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𝕁𝕦𝕞𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕊𝕡𝕚𝕕𝕖

01/21/2022 08:01 PM 

Not Spider Boy

Name: Petra Benjamin Parker Chosen Name: Peter Benjamin ParkerNick Name(s): Tiger, Penis Parker, P**sy Parker, Web-Head, Kid (Give him some if you want)Age: 20+Gender: Trans MaleSex: FemaleSexual Orientation: PansexualRelationship status: SingleD.O.B: August 10th Species: HumanZodiac: Leo Height: 5'6 Weight: 165 lbsSkin color: Almond with freckles Hair: Short, fluffy and chocolateEyes: Dark brown Unique features: Small scars on his face hidden in his freckles. Habits- Over eating: Only when given the option he doesn't eat regularly so it's sporatic binging to stay on top of his weight and high motabolism Smoking: Never Spending Money: The boy gets an alowance of 20$ a week if anything he's budgeting and selling things off to get the extra things he needs. Gossiping: He does have a hard time keeping secrets. Lying: It's really easy to tell when he is or when he's just extremly uncertain of himself Drinking: Not really it goes through his system quick so it's at most a buzz Cheating: He cheated on a math test in middle school and cried all the way home after having a panic attack. Occupation: Currently enrolled at MIT and professional photography part time along with superhero stuff but that doesn't pay anything. Family: May Parker (Aunt May), Benjamin Parker (Uncle Ben), Friends: *looks at every universe he's been to* That's uh... hard to say?  


01/21/2022 08:16 PM 

)O( ~Kataryna's Bio~

With their Father killed by a thug for his modest paycheck, and their Mother supposedly ill with cancer, Kataryna Artyomov and her eleven-month-old sister Anastasia were left on the doorstep of a notorious orphanage, run by an innate Coven of Ved'ma. Anastasia was just under a year old, yet she held onto her big sister's chubby middle finger for comfort as if it were their mother's teet.The witches noticed a formidable strength in Kataryna from a young age, and while watching over both sisters, taught them Botany and Alchemy. Aiding the girls to master their most powerful spells and incantations, as well as opening up their minds and souls to all the wonders of the Universe.At seventeen, Kataryna was sent to the East Siberian highlands to train. Anastasia, becoming more focused on her craft, began helping the other orphans that crossed their Coven's threshold and eventually took her vows to ascend as Priestess of the Coven, should she prove herself worthy of the position.The Ved'ma believed that the women in their charge could decide if they wished to bear children as their lineage was fortified with strong, fertile maidens, welcoming in the strength of their Coven. Yet Kataryna was trained to be a killer. A mercenary.Unlike most mercenaries who were solely out for themselves, Kataryna was not. She was the soldier hired to serve. Part of a Coven of witches that were out to eliminate the world of the treacherous and tyrannical. Ridding the World of evil people was what she did best.With unparalleled fighting skills coupled with her mastery of Witchcraft, Kataryna was granted access to the ancestors. All of their strength and wisdom are at her disposal. However, her sacrifice to remain a virtuous maiden left her open to Earthly vulnerabilities. These vulnerabilities could be suppressed with proper spells and potions sachets which together with her focus and willpower, gave her back control. It was entirely at her own comment to decide if she wished to receive love and adoration.One apocalyptic moment changed everything for Kataryna and the sister she loved more than her own life. Kataryna was due to receive her high honors, setting on her journey back to the outskirts of St. Petersburg to see her sister for the first time in four years. Two days into Kataryna's travels, Anastasia was at the market buying essentials for her sister's return to the Coven. They hadn't celebrated something so significant in quite some time and Anastasia insisted it be perfect. When Kataryna returned to the only place she considered home, she was slapped with the most unthinkable horror. Her sister was gone.Slamming against the wall, she slid down, bringing her knees to her chest. Kataryna pulled out her phone and looked at the picture on the screen. From the moment she looked at the sparkling blue orbs staring back at her from the photograph, Kataryna vowed that she would bring her sister home......or die trying. 

- 𝘀𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗽𝗶𝗽𝗲𝗿

01/21/2022 07:57 PM 

it's about performance

The first time he had seen a Bard was at a gathering his father had organized. He was young, unable to remember exactly what age he was, but it wasn’t uncommon for his childhood home to play host to events that needed entertainment.The way the lute echoed through the large halls of the home, how he kept the attention of all that gathered around him. The stories, the lore, the excitement he fostered in a young Julian was electrifying. It took days to get the compositions out of his head, having committed them to memory in just a few hours the Bard was in his home. Vivid dreams followed him into his sleep every night for weeks, the clear ringing of the strings sparking the characters to come alive - he had never felt this way about anything he had encountered before, and it was exhilarating!It was impossible for him to think of anything else after. His eyes had been opened, a spark lit within him. His father, The Viscount of Lettenhove, wasn’t impressed with the new obsession of his only son; the one poised to take over his position upon his death. The arguments were numerous and usually loud, disturbing his poor mother as she tried to stay out of their affairs. They usually carried on for days on end, neither of them backing down on their side of the argument until they would both be put in their place by the lady of the house.When the day came for him to tell his family he was leaving to learn the arts at Oxenfurt, his mother wept and his father refused to look at him. The life that they wanted him to lead was not what called to him and that was the consequence he had to deal with. His father gave him an ultimatum; continue on this path with no financial support from his family or abandon such foolishness and continue to live in the life of luxury. Clearly, the Viscount did not count on his son’s determination to prove him wrong. The position of Viscount would be his birthright regardless of his choice, and Julian wanted to do what he wanted for the first time in his life. There were no sweet goodbyes or well-wishes from the Pankratz family to their son; just a slam of the door behind him as he left off on his new path.The first years in Oxenfurt were hard. Julian was always a rather outgoing personality and often started off on the wrong foot with the groups he tried to circle in. He had few acquaintances through his formative years, but none that he would consider friends or close allies. To say that he buried himself in his studies would have been an understatement; using the time he had from having no one else to waste it on to study all manners he could. It might have sounded like a lonely existence for a young man, but it had its benefits when it came to the fairer of the sexes. A talent for words and poetry, to say that he had his way with the women was an understatement - again, maybe not helping him make any friends when he was chased out of houses in various states of undressed by an unsuspecting husband or betrothed.Even with the amount of trouble he would get himself in, he rose above. Very few in Oxenfurt’s history could boast about the title of Master of the Seven Liberal Arts, and Julian was now one of them. He was poised to take on his dream now. It was his time.At the tender age of eighteen, the newly minted Bard set off on his way with nothing but a book of compositions and his lute. He was expecting success but knew that there was a lot of work and trials ahead of him. No one would hire an unknown Bard for anything. Why would they waste their hard-earned coin on someone they had never heard of before. He would sit alone in darkened taverns and watch these others gain applause after applause. How was he to break through that door? How was he to see himself in such a position? It wasn’t until he got his chance that the answer was given to him.Crowed. The first night he had his chance to perform was more crowded than he had ever seen. Nerves were something that the young man had yet to feel before, the collar of his blue tunic felt tight, his skin warm to the touch, and the odd feeling of having something caught in his throat nearly caused him to back out. Standing before a group of strange faces had him frozen in place - it was now or never.The first strum of the strings was light, too quiet for the crowd to hear. His bright blues slowly closed to try and calm the persistent thumping of his heart beneath his breast. With a large intake of air, he strummed again, louder and harder and with more heart than he thought he was capable of. It was like a flash of fire and he was off. His voice carried over the crowd like an incoming storm, his tales hopefully spinning the imagination of those who listened as he had experienced as a young boy. Feeding off the response, he felt high. His head buzzed as each new song brought on applause. Was this what it was supposed to feel like? The more rousing his music got, the more the crowd wanted, boosting his confidence by the second. The woman stared, the men swayed and clashed their mugs of ale together, coins bounced off the stage floor in his direction - it was pure bliss for the young artist.He never would forget that night. Every time he played, he made sure to give them every bit of him, leaving every part of him behind for them to eat up and experience. Jumping across tables, moving through the crowded spaces to include those who song along, engaging with them as if they were the only people in the room. It stood him apart from the others in his trade, and after the songs and tells he had written about his adventures with Geralt, there was no stopping him.It’s about performance with, the now known, Jaskier the Bard.

