RolePlayer.me

Name: SaarebassAlias(s): SaarSex: MaleRace/Species: Human-Qunari half-breedAge: 28Family: Both parents deceasedBirthplace: RivainOccupation: Mercenary, mageHeight: 6' 3"Weight: 257 lbs.Eye Color: GoldHair: BlackWeapons/Equipment: Bladed-staff, magicAttributes/Traits: Stronger than most humans, but weaker than most Qunari; Self-taught polearms expert; Self-taught mage, well-versed in magic, but with a greater focus on the Primal schoolBio: Living in Kont-aar, Saar's mother, a Tamassran, grew up curious about human culture. It was this curiosity that caused her to dally with a human man in Rivain. Through this man, she learned of the concept of love outside of the Qun and found her faith within her society wavering in favor of the more free and intimate nature of human society. It was only after seeing this man defending himself from the Templars did she learn of his true nature. He was a mage. It was not soon after this that she discovered she was pregnant. Already filled with doubt about the Qun and now fearing for the life of her child if her people ever found out, Tamassran fled Kont-aar and vanished deep in Rivain.When her child was born, her greatest fear was realized. He possessed the gift...and curse...of magic. At first, she was frightened. The Qun would have demanded he be bound and chained...but when she looked into her child's eyes, she did not feel disgust or pity. She felt...love. Genuine love that his father had helped her realize. Her child, her half-breed child would live and neither the Templars nor the Qunari would ever take him from her, not while she drew breath.She named her son "Saar", which in the Qunari tongue means: dangerous. She found it fitting considering his status as a mage, but she would never call him "Saarebas"; her son was dangerous, but he was not a "bas", or "thing", to her. Having no real knowledge about magic, Tamassaran- who know called herself "Karam" to better hide herself from those who hunted the Tal-Vashoth- could only caution her son in the usage of magic. She did not believe in the Chantry, but she used one or two of its teachings to help him understand magic and its dangers. Saar came to both fear and respect magic, agreeing with the passage of the Chant: "Magic is meant to serve man, not to rule over him". Still, despite keeping his nightmares in check, avoiding possession by demons, and learning what he could about magic, Saar dealt with an affliction worse than the magic flowing through his blood...loneliness. He had tried to make friends, to be social with others, but was met with failure every time. Children were wary of him because of his appearance- pale skin, the way he towered over them, and the horns protruding from his head-, and adults threatened or chased him away. They feared him because the Qunari were feared in general; his half-breed appearance only further stigmatized him. Karam saw her son struggle not to see himself as a monster."It is not appearances or heritages that define us, child...it is our actions."Saar, took his mother's wisdom to heart, He lived his life in solitude with his mother, trying to master his magic, ignoring the barbs made by the people in the village, and also delving curiously into his Qunari heritage, taking up some of the Qun's teachings, but not all of them. All seemed well as he grew into adulthood...that was until the Ben-Hassarath came. Karam was not surprised. She always knew they would never give up the search for her...but they didn't know of her son. She ordered Saar to run. Saar refused to leave the only person who cared about him. He would use his magic to protect her. Karam would not hear it. Despite abandoning her people, the principles of the Qun were still apart of her. The Qun demanded her death. Saar was born outside the Qun; the principles did not apply to him. She knocked her son out, and left their cottage to meet her fate.When Saar awoke the next morning, his mother was gone, the Ben-Hassarath were gone, and he was alone. His mourning was aggressive. He wandered from town to town, causing fights, dabbling in vices, committing petty crimes. Still, he always repressed his magic. It wasn't until one night when he nearly became possessed by a demon of rage, did Saar realize how he was shaming his mother's sacrifice. Using both the principles of the Qun, and his mother's wisdom, he tempered himself, becoming the man his mother gave him the chance to be.He could never have a normal life. The magic and horns saw to that. The only option he had was the option most Tal-Vashoth took: mercenary work. It took time, establishing a name for himself, evading the Templars, and trying to keep one step ahead of the Ben-Hassarth, but Saar managed to settle into the life of a mercenary. His appearance was frightening enough to scare most enemies, and his Qunari strength and magic made him a force to be reckoned with. Now, he wonders Thedas, seeking a living and trying to make his mark on the world.

