south park, colorado

RP OPENED: 11.12.16 RP ESTABLISHED:10.20.16 RP REVAMPED: ??.??.17 This is a Skype role-play, based on the comedy TV show, South Park. We're always looking for new members to join in on the fun and writing. If you are interested in participating, you must be 17+. If so, feel free to apply after reading the rules! We accept on Wednesdays. For moblie users: mobile navigation.

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Esther J. Stoley

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Tumblr URL: fuckmitzvah   Timezone: cst (-600) Triggers: nah Secondary Character: n/a

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Muse’s name: Esther J. Stoley Age: 17. Birthday: April 30th. Height: 5'9" Sexuality: Heterosexual, probably. Occupation: Dance Instructor. Ballet Repertoire and Jazz Technique.

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The Stoleys are well known primarily for their son’s dedication to his hobbies, but the trait seems familial. While not one for Treks or Wars, Esther committed her time to something else: Dance. Diving in after her parents put her in a class at the mall on a lark, she took to it well. Upbeat hiphop is her style of choice, and although they sometimes comment on the nature of the dances, you couldn’t tear her away from it if you tried with Industrial Jaws of Life. Esther spends most of her time dancing– Whether it be on the school’s dance team, in her room quietly with headphones to block the noise for her sleeping family, or even at the Mall, where they know her very well and often let her use the Studios when they are otherwise closed. She’s not the odd duck out, as far as very serious hobbies are concerned, and has struck a careful balance with trying to please their ever-distant father and overwhelming mother.

Perhaps to further that point, Esther is a perfectionist. Terrifyingly so. Everything that could possibly in her control is, and there are no down days for her. Even on those rare days where she has a ‘lazy’ day, her sweatpants are carefully paired with an appropriately suited shirt, the strands of hair hanging from her loose bun are perfectly curated… In other words, she doesn’t actually know the meaning of the term ‘lazy’. To that end, all work that touches Esther’s hands is carefully polished and shined to be the best that she can offer. If it isn’t great, there’s a good chance she didn’t have anything to do with it, and if someone were to claim Esther helped without it meeting her exacting standards, there would be quite some Hell to pay. She doesn’t necessarily do this for any reason except it’s just how she ticks– Everything that must be done must be done to her excruciatingly exact standards, or else she just feels… Itchy. Like there are bugs crawling under her fingernails until she gets in there and fixes whatever needs done. It really is a hinderance. As you can imagine, it makes even the basic tasks like brushing her hair in the morning impossible.

Still, for all that, she’s just as quiet as the rest of the Stoleys, preferring to keep to herself or her brother in lieu of saying something. She’s not the best at reading people, having never gotten super deep into the whole ‘Girl Clique’ that involved manipulating boys and each other for sport. She gets along well enough with the girls, obviously, but she mostly stays quiet and reserved. That way, at least, she can let her actions speak for themselves– Those are much harder to misinterpret than a poorly-told joke or a backfired attempt at gossip. She was pretty bad at both of those things, anyway. Hanging out with Kevin was a much safer bet, and it was honestly what she was best at. After all, her brother didn’t get to judge her. They were blood. So suck it.

Unlike her brother, however, Esther doesn’t like space. It’s the same reason why she doesn’t like the ocean– It’s fucking terrifying. Everything about it! Wide, open spaces you could get lost in and no one would hear you scream as you die. Who even knows what’s out there! And Kevin can show her clip after clip of Kirk ripping his shirt off before diving into battle with some rock golems, and it doesn’t exactly help. She doesn’t besmirch him this hobby, obviously, and sometimes she’ll even watch it with him. She just… Maybe has some nightmares. And maybe needs Kevin to talk to her about some lighter space facts– Like even if there were aliens, the chances of them finding Earth was so slim because space was so huge. That was sort of a comforting thought. Also him offering to be abducted for her was a nice gesture, though she sort of doubted it worked that way.. Especially when movies like Alien exist which implies they’re just here to kill all humans, anyway. While space aliens scare her though, there are some things that she’s pretty nerdy about. For example, just as much as she hates Space, she loves Medieval Fantasy. Lord of the Rings, Princess Bride, Game of Thrones.. Honestly, if there are dragons in it and Kings and Queens, she’s there for it, 100%. She’ll read through all of the Tolkien books at least once a year, talking nonstop about the various races and twists the story takes. To that end, she also tries to play video games like Dragon Age. She’s pretty bad at it– All video games, actually, she’s pretty bad at– And she exclusively plays on ‘Casual’ mode. She loves doing it, sure, but she’s really garbage; Which would frustrate her so much if she knew even a little bit what she was doing and that she sucked. Maybe Esther knows that her leg twitching in a little kick every time enemies come near her isn’t exactly normal, but she also doesn’t seem to know how to stop it. Now it’s just a thoughtless twitch that happens whenever any sort of violence startles her. Or approaches completely announced.

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Perfect patterns paired with precise pallettes. She approaches the school at just the perfect time after another to have the door held open for her, without that pesky half-hearted attempt at a run to make herself feel better. Textbooks color coordinated with appropriate notebooks for diligent note taking, all the sizes matching up immaculately in the hand. Opening her locker on the first try. Esther lives for that feeling of when everything goes right. Nothing is to chance, each step a carefully choreographed move of smiles and sliding through the general throng of teenage hormones and groggy, sleepless youth. It isn’t a chore– Not when she would do it anyway, had to do it anyway. But it’s a responsibility she enjoys, just as much as she enjoys the way her pen clicks in her hand or the way her feet slide across a perfectly polished floor. It’s a normal day for Esther. School, practice, work, practice, home, practice, sleep. A careful routine that she lives to keep and loves every moment. Intimidating to some, sure, all thick thighs and long hair, some statuesque cliche of a model dancer– But that has never mattered. Still doesn’t, even as she feels the careful, raking glances of her peers and friends. They can look, they’ll find nothing left wanting. They never do. So she smiles, a carefully practiced, fluid motion showing just enough teeth and not too much gum, eyes bright as she settles at her locker and carefully spun the dial. Another perfect open on the first perfect try. “So how are we today?” She says brightly, raising her eyebrow at the gaggle of girls. It didn’t take much to have them fill her in. Esther had her spot in the hierarchy of the school, and she was honestly glad for it. Just one less thing for her to think of in the morning.

