RolePlayer.me

B A S I C S Full Name: ➸ Ember Faye Aku Nickname(s)/Title(s): ➸ Em, faye Age: ➸ 21 Birthday: ➸ February 28th Gender: ➸ female(maybe she/they still experimenting) Sexuality: ➸ bi Species: ➸ human Ethnicity/Race: ➸ Caucasian Occupation: ➸ Singer/songwriter/actress A P P E A R A N C E Height: ➸ 5’10 Body Shape: ➸ she’s thin with a bit of curve Skin Tone: ➸ pale Hair Color: ➸ naturally blonde, but she dyes it whatever colour she wants Hair Length: ➸ doesn’t even pass her neck Eye Color: ➸ deep blue Freckles: ➸ all over her body Piercing(s): ➸ snake bites, septum, nose, industrial P E R S O N A L I T Y × Ember keeps to herself, often found writing or reading instead of interacting with others. × She is surprisingly humble, oftentimes declining any compliments and always donating to charities. × She hides a lot about herself from the media, scared that her mother may see something she doesn’t need to see. No matter how many new social media accounts Ember makes, her mother always finds it. M I S C Born from a celebrity mother, Ember lived in a life of luxury, but it wasn’t always a happy one. From a young age, she barely saw her mother, Arya Aku, and was cared for by a nanny. Arya really only kept Ember around to show her off, holding her for paparazzi and pictures before just handing her off again. Once she started to get older, her mother got the child an agent and landed her first acting job at the young age of six. She got little commercial gigs and soon got an audition for a popular children’s show. She worked her way up the ladder and soon stuck with a single entertainment company. As Ember grew older, Arya started to monitor the young girl’s calorie intake and weight. This caused the little actress to develop an eating disorder at just twelve years old. According to her mother, Ember needed to stay thin so she could get even more gigs. On top of all of this, the man directing her show, Mr David, started to act predatory towards her, often standing right behind the young woman and being a little handsy. Ember would try to tell people her director's behavior, but most just brushed it off as the kid being dramatic. The harassment from her director only got worse as she got older, soon turning into rape. By 13, Mr David had gotten the young girl pregnant and forced her to have an at home abortion that nearly killed her. All of these problems started to build up and build up with Ember having no way to let it all out, so to let out some of these emotions, Ember started to harm herself with cuts and burns. Once she finally got away from the director, Ember was sixteen and was starting to work on her music. She quickly got a record deal and was quickly rising in popularity. She would start going on tours at eighteen and would face even more sexual and physical harassment from older fans. Soon after the harassment, Ember’s self mutilating habits came back. She also developed an addiction to cigarettes during this time. After a few tours, she started to work in the horror/thriller film industry and once again became popular as a main character in a horror series.

B A S I C S Full Name: ➸ Jinx Layman Nickname(s)/Title(s): ➸ Lila(deadname) Age: ➸ 21 Birthday: ➸ October 17th Gender: ➸ female but goes by she/they Sexuality: ➸ pansexual Species: ➸ human Ethnicity/Race: ➸ Caucasian Occupation: ➸ bartender at her uncle's bar A P P E A R A N C E Height: ➸ 6' Weight: ➸ 250lbs Body Shape: ➸ curvy, a little chubby Skin Tone: ➸ pale Hair Color: ➸ black with the bangs dyed purple Hair Length: ➸ shoulder length Hair Thickness: ➸ decent thickness Hair Style: ➸ straight wolf cut Eye Color: ➸ purple Freckles: ➸ all over her body Piercing(s): ➸ industrial piercing, nipples, tongue, bellybutton, Three on each ear P E R S O N A L I T Y × She doesn't take anyone's sh*t. x She's outspoken, there's no way to shut them up about the problems in the world M I S C Ever since birth, it seemed like Jinx was well… jinxed. They were the younger and weaker twin between her and her brother Liam. She wasn’t fully developed and needed immediate hospitalization. As the two grew up, it became clear that Jinx was the least favorite, unwanted one. Probably because the shield reminded their mother, Sofia, of their supposed father’s brother, Jasper, the real father of the two kids. The twins were the result of an affair between Sofia and Jasper, which wouldn’t be allowed with Sofia being a hero and Jasper being a villain. As time went on, Jinx started to feel hatred towards Liam since they were perceived as the “female Liam” or as she got older “Liam but with pornstar tits”. Throughout secondary school, Liam’s friends would harass Jinx. One of them even had his way with Jinx, causing her to lose most respect for Liam since *he never tried to stop them*. Liam blamed Jinx for trying to ruin his friend’s reputation. Around 14, Jinx's parents, Ace and Sophia, decided they didn't want a disrespectful and terrible daughter anymore and kicked her out under the guise of her having weed. They lived on the streets for a few years. She was abused by other homeless people and criminals on the run, most of them using her for her body. She eventually was introduced to a pimp that went by the name Mizo. He found her stealing and told her that if she worked for him, he wouldn't report her, and she agreed. Jinx, by 15, became his top prostitute. While working for the pimp, she met Fatality(eventually Jinx's ex) and Havoc. They quickly became a great trio. Fatality was Mizo's weapon, curated to kill without being noticed. Havoc was Mizo's drug runner. During this time Jinx became an alcoholic and addicted to coke. She also committed little crimes. At one point, everything got to be too much for Jinx. All the sex work and abuse was getting to be too much. They would hurt themselves to deal with it at first but it stopped working. She found herself on the edge of a bridge, ready to jump and end it all. But Jasper found her and talked her down right before she jumped. He offered her a job and a place to live.

