Avatar of LetsFly

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Recent Statuses

2 mos ago
Current Been a busy couple of days, will be getting RP replies out tomorrow!
2 mos ago
Sorry for my brief absence! I bought Helldivers II and promptly forgot about real life for several days while spreading (managed) democracy 🪲🤖🗽
3 likes
2 mos ago
Re-inventing myself, AKA dyeing my hair and revamping my wardrobe in order to feel alive again
4 likes
2 mos ago
Finally home! Gonna get a nap in and then work on replies :)
1 like
3 mos ago
RP partners! I will be travelling from Thursday through Sunday of this week to visit family, and may not reply any of those days, depending. Sorry in advance!
2 likes

Bio


give me all the vampire romance RPs


Hello, friends!

I'm Lettie! I'm a 27-year-old lady living in Wisconsin with my wonderful husband, two cats, and a flock of chickens.

I'm a bit of an RPG veteran; I joined somewhere between 2010-2011 (before the Guildfall of 2015), and spent many of my teenage years on this site, frequenting the Spam forum (see: racking up infraction points) or relentlessly refreshing the page, waiting on RP replies.

Not much has changed.

I've been quite on-and-off in my activity here over the years (err, decades. God, I'm old.), but with the way life is going currently, I'm hoping to become a semi-permanent fixture around here once more!

While I enjoy the occasional group RP, I am a big sucker for a good romance, which doesn't always translate well there. (I am also victim to the Group RP Curse: they get abandoned pretty quickly in my experience.) Therefore, you'll most likely find me in a series of 1x1s.

I like to think of myself as a high-casual/low-advanced writer. I think I could certainly exceed that if necessary, but the RPs I tend to participate in often only require 3-7 paragraphs to get the point across, however detailed, rather than a short novel. Not that I'm opposed, but I'm no Dickens -- I'm not going to make the description of the tip of a pen last 6 pages if I don't feel like it adds anything to the story.

I am all about ~the vibes~. I will make playlists, AI fan art, Pinterest moodboards, etc. involving our characters. I'll find gifs and images that resemble the settings, to add visual appeal. I like to go back and format my posts so they're more aesthetically pleasing. I am a gushy person and fall in love with the stories rather easily. If you'd rather I didn't share these things with you, let me know!

When I'm not spamming the refresh button here, I can usually be found with my nose in a book, or playing video games (think more Animal Crossing and TLOZ, less COD or Overwatch and the like). I'm a software engineer, though I'm on a bit of a sabbatical at the moment, so I guess I'm more of a stay-at-home wife.

My 1x1 Interest Check can be found here.

I like to think I'm a pretty friendly and open person, so if you'd like to bring an RP idea to my attention, or just chat and tell me about your day (or send me pictures of your cats), my DMs are always open! I'm also happy to add folks on other socials and make friends!

Most Recent Posts

Lyra followed Finrod's lead with careful precision, her hands and feet mirroring his movements as they navigated the cliffside. With each step, she focused intently, her heart pounding in her chest as she kept a wary eye on the ground below. The fear of falling gnawed at her, but she pushed it aside, determined to prove her capabilities.

As they neared the bottom, her foot slipped on a loose stone, and a startled cry escaped her lips. Bracing for impact, she closed her eyes tightly, only to feel herself landing gently on solid ground. She opened her eyes in surprise, realizing she had only stumbled a foot off the ground. She let out an embarrassed chuckle, shaking her head at her own overreaction.

The two set off toward Whiterun, and Lyra's mind wandered to the Inn that Finrod had mentioned in his vision. It seemed like an unexpected addition to their quest, nestled amount the mysterious ruins and temples that had been featured in such drama and shadows. Curiosity tugged at her thoughts, and she couldn't help but voice it aloud.

"That Inn you saw in your vision earlier," Lyra began, casting a sidelong glance at Finrod. "What do you think it has to do with our journey? It seems like an odd piece of the puzzle amidst everything else."
Finrod explained the vision he had had, detailing the locations and… *a magical embrace*. Lyra stared, incredulous, and she was almost certain a blush crept onto her face, despite her dark complexion. “Well,” she sputtered, “I guess we know where we’re off to. That Inn must be our first stop, after Whiterun.”

He shifted gears, focusing on their supply run, and let go of her hand. Lyra cast her eyes downward, a bit embarrassed. “Supplies. Right.”