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accept my beautiful daughter pls

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Henrietta Biggle

MUN INFORMATION

Nickname: Heather Age: 26 Tumblr URL: faded-smiles Timezone: CST Triggers: Salty garbage. Seriously, none! (: Secondary Character: Mike Makowski

MUSE INFORMATION 

Muse’s name: Henrietta Biggle Age: 17 Birthday: March 7 Height: 5’4” Sexuality: Pansexual Occupation: Student/Etsy seller Headcanons: ✞ Henrietta only buys cruelty-free makeup. Her favorite brand is Urban Decay. With humanity being cruel enough as it is, she doesn’t believe in testing makeup on animals for corporate gains. ✞ She is still overweight. She has been ever since the third grade. Even though her and Bradley ate the same food growing up, she was cursed with having a slow metabolism. She sometimes gives into emotional eating, but not as much as people would suspect. She tells herself that she’d rather be the way she is. She doesn’t want to conform to Barbie doll beauty standards. However, she does have insecurities about her weight, which she hates, as it shows how society’s ideals have affected her. As a result, she always wears black dresses that flow away from her stomach. She never wears clothes that hug her too tight. ✞ Her artistic forms of expression include writing, playing the keyboard, and crochet. Gothic poetry is what she is most partial to, but she’ll also write short horror stories or flash fictions when the mood strikes her. As for the keyboard, her mom tried to get her to play the piano as an after-school activity at age seven. Henrietta rebelled against the structured lessons, finding the daily 30-minute practices insufferable, not to mention she hated her music teacher’s uptight and critical personality. She quit going to lessons formally after a year, though she found her way back to the keyboard when the other goth kids wanted to start a band. Now she plays on her terms. ✞ Incidentally, the piano lessons left her with an appreciation for classical music, especially the melancholic music, though she’d mostly rather play original music or cover songs from her favorite movies/musicals, such as The Nightmare Before Christmas, Sweeney Todd, and Phantom of the Opera. ✞ As far as crochet goes, Henrietta makes amigurumi-style Lovecraftian monsters. It began when she was twelve and she decided she wanted to make something special for Firkle’s birthday, as she didn’t want to buy anything from the dreaded Hot Topic. Her creations weren’t very good at first, but over the years they’ve become decent enough where people will buy them. She opened up an Etsy shop about a year ago. She feels dirty about selling out, but she tries to justify it by working towards freedom from her parents. Her biggest supporters are the founders of The Cult of Cthulhu.  ✞ Both of Henrietta’s parents work corporate jobs. Her father is an accountant and her mother is an administrative assistant. They met at the same company. Even though they wanted children, they never set aside time for raising them. Henrietta and Bradley spent most of their formative years in and out of daycare and with nannies. As a result, her mother always tries to overcompensate when she is home by offering her children sweets she buys from the bakery. She tries to spend time with them, but she always thinks her children will entertain each other despite their drastically different personalities. Her father, on the other hand, likes to keep to himself after work, and hides behind the newspaper and a glass of brandy. He barely talks at dinner and drinks more on the weekends. ✞ Henrietta has an abrasive personality towards her parents. She hates how they both always try to pressure her into the corporate lifestyle and want her to go to college and major in business. Her sharp edges exist outside of the home as well. She usually doesn’t have many kind words for people who follow the conformist agenda. She won’t go out of her way to instigate a fight, but she dislikes if people invade her and the other Goth kids’ personal space. She generally chooses to ignore people that annoy her if they aren’t trying to directly interact with her. ✞ Henrietta only shows a softer side to the other Goth kids. Even though they may not always express the fact that they care for each other in a typical way, she feels a profound bond towards them. In a way, they’re like a fucked up little family, as cliché as that may be. She also will be less apathetic towards others who are in true emotional pain.

Sample para:

Hot, black tears brimmed over Henrietta’s eyes unwillingly, accenting her pale face with black ribbons. She hid in the bathroom of the locker room. She tried to close herself off to feelings and embrace apathy, but she felt incredibly stupid and weak at the moment. There was a reason she ditched school—to avoid all of the bullshit. Gym class was the absolute worse. She hated changing in front of all of those stupid anorexic cheerleaders. Nobody had said anything to her directly, but she had heard them whispering and giggling behind her back. “You think they even make shorts in her size?” “Haha! God, I hope not!” “She totally looks pregnant.” “Ew, I know! Those stretch marks!” “I thought she was pregnant. Isn’t that why she’s never here?” Why did their opinions matter? Why did she let those conformist bitches work her up to this extent? It was beyond embarrassing. Their opinions didn’t even matter. They would grow up to be trophy wives or bitchy business women like her mother. She didn’t want to fit in with them. She refused to become some faceless lump of dough that they could use a cookie cutter on to reshape her. She wanted to keep being herself, even if it meant being subject to scrutiny that should have been of no consequence. “Fuck it,” Henrietta murmured as she steeled herself. She burst through the bathroom door, taking quick steps to her locker in the now deserted locker room. She changed back into her black dress and snuck out the back of the school. She sat on the deserted stoop near the dumpsters and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and cigarette holder from her faux leather messenger bag. Prepping the cigarette in the holder, she lit it and took a few long drags to calm down. In her other hand, she held her phone, debating what kind of text to send Michael, Pete, and Firkle. She didn’t want to let them know the plastic girls had won.

Extra:

Ride or die, fam!

[hfwtrp-blog]

SOUTH PARK RP SEARCH

                                       Welcome to South Park!  

            If you’re looking for a friendly role-playing community,                                             you’ve found it. 

           We are a Skype based Role playing group, with members                                     needing to be 17+ to join. 

