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Recent Statuses

1 yr ago
Idea: Superhero rp but every superpower has to be a unnecessarily specific fetish taken from a 1x1 thread
16 likes
1 yr ago
joining a roleplay can have the same stress of applying for a job except its better cause instead of bagging groceries you get to be a cute gay anime cat girl who goes to magic school
31 likes
1 yr ago
*tackleglomps u and nuzzles* X3 *notices bulge in ur pants* OwO wats dis???
4 likes
1 yr ago
does anybody in this thread smoke weed
12 likes
1 yr ago
The thrill of doing seventy different code edits without saving and then not knowing whether your post looks cute or like an exploded cumbox
7 likes

Bio

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Male/19

I like rats, jalapeño poppers, y2k aesthetics and idol games. I enjoy roleplays with comedic elements, although finding those is tough. Generally speaking the less seriously a roleplay takes itself the more enjoyment I get out of it. I don´t have a sprawling and intimate relationship with roleplaying or a deep, meaningful reason as to why I started it. I´ve been writing for over a year and I enjoy the hobby as a way to jot down the many, many stupid thoughts that my head likes to generate.

I am pretty extroverted on the internet due to how easy it is to connect with people with similar interests. My personality may come across as aggressively friendly or over the top at times and I apologize in advance for that, whoops.

As for my strange signatures and profile pictures, they are a part of a specific aesthetic I´ve developed over the years that can be succinctly described as "Y2K aesthetics with a focus on the technology that explore themes of loss, abandonment, filth, and hopelessness, rather than the optimistic and mainstream view of the future that was common during that period of time."

TALK 2 ME!!!!

Most Recent Posts

:: the streets of thorinn // thorinn ::

Alex paused before continuing their conversation. Oh, she´s one of those roleplayers. It was something he´d never been interested in, though he was more or less familiar with the basics from seeing the cringe-inducing displays of knighthood that his brother and his friends engaged in. His brother, who was now stuck in the same game as him and most likely in some horrific and dangerous area surrounded by tryhards of the same skill level as his obsessive self. Fuck.

He pushed those thoughts back. "Don´t sweat it, playing this game means I get used to this kind of stuff. Not that I´m any good at it myself."

His back slouched. "Right, staying strong."

It was hard to stay strong in a world that was getting scarier by the minute. Camping inside of a claustrophobic village wasn´t going to cut it any more for Alex, and taking his frustration out on woodworking wasn´t going to change the fact he was stuck here and very much in danger. People were getting stronger than him every passing moment, and whether he liked it or not he was going to have to step out into the wild and face the very real possibility of dying.

He held his hand out for a fist bump, which he corrected into a handshake. It was hard to pay attention to a conversation when you were briefly coming to terms with your mortality. "My name´s Alex. I´ve just been screwing around this place for awhile, but things are getting crowded so I´m thinking about setting out." She looked like someone who would make a good teammate, if her introduction was anything to go by. There was, however, something she said that had caught his attention.

"Skeleton... lady?" He made no effort to hide his awe.



Octavio sighed, longer than necessary. "It appears our identities have become commonplace, whether we like it or not."

Just who did that mysterious man think he was, continuing to grow his piecemeal band of warriors? He had thought of the man less over time, like an animal picking at a wound eventually coming to terms with its presence. The appearance of Ferris, however, brought it at the forefront of his mind again. His iron grip of control was frustrating, to say the very least.

"And if that section of the town is indicative of how the rest of it is faring" he added, "then we´re going to have to get comfortable with the possibility of combat occurring at any moment."

Ah, yes. Surprise attacking a rogue. His sense of powerlessness was at an all time high, and he feared having to take part in more disadvantageous combat in the near future. Lagging behind the rest was not a good strategy if he wanted to survive in this horrid world.