- 𝘀𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗽𝗶𝗽𝗲𝗿

01/21/2022 07:56 PM 

scorched flesh

He could remember the taste of copper that filled his mouth with each wild blow he was dealt; unable to move, to defend himself with anything other than his wit - which didn’t seem to favor him very well that day either. Peppered with questions about Geralt, about a child he had never met, unable to give this stranger with a passion for pain an answer that would stop the onslaught.That smell of searing flesh lingered for days. The tender, damaged tissue on the softest part of his appendages reminded him of how dangerous this world was becoming each passing day. Tucked up against the corner of the prison cell he now inhabited, his ocean optics stared intently at the scaly, scarred skin of his right fingers; scared to bend his knuckles should the fresh scabs crack and start bleeding once more. It had been only a day or so since he had been strapped to that chair in the darkened tavern, confused, alone, and frightened.Jaskier never thought he was good at much. An educated man by all accounts but he never applied it in a way that benefited him until he started composing and writing. His adventures with Geralt had fed him a new purpose and directed him in such a manner that he was able to figure out the man that he was meant to be, despite what he had grown up to believe. As embellished as some of his songs had been, he was proud of them, and the idea that he may never get to write again haunted him in that damp cell.The burns were severe. They stung almost as much as the tears in his eyes did when he stared at them. Blackened with soot and dried blood, small pieces of skin peeling away to reveal the pinkish tissue beneath, raw and angry and in pain. There was no use in trying to get his guard to bring someone to tend to the wounds. He was on his own again, left to deal with the wake of the chaos that followed the name of ‘Geralt’ around. The Bard felt broken, defeated, and alone. Yennefer had disappeared again, there was no chance that Geralt even knew where he was and he doubted that anyone in Oxenfurt would attempt to set him free - a repercussion of having a wandering eye and taking advantage of his sway over the opposite sex.Alone, in pain, beaten and broken. Had he managed to get out alive, he could never look at a flame again; the stinging memory of how his scorched flesh smelt would forever stay with him. 


01/21/2022 06:37 PM 

Unsent Letter

Unsent Letter.  Dear you.  I thought you leaving me was the worst thing that could have happened to me, but in reality it was probably the best. There would be no more lonely nights. No more awful fights just to feel something from each other. No more lying that we we're fine when we were most definitely not okay. There will be moments and memories that I'll cherish forever. Our inside jokes. How from day one we had a connection that no one else understood. I never had that with anyone else.  You're not an awful person and I hope you know that. Sometimes I wish that I could hate you, it would make everything so much easier. But the truth of it all is I don't. I never have and I never could hate you. You showed me something that no one else did. Made me believe that I am worth more than what I was giving myself credit for and for that I thank you. You took my hand and lead me from the darkness. You continued to do this over and over again just to make sure I was okay. And when you needed me the most I wasn't there. I had already given up on everything we had, waiting for that inevitable ending.  I used to think that I needed you, that I couldn't stand on my own without you. But here I am months without you and I'm doing just fine. I always felt like I needed to be with someone. I craved that continuous validation from you. But I'd rather be on my own than in a constant state of distress.  For a while I thought everything would go back to how it was. It would be you and I like it's always been, but I don't think things would ever be the same. I know I'd always be on edge- thinking you would up and leave without a warning. What kind of life would that be. That doesn't mean I've stopped caring for you. You'll always be special to me. But you can love someone and not be with them. I've only ever wanted what was best for you and for you to be happy, even if it wasn't with me.  You were the best and the worst parts of me. I know you can say the same about me.  I know you'll never read this and that's okay. Sometimes somethings are better left unsaid.   


01/21/2022 01:18 PM 

Audition Form

-audition form- ——— Please be sure you thoroughly read and signed the rules before auditioning. 001. How long have you been roleplaying? 002. How did you hear about us? If you were referred by a member, please provide their name. 003. Have you been in the group previously? If so, why did you leave? 004. What is Elena and Katherine's favorite dog breed? 005. If something comes up that will keep you from being active, will you let the owners know so we can work something out? IE. WORK, SCHOOL, MEDICAL 006. Are you over the age of 18? DISCORD SERVER MAY CONTAIN MATURE CONTENT 076. In the case you don’t get the role you are applying for, is there another character you would be interested in? 008. Do you have a discord account? Please provide your discord handle. DISCORD IS MANDATORY CHARACTER INFORMATION. 001. Character Name: 002. Face-Claim: 003. Age: 004. Species: 005. Personality: 006. Brief History: If an OC, please provide a full history. 007. If you are auditioning for an OC, how does your character fit into the verse? 008. If your character died in the show, how did you bring them back? 009. Why did you choose this character? WRITING SAMPLE. Your sample must be in the point of view of the character you are auditioning for, in first or third person and must be no less than 500 words.