B A S I C S Full Name: ➸ Salem Connelly Nickname(s)/Title(s): ➸ Age: ➸ 16-21 Birthday: ➸ December 13th Gender: ➸ Female Sexuality: ➸ Lesbian Species: ➸ human Ethnicity/Race: ➸ Caucasian Occupation: ➸ student/fast food(if a minor) or college student/lounge singer(if adult) A P P E A R A N C E Height: ➸ 5'3" Weight: ➸ 125lbs Body Shape: ➸ slim with a bit of curve Skin Tone: ➸ pale Hair Color: ➸ black Hair Length: ➸ shoulder length Eye Color: ➸ blue Freckles: ➸ all over her body Piercing(s): ➸ none P E R S O N A L I T Y × Independent × Academic and nerdy × Sweet and a bit of a pushover M I S C Salem was born into a decent family. That was until her dad was laid off work and started to drink to pass the time. At first he'd have a few drinks during a football game or during dinner, but it was always enough to get him drunk. He was a pretty violent drunk and he was mad about his life. He didn't really want Salem, she was an accidental pregnancy. Over the years his abuse got worse and worse, Salem's mom was gone most of the time for work or to just completely avoid being home. Salem wasn't always abused, her dad took it out on his wife more. But eventually, when Salem was about nine, the abuse towards her grew more frequent. Eventually, when Salem turned 10, her mother got pregnant again. Another little girl named Willow. Salem never left Willow's side and when she was at school, she worried about the baby the whole time. She raised that poor baby and kept her safe from her father's abuse as the two got older. On Salem's 12th birthday, she had put Willow to sleep when she heard her parents fighting in the kitchen. She went to check on them and found her father waving around a knife, drunkenly trying to attack her mother. She jumped in and took the knife, getting hurt in the process. But her father was so damn determined to hurt Salem's mother that he went and got a gun from his gun cabinet and shot her right in front of Salem. He tried to shoot Salem too, only getting her in like the arm or something, nowhere fatale. From there, after Salem's dad was arrested, the two girls lived with their strict Catholic grandparents. Things were fine for a while, Salem was still raising Willow but she wasn't as worried about her while she was at school. Around 14 year old, Salem found out that she didn't like boys, but liked girls. She had a few relationships, but none of them lasted longer than a few months. When she turned 14, however, she had a relationship that got a little serious. The two were just innocently kissing, nothing more, and her grandma walked in. They were immediately kicked out and Salem had to find another home. She took Willow and left refusing to ever come back if they weren't going to love her for who she was.

