ooc. people?? knock knock??
Misplaced Lens Cap

@theartofmadeline
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@taramcly
ooc. people?? knock knock??
INDEPENDENT DISCORD BASED WLW MULTI-MUSE RP ACCOUNT [about / rules / muses]
Reach out to touch, feel these quivers rush through The taste runs sweetly in the distance I could hear them calling our names
i’m not leaving this blog behind but if you ever wanna find me, there’s a discord based wlw multimuse of mine. CLICK.
( not feeling much the vibe to be on dash. so add me on dis.cor.d [maclaying#9197] or send me yours so we can do some ic thingssss. bye. )
Let's talk about 'take your time'
When I say ‘take your time’, what I mean is:
Take. Your. Time.
If you have muse for another thread? You can reply to that.
If you have muse for another character? Guess what; you can reply to that too.
If you’re getting feels for another ship? OMFG. YOU H0R. No, seriously. You can reply to that, lmfao.
If you’re overwhelmed with other threads? It’s okay; seriously. I don’t hate you, I don’t think any less of you. You get to ours when you can.
If you want to drop a thread because you’ve lost inspiration with it; same as above. I don’t hate you. I’d rather you told me than fretted and thought omfg she’s gonna hate me when actually, the opposite is true.
Muses can be fickle, fickle things and I shouldn’t have to say this but when dipshits come out with stuff like ‘take your time doesn’t mean you can reply to something else’ — actually, it does with me.
Anybody who plots with me, RPs with me, even talks to me; I love. Dearly. And when they reply I squeal like a mad thing because omg the flawless (seriously).
RPing is meant to be fun, lovelies. Don’t suck the fun out of it by being passive aggressive and a bit of a twat by saying shit things like that.
Take your time means take your time — it’s YOUR character, your blog. You reply to who you want when you want or when you’re ready/have the muse, okay? <3
I highly recommend you follow the person I reblogged this from.
tare:
me:
i’m not crying you’re crying
resurrection brought many TRIALS and tribulations, for within what felt like seconds lives fell apart. willow moved out, dawn was a kleptomaniac, xander was caught up with anya and giles had returned back to england. all that REMAINED steady in her life was tara, a shinning beacon among this seemingly endless chasm. something lingered between them, a silent understanding of struggles. in a short period of time, a connection had BLOSSOMED, one that did not compare to anything she knew.
mahogany door fell shut with a gentle thud, corduroy jacket discarded on the stair railings. ❛ i’m home. ❜ soles dragged on the floor as she CARRIED herself to the living room, falling into the love seat besides the other. exhaustion and discontent rang in her features when their eyes met, a half smile offered. ❛ how was dawn-sitting ? ❜
@taramcly
Tv was on, some loud action movie giving Tara all the white background noise she needed. Silence has not been kind to her for a while now— not after the things she had gone through for the past few long months. It was better — it felt safer and real — when she could listen to something to keep her grounded, to anything, really. Her eyes were glued to the screen, but her mind was not there. She had so much to think about... And sometimes she got worried about forgetting something important... That feeling of missing a significant memory, but yet, you’re not quite able to put a finger on it.
Buffy’s voice got her back to the now, her head just slowly turning to the side, resting against the back of the couch, to look at the other. “Hey— welcome home”, a soft voice, gentle words to accompany her eye smile. Tara seemed sleepy, but at that time she was just... slow. Maybe thinking too much has that kind of effect on her. Pale digits playing with the hem of her shirt, just to keep her there in the present while her attention was now on the blonde. The witch was truly glad Buffy was with her now, that she wasn’t alone anymore with her mind, with that silent house.
“We had fun”, her teeth appeared for a second and Tara changed her position on the couch, not so lazy anymore. Straight, unbending. “She just went to bed an hour ago, maybe—? What time is it?”
cute flirty (still kinda bloody) smile girl
Faith blinked at her before she realized what she was talking about and scoffed, running a thumb across her own bloody lip and smearing it just a little.