01/21/2022 12:36 PM 

text template

[ ✉ → sms to arachkids ]:i think something really weird is about to happen. norman is multiplying. we're going to need all the webs and zap-zaps we can muster. meet me at ihop. someone needs to buy me pancakes.

raised by wolves.

01/21/2022 11:35 PM 

witcher's code / guidelines.

WITCHER’S CODE: / GUIDELINES “Evil is Evil. Lesser, greater, middling… Makes no difference. The degree is arbitrary. The definition blurred. If I’m to choose between one evil and another… I’d rather not choose at all.”-Geralt of Rivia, the Witcher.DISCLAIMER: I’m obviously not Sebastian Stan. Thristian is a creation of my own imagination, using Sebastian as a face claim. Please don't steal anything from my page. Although my editing isnt the best I work hard on my things. i.) NEWCOMER / RETURNING FROM HIATUS: I am a newcomer to the world of the Witcher. I admit, I kind of jumped on the bandwagon. I love the lore of the Witcher and how they were created. I’m currently playing The Wild Hunt at the moment and trying to get into the series—it’s hard for me to get into television shows because of my ADHD. but that doesn’t mean I don’t do my own research on the subject or recaps on YouTube. I don’t mind spoilers, so long as they’re not game related. I decided to come back into the world of fantasy on because of COVID-19 and I have much free-time on my hands now because I can no longer work (both Covid and not covid related). I came back to keep my sanity. And honestly, writing by myself is kind of lame, lol.ii.) WITCHER / CROSSOVERS WITHIN REASON: As stated, I am new into the WItcher verse, but I am not subjugated into being only in that realm. I will write in anything high fantasy. I love the fantasy world more than anything–fantasy got me into writing in the first place. Lord of the Rings was the first that got me into fantasy and wanting to create characters and my own worlds. I’ve written a few manuscripts during my hiatus in the fantasy world.iii.) NOVELLA WRITER: I am considered a novella writer. I like to add detail into my writing, especially in the fantasy verse. I tend to write 1000+ words in my writings with dialogue and 5+ paragraphs. This doesn’t mean YOU have to reach my limit. I prefer quantity > quality any day. And as long as someone tries and puts enough effort to where I have something I can respond to, then I am fine with it all. Just give me something.iv.) GRAMMAR AND SPELLING: I understand English is not everyone’s first language. I understand grammar is not everyone’s strong suit, but as long as you try, that’s all that matters. But PLEASE, for the love of God, know the difference between ‘their, there and they’re’. It’s one of my BIGGEST pet peeves.v.) DARK AND TRIGGERING THEMES / ADULT CONTENT: As an adult, I write adult content. The show is known to be very graphic and violent and so will my writing. My writing will have swearing, death, blood, violence, sexual content, homsexual content, and themes some might find triggering. This won’t be a safe space for you if you aren’t okay with it. This is your only warning. I will not put triggers in my DRAMA FOR YOUR MAMA: I ain’t here for it. I’m here to get rid of the drama in my life. I come here from an escape from my boring, mundane life. Any drama outside of character writing will be deleted.vii.) MUTES, GHOSTS, FRIEND COLLECTORS / PRONE TO DELETING SPREES: I’m here to write, as I hope everyone here is. I am not here to be a number on some friend’s list. I know things happen. Life happens. I’m accepting of it. But if it goes months without something, then I will delete you. I will kindly check in with you. If you’re on a hiatus, that’s fine. I won’t delete someone because of a hiatus. I will, however, delete someone if they’ve been quiet. I don’t like ghosts–I’ve had people add me and delete their page within a day in the past and I know a lot of people find it annoying, especially after you’ve spent time on a reply / starter, only for them to have them delete their page. I’ve had it happen before. It sucks. Please, don’t do it. I am not here to be a number on someone’s list.viii..) MENTAL AND PHYSICAL HEALTH / PATIENCE: I suffer a lot of mental health issues. ADHD, depression, anxiety, dyslexia, to name a few. It can be so bad to the point where I don’t have the energy. I am also suffering from a physical energy that can keep me from writing. I ask you to be patient; I will do the same.ix..) IN CHARACTER ROMANCE: Probably won’t happen. I am married in real life, happily. However, IF romance does happen, Thristian is considered to be bisexual–he fu-cks both men and women. He will be in a relationship with both sexes. However, when Thristian does get into a relationship, he will be devoted to that single person. I do not like multi-ship romances. I consider it to be cheating on a character.x.) COMMENTS & GROUPS & DISCORD: I do have discord. Ask for it. It’s easier to chat with and get discussions going rather than messages, ‘cause I know people don’t respond right away. Discord is a quick way for discussions. For writing stories, I prefer comments or groups. Messages can get lost and I can forget if I responded to something. I usually don’t keep comments though until after I respond to it; it keeps my comment section clean and I won’t delete it until after I respond to your comment. Unless we write in groups!.xi.) RESPECT & POLITENESS: Don’t be a d*ck. Plain and simple. I will always greet people with respect, so I hope you will give me the same respect I give you. You don’t know what I’m going through; I don’t know what you’re going through. Be kind. That’s all I ask. I don’t mind if your CHARACTER is a d*ck in writing, but that doesn’t mean YOU have to be! —  That’s about it. Please sign with your signature so I know you’ve read them. I’m not here to be a hardass, or an a**hole.I’m here to write. To make stories. To make friends. I don’t want any toxicity. My mental health is bad enough as it is. I hope to create wonderful stories with you all.Thank you for taking your time to read these. --writer behind Thristian / raised by wolves.  


01/21/2022 11:26 PM 

getting older.

