Desmond Pierce

Wyrmrest Accord Role-play - [A] - 18+ - Hudson Shipping Company

[marghettispaghetti]

[piercetheliving-blog]

👀👀👀👀

[netherstray]

So apparently Blizz suddenly cares about RP realm names

A friend told me about their friend’s character being reported for a rename. They renamed their character with the same name (as you do, since it’s usually someone reporting you for petty bullshit) and they were reported again, so they were banned.

Sucks, yeah, but apparently Blizz doesn’t really understand the problem here.

They don’t understand RP addons. 

What fucking RP realm do you play on where most people don’t RP with any RP addons?

Hey look at all these Moon Guard RPers who don’t use any RP addons whatsoever, especially not TRP.

It’s certainly not around 700+ players, definitely not, no way. 

Hey GM maybe non-RP names on your RP realm are such a problem for you because you don’t use any RP addons for custom names because WoW has an antiquated naming system and has no character profile system. 

So they don’t understand the problem of having a name for your toon that doesn’t match your RP character because they don’t use RP addons, so therefore they don’t get why picking a unique name is such a problem, so apparently it’s fine for there to be one and only one man named John in Azeroth. 

And when you try to explain that you just use a common-use RP addon to have a proper RP name for other RPers to see, you get banned. Yeah, you could put effort into making up some stupid elf name that you don’t even like, but that just takes that name away from someone who might have actually wanted it. 

…SO WHAT THE FUCK, BLIZZ

[greatmaulsoffire]

So few people don’t use rp addons idk what server this GM is from lol. Also who actually cares about that? A guildmaster of the korkron for years had the name skullcrusha and I bet that doesn’t fit lol. What a bizarre and aggressive post from a blue.

[korkrunchcereal]

Hi im Skullcrusha and I can assure you everyone hated the name. 

[easybarkoven-deactivated2018112]

The first person that came to mind was @addressroleplays and I will fight any GM who gives her problems

[addressroleplays]

This is something I have had actual arguments over before with GMs. Address is Address’ nickname. It’s got an entire story behind it. It is what I use ICly and I will go down swinging for our right to use dumb “non rp names”

ESPECIALLY GIVEN THAT GETTING ORIGINAL REGULAR ASS NAMES IS HARD. (Hey guys. Special characters are included in the ‘nnot allowed’ section too which makes it even harder)

Im more than willing to spearhead a forum push to end this dumb rule. Especially since Blizzard is planning to moderate rp addons now.

[yung-rage]

Are GMs really so fucking out of touch with their players ohhhh myyy godddd

[tevruden]

Honestly my rule is “If they don’t have an RP addon they’re probably not an RPer”

[tevruden]

Oh hey it gets better. From this thread:

[draevian-deactivated20210310]

The wow department at Blizzard really has their head up their own ass huh? Like maybe if you actually gave roleplayers ANY kind of support in the game, people would be less bothered by this, but you DON’T. Give us something to actually like about base wow roleplaying, like the hundreds of unused transmog options like a simple pair of glasses, easing up on transmog restrictions, BASIC FUCKING CHARACTER CUSTOMIZATION LIKE EYE COLOR, player housing like almost any other MMO in 2018 has, give us the option to have a first and last name because that alone would solve a LOT of naming frustration. It’s so obviously scummy and fake to all of a sudden “care about RP integrity” when Blizzard doesn’t give a DAMN about roleplayers to begin with, and has only made changes to restrict us.  That blue poster is either not a roleplayer, or is lying about not using an addon because most games don’t like to support addons in a way that makes them look lacking in any front. What bothers me the most about this, is the devs are so out of touch with their player base, that they have NO IDEA what people want anymore! They just make all these awful unwanted changes and expect good feedback.

Also side note: that intolerance comment by the blue poster gave me some huge red flags.

