#tristanthcrn

[vilarps]

tristanthcrn replied to your post: What's a good number of skeleton bios for the...

REDO AND REOPEN

but time and effort and energy and also the court 

[ravengirlwrites]

℧

Send me ℧ for me to generate a scenario for our muses

Zeke and Arthur pretend to be in a relationship for the purpose of an undercover mission.

“Okay, so don’t say a fucking word,” Zeke hissed. His shoes crunched and squelched on the sodden gravel path as he came around from the other side of the car. “You’re literally the worst liar out of all of us.”

Arthur’s brow wrinkled. The fine lines of his scars folded, too, one shiny thread just barely failing to match with the other. Zeke resisted the irritated urge to smoothe out Arthur’s stupid confused face with his thumb. “What?” 

Was that a rising note of panic in Artie’s voice or indignation? Moxie grumbled, shifting to stand up on all four feet as if she, at least, expected to argue Arthur’s case.

“It’s fuckin’ true,” Zeke said to the dog, no regrets. He cracked his neck. “Follow my goddamn lead.”

He looped his arm through Arthur’s and dragged him along the beaten path to the nature preserve gate, where a little office stood listing to one moldering side. In it, a bored woman reading a tattered paperback sat waiting for her shift to end. 

“Hiya, ma’am.” Zeke pushed his glasses up on his nose, doing his best impression of a nerd. Arthur stared in mute horror. 

“Hello,” Ma’am said, wary of the young people who had suddenly appeared before her. Zeke, as he was ordinarily, was the kind of scowling motherfucker that put people off, but when he was channeling his inner Arthur, he found they warmed to him in a way he was not sure he trusted. 

“So, me and my--” Zeke leaned in, lowered his voice. C’mon, asshole, bigger eyes. “--boyfriend are doing our, um, anniversary thing? Could we, like, go and walk around the place here ...?”

“It’s by appointment,” the woman said, but Zeke could tell by the way she put her book down that she was game. “Do you kids have an appointment?”

“Oh, wow.” Zeke bit his lower lip, just like Arthur was doing in that very moment. He squeezed Arthur’s elbow. The other boy squeaked. Cute. Way to sell it. Zeke stopped himself from squeezing a second time. “Uh, can we make an appointment?”

“There’s a fee--”

“I got it,” Arthur said, quickly. He eyed Zeke, flushing bright pink down his neck. Arthur squeezed back, his hands curling around Zeke’s forearm. “Uh, babe.”

Zeke should have made himself say aww or some saccharine shit like that, but it didn’t happen. Nothing came out his mouth for the next second. He swallowed, and was silent.

The lady in the booth saved it. “Okay, okay.” She offered them a sheet to sign and accepted fifteen dollars in fucking cash from Arthur’s wallet. Zeke thought he’d probably shuffle off some tips in Arthur’s direction later. Taking one for the team there.

“How long?” she asked. 

“What?” Zeke said, like a dumbass.

“How long have you kids been together?”

It was Arthur that filled in the silence. “Since senior year,” he piped in. 

“Bless you,” the woman said, sighing. “My high school boyfriend was an asshole.”

“Yeah, well, uh, mine is too,” Arthur said, cheerfully, nervously, hands fluttering as he folding in five dollars change. He glanced at Zeke from under his lashes. “I still like him, though.”

Zeke sucked in a breath and turned, letting himself through the gate into the preserve. He could hear Arthur trotting along behind him, Moxie ambling along at an easy gait, unimpressed by either the skitter of squirrels or the smell of any lurking monsters.

“Hurry up,” Zeke said, when they were out of earshot of the lady at the gate. “Cassie and her friend are gonna meet us on the institute ground coming in from the other side.”

“Okay,” Arthur said. “That wasn’t so bad, I guess.” 

“Sure.” 

Arthur shut up. He knew how Zeke ended conversations. There would be no post-scheme Q&A. There was not an opening left to ask why he’d chosen the gambit he had, or why he wouldn’t talk about it. It’d been easy, that was all.

Maybe it’d been too easy.

[vilarps]

tristanthcrn replied to your post: at my parents’ for the holidays and my brother...

tell your brother that is the best pun and also the most painful pun

@punk-rock-pixie

[ravengirlwrites]

♥ What's the WORST thing that has happened to you rp wise?

Salty AF Munday Meme

I have generally been pretty lucky. I don’t have any major OOC drama horror stories! I credit this to being an rp grandma.

The most demoralizing, however, are definitely those moments when I really work up an app and it gets rejected! Ahaha, I know,  I know, that’s just part of the scene, and I’m used to it. But it always sucks when you pile on 10+ hours on an app that’s a no-go! I think the worst times are when I get rejected multiple times and each time the admin says, “I’m so sorry, we would still love to have you in the group! maybe app for another character?” … and then I get beat out again! That has happened to me a couple of times!  

You gotta take those moments philosophically and improve from them, but damn, you know what I mean? In the moment it is just the woooorst feeling.

[blackwidow-writes]

✒ (darcy/bingley)

SEND ME “✒” FOR A NOTE FROM MY MUSE TO YOURS

My dear friend,

Glad news from Hingham Bridge, or as glad as we may expect in times such as this. The lines are holding and, if I allow myself to be fool enough to hope, we are advancing upon the undead in this quarter. I will not, however, allow myself to be blind to the truth. 

The ghouls have become greater in number, strength, and – it is somehow possible – intelligence most of all. They are forming organized battalions of some sort, attacking in numbered waves at certain times of the day when we are least defended.

