RP and in-character askblog for Sander Cohen. Yeah, yeah, I know, another one. PERSONAL RP GUIDELINES: Read before you play! - From The Bioshock Wiki: "Sander Cohen is a poet, composer, sculptor and playwright ruling over Fort Frolic. Following the descent of Rapture into chaos, he went mad and became sadistically impassive to the deaths and suffering of others. The Splicers within his dominion are subject entirely to his whims, whether in life or death. All around Fort Frolic can be seen examples of his 'art'; plaster models of Splicers who are in fact horrifically murdered Splicers coated in plaster."
What is the name of your lip stick? As a fellow lover of rubifying I should like to procure products of a fine quality. Is it the quality of the stick or the quality of the liner you look for first?
Silas obediently followed Sander’s order, and opted to keep his irate grousing to himself. With a sigh, he meandered over to the phonograph and lifted the needle off the record. The player crackled momentarily, then shut off as the disciple closed the lid. The silence that suddenly filled the room actually came as a relief.
“Now what?”
The southerner stood impatiently with two hands on his either of his slender hips, his thin mouth contorted into something like a pout. He was a fine enough dancer- he knew that. Cohen was just being overparticular. As always.
He returned to the center of the room and took Silas' hand. In the female stance, like last time - and the time before. Sure, Silas was taller. But after this many repetitions, it became hard not to wonder whether he was saying something.
"All right, now," he directed, planting his hand on Silas' shoulder. "Closed position."
“Mr. Cohen, we’ve been over this a dozen times already. Can’t we take a break er somethin’?!”
Silas whined as his nerves wore exceptionally thin. For over an hour, his nitpicking mentor had him spinning circles around the living room of his luxury suite, practicing the same steps over and over and over to the record he had on repeat. The southerner grimaced with each “stop” and “again” Sander uttered, and even went so far as to pull the needle off the vinyl once in defiance. The artist hadn’t been pleased, and so Cobb begrudgingly picked up where they’d left off with a 1, 2, 3…1,2, 3…
But, he was beginning to reach the end of his already short rope.
“I did it jus’ fine the first ten times,” he went on exasperatedly, “why do we gotta keep goin’?”
“I’m Never Bored Being Me”
A photo editing project
For those of you who don’t RP, this probably won’t mean a whole lot to you. But, to those who do, you’ll definitely understand. Over the passed year, I’ve made some of the most incredible friends through the tumblr RP community. Because I love them so much, and because I had a sudden bout of inspiration, I decided to take on this little project to display & promote not only their amazing characters, but also their beautiful, wonderful, real life personas. Whether a mod has few or many characters, it doesn’t matter. Each one is unique, and more importantly, an extension of the person who plays them.
The only reason I’mup there is because I needed to practice using the editing program ;A; I also take pride in my own characters, and am beyond happy to play them alongside these fantastic other mods.
Listed below are the character & personal blogs of the people included in the project. Give them a visit if you feel so inclined. I cannot stress how marvelous these people & blogs are, and I do hope you enjoy.
*Note: Not all characters have respective blogs. Some are RPed on other websites, and some only privately via chat applications. All characters are represented by each mod’s chosen faceclaims. Any at all artwork sampled is not mine, and belongs to either the mods themselves or a seperate third party.
Oh, spare me. You don’t think there are women? Confirmed bachelors? Husbands living in denial? If you say nothing else about me, say I’m an equal-opportunity ex-ploiter.
Besides. Daniel Davies has the ass of three ingenues. You can’t hide that light under a trouser, it’s not — art.
Oh, I’ve got plenty to say about you ol’ man, don’t ever worry ‘bout that. But that word- art. Between you and me, It’s gettin’ kinda stale. Y’know, ‘specially when ya don’t really know the meanin’.
I like “grift” a lot better. Rolls off the tongue, don’t ya think?
Oh, spare me. You don't think there are women? Confirmed bachelors? Husbands living in denial? If you say nothing else about me, say I'm an equal-opportunity ex-ploiter.
Besides. Daniel Davies has the ass of three ingenues. You can't hide that light under a trouser, it's not -- art.
Kyle’s hands tightened into fists as his side. Swallowing once more, he looked down at his mentor.
“…About a month, sir,” he answered curtly. During his first years in Rapture, Kyle had been something of a bootlicker when it came to anything Cohen wanted. Indeed he was a true “disciple”. But now, things were different. Cohen was changing…Rapture was changing. One by one, people were turning into monsters. And to his horror…Kyle had been slowly watching the man he once admired follow the trend.
Was it worth taking instruction from a monster?
He’d played the piece well. Or so he thought. Only one or two minor errors that were not easily detected by those without a musician’s ear.
“Sir, if I may, I…don’t believe the mistakes were that noticeable.”
Sander chewed his pinky fingernail and stared off into space.
This was new. A disciple talking back to him. Oooooh, and he thought he'd be sneaky, too, trying to be polite about it, and...
Deep breath.
"Well." A controlled blink. "Reasonable... minds... can differ." He rose. "The audience didn't notice." His back turned, hand gesturing idly with the bottle still in it. "You got lucky."
"But you might not next time!" He whirled back around, wagging his finger like a foil. "They'll eat you alive, Fitzpatrick, just... wait... until they notice!"