Recent Statuses

3 days ago
Current You hear that? That's the sweet sound of me being horrible at writing history sections.
5 days ago
I'm back again for more of my particular brand of mediocrity.
3 mos ago
My secret talent is adding more characters than I need to any given roleplay.
3 mos ago
Remember me? No? Me neither.


Just call me Prose.

I'm twenty five.
No Face accurately describes my appearance, I think.
I've been roleplaying for a long time.
Feel free to correct me on things.
I edit character sheets a lot.
My male characters will highly outweigh my female characters.
I reuse characters that I like.
I was in advanced writing classes at one point, it didn't make an impression on me.
I do best in high casual settings but I could probably do advanced if I put effort into it.
I hate writing personality and appearance sections, I'm bad at it.
It takes me at least four replies before my responses stop looking like garbage.
I refuse to write a first status until I can think of something good to say.
I wrote a status finally.

At every given moment, I'm worried that I'm annoying everyone in the thread.
I'm not as pretentious as my name might suggest.

Most Recent Posts

Ya boy came through.
Ayyy, it's your Cheshire boy. I'll work on a CS tonight.
Reserving Robert Sheehan with the color 8dc73f as the overly flirtatious edgelord that nobody wanted or needed, Quinn Lloyd.

God knows why I'd bring him back.
I haven't done a roleplay with ya'll in a hot minute, I might be down.

Nolan Santora was anxious by nature and over the last few months, this had only gotten worse.

It had started with the appearance of the rune, that black pronged marking that ran up the inside of his wrist. He had obsessed over it at first, tried to scrub it away with soap and water until his skin had been flushed and raw. It had started with the appearance of The Blessed and their ultimatum, it had started when he realized that there really was no saying no in this situation.

Everything had changed in the span of a few months and he felt more trapped than he ever had. Though they weren't holding anyone captive per say, it was easy to start feeling like a caged bird. This feeling of being caged had made him withdrawal quite a bit, being stuck in a place with so many unfamiliar faces was nerve-racking.
Even now, after having been here for a while, he was still very nervous.

Entering the lounge, he saw Blessed officers and two girls heckling a Blessed officer who looked about exhausted. By the smell of alcohol on him, it wasn't a question of why but rather a question of who allowed him to get plastered on the job. It didn't seem like a good practice to have one of the supposed “world defenders” stumbling around like a common alcoholic. He didn't work here though, so he guessed it was none of his business.

He heard the man growl in response to seemingly both the girls at once, “Don't get cheeky with your superiors.

This about assured him that he wanted none of what that conversation might offer. So, quietly, he found himself a place to stand, trying to put some distance between him and everyone else. He could listen and watch what was going on without the stress of engaging. He didn't feel as if this was his element and he wasn't sure as if he ever would.

”Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire.

One moment.
It took a single moment for everything to go up in flames around him. It was insane how easily a person could forget how quickly things could go wrong in a moment. It didn't take long for trains to crash, it didn’t take years for that singular collision to happen, it all happened quick. One intake of breath and suddenly you were derailed off the tracks and blood was pooling down the bridge of your nose.

It only took a moment for everything to shift around him. It only took a moment for the building to collapse in on him, for the smell of his burning skin to flood his nostrils. It only took a moment for the darkness to settle over him, the realization that he had messed up exponentially. It was one moment and everything was different.

Of course, that moment had been a deciding factor for him joining the organization. That moment had been the straw that broke the camel's back, the thread in the eye of the needle. Perhaps he was a masochist by nature but he had found himself at home here, it wasn't that he particularly loved the work or the responsibility but it was that he felt at home.

He had made a kind of home here and yeah, maybe that home wasn't perfect but it wasn't like he had a good point of reference for home life. Unfortunately, responsibility was a very key part of this home and he needed to move.

He quite literally spilled out of bed in his haste to get up, sheets tangled around his legs. His elbow drove into the floor hard and he kicked out to throw the sheet off himself. “Fuck me-” he hissed as he grabbed the edge of the bed to pull himself to his feet. “Drunk before it's even-

Cursing himself, God, and everyone else, he hurriedly got himself looking mostly presentable. When he finally did make it into the lounge, he was more than a few minutes late. This behavior was a bit typical of him and by the whiff of alcohol about him, his excuse was quite clear.

He offered a kind of idle wave to Dawn and Cordelia, trying to hide a yawn behind his arm.
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