serpent juliet getting older When she sees the blood, the bubble bursts, as Betty takes in the image in front of her, everything appears to crack: the congealing solidity of the liquid her mother is feverishly attempting to sweep up, Chic's stuttering hyperventilating across the kitchen, the unmistakable sound whooshing through her ears as if she were underwater.Betty's brain detects that Jughead had bitten the same lip just hours before and comforted it with passionate kisses when she bites her lip. All she can taste now is the metallic tang of her own blood, heightened by the suffocating odor of blood that pervades Alice Cooper's immaculate veneer. Betty races towards the front hall washroom to vomit into the toilet after something in her stomach twists viciously. When she encourages Betty to get a handle of herself, she still hears everything through a veil, and it seems like Alice is yelling from blocks away.When Betty comes to where Alice is wiping up blood, her heart is in her throat, and her nails are in her hands. She doesn't appear to have made a dent in the problem. There's so much of it, yet Betty's attention is drawn to the sheer volume of blood rather than the body in her peripheral vision. She could throw up again if she thinks long and hard about whether those eyes are open, whether there is life in them. Betty can't bring herself to cross the proverbial. Literal red sea in front of her to reach Chic, who is still crouched on the ground on the other side of the blood; even though she wants to comfort this person with whom she feels an inexplicable connection beyond shared DNA, she can't bring herself to do so. "Mom," she stutters. "Can you tell me what happened?"As she talks, Alice seems upset with Betty, but as if it were over something as insignificant as Betty wearing ugly cut-off jeans and failing to inquire about the possibly dead corpse on their kitchen floor. "We don't have time for this, Elizabeth. Please go to the garage and fetch additional rags. They're the ones your father uses to wash his vehicles. Now!"Betty Cooper listens to her mother because that's what she does. She hears her mother tell her to change out of her dress and into pants; she hears her mother tell her to run a load of blood-soaked rags in the washer. To wash Chic's hands for him, help Alice wrap the body in more towels, transport it in the back of the station wagon, drive with her to some back corner of the Southside, and carry it into a drain pipe. Betty listens since she can't think of anything else to do.Betty attempts to find words during the agonizingly silent trip. What do you say when your mother is wearing your favorite coat to conceal her blood-stained sweater, and there's a body in the trunk, and you're traveling across town? Do you tell her you've just had your virginity taken away? You bring up the boy's father with whom you recently lost your virginity."FP," she quietly whispers. "Well, he." She can't get the words out of her head. "He's been known to hide a corpse before. Could we...ask for a second pair of hands?""He was apprehended, Elizabeth. He managed to conceal a body, albeit not very effectively." The snort Alice responds with is sarcastically mocking.Betty's intellect finally catches up to her body as the body is placed, the thud reverberating with terrible finality, and something inside her shatters. During the return trip, Alice remains silent, although she does take one hand off the driving wheel to securely grasp her daughter's clenched fist. She's looking for solace, camaraderie, or...something, but she's not sure what.Betty is trembling when they go home, unable to comprehend what has happened. She dashes for the entryway table, where she'd left her phone when Jughead had dropped her off. When she hits the call button next to Jughead's name, her fingers are slippery with sweat and blood—hers, not that it's any better than the alternative. He scans the kitchen lights, which are still on, for Alice's army of cleaning tools and Chic's hunched body. "Uh, Mrs. Cooper?" The elder woman doesn't explain, but she gives him a softer glance than average. Jughead determines that this is a perplexing indication in and of itself. "Could you kindly assist in getting Betty washed up and into bed, Jughead?"He makes a blinking motion. Betty, too, raises her head slightly, tears still streaming down her face but clearing briefly to heed her mother's remarks. They listen to Alice Cooper, as one does. Jughead grabs Betty's hand in his and helps her up on her unsteady knees before walking her up the stairwell with a calming palm caressing her back. Betty freezes at her bedroom doorway as if she doesn't recognize the world around her—things have changed irreversibly since she left her room earlier that day.Jughead, perplexed, takes the lead, snatching Betty's fluffy pink robe from the back of her vanity chair and gently escorting her down the hall to the toilet. The aroma of Betty's perfume and shampoo fills the little room, the soothing scent washing over Jughead in waves and anchoring him. He's still on high alert, absolutely baffled as to what's going on, but Betty appears to be physically fine—aside from her palms—and that alone helps to lower his heart rate.Betty emerges with mascara rings across her eyes and damp hair plastered on her cheeks as the taps squeal off. When Jughead tosses her the robe, she shrugs it off before scooping up the goods from the counter and following Jughead back across the hall to her room. Jughead kneels down at the edge of Betty's soft pink bed, gently applying ointment and band-aids to each of the crescent sores on her hands, putting small kisses on top of each one as he finishes. Betty curls into the fetal position as he does so, grasping his hands to pull him along with her. home comment message gallery stream blog I'm getting older, I think I'm aging well I wish someone had told me I'd be doing this by myself There's reasons that I'm thankful, there's a lot I'm grateful for But it's different when a stranger's always waiting at your doorBut next week, I hope I'm somewhere laughing For anybody asking, I promise I'll be fine I've had some trauma, did things I didn't wanna Was too afraid to tell ya, but now, I think it's time

easy rider.

01/21/2022 12:17 PM 

How to Write a Roleplay Starter

The Basics of a Roleplay Starter   ​​A “starter” is the first message in a roleplay thread; it is the start of the story. When you write a lazy starter, there’s not a lot of incentive for the other person to respond. No one wants to do all the work in a roleplay, so you need to make sure you are providing a starter that they will be excited to respond to and build off of.     In order for a starter to be effective, it needs to do three basic things: Set the scene Introduce your characters And create an opportunity for the other person to respond I’ll break down each point in more detail in the sections below.  Set the Scene The very first thing your starter should do is establish the setting in which the characters are going to encounter each other. Do they meet in a bar? Are they on the same plane? Are they both wandering through the same cursed forest? No matter what you choose, you need to make sure you are describing the scene well so the other player knows how to navigate it with their own character.  In many cases, the initial setting is discussed before the actual start of the roleplay. However, even if you know in advance that the characters will be meeting in a coffee shop, you still get to name the coffee shop, describe the atmosphere, and establish the basic layout of the building. Don’t get too hung up on the details, however. You aren’t writing a novel after all, and you don’t want your starter to end up being several thousand words.  There is a notable exception to this rule. If you are writing a fandom roleplay, and the characters will be meeting in a location that appears in the original story (the “canon”), then you simply have to state the location and where your character is within it. Introduce Your CharacterThe next most important thing that a starter must do is introduce the character (or characters) you intend to play.  In almost all cases, roleplayers exchange character bios before the start of the roleplay. This is an important step that allows you and your roleplay partner to determine the potential chemistry between the characters. The last thing you want is to realize the characters don’t have a good dynamic after the story gets rolling. You should still include a brief character bio even if you intend to play a canon character from a fandom. Use their bio as a way of introducing quirks and behaviors that you think apply to the character, and share any headcanons that you may have for them. If the character deviates at all from how they are depicted in the source material, then you need to point that out as well.  Since the other player already knows your character’s basic information from their bio, you don’t need to give a complete physical description of them when you introduce them in the starter. You can mention a few of their physical traits, but for the most part, your introduction should focus on how the character behaves.  To go back to the coffee shop example: Is your character sitting quietly by themself with a bagel and a coffee? Are they engaged in a debate with other coffee shop goers? Are they arguing with the cashier about their credit card being declined? Use their introduction as an opportunity to show how the traits you described in their character bio manifest in their behavior. By focusing on what your character is doing instead of what they look like, you are also giving your roleplay partner an opportunity to respond to the situation. 

easy rider.