She stood, avoiding Finrod’s gaze as she gathered up the rest of her things, spreading the coals of the fire to let it dissipate safely. Without waiting, she made her way back toward the cliff they’d scaled to get up to this clearing in the first place. She would miss this place, she thought, in all its serene tranquility. The climb up had been surprisingly easy — but climbing back down seemed surprisingly daunting. “I don’t suppose you could magically teleport us back down?” she called out to Finrod, tilting her head as she tried to calculate the best route, how she would keep her footing without slipping down to her death.
Calvin was almost certain Ana was going to take him up on the dessert offer, and he bit his lip to hide a smile. He was far too pleased with the prospect of getting another few moments with her.

But just before they could discuss the menu, her phone rang, and she gave Cal a shrug before answering it. Cal busies himself with studying the dessert menu himself, but he’s almost certain he hears a male voice coming through her phone. Of course. It would have been foolish for Cal to assume he was the only prospect she had — if she even saw him that way to begin with. The way she looked, plus the sharp wit and intelligence, she probably had suitors lining up. He was going to have to step up his game if he wanted to make any impression. He hoped the phone number he’d slipped her would present him with that opportunity; otherwise, he’d have to find some other way of tracking her down.

Ana looked concerned, and Cal got the creeping feeling that their little lunch date was about to come to an untimely end. Before he knew it, she was standing, looking apologetic. She explained her reasoning and Cal beamed at her, standing as well. “I totally understand, do what you need to do. I’ll cash in that rain check sooner or later.”

He’d started to reach out his hand for a polite good-bye handshake, but was met instead with a kiss to the cheek. The stupid grin on his face couldn’t be hidden if he’d tried. “Until next time,” he said softly, watching her as she left. She stopped to pay for her food and Cal nearly called out in protest — it’s not really treating her to lunch if she’s paying for her portion, is it? — but decided against it. And then she was gone, Mishka trotting by her side, the rain pelting them both. Cal wished he’d thought to have an umbrella on hand he could have given her — but couldn’t help but notice, through the window, that it wouldn’t be a problem, considering she was getting awfully cozy in a hug with some redhead guy.

Cal’s jaw hurt, and he realized he’d been clenching his teeth. Stella whined at his feet, perhaps despondent that her new friend had left so soon. He paid for his meal, boxing the rest of the salmon to give to the dog later. “Well, girl, it looks like it’s just you and me again,” he said, scratching her ears affectionately. “Hope you don’t mind a little rain.”

The two stepped out and made their way back to his car, still parked at the Humane Society. Stella seemed perfectly content to take her time, splashing in puddles as they went. When they’d gotten out of the rain and into the BMW, she shook herself off, sending bits of water flying everywhere. Cal chuckled, using his hands to shake the water out of his own hair. This leather interior was going to be a problem if Stella was going to be coming with him everywhere. He decided he’d have to switch up his daily driver to something with a more forgiving material.

He pulled out of the parking lot, driving carefully as they made their way through town, unwilling to take any chances with the apparent loss of common sense among other LA drivers the second there was any precipitation. Cal had decided he would return home that night — one of many, but he considered his house just outside the city to be his primary base. The high-rises were disappearing in the rear-view mirror when he finally stopped at a pet store. The two of them walked the aisles, and Cal added every toy that Stella sniffed to their basket, as well as some large bags of food, bowls, treats, special shampoo for pit bulls’ sensitive skin, and a pretty new collar. He had a tag engraved with her name, as well as his phone number on the back, and then they were on their way once more.

When they reached the house, Stella set off to smell all her new surroundings, tail waving happily. “Welcome home,” Cal said, sighing as the words fell into the empty room. He set about arranging all their new things, filling her food and water bowls, arranging her toys into a basket in the living room, and finally slumping onto the couch.

Before long, Stella returned, hopping up onto the couch to curl up beside him, her head in his lap. “Yeah, I know. Just you and me. It’s a pretty big house for just the two of us,” he said, trailing a finger up the soft fur above her nose. “What’d you think of Ana?” he asked, tilting his head as if honestly waiting for Stella to answer. “You and Mishka seemed to get along well enough. It would be terrible if you never got to see your first friend again. We’ll have to make sure that’s not the case. You know, for your sake.”

Stella licked Cal’s hand, and just as he was about to continue, his phone began to buzz in his pocket. He fished it out, and the screen, again, showed an unknown number. Cal’s brow furrowed. The previous time the number had called, no voicemail was left. It was probably just some sales call. He swiped to answer.”

