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One big geek here, sup.

My roleplaying style is usually from the 3rd POV, but I'm open to trying new things. I'm used to writing somewhat long posts, so I'm in the look for roleplays that expect their players to write more than just a few sentences. That said, I do enjoy more casual pace, since I do have my studies to worry about as well. I aim to be as active as possible, visiting the site at least once a day (but lets face it, I'm here way more often than just once a day)

Some stuffs:
  • INFP-T
  • Artist
  • Finnish
  • She/Her
  • 18+
  • RPs Female characters

Most Recent Posts

Place: Coalfell, 1PM
Interactions: None (so far)

Carolina felt like she was walking in a memory. It wasn't a happy memory, exactly, more one of those distant and clouded ones, but the woman couldn't say she despised it either. The street she now walked was the same old street she'd been running up and down as a young girl. Even the intensity of the sun felt familiar, as much as Carrie hated it.

Coalfell still stood here, frozen in time. Everything was looking a bit more worn down and faded by the burning sun. A significant amount of establishments had closed down since Carolina's last visit nearly two decades ago. Even still, it felt like Coalfell hadn't changed a bit.

Carolina, however, had changed.

There was a certain sense of nostalgia to being here. Carrie hadn't been sure if she'd be able to handle it, but now that she was present, roaming the barren streets... She felt nothing, nothing at all. Carrie definitely stood out like a sore thumb, standing in the middle of a dusty street with cracked pavement in her stylish trousers and a white tank top. She'd once left Coalfell behind, and hadn't looked back since. She'd gotten a life for herself. She wasn't the same girl who everyone in the town knew. No longer was she running to bring her father lunch to the gas station. Hell, the gas station was probably well out of business, by now. No one visited the town.

The dreamy woman looked around the main plaza, the memory of the buildings around her coming back slowly. Some she'd already forgotten, if not most. If there was one thing she hadn't forgotten, it was Momma May's. Looking at the modest café across the street, Carrie smiled ruefully. She could recall all the good times she'd been to there with her brothers, eating chocolate chip pancakes and milkshake with that fancy whipped cream on top. Of course Carrie now knew it hadn't been anything special - just whipped cream from a bottle - but as a child it had been the best treat in town.
She also remembered the bad times. All the times she'd gone there to drag her father home from the bar late at night when he hadn't shown up home. The times when he was too drunk to stand straight, words slurring and mixing with the acrid stench of alcohol. Yeah. Carrie wasn't sure if she was ready to go inside, not yet. There was a certain safety, observing from a small distance. She wasn't ready to face all those old memories, nor was she ready to see how the place had inevitably changed in her absence. Was the place even run by the kind old lady anymore? The one who had sometimes given little Carolina something sweet for free, practically spoiling her when no one else would, but who could still kick the drunk people's asses if they started any trouble? Carrie wasn't sure if she wanted to know.

There was a gang of men in biker jackets smoking in the corner of Momma May's. Carolina instantly recognised them. She couldn't believe Red Wolves were still a thing, but she supposed not many things changed around here after all. They were all relatively young, too young to be the same members Carolina had seen cruising around as a kid, but the aesthetic was the same. They weren't to be messed around with, that much Carolina knew. There was still a small childlike part of her that feared them, but they were the only ones she could see around, so...

"'scuse me," Carrie spoke up, her voice almost cracking from the dry, dusty air. She walked towards the bikers who were leaning on their shiny motorcycles, gaining their attention. Steeling herself, Carrie kept her head held high.

"Whassa lovely lady like yourself want from us boys?" one of the bikers sneered, his crooked teeth forming a nasty smile. He looked young, maybe in his mid-twenties. Carolina tried to study his face, all of their faces really, to see if she recognised any of them. It was a shame her face memory was absolute rubbish.
"I'm lookin' to find--" Carrie began, only to be interrupted by a scoff that sounded half a cough, half a laughter.

"Looking? In this town we ain't taking so kindly to strangers who are lookin' for stuff," another biker bit back.

"Yea, we don't like outsiders snoopin' around," a third agreed. He had a patchy stubble and wildly styled hair, face littered with piercings that didn't quite honestly suit him. Carrie's nerves flared, her voice gaining firmness as she quipped back:
"Good thing I'm not a stranger, then. I grew up here, for fuck's sake."