1. Micah2. Amanda3. M. Blake4. Kira5. Patrick

It was the wee hours of the night when Thomas Riker walked quietly through the rear courtyard of the Troi Mansion in the warm balmy Betazed air. He quietly opened the back door of the main house, silently ascended the stairs and now stood outside Deanna's bedroom door weighing his options; to walk in and let her know he was there or go back down to the Guest House, keep his blocks in place and continue to avoid her. He'd been working hard for Section 31 as well as SID and had been in dire need of some shore leave. He'd collected a very large number of days and had taken Lwaxana up on her offer of respite and assistance. Thomas had come to Betazed for a breather and perhaps to learn how to heal some old wounds that just didn't quite seem to want to be rehabilitated and now one of those wounds lay sleeping on the other side of the closed door.  Neither he nor Lwaxana were aware Deanna would show up unannounced to spend some leave time with her mother; she'd arrived earlier that evening just as the sky had darkened. He lounged, cloaked in darkness in the courtyard looking at the stars in the sky when she unexpectedly arrived. He'd been there three weeks and if he'd of known Deanna was coming he would have made alternate plans. He kept all his walls in place, sat quietly shrouded in darkness while listening to Deanna tell her mother about his brother Will. He was unprepared for the physical agony he felt as Deanna spoke of Will not healing as fast as he should from his minor mishap on their latest away mission and how Will felt it would be nice if Deanna took a small vacation and visit her mother for a few weeks.  How he longed for it to be him she spoke of, him that she loved, craved, desired, him that she wanted in bed holding her and loving her. But it was Will she wanted, it always had been Will and it always would be. It wasn't often a woman had wanted Thomas for himself and not a substitute for William Riker and although both men shared so many similarities they were so very different and that included the sex department.  It had been pounded into him so often over the years that at times Thomas, himself believed and considered himself to be the left overs, the sloppy seconds, the dispensable one. Yet inside; his soul cried to be wanted, needed, desired...loved for the man who he was and the individual he'd worked so hard to become. In order for her not to know he was there for the time being he had to keep his mental block up as long as he could to shield him from her. He wasn't about to let her know he was here until he was damned good and ready.  He took it as a small sign that maybe; just maybe, she wanted to be with him once again. Although Thomas' rational side realized this was ridiculous to even think of such a thing, but he held onto some sort of hope as his mind went back to those two gloriously intense weeks they'd spent together getting reacquainted after his discovery and rescue from Nervala IV. Making love to and with her made him realize he was still very much a desirable man but then it all came crashing down on top of him; she'd decided to stay on the Enterprise, with Will, and it broke his heart but he refused to show it. Now here he stood just outside her bedroom door contemplating letting her know he was here and alive and that if she wanted to talk he was here for her. Thomas sighed and flinched slightly as he heard the Troi Matriarch speak, "Thomas stop yo-yoing and decide what you're going to do, those turbulent emotions of yours are giving me a headache, just go on in or go back to bed. Make up your mind dear boy; I'd like to get some sleep tonight." Thomas' mouth fell open, "I'm sorry Mrs. Troi. I didn't mean to disturb you.  I didn't realize...I mean I thought..." She flamboyantly waved her hand at him, "Oh Thomas when will you learn. You'll have to be much stronger with your blocking abilities when it comes to me. For Deanna and other Betazoids you're perfectly fine but it takes so much more to block me." With that she turned and went back into her room but not before whispering a word of caution to him. "Be careful Thomas, you're vulnerable and she's needy right now so keep those lusty thoughts to yourself." Thomas rolled his eyes as he exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he was holding in, reached for the door handle and quietly pushed it open, his choice had been made.  He stood, motionless, just inside the door; the moonlight casting a soft glow upon her porcelain skin allowing him to watch her as she slumbered, and she was as beautiful as she'd ever been. His heart was pounding hard in his chest and a lump had formed in his throat as he watched her chest rise and fall.  With his mental blocks in place he approached her quietly stopping when his thighs touched the edge of her bed.  He resisted the urge to kiss her, choosing instead to reach out and softly move a lock of her dark hair from her face. Thomas rarely, if ever made mistakes and he'd just made a doozy as he whispered oh so softly, "Deanna, come be with me. Imzadi I love you, I've always loved you, and I love you still."  