B A S I C S Full Name: Kari Olsen Nickname(s)/Title(s): ➸ Princess Kari Age: ➸ 18 Birthday: ➸ December 20th Birthplace: ➸ Almora Kingdom Gender: ➸ female Sexuality: ➸ bi Species: ➸ pika hybrid Ethnicity/Race: ➸ White Occupation: ➸ princess, next in line to the throne A P P E A R A N C E Height: ➸ 4'11 Weight: ➸ 110lbs Body Shape: ➸ short. kinda has an hourglass figure Skin Tone: ➸ pale almost white as snow Skin Type: ➸ clear Hair Color: ➸ white Hair Length: ➸ just to the neck Hair Thickness: ➸ just right Hair Style: ➸ swooped over to the left, wavy hair Eye Color: ➸ right eye is Cerulean the left eye is red Freckles: ➸ only when she's in the sun for a long time Piercing(s): ➸ none P E R S O N A L I T Y × Kari is soft spoken and mostly to herself. She really only talks a lot around her brothers, but that doesn't mean she wont warm up to a person. x She is polite and loyal. It's how she was raised. She doesn't flaunt her royal status and she helps people stuck on the streets get a meal at least. × She can be distant at times. She tends to get caught up in reading or tending to the flowers in the garden. [IMG=5MV] M I S C She is the youngest of three kids. Because of that, she gets babied pretty often. Her mother hated hybrids. Whe. she saw that her daughter was one, she almost had her sent away. The oldest begged her not to, so instead she was forced to stay in her room. No one could know she wasn't human. While trapped in her room, her brothers and the servants took care of her until she was 7. Once she turned seven, she got a little more time alone. Her hobbies include pressing flowers, reading, and making lanterns.

#1: Not a hybrid but rather born from the depths of darkness, hence is the essence of his breed, Crusnik translates to “Monstrosity”!#2: The creature seems to express attraction towards both male and female beings.#3: A nocturnal creature. It is rare for him not to sleep all day.#4: Often chooses to eat fruit over vegetables. His favorite are strawberries.#5: Cars are foreign to him, he chooses motorcycles to ride instead, it's easier for him.#6: Prefers to hunt vampires and drink their blood to survive and sometimes he does this for pleasure.#7: He is as dangerous to immortals as much as he is attractive!#8: Has Bat type wings, sharp claws and vampire fangs making in a bit vampiric in nature.#9: Never provoke the Crusnik he will see it as a threat to his existence and attack with feircesome intensity.#10: Doesn't take too kindly to other hunters who want to kill him. Beware!

GENERAL~NAME: MichaelMIDDLE: --LAST: StormholdNAME USED: Mick StormholdNICKNAME{S}: Mikey. Mickey. M. Ocean Eyes. AGE: 10,000 yrs / APPEARANCE: 21-25 yrsDOB: Winter SeasonSIGN: Might be a ScorpioRACE: CrusnikSEX: MalePOSITION: SwitchORIENTATION: BisexualPROFESSION: Hunter/Preditor.EYE COLOR: Crimson~Can change to ocean blue at will.HAIR COLOR: Dark BrownLENGTH: Little past shoulder lengthHEIGHT: 5'11"WEIGHT: 180lbsBODY: Lean. Toned. Muscular.SKIN TONE: Ivory/FairBIRTHMARK: None.TATTOOS/PIERCINGS: Yes/Yes 