[escabye-deactivated20190922]

Hey blizzard, “outdoors”, “husband”, “catlover” and “carwash” arent disruptive names

You know what are??? Røšâłïñthå and Däîmÿáń or Wīłlíåm

Give us apostrophes. Give us spaces. Give us choices. But when there’s so many people on one server, with alts and hoarding names, you think we can get any names??? It’s all taken and it takes hours to come up with anything that’s not taken and by that point, it still has to be misspelled to work and/or wasn’t the thing you initially wanted

[piercetheliving-blog]

I rarely ever post OOC posts on this blog, but the response by the Blue is absolutely abhorrent. The great lack of maturity and unreasonable amounts of unprofessional attitude needs to be deeply examined. This person is a direct representative, a voice of Blizzard to the community, and this is how they respond? Genuine complaints and points only to be disregarded with a “If you don’t like it, then we’re going to have a problem. Your argument is only coming from you and nobody else I’VE dealt with has a problem with it.”. Bullying tactics.

It’s disgusting. I’m not even speaking about the great lack of regard to role-players compared to other MMO’s. Just this Dev is foul.

[lara4552]

[monarchofmurder]

[piercetheliving-blog]

“Ah, memories.” @nikkithorpe

[monarchofmurder]

[piercetheliving-blog]

“Before you question if you should kill your assigned target, do it.”

[nikish-sa]

[piercetheliving-blog]

@everythingisbetterwithpirates

[dronta-deactivated20200104]

[fleshmaid3n-deactivated20201226]

[elegyforadream]

[nikish-sa]

[piercetheliving-blog]

“I’m just a carpenter that enjoys sports, guardsman.”

[piercetheliving-blog]

((If you'd rather do this sort of RP in-game or if there's any problem at all, just go ahead and answer privately: )) Following a kill with a knife--personal, respectful--does Desmond find himself with a druidic follower, sticking close to shadows and keeping blazing eyes locked upon him. After many minutes, the feline appears before him, standing directly in his path. "Ye smell li'e blood. Li'e death." She pauses, taking a moment to think. "Li'e th' closin' breath o' a life."

The bloodied dagger in Desmond’s right hand is in a firm grip. Heavy breaths fall upon the fresh corpse as adrenaline rushes through the professional’s body. Eventually, he uses the fallen thug’s body to push himself to his feet and removes his left glove to straighten out any small wrinkles in his well tailored grey suit. He begins to make his exit from the alleyway, adjusting his grey mask which covers the lower half of his face from the bridge of his nose to fall down around his neck, forming into the look of a small formal grey scarf.Desmond’s face is illusioned with the aid of shadow magic. A more tan complexion with a chipped left ear and green eyes. Suddenly, the feline’s form makes itself known. His walk calmly comes to a stop and his gaze darts all along her figure with a stern expression. The suited man’s left hand rests against his stomach with bloodied dagger still in hand as the woman begins to speak. He doesn’t immediately verbally respond as he assesses the situation. “As do many in this world, druid. I’m sure you’re aware of that.” he slowly inhales, “That man…” he slightly nods his head backwards to the corpse, though keeps his eyes directly on her blazing hues, “…was he your friend?”

[theunfortunatedruid]

The fire flickers as she blinks, the tip of her long tail flicking slowly from side to side in careful calculation. Her ribcage expands as she draws a deep breath to get a better scent on the blood on Desmond’s dagger. “…If ‘e was?” she asks in that same careful tone. Almost invisibly, her muscles slowly tense as she prepares to leap away if the need arises. Due to her thick coat of fur, the only evidence in such a change lies in a slight shift in which lines of fur stand on her skin rather than lying flat to it.

[piercetheliving-blog]

Desmond Pierce is as perceptive as a skilled detective, examining her feline form intensely the moments he wasn’t staring directly into her eyes. All the fur around her begins to stand up, and Desmond releases a small, sharp exhale out of his nostrils. If she were able to pick up on darker magics, it may feel as if a dark fog of shadow magic were creeping up on the area around them, though none would be visibly seen. “Then it would make sense for you to be here.” he slowly and calmly says. “Then you may desire to avenge him. If not, state your purpose and what you intend to do with what event you just saw.”

  The hand that rested against his stomach raises some. Open-palmed facing her just about chest-height for him. “Choose your words wisely, Druid. There are many who do not, and later regret their choices when they are damned to wander the Underworld for eternity.”