He realized his error and swiftly backed away making it just outside her door as she sat up and looked around. His heart fell as she spoke with confusion in her voice. "Oh my Gods, Will, Imzadi, my love?" the last thing he saw was her pushing the covers from her slender beautiful body and sliding out of bed. Thomas swallowed the lump down as he swiftly walked away from her door; silent tears falling from his beautifully sad blue eyes, completely unaware that Lwaxana heard and felt the entire exchange as she stood at the end of the darkened corridor with tear filled eyes and a burning ache within her soul for the man whom she'd come to adore like a son, for the man who had had far too much heartache for any one person in one lifetime, for the man who'd never truly gotten a decent break in his life, he always seemed to come up short, for the man who was utterly broken, for the man who seemed to think he meant nothing and he truly believed what he'd told her the first night he was there; that he felt like he wasn't worth a thing to anyone and to him he was for all intents and purposes unwanted, unneeded and  unloved by the one person he could and would never truly ever be able to live without but had somehow learned to adapt because if he didn't he'd slowly drive himself insane. Thomas Riker certainly was an intensely demonstrative, passionate sort but Lwaxana too knew him to be a very precarious, dangerous man. There were two people who would feel the devastating, overwhelming power and extent of the pain he carried within him this night. For Lwaxana's part she truly realized the magnitude of the agony Thomas Riker was carrying with him. She heard his quiet hiccups as he nearly ran through the upper hallway, rushed down the steps as fast as his feet could take him and left the way he entered the Mansion. For Lwaxana's part she had moved to the upper hall window and watched Thomas as he stopped in the grass and looked upward raising his fisted hands to the sky silently cursing whatever Deity he believed in before he dropped to the ground, wrapped his arms around his head and muffled his scream before he stood and ran off full speed into the night sans shirt and footwear.  She knew he no longer cared nor wanted to keep his mental shields up to protect Deanna from his emotions and to keep her from knowing he was there. Lwaxana understood Thomas need to have Deanna feel every ounce of pain he'd felt over the many years of feeling like he was just a substitute, merely excess, expendable baggage. Lwaxana leaned against the open window listening to his distant animalistic pain filled cries break through the night air as well as her heart.  Lwaxana had taught him well in the weeks he'd been there, the force of which he shouted into Deanna's mind jolted her as well. For Deanna it took this night to understand, to comprehend, just how her actions had facilitated in scarring him for the rest of his life. She walked over to the open doors of her balcony and saw him plainly in the bright moonlight. He looked every bit the beautiful man she'd just parted with, for several weeks' of shore leave, on the Enterprise. Although, for all the physical attributes that were the same, the emotional and mental aspects were far different; splintered, fragmented, loud and wounded. She crossed her arms and raised a hand to her lips whispering his name, "Thomas..." as she watched the large man drop to his knees and bleed out his soul in a blood curdling scream before standing and running off into the night dressed only in a pair of pajama pants, her eyes filled with moisture as she heard his desperate cries in the aired Betazed night and her heart broke knowing she had helped do this to him. It was Thomas in her room speaking to her as she slept peacefully and she now knew he'd heard her call another man's name at Thomas' declaration of love to her. That part of his suffering was caused by her loving someone else and not looking for him when he was lost to the universe and more importantly, lost to himself. She could feel how dreadfully alone he truly felt he was and her heart and mind reached out to him only to be shoved forcefully back at her full force as she'd done with him so many years ago. She heard his screaming pleas, they were a mixture of pain and rage, in her mind, she recoiled at the strength of his thought casting and the strength of his conviction and her tears began to fall. Thomas yelled at the top of his lungs as he ran, he didn't know how far he'd ran before he stopped and leaned against a tree gasping for breath with tears rolling down his cheeks, that's when he felt Deanna enter his mind like soft, gentle tendrils caressing him, attempting to soothe him. He was angry at her for daring to do so and he vented his rage and his pain verbally before he cast to her. He didn't care if anyone else could focus enough on his pain and rage, just as long as she could hear him loud and clear. <<<NO! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT! GET...OUT....OF...MY...HEAD!  I LOVE YOU!  .... I HATE YOU! GO BACK TO HIM! YOU NEVER LOVED ME, YOU USED ME THE ENTIRE TIME I WAS THERE! LEAVE....ME...ALONE!   GO AWAY! >>> He turned and punched the tree so hard he'd broken his hand and he was certain she'd feel his physical pain as well, but he simply didn't care anymore. He cradled his broken hand closely as he sunk to the ground and leaned up against the tree he'd just hit.  A sheen of sweat covered his muscular upper body, tears streaked his bearded face, and he didn't even bother to wipe anything off. There were soft howling moans coming from deep within his chest, the pain almost too much for him to bear but he'd lived before he'd live with it again. "Damn you, damn you, damn you." He whimpered under his breath.  Thomas couldn't be seen, he was covered by the blackness, but he realized he most certainly could be heard by any Betazoid who wished to take a peek into his sordid, disjointed mind. All but a few would tune him out and honestly in some sadistic way he wanted Deanna to feel all the ugly, aggrieved emotions he'd held inside for so long.  Thomas had worked hard to try and repair his traumatized psyche. He'd only recently started to come to grips that he actually needed help to attempt to heal some of the damage that a lifetime of trauma had created and now with the aid of Lwaxana Troi he was attempting to work on it but perhaps, he thought painfully, it was all just merely in vain. 