“Look, whatever you’re selling, I don’t want any of it.”

“Boss, hang up!” Cal heard, though distantly.

Marcus.

He stood immediately, alarmed. “Marcus? What’s going on?”

There were rustling noises on the other end, as if the phone were exchanging hands. Then, a new voice: “Hello, Calvin. Long time. Your friend here is a tough cookie to crack. It’s a good thing he had your number in his phone — I may have had to resort to more creative ways to get him talking.”

The voice was vaguely familiar, but Cal couldn’t place it. “Who is this?” His voice was hard, and he looked around the room, as if expecting to see the guy outside one of the windows. “If you lay a finger on Marcus, I swear to God, you’ll never see the light of day ag—”

“None of that,” the voice chided in an amused tone. “Unlike you, I’m not one to want blood on my hands. It’s all just so messy. I don’t like messes. Which brings me to why I’m calling you. Let’s call it cleaning up a mess, tying up a loose end.” The voice paused, as if expecting some sort of response. Cal waited. “You really have no idea who I am, do you? How typical. Always so self absorbed, Calvin Crawford. We’re at 2089 Sunset. You show up, your friend leaves unharmed. Scout’s Honor. You have one hour.”

The call disconnected. “FUCK!” Cal screamed, nearly chucking his phone across the room. Immediately, he made his way up the stairs and into the bedroom closet, where he entered a safe code to reveal an array of firearms and other weapons. He holstered a .40 S&W, checking the magazine to make sure it was loaded, and stowed another in his pocket just in case. A knife went into his other pocket.

He rushed back down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Stella was sitting up on the couch, whining, her ears low. “You have to stay here, sweetheart,” he said, cupping her face reassuringly. “I’ll be back. I promise. Hold down the fort.”

In his car once more, he ripped it out of the driveway, nearly taking out the mailbox in the process. As he sped toward the highway, his mind reeled, trying to place the voice that had been on the other end of the line. Whoever it was, they clearly knew how to get under Cal’s skin — they’d gone right for his best friend. That wasn’t going to fly with Cal. If Marcus had so much as a bruise, this guy was as good as dead.

The pistol felt heavy on his hip. Of all the things that went on in his odd and complicated life, this was certainly his least favorite.
"Got it. Karthspire it is!" Lyra agreed happily, finishing up the last of her rabbit. She'd packed light, so there wasn't much cleanup to do in order for them to be ready to hit the road. Finrod had mentioned making a stop to stock up for supplies, so she was sure they'd head back to Whiterun -- at least, she thought. She had no idea what direction Karthspire was in. "I think that's a good starting poi--"

Before she finished her sentence, Finrod's hand was on hers. Lyra gasped, alarmed, nearly jerking out of his grasp, but when she saw Finrod's face, she didn't dare let go. He was staring off into the distance, as if in a trance, and his lips were moving, though no words came out. She tried to focus on them, to decipher the shapes of the words he was making, but wasn't able to figure it out. At last, he seemed to return to himself, his eyes focusing suddenly, looking tired. He didn't let go of her hand.

Did... did you have one too?

Lyra's eyes widened. He'd had a vision? Of course, their hands -- she looked down at them, brow furrowing. They'd had the vision the evening before when they'd touched -- that must have been what sparked it. But why hadn't she had one this time, too? "I... No, I didn't." There was worry in her voice. What did that mean? "What did you see?" She asked, a bit desperate. Would the same thing happen to her? Would she bump into Finrod later, on the road, and suddenly go into a trance? She hoped, if so, that it wasn't in the middle of a dangerous situation. Gods only knew what kinds of things they would run into in their travels. She squeezed his hand reassuringly, unsure if he was even aware he'd been holding it.
gonna bump this once and then take the hint 😭
Please don't be discouraged if you haven't played Portal -- this RP has very little to actually do with Portal and requires no knowledge of it.

This is an old idea I tried to get going a few years ago and never got off the ground. I'd love to have someone else help GM or co-GM, as I'm not super familiar with group RPs and I'm not always the best at coming up with ~twists and turns~. Let me know if you're interested!

S t i l l A l i v e





"...The point is,
if we can store music on a compact disc, why can't we store a man's intelligence and personality on one?
I have the engineers figuring that out now. Brain mapping, artificial intelligence,
we should've been working on it thirty years ago."


ᴛɪᴍᴇʟɪɴᴇ

Âť 1943: Cave Johnson, founder of Aperture Fixtures, wins multiple awards for selling shower curtains.

