did you hear the good news ? we’ve just announced our next acceptance date: sunday, july 26! we’ve got a buffy the vampire slayer inspired plot and some of our delicious open skeletons up for grabs. we’d especially love to see a little more love for the splinter, the grave, and the altar before sunday’s acceptance! magnolia creek could be your new home, too. just don’t expect it to let you leave…
happy thursday, tags ! i’m a new face around the main, popping in to point you toward maggot creek. if dead things, small towns, and bad ideas are your thing, you might want to take a look around. we’re a supernatural horror rp set in the dying town of magnolia creek, where rot runs deeper than the roots and some things should’ve stayed buried. our open skeletons are waiting to be claimed. so come take a look at our plot, explore our pages, and see who might call to you!
a lot of people on this site really think that you're either oppressed or privileged with absolutely no in-between when actually most people (myself included) are going to be oppressed in some ways and privileged in others
❝ i love this world, even in its hard places. a bird too must love this world, even in its hard places. so, even if the effort might come to nothing, you need to do something. ❞
I. INTRODUCTION.
name ― utp.
age ― 25-32.
species ― werewolf.
gender & pronouns ― utp.
face claim ― utp.
status ― open.
II. DIGGING DEEPER.
growing up among the werewolves, you always felt more beast than human. your home was the forest and the wind and the dark that settled between the pines at night. the pack was the only family you ever knew, and for a long time, that felt like all you needed. you stayed in your wolf form more often than not, half-feral and always hungry for something beyond your reach. you didn't have the words for what it was exactly. you just knew it was there, just past the trees, just out of sight. you often wondered if you had parents once. real ones. sometimes, you dreamt about them in your sleep. you saw the ghost of your mother's hands, heard the echo of your father's laugh. but no matter how you tried to remember them, their faces and names were blank spaces in your memory, white as the moon you were bound to.
the pack ran you hard, and the years blurred into each other until you couldn't keep them straight anymore. you followed where they led, hunted what they hunted, and answered to the pull of the moon. slowly, the human parts of you went quiet, then quieter, then nearly silent. you stopped dreaming about your parents completely. you stopped wondering about what was beyond the trees. the hunger was the loudest thing in you, and it was simple, and it was easier to focus on that than everything else. so you ate. you ran. you forgot. you told yourself you were wild and ferocious and free, and what could be better than that?
and then someone called your name. you didn't even remember what it was at that point, but something in you rose at the sound of it, warm and sudden, like a long-forgotten instinct waking. whispered by a face you didn't recognize or almost didn't, someone from before the pack. and they said your name like they knew you, like you were still someone who could be known that way. you were still in your wolf form — you hardly ever left it anymore — but somehow, they recognized you anyway, from your eyes, your movements, something that hadn't gone entirely animal no matter how hard you'd tried. you looked up at them, for just a moment. and then you ran. ran like a startled animal, back into the dark between the trees. but the name followed you there, and something small and stubborn stirred in the place where the quiet had been, and it wouldn't go back to sleep no matter how hard you ran.
it took time. more time than you expected, more than felt fair. the name had cracked something open in you, and once cracked, it kept widening, the human parts of you pressing through the gap. like your old name was a tether that pulled you back to your core. you started shifting back without meaning to, waking up in your human form, disoriented and cold, the world suddenly too loud and too bright and too big for your little human body. you'd forgotten how much it hurt to have hands. how strange it felt to stand upright. how quiet the world sounded without being able to hear your own heartbeat. the pack noticed. nothing ever gets past wolves. you left before they could decide what to do about it, slipping away in the dark. you didn't look back. you'd learned that much, at least, from the years of running.
it's strange, learning to be mostly human again, seeing the world through brand new eyes. everything is softer than you remembered. the colors. the light. the way the sun feels on your skin. you'd forgotten what it felt like to want small things like a warm meal and a roof over your head and the sound of someone saying your name. you think you're falling in love with it, with being human, with being alive in this beautifully weak body. a good song coming through a radio. the smell of coffee. the comfort of a blanket pulled close, like a wolf-mother cocooning her pup. the way humans laugh at things that aren't funny, just because it feels good to laugh. it's been six years now, and you're still learning new things, still waking up some mornings expecting fur and finding only skin. the wolf is still in there. there is something in you that will always be half-wild, and you've made your peace with that. but you're choosing this, choosing humanity, choosing the world. even if it means you might die protecting it.
III. CONNECTIONS.
the blade ― you remember it. out of everything from those years, blurred and formless and barely yours, you remember this. you remember because they were the first but not the last. you were feral and running and something got in the way and you bit them before you understood what you were doing. you didn't stay to see what happened after. you ran, just like you always ran, back into the dark between the trees. you recognized them the moment you saw them. they don't know it was you who ruined their life, who changed the course of it forever. you could keep it that way. you've been thinking about it every day since you got here, trying to figure out what the right thing is. deep down, you think you already know what that is.
the wound ― you didn't expect to like them at first. they're serious, careful, and you are anything but. you are still learning how humans are supposed to dress, still stopping dead in the middle of conversations because a sweet smell came through an open window. a half-tamed hound. you thought they'd find you exhausting, like most people did. but they didn't. they just...stayed. asked you questions about what you were relearning, listened to the answers without making you feel foolish for not knowing them already. you find them quietly steady and grounding, something to focus on when the wolf in you gets loud. they were the one who brought you into this fight in the first place. you weren't really looking for a friend, but somehow, you found one anyway. you're choosing to count that as one of the things about being human that makes it worth it.
the hollow ― they were important to you once. you knew that the moment you saw them. even half-feral, even barely holding onto language, something in you recognized them at the edge of the trees. they looked at your wolf body like they knew exactly who was underneath it. they whispered your name with such gentleness, such care. and you ran away. that was all you knew how to do, all you could do. you didn't know what happened to them after. you looked for them for years, returning to the same place, following the same trail without ever finding them. you didn't know they were already gone. you didn't know until you walked into the same room and found them still here, fighting the same fight as you. you're still not entirely sure how you know them. you don't know if even they remember at this point. but you do know you owe them your life for helping you reach your humanity again. that's enough to start with.
the altar ― from the moment you met them, you didn't like them. there's something in them that the wolf recognizes and wants nothing to do with. you can't explain it as anything other than instinct, a voice from within that says they can't be trusted, that they're lying about nearly everything. they're too old and too polished. too careful about the words they choose. you've spent six years trying to learn which instincts to trust now that you're choosing to be human. the human parts of you want to give them the benefit of the doubt, to be fair, to be reasonable, to be the kind of person who doesn't decide things on instinct alone. but the wolf doesn't care about fair. the wolf says run. you're trying, trying to be more than the wolf. it's a work in progress.
hi, everyone ! there are three more questions in the inbox, but they'll all require a bit more thought, so i'm planning on tackling them tomorrow! i promise i'm not ignoring anyone! in the meantime, if you're seeing us in the tags, we have seven open skeletons, and i'd love to see applications for any of them! come check us out and leave me some asks to wake up to? we're only two applications away from setting our next acceptance date, and with any luck, we'll be accepting by the end of the week! don't miss your chance to join in on the fun!
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