Roleplay Preferences and GuidelinesRevisedWELCOME TO HISTORICAL VANNIN VERSE  1.     ALL ADDS ON A TRIAL BASIS 2.     Zero tolerance for status stream whining and threats that you are deleting or will be cleaning out friends list. I simply do that routinely without the negative attention seeking drama. 3.     Zero tolerance for OOC drama---period. 4.     I DO NOT send starters. If that poses a problem do not add me. 5.     No mirrors. Crossovers welcomed. 6.     Do not attempt SL with me if you have a running SL with another person who plays same canon character as I do. I will return the favour. 7.     I work a demanding full-time job. I check in on weekdays and do most of my active roleplay on weekends. 8.     I reserve the right to profile hop as I have many profiles of various verses/genres. I get bored and need roleplay options. 9.     Do not take any of the edits in my albums. 10.       All writing is intellectual property. 11.       Respect my privacy and time and I will return the favour.12. I delete mutes. 13. Para to Multi Para length please. I DO NOT SIGN RULES!!!! Thank you for your interest in roleplaying with me.RV

Fact: She once struggled with anorexia nervosa.Reflection:Once upon a time, there lived a family with more wealth than love.  Christina and David Collins decided to have a baby simply because the rest of their friends had done so, and it was considered the "in" thing to have that special pregnancy glow.  From the moment she was born, Whitney was treated as more of a nuisance than anything.  Her parents doted on her for five seconds out of her life; for the rest, she was with the nanny of the week while her mother pored over her magazines and her father practically lived in his office.  When her parents did encounter her, it was only to pay her credit card bills, or, in her mother's case, to tell her whatever she had done wrong in that particular moment.  She was always too stupid, too lazy, or, her mother's favorite dagger, too fat.Eventually, as she entered puberty, Whitney developed anxiety and anorexia nervosa.  She would go days without eating more than a few handfuls of goldfish.  Only when the pain of her stomach eating itself would she choke a few bites down.  Eventually, her grandmother realized what was going on and paid for the best therapy.  Whitney recovered slowly, but her relationship with her parents continued to deteriorate.  One day, scarcely a few weeks after she had finished therapy, Whitney had entered yet another fight with her mother.  Her mother screamed that all of the chocolate was gone, and declared it was no wonder Whitney was so fat (despite her daughter being a lovely size two).  Her father had stood there dumbly, and suddenly stated that they would be going to family dinner, whether she wanted to or not.Whitney complained from the backseat as they merged onto the highway.  As her mother continued to criticize, Whitney lost her temper and screamed that she hated her parents and wished they were dead. And then..in a flash, she was waking up in the hospital with a concussion.  Her grandmother informed her that a truck had slammed into her father trying to merge into their lane. The other driver and her parents were dead instantly, and Whitney only survived because the backseat was untouched.  From that moment on, Whitney blamed herself, believing that she had jinxed it somehow, and caused their deaths.  She had never really forgiven herself.Even now, as she pulled out of her memory and looked around her enormous bedroom, Whitney couldn't shake her guilt.  She looked at the bowl of chocolates beside her and grimaced, pushing it away. But then...screw it. She knew now that she was anything but fat. Her fear of food was in the past, and that delicious Hershey kiss screamed at her. Whitney snatched it and unwrapped it.  If only her mother could see her now. Minus her swollen belly from her pregnancy, Whitney was more gorgeous than ever, and on top of the corporate ladder. She wasn't going to let anything bring her down.

New World Order 1New World Order 2

Hey everyone!I got bored so I decided I would post a little about the RL me.1. First off my name is Sarah.2. I'm 25 I'll be 26 this year.3. I currently have a slight obsession with Supernatural.4. I work full time right now.5. I don't have any kids but I have a lot of nieces and nephew.6. In my spare time I volunteer with, American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.7. love to write.8. I've been rping since I was 15 so that's 10 years now.9. I'm addicted to taking selfies lol10. I'm friends with alot of my connections in rl.Now to good the part here are a couple pictures of me.1. (Yes I bet Jensen and Jared)2.--The girl behind Aria.