01/20/2022 11:32 PM 

RP Styles and How To’s

Introduction: There are many different things about Role Play that some know and some do not. I am going to try and objectively cover each part of Role Play as I know. My goal is to give everyone an understanding of Role Play, how it works, and to give a bit of an explanation to the many types of Role Play styles that people have. I want to let everyone know that I am not an RP snob. I will play with anyone and everyone. I just want to shed a little light into the confusing world of Role Play styles.   Post Length: The wonderful thing about RP is that not everyone does it the same way. I will try to keep the examples simple. These are only meant to give you a feel for the type of RP that I am speaking of. First I want to talk about post length. There are several variations of post length and they are defined as follows: One Word: Just as the name entails these are simple responses. RP in this category normally will not form a full sentence. Examples in RP:  “Ok boss.” sits down. cries. “Yes!” One Line: This category of RP generally is at least one sentence long. The length of the sentence is generally 5+ words. While most tend to have slightly longer sentences of a minimum of 10+ words. Most Gorean sims in raids require your RP actions to be 10+ words. Examples in RP: walked along the path heading towards the scarlet’s offices to see if any warriors were there. carefully reached for the hot pot trying not to spill it. cries out “How dare you touch what does not belong to you!”. Examples in Raids: runs to GenericAvi and binds his hands behind his back. takes GenericAvi to the docks sailing back to MyCity quickly. slaps a bandage on GenericAvi stopping the bleeding quickly before running. Semi Para: This is a bit of a grey area. Many players will have a different idea of what Semi Para is. Semi Para normally consists of about two sentences (Please understand you can have more). The reason this is not a full paragraph is that it is much shorter than a full paragraph. It tends to take less time to post as well. Examples in RP: strolled along the wooded area his feet taking him down the path of the stream. A heavy sigh parted his lips as his dark eyes turned to glance around the all but deserted space. Para: Para play is generally longer posts consisting of at least one paragraph. These can vary in length but most of the time they are 5+ sentences. Most Semi Para players can fall into this group as well as they are already accustomed to writing longer posts so they have a tendency to bounce between the two styles. Examples in RP: long tendrils of webs black hair spun down the lengths of a sleek and slender back. Pale skin contrasted the raven locks and seemed to have a delicate sheen in the pale moonlight. Lithe and beautiful, slender and sleek that figure seemed to captivate. unable to look away yet unable to move one could only sit and stare in awe. Such a beast befitting to a king was she that one could only wonder at what riches she could bestow. Dry lips parted and finally words the words were found to speak “You…girl are the most pleasing”. Foot falls echoed as finally lurching forward as if released from a spell could I move. Multi-Para: Multi-Para RP is very much the same as Semi Para or Para. Now I know a lot of the seasoned RPers will be screaming at me for saying it but it is in fact true. If you can not Semi Para or Para RP then you wont be able to Multi-Para. Multi-Para is a combination of Semi Para and Para RP so instead of just having one part of your post you will have multiple Semi Para’s or Paras in a single post. Examples in RP: long tendrils of webs black hair spun down the lengths of a sleek and slender back. Pale skin contrasted the raven locks and seemed to have a delicate sheen in the pale moonlight. Lithe and beautiful, slender and sleek that figure seemed to captivate. unable to look away yet unable to move one could only sit and stare in awe. Such a beast befitting to a king was she that one could only wonder at what riches she could bestow. Dry lips parted and finally words the words were found to speak “You…girl are the most pleasing”. Foot falls echoed as finally lurching forward as if released from a spell could I move. Reaching towards the delicate shoulder fingers pressing into the supple skin a grin tugged at the corner of my mouth. The slow lean of my body loomed over that delicate frame below bringing lips near a partially exposed ear. “Greetings Mine” the tone just a faded breath that washed hot against her delicate skin. Pulling away slowly and moving around before her my heavy gaze leveled on her exposed body giving a nod of approval. Dialog: Dialog is when you are speaking. The most common way to show that you are speaking is to use quotes (“___”). However, not everyone uses them. I will give you a few examples using the same ones that I gave for actions on how to incorporate speaking into your posts. Please note that you do not always have to post an action or anything else with your dialog. Examples in RP: /me takes the rope leash and starts to drag the man to the dock. “Take us home captain!” *takes the cup from the wash bin and puts it on the shelf* The cups go on the top shelf and the bowls on the bottom. Don’t forget! ~Works the picks into the locks quickly to see if it will open~Hurry it up already! The guards are coming!~I whispered as a panicked breath escaped.~ I can’t wait any longer. The boat leaves now woman. You can either be on it or be left here.~said the stout looking man~ I can’t believe we made it! That was such a close call. Those guards really almost had us there for a second. Thoughts: Thoughts are a tough subject when it comes to RP. Many people do not like them, however just as many use them. The trouble with a thought is that normally it is like Dialog but the only one that would be able to hear it is you. Rule of thumb is that if you do not want the person you are playing with responding to a thought then do not use them. Far too often thoughts are used to insult another player and it has caused a lot of chaos. Now, does this mean to never ever use them? Not really. The only example I can think of for a thought emote is when you are playing with another player and they don’t seem to understand what you are wanting. Thinking about how hungry you are might prompt that player to give you food. So remember use thought emotes at your own risk as the player you are playing with will use it. If you do use a thought most use them as an action as putting them in quotes or any other form other players can mistake it as Dialog. Other parts to a post can be as follows but they are sometimes not really required: Setting: Details about your surroundings or things that you might like to use while you RP. This can be from a description of the room you are to the chair you are sitting on. Atmosphere: This tends to be the over arching feel of an area. It is sometimes confused with Mood. Atmosphere is more like a setting. Are you in a dark and damp dungeon or just a room with a nice warm fire? The Atmosphere in a dark dungeon would be uncomfortable and maybe cold. A warm fire might be inviting or comforting. The reason this is different from mood is this is just a start. A mood is what develops during the RP. You can start with a dark cold dungeon and end up with a steamy mood. Mood: People may say various things about what a mood is. They might also say its similar to Atmosphere. The main thing here is the emotions in a particular RP. Moods can be steamy, tense, aggressive or more! This is there while your RP and can add depth and emotion to what you are doing.   The Tense of a Post. Past, Present, and Future: Many RPers have their own way of posting. As if you couldn’t tell from the Post Length section above there are also different styles on how they post. Just like the heading says some players will prefer a different tense. it all depends on who you are playing and what you are doing. To explain this there are two concepts one needs to be familiar with. Power Gaming/God Moding: Power gaming is where you are telling the other person how they will react. If you yell at someone you will post the reaction for them that they are scared. There is no excuse for power gaming. You are in RP to have a story with another person not do all the writing yourself. If that is the case then you don’t need to RP you need to be writing to yourself only. God Moding is when you take an action and succeed in that action without giving others around a chance to react. In the example below we look at Tibs a happy shop keep as she tends to her work when a stranger comes over to her. The stranger Xavier takes charge of her and as you can see it goes from Tibs greeting him to Xavier not only taking hold of her but also posting her reaction for him before Tibs can post. Examples in RP: Tibs(rose4U) looked up at the man her eyes shy as her posture was demure. speaking slowly she would ask of him “Why have you come to my shop?” Xavier(someone1818) reached down grabbing you by the hair. yanking your slender form upwards along the arch of his body he watched you tremble in fear. He could hear you begging for mercy as he grabbed you. This example works for God Modding as well. Xavier just assumed he would get hold of the woman. By instantly taking an action and giving Tibs no time to react he just forced his RP on her. The proper way for this to have gone is for Xavier to have posted: Xavier(someone1818) attempted to reach down and grab you by the hair. If he succeeded he would yank your slender form upwards along the arch of his body while watching your face for your reaction. His stone cold eyes narrowing slightly with a grim smile playing across his features. With this post Tibs has a chance to say if she will be grabbed or not and she has an option of how Xavier would react should he get hold of her. It makes it easier for Tibs to have a chance to get away and in this fashion she can post her reaction. If she chooses to dodge she will post how she dodges and perhaps start to shout about what Xavier were doing. She if grabbed could also demand to be let go of but in the end the choice is up to her if Xavier will succeed. How does all this pertain to the tense of a post? That is because it is a mix of them all! Xavier would use future tense to try and grab Tibs. Tibs could use present tense to respond to the action that took place and use future tense to give him a chance to react. If Tibs were to strike back at Xavier he would have the option to allow her to him him or not in his next post. Some of you might be asking well what about using past tense? That’s easy. If you look through my previous examples from the previous sections I have tried to use a little of each.Wait? What tense should I use? I say that is entirely up to you. Different tenses fit different situations and everyone has their own style. Go with what you feel comfortable with and don’t worry about it. You might RP with someone who only uses past tense or one that only uses future. All of that is ok! Just remember to not Power Game or God Mode and all will be good.The Tone of a post. First Person, Second Person, Third Person:Just like the header says this is coming down to personal preference. You can refer to yourself when you RP any way you wish. Just remain consistent with what tense you are using. If you switch from first person to third person you can confuse people you are playing with as they might think you are RPing with someone else.Courtesies for posting:When playing with others it is important to remember that while you are in the RP its not all about you. What I mean by this is that you might have your own way of RP but you can not expect your RP partner to do RP the same way you do. Try to be polite to those that don’t do it your way and remember, they are just like you want want to have fun.After talking to fellow RP’ers the following are a few simple things that can make RP easy for all and keep everyone on the same page. Not everyone will follow these courtesies but just remember this is to try and bring some order to the chaos. ​​​How does all this pertain to the tense of a post? That is because it is a mix of them all! Xavier would use future tense to try and grab Tibs. Tibs could use present tense to respond to the action that took place and use future tense to give him a chance to react. If Tibs were to strike back at Xavier he would have the option to allow her to him him or not in his next post. Some of you might be asking well what about using past tense? That’s easy. If you look through my previous examples from the previous sections I have tried to use a little of each.Wait? What tense should I use? I say that is entirely up to you. Different tenses fit different situations and everyone has their own style. Go with what you feel comfortable with and don’t worry about it. You might RP with someone who only uses past tense or one that only uses future. All of that is ok! Just remember to not Power Game or God Mode and all will be good.The Tone of a post. First Person, Second Person, Third Person:Just like the header says this is coming down to personal preference. You can refer to yourself when you RP any way you wish. Just remain consistent with what tense you are using. If you switch from first person to third person you can confuse people you are playing with as they might think you are RPing with someone else.Courtesies for posting:When playing with others it is important to remember that while you are in the RP its not all about you. What I mean by this is that you might have your own way of RP but you can not expect your RP partner to do RP the same way you do. Try to be polite to those that don’t do it your way and remember, they are just like you want want to have fun.After talking to fellow RP’ers the following are a few simple things that can make RP easy for all and keep everyone on the same page. Not everyone will follow these courtesies but just remember this is to try and bring some order to the chaos. Posting Order: When playing always give the people around a chance to respond. If you throw out a post and then another not only do you make them have to pause what they are about to do to see what you just did but they might also have to change their RP. Also if you post after someone posts but not everyone someone else might be posting something that changes what you would have done. The polite thing to do is to post and wait. After everyone around you has posted respond. Have a sense of humor: While RP can be personal and affect you emotionally because your character is an extension of you you have to remember that this is a game. A person that is an ass in RP might not be an ass when then are not in RP. When you are in RP you are called In Character or IC. Don’t let yourself get made when you are not in RP about what is happening in RP. If someone slaps you in RP find a way to get back at them later this will help produce some fun story lines that can go on for ages to come! Grammar/Punctuation: This is more to help you. I realize that not everyone speaks English or can type as well as others. Having proper grammar so that people can understand you though is very helpful. Punctuation can be juts as important because too many times in RP can a player get angry because they misunderstood what you typed. So remember comma’s and periods are life savers! If someone doesn't follow the rules you have stated, you are free to decline to RP with them. Keep in mind this step is optional, you are free to roleplay with anyone you want. COPYRIGHT 2022 CREDIT All-Write Alright


