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28 days ago
Current @Poohead two words: Amazon. Vouchers.
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1 mo ago
@perllop it's not something I've done in a while, but whenever I've ghosted people it's always been down to pretty severe anxiety issues on my end, and nothing they did. Idk if that helps any :/
1 mo ago
Congrats to fellow Red Hoods RPers on 100 IC posts!!!! 🎉🎉🎉You guys are all pretty awesome =D
1 mo ago
@Shiva sci-fi western - firefly style
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3 mos ago
@madruga probably easier to just paint the outside if the stains are really bad :/
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Hi everyone, I've messaged Lmpkio, but I thought I should probably say here too that I'm making the decision to drop this rp. There's an awful lot of characters, and to be completely honest, it's a bit much for me to keep up with. I hope you all have fun going forward though!
Oop, sorry, been having a little writer's block with this one. Will try and power through and post tomorrow

Village of Traffyn Fenwd - Beds For Ewe! (External)


Colin’s cheek stung.

For a moment, that’s all there was. Just that stinging. He probed the tender flesh with tingling fingertips, blinked dumbly as Eliza of all people rushed to his defense. His knees shook, and he could hear screaming from some place distant and buried. Do something. He should do something. Don’t just stand there, or do you want to die? Stop hiding behind your sister and fight like a man. For fuck’s sake, what’s wrong with you?

“-miserable shell of a man like him-"

A part of him was terrified.

The lock clicking. Smoke and burning flesh. A child’s screams.

But then something else roared - flame licking the doubt, the coherence, the hesitation, turned them to straight ash. If it hadn’t smothered even the possibility for anything else, it might’ve frightened him. But it had, so it didn’t.

His sister was in that inn. Eliza centimetres away from the creature. Fendrel was gods knew where. The rags over it’s shoulder were starting to look awfully person shaped.

He had to do something, or it would slaughter them all. He charged into the inn. Humid air, the stench of dog, threatened to swallow him up. He ignored it. Eyes found the creature, right by the entrance.

His daggers were in his hands.

He launched himself, straight towards the threat.

The thing about Japan, as Noah was quickly coming to realise, was that he did not speak Japanese. And no, regardless of what Amber, the editor of Cryptid Weekly, seemed to think, a semester abroad way back in university did not make him ‘more or less fluent’, something he’d tried to tell her ever since being given this assignment. Of course, her response to that had been to just point out that he wasn’t meant to be talking to the Kappas. Just, y’know. Looking for them. That begged the question though.

Could Kappas talk?

The thought gave him pause, before he pushed it away and kept going, almost like he hadn’t stopped, mid stride as he made his way across Hakata’s busiest bus terminal. It was a warm day, and people were clearly busy, if the glares they were shooting in his direction were anything to by. He frowned, before pulling out the paper map he’d brought with him and opening it up where he stood.

It was heavily annotated, red sharpie lines carved swathes through the different districts, post it notes fluttered in the slight breeze, and the margins were filled with blue-black scribbles. Noah traced one of the lines across from where he was now to what looked to be a small hub of nightlife which had been heavily circled several times. Next to it, Noah’s own black biro scrawl outlined its significance.

Whoever this ‘Kappa Man’ was, Noah had a feeling he’d find more information from him than he would poking around some random river. The only trouble was, Noah had no idea where to start.

His phone buzzed in his pocket,and he pulled it out glancing at the glowing screen. A text from Amber, two simple words spelled across the LCD screen - ‘Food Baka!’. His stomach gave a treacherous grumble, and he realised the Kappa Man would have to wait.

He grinned and shook his head, before tapping out a quick reply, and setting off to find somewhere to eat.

When Sarah told people she worked in HR, their reactions were almost too easy to predict. The slight glaze over their eyes, the polite nod and smile, the instantaneous and blaringly obvious lowering of expectations. As depressing as it was to have her career be an instant turn off, it still felt like an inside joke, given what she actually did. Because yes, Sarah worked in HR, but she worked in HR for TERRA, and that was an entirely different ball game.

It was a Thursday morning like any other, and she stared at the rolling bank of monitors at the end of the large office. Thousands of global press releases, only around half even in English. Everything from major diplomatic issues, to kitschy stories about local celebrations. There were operatives in charge of specifically combing the non-stop feed for anything relevant to TERRA operations, but Sarah’s team kept an eye out anyway.

Sourcing the exceptional, the weird, the too curious for their own good - Sarah personally had recruited well over a hundred agents into TERRA during her time. Some she kept in contact with out of personal preference, others out of professional obligation. The latter category was mostly scientists, those who kept an ear to the ground in their respective fields without actually working for TERRA directly. She made sure their info kept coming, and their mouths stayed shut. If it got out what they did here… what they were keeping secret… Sarah didn’t want to think about it.

She leaned back in her desk chair, and booted up her PC, taking a sip of strong black coffee from the mug she’d brought with her from the kitchen. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she ignored it deliberately. It was probably, no, definitely Haley. The break up had been messy, but that was only half her fault, not that you’d know it from the endless stream of texts and missed calls she’d been bombarded with since. It’d die off soon, at least she hoped so. As much as she was a ‘stone cold bitch’ in Haley’s words, she didn’t want to block her.