I remind you, Bingley, that you are not to join me at the bridge, as you will only become a liability. You will not have gained enough skill in the short time we have been practicing together to serve any use here, save, perhaps, as a water boy, which is a rank entirely too low for someone of your stature.

Instead, let me remind you of what I relayed when last we spake: that Miss Jane Bennet does indeed return your feelings. Her sister, my last meeting with whom I do not need to remind you of, made it quite clear that she was devastated to hear that you had left Netherfield, and that my incorrect observations had “ruined the happiness of a most beloved sister.”

Return to Netherfield, Bingley, and marry her if your heart is not yet lost to another.

I am always your Friend,

Fitzwilliam Darcy

[ravengirlwrites]

slurred words omg

Send “slurred words” to hear my muse describe yours whilst ridiculously drunk.

Zeke > Arthur

“Man ... you know what it is to have a dog stare you the fuck down because it like ... knows? Fuck. I know that I don’t like ... I don’t treat him the way I really ... Arthur, not the fucking dog. I know. I know I’m an asshole. Pro-level, Olympic shit asshole. Man, he puts up with way too much. Waaay too much.”

[ravengirlwrites]

"Care to join me?" (zeke/arthur)

Send me “Care to join me?” and I’ll generate a number and my character will react to yours asking them to join them in…

29. Illegally leaving the country

“It’s just north of the border,” Zeke says. He’s assembling the duffel with fearless surety, a man unafraid of heat: guns, ammunition, a hammer, a bat slotted in longwise. He’ll pound the nails in when he gets the the hunting ground. He’s going to turn that monster skull into fucking mashed potatoes. “Me and Cass got a tail on it. Fuckin’ Cass, man, she put a legit tracker thing on it. I don’t recognize that woman.” 

The cold makes his nose run. It’s deep November, but Zeke has no intention of trying to deal with the boiler tonight, not when he’s going to be gone for who knows how long.. He smiles at Arthur, who made him put on a jacket earlier, a rare smile. Arthur frowns. He knows that Zeke only looks happy when he’s about to pull some shit.

“Dude, she’s making sense,” Zeke goes on, piling a blanket over top of the gear and then wadded up clothes. “I think it’s the one they use for ducks and shit. Fuck if I know how she’s using it.”

“You’re never going to get that stuff past the border patrol,” Arthur says, at last. “Zeke, this is stupid.”

“Ain’t going up the road. We’re gonna pull up just past the reservoir lake and go on foot.” Zeke shrugs. “Cassie says it’s wandering, hunting, so it may come back down into the States anyway. I mean, eventually.”

“It’s hunting?” Arthur’s voice pitches up into a fearful whine. Moxie snuffles, a full-bodied doggy rumbling that tells Zeke he’s being watched until further notice.

“Fuck off,” Zeke tells the dog. “Yeah, what do you think it’s doing? It’s hunting. We’re not gonna kill it because it’s a precious fucking angel. You want in?”

“No!” Arthur shakes his head, runs his fingers through his blond hair, tamping it down to his scalp while he searches for words. He draws his fingertips down his cheeks, matching the shiny pale treads of his scars too perfectly for it to be totally an accident. “If it’s up in Canada, then ...” 

“What, it’s someone else’s problem?” The zipper screams as Zeke tugs it  shut in one stroke. “Fuck no. My bitch, my problem, my kill. I’m gonna murder that thing. Don’t you want to?”

“Zeke--” 

“No, I’m serious,” Zeke says. When he steps forward, Moxie rises and bats a paw at Zeke’s waist, her doggy claws digging lines in his jeans down his thigh. “Fuck off, Mox. Don’t you want to? I mean, for real?” 

Zeke’s about as close as Captain Moxie will let him go right now, and she’s grumbling like a motherfucker about it. He backs off, slinging the duffel bag over his shoulder. The floorboards under his boots, bowed with age, creak on his way to the door. 

“You could come if you want. Get closure and shit,” Zeke says without looking over his shoulder. It’s a stupid plan--Arthur’s not wrong--but it’s the only plan Zeke can even bear to think about. “Nothing’s more closure than beating that sumbitch to death, I guaranfuckingtee it.”

[vilarps]

He eyed her as she moved about the room, seeing the things that once belonged to to the human soldiers. The garrison had fallen easily, and they took back the Siren’s Lake by sunset, and it left her looking lighter, softer than she had in ages. He liked her best like this, gentle and youthful, like the woman she had to have been once upon a time. Her eyes glimmered in the candlelight as she ran her fingers over old belongings -- books, shoes, handkerchiefs -- and settling on an ivory brush. Dagny approached the mirror to see herself, running over the plans for tomorrow.

”You’ll be a dragon throughout the battle, of course,” she said, not losing the glow of victory even as she thought about bloodshed. Dagny brushed her hair carelessly. “I want the men to think I’ve got more power than they can imagine. You’ll rip their hearts out.”

The thought of such intimate violence set him on edge. “Will do.” He swallowed.

“Don’t look at me like that, Tristan.” She didn’t need to see him to know how his expression had shifted. It dissolved the glow and she became herself again, sharper and battle-weary. She continued brushing, refusing to meet his eyes. “There’s no wishing someone else will fight.”

He knew. He knew. It didn’t make it easier. nevertheless, Tristan steeled his heart. “We’ll shatter them.” Whatever it took to make that glow come back.

@tristanthcrn