[theunfortunatedruid]

An ear lowers slightly, the sensation of the building magic causing her fur to stand on-end. Her tail continues to twitch warily, and her molten eyes bore into his own as she considers her words. “Remember yer scen’,” she answers honestly. “Repor’ ye t’ th’ guard an’ m’ Lord.” Falling momentarily silent, the druid glances past Desmond at the corpse, a faint sadness interrupting the intensity of her gaze. “I didn’t know ‘im, bein’ ‘ones’. I jus’ smelled blood. Bu’ I would like t’ turn ‘is body t’ th’ guard so they can contact ‘is family, rather’n leavin’ ‘im t’ ro’ in an alley.”

[piercetheliving-blog]

Desmond sharply exhales out his nose as she begins to answer. It was evident his preparation had paid off quite well as she goes on about reporting his appearance to the authorities. As she nearly comes to a finish, his left hand raises from his stomach, into his suit jacket. Out comes a .357 tool-steel magnum which looks as if it just came out from the manufacturing plant, casually pointing it for the woman’s skull.  “Before you attempt to leave…” Desmond blurts out, anticipating the seemingly on-edge druid to attempt and flee. “… The shadows around you are not your friends. They are mine. These alleys, they are not your friend. They are nobodies. And this handgun is not your friend. It is neutral. At this point, you are alone with those who will not come to your aid, should I open fire. You are alone, and if you do not wisen up, you will die alone.” He clears his throat, keeping a grip on the hilt of the murder-weapon. “Tell me, druid. Why shouldn’t you die, tonight? You’ve seen my appearance, you wish to tamper with the body, and you will report me to all known authorities. Either you have been cursed to tell the truth and nothing but the truth, or you’ve an ace up your sleeve.”

@theunfortunatedruid

[theunfortunatedruid]

In sync with the drawing of the weapon do Blythe’s ears pin into her mane; guns have never been her friends. Despite her visible intimidation, however, she snorts. “I was never interested in yer appearance. As I’d know, they change so easily,” the druid interrupts him, tracking his every move with alert eyes and ears. As he’s hopefully distracted by either the interruption itself or with continuing his own monologue, the druid launches forward rather than to the side. After all, humans can aim so much more swiftly to the side than up or down, making closing the distance between them her safest option. In under a second, she reaches him, but rather than attack, attempts to either bowl him over or dart between his legs, depending on the spread of them.

[piercetheliving-blog]

Desmond allows her to interrupt, his stern expression shifting to a glare, a scowl, allowing his trigger finger to rest against the steel trigger. Without mercy, he squeezes the trigger just as she begins to move, only once due to her pounce, aiming for her person with such a short distance. One steel-cased .357 round, designed to pierce armor, soars through the air, possibly penetrating his target.

The conjured shadows that crept in like an invisible fog came into play. He attempts to move off to the side, though her speed bests him as she knocks him over onto his side with a slight grunt. The bloodied knife and firearm fall to his side, though soon after, disappear. His form sits there against the alley brick wall with a faceless stare in her direction, as if all life and identification had left him, and he were just a husk. A suited life-like mannequin. 

The true Desmond masks himself within the shadows, allowing the illusion to serve as a hopeful distraction all the while he gains a higher vantage point up the nearby fire escape stairs, watching the druid as he ponders his next move. 

The shadows make work of the thug’s corpse, beginning to swallow and devour him out of sight.

[theunfortunatedruid]

Not a sound escapes the druid as the bullet pierces the base of her neck, narrowly missing anything vital; adrenaline keeps her quiet and numb to the pain as she rushes through and past him. Only once she’s leapt into the air and shifted into a tiny barn owl, wind beneath her wings, does she shout back in a triumphant hoot, “I’ was yer scen’!” Perhaps understanding there’s no chance of being in the clear quite yet, the druid beats her little wings as hard as she can, diving, banking, and even rolling to the sides as best she can in evasive maneuvers. Just barely out of sight, she begins to lose altitude, her wound beginning to get to her.

[piercetheliving-blog]

And so they parted. Desmond doesn’t make an attempt to fire at her as she escapes, nor does he follow her location. He waits a few moments in silence before making a much more silent move into the night. Just as the alley was before the altercation, it is left. Silent, dark, and dead.

[piercetheliving-blog]

((If you'd rather do this sort of RP in-game or if there's any problem at all, just go ahead and answer privately: )) Following a kill with a knife--personal, respectful--does Desmond find himself with a druidic follower, sticking close to shadows and keeping blazing eyes locked upon him. After many minutes, the feline appears before him, standing directly in his path. "Ye smell li'e blood. Li'e death." She pauses, taking a moment to think. "Li'e th' closin' breath o' a life."