            We require weekly posts in the main role-play, and have                             many characters to interact with.

            home || rules || taken characters || application || most wanted                                         frequently asked questions    Some of our most wanted characters are: 

                                  Ruby Tucker, Ike Broflovski, Annie Knitts,                                        Sally Turner, Nichole Daniels, Lola Dawtrey,                                                 and Jimmy Valmer just to name a few.

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Damien Thorn

MUN INFORMATION

Nickname: Haley.

Age: 18.

Tumblr URL: @groovyscented

Timezone: EST – Eastern Standard Time.

Triggers: Excessive gore/torture. Violence is totally fine but I don’t like writing long, drawn out and detailed gore/torture.

Secondary Character: Nichole Daniels. 

MUSE INFORMATION

Muse’s name: Damien Thorn.

Age: ???; Carries on the appearance of an 18-year-old teenager, but no one quite knows how old Damien really is. Not even himself. Trippy.

Birthday: April 30th [Taurus]

Height: 5′7″

Sexuality: Heterosexual.

Occupation: Paid Intern at South Park Mental House.

Headcanons:

+ Damien’s dad [Satan] travels a lot. As a result, Damien’s been this way and that, more often than not, attending to his father’s work. He is, after all, the anti-christ, and that does come with a certain array of sinful duties. The majority of which isn’t ultimately detrimental, just a few disasters here and there to raise some hell [lmaooooo].

+ Damien finds himself in South Park again after being summoned by an few amateur witches, who quickly scream and run, because, holy fuck, it actually worked. It actually came as sort of a relief. Damien has a deep urge to just settle in one place, and be “normal”–well, as “normal” as the anti-christ can possibly get. What better place to do that than South Park? So, after finding a suitable place to stay, he enrolls into South Park High. 

+ Being the anti-christ isn’t as glamorous as one would think. Damien just wants to be like everyone else, but it’s particularly difficult. Being what he is, he’s negatively influenced, often and very easily. So while he tries to stay on the straight and narrow, more often than not, he strays. The demonic influence is too strong for him to resist, but he’s trying, damn it. He gets good grades, and even got himself a job at the South Park Mental House, because who else would hire the fucking anti-christ, right?

+ Damien is weird. He talks weird, he acts weird, he gives off super weird vibes–therefore, it’s very difficult for him to make friends [or let people in, even though he would really like some companionship]. He’s often a victim of bullying and teasing, which sparks his temper, and as you can imagine, that doesn’t end well. Despite this, Damien is actually a very charming gentleman, [especially to the ladies] and an old fashioned romantic. 

+ Damien is a powerful necromancer, and has fantastic ability with magic and the dark arts. He can even summon demons from hell at will to do his bidding. However, he doesn’t call upon them unless he’s in the mood to do some sinning. He tries to keep his magic mostly under wraps, but he does use it to make some mundane, human tasks easier [for example, chores, or organizing]. His mode of transportation is a motorcycle, powered by the flames of hell. It’s pretty tricky fueling it up, though. 

+ Ultimately, Damien tries not to be a villain, but that’s what he is. A villain. It’s in his blood, what he was bred to be, and there’s little to no chance of ever stopping that.

SAMPLE PARA:  Thunder cracked with a resounding boom over the clouded sky, a sure sign that bad weather was approaching, and fast.

Fucking great. That was a fantastic first impression on his first day back to school–oh, look, a fucking hurricane is coming, it must be Damien’s fault. He could hear the whispers already. Why was the world so cruel to him?

Oh, yeah. He was the anti-christ.

Shoving the keys to his bike in his leather jacket pocket, Damien stepped onto the pavement, taking a long look at the looming building before him, framed with storm clouds. South Park High. It’d been a number of years since he had rang up a ruckus in South Park–perhaps they’d forgotten about him, and what he was.

Unfortunately, he doubted it. He wasn’t exactly something that was easy to forget. Grabbing for the folded up schedule in his jeans, he walked up the steps, parting the surrounding crowd like the damn Red Sea. 

“… Greetings, walkers of the mortal plane.”

This was sure to be an interesting first day.

EXTRA: Much love and happiness, friends.

[hfwtevents-blog]

Weekend at the Downtown Aquarium

Parents/guardians, are you fed up with having your child laze around the house on the weekends? And even when your child does get out, are you fed up with them getting into trouble, what with all the teenage drinking and rise of heroin use in the suburbs? When your child’s at home, he/she’s practically glued to his/her phone or computer, and when he/she does try to talk to you, he/she spouts out all this nonsense that goes right over your head (What do you mean my eyebrows are “on fleek” Billy? I think YOU need to sit down and study!).

If you find yourself facing this problem, then you need to sign your child up for a wholesome weekend of fun at the Downtown Aquarium! The best part? This trip will be covered by the school, thanks to the generous donations from the Black family! The weekend will provide your child with a Saturday trip to the aquarium, complete with a lunch at the aquarium’s restaurant, and a weekend at The Westin Downtown Denver, a four-star hotel complete with an indoor/outdoor pool and plenty of other exciting amenities!

So what are you waiting for? Sign up today and give yourself the break you deserve! Or if you miss spending time with your child, sign yourself up as a chaperone and come along for the ride! A trip at the Downtown Aquarium is guaranteed to be the bonding experience of a lifetime!

Keep reading

[hfwtrp-blog]

HFWT ROLEPLAYER SEARCH

                                       Welcome to South Park!  

            If you’re looking for a friendly role-playing community,                                             you’ve found it. 

           We are a Skype based Role playing group, with members                                     needing to be 17+ to join. 

            We require weekly posts in the main role-play, and have                             many characters to interact with.

            home || rules || taken charcters || application || most wanted                                         frequently asked questions    Some of our most wanted characters are: 

                                  Ruby Tucker, Ike Broflovski, Annie Knitts,                                        Sally Turner, Nichole Daniels, Lola Dawtrey,                                                 and Jimmy Valmer just to name a few.

[hfwtrp-blog]

Jenny's here, bitches.