September 18 2016     The sound of an owl up in the tree, Roman looked up , only to be distracked by the stars that were shinning. Stars always amazed him, tiny little things that twinkled, he sometimes wished he could be like one of them stars. In another place another world somewhere that made sence to him. Because he had struggled ever since he came out of hospital to understand who he was, and where he stood in this life, he didnt feel it get any better. He tried to talk to councilers but he found it hard to really find the right words, to explain to a stranger how he felt about losing his memories his child hood his own thoughts his own past scars. His feelings, his friends his family, they all felt like someone else's maybe they were, maybe they would never be his again. -- The thoughts were to hard sometiimes they consumed his mind. he was scared if he stayed here with the family he didnt know then he would lose himself all over again-    "i wish i was like Roman i wish i could just forget the things that had happend to me imagine that Julia your boy is the lucky one" -He heard his uncle in the distance the wind was travling so he could hear all they were saying as he sat at the bottom of the garden next to his brothers tree, the family were in the house but the door was open, of course they had way to much to drink. But hearing things like that shattered Roman, How could they posisbly understand the struggles he has with his past, how can they get it, the truth is they wont get it not unles something like that happens to them,. he wanted to shout and scream and tell them how he really felt. But instead he grabbed his guiatr, attempted to un stiffen  his hand , a little as he still struggled with his arms, sometimes. after the crash, his body is still healing. He hadnt realised, that his parents had seen his figure here, and they had made their way down towards him-   "Sometimes it feels like there is this ache in my heart and you are the only one who gets me" he mumbled to his brothers tree, Once more he gently strummbed on his guitar and began to sing- "I will sing it one last time for you, then we really have to go, you have been the only things that right in all i have done .. and i can barly look at you .. but every single time i do i know we will make it anywhere away from here. light up light, as if you have a choice even if you can not hear my voice i will be right beside you dear" Music had always been Roman's safe place when he was struggling in life, it was like he would just pick up his guitar and he would be okay. The past few years he had to go back to basics to learn everything all over again., That was really frustating for him for a boy who needed music- "We think its your time to leave us, we think you need to get out there and find who you really are" His parents quickly said, which made Roman stop and put his guiatr down, realising that right now was going be the start of him finding himself again.    Leaving the only place he had ever known didnt hurt as much as he thought it would, saying bye to his family, yes it was hard but he knew he had to do it, He had come so far already with his life, re learning how to live, they years bewteen 2017 -- 2023 where soul searching on his first adventure, he had stumbled in to a small little village by accident, It was there he met his first frined, His friend being a dog called Megan. She was only 6 months old. He found her in the country road, with a lead on and a little bed next to her, her eyes drew him in, Roman knew that he coudn't just leave her there, so he took her in hand, and went to the nearest police station, -- Roman stayed in that little town just for a few weeks, to see if she would be clamied, as know one ever did, the policeman allowed him to take the puppy, as the pair had bonded so well.    As the years went by the pair traveled around together in his little beat up van. Bonded well. Roman began to take small fits sometimes, and Megan was the one that had grow to know when these fits would happen, She could warn and let him know, and when he got anxious she was very good at calming him down. Once he saw a Dr and had to go on tablets for the fits, as it turned out that he had devopled epilepsy, from the accident the fits calmed down. But Megan was always on guard with a helping paw to help him when life got to much for him. He wasnt sure if he would have manged a life like this if it wasnt for his little dog, as she is now 5 years old, their little bond is as close as ever.-    11th May 2024   You ever belive in the word serendipity? it means finding something unexpected. - or the quote In the blink of an eye, something happens by chance - when you least expect it - sets you on a course that you never planned, into a future you never imagined. - this one day this one town has changed Roman's life for good, A simple chance metting with a stranger, but not just a stranger, a stranger that he had felt he had known in a past life, He had never felt that intence feeling to this day-      Soulmate Serendipity maybe he is just home?   Deciding to leave the little town, he was in, he closed his eyes and placed his own finger on the map san diego! This is where it all started, he had been in the town for a couple off, weeks, and had rented a little house, deciding he needed to build his money up, he worked at the local night club,. just performing, and sometimes worked behind the bar, anything he could do really. But it was one busy night when he stumbled across this man. Who has the most besutiful brown eyes and eyelashes that Roman addicated. Really before he meet Benny, he had not thought about what sexuality he was, he wasnt sure he really knows to this day. But all he knew was the minute he saw that man, he never wanted to breathe without him by his side., It was the scariest thing he had ever felt, he still cant explin it, Maybe its just love it doesnt need to be explined-    They spent late at night on the beach talking. they spoke about everything and nothing at all. But it was when he laid his head on Bennys shoulder. and listend to the way he spoke about his family, the way his eyes light up, as they were bought in to a converstaion. The way he understood Roman in a way that know one ever had, He opened up to Benny more or less right away confiding his life to him. telling him his story, But the strange thing was, it didnt feel like meeting someone new, it felt more like re meeting an old friend, someone who he  had knwon before. The bond is something so deep that he can't imagine his life without him .. maybe that is his journey this his purpose maybe he had to leave his family, to find his new story his new life Him. Understanding what feelings are, feeling things for one soul, that he could never put in to words. "I feel like i can rest now .. i have found my home" 

https://recatalyst.org/4049/arts/what-you-missed-when-you-watched-saltburn/ https://medium.com/@ibtisaamahmed/the-symbolism-of-saltburn-that-you-probably-missed-32748741006c