The bloodied dagger in Desmond’s right hand is in a firm grip. Heavy breaths fall upon the fresh corpse as adrenaline rushes through the professional’s body. Eventually, he uses the fallen thug’s body to push himself to his feet and removes his left glove to straighten out any small wrinkles in his well tailored grey suit. He begins to make his exit from the alleyway, adjusting his grey mask which covers the lower half of his face from the bridge of his nose to fall down around his neck, forming into the look of a small formal grey scarf.Desmond’s face is illusioned with the aid of shadow magic. A more tan complexion with a chipped left ear and green eyes. Suddenly, the feline’s form makes itself known. His walk calmly comes to a stop and his gaze darts all along her figure with a stern expression. The suited man’s left hand rests against his stomach with bloodied dagger still in hand as the woman begins to speak. He doesn’t immediately verbally respond as he assesses the situation. “As do many in this world, druid. I’m sure you’re aware of that.” he slowly inhales, “That man…” he slightly nods his head backwards to the corpse, though keeps his eyes directly on her blazing hues, “…was he your friend?”

[theunfortunatedruid]

The fire flickers as she blinks, the tip of her long tail flicking slowly from side to side in careful calculation. Her ribcage expands as she draws a deep breath to get a better scent on the blood on Desmond’s dagger. “…If ‘e was?” she asks in that same careful tone. Almost invisibly, her muscles slowly tense as she prepares to leap away if the need arises. Due to her thick coat of fur, the only evidence in such a change lies in a slight shift in which lines of fur stand on her skin rather than lying flat to it.

[piercetheliving-blog]

Desmond Pierce is as perceptive as a skilled detective, examining her feline form intensely the moments he wasn’t staring directly into her eyes. All the fur around her begins to stand up, and Desmond releases a small, sharp exhale out of his nostrils. If she were able to pick up on darker magics, it may feel as if a dark fog of shadow magic were creeping up on the area around them, though none would be visibly seen. “Then it would make sense for you to be here.” he slowly and calmly says. “Then you may desire to avenge him. If not, state your purpose and what you intend to do with what event you just saw.”

  The hand that rested against his stomach raises some. Open-palmed facing her just about chest-height for him. “Choose your words wisely, Druid. There are many who do not, and later regret their choices when they are damned to wander the Underworld for eternity.”

[theunfortunatedruid]

An ear lowers slightly, the sensation of the building magic causing her fur to stand on-end. Her tail continues to twitch warily, and her molten eyes bore into his own as she considers her words. “Remember yer scen’,” she answers honestly. “Repor’ ye t’ th’ guard an’ m’ Lord.” Falling momentarily silent, the druid glances past Desmond at the corpse, a faint sadness interrupting the intensity of her gaze. “I didn’t know ‘im, bein’ ‘ones’. I jus’ smelled blood. Bu’ I would like t’ turn ‘is body t’ th’ guard so they can contact ‘is family, rather’n leavin’ ‘im t’ ro’ in an alley.”

[piercetheliving-blog]

Desmond sharply exhales out his nose as she begins to answer. It was evident his preparation had paid off quite well as she goes on about reporting his appearance to the authorities. As she nearly comes to a finish, his left hand raises from his stomach, into his suit jacket. Out comes a .357 tool-steel magnum which looks as if it just came out from the manufacturing plant, casually pointing it for the woman’s skull.  “Before you attempt to leave…” Desmond blurts out, anticipating the seemingly on-edge druid to attempt and flee. “… The shadows around you are not your friends. They are mine. These alleys, they are not your friend. They are nobodies. And this handgun is not your friend. It is neutral. At this point, you are alone with those who will not come to your aid, should I open fire. You are alone, and if you do not wisen up, you will die alone.” He clears his throat, keeping a grip on the hilt of the murder-weapon. “Tell me, druid. Why shouldn’t you die, tonight? You’ve seen my appearance, you wish to tamper with the body, and you will report me to all known authorities. Either you have been cursed to tell the truth and nothing but the truth, or you’ve an ace up your sleeve.”