Carrie let her eyes meet with each of the bikers. There were six of them. A few looked taken aback, one - the older looking one - seemed puzzled, and the three remaining ones stayed unfazed.
"An' I know who you are. Since when don't the Red Wolves have no manners?" Carrie challenged. Mister patchy beard seemed to be provoked by that, since his hands balled into fists and he took a step forward, about to tell Carrie off. However he was paused by the oldest looking biker, probably well in his forties, by a forceful hand on the shoulder.
"Hold on," he said, "you do look oddly familiar."
"Oh come o--"
"Shut the fuck up," he barked as the younger biker protested, his eyes never leaving Carrie's. "Who are you?"

Carrie smiled despite herself, corners of her mouth twitching up even though her gaze remained challenging.
"I'm Jefforey's daughter," Carrie replied, her Southern accent twisting the words. "Which is what I was here to ask you gentlemen. Is he still around?"
It took a moment, but soon realisation dawned on the oldest biker's face. He looked astonished, the tobacco actually dropping from between his fingers.
"No fucking way," he deadpanned. "Jefforey? As in Jenkins?" he asked, although it seemed he already knew the answer. Carrie tried to remember if she'd met this man while she still lived here, but she couldn't match the face to a name. It was all so distant.

"Guys, this is Jefforey and June Jenkins' youngest -- this is Christian's baby sister right here! Little Carrie, my fucking god you've grown into a woman," the biker boss exclaimed, shock still written all over his face. Carolina frowned at the mention of her name, confused that this man would recognise her. She'd aimed for them to recognise her father, but apparently Carrie had known this man too? What was his name again...

"It's me, Dave. Don'tcha remember me? Fuck, I can't believe it really is you lil Carrie. It's been a while, you're all sexy and grown up. How's Chris?"
Oh. Of course. A more genuine smile overtook Carrie's face as she remembered Dave. He'd just graduated high school by the time Carrie was ten. He'd been very tight with Carrie's older brother Christian back then. They'd gotten into all kinds of trouble back then, much to her parents' and Matthew's annoyment.
Wow, he looked so different now.
"Oh yeah, Dave! I think I remember you," Carrie nodded as she evaded a touchy feely bear hug with a firm handshake instead. All the other bikers seemed thoroughly confused, and what seemed like the newest addition looked also annoyed.
"Chris' fine or at least he was the last I heard from him. He hasn't really kept in touch, you know how it is between him and Matt."
Dave grinned, saying something to his buddies before turning back to Carolina.
"And you? What are you doing back in this shitass excuse of a town? No wait, you said you were lookin' for your old man," Dave said.
"Yeah... I mean, I didn't anticipate I'd be ever coming back, but... Got the news that mom passed away so."
Dave's gaze softened at Carrie's words.
"I'd say I'm sorry for your loss, but I know how you lot felt about her. Still, blood's tight. She was your momma after all." Carrie gave a curt nod, her mind wandering away briefly. What was she doing here, anyway?

"Anyhow, Jeff's around though. Haven't seen him in a while but I know he hasn't left the town..." Dave begun, an ounce of hesitation entering his voice.
"Yea, he lost his job like ten years ago when the gas station closed down. He's still around, just ain't doin' so hot," one of the other bikers added in. Carrie frowned, nodding at the information. It didn't really surprise her, but it still wasn't nice to hear.

"And... he's still living in our old house?" the brunette asked, turning the leather bracelet around her wrist nervously. Dave and a few of the other bikers exchanged looks that didn't make Carrie feel any more at ease. A sense of dread coiled in the bottom of her stomach.
"Our house, it... It still exists, right?" she asked, eyes studying the tiniest change in their faces. Anything that could give away the bad news.
"It does," Dave nodded, though he wouldn't meet Carrie's gaze, "it's just not exactly... uh, in a habitable condition." He seemed to pick his words carefully.
Carrie wasn't sure why the news made her feel so empty inside. Why did she care? She'd left Coalfell almost twenty years ago with no intention of ever looking back. So why was the news that their old house was probably no more than an overgrown backyard and broken windows so crushing?

"Thanks, Dave. I'll... I'll see you around," Carrie nodded before turning to leave.
hello all! i promise i am not dead, finals and a cold just got me for a day or two, plus i was bad and wanted to savor my first full day of nothing by sleeping in really late. although i now feel out of place because is coalfell a town for lesbians or? riley will still be showing up, in style, without caring about popular writers or actors because the most popular person in town is him!

Becca is an "actor", really its just her dream and not reality, she's only done theatre... And she doesnt read enough to know any authors either xD

There are only three lesbians so far, although that can change ;P
Ps if anyone is interested in collabing with either Becca or Carrie, hit me up!
New character who dis

Also, I will shortly be making a second character here in a few !