01/20/2022 11:23 PM 

AC 19

          "What did you do to yourself?" "What have you done to yourself, child?" Harley's mother asked in Russian.  Harley leaned forward on the antique couch. One wrong move and she would ruffle the green velvet. Her mother wouldn't hesitate to kill her on the spot. The couch cost more than Harley's home.  "You have a big mouth, speak..." Harley's said in English this time. Her cold green hues starred deep into Harley's blue eyes. Harley hated being eye assaulted like that. It made her skin crawl. "They attacked me," Harley finally replied. She hid her black eye well. She'd spent over a hundred on make-up, so it goddamn better. She tucked a string of her blonde hair behind her ear and shifted her gaze to the floor. "I couldn't go to work like that. People would ask questions." "Coward." Harley's mother leaned back in one of her many fur coats and let out a whiff of smoke in Harley's direction.  Harley cleared her throat, "I'm not a coward. You let your goons loose on me." Harley's mother grabbed Harley's chin. "You are a coward, just like your father," she spat back, grinning deviously Harley's father was a sore subject. He died when she was a small child, and she had nothing but good memories of it. "You're the coward," Harley muttered under her breath. Harley's mother's eyes narrowed. She gripped Harley's cheeks hard in her hands, dragging her in. "I'm a coward?" She licked her lips, "Do you know what it took to raise a whore like you?" Harley balled her hand into a fist. She was ready to strike, but stopped herself. She focused her energy on holding back tears, but the sobs soon followed.  Now wipe that ridiculous make up off your face. You'll never be a pretty girl," her mother said before getting up. 

