i am literally the worst rper in the land
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Janaina Medeiros
hello vonnie
Misplaced Lens Cap
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Game of Thrones Daily

Kaledo Art

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YOU ARE THE REASON

#extradirty
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One Nice Bug Per Day
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blake kathryn

@theartofmadeline

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@godfrxy
i am literally the worst rper in the land
@godfrxy ; adult!roxanne starter.
  âKidâŠ?â At least, she thought he was someone younger than herself. Who knows? Teens were getting taller and taller each year. Roxanne stood at the base of the motel stairwell that lead up to the second floor balcony of the shoddy suites. He looked to well dressed to be wandering around a dump like the Pink Flamingo. Too youthful. âAre you lost?â Genuine care from her tone carried over the hum of the florescent lights that lit the establishment.Â
He hears her voice and he stops. Now, as he catches himself in the reflection of a window, he thinks he probably should have tried harder to blend in (but who was Roman Godfrey if not in Italian shoes and French suits) to a place like this. Itâs dingy. Damp walls. Something dead in the pool, probably. Thumb and index finger swipe at the corners of his lips, and he turns to her properly with a smile. âJust passing through. Why? Are you lost?â To pretty to be in a place like this, he could say back. Too short, too. No easy feat being pretty under fluorescent lights, harsh white. Sheâs older than he is (not hard), but that wouldnât stop him. Nothing looks good under those. Even him, he imagines. He wonders if he looks as tired as he had felt just an hour ago (pre-meal). âWhat can I say? Iâm a sucker for neon signs.â
hmu with things
OPEN;
âI need a fucking cigarette.â
H O R R O R . P R O M P T S
âI just got back from the cemetery.â
âI swear I just saw someone⊠or something looking in my window.â
âI know I closed the damn closet door, but it keeps opening! Please tell me this is just some kind of joke you keep pulling.â
âWhatâs behind you in these picturesâŠ?â
âApparently like 20 years ago, some girl slaughtered her family in the basement.â
âI think thereâs something about this house that youâre not telling me.â
âI keep hearing noises coming from the atticâŠâ
âI know what I saw, and whatever is in the basement⊠itâs not human!â
âI didnât have time to see what it was! I just got the hell out of there!â
âWhose grave were you bringing flowers toâŠ?â
âThe electricity guy said there was absolutely nothing wrong â and yet, the lights always flicker on at 2am. Explain that to me?â
âWhy donât you spend the night in that house âaloneâ, then try to convince me that you donât believe in ghosts.â
âY-you donât understand, he didnât have a face!â
âI had a dream that I killed you.â
âAh, yes⊠the room youâre staying in. Itâs a paranormal hot spot, apparently.â
âI keep hearing whispers at night⊠I-I canât sleep!â
âThere was something else in there with me, Iâm not going back to that house.â
âCome on, itâs just an urban legendâŠâ
âAre you trying to tell me Iâve been sleeping in a dead girlâs room!?â
"I keep getting the feeling that someone is following me.â
âDonât panic⊠but I think thereâs someone else in the house.â
âI can still feel her/his ghost, and itâs killing meâŠâ
âThereâs something growling in the basement⊠could you, uh⊠check it out for me?â
âCan you just⊠can you please check the closet?â
âP-please⊠put the knife down.â
âI bought this haunted ring on eBay!â
âNo, no, no â run!â
"I didnât forward one of those freaky chain letters and now I keep hearing the laughter of children coming from my hallways at night.â
âThe dead are all around usâŠâ
âSheâs dead! Sheâs dead and yet I keep seeing her, everywhere!â
âThereâs something breathing under the bedâŠâ
"You canât tell me you donât believe in ghosts after all weâve been through.â
âI saw something I wasnât supposed to see, something⊠that wasnât supposed to be here.â
âMaybe an exorcism is in orderâŠ?â
âI woke up, and it was j-just⊠staring at me.â
âHe was there, then like a second later he literally vanished! I saw it happen!â
âI like the ghosts here⊠they keep me company.â
"You canât honestly tell me youâre in love with a dead girl.â
âWasnât someone murdered in this house? Why are we here?â
âIf dying means being with him/her, kill me. Iâd be happier that way.â
âGhosts arenât real. You need help.â
ââŠwhat do you mean we didnât talk last night? You came over, you were here.â
âYou saw something you werenât supposed to see. And now⊠now you know what has to be done.â
âIâm pretty sure my toasterâs haunted.â
"Whatâs wrong with you? You look like youâve seen a ghost.â