Place: Momma May's Cafe & Bar, 1 p.m.
Interactions: @SamaraJayne96, open for new interactions

Becca didn't have much time taking in the tortured man beside her before the statuesquely beautiful woman from earlier piped up again, stealing his attention. Becca's eyebrows rose in surprise and mild amusement as the energetic beauty was gently ushered to the side by the man. Did they know each other? If so, that was such a strange little coincidence. They certainly had very contrasting personalities: the man seemed rather reserved and the woman was much more Becca's level of... energetic? Was that the right word?
Becca smiled to herself, turning back to the waitress who was looking at her expectingly.

"Yes! So that'd be a lemonade for me and a sweet tea for that gentleman over there," Becca concluded with a sunny smile, nodding towards the corner where the man was currently, talking to his friend in hushed tones. The petite brunette took a second glance at the menu hanging above the bar. "Since I'm in the mood, throw in a strawberry milkshake too. For me," Becca added. The waitress didn't seem to be all that impressed by Becca's sunny smile, she just nodded and got to work, preparing the drinks ordered. It didn't seem she was particularly enthusiastic about her job, or maybe she was just not fond of talkative strangers who interrupted their gossip sessions with co-workers.

While waiting Becca let her eyes scan over the café, taking in all the customers and the general atmosphere. This kind of reminded Becca of the diner she worked in, except this was much more sun faded and remote, for the lack of better words. The brunette tapped her finely manicured fingers against the counter until the small taps turned into a rhythm of sorts. And when there was a rhythm, there ought to be music too.
Becca began humming to herself, head gently bopping along the melody. Music had always been her escape, be it boredom or unwanted situations.

After some time, the waitress returned with all of Becca's orders. The brunette beamed and handed the waitress a fifty dollar bill. In the spur of the moment, Becca made a decision.
"You know what? Keep the change," Becca declared, smiling innocently when the waitress' eyes widened comically. The bill she'd given her was entirely too much for what Becca had ordered. It was a fifty dollar bill for an order that cost maximum of five dollars, leaving an astronomical tip. The waitress looked as if she was about to protest, but when their eyes met and the waitress saw the full sincerity in Becca's, she seemed to think better of it. Mumbling a dumbfounded 'thank you', the waitress, went back to doing her job. It was clear that now the waitress thought Becca was out of her mind, a sentiment which wasn't compeletely untrue given the brunette's careless nature.
Becca closed her wallet full of cash, returning it to her satchel. She had a lot of money - one fifty dollar bill wouldn't make a dent either way. That, and Becca had always been a bit generous (or careless) with her money, especially when it wasn't exactly her own. Vince wouldn't miss it, the Brunette reasoned. He had a lot of money himself, and besides... he kind of owed Becca for saving his ass that one time. So really, this wasn't a big deal. It was totally worth it for seeing that waitress' face of disbelief.

Becca motioned the staff to take the sweet tea to the man, not really expecting him to come back anyway. It wasn't like she'd done some big favour to him, Becca did this sort of thing a lot when she had money from which to spend.
Taking a big sip of her strawberry milkshake, Becca crossed her legs on the bar stool she was sitting on. She'd have to ask someone for the location of a gas station, but first Becca just wanted to enjoy her cold refreshments. Becca began humming to herself once more, eyes wandering around the café, straw between her lips.
*raises hand* I'm in

"I got my ticket for the long way 'round
Two bottle 'a whiskey for the way
And I sure would like some sweet company
And I'm leaving tomorrow, wha-do-ya say?"

A red Volvo P1800 drove full speed past a worn sign on the highway. Under the blazing midday sun, with no company save for the car which was far more valuable than the driver knew, Becca felt free. Was the car hers? Pfft, of course not. Or the fat wallet in her pocket, was that hers? Not even close. But really, the brunette couldn't bring herself to feel too bad about it. Was it really stealing if the previous owner had stolen the goods in the first place?
Besides, Vince had a garage full of vintage cars and more money than things to throw it at. He wouldn't miss this particular one, Becca concluded.
Can't argue with that logic.

"When I'm gone, when I'm gooone," Becca sang, her voice gaining volume to compete with the loud, pothole filled road:
"you're gonna miss me when I'm gone
You're gonna miss me by my hair
You're gonna miss me everywhere, oh
You're gonna miss me when I'm gone."