<a href="https://www.roleplayer.me/view_profile.php?member_id=390125" target="_self"><img src="https://i.imgur.com/Th47mnh.gif" border="0"></a><a href="https://www.roleplayer.me/view_profile.php?member_id=390125" target="_self"><img src=" https://i.imgur.com/9TzLiOe.gif" border="0"></a><a href="https://www.roleplayer.me/view_profile.php?member_id=390125" target="_self"><img src=" https://i.imgur.com/m31yEQQ.gif" border="0"></a><a href="https://www.roleplayer.me/view_profile.php?member_id=390125" target="_self"><img src=" https://i.imgur.com/WlnIfXy.jpg" border="0"></a>

Misha the Heavy Weapons Guy, or The Heavy for short. The powerhouse of the teufort nine is capable of taking and dishing out quite a lot of punishment. He is not to be underestimated. Don't mess with him. He hates people.StrengthCasually carries around and fires Sasha the minigun, his primary weapon. She weighs 150kg, or 330 pounds. Video source. He does not need to set the gun down to fire it like some baby man, but he is limited to shooting from the hip.Hurts Ms. Pauling (accidentally?) just by nudging her.BEAR SUPLEXTakes on an adult Siberian Brown Bear, who are, in the TF2-verse, apparently at least 12 feet tall (probably? that bear didn't stay the same size from panel to panel at all) and capable of heavily damaging airplanes just by stepping on them. Note that Heavy does this sort of thing regularly. He taught his sisters to hunt bear with their, ahem, bare hands. In fact his family hates bear meat because theyeat it so darn often.Uses Scout as a handle in a tug of war match with Mags and holds Scout at a stalemate with her. Mags is capable of keeping up with Saxton Hale and as such, can casually destroy any wildlife known to man.Busts down a reinforced door protecting the intel.Holds open Blast Doors for a small amount of time.NON-CANON With Uber, STOPS A FUCKING TRAIN. Well, he derails it anyhow. Which is almost the same.NON-CANON Words fail me.DurabilityUnfortunately Heavy is barely ever attacked in the comics, so there isn't a whole lot to go off of here.Leaps down multiple stories, making a noticeable impact and 'TOOM' when he lands.NON-CANON Here we go: Survives a train crashing directly into him. The uber runs out about a half second after the initial impact.Owner of an extra-powerful Mega Baboon heart. However, he is apparently missing a rib.In-game Capable of taking multiple direct hits from soldier's rocket launcher and surviving.Fighting AbilityEscapes from a Soviet Gulag with his family three months after he arrived. It is implied he is the one that killed all the guards.Fights this big bear apparently without suffering a scratch. Ignore that box saying the bear 'killed every last one of them'. That's a segue into another scene.Kills like, a gajillion soldiers while he's ubercharged.IntelligencePeople think the Heavy is stupid because he speaks slowly and English is his second language. Actually, nothing could be further from the truth.He has a Ph. D in Russian Literature.He divines the true purpose of a mission Ms. Pauling sent them on before they even arriveTricks Saxton Hale when he asks who sent them. Granted, fooling Saxton Hale is not a difficult task.The SandvichThis strange food apparently somehow empowers the eater. In-game, it restores all of Heavy's health. In it's introduction video, it allows Heavy to fight off two other mercs, break soldier's spine, and somehow punch all of Scout's blood out of his body.

      Everyone has different methods, and they all can work.  So this post is not meant to be the gospel on roleplay; in fact, far from it.  If you write and roleplay well (the two are not the same, but the latter depends on the former) then read no further.  Skedaddle.  Shoo!  Go off and do that roleplay thing! But if you struggle from time to time, or think you might benefit from some pointers, what follows may help, just perhaps.  The focus of Into the Night is multi-character group roleplay, but the suggestions herein also apply, in large part, to one-on-one roleplay.  Because we may not get everything right, we encourage you the reader to chime in below with your comments, criticisms, and suggestions for improving this writing/role play guide. So you have decided to engage one or more role players in a story.  A starter has been sent to you, or one has been posted on a blog or forum.  The first question for you should be, is it my turn to post?  If it's one-on-one, the answer is easy.  If several role players are involved, then not so much.  Did that first post mention others in the scene?  Or could others be lurking in the shadows, unseen and unspoken?  Unless that first post directed a question to your character, or explicitly said no one else is present in the scene, you might want to coordinate via messages with the other involved role players to decide who goes next.  Or, give it a couple of days, and if no one else posts, go for it.  Next, what goes into your post?  A variety of things need to be considered. For example, how bold should you be in moving the story along or initiating dramatic events?  How long should your post be?  How much description should you include? Let's start with your character, because in roleplay the character you play is your instrument panel in the story.  It empowers you to influence and change events.  You know who you are better than anyone, so first and foremost, be true to your character.  We here at Into the Night usually have story leads that have some concept of where they want to take the story.  They likely have a plot, or the ravelings of one in mind.  But friends, the best stories are situational - in other words you start with a situation: like the protagonist finds out the world is ending in 16 hours, or while perusing a newspaper in a diner, Sam Winchester learns of a series of gruesome murders with uncanny and likely supernatural causes.  