Devious Bloodmage

01/20/2022 10:46 PM 

A Tevinter Ball. 1x1/Voice of the Sea
Current mood:  accomplished

A Tevinter Ball. 1x1 w/ Voice of the Sea   Video: “Russian Waltz Music" By: The Culture Society (Unofficially)___________________________________ The one thing about the people of Tevinter: they never stopped caring about the architecture of their true home. The buildings down the main street of Minrathous still had to this day the original decorative carvings all intact of their ivory pillars. The window stained glass always kept its bright original colors and patterns. Every once in a while, the outside of some of the middle-class houses might have needed a fresh coat of paint or a rotten board to be replaced but nothing about the original design of each building was ever changed. Better even still, the cobblestone streets all still kept their original stones. Despite his upbringing…and even despite his exile, Tempest had a great love for his original home. It was far more understanding than the Southern lands. Here in Tevinter, a mage was praised upon for his talent and allowed to live outside of a college to spend time with family or try their hand at politics. In the Southern lands, a mage was looked upon with caution and sometimes even fear. Good luck trying to escape a Circle; if one was ever put there, they would rot there. The only solution would be to run from the Circle life and be marked as an apostate. One could possibly live that life without too much worry. Some Templars or mage-hunters would give an apostate the benefit of the doubt and allow them to live in peace. But for someone like Tempest?—A bloodmage?—Not a chance in hell. In most cases, he would be killed on the spot if he did not have shackles around his wrists and/or his mouth sewn shut. Ironically, he would not be praised for his talent beyond Tevinter and Tevinter wants nothing to do with him. It was a wonder that he even got inside Tevinter. He had to use a fake name with fake passports just to get over the boarder. It’s not like it was never done before, but Tempest was not ignorant to his situation. He knew he would be killed on the spot just as easily within his own home as he would have been outside of it. It all came down to a matter of who still remembered his face and who was actually involved with his exile. He did have a reason for returning home, and it wasn’t just for a possible death wish. He had a big tip from the Charlatans in the Obsidian Isles that one of the cult members he sought after, had returned home from the war against the Qunari over in Seheron. That was a lot of sailing just to return home in a pine box. There was no way that Tempest was about to believe that the man returned home as a corpse and even if so, Tempest intended on making sure he would become an even ‘deader’ corpse. Though, for now, he tried not to think on old memories that brought only discomfort and sadness to him. He wanted to enjoy at least some of his stay at home. It had been too long since he heard any true authentic Tevinter musicians. He missed the food, the drinks and especially the dances. Not those fancy, over the top ballroom dances; no. He missed the street dances where bodies would glide across the air as if they were flying and magic carried them across the walls. He remembered one time, a true player of the arts carried his dance across the ceiling as a child. He never had such happiness again after his sixth birthday. He remembered it like being in a home similar to the one he was in now. The walls were painted white. The windows were tall enough to cover a front panel and marked with stained class and silver boarders. The floor was designed from cracked marble and every ivory pillar had the carvings of an apostle to the Maker of the True Divine. A lush red carpet marked the large dance hall that remained in the center of the room; surrounded by long tables. Each window here was draped with red velvet curtains that were left open and touched the floor. Everything was rich. Extravagant. Expensive. Enigmatic. Tempest just knew that there was a basement somewhere connected from here to a secret passage. Where beyond that, there would be a torture chamber of sorts or perhaps a drug operation that cooked up lyrium on the side ---or perhaps both! It was not always the case, but sometimes it was. He just had to find the owner to talk shop with them. If he could get an inside route from Tevinter to the Obsidian Isles, everything up until this point for him would have been finally at a head. It wasn’t really a money issue, though—it was about murder—and Tempest had plenty of targets here. He just had to remove their masks, see them for who they were and confirm if they had anything to do with his trauma as a child. Needless to say, everything about home made him just as excited as he was nervous. The music was playing a soothing melody. People were talking amongst themselves at the long tables across each side of the room. Some were dancing to the tune that was playing. Tempest needed to mingle. There was so much that might have changed since was last in Tevinter and it was high time that he found some informants for himself on the inside. At least he was dressed for the part. Everyone was in their fancy gowns and robes. One could tell which were the City Guards and Personal Guards by the suit of armor that they were and the sigil across their breastplates. Tempest was actually in a black and white doublet with the ruffles at the cuffs and a silver peac*ck feather pin that was painted blue to stand out, pinned across his right side that actually pinpointed where his heart remained. (His was not placed at the center, like every other normal human.) He endured wearing tights, marking him more as an expensive business merchant from elsewhere. It also indicated in the sligh hint that he didn’t have magic –--which would be a lie; but he was actually trying to lay low in a city that would be quick to kill him. Yes; he couldn’t wait to be out of those tight clothes and back into clothing that made sense to him. He still carried with him the necklace of the Tevinter Imperium Dragon, and with it concealed a hidden needle-prick dagger in case of emergencies. Beyond that, he didn’t carry any weapons on him---as a bloodmage, he didn’t really need to carry anything. It would have mostly been for the peace of mind and to throw off a person’s expectations of him. Tempest did enjoy it when he was underestimated… An elven servant carrying a silver tray of wine passed by him and Tempest grabbed a crystal glass as he made his way across the room to mingle. He was a man who blended in easily usually. He had the rugged good looks of a poor man out for adventure but also the noticeable proud genetics of a fine bloodline. In his family, there had always been the strong nose –which he had broken and reset a few times—and the strong chin that marked good breeding. His eyebrows were thick and full and his deep blue eyes pulled back a few traces of crows feet when he smiled; thus showing more to his age and experience but his youth remained spry; for a bloodmage has a tendency to age much slower than a mage of any other talent. Despite his years, it did look as though he came to the point where he stopped aging completely; and such genetics proved to have been a closer bloodline to the High Archon, the current ruler of the entire Empire. Therefore, building families all boiled down to genes and his were desired when strengthening them. If his Mother had not been so angry with him to have him in exile, he would have proven to be an excellent bargaining chip for larger lands and bigger titles. Sadly, all of this would go to waste. “I say! After last year’s inflation due to gold fraud, it’s nice to see that some familiar faces will be returning back to the Magistrate!” One Imperial noble remarked another royal guest next to him. “We should really be focusing more on our own trades than hunting down those barbaric qunari.” “They’re the ones who brought the fight to us. We’re not about to just bow down to a bunch of foreigners from across the sea, are we?” The second man remarked and took a wine glass from one of the revolving trays that the servant elves were carrying. “No, sir! I will not stand for it. Neither should the Empire.” “I’m not saying to hand ourselves over to them. I simply mean we have bigger problems on our own to worry about. Let them at least cross the raging sea before coming here.” The first man argued. “Why not meet them halfway?” Tempest remarked and jumped right into the conversation. He curled his left arm under his right elbow and drank from his cup. He waited for both men to look at him oddly, of course before continuing. “The High Archon should create a naval force strong enough to withstand the Qunari’s might dreadnaughts. It shouldn’t be too impossible to create and it may provide more job opportunities for the citizens at home. This is a war, after all.” He could see their little wheels in their heads turning to the idea. Just another suggestion from someone they met at a royal ball. They may even get a bonus in their paychecks if it was mentioned to the High Archon at some time, but that was not Tempest’s goal. He was looking for opportunities to plant more of his spies… Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all