Where was she, exactly? Becca couldn't tell. She knew she was somewhere in Arizona, as she'd driven pretty much non-stop since leaving unannounced half a week ago. The brunette did have a phone with her, only she'd blocked and deleted all her old contacts and social media. Letting go of those sweet sweet followers had been tough, but the girl didn't want to be tracked. Had she been actually smart about it, she would've ditched the phone altogether and bought a new one. However, Becca hadn't exactly planned this. She hadn't planned packing in the dead of the night and taking off in a car which had belonged to her boyfriend slash fiance slash ex... whatever. Becca was so done with that. She didn't have the energy to think about that, only the new adventure ahead of her. At least she was smart enough to not use any credit cards.

One slight problem: gas was running out, and there was no gas station in sight. Or anything, really. This is what Becca imagined the entirety of Arizona to look like, just a big, boiling wasteland with dried up tufts of whatever growing from the cracks on the road. The only sign of civilisation being the aforementioned road, with everything around it belonging to mother nature.

"Come on now..." Becca huffed as her eyes kept shifting to look at the small gas tank meter, fully in red by now. Cars weren't really Becca's area of expertise. She'd just taken the one that looked the nicest. Gone was her good mood from earlier, replaced by a mild worry. Getting stranded here, in the middle of nowhere without GPS and reception, that was not an option. Maybe she should've thought this through after all.

Just as Becca thought that, she lifted her gaze to see a town on the horizon, slowly becoming clearer in the dust. At first the brunette thought it was a mirage, with the heat rising in waves from the road and all around her, but as she got closer it became clearer this was indeed her saviour.
"Yess! Oh my god, yes, thank fuck," Becca exclaimed as she drove closer to the faded ghost of a town. There was a sign, rusty and dented and something straight out of a horror movie. It read "Welcome to Coalfell" with big, worn out letters Becca could barely make out.
She had never seen anything more welcoming in her entire life.


In her excitement, Becca had forgotten to watch the road for all the numberless potholes in it. The road was really more holes than road, if she was honest. Whatever place Becca had found herself in, it wasn't very well maintained. But at least it was remote. Remote was exactly what Becca needed right now.

Mindful of the potholes scattered across the pavement, Becca carefully maneuvered her car to the side of the road. She was just in time, too, since the car shut of right then and there, effectively out of gas altogether.
"Come on," Becca grumbled, hitting the steering wheel with her fists in frustration. She was so close to the town. She could even see the sign of a diner looking place in the distance. Couldn't the gas have lasted a few more blocks? Now she'd have to walk out in the melting midday heat, and she was already covered in sweat despite the somewhat functional A/C in the car.
Becca steeled herself and opened the car door, instantly being hit with a breeze of hot, dry air in her face. She didn't even have a hat, for god's sake. At least the brunette had packed her sunglasses with her, otherwise the brightness would've blinded her.

Becca locked up the car, making sure everything was nice and secure. She didn't take what little luggage she had with her out of the trunk of the car, deciding it was wisest to go around looking for any signs of life first. Plus she was rather thirsty.
Looking around, Becca's gaze settled on the diner once more. It seemed worn like the rest of the place, but much more likely to be still up and functioning compared to much of the other buildings. Sliding her large sunglasses on, Becca began walking in her five inch wedges towards the diner. Maybe someone there could point her to a gas station.

"There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God I know I'm one..."
Becca hummed as she got closer. The song came from nowhere, maybe from how this place looked, or the blazing heat scorching her mostly revealed skin. The girl's face lit up as she got near enough to read the sign on the diner's door. KARAOKE NIGHT! it said with big letters, although Becca couldn't be sure if that held true still. It didn't matter.
"Sweet, I love karaoke!" the young woman said to herself with a grin, pushing the door open. There was the sound of a bell over her head.

Walking to the counter with a bright attitude, ignoring the fact that it seemed to suddenly be dead quiet in the cafe, Becca sat next to a man that seemed to be waiting for the server's attention.
"Hi," Becca greeted him with an open smile, looking around for the first time. There was another woman at the counter, drop dead gorgeous and seemingly engaged in conversation with someone sitting at the tables. Now Becca realised how quiet it was in the bar. All the eyes were on the woman Becca had just described in her mind, and by extension, on her.
Oops. Why were they looking at them like that? Trying to ignore the slight awkwardness in the air, Becca turned and waved at the server that neared them with a weary look in her eyes.

"Hi! Such a lovely little place you have here. Do you serve anything cold? A frappé maybe?" Becca asked, hopeful. The server shot her a look that clearly signaled to Becca 'what do you think this is? Starbucks?'
After a brief silence Becca drew out a "Yeah... Point taken," before smiling a bit more sheepishly. "Just a lemonade, then. And you? Did you want to order something?" Becca asked turning to the man next to her, seemingly oblivious to the fact that now all the eyes were on her instead.

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