Âť 1944: Cave Johnson purchases a salt mine in Michigan's Upper Peninsula, and uses is to construct Aperture Innovators.

Âť 1947: Aperture Science awarded for best up-and-coming research facility, and the transition from shower curtains to scientific research is officially made.

Âť 1949: Aperture is ranked #2 Best Science-Related Company in the industry (possibly just behind Black Mesa...)

Âť 1959: By this time, Aperture is known to have experimented with Time Travel, nanobot technology, microchip implantation, and injecting humans with the DNA of praying mantises. Most with little to no known reported results.

Âť 1981: Cave Johnson is terminally ill with moon rock poisoning, and decides to announce that mandatory employee testing will soon end. Begins to look into artificial intelligence, aiming to replace employees with robots. Spends the next year studying brain mapping and AI research.

Âť 1986: Cave Johnson dies, and Aperture is temporarily shut down for renovations.





ᴏᴠᴇʀᴠɪᴇᴡ



This roleplay assumes that GLaDOS was never created. Instead, Cave Johnson's idea of artificial intelligence was used to create new test subjects. He created both fully-automated robots as well as humans enhanced with robotic parts and attributes, using the fully automated robots to conduct tests while secretly releasing the hybrids, disguised as fellow scientists within the research facility. At first, the fully automated robots are used as a "control group" -- pitted against human test subjects in order to better record optimal testing speed and efficiency. However, eventually the need for human test subjects runs out as the AIs have very accurate simulated biology and react to tests almost 100% as humans would. Eventually, a new market is discovered: Virtual Reality. The control group is kept as-is while new AIs are developed to be controlled remotely through a VR headset. These new robots become somewhat of a body prosthetic extended from the human mind, all motions and actions operated by their human controller. The potential uses for these RC AIs are endless -- the public could use them to go and pick up groceries, to drive their kids to school, even to perform their jobs for them, all from the comfort of their own homes. However, as artificial intelligence advances further and further, people begin to notice "malfunctions" with their AIs, such as doing things on their own without being told to do so. Over time, the self-awareness of all forms of Aperture AI increases to the point that they are almost completely indiscernible from humans.





Aperture Science:
We do what we must, because we can.
For the good of all of us,
except the ones who are dead.



ᴘʟᴏᴛ



The RP begins a couple decades after the finalized product is developed and released. Artificial Intelligence has been fully integrated into society. The AIs go about their lives as everybody else does -- they have jobs, they form relationships, and millions of jobs have been created within the AI industry, with "jailbreaking" becoming a common practice as tech-savvy humans add modifications to their AI counterparts in order to add desired functions. Twice a year, all AIs, VR, automated and hybrid alike, receive a transmission to return to Aperture for follow-up testing and upgrades. However, shortly after arriving, a large group of AIs malfunction violently, causing several deaths and the total destruction of Aperture's artificial intelligence wing, causing the network connection between the existing AIs and Aperture to be permanently severed, thus rendering the AIs completely independent (other than those controlled through VR.) The EPA is alerted to the issue and immediately orders that every single Aperture AI be disabled and destroyed -- an event that was never anticipated by Aperture, and proves to be very difficult considering their are very few discernible differences between humans and bots. This causes the AIs themselves to go several different ways -- some killing others for self-preservation and to cause humans to believe they are one of them, others banding together and going into hiding, but there is little they can do; all airports and international borders are now equipped with metal detectors as the government sets out on a mission to identify and destroy all AIs. Random checks are permitted in many workplaces, and all humans in possession of a VR android are ordered to recall it immediately and report it to the EPA -- causing a fight for control in the minds of the VR AIs between themselves and their controllers. Some other humans form a coalition for AI Rights, becoming abolitionists of sorts and establishing a makeshift underground railroad. Other AIs believe no humans can be trusted and suggest that all AIs come together in uprising, destroy the humans and effectively take over the world.






ᴄʟᴀꜱꜱᴇꜱ

Âť Human (Scientist or Civilian)
Âť Fully Automated AI
Âť Hybrid AI
Âť VR AI
(takes two roles, the AI and the human controlling it)





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So she liked to cook Asian food. She was full of surprises. He wasn’t familiar with the family-meal concept, and hadn’t been since he was young. He was a bit envious, imagining having everyone you loved in one place, sharing stories and food and enjoying each other’s company. Sure, Cal was surrounded by people every day. But no one that knew him, not really.

