(( Well, I have completely and utterly lost the Strife muse as well as any yogmuse I have. I haven't watched any Yog videos in a long time, and my interests have generally turned inwards towards more personal pursuits like the impossible webcomic dream. I’m still happy to jam about yogscast worldbuilding and possibly chatrping some yogs, but I am definitely not tumblr rping the yogs anymore.
I thought I could bring back the Strife muse by doing this weird and crazy event involving breaking reality to try and fix the Kerosene problem, but evidently that didn't stick. I felt that I had an obligation to return to Strife, but in honestly he wasn't very fun to play any more.
But, I've had fun times in the community and I still love roleplaying, so I'm going to focus more on OCs. I kinda forgot my old OC blog password so I had to make a new one, which is still under development.
So, I'm completely closing up shop here! I'm almost always on Skype if you want to talk to me or something like that, or at my mainblog, @cadaeix
This applies to this blog, @thekeytarist, @thecruciblebroke, @myoutrosong, @fightforthesummer and other yog blogs I have. Thank you and goodnight~))
For too long now, there were secrets in my mind
For too long now, there were things I should have said
In the darkness, I was stumbling for the door
To find a reason, to find the time, the place, the hour
Waiting for the winter sun and the cold light of day
The misty ghost of childhood fears
The pressure is building and I can’t stay away.
I throw myself into the sea
Release the wave,
Let it wash over me
To face the fear I once believed
The tears of the dragon for you and for me
Where I was, I had wings that couldn’t fly
Where I was, I had tears I couldn’t cry
My emotions, frozen in an icy lake
I couldn’t feel them until the ice began to break
I have no power over this, you know I’m afraid
The walls I built are crumbling, the water is moving,
I’m slipping away.
I throw myself into the sea
Release the wave,
Let it wash over me
To face the fear I once believed
The tears of the dragon for you and for me
Slowly I awake, slowly I rise
The walls I built are crumbling,
The water is moving,
I’m slipping away.
I throw myself into the sea
Release the wave,
Let it wash over me
To face the fear I once believed
The tears of the dragon for you and for me
I throw myself into the sea
Release the wave,
Let it wash over me
To face the fear I once believed
The tears of the dragon for you and for me
[ a bottle washes up on the seashore one day. there’s paper inside. ]
I thought I could help people.
I don’t know why I thought that, at first. It was a way to come up on top- if someone had a problem, I could get them to pay me and then I could fix it. They would get what they wanted and I would profit. I’d become known and I’d be loved, and I would be rich.
That was all that mattered, right? I even thought that maybe I could make some of the problems sometimes, because hey, that would still lead to that optimal outcome! I’d be screwing them over in the short term, but later they’d realise just how helpful I was and then I could fix the real issues!
I was wrong.
I was so wrong.
In me, I held something horrific. Within me, I held something that was the precise opposite of what I was- and the sad thing is, I don’t think that’s how it started out. I think it, too, wanted to solve problems.
It was suffering and trying to help itself, but all it knew to do was to lash out. Fighting and fucking other people over with sharp green shards and acid hate.
I needed it out, but it was me.
...
And I met someone who was my kind of crazy, someone who bled for power and for himself and for me, someone who would tear out his own heart-
for me.
I hate him so much for doing that. I hate him for being so friggin’ annoying, for being there for me, for being fun and lively and reminding me of wicked things and evil things. The worst part is the cliché of it all- hate and love, they say it’s the same thing in the end, don’t they?
So I took my dreams and I took my shards, and I read a bit and I learned that Minecraftia was made up of lines and edges.
There are four lines in a square. There are twelve lines in a cube. These Lines, they cut through our world, separating mass and matter into discrete blocks. And the Endermen, they know the secrets to these Lines, they know how to find the seams and break the world apart.
There are four angles in a square. Right angles. The uniformity of the world, it lead to a secret-
The world is not real.
Okay, your worlds may be real to you, and I accept that. I get that! I’d like to live in your real worlds- but to me, the world was some kind of dream, borne aloft by the dreams of-
Stories. People out there, writing our stories.
So to change myself, I had to change the dream.
With the ginger asshole’s help, I broke past the Lines into another dream. A dream of a long, foggy beach, with seagulls drifting overhead. The air was full of salt, but there weren’t any Lines here and I knew I made the biggest friggin’ mistake of my entire life.
I tried to get messages back, but all I could say were dots and dashes.
Some flowers washed up, so I held them in my hands and I thought that Parv deserved better than me.
…
The flowers turned into me. And he winked at me, and walked away, whistling a tune.
Now… I think I can get this message through. I found a bottle the other day. Don’t think there are days here, but I’ve been counting the hours.
It’s been a while.
Maybe if you throw a bottle into the sea, I’ll get your message back. Don’t hurry on my account, though.
(( right, I was just talking to equalityforflowers and we both agreed that tumblr rping is becoming ever more bullshit by the day with all these silly updates and even sillier silliness.
So, what if we made a forum dedicated to yogrping? I’m willing to moderate, if other people are interested!