Lynx stared quietly at the man, relieved that Sil had found another subject to torment.
In Gnome Gang! 18 days ago Forum: Free Roleplay
Keebler´s underdeveloped and decaying brain registered the tavernkeep´s hostility and jolted his pathetic excuse of a body awake with the power of misplaced anger. Why was the man so keen on shouting up a storm when Keebler, in a move of efficiency and intelligence, had licked up most of the spilled ale? In the time it took him to formulate this rationalization for his never-ending rage, however, the rest of the gnomes had left him in the dust to deal with the mess. His thick eyebrows crumpled into an angry mess.

"Why I oughtta!..." he wasn´t sure what he would do exactly, but it sure felt good to scream. He ran off as well, despite the keep´s raging in the background. In times like this, it was like his body had a separate energy reserve for escaping from the consequences of his poor decisions, and the man was out of the tavern in a wink, like a blurry blob of fat and hatred.

He noticed the others were far ahead of him, and to make matters worse, more physically inclined. Or to be more accurate, they were just less physically disadvantaged than he was. His fury turned to desperation as he realized he´d need their help.

"Oi!"

"Wait up!!!"

Unknown Forest

With a warm smile, Kaito took Honami's words in stride. If he were her age again, he would've no doubt been shaken by them, but his career had made him develop an immunity to this sort of treatment.

"I'd certainly consider this strange situation to be more than just a little wind, heh," he said absent-mindedly, partly lost in his brainstorming. He was finding it difficult to keep up with the pair, even as the member of their trio with the longest legs. Of the two, Hiroko responded in a far more level-headed manner.

"Nervous? Yes, maybe a little bit. That event with the language in particular is what confuses me the most." His brain was sifting through all of the mental conditions associated with symptoms like visual hallucinations, severe memory loss and somnambulism, and the results were disconcerting. He worded his thoughts as inoffensively as possible so as to not startle them, but nevertheless continued to dwell on the various possible explanations for this... occurence. Every part of his body wanted to freak out in reaction, but if he wanted to earn their trust he´d have to put up a strong front.

He made a conscious effort to catch up to Honami, assisted by her being slowed down by the increasingly numerous flora surrounding them. It eventually reached a point where it was almost impossible to know what was in front of them. Feeling a heavy pang of guilt for his behavior, he stepped forward to weather the brunt of the foliage in their way. His body was the largest, so it made sense for Kaito to go first anyways. He walked ahead and intended to continue doing so, but the sight of the decrepit shrine made him pause.

"...Abandoned?" Disappointment tinged his voice, and he bit his tongue to stop any quivering before it started. Civilization, it seemed, was still far from their grasp.


Octavio quietly nodded at Chres. Earlier he had reasoned that there must have been some important reason behind taking along such an… interesting familiar around, but didn't expect tragedy. He was at a loss for words and didn't know how to comfort the man who had just revealed an intimate part of himself to him. He nearly sighed from both the frustration of being too inexperienced to handle honest conversations and a growing empathy for his party. Would cheering him up be the right thing to do? “My condolences, Chres,” he finally uttered. Forming a grin on his face, he added, “I suppose this means I´ll have to warn Lynx against battering her around.”

As he continued their errand the unmistakable air of tension began to manifest in Octavio´s surroundings. He knew it was ridiculous, but it was a relief to be thrust into a situation he was much more familiar with. His eyes glazed over the scene unfolding before him with a false warmth, discretely monitoring all of the little changes in the facial expressions and body movements of the innkeeper and the cultists. This was definitely more than haggling gone wrong, and by the way the thugs in particular tensed, things were going to get ugly.

In response he began to form an illusion in his mind, working slowly so as to maintain his unassuming appearance. He started with big, broad strokes to get the fundamentals right, and then moved on to the more complex parts as the image took on a more solid grip in his mind. It almost felt automatic given the amount of times he had created illusions of himself. With luck, the tension would defuse and his safety measure would result useless.

"But Sightless Syella, on the other hand..."

Damn it.

***


They took to the alleyway in a storm of footsteps, Chres leading the way and Octavio hurriedly catching up to him. At some point during the commotion he had summoned his illusion unintentionally, much like someone holding a heavy object tended to drop it while running. He wasn´t sure if the amount of intelligence he had imbued in this one was even enough to make it viable, but there was no time to spare in escaping the quintet of armed thugs behind them.