âDonât! Donât you dare open that door!â
âI visited his/her grave for the first time todayâŠâ
âSomething terrible happened here, didnât it?â
âWh-why do you have a knifeâŠ?â
"Youâre all bloody, what happened!?â
âYou know that book from The Evil Dead? Yeah, well⊠Iâm pretty sure we found something pretty damn similar to it.â
âYouâre bleedingâŠâ
âHow can you not see itâŠ? Iâm dead! Iâve been dead for years!â
âIâve always wanted to see you choking on your own blood.â
âIâm sorry, Iâm busy Friday with the⊠funeral and all.â
âIâll never forget the sound of his screaming.â
âFrom the looks of it, the afterlife is a lot more fun than this.â
"Legend has it that you can still hear her crying for her lover in the dead of night.â
âI want to be dead, too.â
âWell donât you look lovely, all covered in blood.â
"Whoa â wait! Please donât go down there⊠letâs just get out of here, please?â
âYou played with a Ouija board!?â
âMe and some friends played with a Ouija board the other night⊠and things have been a little strange since then.â
âThereâs so much negative energy in this house⊠do you know if someone died here?â
âYouâre always hanging out in cemeteries⊠and yeah, itâs kinda creepy.â
"They just donât believe like they used toâŠâ
âI will haunt you until the end of time.â
the salty af munday meme
Because, like it or not, we're not all balls of sunshine all the time. We can be pure salt when we want to be.
â What does someone have to do for an instant unfollow from you?
â„ What's the WORST thing that has happened to you rp wise?
⊠What was a mildly annoying thing that has happened to you rp wise?
âą Has anyone ever tried to steal your blog? Your headcanons? Icons? All that jazz
â How many people don't like you?
â How many people do you not like?
âź Have you managed to stay away from drama?
â Have you ever been in the middle of drama?
⯠Have you ever tried to bring peace to a situation?
⌠How long do you stay mad?
â What's your rp pet peeve?
â Have you ever forgiven a partner when you shouldn't have?
â Have you ever been forgiven when you knew you shouldn't have been?
âą What fads/trends are you so over?
⣠Have you ever rp'd with someone you knew for a fact was abusive but tried to give them a chance/to make up your own opinion on the roleplayer? Did they change or did you understand what people were talking about?
âš Have you ever made a public call out post?
â What has made you completely lose your chill?
âż What do you think about public call out posts?
â A fandom that you feel isn't open and accepting?
â A fandom that you feel is open and accepting?
⊠Thoughts on duplicates following you?
â§ Do you agree with reblog karma or is it forced interaction?
â„ Has someone ever ruined an FC or character for you?
⊠Has someone been jealous of you?
â§ Have you ever been jealous of anyone?
â How has Tumblr RP changed since you started?
â Thoughts on the fandom you're currently rping in?
⣠How salty are you feeling right now?
OPEN;
âI need a fucking cigarette.â
yikes
@venemouslove
Roman comes down the stairs, a hand at his cheek. Itâs sore. He pads down, barefeet on marble, and into the kitchen. A cup of coffee, and then into the lounge. âItâs late. Shouldnât you be out whoring for someoneâs lunchbreak?â
âtotal shame that i couldnât have lived out my existence as a sideshow attraction.â narrowing ambers at him with a snippier tone than normalâ whatever. not like they were on the route of forming any sort of bond anyway and he looked like he could take it just fine. still, it bothers her how much she bristled at the concept. maybe itâs charlieâs death at herâŠhands. maybe itâs the mocking of a curse she couldnât control ro simply rid herself of. whatever it is, it got her good. âyou haveâŠno idea..â licking her lips in mild frustration. her little curse didnât just kill, it amplified her more baser instincts to use her powerâ a power she couldnât without killing her partner. âweâre witches, weâŠget by.â a vagues and easily interpreted phrase that she wouldâve done well not to employ.
âEasy money,â he says with a shrug, and a grin. The kind of shit-eating grin that only a man that has never had to answer for a thing in his life can have (or at least one that can happily forget the things heâs had to answer for). âOh yeah? Fine. Isnât there some kind of cosmic karma? Personal gain and all that kind of thing? Or is it just a free for all?â Of course heâs heard of them, heard everything about them, killer vagina, dead girl, or whatever, witches, yeah. Heâs come across those before. Not had a great experience with them if heâs entirely honest about it.