01. Let's just get this out of the way now. Even though I consider Bill to be my main account.  I can not be online 24/7. I work a physically demanding job during the week and I care for two sick parents. Also I have a life away from this place. I will be here if time or muse hits. I don't like forcing out half handed starters or replies because of a time quota. If you can't be patient please delete me.02. I am a multi-para writer but known to dabble into novella territory when inspired to do so. Even though I do prefer to write in groups I will rp in comments. Messages are strictly for plotting. I do look over spelling and grammar errors due to my own imperfections.03. My version of Bill Compton is strictly based from the show True Blood. I have gone AU with in the sense that he's still the King of Louisiana and he had ended up taking the cure for Hep V. So no he didn't die in the finale, obviously. (Sorry if this is a spoiler.)04. I will say this now I am a grown man well over the age of 21. That will be reflected in the themes I allow in my writing.  Especially since I write themes of gore, blood drinking, violence, adult language, romantic/sensual themes.  I will not RP minor writers. 05. At the time of this blog post. I am involved 3 RPGS - The Catacombs (Which I assist in co-own/help run), Infernal & The Book Of Dreams (which I help admin in).  My priorities to these three groups will come before anything. That doesn't mean I won't rp with people outside of these groups, it just means the needs of the group will come first. If this a problem by all means, unfriend me. 06. Just to nip this in the bud.  Yes I am going to be multi-li or multi-ship here. Does that mean I'm gonna go to poundtown with every female on my page. No. It means if chemistry hits. I will allow more than one LI connection. I don't tolerate jealously. I keep all SLs separate.Now that being said, in real life I am involved with someone who does write on site. I have been for two years and I'm happily in love with this person. Just because I multi-li on Bill doesn't mean I'm open to OOC stuff too. If you blur the line of RP and reality, I will end our pairing and you will be contacted by my very pissed off girlfriend. 07. So I am not one to stick to their own verse. I just find it very restrictive. I will do crossovers as I love them. Verses I am particular keen to rp are within supernatural, sci-fi, fantasy and comic book realm but I'll add anyone as long as its plausiable to rp together. 08. Above all else please have fun and keep this place positive this is my most important rule. I do not like toxicity, bullying or negativity of any kind. If you're not here to write and keep things pleasant then I don't want you on my page.TO ENSURE THESE RULES HAVE BEEN READ. SIGN WITH YOUR NAME OF YOUR MUSE AND A GIF OF THEM OR THE ACTOR/ACTRESS YOU ARE USING. 

Hey what's a God without rules? I have them. They're pretty simple and I'm not picky about them much anymore cause nobody seems to follow them, but please, do your best to do so. In any case, here's a few things to know about my Chuck. Multi-para plus writer. This is obvious. I don't waste my time if your a one liner or paragraph writer only. I don't mind para writing for banter, but for an actually story, please do more then three paragraphs or more for your comment. Spelling and grammer is a must to know. Mature themes. All of my writing will have nc/17 plus themes. If you can't handle it, consider this your trigger warning now. Anything that happens in the show Supernatural will happen in my writing, so I suggest you watch that show for a good idea of how dark things can get.  Crossovers: I can fit Chuck into pretty much ANY universe. He's God after all and pretty much every universe has some version of a God, he can even change his appearance to fit into said universe. Say in Harry Potter, Chuck could be a Slytherin student or professor, in Star Wars? A Jedi Master, so on and so fourth. Just come up with a good storyline and anything is possible. Inactivity: I really don't give a crap if people are inactive around here. I'll never be one to delete someone for not responding right away. I get it, we all have lives and sometimes sh*t happens. This is an escape from real life and not meant to be stressful or taken too seriously. So, if you're one of those people who are very demanding and want a response right away, please delete me now, because you won't like waiting for me to respond and I won't like you sending me fifty thousand messages asking me to respond. I'm a busy God. How I write Chuck: Glad you asked. I can write him for whatever the storyline requires of me. Good God, bad God, two different Gods. Prophet Chuck, just a writer. Anything. I don't mind. I never liked the final season of Supernatural though and would like to rewrite that if I could. So please, let's forget that ever happened. Love Interests: Romantic interests? Chuck dates, yeah. He may flirt and want to do other things while he's pretending to be human. But, I think I will keep Chuck a one love interest for his account type of deal if that happens. Plus, it has to be a good story for us to be romantic interests. Something that will go somewhere and that's not just mindless sex, as fun as that is. I feel like multi-love interest people use that as an excuse to cheat on their current love interest or not satsified by just one writing partner and want to sleep around with more. That's just my opinion though, to each their own. Please no out of character drama. We don't need high school sh*t here, we'reall adults. Please act like one and treat others the way you'd like to be treated in real life.  Don't be a d*ck. This kind of goes with rule number 7, just don't do it. It's not cool. OF COURSE I LOVE BANTER PLEASE SEND ME AN INTRO WITH BANTER AND AN OOC MESSAGE AND I'LL RESPOND! No random comments. We plot first, then write out something after. We can even do a crappy storyline, Chuck's known for those! Just send me a message, I promise I won't smite you, yet. Thanks for reading! I hope those weren't that difficult. You can sign below if you want. USE YOUR JOHN HANC*CK TO DO SO! These are my ten crappy commandments. Hope to hear from you soon! Happy writing.    

