Personal Rules | Muse list (a WIP atm) | Click “Keep reading” for rp excerpts.
Imo it’s important to know each other to find a good roleplay partner, so I’ll try my best to get to know you, slow as I am. I ask you to have patience, I love to roleplay, but my pace is often times a crawl for others.
The following are some rp excerpts, from newest to oldest. I don’t expect you to mirror my style, I simply get curious how someone rp’s firsthand, so I offer you a peek likewise.
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“Life in HOME had never been easy. Tranquility and attrition always came hand in hand.
NAME’s headspace and thoughts were all organized in neat boxes, sorted and labelled to pick and discard in the midst of a nebulous space in between. The ones tossed away were never truly gone, the material worn-down in a way that meant misuse, but still held together by never-fading snaps in time and enough feelings to drown in if he wasn’t careful.
PLACE was never a box; it’d be a fool’s errand to cage nearly decades chockfull of memories when he never meant to forget about them in the first place. It was a gradual thing, but the moment he woke up safe and warm with a roof over his head that wasn’t made of stalagmite, no longer afraid of the darkness that lurked in the safe walls of too-expensive material, NAME knew. He would give his life for this place.”
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“In PLACE, there is no stronger scent than that of freshly spilled blood.
It permeates through the burning cold, and for NAME it is the single memory that rings in his mind like no other. He can taste it on his tongue, feel the tangy aftertaste on a single smack of his lips as his body relaxes preemptively for a fight. It's an instinctive reaction, one bred by the horrorterrors and nurtured later by his own will.
NAME would compare it to vodka; both ignite the same spark of anticipation singing underneath his skin. It keeps him moving and alert, warding off the natural call of sleepy warmth from his uniform's bulk. It often was a welcome distraction from his most recent, assignment--the same one that had been doled out for the better part of a year now.
[ … ] An assignment that was being toyed with a couple of miles from the furthest camp in his division. [ … ]
NAME could feel the beginnings of laughter bubbling in his chest. If he were to "help" now, this would be a lovely piece of blackmail; maybe he would be snagging that one long-con mission right under COWORKER’s nose.
"Let's see... Why don't I help you out a little, friend?"
In a flash of steel, NAME carefully measured the strength of his shot. He didn't want to kill his unsuspecting accomplice. This guy was his ticket outside, after all.”
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“When NAME opens his eyes, sunlight is streaming out of the window. Gentle amber spills across his sheets in a soft glow; the more he stares at it, the more something as pure and bright loses its touch with reality in his mind.
If haven were to exist in pockets and small moments, this would be one of his. Seconds tick by and he gets restless.
Radio static. Morning calm...
It’s all white noise.
He can't tell seconds apart from minutes anymore, there are no clocks in his room. Instead, he knows it’s time to get up when his hands start to tremble. His fingers twitch and curl around the sheets, dislodging the calm. The world fades back into awareness from his safe haven in bits and pieces.
Leaves rustle, his heart beats.
Slow breaths, sheets crease.
He’s awake now.
Gentle breeze runs through his veins, echoing in his bones and between his fingers like crossing hollow caverns and mountain peaks. His posture sways as he sits like a baby deer and it's both frustrating and familiar. His body feels weak today again as if it can barely move without taking a gargantuan effort to articulate all of his muscles and joints the right way.
This is not the first of his friends he’s been ready to fight. Not the second, even. At least this one is going right out the gate with the expectation of fun and not the sting of betrayal one way or the other. Except there’s a hum and the attention has shifted. For all that Luffy misses things, falls more often than not into the category of drawing the short-straw in terms of brainpower, he doesn’t miss this. The mood has shifted and he blinks, twisting to look over a shoulder at the island and then back at the smirking Law.
It’s…not what he was expecting.
It’s promising anyway.
“No holds.” All-in. It’s a glorified game of tag, one of his favorites to play, and if the point is to subdue Law then he’ll be using everything at his disposal, including at the very least his second gear. An hour can go by quickly when traversing unknown landscapes and he doesn’t have the benefit of reading the not so proverbial ‘room’ first.
“If I win…” he starts, pulling the hat from where it hangs at his shoulders and securing it to the rail to await his return. “Then you do three things I say. No matter what.” It seems of fair value. It’s certainly not a week of having to tone down the antics on board and really his ideas are the best so it should be easy for Law to agree. The landscape is given a final once-over in consideration and then he’s rolling out a shoulder in preparation for launching himself over the water and onto the rust-red soil. “You need a head-start? I can count to ten.”
“You don’t get to quit, you don’t get to quit on me.”
Theophania turned her golden eyes to meet with Caius' gaze, piercing and pointed. She knew that his emotions would get the better of him eventually, she just never dreamed that it would be so soon. The curse of immortality always treated each person differently. Some succumbed to madness, others to sorrow, and for those like her to the arts. But Caius was not like her. She always knew he wasn't, and yet she allowed herself to hope.