Another buzz, and Sarah scowled, before pressing the power button down hard. She was at work. Haley knew that. She pushed it out of her mind for now though, she had bigger fish to fry. Namely, a Ukrainian scientist just a bit too interested in Egypt for Terra’s liking.

It was a late afternoon in the small village of Drumandochit, Inverness when it happened. The temperature had skyrocketed over the past couple of days, and in response, tourists and locals alike had turned out in droves to enjoy the rare good weather by the loch. Queues for the single ice cream truck had waiting times of over an hour, the Loch Ness Centre was so packed with people it was hard to see the exhibits, and boats full of people coursed chipperly over the calm, deep waters.

On one such boat, Timothy Johnson, four, was enjoying a day out with his parents and two younger siblings. His baby sister had been screaming for the better part of a half hour, and whilst his mother attempted to soothe her, his brother, comparatively new to the world of bipedal motion was running rings around their father, leaving Timothy comparatively unattended. And so, he’d decided to entertain himself with the cheap disposable camera his parents had gotten him for the trip. It had up to 100 pictures he could take, and when specialists at TERRA would later pour over the film, they would find most of them to be pictures of people’s sunburnt legs, the floor, and an unusually large number of interesting bushes.

One of these images, however, would prove to be quite a bit more important than legs and floors and bushes, because Timothy Johnson was pointing his camera at the water the exact moment the ground quaked. There, on a cheap disposable camera, was the moment Loch Ness monster exploded out of the water, snatched an unfortunate seagull in her pointy teeth, and retreated back beneath the surface, changing Drumandochit forever.

this seems cool :D
@Calle Hey there :) Sorry if anything I said made you nervous to post your review :/ Anyway, figured the events of my story could use a little clarification, as I don't think I did a very good job of making it clear what actually happened.

Like I said though, I don't think I did a very good job making it clear what was happening, and if I were to do another draft, that's definitely something I would pay close attention to. Anyways, thank you for taking the time to review everyone's stories and provide thoughtful, helpful feedback :)

The grass was dry and dead beneath Nia’s toes as she let herself drown in the sun that poured across the front of the scrapyard, and a few feet away, Loch picked at the ground. From where Nia lay, flannel shirt bundled beneath her head, he looked about a thousand feet tall. More like he was ravaging towns and villages and farmland than enjoying a nice lunch with teetering stacks of rusted out cars and chainlink fence in the background. Although then again, the two weren’t exactly mutually exclusive.

In the yard, there was a metallic crash, and Nia winced. She craned her neck to see two men, one, large and sweltering in a stained wife beater, the other slightly younger, late teens at best, the first man’s son, perhaps? Either way, the larger was yelling now, something with a lot of words that started with an ‘F’ or a ‘C’, and even more flying spittle, and even Loch paused his pecking to get an eyeful.

The younger looked upset, or rather, like he was trying really hard not to be, and Nia felt something stir in her gut. Yelling, screaming, humiliation - all had been par for the course on the inside. You were nothing. Any attempt to be not-nothing was met with… well, Nia didn’t like to think about that.

She wasn’t nothing now though.

She sucked on her bottom lip. Her neck was stiff from staring so long, and she reached up to massage it, just as Loch waddled over. He butted her hand with his beak expectantly, and she smiled, scratching softly down the back of his neck.

A loud crack echoed across the yard, and Nia’s gaze snapped back to the two men, Loch withdrawing from her touch almost immediately.

Her eyes widened.

The older man had the younger by the scruff of his sweat-stained grey T-shirt, screaming in his face, now, face like port. Nia didn’t need to think too hard to guess what had happened, not when younger’s cheek was a pink stain on dusty skin and he’d stopped trying not to look upset. Just looked scared. Nia had been scared like that before, a lot of times. And now.

She wasn’t nothing now.

Nia heaved herself to her feet, pausing only to tell Loch to wait there (he didn’t), and marched towards the drama playing out before her.

@SleepingSilence I admit, I may have been overly harsh. But I stand by what I said in my review. I apologise for the fact that I may have gotten overly personal, but I think instead of shouting back in turn, it would be more helpful to consider the reasons why. In all honesty, I (and others I've spoken to) found the tone you took in your reviews to be a little arrogant. For one, the extensive rewrites of other people's work were somewhat offensive and incredibly unhelpful. Also from what I saw, you bassically applied paint stripper to anything that made the peices interesting or unique. 'Fluff' and 'padding' are often deliberate stylistic choices, oftentimes they make up elements of voice.

Anyway, moving on.

when discussing censorship, I think it's worth remembering that free speech goes both ways, and doesn't make you immune to criticism. I strongly dislike your story, and I feel like the themes contained within were deeply unsettling, but I would absolutely fight for your right to post it. As an individual, not a government, I don't have the ability to censor anyone.