@theunfortunatedruid

[theunfortunatedruid]

In sync with the drawing of the weapon do Blythe’s ears pin into her mane; guns have never been her friends. Despite her visible intimidation, however, she snorts. “I was never interested in yer appearance. As I’d know, they change so easily,” the druid interrupts him, tracking his every move with alert eyes and ears. As he’s hopefully distracted by either the interruption itself or with continuing his own monologue, the druid launches forward rather than to the side. After all, humans can aim so much more swiftly to the side than up or down, making closing the distance between them her safest option. In under a second, she reaches him, but rather than attack, attempts to either bowl him over or dart between his legs, depending on the spread of them.

[piercetheliving-blog]

Desmond allows her to interrupt, his stern expression shifting to a glare, a scowl, allowing his trigger finger to rest against the steel trigger. Without mercy, he squeezes the trigger just as she begins to move, only once due to her pounce, aiming for her person with such a short distance. One steel-cased .357 round, designed to pierce armor, soars through the air, possibly penetrating his target.

The conjured shadows that crept in like an invisible fog came into play. He attempts to move off to the side, though her speed bests him as she knocks him over onto his side with a slight grunt. The bloodied knife and firearm fall to his side, though soon after, disappear. His form sits there against the alley brick wall with a faceless stare in her direction, as if all life and identification had left him, and he were just a husk. A suited life-like mannequin. 

The true Desmond masks himself within the shadows, allowing the illusion to serve as a hopeful distraction all the while he gains a higher vantage point up the nearby fire escape stairs, watching the druid as he ponders his next move. 

The shadows make work of the thug’s corpse, beginning to swallow and devour him out of sight.

[piercetheliving-blog]

((If you'd rather do this sort of RP in-game or if there's any problem at all, just go ahead and answer privately: )) Following a kill with a knife--personal, respectful--does Desmond find himself with a druidic follower, sticking close to shadows and keeping blazing eyes locked upon him. After many minutes, the feline appears before him, standing directly in his path. "Ye smell li'e blood. Li'e death." She pauses, taking a moment to think. "Li'e th' closin' breath o' a life."

The bloodied dagger in Desmond’s right hand is in a firm grip. Heavy breaths fall upon the fresh corpse as adrenaline rushes through the professional’s body. Eventually, he uses the fallen thug’s body to push himself to his feet and removes his left glove to straighten out any small wrinkles in his well tailored grey suit. He begins to make his exit from the alleyway, adjusting his grey mask which covers the lower half of his face from the bridge of his nose to fall down around his neck, forming into the look of a small formal grey scarf.Desmond’s face is illusioned with the aid of shadow magic. A more tan complexion with a chipped left ear and green eyes. Suddenly, the feline’s form makes itself known. His walk calmly comes to a stop and his gaze darts all along her figure with a stern expression. The suited man’s left hand rests against his stomach with bloodied dagger still in hand as the woman begins to speak. He doesn’t immediately verbally respond as he assesses the situation. “As do many in this world, druid. I’m sure you’re aware of that.” he slowly inhales, “That man…” he slightly nods his head backwards to the corpse, though keeps his eyes directly on her blazing hues, “…was he your friend?”

[theunfortunatedruid]

The fire flickers as she blinks, the tip of her long tail flicking slowly from side to side in careful calculation. Her ribcage expands as she draws a deep breath to get a better scent on the blood on Desmond’s dagger. “…If ‘e was?” she asks in that same careful tone. Almost invisibly, her muscles slowly tense as she prepares to leap away if the need arises. Due to her thick coat of fur, the only evidence in such a change lies in a slight shift in which lines of fur stand on her skin rather than lying flat to it.

[piercetheliving-blog]

Desmond Pierce is as perceptive as a skilled detective, examining her feline form intensely the moments he wasn’t staring directly into her eyes. All the fur around her begins to stand up, and Desmond releases a small, sharp exhale out of his nostrils. If she were able to pick up on darker magics, it may feel as if a dark fog of shadow magic were creeping up on the area around them, though none would be visibly seen. “Then it would make sense for you to be here.” he slowly and calmly says. “Then you may desire to avenge him. If not, state your purpose and what you intend to do with what event you just saw.”