Octavio chuckled to himself. Seeing Chres do the exact same thing he was planning on made him respect the man more. There was no doubt in his mind that some of the others would have tried tossing themselves into battle had he been paired up with them. Near his legs Lynx shot out like an arrow, successfully outpacing everyone present. The cat jolted even faster at the sight of another warrior joining their claustrophobic battle.

While the appearance of another stranger urged him to run faster, he shouted their names and even slew one of the thugs. Another warrior appointed to join their improvised party of hostages?

He could always ask that later. Right now, the prime opportunity to strike presented itself right before him. Octavio descended on the closest thug, his illusion joining him and doubling the pressure with no time wasted. This one was definitely a bit harder to control than his typical illusions. Had he been an unrestrained man, a large grimace would have covered his face. Instead he remained fairly neutral, wearing a small smirk on both of them.

His combat style consisted of waiting, gathering his power, and striking when his opponent was weakest, typical for a rogue. The current situation he found himself in was the total opposite however. He was fighting at a disadvantage, and had to compensate for that by going on the defensive. Using his natural dexterity and the fact that there were two of him, he watched his own back and stuck to landing safe slashes on his opponents, not letting them strike at him in return. Rather than target any one thug in particular, he had dangerously placed himself close to the center of the action and settled on punishing anyone who got too close. Chres could use ranged magic, so this could be helpful for him, right? He made a mental note to claim that that had been a part of this strategy from the beginning when asked.

Throughout the chaos of battle several shallow cuts had been successfully scored against the skin of both Octavio and his illusion. The ferocity of the thugs was rising, leaving Octavio no choice but to pull back. A thug noticed this and went in for an opening in his stance, successfully striking at the illusion. The heavy blow had carved an enormous gash across his shoulder and incapacitated him. Not letting the pressure get to him, Octavio´s smirk grew by a fraction and the man sped to try and catch the thug by surprise.

He dug his dagger messily into the man´s flank and prepared to fight any resistance with his remaining short sword. Throwing knives weren´t an option with so many allies close. His strategy had switched to being fully offensive, circling the thug with both of his selves, making it impossible to completely defend himself from attack. His illusion went in for the kill, impaling the man brutally in the throat. The illusion´s movements were sloppy and he let the sword linger inside of the man far longer than he should have before dragging it out, a sign that his injuries were grave. He couldn´t create another one either, as the alleyway choked out the light and would extend the length of the process. This battle would have to end fast.


Octavio´s right foot stepped on a twig, punctuating the brief period of silence between the two men with a sharp snap. Chres´ question had blindsided him, he had to admit. Ophelia. Even thinking about her name elicited a feeling of betrayal that plunged deeper than any remotely positive feeling he´d ever received in his life. The woman who had set him up to die. He thought about portraying her as a kind woman who had simply chosen not to attend the ball, but the idea filled him with disgust. Octavio was a liar, but even he had his limits. Besides, if he played his cards right, this party he was stuck with could potentially help skewer her.

"We used to be friends, long ago," he said, the bluntness of the sentence out of place for him. "She was one of the most talented illusionists I had ever seen, and she had, whether she intended to or not, shown me the theatrics and power that surrounded the branch of magic. How the mind could be stronger than the body, how words could be sharper than steel. I suppose you could have considered me to be her apprentice during those years, although neither of us saw it that way."

The small twig cracked again. "She had attempted to have me killed not too long after that event, as part of an intricate scheme to gain notoriety. I had fled, and for a long time it was nearly impossible to believe that a person that close to me could arrange for my death for her own gain."

His face gave off a sinister energy. "I guess that´s just the typical human, right?" he said, the words slithering out of his mouth. In moments his face reverted to his typical disarming grin. "It was around that time that I had managed to befriend Lynx however, so I suppose my total amount of friends didn´t change, eh?"

He turned towards the familiar, who had been too preoccupied with squabbling with Sil again to pay attention. The number stayed at one.

Lynx stared Sil down with a murderous gaze. "I fail to understand how I could ever come to resemble a horse, fairy." The word fairy was hissed with a heavy amount of contempt.