It was a quiet evening at the West household. Hunter had just gotten home from another grueling day of practice with Ophelia. As he trudged into the living room, still catching his breath, his parents looked up from their respective books. "Hey champ, how'd it go today?" his dad Michael asked, offering a warm smile. Hunter opened his mouth to respond, but then paused, a new realization seeming to dawn across his features. He furrowed his brow pensively as he replayed a particular interaction between him and Ophelia from earlier. The way her hair fell across her face as they nailed that final spin...how her laugh made his heart flutter...the reassuring squeeze of her hand in his as they took their bows. "You know..." Hunter began slowly, choosing his words carefully. "Ophelia and I have been partners for what, over a decade now? Since we were just kids messing around at the local rink." His mom Evelyn nodded, sharing a knowing glance with Michael. "That's right, dear. You two have grown up together on that ice, chasing your dreams side-by-side." "Right. And obviously our connection and chemistry has always been...special, you know?" Hunter continued, pointedly avoiding his parents' amused expressions. "She's my best friend. The person who knows me better than anyone in this world." He exhaled heavily, mentally working up the nerve to finally voice the thought that had been swirling more and more frequently. "What I'm trying to say is...I think..." Hunter faltered momentarily before barreling forward with the confession. "I think I might be in love with Ophelia." The words hung in the air for a beat before his parents began chuckling in unison. Hunter's brow furrowed in confusion and slight indignation at their reaction. "What? What's so funny?" he asked defensively. Evelyn shook her head with a warm smile. "Oh honey, we're not laughing at you. It's just..." She glanced at Michael, who was still wheezing with laughter, before finishing her thought. "Congratulations on being the last one to finally realize what everyone else has seen for years, sweetie."

The amber liquid burned Hunter's throat as he drained another glass, seeking that familiar solace at the bottom of every bottle. The dingy bar blurred around him, a safe haven to escape the endless cycle spinning through his mind - memories of that fateful day constantly on rewind, replaying each agonizing second when a flawless routine shattered into shards of regret. Stumbling out into the harsh chill of the night air, reality slapped him once again - he'd done it again, let the guilt and shame fester until the only relief was surrendering to the oblivion of drunken numbness. Each bender chipped away another piece of the man he used to be, the fearless artist who danced across the ice with effortless passion and joy. But tonight was different. Ophelia's tear-stained face flooded his memory, her trembling voice crackling like the dying embers he felt mirrored in his soul, "I can't keep watching you self-destruct like this, Hunter. You're killing yourself...and us in the process. Please, you have to get help...for both of us." Her raw, achingly vulnerable pleas lodged in his chest like shrapnel tearing through skin. For years, he'd desperately clung to the idea that she could never see the true depths he'd plunged - that by some miracle her love would remain untainted by his spiral. But now, staring at the shattered reflection in a puddle, Hunter understood with searing clarity that his reckless alcoholism wasn't just poisoning his own life - it was slowly strangling the last precious threads keeping their bond alive after so many years of harbored trauma, regret, and unspoken feelings frozen in time. He crumpled to his knees on the unforgiving pavement, gasping for air as if the weight of a thousand lives lost pressed down on his fragile frame. Ophelia's love, her gentleness, her spirit - it had been his sole constant liferaft in the turbulent sea of self-loathing and doubt constantly battering his psyche. And now, the gutting truth revealed itself - he was staring into the deep abyss of losing her forever to the all-consuming darkness rapidly unraveling the semblance of life he still clung to. This was his reckoning, his cosmic wake-up call forcing him to confront the demons that had mercilessly tormented him for far too long. Tonight, as the frigid air burned his lungs, a sobering flicker of hope revealed itself - a chance to claw his way back from this brink, to rediscover the unbreakable strength and perseverance that had once bonded their souls so seamlessly for a decade across the ice. He would honor their journey, their dreams, their connection by beating this demon gnawing at his existence...or be utterly consumed by it. There would be no more running, no more numbing the pain with a temporary antidote that only poisoned him further. It was time to fight, to reclaim the fearless fire that had been his lifeblood, the spark that had set their passionate routines ablaze in front of arenas full of awestruck fans. Summoning every ounce of fortitude still lingering in his shattered spirit, Hunter vowed to purge the inner self-loathing toxin before it bled him dry for good. He would face down each waking nightmare, endure every anguished memory, embrace the overwhelming tides of guilt - and emerge from the tempest reborn and whole once more. If not for himself, he would do it for her: the other half of his soul, now standing on the other side of the yawning chasm, hand outstretched with love and belief in the man he could still be.