Art   ,  a world beyond her understanding  ,  how anyone could glance at paint  &  have emotions emerge and pulse was information yet to comprehend.   Did they glance and see differently  ,  was there something left unseen that could change her mind     ?    if so  ,  eyes could wander across each piece for days in hopes of finding.    Raw frustration growing in place of the concept  ,  was it possible  ?   was a detail missed  ,   brows furrowing tight.    Worries abandoned   ,  it seems the male took it upon himself to explain in great depth why her opinion was incorrect.      Tension lost as head turned to glance  ,  captivated by his speech  ,       impressed with the seemingly passionate words.Â
         â   I get it.   You think death is beautiful   ?   â    Smirk edging across ashen features  , once furrowed brows now lifted with amusement  ,   something about this one was different than strangers passed in busy streets    âââââââââââ     determined to figure this riddle out   &   to complete the puzzle.     â   Are you a murderer   ?   â     Mirth drenched words effortlessly   & thoughtlessly spoke without care for reactions or consequences.Â
He looks down at her, stares. Not quite a piece of art herself (though he supposes in some way thereâs beauty and art in everything, in the way the human body creates another). He looks at her face, he raised eyebrows, the amusement, and he wonders what she expects him to say. âYes.â Why not? It s the truth, in a way. He has killed. For sustenance. Is it considered murder? Does a lion murder the gazelle? He could kill for pleasure, perhaps he already has, but he hasnât thought about it, really, to think about it is to admit. He turns back to the artwork in front of them. âThe only piece worth buying, and it wonât last more than a week. Shame.â
She was honestly a little shocked that heâd agreed, but help was help. Maybe her luck was changing. She didnât get her hopes up too high though. It was after all just a phone call.
Her eyes had to move skyward when she was able to see him. He was tall. Tall and thin. Her eyes took a moment to leave his; something about him captivated her, something she couldnât quite out her finger on.
She forced her eyes away from him and crossed the threshold to his home. âThanks,â she said as she passed him.
The house was warmer than it looked. Not as cold and sterile as sheâd imagine from the outside. Although it wasnât entirely welcoming either. She rubbed her hands together to warm them faster as she walked through the entryway.
âWolves I can deal with,â she said offhandedly. âTree attack actually,â she said as she took in his place.
âCanât blame a shark when you enter its house,â he says by way of blaming her for her own misfortune. He closes the door behind her. A modern house need not be cold, nor sterile. His is warm, and slightly sterile, easier to keep clean, he thinks, of all sorts of nasties, and a nice way to keep people from staying too long. He watches her, then walks past and leads her to the phone. âWhere were you going?â
â Nah, Iâm fuckinâ busy. Ya ainât gonna buy, then thatâs up to ya. â
It wasnât as if he was being deliberately rude. Pfft, nah, he was, but not because of anything superficial like some tool hanging out in an alleyway. He was simply just busy, balancing cash and drugs on his arms like some form of open recepticle. Just didnât have the patience.
Taking money from people poorer than himself, sometimes wealthier, was what he was here for, just so he can turn around, restock, pay his bills, and snort till he couldnât anymore. Wasnât here to cater to anyone but himself and if this guy wanted some kind of special treatment, then he came to the wrong place. Kid might not be a professional, but he wasnât a stranger to monsters.
â If ya gonna stand there twiddlinâ ya thumbs, then couldja not stare at me? â Ugh.
Roman kisses his teeth, watches this guy, amused. He doesnât consider himself an addict, how would he? Highly-fuctioning is Roman Godfrey. And thereâs not a person in the world with any sense that would call him an addict, not if he doesnât. Is he an addict if he doesnât shake and scratch? (Yes.) Itâs a habit for him, not a necessity, he can stop if he wants to. âWhatâs it matter to you? Free country, buddy.â He keeps staring, more to irritate him than to satisfy anything in himself. But Roman wonders vaguely if he could get high chowing down on addicts.Â
@withalisp
âSo,â he says, laying on her bed, shoes hanging off the end â he doesnât quite fit. âYou have any dirt for me?â Itâs been a while, itâs been too long. Hemlock Grove has been too quiet â not that heâd swap that for the extensive list of tragedies over the last years. (Or would he?)
@cruentuscor
âDer FuÌhrerâs panties are in a bunch â want to go and poke the bear?â Probably not the best idea, but Roman was never, and never would be, the pioneer of good ideas when it come to Olivia. Sometimes, he supposes, people must think that at times he feels guilty, but he doesnât. Câest la vie!Â