  The hand that rested against his stomach raises some. Open-palmed facing her just about chest-height for him. “Choose your words wisely, Druid. There are many who do not, and later regret their choices when they are damned to wander the Underworld for eternity.”

[theunfortunatedruid]

An ear lowers slightly, the sensation of the building magic causing her fur to stand on-end. Her tail continues to twitch warily, and her molten eyes bore into his own as she considers her words. “Remember yer scen’,” she answers honestly. “Repor’ ye t’ th’ guard an’ m’ Lord.” Falling momentarily silent, the druid glances past Desmond at the corpse, a faint sadness interrupting the intensity of her gaze. “I didn’t know ‘im, bein’ ‘ones’. I jus’ smelled blood. Bu’ I would like t’ turn ‘is body t’ th’ guard so they can contact ‘is family, rather’n leavin’ ‘im t’ ro’ in an alley.”

[piercetheliving-blog]

Desmond sharply exhales out his nose as she begins to answer. It was evident his preparation had paid off quite well as she goes on about reporting his appearance to the authorities. As she nearly comes to a finish, his left hand raises from his stomach, into his suit jacket. Out comes a .357 tool-steel magnum which looks as if it just came out from the manufacturing plant, casually pointing it for the woman’s skull.  “Before you attempt to leave...” Desmond blurts out, anticipating the seemingly on-edge druid to attempt and flee. “... The shadows around you are not your friends. They are mine. These alleys, they are not your friend. They are nobodies. And this handgun is not your friend. It is neutral. At this point, you are alone with those who will not come to your aid, should I open fire. You are alone, and if you do not wisen up, you will die alone.” He clears his throat, keeping a grip on the hilt of the murder-weapon. “Tell me, druid. Why shouldn’t you die, tonight? You’ve seen my appearance, you wish to tamper with the body, and you will report me to all known authorities. Either you have been cursed to tell the truth and nothing but the truth, or you’ve an ace up your sleeve.”

@theunfortunatedruid

[le-immorte]

[piercetheliving-blog]

“No such thing as a drinking problem. Just problems that cause you to drink.” Desmond says to himself, half a bottle in at home.

[everythingisbetterwithpirates]

Regarding HSC Character Consequences

Provocation without Allocation results in a Revocation.

It is common knowledge ( if not, it is now ), that a requirement to join the guild Hudson Shipping Company is to accept character consequences up to and including death. The reasons for this are many and some of them will be touched on down this post. I will begin with the biggest elephant in the room.

Character Death

I can’t speak for everyone, but I don’t think anyone really wants to kill their character before it is time to do so. You go through all the trouble of sculpting your masterpiece to play with it. Fill out the TRP. Ge the perfect mog. Swiggity swoogity. You coming for that booty.

However, this is ultimately a criminal guild. It means our member might be asked to go do something bad to another. It means our member might not be told to do anything and still wishes to do so because of  IC-personal reasons. Our member was given weapons, ammo, some good boots. The HSC helps facilitate the crime.

But if you want to do the crime you have to be ready to do the time. And you have to be able to take whatever you dish out. If one of our members is the attacking party, or directly involved with said attack, they are expected to not only take their hits accordingly, but to accept the turning to the tables ( without any gmodding from either side ) up to and including character death.

Makes the member a little more careful about engaging, right? That is one of the goals. Personal accountability. If one of our members puts themselves in a position where character death is a real and present possibility, they are expected to honor their acceptance of this standard.

That being said, this rule does not apply to attacking parties that are godmodding, metagaming, griefing or otherwise trying to kill “… just because.”

If one of our members rejects an attack under these circumstances, the “… but all HSC members are supposed to accept character death” tactic is not going to work. NO. This rule is there to ensure the integrity of our guild rp, not for you to use it as a means to play Billy Bad Ass. Especially if Billy isn’t willing to accept consequences themselves.

And now the smaller but by no means lighter elephant. 

Injuries.

This is about Collaboration, not Obstruction.

That is what RP is at it’s core. A collaboration of stories between many people that create a bigger picture.This post will be a lot longer if we go injury by injury. Those specifics are best discussed by the parties involved when the moment comes.

So you have an HSC member in your claws…

During this OOC negociation, the attacking party might present an idea to the captured or subdued HSC member they might not be alright with.