Here are five times Hunter almost texted Ophelia: It was late one night as Hunter nursed a glass of whiskey, memories of Ophelia's smile and infectious laugh replaying in his mind. His thumb hovered over her contact, ready to confess how much he missed her. But he stopped himself, convincing his heart it was for the best to let her go. After an intense sparring session at the gym, Hunter caught his reflection in the mirror - sweaty, muscles rippling. He smirked, picturing Ophelia's reaction if he sent her a flirty selfie with "Missing this?" as the caption. His fingers twitched towards his phone before hesitation kicked in. Ophelia's favorite band was playing in town, and for a split second, Hunter's fingers began typing out "Two tickets for old time's sake?" He could already envision her delighted smile. But then reality hit - they were over, and opening that door again risked further heartbreak. It was a crisp autumn evening when Hunter walked past the ice cream shop where he'd taken Ophelia on some of their first dates. Unbidden, his phone appeared in his palm as he started to joke "Feeling nostalgic for those double-scoop sugar highs..." He stopped, throat tightening. Hunter's finger lingered over Ophelia's contact info as he composed a message for the hundredth time: "I'm sorry. For everything." Regrets swirled in his mind, but he couldn't bring himself to hit send and risk reopening old wounds. The One Time: It was a quiet Tuesday evening when Hunter's phone lit up with Ophelia's name and picture. His breath caught in his throat as he fumbled to answer the FaceTime call with shaking hands. When her soft smile filled the screen, all his practiced speeches escaped him. "H...hey," was all he could manage as his heart thundered in his chest. Ophelia simply gazed at him for a loaded moment. "I miss you, Hunter," she finally murmured, voicing the words he could never quite say himself. And just like that, the door was open once more.

Another night, another bottle rapidly drained in a futile attempt to extinguish the eternal bonfire of shame and regret searing through Hunter’s soul. If he squeezed his eyes shut tightly enough, the room would spin and blur around him, transporting him back to happier times. He could practically hear the phantom roars of adoring crowds cheering their names, feel the electrifying rush of nailing their signature throw triple axel on hallowed ice. The high of pushing their bodies to the extremes and being universally revered as one of the greatest pairs teams of all time used to be Hunter’s unquenchable drug. Until that fateful night when Ophelia’s entire world shattered like the fragile ice beneath her blades. The sickening snap of her leg fracturing replayed on a searing loop in Hunter’s memory, no amount of whiskey potent enough to blot it out completely. All those years of tireless training and sacrifice, building an unbreakable bond and transcendent partnership - crushed in a single obliterating moment. The unrelenting guilt of being physically unscathed while his other half’s dreams imploded around them consumed Hunter. A mirthless, guttural chuckle emerged from the deepest recesses of his whiskey-ravaged throat as Hunter’s bloodshot eyes bored into his own disheveled, haunted reflection. Who was this pathetic, self-destructive shell of a man mocking him from the cracked mirror? Definitely not the fearless, unstoppable athlete who once owned the world alongside his vital other half. Down another burning gulp to blot out the memory…only for it to be immediately replaced by the cataclysmic sense of abject failure encircling him like a viscous, inescapable tar pit. All those years of sacrifice, of forsaking a normal childhood and teenage experiences, of pouring his entire existence into a craft - all obliterated in a single catastrophic moment. Staring down at the almost-empty bottle cradled in his trembling hands, Hunter felt a wave of revulsion roil through him. The proud, confident young dynamo who used to own the world from center ice was now just a hollow shadow mainlining misery and self-pity through the bottom of a glass. How had he plunged from the dizzying heights of being the best in the world at his art to this pathetic, unrecognizable nadir? The self-loathing chewed away at Hunter’s insides with increasing fervor until it felt like he might actually crack apart at the seams. The thought of his former skating partner’s name twisted the serrated dagger of shame and regret deeper into Hunter’s guts. Sweet, nurturing Ophelia had been the driving force keeping him upright after her career-ending accident. Her resilience and refusal to let the tragedy utterly derail them both was breathtaking. Hunter had been in hopeless awe of her strength even as he crumbled under the weight of crippling survivors’ guilt. But he’d predictably driven Ophelia away with his perpetual spiral of self-destruction and weakness, letting her down like he disappointed everyone who ever believed in their meteoric talents. Hunter could still see the crushed look in her warm, caring eyes the night she finally realized he couldn’t be the supportive partner she needed in return. She deserved so much better than his pitiful shell. The waves of self-loathing left Hunter desperately gasping for air, as if the weight of his cowardice and failures were physically suffocating him. So he raised the bottle to his lips and kept drinking - the bitter balm his only fleeting refuge from the oppressive crush of having to face the consequences of abandoning the light of his life in her darkest hours. If only he could go numb enough to block out the crushing magnification of how far he’d plummeted from the exalted throne of his former greatness. Then maybe Hunter could simply cease to exist altogether - the fate he’d convinced himself he deserved after disgracing his sport and surrendering to the demons slowly devouring him from the inside out.