The characters then respond to that situation based on their personalities, weaknesses, and strengths.  To do otherwise creates inconsistencies that will bite you in the butt later. You can tell your story lead that, too, if he or she wants your character to act in a way that is out of character.  Next, think about context. Read that first post (or the previous several posts if you're well into a story) to tease out location, is it day or night, is it the present or some time in the past or future, is the moon shining or is it a cloudy day, yada, yada.  Pay attention to the other characters as well.  Are they dressed or acting in a way that is insightful (e.g. they are bloodied and exhausted or look as fresh as daisies).  You should carry forward all those contextual details into your post, and please, elaborate on them, if you wish.  Your writing should include enough description so the reader can visualize the scene, but not so much that all the details are provided.  Letting the reader fill in the unwritten details for him or herself draws them in, zones them into the story, and that's exactly where you want them to be.  They become a participant when they paint in the details of the mind picture that is the stage for the story. And remember, for you to describe that stage - the context within which the characters act out the story - first you have to visualize it for yourself, and then put that vision to words.  As a part of that putting-to-words process, tickle the senses a little.  Describing the context of a scene can and often should include sights, smells, touch, sounds, and/or taste.  Songs playing on a jukebox, the smell of wood smoke, what it feels like to swing a broadsword - all of those sorts of things can provide texture to your post.   Mentioning brand names of everyday items (Dos Eques, Coca Cola, Crisco, whatever), stores we're all familiar with (e.g. Walgreens, Safeway, Ace Hardware), the names of songs, etc. also help to anchor the story in reality. We all can visualize those things, and they help paint that mind picture for the reader.  Use of metaphors is another fun and very productive way to set a mood.  If used properly, metaphor can also thinly veil a theme or underlying message that becomes important down the road in the story.  Finally, the setting - the temporal and spatial context - should complement what's happening in the story, and help set a concordant if not synergistic mood.  No need to go overboard with description, but don't underplay it either.  Every post should move the story forward.  But "forward" motion can be in terms of plot, character development (including relations between or among characters), and or description.  The best posts do at least a little of all three.  In multi-character stories, particularly ones with a bunch of characters in a scene, having your character post every now and then just to remind the others that you're still there can be a good thing, and such posts can be relatively short with maybe just a little forward motion.  Alternatively, if a few characters are dominating a scene, those doing the talking should probably mention the other silent characters, so the reader doesn't forget they're there (it becomes a contextual thing).  If you really want to draw someone out, have your character ask the silent partner a question, and then message that character's role player to kick 'em in the butt and get them to post. And what about a dramatic step forward in plot or character development?  For instance, you might post that suddenly a horde of demons comes smashing through the windows and attacks.  Maybe in said attack a role-played character gets killed off.  Or, in a gentle and romantic moment, out of the blue, one character expresses his or her love for another.  Should you be that bold in a story?  Absobloodylutely!  What makes stories interesting are unexpected events, high drama, and particularly, how characters interact with one another.  But... don't act so boldly without either knowing that your one-on-one partner won't mind, or in the case of group roleplay, you have coordinated with your story lead and fellow role players in the scene.  Killing someone off without asking their permission first is the height of bad roleplay etiquette.  Which brings us to "god-modding" - animating someone else's character in your post.  In other words, speaking for another role-played character or having them act.  A little god-modding is usually tolerated, such as saying someone looked your way, or perhaps you're all doing battle with those demons that crashed through the window - it's ok to say someone else is kicking ass or helped you or something.  Just don't go into the specifics.  An exception to the no god-modding rule is if you have talked with that other role player and they're ok with you god-modding them. How long should your post be?  Don't worry about matching the length of someone else's post.  It isn't about the number of words, it's about saying what needs to be said to move the story forward with adequate attention to context, plot, and character development.  So if you've followed the advice above, your post will be long enough.  Remember, the longest post doesn't win, it's the one that moves the story forward in a way the leaves the reader begging for more.  That said, if your posts are consistently way longer or shorter than other posts in a story, it's a clue that maybe you should give some further thought to the content of your posts.  Ok, so maybe you're capable of weaving a storyline with other role players, and you're down with context, description, and character development.  But can you write?  We see a lot of people on rp.me who have trouble putting a sentence together, let alone a paragraph or a story.  If you've graduated from high school and you still can't write, chances are you'll never be a good writer.  Sorry, that's the hard truth.  In some ways writing is an innate skill.  