“This? This is nothing. But you shouldn’t be out this late, it’s not safe.” She replied, remembering everything Diana had said about what a Slayer was supposed to be. She hadn’t been able to protect her, and that hurt every day, but that didn’t mean she could just quit. Plus, who didn’t want to be the dashing hero to a pretty girl? She flashed her a crooked smile, only to be reminded of her lip and wince as she stretched the split skin. There were bruises blossoming all over Faith, which was honestly total bullshit. She was a Slayer, no human thug should be able to bruise her. But here she was, feeling them settle into her pale skin. Still, she ignored it and put up the front of bravado and carelessness that had gotten her this far from Boston, tossing her hair out of her face with a flip of her head.
“C’mon, I’ll walk you back to your place.” This time she ignored the sting and let herself grin, adrenaline still pumping through her from the thrill of taking those two guys down.
A lie. And then the truth. Believe her, she would love to be home earlier, safe and sound, if she didn’t need extra money. But she doesn’t have a place to call home and yeah, extra money is not that extra after all. Thereby, needed.
That smile got her face to redden quiet fast this time and Tara couldn’t hold her eyes on the other’s girl level. So her gaze fell upon her feet, cheeks tingling with warmth. But even though she wasn’t actually looking back at her, she felt it, a hint of pain again. And then she saw it, on the corner of her eyes, the brunette’s hands, her bruised knuckles. That worrying thing— That big empathic heart she had, it bumped faster and deeper, warming up her soul almost. But Tara, well, she didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t sound wrong or weird. Or, worse, invasive, somehow.
“W-Wait”, she says, trying to ignore that smile again. A discreet deep breath, hands now holding on her backpack handles, wanting to keep her arms and fingers occupied with something. She always feels weird about what to do with them. “You’re hurt, we should t-take you to the hospital, um...”, she's waiting for a name now. Give her that, at least. Because what she really wants to know is: what that hell she is— That strength, that mystical vibe she’s getting. What is it? But, yeah, a name is enough for now. Maybe.
secondstringslayer
Once the guy had collapsed and gone limp under her grip Faith climbed off of him before taking a few steps in the direction the girl had gone.
“Hey, it’s safe now.” She called out, though she kept up a slightly defensive stance in case this turned out to be something more dangerous than just a regular blonde teenager. She could feel the black eye forming and absently licked at the blood still slowly dripping from her lower lip. Her hair was a mess, wild curls tossed from the fight, and her knuckles were already black and blue as she stood there in just a tank-top and her one good pair of leather pants. She hadn’t even found a place to stay in the area yet, her things stashed in a locker at the bus stop for safekeeping until she could at least get enough cash for another ticket a little further west.
There was a squirm, a low whine of surprise as she jumped away at the other’s voice. Jesus, what a jumpy scared little girl. “S-Sorry”, she mumbled, arms hugging herself once more, eyes on her feet for a second. Her cheeks were burning, a warm shade of pink coloring her skin. First because she was embarrassed and second because there was a girl talking to her and she hated how she gets just because of that tiny simple fact. Goddess, Maclay, take it easy.
Tired blue eyes traveled up, following the girl’s silhouette til she can discern her features. Tara’s light eyebrows move, almost touching in worry from what she could get just by looking at the girl for a couple of seconds. It wasn’t like the street was lit decently and she could easily see anything properly, but still—. Letting herself sense the other, she felt a bit of pain at the back of her neck, but that’s not much— And still, her injuries, it seems pretty serious looking from where she’s standing. Yet, she got closer, a couple of steps. “You’re— Y-You’re bleeding”.