MUN INFORMATION Nickname: John Age: 22 Timezone: USA Central Time Zone Triggers: n/a Secondary Character: I’m comfortable playing virtually anybody in the South Park universe and am open to whoever else might be needed. Next in line: - Terrence Mephesto (Very fond of the character, but his rude and arrogant demeanor can be a poor fit for role-playing.) - Jimmy Valmer MUSE INFORMATION Muse’s name: Jennifer Michelle “Jenny” Simons Age: 18 Birthday: December 7th Height: 5'7" Sexuality: Heterosexual (Bisexual) Occupation: n/a Headcanons: - The ‘pants shitting’ incident in the fourth grade has left permanent marks on Jenny’s psyche that aren’t going away, and it’s not just limited to an aversion to cupcakes or romance, either. Just stay the fuck out of her way if she wants to use the bathroom. - Jenny doesn’t like to let her guard down - she hates letting people get close to her and even around her friends, she often ends up keeping them at a distance. Every relationship is a risk to her, another opportunity to be hurt, rejected or cast aside by those around her. She can often be apathetic, rude or even snippy because it’s just another strategy to keep herself where she can be in control: alone. - Her grades are fairly average. She has consistently decent marks in every subject and does study from here to there, but she’s not particularly worried about school itself. Jack of all trades, master of none. - Her physical development has been a blessing and a curse for her social issues. Her insecurity does affect her perception of her appearance, but she’s heard enough comments to know she’s attractive to some…. but sometimes, her trust issues can convince her someone only cares about her looks, while other times, she loves casual attention, because anything’s better than ‘Soft-Serve Simons’ again. - She’s extremely bi-curious, but won’t admit it and is really insecure about it. - Jenny swears like a sailor, you fucking bastards. - No relation to that other Jenny who died back in elementary school. I mean, what? Sample para: [digs out of storage] Jenny sat at her couch in the living room, reading some boring garbage on her tablet. Lola may or may not be on her way, or maybe she got high again and totally forgot. Well, hopefully she *was* on her way. Jenny hadn’t seen her best friend in fucking *ages*. She hadn’t even had a chance to tell her about her new job…. or that other thing. In any case, she read through boredly, waiting to hear the sound of the doorbell. She was actually a little embarrassed how much she was looking forward to hanging out - she was supposed to be independent. She didn’t need anybody. She didn’t need to take those risks. She tried looking up some history stuff for homework. Might as well try to do some research and maybe make things easier. Wikipedia works, right? She read it over, gradually losing interest. She remembered that Stoley’d offered to tutor her - but shit, how did he sit through this crap? Didn’t seem super relevant… but there were some more interesting bits. If she could focus. That damn noise was- Oh. That was the doorbell. Right. Extra: IT’S STILL WEDNESDAY RIGHT NOW HURRY

[hfwtrp-blog]

Wendy Testaburger

MUN INFORMATION

Nickname: Haley.

Age: 18.

Tumblr URL: I have an RP blog for Wendy @femijelly, my personal is @groovyscented.

Timezone: EST – Eastern Standard Time.

Triggers: Excessive gore/torture. Violence is totally fine but I don’t like writing long, drawn out and detailed gore/torture.

Secondary Character: N/A

MUSE INFORMATION

Muse’s name: Wendy Testaburger

Age: 17-18

Birthday: Feburary 5th [Aquarius]

Height: 5'6"

Sexuality: Bisexual Panromantic.

Occupation: Volunteer.

Headcanons:

+ For the first headcanon, I’m going to list down a few specific traits she has that may not be completely crystal clear as portrayed in the show: Strengths–Progressive, original, independent, humanitarian Weaknesses–Runs from emotional expression, temperamental, uncompromising, aloof

+ Ever since the photoshop episode [the Hobbit], Wendy has had body image issues, and as a result, is very meek when it comes to showing off her body. She never wears two-piece bathing suits, and is usually found in a sweater or t-shirt. She’s self conscious about her thin figure, with limited curves and small chest/butt [it just about the only thing she’s not outspoken about, lol].

+ Wendy reacts to her initial romantic feelings for somebody with total denial. Even if it’s very clear to those around her, Wendy won’t truly accept that she has a crush on someone for a while, whether this be by internal denial or being totally oblivious. She may even go to lengths such as avoiding the object of her interest altogether, depending on the situation. Sometimes, however, these pent up feelings can explode into action, like when she kissed Cartman in “Chef Goes Nanners”.

+ The biggest problem for Wendy is the feeling that she’s limited or constrained. Because of the desire for freedom and equality for all, she will always strive to ensure freedom of speech and movement. Wendy’s reputation for sometimes being cold and insensitive [or a bitch] isn’t really true, she’s a great and nice person, it’s just her defense mechanism against premature intimacy. She needs to learn to trust others and express her emotions in a healthy way.

Sample para: Wendy considered it her civic duty, as of late, to make sure Kenny’s clothes were washed. Ever since she’d sat next to him during a ride in Bebe’s car, and he smelled so rank she could hurl.

However, she didn’t approach it in a charity, pity sort of way. Kenny wouldn’t be down for that shit, and, frankly, she didn’t feel a need to act like she was doing him some big favor. Basically, it went over as, ‘I wanna fucking do your laundry’ and, ‘okay’. And Wendy was content with such an arrangement.

Kenny would be coming by soon to pick up this weeks laundry, and Wendy was just finishing up, taking the final item out of the dryer–his large, orange parka. Damn, it was so warm, and it looked so cozy. It smelled so nice and stain-free–because fuck if Wendy Testaburger was going to do a half-ass job.

Slipping the coat around her shoulders, she pulled it tightly over her, taking a deep inhale of fantastically cleaned fabric. Oh yeah. She was good.

Extra: Much love and happiness, friends.

[hfwtrp-blog]

Butters Stotch

MUN INFORMATION

Nickname: Ben

Age: 22

Tumblr URL: gliitterjiizz

Timezone: Pacific -8:00

Triggers: don’t b a dick I guess idfk

Secondary Character: Ike I guess,  you guys have my Ike app

MUSE INFORMATION

Muse’s name: Leopold “Butters” Stotch

Age: 17? I think you guys are high school seniors right?