You either have the talent or you don't.  If you don't, it's hard to get much better.  But everyone can improve, and here are a few tips for you. We see a lot of people on rp.me who write god-awful run-on sentences.  If your character is prone to long monologues sans a period (Winifred Burkle in the Angelverse does that quite eloquently) then go for it.  If not, don't do it.  If you don't know what makes a sentence a sentence, look it up.  Following up on item 1, most word processing programs detect spelling and grammatical errors.  Assuming you compose your posts in one of these programs (you should, see below), then don't ignore what the program is telling you.  Fix those errors.  We also recommend Grammarly - an editing program.  There's a free version - https://www.roleplayer.me/view_blog.php?id=0000280443.  Now, in creative writing, it's ok to violate grammatical rules from time to time or even invent words (as long as the reader will know what you mean) - it's a way of being playful with the language.  You can also play with sentence structure provocatively.  For instance, Ray Bradbury (and William Shakespeare before him) titled his 1962 fantasy/horror novel 'Something Wicked This Way Comes', instead of 'Something Wicked Comes This Way'.  But be careful.  We don't recommend engaging in this sort of playfulness unless your writing is otherwise pretty much flawless.  If your writing is not very good, these playful departures will just look like more mistakes.  Write in 3rd person past tense, unless everyone in your story agrees to do otherwise. Please don't post in a story as if you're texting your friends.  Capitalize the first letter of a sentence, proper nouns, and adjectives derived from proper nouns.  Don't use 'i' for 'I'. We prefer for role players to use double quotation marks to surround the dialogue of their character.  If your character is quoting someone else, that quote should be surrounded by single quotation marks. The first sentence of your post should catch your reader's attention.  A way to do that is to begin with the unusual, the unexpected, an action, or a conflict.  It's good, but not always possible or appropriate, to start off with tension and immediacy. Paragraphs should describe a single topic.  The first one or two sentences should state a premise or concept with the remainder of the paragraph backing that up with facts, or elaborating in some way.  A paragraph may also be dialogue from a single character.  If you look back at your writing and most paragraphs start with 'Angelus (or whatever the name of your character is) does...', 'Angelus says...', 'Angelus kicked...' or whatever, you're doing it incorrectly or at least in an excruciatingly boring manner. Suppress adverbs but indulge your inner adjectives and adjective clauses.  "Smirk" is one of the most overused/misused verbs/nouns of all time in roleplay, and with few exceptions, is a sign of poor writing ability, especially if it occurs more than once in a post.  Just sayin, folks.  Unless you are a superb writer, ditch it. Use commas sparingly. If you can't find the right word, make generous use of a thesaurus (e.g. www.thesaurus.com).  In fact, a good thing to do during editing is to find better descriptive words, and a thesaurus is a good place to search for them.  Editing may also reveal that you're repeating words a lot.  You don't want to do that if possible, and a thesaurus can help you find replacements with the same or similar meanings.  End your post in a way that provides a lead-in for the next role player.  Give them something into which they can sink their teeth.  READ.  That's right, to be a good writer you have to read a whole bunch.  And read some of those novels/short stories/essays analytically, noting how the author constructs a paragraph, how they write dialogue, and describe a scene.  Pick out what you like and emulate it.  On the flip side, make note of what you don't like and shun it.  You can learn from both good writing and bad writing. Finally, never, never, never just compose and write in the comment/blog/message box on this site and then post it.  No one, not even a professional writer, is good enough to do that and have the post be top-notch.  Write your post out in Word or whatever program you use, or even write it out long hand.  But before you do that, you may benefit from jotting down a few notes or even scribbling out a short outline.  Then write.  A nice way to start is the stream-of-consciousness/Jack Kerouac method in which you just write as fast as you can, spilling out onto the page until you're done.  What results will probably be a mess from the perspective of technique, but the basic elements of what you need to say will be there (hopefully).  Then go back and really do the writing, working on sentence and paragraph structure, spelling, and grammar, and fleshing out description and context.  After that, edit your writing.  Once it looks pretty good to you, set it aside for an hour and come back and edit it again.  After letting it sit you will see errors and nonsensical elements you didn't notice the first time around.  You don't have to Jack Kerouac it, but in any case, write, edit, edit again, (and maybe again) and then post it.  Dean Koontz, one of the best horror/suspense writers around, edits each page of a manuscript 30-40 times. Volumes more could be included here about writing, but that's probably enough for now.  Friends, we certainly don't want to bore you to tears (sometimes a problem with novella or super-novella posts).  In closing, and we've said it before, but Stephen King's 'On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft' is a swell reference.  If you yearn for more on how to improve your writing, definitely check it out. Now, in the comments below, you all can add your own two cents.  Insert your own tips, tell us we're full of crap, point out grammatical errors in this post, whatever.  Go for it. 