Devious Bloodmage

01/20/2022 09:41 PM 

Obsidian Isles. 1x1/Evanna
Current mood:  accomplished

Obsidian Isles. 1x1 w/Evanna   Video: “The Parson's Farewell" By: Black Sails OST___________________________________ Pungent pressed perfumes and caked face powder hung in the air. Tempest never did get used to it. Back when he fought in the blistering cold of the frozen Nevarran sands, he didn’t smell such things that could plug the nose. But here on the Obsidian Isles – His Isles, the sands were warm, the liquor was sweet and the women were nice and loose. The violence was about as what one would expect from a pirate-filled land, though, but it was still off to a good start. There were plenty of street vendors selling their wares or stolen property at cheaper prices – just everyone trying to make an ends meat, at the end of the day. He owned this territory through secret organizations and clouded reputations. The Charlatan was always a name spoke in undertones with shifting eyes. The Charlatan was not just one person though; but rather an entire network of people with hidden identities. They were spies, pirates, merchants and even some nobles from across the sea. They sold information with high ranking assassination groups, nearby kingdoms and royal houses and what better currency to acquire information with than with more information? Things like bastard a heir that could bring down the threat of an entire family line or sailing shipments that carried more cargo than any merchant would know what to do with. But the island needed more than just secrets to make a profit and a living. The Charlatans acted more like a hidden guard behind each islands’ actual peace-keepers. Stolen imported goods made faster money and protection papers usually kept other pirates from looting the same shipment of goods twice. Just about anything one could think of was usually on sale too; from bearskin rugs to bare skin people. That was where the pungent smell of too much face powder and sharp perfumes came from, actually. The young elven lass next to him, stood wearing a worn Dalish attire that clung to her skin and left unmarked areas still warm. Her hair was damp and stuck to her back but her chin remained held high. Her shoes were just as worn as well. Tempest paraded her around like a prized animal with collar and leash in all. “Folks, I have a prized native specimen fresh off the caravan straight into your heart.” The pirate announced from the stage and held his arms outward and wide open for the people below to pass by. His attention soon turned to addressing his captured prey; turning to walk circles around her and dragging the leashed chain as he spoke. “Behold the beauty of one hundred percent all Navarran blood: Grade A Dalish Elf; born for her physical labor and tamed for your upmost satisfaction! The renowned property of the one and only Bannon Lanchalleshaster Monte De-Herswales The Fourteenth. Say that three times fast in Nevarra and the nearest Danae will give you the Dance of the Seven Veils; I tell no lie!” He reached to position her; pulling and posing different parts of her body as he continued to sell her more defined assets. “A delicate frame but fast healing; capable of withstanding damage. Notice the sharp features of her chin and her elbows. You could just as easily pass her as a Lady in-waiting for you significant long lost other. A good set of teeth too! All still there and accounted for—” The she-elf lurched at him and attempted to bite Tempest’s hand, making him quickly retract away with a jolt. “Whoa, there!” He exclaimed and then looked back towards the crowd. “Looks like there’s still some bite to the bark in this one, after all!” He then stepped closer to her and mumbled between clenched and a fake smile. "Tone it down a notch.” Turning at last, he gave her rear end a quick hindquarter slap upon making his way back around to her other side. “Not to mention, ‘the’ most plump ass you will find this side of the ol’ Black Rock. Now, I’m not going to mince anymore words trying to sell you what a great product I have to offer! Captain Mad Eye does not have any use for a woman on his ship either, so I’m ordered to get the best bargain price I can for a royal quality living property. Take her into your home! Train her for your lass at over seas or maybe your street urchins here! Charge the Bannon ransom money to have her back or keep her for yourself---? Or, hey, why not a bit of it all? But I need a your price and I need it today!” The crowd that had came before the stage had looked at the proposal curiously. It was not often that slaves were sold on the Obsidian Isles. Usually the Charlatans or the City Guards would have shut such a man down by now. But this man was pretty loud and extravagant, and yet there was no authority figure in sight. It meant –at the very least, to the unsuspecting—that it was a steal to pass up. So, naturally, there were people willing to quickly throw their offers first but there was only one individual that Tempest wanted to hear from and that person stayed nestled in the crowd for time being. Tempest decided that if this person was going to cost him time, then he was going to cost them money in return. After all, there was nothing more valuable to a person then their time—especially his. “I’m asking for at least 3,000 pieces of gold. Do I have 3,000?” He asked and started to point amongst the crowd while taking in request. “That’s 3,000! Is there 3,800? 3,800 it is! Can I get a 4,500? Mr.Big Spender there, wants her for 10,000! Can I get 15,000? Anyone? Oh! 15,020! You’re playing hard, I see. Good on you! Anyone else?” Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all

ρяσтє¢тινє ѕαℓναтσяє

01/20/2022 08:19 PM 

My Loved Ones

My Mother Ryleigh

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