Birthday: 9/11

Height: 6’

Sexuality: heteroromantic bicurious

Occupation: mechanic/student

Headcanons:

Plans on going to college for mechanical engineering! He’s real handy with building and designing things. It’s helpful when his bike at this point is a mishmash of parts he threw together. It still looks pretty dope, though.

Butters has professor chaos laying dormant for the time being, not that he doesn’t have angry outbursts or spends nights pacing his room angrily ranting to himself about the cruelty of mankind,  he’s just not actively throwing plans together at the moment. That’s open to change, however.

He has a glass eye that’s slightly off putting to most, considering it doesn’t move and isn’t quite the same honey brown as his other eye.

Butters loves pink,  he loves cute things, he loves putting shit in his hair. Might be why his leather jacket is pastel pink and his bike helmet has bunnies on it.

Butters is a very angry boy. He holds a lot in, for the sake of people actually being able to stand him, but he’s also been known to fight and yell and really is just a tough boy I’m general,  despite his slim frame and heat curled hair.

Appearance wise, Butters is fairly tall, slim,  not really one to do man physical things. He has an undercut where the top is long and shaggy, he tends to wear it up in clips and fun ties. His blonde hair is a fairly pale shade. His natural eye is a light honey brown. He has a large scar going down half the left side of his face from the ninja star. His glass eye is a dull brown, sometimes he just wears an eye patch when he doesn’t want to deal with the prosthetic. The glass eye only vaguely moves when his other does. He tends to stick to blues and greens when it comes to wardrobe, leather jackets, polos , cardigans,  and henleys.

Plays a Kenku Cleric named Ron in dnd

Sample para:

Brisk air caught in Leopold’s lungs as he walked outside. Another morning of cold snow and thick ice. It was still fairly dark out, his parents asleep. He was grounded, sure, but as long as he went out early and got home early, well. Butters shook his head, shaking off sleep and the cold, before making his way next door to Cartman’s. Not for a visit, though. Quietly, to not disturb the sleeping neighborhood, he lifted up the garage door, seeing the place filled with a variety of boxes and old toys. In the center, though, his motorcycle. He’d lovingly brought this beast back to life, someone from work was fed up and ready to junk it but Butters saw the beauty in it.

It was dangerous, riding on the icy roads like he was. But it was nice, freeing. There was nothing around but him and the thin air. No worries, no clouded darkness, no nagging parents, no shitty teenagers. Butters was free,  if only for a few hours before he got stuck at school and then his room. At least he had this time to himself.

He was still salty about his most recent grounding. This time maybe it was a fair reason. Could’ve been if they weren’t his fuckin parents. Family was supposed to be on your side, right? And yet, you pick one little fight. It wasn’t even him picking it. Butters was minding his own business and some kid tried to start shit. A few jabs at his hair, clothes, whatever. He tried! He tried to shrug the guy off! Then a hand gripped his arm and Butters reeled around and hit him. But, it didn’t really matter. As soon as he got home from school, back to his room he’d go. No brisk wind hitting his face. No freedom.

[hfwtrp-blog]

Token Black

MUN INFORMATION

Nickname: daaaaiiiissyy. 

Age: 24.

Tumblr URL: fuckmitzvah, still

Timezone: CST

Triggers: none, trigger me daddy uwu

  Secondary Character: eric cartman exclusively thank

MUSE INFORMATION

Muse’s name: Token Malik Black.

Age: 17.

Birthday: June 20th, 1999.

Height: 6’8”

Sexuality: Seriously hasn’t even thought about it. Probably Straight?

Occupation: None– Student.

Headcanons:

– Token doesn’t do music anymore. Nowadays, he actually abhors the concept of performing. He used to like it a lot, he really did– It had been an unexpected release for him. His parents had never pushed music so much since it was near impossible for him to make anything real out of himself from it. They taught him the prerequisite piano, but only because studies showed that learning to read music helped discipline the brain and prepare it for exams. But when that whole singing debacle turned out to be nothing, and Faith +1 was just a fucked up attempting at “winning” something by one Eric Cartman, the Blacks determined a music career was out of the cards. After all, if he’d been truly good, opportunities would have presented themselves from such experiences– The Blacks don’t exactly tolerate failure. So, he doesn’t perform anymore. Doesn’t want to. Hates it.

  – Speaking of, the Blacks are incredibly overbearing parents. As such, Token’s entire life has been planned for him already. They know where he’s going to college– Columbia or Harvard– , when he’s going to apply – August 14th at the latest– and once he gets there, he knows what he’s going to do– Engineering or Business. He knows what he’s going to eat on the first Monday in June, just like he knows what he’s going to wear next week. He doesn’t just live in a carefully organized home, he’s practically the posterchild for Helicopter Parenting. They aren’t bad, they aren’t abusive– They just… Want their child to succeed. And if that means dictating what he eats and wears, then so be it. They’ve been that way their entire life, pushing Token to be his best, their best. And that’s good, right? Parents should demand the best out of their children, and as kids it’s what they owe for the gift of life. Token’s not bitter about it at all. Haha.