Metropolis AULois Lane-Kristin KreukSuperman/Clark Kent-Matt Bomer/Grant GustinLex Luthor-Mark StrongJimmy Olsen-Colton HaynesGeneral Zod-Christopher EccelstonBrainiac-Bryan CranstonBatman CharactersBruce Wayne-Ben AffleckSelina Kyle-Dita Von TeeseTim Drake-Joseph Gordon LevittDick Grayson-Ian SomerhadlerCassandra Cain-Krisitn KreukStephanie Brown-Candice AccolaBarbara Gordon-Jessica ChastainJason Todd-Jensen AcklesJoker-Jared LetoHarley Quinn-Margot RobbieAU Batwoman and RobinRebecca Wayne-Erica DuranceDiane Grayson-Kristin KreukNinja TurtlesApril O'Neil-Kristin KreukCasey Jones-CM PunkShredder-Ken WattanbeMarvel RPJubilee-Kristin KreukX23-Kristin Kreuk

 Thor ~Emperor of Asgard~ EOA "You had a much better life on Asgard than you would have ever had in this miserable place. It is only your own fault that you cannot see this." Now in front of Loki, Thor struck him on the bridge of the nose with an open palm thrust for the specific purpose to snap his head back. Thor them grabbed the clothing on Loki's chest with his left hand gripping Loki's shoulder with his right slamming a hard knee into his gut. When Loki doubled over, Thor shoved him backwards towards the edge of a large section of the ground that had broken away creating a black pit that went down for miles. "I wish it would not have come to this, Brother, but you leave me no choice."SAY...MY...NAME!.....EOA Slowly Loki lifted his head, the bitter metallic taste of his own blood, fresh within his mouth from the wound upon his nose. " I did you a favor..." he smirked vindictively looking up from under his brow towards Thor. Slowly standing up straight, Loki extended his arms at his side, empty palms spread ready for the thrust he knew was surely coming with his Brother's retaliation of disgust." Go home Thor...Tell Father how you bested me... The Monster people tell their kids about! ....How you saved the day for Asga...!"  Loki's words were cut short as the impact of Mjolnir  instantly thrust him backwards. The wind whipped about his body. The cold stark daylight of Jotunheim fading smaller and smaller. Rock and ice slowly giving way till only darkness remained. A gradual glow getting brighter , at the end of his plummeting tunnel. The lure of a whispered promise. Slowly the smirk spread once again across Loki's face and he spread his arms ready to greet the brightness of the light,  finding peace it the warmth of its caressing touch as it surrounded him..............Darkness.................* You might not like what you see-  Be warned!   My Bulletins will have an 18+ Warning & will contain, Graphic horror, violence and possible sex content- (All for forth coming SL purposes)- DO NOT TAKE THIS TO HEART (it's still me beneath it all- winks)

Happy Birthday Harmony. Jenna wrote on the banner in big bold purple letters. After, planing this for a few days the day had come to celebrate Harmony's Birthday. The food, music, gifts and games were all set up. Everyone enjoy!                            Gifts:For the guest:

Rules: 1. I am not the person in the photos so don't ask if I am. Its an rp site. No more nor less. Respect that and we will get along just fine. The character is more based on a show but somewhat by the comic too. The character isn't real and the celebrity is too busy so yeah.2. I am here to rp and not to collect friends. So keep that in mind.3. I am multi  para rper and up but will rp with anyone. Respect that and keep that in mind.4. Jane is single but when she is taken she will be faithful. She is bisexual but is more in to guys lately then girls. Remember that.5.Don't judge me or my character as I won't judge you or your character. Just be respectful and I will do the same. Don't be rude and expect me to be nice to you as it won't happen unless you  are nice and kind to me. No exceptions.6.Don't just request me or accept my friend request and then ignore me as that isn't right nor kind. As  I said I am not a number but an rper. If you pay attention to everyone else on your friend list you can do that to with me too  if you can talk to everyone on your list then you can talk and rp with me too. If you are busy and can't talk to anyone or you come check and leave, that is fine but not ignoring for good. Keep that in mind.That's all for now. Will add more if I think of more. Follow those and we will get along. Other wise you will be deleted.1.I am not the person in the photos. So don't ask