OCs would be welcome too, although we’d have a section for solely canonical characters and a section for OC and yog characters for people interested in such
Things that are pretty cool about forums:
Masterlists would be easier to collate
Proboards allows you to make multiple accounts on a forum under a global account and to be able to switch between accounts without logging out
Might be easier for people to jump in and out of threads, though you’re free to just make a one-on-one thread and restrict it to someone if you wish
Moderation! If this happens, we’ll need people to volunteer to mod!
no tumblr updates to break your replies! No need to quote or cut!
EDIT:there could be a NSFW section for solely NSFW threads, but if a SFW thread turns NSFW that’s fin - someone edits the name and a mod moves the thread?
signatures there will be a size limit because pls
(( While this inanity is going on over here, I’ve started a Martyn blog for slightly more normal fare. He’s a rebel freedom fighter from the cyberpunk future! ))
He leans in, glittering red eyes gazing into those green ones. Parv was reminded of plant stems, or fresh growths. “Yeah, I do. My mother had a garden once. It was beautiful. Kinda like you.” He was vaguely frightened, somewhere in the back of his head, but he was also hungry- he was always hungry.
“Say, plant-boy, you have a soul?”
“So you do think I’m beautiful!” NotStrife barked out a cracked laugh. “But I d✿n’t have much of a soul. Just fl✿wers. What was it- a song, by this guitarist I once knew- something about bein’ paralysed?”
He smells a bit like fake perfume.
“D✿ you want my soul? Don’t think I can give it to ya- it’s not mine to give.”
"U-Uhm. Heeeey, Strife, long time no see!" Parv looks at him while fidgeting, moving his head around a tiny bit as if studying him from different angles and looking like he's not sure he's believing what he's seeing.
A jolt of some sort of recognition occurs before strife settles down into some sort of stability. His eyes are green. So very green.
He smiles, but it doesn’t look natural. “Hey there,” he says in a friendly tone of voice.
“I mean you don’t seem like yourself, Strife. You just– you don’t. I don’t know what you thought you’d accomplish but this doesn’t feel like it!” He nervously tries to pull his arm away while at the same time wanting to grab Strife and shake some sense into him.
“If you would do ‘anything’ for me, why didn’t you tell me about what this all is before you did it?!”
The fingers of Parv’s free hand twitch and the heart inside him is screeching. He clenches his fist while staring into Strife’s eyes then loosens his fingers, pressing them together into a point. He draws that arm back but keeps it low, waiting, cautious, unsure of whether he should really try what he’s thinking. It might not prove anything but the heart keeps straining and it’s starting to hurt.
FlowerStrife lets go. There’s a shift in his demeanour, rather like a GPS recalculating a wrong route. He looks a bit more puzzled, as if confused.
“I d✿n’t think I wanted to hurt you,” he says. “I don’t know what my intenti✿ns were, though. Maybe I did, accidentally.”
He shrugs, continuing to stare straight at Parv with those leaf-green eyes that might as well be actual leaves. “Y✿u’d think that I’d have left myself better instructions! Honestly, I’m a bit of an id✿t, for someone who was just b✿rn yesterday. ”
And the flowers draw back in that way of moving-yet-not-moving that they had.
-[ martyn jumps at the sudden touch, eyeing strife’s hand with an unreadable expression. perhaps his own skin is patchy - some soft as petals, some rough like bark, and some boring and normal. but that is not what strife’s skin ever felt like. ]-
I dunno, you seemed pretty full of… stuff. I don’t know where I was going with that at all.
It does suck. And then it’s winter, which is worse.
Stuff?
There’s n✿thin’ in me that isn’t meant to be there! I’m very deliberately put together, y✿u know.
-[ there is a look of slight panic before a recomposing. you may notice that this strife’s eyes don’t glow, and in fact seem just as vibrant and green as a flower stalk.]-
Can’t y✿u be any more specific? Well enough implies a huge number ✿f things, n✿t the least of which c✿uld range from anything from death to g✿od things!
Hauntingly beautiful, enigmatic, smooth as hell – are all words that are likely to enter thought when you hit play on SAFIA’s new single Paranoia, Ghosts & Other Sounds.
To see colorful flowers in your dream signify kindness, compassion, gentleness, pleasure, beauty, and gain. It is also symbolic of perfection and spirituality. Your dream may be an expression of love, joy and happiness. Alternatively, flowers in dream, especially if they are blooming represent your hidden potential and latent talents. Flowers can also denote a particular time or season. If the flowers are white, then it symbolizes sadness. Consider the color of the flower and the type of flower for additional analysis.
To see withered or dead flowers in your dream denotes disappointments and gloomy situations. It may signal an end to a love relationship. Or it could indicate that you may not be utilizing your full potential and talents and letting it go to waste.
To dream that you receive a bouquet of flowers represents respect, approval, admiration, and rewards.
To see flowers blooming in barren soil signify that energy and cheerful nature will enable you to overcome your grievances. If you are picking flowers, then the dream symbolizes blooming love or a new developing relationship.
“Yeah, I don’t feel like getting eaten- I mean, I’m probably no too tasty. I’m already dead anyway, so.” He offers a hand, palm-up. He flashes a blinding grin full of fangs.
“But dinner sounds good, as long as I’m not on the menu.”
"Y✿u don't have t✿ be," says the Strife, himself with an expression rather like a Mona Lisa made of daisies. "But you do kn✿w what flowers feed on, right?"
With his dull green eyes, he examines Parv closely. And he takes the hand, and his skin feels waxy.