  – Typically level-headed, Token has gotten exceptionally good at biting his tongue. The importance of not being a cliche in this little mountain town has been impressed upon him since he was a child– Sympathize with ignorance, attempt to explain wrongdoing, but don’t cause a fuss. The ‘Angry Black Man’ trope is all too common, and in bumfuck towns like South Park, it’s important to avoid those if he wants to get the admiration of his teachers that he needs to get into college. Shooting up to be the tallest one in class did him no favors. But that doesn’t mean that Token doesn’t feel anger. He actually does. A lot. Racist shit is like candy do these fucking hicks, and every time it makes him snarl. Every time someone even vaguely says that he’s “not like other folks ‘like him’,“ it makes him mad. Furious. But he represses it. He shoves it deep, deep down into an itty bitty ball and doesn’t ever fuck with it. Because he has an Ivy League to go to, and he can’t afford fucking it up. – Token doesn’t make friends easily. This isn’t because he’s anti-social or because he gets anxious when meeting new folks– Actually, more than half the time he doesn’t worry about meeting new people because if they’re in South Park he already doesn’t exactly have time for them– But rather because he isn’t good at judging others. His life is a carefully constructed tower of success, and one wrong friend can bring that entirely down. That said, he’s still intensely loyal to Craig, Tweek, and Clyde. Having been friends with them for so long, any sort of wrongdoing they might do is easily overlooked, and he frequently forgives them for grievances that he would turn a scornful nose to, if it were anyone else. – Token’s music varies pretty wildly– From James Brown to Beyonce. But nine times out of ten, you can catch him listening to spoken word songs. Essentially poems, but with beats behind them, they give him a chance to feel like he’s being heard, like his anger is felt by someone, even if it isn’t. Even if they’re random artists on Spotify or Youtube, he can feel like he is fucking known by someone, anyone. But he doesn’t listen to that stuff loudly. He keeps it off of his phone, erases his music history, doesn’t play it in his car or where anyone else could hear it– Including his parents. He’s got a playlist of Taylor Swift garbage on standby to swipe over to so no one hears him listening to angry music. So, most likely people just think he has shitty taste. Which, y’know, fine. He’s not salty about it or anything.

Sample para: Token breathed deeply through his nose, eyelids drooping as he watched the teacher fumble with the new, fancy, computerized whiteboard. Normally, it’d be a riot and a half, watching this poor woman fumble and mutter and curse under her breath, manual in hand, as she struggled with technology that not even the ‘Tech Support’ from the library could offer. But, as it was, he was just tired. He’d be called up in a second– He usually was. With anything from Overhead problems or document retrieval from email servers, at least once a day, some teacher decided they needed Token’s help. Truthfully, he didn’t know why. Surely there were more actively-Techie kids at South Park? Kevin Stoley, for one. But no. He’d done one report using Meteorology equipment one time in fifth grade, and suddenly he’s the ‘Tech Kid’. Dimly, he wondered if it was some sort of… No. Man, how could he construe that into a race thing? Sad that he was probably right, but still, that was fucked up. Wrinkling his nose with his own fucking thought process, Token shook his head to clear his mind, tapping the eraser of his pencil against his paper. Only vaguely was he aware of the other students turning to look at him, expectantly. Still, he didn’t respond with anything except his eyebrows quirking up, eyes focusing again on the drama unfolding ahead of him.

  Damn it… The teacher was looking at him, desperate, plaintive look in her eyes. He’d seen that look before. Smile tight against his teeth, Token nodded, unfolding himself from his desk and slowly making his way up. He squinted at the tablet in her hands as she hurriedly explained what it was supposed to be doing– “This chart is supposed to go up there so we can do it as a class, and you know they haven’t a clue what they’re doing, giving this to me. No training, no warning, just boom! Here I am, figure it out, Wiley…” She continued to go on, but Token gently took the tablet from her hands. “It looks like you need to have the screen-sharing app installed,” Token murmured. He’d deduced as much from the little error message that blipped onto the screen as he attempted to share the screen. The message had read: ‘SHARING INACTIVE, PLEASE UPDATE SMARTBOARD APPLICATION’. He made quick work of opening the App Store and searching for the correct app, installing it before handing it back to the much-smaller Wiley. “Here ya go.” Wiley gasped, then groaned, rolling her eyes. “Oh, the– Of course it would be something so simple. You can sit down now, Token,” She groaned, turning back towards the board. Nodding shortly, Token turned and made the arduous task of sitting down comfortably again. Not that there was much comfortable about a desk for a guy who was all legs. He settled to have them in the aisle. And then he returned to staring at the abyss, ignoring the furtive glances from the other students. Well, there was his once a day quota.

Extra: u wot m8 I am away until the 3/11 but I want to post this now at least! 

[hfwtrp-blog]

Firkle Application

MUN INFORMATION

Nickname: Alison Age: 19 Tumblr URL: sociopathicshota.tumblr.com Timezone: Mountain Standard Time Triggers: none c: Secondary Character: N/A MUSE INFORMATION Muse’s name: Firkle Age: 15 Birthday: October 25th Height: 5'3 Sexuality: panromantic demisexual Occupation: student Headcanons: - He’s manipulative, a pathological liar, and has no regard for other human beings. - He’s short due to genetics, and is secure with his appearance. There are days where he won’t do his make up, because he doesn’t care enough. - Catching him in a lie, or in a manipulative act is rare, but does happen. He usually can come up with a passable excuse for it. - He’s lethal, he doesn’t flaunt it, but he could kill people that get in his way. Whether that’s a path to selfish gain or otherwise, he can and will.

Sample para:

Today had just been getting progressively worse for Firkle. First, he was caught in several lies that he could talk his way out of, his phone broke, his cat won’t go near him. Today was awful. Was tomorrow going to be any better? Not likely. A comment from Filmore had been plaguing him all day, ‘blow job height’. Things like that didn’t usually bother him, but that snippet had been annoying him. He wasn’t a crude person, nor did he appreciate those kinds of comments. They repulsed him, and what those words insinuated made him ill. On top of everything else he was salty about, he didn’t feel very good. Logging into his laptop, playing loud music to drown out the thoughts. Whatever that prick was on about, it couldn’t have really been about him. Typing out bland replies to a few people that didn’t know about his failure yet.  This week was going to be lame, he was going to have to find some new games to play.

[hfwtrp-blog]

Red’s Application

MUN INFORMATION

Nickname: Nik

Age: 23 

Tumblr URL: N/A 

Timezone: CST

Triggers: Eggnog 

Secondary Character: Craig Tucker 

MUSE INFORMATION 

Muse’s name: Rebecca ‘Red’ Roth 

Age: 17 

Birthday: October 10 

Height: 5'8"

Sexuality: N/A

Occupation: Student // Gamer 

Headcanons: 

• Red is the product of a loving home. Though her father is a bit of a dope? He’s well meaning to her Mother’s strong feminist values. Both are supportive in her endeavors. 