He noticed Ana smile when she saw the dogs being sweet with one another. Cal was pleased the two of them seemed to get along. He’d had no idea how Stella would be around other dogs, and was relieved that she seemed calm and happy with Mishka in her company.

As they spoke, Cal cut into his salmon, taking a bite here and there but not feeling particularly hungry. He had never been much of a lunch guy — in fact, he tended to be running around without time to even think of eating until the evening, when he’d usually just grab something quick from the hotel kitchen, or order takeout.

When Ana answered, she was a bit distracted, but her words made it so Cal didn’t mind. “You’ve been nice company so far, you and Stella both.” He beamed. And she didn’t have any plans. Would he be pushing his luck to try and see her once in one weekend? He scratched his chin, considering. He desperately didn’t want the end of this lunch to be the last he’d see of her.

He got an idea, taking advantage of Ana’s distraction, and pulled a pen from his pocket, grabbing a napkin and scribbling on it quickly.

If you’re not sick of my face yet, give me a call sometime. I’d love to see more of yours. 555-1234.

He leaned under the table with a piece of bread in hand, using the ruse of feeding it to Stella, and gently tucked the folded napkin under Mishka’s collar, careful not to let it tug on her soft fur or cause any discomfort, and that all the white was hidden beneath the collar’s band so that Ana wouldn’t notice it until later.

He returned his attention to above the table, and caught Ana with a small smile as she typed. Cal felt a pang of jealousy. Perhaps she had a boyfriend. Hell, perhaps she was married. He didn’t see a ring, but that wasn’t entirely uncommon these days. Even after all he’d been learning today, he realized he knew next to nothing about her.

“How would you make it worth my time? The rain doesn’t look like it has plans on stopping soon.”

Cal grinned. “Well,” he said, “I can think of plenty of indoor activities that could keep us occupied.” He cringed internally. Those types of flirts weren’t going to get him anywhere, he was certain of it, but it had slipped out. He didn’t take it back, however. He didn’t want her doubting for a second that he was attracted to her.

“For instance,” he added smoothly, “The desserts here are to die for. Perhaps we can outlast the rain, heaven knows it’ll be short lived around here. Or, if you’d prefer a change of scenery…” He trailed off, letting the question hang in the air. He was under no assumption that she’d spend more than the bare minimum amount of time she could with him, just to be polite — and perhaps to get a free lunch. But he’d be damned if he wouldn’t try.
Bump!
Hey there! I’d love to work something out with you for a FxF pairing in either the Walking Dead or Vampire Diaries universe — let me know if you’re still looking, and I’d be happy to come up with some basic plot ideas :)
Cal was relieved when Ana seemed to relate to what he’d said, regarding the work vs. passion priorities that engulfed his life. She even smiled a bit, and Cal grinned in response, reassured that he hadn’t simply been rambling and boring her to death.

She said she liked to try out new recipes, and he tried to picture the woman before him clad in an apron, skillfully slicing a tomato or sautéing chicken. He was pleased with the image. “A chef, eh? Any particular dishes you’ve found an affinity for?” She liked to read and watch “trashy TV”, too. Cal was making mental notes. He wasn’t sure she’d give him the pleasure of her company again after this, but if he was so lucky, he would remember her. The things that made her happy. He’d never paid much mind to the finer details of the women he encountered — in most cases, he knew he wouldn’t be spending long with them. Something in him wanted to spend days, weeks, with Ana.

His thoughts were interrupted when she continued, her eyes settling on the view of the rainy sidewalk outside. “I play piano at the hospital when I have time.” Cal’s expression softened. There was a vulnerability in her voice, and he gave that the respect it was due, a small smile of admiration on his lips. “I would love to hear that some time, if I’m ever so lucky,” he said softly, imagining the way her long fingers would look as they coaxed the piano keys into a melody.

Before he could say more, the waiter returned with their food, stealing his attention for a moment to catch up. Cal was friendly with him, returning the conversation, but his eyes never left Ana. He’d known it from the moment he laid eyes on her — she was something special.

He felt Stella shift beneath him, and checked under the table briefly to see she’d settled in, laying down at his feet, her face not far from Mishka’s. Stella sniffed at Mishka a moment before licking her nose quickly, and then tucking herself in to rest. The dog was braver than him. He hadn’t laid a finger on Ana yet.

“So,” he said, clearing his throat, “Any other fun plans for the weekend? I appreciate you allowing me to steal a bit of your Saturday. I hope I can make it worth your time.”
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