“But this is what my character would do” as a rebuttal is not an acceptable answer when told NO. You control your character. Your character doesn’t control you. Some injuries hinder RP to an extent where characters are no longer playable. HSC members are expected to offer alternatives they can work into their characters. Injuries fitting the severity of the situation. Saying NO to everything leads nowhere and does not contribute anything to open communication.

Giving the heads up before attacking is common courtesy.

Personally, I am a big fan of discovering things ICly, not OOCly. But you don’t have to be super specific on your heads up. While the fears of people metagaming things are understandable, HSC members are expected to not participate in such tactics. If there is proof saying otherwise, show it. If it’s just a suspicion, speak up. That’s what the officers are there for. 

Not only will giving the heads up open a dialogue to further pursue RP, it’s a great way of making sure you will not be left hanging dry mid RP. What if the player has to log soon? What if they have a guild event they are a crucial part of in an hour? Better to save your exciting engagement for later, when everyone can enjoy themselves and really go at it.

But enough with the serious for now.

I won’t pretend I speak for everyone, but at the end of the day, I’m here to have fun. I treat this as I do all my other hobbies. If I don’t enjoy it, it makes no damn sense. And because this is a social hobby, one you participate in with other people, that means it should be fun for those people I am playing with as well. For everyone. These guild requirements are a way to keep everyone on the same page so that we may enjoy the story together.

So bring on your villains. Bring on your allies.

Just bring it on.

Let’s make stories together.

[dark--s0ul-blog]

[piercetheliving-blog]

((If you'd rather do this sort of RP in-game or if there's any problem at all, just go ahead and answer privately: )) Following a kill with a knife--personal, respectful--does Desmond find himself with a druidic follower, sticking close to shadows and keeping blazing eyes locked upon him. After many minutes, the feline appears before him, standing directly in his path. "Ye smell li'e blood. Li'e death." She pauses, taking a moment to think. "Li'e th' closin' breath o' a life."

The bloodied dagger in Desmond’s right hand is in a firm grip. Heavy breaths fall upon the fresh corpse as adrenaline rushes through the professional’s body. Eventually, he uses the fallen thug’s body to push himself to his feet and removes his left glove to straighten out any small wrinkles in his well tailored grey suit. He begins to make his exit from the alleyway, adjusting his grey mask which covers the lower half of his face from the bridge of his nose to fall down around his neck, forming into the look of a small formal grey scarf.Desmond’s face is illusioned with the aid of shadow magic. A more tan complexion with a chipped left ear and green eyes. Suddenly, the feline’s form makes itself known. His walk calmly comes to a stop and his gaze darts all along her figure with a stern expression. The suited man’s left hand rests against his stomach with bloodied dagger still in hand as the woman begins to speak. He doesn’t immediately verbally respond as he assesses the situation. “As do many in this world, druid. I’m sure you’re aware of that.” he slowly inhales, “That man…” he slightly nods his head backwards to the corpse, though keeps his eyes directly on her blazing hues, “…was he your friend?”

[theunfortunatedruid]

The fire flickers as she blinks, the tip of her long tail flicking slowly from side to side in careful calculation. Her ribcage expands as she draws a deep breath to get a better scent on the blood on Desmond’s dagger. “…If ‘e was?” she asks in that same careful tone. Almost invisibly, her muscles slowly tense as she prepares to leap away if the need arises. Due to her thick coat of fur, the only evidence in such a change lies in a slight shift in which lines of fur stand on her skin rather than lying flat to it.

[piercetheliving-blog]

Desmond Pierce is as perceptive as a skilled detective, examining her feline form intensely the moments he wasn’t staring directly into her eyes. All the fur around her begins to stand up, and Desmond releases a small, sharp exhale out of his nostrils. If she were able to pick up on darker magics, it may feel as if a dark fog of shadow magic were creeping up on the area around them, though none would be visibly seen. “Then it would make sense for you to be here.” he slowly and calmly says. “Then you may desire to avenge him. If not, state your purpose and what you intend to do with what event you just saw.”

  The hand that rested against his stomach raises some. Open-palmed facing her just about chest-height for him. “Choose your words wisely, Druid. There are many who do not, and later regret their choices when they are damned to wander the Underworld for eternity.”