• As one of the more avid female gamers in South Park. It only really made sense for Rebecca to strike out on YouTube. To moderate success no less. People found her dead pan game play commentary & special ‘guests’ entertaining and she quickly found herself rising in the popularity ranks. Being cute doesn’t hurt either.

 • Red’s band is called Spacefuckers ( All one word.), and started as an in joke between a handful of orchestra kids. Only to gain traction during an impromptu jam session for one of Token’s legendary parties.

• Despite being sufficiently book smart Rebecca prefers the arts and music to rigid academic pursuits. When not doodling in class? She spends her time drumming beats with anything in her reach or writing poetry in a faded blue notebook. 

• Kenny is a frequent collaborator in Red’s projects. Be it her gaming channel (They have a terribly cliche ship name bestowed by viewers.) or music ( She often kidnaps him from work to play gigs at small clubs and punk parties.). She respects his opinions. 

• Justin Timberlake is still Red’s favorite boy band member. She will actively fight anyone that talks shit about the guy because he was such an integral part of her childhood. She once punched Craig in the nose for calling him an overrated fag. 

• Due to a significant fur allergy, Red grew up mostly owning pets of the reptilian variety. At the moment? Her most prized one is a clever emerald dwarf chameleon named Boner, whom she’s had since he was a baby. 

 •  Red is currently captain of The South Park cows soccer team. After a stressful time juggling both cheerleading & soccer in Middle school she decided on the later. Preferring the less looks based athletic route, to actual competition. 

Sample para:  The bass is pounding, and there’s clear elation on freckled features as the red head shreds on her electric guitar— To these people the stage is Olympus & they are GODS come to rain down the gift of rhythm. It’s no surprise when she dives back first into the amassed mosh. All long pale limbs and fast fingers on fret. Her smile is wide and dimpled as they pass her back and forth. Though of course? Brows furrow at the feel of a pronounced PINCH on her backside. She catches a flash of tattooed fingers fleeing the scene & commits them and Spiked neon green hair to memory as she’s deposited back on the small ramshackle stage with her amused bandmates. It’s a community, they drive a full hour to rock out in Denver’s premier punk outfit— And rush back home at the strike of midnight with lukewarm Chinese takeout to beat HER 2 am curfew. 

“Yooooo, Kermit. You an ass man?” Her smile is cheshire smug, and there’s sweat clinging to her forehead & dripping down the back of her neck as she ambles up to the bar post set for a bottle of cold water. The jerk wad looks rightfully pleased at her question. “Only when it’s nice and tight.” Red is calm, casual when she takes a big sip from her Evian. “Yeah?” she inches a little closer, blue gaze half lidded. Coy—— WHACK! Kermit stumbles back, hand cupped at his bleeding nose & cursing through a mouthful of blood.  Red’s forehead throbs & the blond bartender hums. Whether in pity or amusement she isn’t certain, at the moment? Red head is malice incarnate, nostrils flared and chin held high. “Consent is my kink fuckslice…A present from me to you.” Appreciation is cool. Touching? NO dice. Her dad would be proud at the perfect execution. 

Extra: I’m salty.

[hfwtrp-blog]

Karen’s Application

Karen’s APPLICATION MUN INFORMATION Nickname:Kelsey Age: 21

Timezone: est -5 Triggers: none okay not really ya know salt. If something isn’t salty enough Muse’s name: Karen Abigail McCormick

Age: 15

Birthday: April 20th

Height: 5’7

Sexuality: Straight

Occupation: Student

Headcanons:

-Her biggest role model is Kenny and she wants to be so much like her older brother. She thinks Kenny can do no wrong, and refuses to listen to anyone who says anything negative about him. She almost idolizes him. Any time Karen has an issue or a problem she always goes to Kenny without fear of backlash. She has never felt more disappointed when she lets Kenny down.

-Kenny is more like Karen’s father figure than her own father. Kenny has always made she Karen was taken care of, she never had to worry about anything so long as Kenny was around. He would be the one giving Karen the shirt off his back or the food that should go into his stomach.

-She wants to be accepted by her peers but understands her parents really don’t have the money to make sure she has the coolest trends or clothing.. She tends to use the thrift store a lot, altering the clothing she gets there to fit the fashion trends that are going on. 

-Karen doesn’t really care all too much about her appearance. She normally uses light amounts of makeup and aims more towards a natural look. This is to be said that she tries to make herself look a little better off than she is. With the few nice pieces of clothing that she does own that is nice, she tries to maintain it.

-Karen currently wants to write children books. When she was younger Kenny would make up stories when their parents fought too loudly to help Karen sleep. She can’t ever recall any of the bullshit Kenny would make up, but she can recall the feeling. She felt loved and safe, and she wants to be able to spread that to a lot of children. She wants to write stories to give a sense of comfort and love to others.

Sample para: 

Christmas was one of the few times Karen’s parents actually tried to please their children. Having three children always was rough, there was never enough food or money to go around. But at least her parents tried on Christmas. Breakfast was always served with more food than they would see in a year. Pancakes were made and water down to make them spread thin,and  eggs had added milk to make them go far. Karen appreciated the effort, her parents weren’t always the best but they tried? Most of the time…. Some times. Breakfast would lead way to opening gifts and now that Kevin wasn’t there, Kenny and Karen seemed to get a little more in their stockings. They were always filled with nameless drug store candy. Karen never minded, sometimes Kenny would make some weird faces at whatever clearance candy their mother would pick up. Karen tended to find it funny.

Unlike Kenny, when she opened her gifts she was more careful with the wrapping paper. They would sit by their shitty tree, normally placed in the corner of their living room, taking turns opening gifts. There was only one thing on the list that Karen NEEDED. It was /expensive/ and she had put it on there in hopes of possibly only getting one gift that year. It was stupid to think her parents would spend almost 200 dollars on some drawing tablet she wanted. You can only do so much with some shitty tablet from walmart. If Karen was going to be serious about this children’s book thing, she needed something good. She needed something that would really help her get better with illustrations to help bring her stupid book ideas to life. Colored pencils can only go so far, and Karen couldn’t really use the tablet she had now. It was busted and gross and so old— literal cavemen used it! She was sure.