Another note, a 'failed' rape is still a sexual assault. It is still traumatising, and it is still illegal. I honestly don't have the time or energy to waste addressing each and every point you make, but I think you would benefit from remembering that your work doesn't exist in a vacuum. Inaccurate portrayals of 'insanity' and 'madness' can and do reinforce real world stigmas against mental illness and disability in general. Ideas surrounding female 'purity' and the 'sanctity of virginity' can and do have incredibly harmful effects on sexual assault survivors - both in how they treat themselves, and how they are treated by the world around them.

If I sound preachy, it's because I am being. These are issues that are incredibly close to my heart for various reasons I don't particularly want to get into here. If you're going to be discussing these issues in your work, I strongly suggest investing a little time into researching ways you can do so without perpetuating harmful stigmas.

Village of Traffyn Fenwd - Beds For Ewe! (External)


Even after her rain-soaked back had retreated back into the inn (following what looked like a strange altercation with the door), the proof still remained - Kate. Kate was here. Deep imprints where her boots had sunk into the mud, where they’d slid the barest of inches as she swung for Nyssa. Her voice, still ringing in Colin’s ears, familiar, warm and cold at the same time. The lingering ache in his arm where her fingers had gripped, just a bit too tight.

He’d missed her.

He shoved the lot away, peeled his fingers away from where they’d unknowingly crept to dig into his scar. Focused on the outside. Eliza, standing, warm eyes framed against a starless black sky. Cold rain against skin that was suddenly absolutely fucking freezing. Muddy water that dripped, granular and slimy, from the back of his head and down his neck, soaking into his rapidly stiffening collar.

When she spoke, Eliza’s voice was almost completely snatched by the patter of rain and the stuttering thunder of blood in his ears, but her meaning was clear - he needed to explain himself. He suppressed the wince that threatened to rise, wrapped his arms round his chest in a poor attempt to stay warm.
“‘Malright,” he muttered, then, through clenched teeth, “just s-surprised,” fuck, now he was stuttering apparently, stupid fucking rain, “Didn’t know when she said ‘Kate’, Caira meant m-my sister Kate.” it was a common name, at the end of the day, “L-last I heard she was still back in the mountains.” that had been five years ago, but Eliza didn’t need to know that.

He had to squint to see her face properly in the rain, but even then, it was easy to see she looked shaken. A long time ago, Andi had hired a new barmaid. The first time she’d seen a full on brawl break out, she’d spent the rest of the night with an expression a bit like Eliza’s. Was that what was happening now? It seemed unlikely - she wouldn’tve joined the hoods if she wasn’t expecting a bit of rough and tumble. Not that it mattered. At the end of the day, Kate was his sister, and if she’d upset Eliza, he’d probably be better off apologising.

He swallowed awkwardly, throat bobbing, “Sorry… about that…” he paused as a shiver surged up his spine, “she’s not usually-” he cut himself off - he couldn’t really comment in that regard anymore, could he? “She never did anything like that before,” he ended up saying, “you... alright?”

It was at that moment, that he spotted it - a lone figure emerging from the woods the leech and Fendrel had disappeared off into. He couldn’t see from this distance, never mind in the darkness, but he felt his muscles tense, hand reach for Nessie, almost of its own volition. Then - a familiar glint of armour, pale skin… a bundle of what looked like grey rags slung over it’s shoulder, too small to a person. That left one question.

“Where the fuck is Fendrel?”

Village of Traffyn Fenwd - Beds For Ewe! (Internal)


Meg had faced down men twice her size in battle, jeopordised her very life in service of her Lady, wielded a blade and armour strong enough to best most any foe, yet here she was, paralysed in the face of the possibility that running out after them without being asked might look a little bit awkward.

It was ridiculous. She felt like a child again, hiding behind her mother’s skirts. Except now she was an adult with a sister to save and a best friend who might be in danger, and all she could do was stand dumbly in the centre of the bar with her face on fire and her throat aching and small. Gods. This was so stupid. Llian was-

It was at that moment that the door swung open. One of the strangers - the one Meg couldn’t decide if she was cocky or confident. The door swung shut behind her with an air suggesting it was the former, and then swung open again admitting a, extremely muddy and foul tempered looking Kate that all but confirmed it. Kate ignored the stranger entirely, instead heading toward Meg. She held Meg’s shoulder in a cold, but strong grip, before asking bluntly, “You alright?”

Meg nodded minutely, before, cautiously, removing Kate’s hand from her shoulder, reaching for the other one too, and clasping the chilled, no doubt aching, digits in her own, warm grip. She shot the stranger a look. Kate seemed shaken, “What happened?” she asked, quiet and small.

The other woman’s face hardened instantly, and Meg’s heart sunk as she pulled her hands free, stuffing them instead in the linen pockets of her pants, “It doesn’t matter.” she said, flat, before turning her attention away from Meg, apparently satisfied, and toward Nyssa, “You’re here to do a job, so let’s get this over and done with so you can leave as quickly as possible. What have you been told about why you’re here?”

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