Kaito uttered a soft grunt of worry as he realized he was being left alone in the forest. He quickly strode over to what had caught the girls´ attention and said nothing as he read the text engraved on the statues. His lips pressed against one another in his typical way of showing worry, but for the first time in a long time there was a sense of helplessness added in as well. He had only been in this strange land for a short moment, yet in his heart Kaito was aware that whatever had happened to them was far away from the reach of what conventional therapy could deal with. He hugged his reference journals tightly against his chest, their current uselessness evaporating the sense security they usually gave him.

A monstrous noise tore through the forest, causing Kaito to flinch. The loose strands of hair that weren't secured by his relaxed ponytail twitched from the wind that briefly enveloped them. He raised his journals in front of his head to shield his face from any debris.

"Hgnk!..." he whined. The sky looked nothing like how it was supposed to during a storm, so it had to have been something else. Fear crept into his mind as he began to ponder what that "something else" could possibly be. One of the girls had suggested they take shelter inside the temple, a relief to the worrywart.

"I agree. Seeking civilization can help us know where we are." he said gently. "But... we should be wary. That might have been a noise of aggression just now." Being more unnerved than they were about their predicament was embarrassing given he was the only man and the eldest of the three, but establishing some kind of plan was definitely worth it.
There truly was no better solution to waking Keebler up than dousing him in alcohol. It was like a reminder aimed at his subconscious that it existed and was currently the only thing keeping him alive. He awoke in a mess of sputtering and grumbling, greedily licking his lips to take as much of it in as possible before his mind could even start forming coherent sentences again. It was a shame AA meetings didn´t exist in this world, as Keebler´s liver had reached the point where it could probably kill a dragon if one decided to eat him.

"Hngh... I´m alive... this ain´t hell?" mumbled Keebler. He wiped his face with his hands, realized what he was doing, and then proceeded to lick them. "That sure knocked me out for a wink, this body ain´t what it used to be."

He stood up and wobbled back towards his original seat. With luck, the other gnomes would simply not realize that he had failed in his attempt to show off. In his mind, this was a valid and intelligent strategy, and he even let out a self-congratulatory smirk. It ain´t easy bein´ the brains of this operation, he thought.
:: the streets of thorinn // thorinn ::


Alex's leather boots took frustrated steps as they paced around the town's stone roads, hitting the ground at uneven intervals as he was forced to move around herds of people slower than him. All this recent talk of death within the game had caused a surge in fear among the other players, and a desire to stay in the safer parts of the world. For Alex, the stress turned into an overwhelming feeling of irritation, one which he was desperate to quell. He wasn't used to being around so many people. The archer groaned at the realization that his favorite hunting spots were going to be taken and dried up. Maybe he could use his crafting skills as his main way to get by? He looked around, noting the dread and worry spread across a lot of people's faces. Nope, they definitely didn't seem like the types to want birdhouses right now.

The sight of a small girl that had been knocked to the ground caught his attention. He could tell she was a player, er, wayfarer, judging by the expression on her face. Alex had spent his days sticking to the safest parts of the game, enjoying it mostly for the crafting and exploration bits over anything else. Even so, he knew that other wayfarers were likely to have gone through quite the messes when the announcement had hit. He walked quickly towards the girl and called out to her, weaving through the crowd surprisingly well.

"Hey, you alright?" he said. He'd sooner let a dragon or whatever monsters were in this world eat him than be one of those snobs who matched their speech with the atmosphere. He was going to speak the way he wanted to, even if it meant going against the image his neat and proper merchant's outfit gave off.

There was no way that she was completely fine. Being shoved to the ground by some sleazebag? It would've been impossible for Alex to resist turning the man into a human pincushion had he been in that position. The girl's clothes reminded him of the kind of things someone affiliated with the drox would wear. If she really were a drox wayfarer, then Alex reasoned she'd be a good place to start with to get a team going. That and, he struggled to remember what the other affiliations stood for past the basics.

The words hurried out of his mouth before he could really think about them. "You're a player too, right?"




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