😡 : Worst role play-related encounter and what advice you would give to others to avoid similar situations?
I’ll just kick off by saying that as of September this year I will have been writing Thera in the Tumblr RPC for nine years, and I have seen some shit.
I’ve been bullied, backstabbed, attacked, lied to, lied about, bitched at, bitched over, guilt-tripped, looked down on and ganged up on. Plus I’ve seen similar and worse done to others (often by the same people).
And often enough, for the first time at least, you don’t see it coming. There’s no advice I could give that’s going to let you totally avoid this stuff until you see it or experience it once and can recognise the signs next time. And every single one of them seems like the worst at the time.
But the thing I can say is - watch people’s actions, not their words.
Your time and effort matter as much as anyone else’s, don't waste them on people who won’t give you any of theirs. Don’t let people take you for granted.
RP is a hobby, but it is a hobby that both partners should enjoy, and sitting there being ignored or strung along is not enjoyable. Find other people to RP with who are better for you, and who will put as much into writing with you as you do for them.
Perhaps this was stupid. She didn't care. She didn't care about anything right now except getting the hell out of her own head. And maybe her vibrant rainbow clothes were getting a lot of sideways glances but the Doctor didn't care. She was in a bar, a human bar, and she didn't really care where or when the TARDIS had taken her. There was a ginger beer in front of her, an empty glass to the side.
The bubbles stung and danced in her nose, pleasantly sweet mixing into spicy and her head was swimming. The first time this body had something stronger than a ginger candy, and perhaps she had rushed the first drink because she was feeling very floaty and giggly. Her head was propped up on one arm, staring foggily at a peanut on the countertop, absolutely fascinated by it as her head swum.
It was as normal of a day as possible in the TARDIS, when a glowing cube appeared. The Doctor immediately opened it, looking eager. His face immediately fell, and his hands began to tremble.
"Sarah?" He called, barely keeping his voice from quivering. "We have to go to a funeral."
The Doctor stumbled down the road towards the manor, knowing that she just needed to get somewhere safe to heal emotionally and physically from everything that had just happened. She was not entirely sure why she chose to see Sarah Jane but she knew as soon as she reached her front door that she would be safe.
The Doctor knocked on the door hurriedly until Sarah opened it up which was when the Doctor went to speak but instead, promptly fainted from the pain she was in.
It seemed like this game of cat and mouse had gone on forever, all over a simple electronic device. That was the short version of this dilemma. The long version, was that Bowen Chuuno, an Operator for the Ministry of Science, was trying to keep sight of a group of thieves who had stolen the prototype model of the Mark II Inter-Dimensional Networking Device, or IDND for short. What was meant to be a local chase, soon became one of multiversal proportions.
Dimension after dimension, world after world, he didn't even have time to rest, for there was no telling what could happen if these guys were able to get away. It was like the further he was set back, the more dangerous things would get, if he failed. Even at one stage, just as it seemed he lost them, he managed to catch up to them, just before their latest jump, to the next universe.
One which, he hoped, would be the last jump.
This latest world he had come to, it was a bit reminiscent of what he might be used to at home, though certainly the demographic was different. Britain, south of London. South... Croydon was it? That's what he got from the signs. Clearly this place hasn't got as far as his world has, since everything looked... older. Good thing he managed to find a newspaper with a date on it. 1981. What a time to be alive. Still, there wasn't time to stall, there was no time to waste at all. He was still able to track the stolen device, since despite the thieves cunning ability to steal it, they somehow haven't been able to figure out how the thing worked. This played to his advantage, since it could still be tracked, followed, keeping the game alive, for hopefully long enough for him to find it.