Time had shown the folly in her ways. Indeed he fell into the despair of endless life. When once he spent his days in the sun, staring at the clouds and reading poetry from the likes of Virgil, or Lucan, or Tibullus. He would lose himself in the worlds these men built around him, walked their halls of dreams, and dance through his life with the joy of a child. Theophania had given him the Dark Gift, praying the entire time to whatever god or demon would listen. Praying that he would remain the way she knew and loved him. But it was folly.
He became a shell.
Bright days were replaced by endless nights. She knew the fatal error when he returned from watching his last sunset, the light of his eyes having set with the sun. Ever since then, she watched him disintegrate before her. While she spent her nights lost in her art, throwing oils on the canvas and exploring the world as she never had before, he was lost in melancholy.
"You cannot say I didn't try," Theophania finally said, the corners of her lips down turned in a pained grimace. The thought that she just gave him up was nonsense. Her heart ached for his pain, she never hid that from him. And she knew he would resent her for it nonetheless. Despite her efforts, he drowned in his misery. She could no longer hang on to the memory of a man she couldn't remember anymore. She would not allow him to drag her down with him. She knew the pains of their existence, but she also knew the joys.
Theophania turned her back to him. Breaking eye contact sent a twist through her stomach that nearly pulled the breath from her lungs. "You will find your clan. I know you will. But I can no longer be a part of that. It is time for me to move on. Do no stop me, Caius, for I love you more than I've loved any other. Find peace, my love."
And so she walked. She walked and walked and walked. The destination no longer mattered. Her home was an unwelcome place to her now. She hoped Caius would make use of it. Her feet brought her to the edge of the forest. Haunted, the townsfolk would say. And maybe it was. Theophania never found a soul at unrest in this place. Perhaps hers would be the first. 'Perhaps that is the way things are meant to be,' she stepped beyond the veil and disappeared into the wood.
"Helmet."
"Awh, but 'Dashi, you know it messes my ha-" The small boy protested, eyes wide in a mock puppy face as he gestured to the mess of black hair he attempted to call a hairstyle.
"Your hair is a bird's nest anyway, bonehead; and you know it's against the law to not wear one." Tadashi turned awkwardly on the seat, giving his younger brother a knowing smile, "You wanna get locked up again? Imagine how much weight Aunt Cass will put on."
"But-"
"No helmet, no bot fight." This time his look was more forceful. Hiro quickly fell silent, pouting a little as he positioned the helmet gracelessly atop his head.
---
"Listen, Hiro," Tadashi's words were muffled under the sound of the moped's engine, but Hiro could already tell he was in for another 'wasted potential' lecture, despite the noise. He rolled his eyes.
"You need to find something more productive to do with your time. You're smart, but so are those bot-fighters."
Hiro let out a snort, "Pffft, you think those guys are smart? Give me a break big brother."
"Hiro." Tadashi's tone made him flinch, "One day they're gonna figure you out, Yama already did. And, one day," He faltered, "One day I might not be there to save you."
"I'm a big boy, Tadashi," Hiro mocked, "I can take care of myself."
The moped skidded to a halt on the side of the road, sending the smaller boy reeling into his brother's back.
"Tadashi, what are y-"
"You're fourteen, Hiro!" The college student twisted around to face his brother, a sad anger burning in his eyes. "You're just a kid!"
Hiro searched his brother's face for the usual glimmer of humour. Nothing. He shrunk back into the seat, his usual cockiness rapidly disappearing.
Tadashi cupped his face in his hands, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Y-you're just a kid, Hiro. I can't, I can't lose you too. Not after Mum and Dad."
Hiro remained silent, his eyes fixed on the the road. He couldn't pluck up the courage to look his brother in the eye at the mention of their parents. He knew it was normally a taboo subject.
Another sigh from Tadashi, "I just need you to know that I'm not always gonna be there to bail you out." An awkward silence. "But I know I can't expect you to stay my little brother forever." He reached out to give the smaller boy's shoulder a small squeeze, but Hiro flinched away.
Downcast, Tadashi turned back to the road. "C'mon, let's get you to that botfight."
Solitude was his companion after the day he found the Void.
It was what he preferred. If he had gotten close to someone, the prophet would have used it against him. It was the reason why he had not returned to his normal lifestyle where he stayed with his wife and daughter.
Yet from time to time, he would have gone to watch over her from afar. There were no reasons to go to her in his current form. She would have thought that he was dead or still on his journey.
Kassadin breathed in the void essence, given to him through his mask.
The thoughts of his daughter ran through. The prophet knew. He knew that it was his daughter. He knew that the void walker would have shown up and do something to prevent it.
...
With each passing days, The Void grows stronger. The rift becoming one step closer to opening and destroying Valoran.
And yet, the people of Valoran decide to either worship or ignore such a thing.
The fools..
Do they not understand that they will only use them for their own purpose.
That in the end, they will be killed by the things they allow in.
There was no time for him to dwell on such things.
The Void must be stopped, even if it was only him who will oppose it.
