two if she got pissed enough.

by this point I'm sick of picrew so here's a quick shitty doodle from like May

Last but not least, Azalea.

This roll gave Aza her powers, but tbh talking about her with B is how she got fleshed out.

Azalea is a good kid. She's never killed anyone and doesn't wish to. If need be, she'll drain energy until someone passes out, but she won't hurt them.

Her endowment works by touch, and as a result she covers most of her body in clothing. Annie's the kind of girlfriend that clings like your tongue to ice, so it infuriated her that she couldn't kiss Aza for very long before getting drowsy, that she couldn't hold Aza's hand without someone wearing gloves, etc and she initiated the breakup.

Aza dresses like an edgelord, but she's really just a poser. She's quite nice and kindhearted and firmly on the good side.

If Aza moved to the City, it'd be because one of her parents had to relocate for their job. At Bloor's, she'd be in Music but only kinda meh at it.

She'd help the good side as much as she could, but ultimately nothing changes too drastically.

[lets-make-a-thing]

important poll

hello internet traveller.

the Very Important Poll™ is below.*

before we continue expanding this project... our world needs a name.

(Please read the options carefully before voting!)

[1] LETTER CHAIN -- Generate a number from 1 to 12. Whatever number it picks is the number of letters in the name. Then generate up to 10 random letters and put them in each poll for 12 polls, 3 polls posted each day. Kinda like a letter chain. Then we take the top 3 of each polls and do a tourney vote on whichever sounds coolest.

[2] NAME GENERATOR -- Generating names on sites such as "Fantasynamegenerators", "ChaoticShiny" or "Springhole". Then we do a tourney vote on whichever sounds coolest.

[3] ADMIN'S SUGGESTIONS -- Admin (that's me!) thinks up of some names, then we do a tourney vote on whichever sounds coolest.

*not actually trademarked

[archangeltwins]

going into my e-mail drafts and having to delete 90% of my favorite random generator links because the webpages are 404'd

seventh sanctum, springhole, mithrilandmages, fantasynamegenerators, unorthodox creativity, donjon, generatorland, my absolute beloveds

[bmpmp3]

random AI nonsense clogging up the search engines when im trying to look up random generators is getting pretty wretched. i am NOT looking for garbled unsupervised machine learning image or text generators IM LOOKING for those perchance ass generatorland ass seventh sanctum ass springhole ass dice rolling on a bunch of preset tables to fill in a madlibs style sentence ass character generators. a character generator i can TRUST

[roguemonsterfucker]

Koa Inkvoss, a nonbinary writer. They have some success with a series of YA novels and articles about being queer in places like Medium. One of my OCs. They have very severe social anxiety and ended up in Situation Where They Got Killed because they are also very lonely and decided to be brave For Once. Yes they are modelled a lot after myself. I do not mind if you kill them because they will continue to exist and thrive elsewhere, I am just lending you an AU version of them. And I like you so I do not mind dictating that you can modify OCs for brief appearances where they then die. Appearance wise they wear reading glasses on a colorful chain, colorful and eccentric clothes that blend masculine and feminine elements, and they dye their short hair different colors based on their mood. They/them pronouns.

Another one is Gunther Secro. He's in college to become an anthropologist. It is not as cool or exciting as Indiana Jones makes it out to be, which is slightly disappointing for him, but he still loves history and doesn't mind long, hard, boring, dirty work. He's a bit overweight and has messy brown hair. He stammers when anxious but when he's talking about history he is very enthusiastic and confident! He/him pronouns.

Anyway those are two, I hope they help. As I said above, Koa is an OC of mine, but I like your writing and think you are cool so I have no problem with saying "here, take this version of them and make it your own". Part of the reason I am so comfortable with that is cuz they WILL die, so have fun horrifying people with their death! I look forward to it. :) Gunther is just A Guy I Made Up. Use both, neither, or either one, I want you to not feel pressured!

Also there might be random character generators that can help you as well. fantasynamegenerators.com is one of my favorite websites for random gens of all kinds, and then Springhole ( springhole.net I believe) specifically has some nice character gens.

Thank you so much! I really appreciate this. 🥰

[ryvaling]

hey! this is chance & here’s this week’s prompt. what websites or resources do you use while you write or develop a character/story? what do you think of them and would you recommend them?

I don't use a lot of resources or websites. Mostly, I use the Joplin notes app to store all my worldbuilding-related notes. I also use Lexiconga for the dictionary of my conlang. Occasionally I use behindthename, wiktionary, and fantasynamegenerators for naming characters. Sometimes I read springhole, though I mostly just read it for funsies. The worldbuilding stackexchange is also a pretty good resource. I'd easily recommend Joplin and Lexiconga, they're very good.

[lurking-latinist]

In the unlikely event that you are trying to think of the third big random generator site and you've already tried Seventh Sanctum and Springhole, this is me here to tell you that it's in fact Chaotic Shiny.

Just thought this might be a useful PSA. For me. It's useful for me.