If only he had a proper geographic map, this would be so much easier. His IDND is that outdated, that while it's picking up the second one, it's only showing a radar display, which meant navigation was difficult. No car, no transport... no money, his cash clearly wasn't valid in this world. A stroke of bad luck, but clearly he was used to walking by now, probably a few dimensions ago at that. Things were starting to get dark as he got closer. Out into the fields, away from the houses, soon away from a road, a dirt path only leading him to it's current location. It hadn't moved at all, which meant this was where it was being stored. Jeez, he hoped this had to be it, this just HAD to be it. He was clearly running on fumes, adrenaline, with no caffiene, coffee or anything to keep him awake. He just knew, he couldn't lose this. He had to get that device back.
The building soon came into view, just as the stars would light the night sky. A tall building, clearly. Was it.. a warehouse of sorts? An old one at that, considering the brick design and all. With no other structure in sight, this had to be it, this had to be where it's held. Could it be the thieves' hideout? Well, there were vehicles parked out front. There had to be people about, that meant, he had to be careful.
Find a door, a back door, take care, check for people, lights, anything, sneak in. He's done this plenty of times, averting guards, soldiers, all sorts. A group of burglars surely wouldn't be too hard, but he mustn't assume, for they may well be packing some serious heat. The lights of course were all on in this place, which meant activity was about. Crates, giant containers, there were certainly many places to hide and walk through. Best to turn the audio indicator off. It wasn't needed, he was getting closer... and he did not want to get caught.
How peculiar, that the spacing between each container, or stacks of crates, was quite wide. Not narrow at all. Maybe that was for vehicles. In a few cases, he had to hide in some of the empty ones, as people, clad in black, passed through. Their clothes looked casual, which didn't give off the impression that they were from any big organisation. That might help things a bit.
Finally, on the edge of one of the walls, there was what looked to be an office in view, with windows. Lights on in there as well. Nobody inside, but on the desk, squarely on the desk, was that prototype IDND. The very thing he was looking for. Just a bit of weaving and hiding again until he was right at the door. Look right, left, up, ahead, nobody around. Good. He can breathe a sigh of relief, as he stepped into the office, hand out, about to reach for that device. It all seemed like he was about to wi-
*CLICK*
"Don't move."
...Well, where did that guy come from?
His hand was only centimetres from the stolen device, the blonde standing still as his eyes darted to the individual behind him, not saying a word in response. A tall man, again, clad in dark clothing, with a beanie on and all... and a nice looking rifle in his hands. Looking at the clip, this one might be semi-automatic. Yeah, these guys were packing.
Still, the gun aside. He did not see this man coming at all. That was just.. too quick! How? Actually, forget that, that wasn't important. What was important right now, was getting out of this now difficult situation.
It was such a bright and sunny, ordinary day. It felt like ages since he’d been on such a quiet little street. He’d parked the TARDIS down the street a ways, needing time to collect himself before she and all the kids came running at the sound. He wanted to talk to her alone first, and really he was curious if she would recognize him without the phone box.
For all these reasons, the Doctor was now strolling casually down a suburban street to ring the doorbell of an old friend. Just when had he gotten so terribly domestic, he wondered.
It hadn’t taken very long after her unexpected visit from the past for him to make his way here. He’d spent a few days, of course, debating the pros and cons. But ultimately, he needed this. And he had promised. He rang the doorbell and waited.
If he’d been dealing with this in his own time, in the 51st century, or hell, even when he was still with the Time Agency, he’d have the tools to probably make this a relatively easy fix, and probably be home in time for dinner. But he’s over three millennia before his own time, and he hasn’t been a time agent for over a century, and so here he is, covered in some foul sort of alien slime (non-toxic, thankfully, but stinking to high heaven) and trying to figure out the best way of dealing with the object before him before either a) the bloody thing detonates, taking the cave, him, and at least half the city above with it or b) he gets found by the aliens which have planted it, meaning it detonates anyway, and he probably gets a less than pleasant experience.
He had never planned on staying with Torchwood this long.
Maybe he’s missing something. He’s probably missing something, something that would be stupidly obvious to anyone else, but the slime is somewhat distracting, and he doesn’t know enough about this damn century. It’s not like this will kill him (he doesn’t think) but he’d still rather not get blown up if he can avoid it.