She’s going to worry. There’s no turning back from that at all. Specially after you saved her life. (Oh, that's how she sees it). So, Tara’s taking her time to study the other for more injuries and also, to sense anything she could from her. And, well, that girl is certainly mystical enough. For sure.
growling strong girl
The night was Faith’s element long before she was called. Night time was when her mother was asleep, when whatever guy she’d brought home had passed out, when Faith could safely enter the kitchen for some food and maybe get some sleep of her own as long as her bedroom door was blockaded. And after the Call? Well it just got better. She was strong now, no one was ever gonna push her around or make her feel helpless again. But these two thugs were definitely trying their hardest to do so, crowding her back against the building despite the bruising blows she’d already landed. She could taste blood from a split lip, and knew she’d have a black eye before long, but she never felt more alive than when she was in a fight. She saw the knife out of the corner of her eye but knew she wouldn’t be fast enough to dodge or block the strike that was coming, not while fending off a rain of punches from his buddy. So she braced herself for pain, only for it not to come.
But she didn’t have time to wonder about that, instead turning the tables and slamming her foot into the chest of the guy crowding her. Once he’d been knocked back a few steps she launched herself off the wall behind her to hit him with a haymaker right in the temple. He dropped like a box of rocks and she turned on the other guy, the one now advancing on a blonde girl not too far away. Growling under her breath Faith took a running start and leaped onto his back, wrapping one arm right around his throat with an almost feral grin.
“Not today buddy, so why don’t you be good and take a little nap now huh?” She taunted, cutting off his air while he grabbed uselessly at her arm.
Fuck. Fuck. OH FUCKFUCKFUCK. There was no time to think, she was not that quick with responses. So, yes, she run. Not ashamed at all. Specially when you don’t always have the chance to escape, so, when you can, do it. For your life, she means. So, Tara’s been doing it for a while now. Not an expert but, yeah, why not keep on running.
She heard a female voice right before she turned the corner, glancing over the shoulder and having the chance to see the brunette over the guy who was running towards her seconds before. Wow, again. A pause to breathe, back pressed against the building behind her. Maybe she can hide there for a moment. There’s an instant to rethink and relive the past ten seconds. A really sharp accurate punch that was—. Tara blinked a few times, chest falling and rising quiet heavily. The guy was on the ground.
That’s pretty strong.
The young witch closed her eyes, hands over her face now, palms rubbing tired eyes. She just wanted to get to her momentary bed, after a day of washing dirty dishes, and eat a lot of junk food she managed to buy not a couple of hours ago.
“Goddess—”, mumbled under her breath, just waiting for this to end.
She has never been afraid of the night. Of the dark. But she’s not a fan as well. It was just— Well, the daylight always made her feel better. It felt safer when you could actually see things clearly, when you didn’t have to squint your eyes and wonder if that’s really what you’re seeing.
Her mustard backpack hanging over her shoulders, dark honey hair in front of her face due to the soft night breeze, covering part of her features, but, yeah, she didn’t care. She never cared about it, that’s why her hair has always been long. It actually made her feel safer— Covering. Hiding. —And promptly, she stopped on her tracks. Big light eyes widened as soon as she turned the corner, the poorly lit street, —where she was standing now in the middle of the road in her way to the hostel— being then the scenery of a fight. And now, Tara herself, being a witness of the spectacle.
Arms around her body, the hold got tighter, maybe in a way to protect herself, to maybe retreat to inside her own. The sound of a fist against cartilage could easily be heard from where she was standing, astonished. Should she run away? Was it the right thing? Should she call the co— It’s a girl! Surprised. Kinda amazed. Teeth sinking into a bottom lip as she watched the scene unroll in front of her. It’s quick, not even five seconds have passed. She should do something, but she can’t move now. Her heart is racing fast and Tara can hear it bumping loudly against her ears.
There’s two guys. Big ones. And a girl. Wow. Tara is feeling super scared, but, wow, how she wanted to be able to do this. Move like this. Maybe she would be braver then. But, the girl, she’s being cornered— Oh, no, no!