Judging by the few gifts under the tree with her name, she didn’t get it. There wasn’t anything to be disappointed about. She smiled brightly as she opened her gifts– clothes, a few colorful notepads and drawing supplies. She had nothing to complain about, it was all things she wanted. But she couldn’t help but be a bit disappointed. She was gracious as she watched Kenny open his gifts.

Finally once everything was open she was able to grab her belongings and head to her room, no longer shared with Kevin. She sighed. She didn’t want to be so pissy about it but she was disappointed gosh darn it. Karen wanted to groan, the last few weeks had already been spent babysitting the crappy kids in the neighborhood. It would be months before she saved up enough money to buy the stupid thing herself. She didn’t want to borrow money off Kenny either. That would be bad. He never made her pay it back! He was such a jerk about things like that.

Karen rolled her eyes at the thought, though her smiled showed otherwise of her thinking. She was carefully placing her art supplies away when she heard Kenny calling her. “I’m in here!” She yelled back, waiting for the blonde to nearly bounce in the room. He was always full of too much energy. She raised an eyebrow as he hid something behind his back. She raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay? “ She barely managed to ask before Kenny was shoving a box in her face.

She looked at the small, colorfully wrapped box in Kenny’s hands. “You didn’t”. Of course the bastard only smiled wider. But he did, in that box was just what she wanted.

Kenny was always there to prove not all heroes wore capes, most of them just wore orange parkas.

Extra: I love my wife Kenny, she is too pure and beautiful.

[hfwtrp-blog]

Craig Tuckers’ Application

MUN INFORMATION Nickname: Elle Age: 23 Timezone: Pacific Triggers: None Secondary Character: Token Black MUSE INFORMATION  Muse’s name: Craig Tucker Age: 18 Birthday: January 5th Height: 6’0” Sexuality: Graysexual, Grayromantic Occupation: Cashier at a 7-eleven Headcanons:

>> His favorite hobby is lying in bed and listening to music. He’ll listen to any song, any artist, any genre. When there’s one he likes, he’ll play it on repeat over and over. Every song has a hidden meaning, waiting to be discovered. Craig knows that if he hears a song long enough, he’ll realize it’s actually about him.  

>> He doesn’t believe in aliens, conspiracy theories, or the paranormal. (Don’t talk to him about the time he shot laser beams out of his eyes. Seriously.) It’s still fun to spend hours researching the illuminati, though. He saved up money and bought a camera for the exclusive purpose of hunting ghosts… and filming shitty home movies. Whichever he happens to be in the mood for.

>> He still has glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling.

>> He has a low-grade form of OCD, symptoms which include: aggression, anxiety, compulsive counting—especially relating to ritual (such as the need to touch a body part to an object a certain number of times), and agitation when something isn’t “in order.” They’re pretty mild, to the point where others perceive him as picky at worst. Craig found his symptoms leagues easier to manage after taking up smoking.  

>> He is actually picky, particularly when it comes to food. Anything more than salt or butter is “too flavorful” for his delicate palate.  

>> Craig has a tendency for stating the obvious.

Sample para:

One-hundred and fifty-one

One-hundred and fifty-two

What time was it, anyway?  Craig flared his nostrils, face angled down, his chin buried in the jacket his mom bought for his birthday. He focused on his boots as they pressed the snow. Not so much the sight of it (though his gaze was glued to the tips of his toes), but more the feeling of it. The way each step crunched against the outside of his ear drum, in-sync with the counting inside in his head.  

One-hundred and sixty-five

One-hundred and sixty-six

The air was colder than it should be. Drier. He forgot his gloves. He felt the shriveled skin over his knuckles break every time he flexed his fingers. He should’ve been home by now. He would’ve been, if halfway there he didn’t turn and walk back to school. And then he went back to the campus again after that. The third time the janitor saw him. He wondered if anybody else was watching.

One-hundred and seventy-seven

One-hundred and seventy-eight

Watching, thinking what a freak he was for pacing back and forth between his house and school. It would be some dick kid. Probably shorter than him. He’d come up to him and say “Hey freak, why do you keep walking back to school?” and Craig would say, “Fuck off, you’re the freak for watching me,” then he’d punch the kid, hard enough for his knuckles to get wet and stop fucking stinging so bad.

No he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t even say anything.

He’d probably just flip the guy the bird, at most.

One hundred and—shit. Fuck? Was he still in the one-hundreds or did he break into the two-hundreds already? Craig stopped in his tracks. He was pretty sure it was the hundred-nineties. But not like, sure-sure. He could guess, but he wouldn’t bet his life on it or anything. He should’ve been home by now. How long has it been? Long enough for his mom to text him? Long enough for his dad to think he was lighting up somewhere? Lighting up sounded good right about now. Craig thought he might have cigarettes in his locker. He turned around, licking his lips.  

One

Two

Extra: Eggnog/salty

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are there any relationships or near relationships happening in this roleplay currently?

Hi there!

Currently, we do not have any ships in our roleplay that are taking place at this point in time.

We plan to do several resets which make more sense once you’re in the roleplay.

We always love to see natural relationships form and take place, so try to come in with open ships.

It’s more fun that way!

Admin Kyle

[hfwtrp-blog]

Yo! Tonight’s acceptance night. In about an hour or two, we will be accepting. I’d personally love to see another app or two added to our current ones. Maybe a Nichole Daniels? Or Henrietta Biggle? Or to, ya’ know, add dudes, a Token Black what be so great to see. Perhaps a Damien, to raise a little hell? It’d also be nice to see the Costwold’s roaming around. Come give us a look, and apply!

[hfwtrp-blog]

Dude, it’s acceptance day! Feelin’ good on a Wednesday... Goddammit, I shouldn’t be singing that. You know how sweet it’d be to get some new apps? Send them our way and we’ll let you know later tonight.