La Dulzura del Hogar The Sweetness of Home www.roleplayer.me/1959615 The scents of sizzling chiles, warm tortillas, and freshly brewed cafécito greeted Benji like an embrace the second he stepped through the faded red door. This cozy little casa on Pepper Drive had been the unshakable centro of his childhood - the place where he was truly, unconditionally at home in a way nowhere else could replicate. "¡Ahí está mi chamaquito!" his Abuelita Rosario's melodious voice rang out from the tiny galley kitchen. Benji grinned, warmth suffusing his soul at the beloved childhood nickname only she called him. Crossing the living room in three long strides, he found his diminutive abuelita presiding over the battered old stove, her cloudlike mane of silver hair pulled into a low bun. "¡Abuelita!" Bending low, he scooped the delicate little woman into his arms for a fierce bearhug, breathing in her comforting fragrance of gardenias and freshly baked conchas. "Ay, mi vida," Rosario gasped out a wheezy laugh, returning his embrace just as fervently despite her small stature. She pulled back to cup his stubbly cheek in a weathered palm, warm brown eyes sparkling with boundless love. "You get more hugable each time I see you, mijo." Just then, a gruff harrumph sounded from the doorway. "If you're quite finished mauling my esposa, Benjamín?" Chuckling, Benji turned to face his Abuelito Tomás - still as ram-rod straight and tauter than a bowstring at eighty-five. His grandfather's ruggedly chiseled features and steely grey eyes were instantly recognizable as the genetic sculpting blocks passed to Benji and generations before them. Tomás's mouth twitched in that subtle smirk Benji had inherited as he enveloped his grandson in a bone-crushing abrazo. "It's good to see you, muchacho. Though maybe next time, just a visit instead of neglecting your poor abuelos for two months!" Benji accepted the teasing rebuke with a laugh, clapping his grandfather firmly on his wiry back. "Hey, you know the drill - I go wherever the waves call me next. This time it was Oaxaca." "Speaking of..." Rosario tsked, brandishing a well-worn spatula at him. "I have photos to add to la caja!" Warmth bloomed in Benji's chest at the mention of la caja - the beaten old cigar box Abuelita had been carefully filling with mementos, sketches, and candid snapshots of her only grandson's life of adventure since he was a boy. It was her pride and joy, always displayed prominently on the living room's scarred coffee table amongst the woven serapes and potted flora. Rosario's beatific gaze shone with a mother's radiant delight as Benji slid onto a cracked vinyl stool at the counter, shooting his grandfather an amused look and relishing a whiff of the cinnamon-laced hot chocolate brewing. This tiny, homey cocina was the sacred gathering place where Benji experienced love, community, and the warmest sense of belonging - all epitomized by the two indomitable pillars of their family presiding over simple rituals like nightly dinners and stories swapped over sobremesa. He may have inherited an adventurer's soul driving him to relentlessly seek new vistas. But engulfed in the timeless rhythms and devotion of this humble casa, Benji also recognized the priceless gifts from his abuelos' generation - the unshakable love of familia and the quiet dignity of honoring one's roots, no matter how far passion scattered those seeds into the winds of the world. This place was his verdadero hogar, the soul's harbor that would forever shelter and ground him between each new journey out amongst the tides of destiny. Short quote here.   template credit.