A quick glance and something shone, sparkled, making the witch blink. A knife. Cowards! Half a second later and, “dissolvo!”, she charmed, kinda shakily, but then, it’s gone. Male grip releasing the sharp weapon to the ground and the object is thrown away from the individual. Her own hands closed in tight fists beside her body, breath lightly heavy by now. That was some fast thinking, Maclay. She got one’s attention now. Maybe not a wise choice, but... She got some more time with this? Maybe?
to @secondstringslayer
Eerie Atmospheric Settings: Plot Starters
Instead of a specific plot to work around, here’s a list of settings that all feature a melancholy, moody, or creepy atmosphere. Simply send me a symbol for a setting you want to RP in, and I’ll either make a starter or approach you to plot!
🌕A full moon night with wind whistling through the trees
🌊The seashore late at night, with lightning over the water in the distance
🏤Stepping into a house that gives off all the wrong vibes
🍁A cold day in late autumn, which is silent and deeply lonely
🎹Nighttime in an ancient house/manor, with the tinkling of piano keys from the next room
💧 Rain in the early morning, so dark that there’s hardly a sunrise
⛪A church right after a funeral, a small handful of people dressed in black hanging their heads in silence
🌳A maze-like forest at dusk, with a sense of anxiety as the sun disappears
⛵On the beach before dawn as remnants of a ship wreck wash onto shore
🍂A chilly, overcast autumn afternoon
🌃Midnight in a busy city, sirens blaring a few blocks away
🎃After dark on Halloween night after trick-or-treating ends
🚘Sitting with a popped tired on the side of a long stretch of road, waiting
⚡Distant thunder from a massive storm headed straight this way
🥀An overgrown garden of nothing but poisonous (or dead, dry) plants
🌾An eerie plot of farmland with seemingly no one around for miles
🐊Murky swampland with posted warnings to keep people away
🔥 A roaring bonfire in the distance on a pitch black night, with dark silhouettes crowded or dancing around it
🚧Standing near old, abandoned train tracks when the bell starts to ring
🐟Taking a swim on an uninhabited plot of beach, noticing ripples in the water
🌿An old-fashioned plantation with secretive locals and a bitter history
💀A cemetery full of dead, dry flowers as if all of the plots have been forgotten, some of the stones cracked or sinking into the dirt
🚇A dingy old subway station, walls chipped to pieces, while waiting for a ride home
🌈The sad silence after a violent storm, debris and wreckage everywhere
👗An attic full of musty clothes and antiques belonging to someone long-dead
❄ A snowstorm locking everyone in their homes, with electricity flickering
🍄An enchanting plot of forest or stream, tiny whispers cutting the silence
🌑Inside of a re-occurring nightmare had time and time again
☔Taking a long walk with an umbrella, struggling with a low, low mood
☕At a quiet cafe, but unfamiliar folk are whispering and staring
🌵A winding road through the desert with only one dingy hotel, its ‘vacancy’ light flickering red
💤Dreaming of scraping nails gainst the window glass, and waking to still hear it
🐕A quiet night, the only sound being the call of coyotes/wolves in the woods
Wounded Sentence Starters
“It’s just a scratch. You worry too much.”
“Ah… ! Don’t press there!”
“Just put a bandage on it and I’ll be fine.”
“That looks bad. Really bad.”
“Try not to look at it.”
“That hurts!”
“You’re going to need bedrest for at least a few days.”
“I’m going to be stuck in bed for how long?”
“That’s nothing, you big baby.”
“Here, let me help. I’m good at this sort of thing.”
“I can’t feel it. That’s bad, right?”
“Can you move?”
“How can something so small hurt so much?”
“It looks a lot worse than it is.”
“You’re a terrible patient.”
“Will you hold still? I can’t do anything if you keep squirming.”
“Wow, I’ve never seen skin turn that color before.”
“It’s just another a war trophy.”
“Shut up and let me help you.”
“I don’t care how tough you are. You can’t ignore that.”
“I’m sorry. This sort of thing makes me nauseous.”